#then smoke a bowl and get back on my bullshit for the night

[kuromi-hoemie]

me: watch one episode with your dinner then do your chores

me after one episode: ..... i um ... another?

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.

the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.

it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."

then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."

then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."

that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.

"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."

but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.

'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.

if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.

if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.

"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.

for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-

the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."

eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.

"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.

three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.

he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.

"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"

there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.

"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"

eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.

"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."

eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.

he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.

"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."

"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."

eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?

but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.

and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.

eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.

"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.

it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.

there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."

"holy shit."

it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.

"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"

choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-

"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."

he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.

"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"

and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.

"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.

"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."

eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."

steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.

"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."

"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."

he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."

eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.

"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.

"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.

"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.

"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"

the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.

and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.

"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."

it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.

"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."

"...are you bribing me, harrington?"

"is it working?"

eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.

"of course it is."

the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.

"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"

it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.

he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.

"lucky indeed."

[addisonnie]

you, me, & mary-jane

summary: dealer!ellie comes in clutch in more ways than one.

warnings: make-out sesh, cursing, terrible breaking bad references

a/n: surprise! another ellie fic because i refuse to do the schoolwork that i desperately need to finish! wooooooooo dealer ellie is yum. i actually kinda hate this! enjoy! oh god also listen to “meddle about” by chase atlantic while you read if you would like. ellie=chase atlantic okay bye

part 2 —> part 3

There are several things in life that you can live without. Weed is not one of them.

You’re huffing and borderline growling as you dig through various stash locations in your room. Closet, empty. Under the mattress, nothing but crumbs. In every single pants pocket? Zero. Zilch. Not one lush green nug was found.

What could be chalked up to a literal war cry left your lips as you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, “this is it. This is the end.”

Dina’s head poked up from the side of her bed, “what are you whining about down there?”

Leaning your head back onto the wall, you sent Dina a harsh glare, “you and Jesse smoked the last of it! And I’m flat broke, too!”

She sat up fully in her bed, eyes wide and crazy, “bitch! Don’t pin this on us! You said it was fine.”

“That was last night! This is today! Today I just want to smoke my silly little bowl and enjoy my silly little high.” You groan and knock your head against the wall a few times.

Fishing your phone from your back pocket, you open iMessage. Hopefully your plug isn’t busy right now. Last time you bought from him was in the parking lot of his youngest child’s soccer game. Maybe buying from a 40-something father of three isn’t always the best idea—at least he won’t rip you off?

Hey. You busy?

Tom usually responds right away. His clients doubled as his friends (you being his ex-babysitter) and he always loved to provide for them.

Who is this?

Well, that’s strange. Tom definitely has your number saved. And, Tom definitely knows who you are.

Don’t play, Tom. I want to buy!!!!

You watch the text bubbles pop up and disappear in the bottom corner of the screen a few times, showing that he’s typing out a response and deleting it over and over.

This is his wife. Don’t text this number again. He is married. And he does not sell what you want to “buy.”

You could really cry at this moment. Like, honestly and truly sob. A long huff leaves your lips and you knuckle at your eyes aggressively. Fucking bullshit. Tom’s wife was always kind of a bitch, to be fair. But you didn’t think she’d ever pull a Skylar White on you. What does a girl have to do to get some weed around here?

“Do you know any other dealers? I just got told off by Tom’s wife.” Dina laughed from her bed.

“My name is Skylar White, yo. My husband is Walter White, yo.” You couldn’t help but laugh, “that’s exactly what I was thinking!”

She sits up in her bed, hanging her tanned legs off the side, “here. I have mutual friends with this girl, think her name is Ellie? I heard she sells. Good prices too.”

Dina tosses her phone into your lap from where she sits and allows you to send the contact to yourself.

Hey. Is this Ellie?

———

Ellie takes a couple hours before responding.

It depends on who’s asking?

Your professor drones on about some random Shakespeare play and you can’t bring yourself to pay attention while you read over Ellie’s text.

Dina gave me your number, I heard you sell?

Man. I really hope you’re not a cop.

You chuckle at her text.

Not a cop. Twenty year old girl over here. I love One Direction.

That sounds like something an undercover cop would say.

Ellie made a good point. You scroll through your camera roll trying to find a recent selfie before landing on one you took a couple days ago. You’re clearly high in the picture, so maybe Ellie will take the hint.

Here. Proof. Not a cop :)

Pretty.

She sent her address in a separate text and informs you to meet her there around 7pm when she’s done with her night class. Your professor excuses the class and leaves the remainder of students to pack their things. 5pm. Usually you smoke before going to pick up. Clearly, that’s not an option today. What does one do while they wait if they have no weed?

———

Nothing. One does absolutely nothing if they have no weed.

You knock on Ellie’s front door and wait a few beats before stepping back from the doorway. The lock clicks before the dingy wooden door opens inward,

“Hey!”

Oh, damn. She is fine.

Her auburn hair is short and rests about an inch above her shoulders. It’s pulled slightly up into a bun and several short strands curl lightly along the nape of her neck.

“Hey! Ellie, right?”

She smiles, “that’s me.” The door is pulled open wider and she beckons you to come inside. A botanical tattoo swirls along her forearm and you find yourself staring at her awkwardly before you step into the house.

She tugs off her flannel and slings it over the back of a woven couch, leaving her in a fitted white tank top.

You suck in a breath, “how are you?”

How are you? Really? Who says that to a drug dealer?

She chuckles and slouches into the couch, patting the open spot beside her, “pretty good. How about you?”

“Honestly? I’m suffering.”

She laughs fully this time, “that bad, huh? Your dealer die or something?”

“God, I wish. His wife responded to my text and told me to fuck off, basically. That he doesn’t sell what I buy.” Ellie cringes and shakes her head, her lips pressed into a tight frown,

“she Skylar-Whited you? That’s pretty fucking rough.”

“That’s exactly what I said! Call me Jesse Pinkman, I guess.” Ellie shook her head again and leaned forward to grab a small mahogany box.

Her long fingers opened the lid and scrounged through the container before she happily hummed and held up what she was looking for. A joint was pressed between her fingers and she quickly snatched a lighter off the coffee table.

After she placed the box back on the table, she leaned back into the couch and stretched her arm along the back of it, her fingers barely grazing your shoulder. Ellie turned to face you and held the joint to your lips, “open up.”

Your face flushes as you do what she asked—demanded. Her fingers place the joint onto your awaiting lips and she quickly lights the paper, still holding the joint to your mouth.

What is this girl on? You can’t help but feel as if this is strangely intimate. Tom never held a joint to your lips! On second thought, it’s probably good that he didn’t.

You inhale and she pulls the joint to meet her own mouth as she watches you exhale.

“We can smoke this and then I’ll grind up some for you.” She passes you the joint this time.

“Oh—you don’t have to. I can take the nugs. I don’t want to trouble you.” You pass it back.

She smirks, the joint hanging from the side of her mouth, “no trouble at all. Happy to do it.”

“Is that what you tell all of your clients?”

Another smirk, “only the pretty ones.”

The joint is placed back into your fingertips and you are very glad, this way you can explain the extreme blush creeping up onto your cheeks as just you being overly high. Ellie has somehow moved closer to you, her thigh is pressed up against yours and the arm she has outstretched across the back of the couch skims the back of your shoulders. A chill rakes through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Here, take it.” The hand she has resting behind your head snatches her discarded flannel and drops it into your lap.

“Oh—thanks.” She hums in response.

———

Ellis is funny as hell. Each sentence that escapes her plump lips makes less sense than the last,

“would you rather be trapped in a locked room with a gorilla, or with…with a shit ton of cockroaches?”

She’s sitting opposite you on the couch, her back leaning against one armrest. One of her legs is bent and squished against the back of the couch, her other is sprawled off the edge of the couch. Bit of a man-spreader, this one. Your back is pressed to the opposite arm rest and your legs are stretched outward, resting softly in her lap.

Again, weirdly intimate.

“Oh. Fuck, probably the roaches? Just step on ‘em. Yanno?”

She gasps and latches onto your sock-clad feet, “sickening! Me and that gorilla are gonna be friends.”

You squint at her, “you gonna sell him some Mary-Jane?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and passes you the remainder of the joint. Your fingers skim over hers and she blushes a bit, nudging your finger with hers.

“Hey—so how much do I owe you?” You immediately regret ruining the moment the second the words pass your lips.

“Well, flattery works with me—“ you cut her off, “oh yeah? I would’ve kissed you earlier, had I known that.”

She flushes, “you can—um. You can still kiss me. If you want.”

And, just like that, your eyes turn into hearts and start beating rapidly. You surge forward and press your lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she flicks the joint out of her fingertips and grabs your cheeks, pulling you closer.

Her mouth melds to yours and immediately has you panting like a bitch in heat. She moves one of her hands to pinch at your hip, grasping and probing at you until you wind up straddling her lap. You press your chest into hers and squeak when you feel her hand push your hip down, effectively grinding you down onto her. A strangled whine leaves your lips as she pulls away and begins kissing down the column of your throat.

Her mouth is wet and firm while she sucks and nips on any naked skin she can find, moaning when she feels your fingers card through her hair. Your hips continually rut into hers and she quickly sets a different pace, gripping your hips and dragging you forward and back on her lap. Ellie moans when you grab her hair and pull. Her face is removed from your neck at the force of your tug and she pants to catch her breath before opening her eyes to meet yours.

“How’s free sound?” She gives you a crooked smirk and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

“Sounds like I’m ripping you off, Ellie.”

She groans and throws her head back onto the couch, “I love the way you say my name. And it’s not ripping me off, babe.”

And you’re blushing again. Babe. She called you babe.

She continues, “think of it as a little sampler. Free shared joint, some ground up weed, and some Ellie.”

You grab her cheeks and squish them together, “only if you swear this sampler is offered to me only. Can’t have anyone stealing my deals.”

She brushes your hands off and smirks again, “like I said earlier, pretty girls only.”

“You said ‘girls’ plural.” She laughs.

“I’ve got three clients. A grown man named Joel, one of the sociology professors—don’t tell anyone I said that. Then you. And I’m a lesbian, so…” She trails off at the end of her sentence and looks down at your lips again, hands splayed across your thighs.

You kiss her again. It’s short and chaste and it leaves Ellie chasing your lips for just one more. Two more. Three. How’s five sound?

She presses kisses to your puckered lips over and over, “all,” kiss, “the weed,” kiss, “you can,” kiss, “dream of.”

Ellie finally pulls away to fully look at you, “I mean it. You can have all the weed you want if you keep kissing me like that.”

————

When you finally clamber off of her lap and detach her hands from your hips it’s almost one in the morning. She sighs while she watches you stuff your ‘goody bag’ into your purse, slipping your shoes back on. Her fingers beckon you back to the couch and she taps your right leg until you bend it and rest your foot on top of her thigh. You were planning on walking home with your shoes untied, but Ellie’s nimble fingers quickly double knot each of your shoes; She presses a kiss to each of your knees before letting them straighten back out.

Her hands find your hips again—shocker— while she walks you to the front door. A kiss is pressed to your lips one last time and she gives you a firm squeeze when you lean in to hug her.

“Come back soon. Fuck that guy, I’m your new dealer for life.” You smile and step outside, “okay.”

She definitely tied your shoes too tight and you make a mental note to fix it when you’re out of her eyesight. As you’re walking down the sidewalk that leads you to campus she calls your name,

“Get home safe, yeah? Text me when you’re back!”

You will definitely text her.

[devilsrecreation]

I just thought of this:

So I’m thinking in my crackfic, after Jasiri and Kenge come back from Oz (as in wake up from a dream) and she’s telling everyone about it, Janja jokingly says “Next time, I’m goin’ to a fantasy world”, hinting at a joke sequel crackfic which I’ll never make.

And now I give you…..Janja in Wonderland

Janja follows what he swears is Ushari’s ghost down a hole or an Aardvark den into a strange new world where everyone seems to be crazy

The cast:

Janja as Alice

Ushari as the White Rabbit (ghost snake)

Sumu plays the role of the Doorknob but instead is the gatekeeper

Cheezi and Chungu as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum

Mzingo and his Parliament as the Flowers

Shupavu and Njano as the Cheshire Cat (skinks)

Kenge as the Caterpillar

Reirei as the Mad Hatter

Kiburi as the March Hare

Goigoi is that little door mouse inside the teacup cuz he’s so sleepy

Zira as the Queen of Hearts

Scar as the King of Hearts

The rest of the Outlanders as cards

Azaad gets the role of the Dodo, with the Night Pride participating in the Caucus Race

Extra notes:

-Janja’s the self aware one this time. He recognizes all of his friends but decides to play along for the hell of it

-Wema and Tunu play the role of Dinah (Alice’s cat), who follow Janja until he falls into the hole. Then they do that little kid “BYYYYEEEEEE!!!”

-Janja never cries, instead he gets pissy and fed up with everything. “Hey, that ain’t fair!” and “Oh, that is some bullshit” is a running gag

-Kiburi gets an accessory this time. He wears a gold chain and a cute little bowtie

-Instead of smoking, Janja finds Kenge using a tree as a punching bag. He’s also carved vowels in various trees with his claws. He gets mad when Janja grows bigger than him

-The scene where Alice gets stuck in the White Rabbit’s house doesn’t happen here. Mainly cuz I wouldn’t know what to do with it

-The “eat me” and “drink me” things still exist, but it’s a bone instead of a biscuit and a drink bowl instead of a bottle

-The minute Janja sees Scar and Zira, he immediately believes he’s gonna die 😭. It goes as well as you would expect

-Mzingo and his parliament are basically a club where they talk about random stuff while holding various types of flowers

-The fic ends with Janja waking up from his dream and everybody thinking he’s crazy Jfhhfgdg

[crystalbeetle888]

Voyage into the Unknown Pt.6

Master List Pt.5 - Pt.6 - Pt.7

Many more days pass, riding across fields and forest, through little valleys and rivers, up and down hills, in rain and sun. And during that time, I have only grown closer to Kili.  Not forgetting Bilbo, and Fili. Their company is the only thing keeping me sane as the older men continuously thwart any attempt of mine at helping. I feel stir-crazy as the days melt together, with nothing productive to do except talk, ride, and train at sword fight with Fili until dusk. 

The company rides up a grassy hill laying at the bottom of a tall cliff-face, large boulders scattered along the way. At the top, the ruins of an abandoned house lay. Thorin rides up to it “We’ll camp her for the night” He says, Gandalf already wandering around, inspecting the house. “Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them” he says to his nephews. Hoping off my horse I hand Kili the reins, and take my pack down “I suppose I won't be training with your brother tonight then” I swing my now very heavy bag on my back. “Well you can always watch the ponies with us, keep us company” I look over at Thorin who seems to be arguing with Gandalf in the ruined house “I’m not sure that he’s in the mood for suggestions right now, plus I think he’d say I’m ‘too distracting’” I mock Thorins’ deeper voice. Kili chuckles “You’re probably right”. “I’m definitely right,” I nod, pursing my lips. “And how do you know that?” he asks, “Because I’m a woman, and I know everything” we laugh together, Kili nodding along until a loud outraged voice interrupts us “Myself, Mr.Baggins!” Gandalf storms past us “I’ve had enough of dwarves for one day” I hear him mutter to himself as he wanders off into the wild. “Come on, Bomber, we’re hungry” Thorin calls over. The company whispers to one another “Where do you think he’s going?” I turn to Kili in concern, “Probably just off for a smoke, maybe a bath” He shrugs, not caring that the powerful being has essentially left us until further notice. Anxiety begins to creep into my mind, making me feel restless. Kili wanders off with his brother taking the ponies with him. 

Settling in for the night, Bofur fills up peoples’ bowls with the thick stew. I get up and hop in line for seconds, behind Bomber, who patiently waits for his turn. Bilbo fidgets, walking back and forth “He’s been a long time” He stomps over, “Who?” Bofur asks, “Gandalf” Bilbo stresses, Bofur scoffs “He’s a Wizard. He does as he chooses. Here, do us a favour. Take these to the lads” He hands over two bowls to Bilbo who didn’t really want to help out. Bomber sneaking the ladle for his fourth serving, tries to sip straight out the spoon “Stop it. You’ve had plenty” Bofur chides him, wrestling the ladle from him. “Let him eat if he’s hungry” I say, frowning at Bofur. The two turn to look at me, Bomber smiling under his thick braided beard, and Bofur shaking his head “Don’t start down that road lass, he’ll eat you out of house and home” He wags his finger. I roll my eyes at his antics “He’s not a bottomless pit”. Bofur laughs and whacks Bombers fat belly “He’ll eat a whole cheese wheel and then some lass” the two dwarves laugh, Bomber looking quite proud of himself. “Bullshit” I say, causing the two to chortle louder “Language lass! Bombers appetite is something to behold” he exclaims. I uh huh them, taking the ladle and pouring a scoop into my bowl “I’ll believe it when I see it mate” “Well, maybe one day you’ll have to experience a true dwarvish feast, that’s where the real action happens” He winks and I laugh “I suppose I’ll have to then aye” He nods with a chuckle as I turn away, and walk around the socialising men to find a quiet spot to sit and enjoy my meal. 

The wind is nice and cool after a long hot day of horse riding, my legs ache deeply, my heart aching also. Homesickness isn’t something I thought I would be feeling. But here I am, sadly sipping my stew, longing for my daily, or even weekly routine. Opening up the studio in the early morning, working away at my latest collection of paintings until noon, where I would then go and help teach at the local dojo to the juniors class. Some may think my schedule was repetitive or boring, but I really enjoyed the normality and structure. Always buying a vanilla iced chai from the bakery next door, possibly a mini pizza or pasty. Always passing by the same calico street cat, sitting on the town statue down the front most street, waiting for pets or food offerings. I had always thought her name was Fatty or Big Bess, Bessie for short. But I’ve heard other suggestions like Spot or Tiger, or more suitable ones for her weight like Jabba or Big girl.

I sniffle, face heating up at the thought of home. Taking a deep breath to settle my heart, I barely notice Balin walking over “You alright lass?” I jump, his voice surprising me, “Yeah just missing home, you know” I continue to sip on my now cold soup. “Aye I know that feeling well” He sits down on a rock beside me “Sometimes it helps to talk of it” He smiles warmly at me “Tell me about it hay?”. I sigh “I was actually thinking of a fat street cat” I laugh sadly and he chuckles “Not thinking of family?” He jokes. I smile strained at him “No, I don’t have any family left” stir my soup aimlessly. “I’m sorry lass, I didn’t mean anything by it” He apologises quickly “Nah it’s all good mate, they died a long time ago” I stare out over the dark valley, clouds rolling over the hills. “How’d they pass?” He asks quietly, “My mother died of- uh a brain illness, and my father died from- overindulgence in substance” I say before sculling the last of cold stew in one gulp. “I’m sorry lass, sometimes terrible things occur and all we can do is hold out, in hope of a better day” He leans over and pats my shoulder in a very fatherly way, causing my eyes to water “Thank you” I whisper. 

The moment of solemn silence between us is broken by two princes rushing through the brush shouting “Thorin! Mountain trolls have snatched the ponies!” they shout alerting the company “Bilbo went ahead to try and release them, we don’t know how long he’ll last” Fear strikes my body ‘Shits’ just gotten real’ I think scared as the men grab their weapons, preparing for a fight ‘What the fuck is a mountain troll?’ I place my hand on my sheathed sword. I've never had to use this in an actual fight before, let alone aim to kill someone. Balin places his hand on mine “Stay here lass, if we don’t return, run like the wind and find Gandalf”. I nod shamefully, knowing I won’t be of much use. As the men march off to battle, the princes leading the way, a deafening silence washes over the camp. My anxiety spiking through the roof, ‘When am I supposed to run?’ ‘Where am I supposed to go’ and most nerve-wracking ‘What if they need help?’ I jitter and buzz with adrenaline, pacing around the camp. “How about I just go and check it out? Yeah, then if they need help I’ll- do- something” I hype myself up. Pulling out my machete from my pack, I jog into the woods, making sure to keep low. A bright glow lights up the forest ‘How did we not notice them?’. I creep up to the light and hide in a bush at the top of the mound, overlooking their camp. In the centre of the clearing a large bonfire is lit, with some of the dwarves spit-roasting over it. Three giant, ugly, ‘mountain trolls’ stand around arguing with Bilbo about how they're going to cook the company, before one of them picks up Bomber and dangles him over his mouth. Sliding on my belly, down the mound and through the brush, I sneak up behind Thorin who lays closest, and grab the rope tying his sack closed. Thorin jumps at the touch before I shush him, working on cutting him free.

“Oh, not that one. He’s infected.” The troll turns to look at him “Huh?” “You what?” they ask outraged. “Yeah, he’s got worms in his- tubes” Bilbo makes something up quickly, and to my surprise the troll toss Bomber back on the pile with a loud “Eww!”. “In fact, they all have. They're infested with parasites. It’s a terrible business and I wouldn't risk it. I really wouldn’t” He tries to convince them. 

Their conversation about parasites drift into the background as I focus on cutting though this stupidly thick rope, with my stupidly small pocket knife. Finally cutting it, I pull the cord loose from around Thorin's neck, and attempt to grasp the back of Thorin's shirt and pull him up. However he’s much heavier than I expected, and I struggle to pull him even an inch up into the scrub. “Come here you!” one of the trolls exclaims before I am suddenly lifted up by my leg. “Oi look Tom, look what I've got” He proudly waves me in the air, ragdolling me, to the other trolls. “Put her down!” “Leave the lass alone!” the company shouts angrily. The troll brings me to his face and gives me a long sniff. “Mmmh man-flesh” he says, rancid breath wafting over my face causing me to dry-heave upside-down “And it’s a female” he says excitedly. “Taste better than the males” He raises me high above his face causing me to shout out in fear and wriggle furiously in his grip, kicking and punching his hand “Put me down you fat ugly cunt!” I scream at him causing him to crack up laughing. “Do you ‘ear that Will? This ones’ got fight in it” He shakes me around violently, ceasing my wriggling. 

“The dawn will take you all!” Gandalf’s voice bellows over the commotion. “Who’s that?” “No idea.” “Can we eat him too?” the trolls ask before Gandalf strikes the stone he stands on, breaking it in half and allowing the morning light to cascade over the trolls. They retract, groaning in pain as they quickly turn to stone. The company cheers joyfully “Oh, get your foot out of my back” Dwalin complains from the spit-roast. Still hanging upside-down in the dead troll's grip, the blood really begins to rush to my head. “A little help anyone” I mutter weakly as my vision begins to spot. “Just hold on lass we’ll get you down” someone yells.

Eventually, after they had saved themselves, the dwarves managed to get me on the ground again. “You could’ve sustained serious injury, have you no care for yourself?” Thorin hisses as he marches over. Tired and nauseous, I lay flat on the dewy grass, without saying a word in response. I groan in discomfort, being shook around like that has really pulled everything out of place. “Do you have nothing to say for yourself?” He scoffs. “Yeah, I do have something to say actually. Sod off!” I bark back at him before covering my eyes with my arm, a headache slowly creeps up my neck. Balin interrupts Thorin by saying something in Khazdul, causing him to back off in a huff. Thorin then goes to harass Gandalf leaving Balin to tend to my wounds.

Master List Pt.5 - Pt.6 - Pt.7

[kwisatzworld]

MotoGP mutterings: life ‘inside the goldfish bowl’

by Mat Oxley, November 2005

It’s not easy being Valentino Rossi. Imagine: you’re trying to get on with your day-to-day job of being the world’s greatest-ever motorcycle racer and you’ve got Ferrari’s F1 bosses all over you like an expensive Italian suit and the Italian media all over you like a bad case of the pox. (And not only that, between races you’ve got to work out how to blow your annual earnings of 15 million quid.)

Rossi’s life has been out of control for years, hounded wherever he goes by a pack of media sharks, but since the Ferrari F1 rumours shifted into top gear, his life in “the goldfish bowl” (as he calls it) has gone from uncomfortable to intolerable. The bike racer who courted fame like no other and whose stardom has eclipsed all others now finds himself embroiled in a guerrilla war with several Italian journalists whom he’s banned from his media conferences for writing stuff he doesn’t like. This is dangerous territory, so is everyone’s favourite bike racer commencing his descent into paranoid megalomania or Jacko-style meltdown?

Rossi has always insisted that he understands the nature of the Faustian pact he’s made with fame and fortune. But if he’s getting upset by what he reads in the papers, he’s obviously forgotten what it means. (And if he thinks he’s got a media witch hunt on his ass he should have a chat with the great Pete Doherty.) To remind him, the Faustian deal for 21st century celebrities goes something like this: you become unimaginably rich from a new kind of global fame which beams you into hundred of millions of homes around the world, day after day, week after week. You are a product with perhaps half a billion customers who all own a little piece of you, whether they’ve bought your T-shirt, drank the beer promoted during a MotoGP ad break or smoked the cigarettes advertised on the side of your motorcycle. It’s not pretty but that’s why you’re so filthy rich. If you don’t like it, there’s a really easy way out of this particular hell hole.

Apparently Rossi fell out with those Italian journalists because they’d written stuff about his private life – revealing details of his night-time shenanigans, questioning his status as a bona fide Italian tax exile, calling his family a bunch of gypsies and so on. Not nice, but that’s the nature of 21st century media, it’s a beast, as another Italian superstar knows all too well: “When a journalist write about the positive, he write five lines,” says opera legend Pavarotti. “When he write about the negative he become a poet.”

If Rossi is to maintain his sanity he’s got to stop reading the papers, whatever they’re saying about him, he’s got to ignore the media bullshit and get on with his life. And if the media give him a hard time for shagging girls, getting drunk or whatever, fuck ‘em. He is a motorcycle racer, after all, and that’s what racers are meant to do – live fast and loose. As someone once said of Rossi’s idol, Hollywood rebel and half-tasty dirt racer Steve McQueen: “Steve loved anything with wheels or tits, probably in that order,”. No reason why Valentino should be any different...

And from now on it seems that either two wheels or four will do for Rossi. Years back he hated F1 because he reckoned it was all about money but more recently he’s been seduced, either by the Ferrari gold or by the challenge of becoming only the second man in history after gentleman John Surtees to win world titles in both bikes and cars. Either way, he’s welcome to it. F1 is a stinking world of repugnant decadence and ostentation, full of money-grabbing, tax-dodging ego-maniacs and obsessive-compulsives with small penises. (I know this for a fact because I used to go out with a girl who once shagged one of F1’s more famous bosses, who failed to impress her despite having popped a Viagra after dinner. Charming, I know, but you get my drift.)

And as for the now relentlessly asked question – will Rossi be able to rule in F1 – two observations: one, who cares, it’s cars not bikes, two, of course he will win. Even former bike racer Damon Hill managed to win the F1 world title, and, hell, I used to beat Daisy (as he was called in the rough, tough club racing paddocks of the early Eighties) when we raced Yamaha LCs around Snetterton. So it really can’t be that hard, can it?

[pixeldistractions]

When Colette made it down to the kitchen, she was pleased to see homework books open and being worked on. One less thing to stress about. Dinner though. She called in an order for takeout. Colette didn’t cook. Actually, that was another thing Jordan left them to deal with on their own. As it turned out, he cooked more than she did. And even when he didn’t cook, he often brought leftovers home from the hotel kitchen or brought the boys in after school for dinner.

So much for that. But Colette wasn’t broke, and they would eat somehow.

“We can go on the train,” Milo suggested after she’d hung up the phone. “We can ride it by ourselves. You don’t even have to take us.”

“No,” Colette said. “You can’t, actually. Not until you’re ten. And I’m not sending you to live in a camper. But since you all love to go behind my back, why don’t you tell your dad to get a real place to live? He doesn’t even have electricity—did he tell you that? Could you live without all your video games for even a weekend? Just finish some of that homework. I do not want another email from your teacher. C’s are not acceptable. And I hate your hair like that, it’s too long.”

“God, Mom, chill,” Felix said. “Maybe if you weren’t so crazy all the time, Dad wouldn’t’ve left.”

She felt that one like a dagger in her gut.

Milo didn’t chime in, but he didn’t defend her honor, either.

Those boys would never know how close they’d come to seeing their beloved game console spiked through the center with the sharp heel of her pump, shattered into pieces, then scooped up in a dustpan and thrown into the bay.

But she didn’t do that, because she was a grown-up. She was the one who held everything together and cleaned up everyone else’s messes.

To hell with both of them. To hell with everything and everyone.

She closed her eyes, balled her fists so tight that her fingernails made crescent-shaped indents in her palms. “I’m having a bath,” she said. “That homework will be finished by the time I’m done or God help me, I will throw your games into fucking bay! And if you don’t think I can throw that far from here, I dare you to try me.”

There was tension in her shoulders that she needed someone to pound out. She could also use a good pounding, but she couldn’t begin to imagine how to make that happen now. Jordan had been good at giving both, once upon a time. Shame he had to fail her in absolutely every other possible way.

She had her yearly checkup that morning.

Your blood pressure is high. Are you getting any exercise? Eating fresh fruits and veggies? Making time for self-care?

Please. Her children’s father fucked off to the wilderness on a journey of enlightenment or some bullshit and excuse me, fucking self-care? Can you just get the exam over with and get me out of this paper gown?

Colette didn’t have any date to go on. She did match with a trauma surgeon on her dating app, and he did sound very successful. She had been hopeful that he could administer a good pounding, or at the very least, maybe he could help with her high blood pressure. But she didn’t have a babysitter for the boys, because their father was a flake.

The boys were asleep and their homework books were stacked by the time her bath was finished. She wasn’t going to check the homework. She knew there was no possible way Milo could complete his fifteen missing assignments in one night.

They had eaten the takeout she ordered, and she didn’t order anything for herself. She would eat rice crackers from a paper bowl.

Self-care? She cleaned a whole man out of her house, and maybe that was her self-care.

What few things he left here she threw in the trash—a toothbrush, a small pile of dirty work clothes, a pair of muddy boots. As it turned out, she never let him keep much here in the first place.

But the couch smelled like him, like orange soap and wood chips and campfire smoke. So she trashed that, too. And she bought another one. She spent a whole paycheck on it, and she framed the whole room around it. This wasn’t the kind of couch anyone would ever sleep on. The leather was cold and hard, the angles sharp, the color was an eye-searing fuchsia, and the design was exquisite. It was like a piece of art.

She bought a flamboyant vase for a very fake plant. She bought a thin bookcase for books she wouldn’t read. The room felt beautiful and hollow.

— from “boxes and squares #4.1: first fall apart” (4/5)

Next ->

[jazz-miester]

All I Could Say

Pairing: N/A

Reader Type: Gender Neutral Human

Song: It was a sin - The Revivalists

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of smoking.

An: Chapter one of something I'll probably never continue after I post part of chapter two or maybe I'll do a rewrite. Idk. Just trying to keep the blog alive lol.

Word Count: 5642

And if I hadn't said "Hello." What then?

“So do right people with wrong timing ever get a second try?” - (Via Welcometothedarksideofthemoon)

If there was one thing I could wish for it would be to not have to wake up in the mornings. It always came with the expectation that you had to do something. That in order for a morning to be good you had to be productive. God that was a bunch of bullshit. Mornings are for you to contemplate life then immediately go to your nine to five job.

My alarm blares to the right of me Breaking the silence of the room. I pull my arm out from beneath the duvet, goosebumps prickling the skin as it meets cold air. I smack my hand around until I find my phone on my bedside table. Toppling over water bottles and pencils to the floor as I do so. I just pray that one of those bottles wasn't open.

“Ah! Shit!” My dumbass self forgot to turn the brightness down before plugging it in last night. It was four in the morning. Sighing I drop my phone on my bed and cover my eyes with my arm. “God help me.” It’s too early. Why the hell did I live this far out of town again?

The back of my head aches. Tendrils of pain curling around with the promise of a migraine to come.

The end of my bed dips causing me to shift to one side momentarily before a heavy weight flops onto my stomach. Drool seeps through my t-shirt. “G’morning Orion.” My hand meets fur as I scratch behind his ears. “You’re up early. Ya hungry?” He barks once and lifts his head so I can get up. “Let's go get you some food then.”

“Yuck.” I pull my shirt off as I nudge my bedroom door open with my foot. The lock broke a month ago and I'm too lazy to replace it.

I let Orion outside to do his business before filling his bowl up, throwing in some of last nights dinner as well. By the time I started the coffee maker he’s already back inside. Orion drops a stick at my feet and barks once.

“Ah. Gee thanks bud.” Satisfied with whatever was going through his doggy brain he left the stick to go eat breakfast. I toss it into the corner with the other sticks.

After getting my first cup of coffee I hop on the kitchen counter setting the cup to the side as I search my sweats pockets for my cigarettes and lighter. Forgetting I left them in last nights pants.

It doesn’t take too long to find them.

If only mom could see me now. Such a star child I am.

I flick through the radio to find a station to get rid of the silence while I smoke. After settling on classic rock I hopped back on top of the counter to drink my coffee. Flicking through my phone as I do. I flick through any social media for a bit. Looking for any kind of news, messages, notifications.

A picture of Orion had gotten twenty likes on Instagram. He was slowly getting up in age as the years piled on. It showed in the slight grey on his muzzle and feet. In the aching of his hips as he needed more and more help up the stairs or into the pickup. He also slept a lot more, which says a lot for a Mastiff. They already slept a lot. Lazing about during the day. He’s seven now. O got him when I was sixteen. A birthday gift to myself.

“Shit!” The clock read four thirty. I had to be in work by six and I lived about an hour out from Jasper. I down the rest of my coffee, now cold. and ram the end of the cigarette into the ashtray.

I scramble to get ready.

Pulling out random jeans, shirts, and jackets until I find something that sort of matches. Taking a little bit more care to dig through my rings and replace a few piercings so I don’t completely look like a loon.

I forgo cleaning my face to save time and go refill Orion's food and water dish. Leaving the kitchen door open so he can have the backyard.

I shove my wallet and phone charger into my pockets. Along with my lighter and half carton of cigarettes. I flick the lights off as I leave, turning the ac on so it wouldn’t get sweltering in the house.

“No keggers and no girls over.” I point my finger at Orion who huffs from his bed and turns to look the other direction. “Rules are rules man.” Laughing to myself I walk into the garage. My clunker of a truck and my bike sit, waiting. I grab my helmet from the truck bed and pull the keys out of it. Patting the side of the truck I apologize to it. “Sorry blue but you still need fixed.” I’ve been waiting for replacement parts for about a week.

I put the helmet on and get on the bike. Turning the engine on as I kick the stand up. I have to walk it backwards in order to get it out. The garage door clammers closed as I took off down the road.

My mom’s always hated the fact that I ride my bike. Multiple times she’s tried hiding my keys, my helmet. Fuck, she’s gone as far as driving nails into my tires, claming that I must have drove over them on the road. There's more, honestly. But it's not something I can think about without my blood boiling.

This bike was the one thing I had left of my Grandfather. It was his bike when he was younger. And now it’s mine. Maybe one day, if I find someone. I might pass it down. But as for now it's not a concern even worth thinking about. I'm fine as I am. Complete by myself.

It was an intoxicating sense of freedom that this bike gave. One wrong move and it was over. I’d go ass over tea kettle and night night Y/n. Or a trip to the hospital.

It was one thing I could control.

Another way to flirt with death.

I’m in town a while later. The hustle and bustle of the small town is a cacophony of sounds. From cars to children and chiming doors.

The bike's engine rumbles beneath me. My hands tighten and loosen on the handlebars as I roll to a stop. Booted feet planted firmly to the pavement as I waited for a greenlight. I get a few looks, not unusual, A little girl waves excitedly at me and I wave back. The light flicks to green and I take off.

I work in a tattoo shop. When I first came to this town I was amazed that I was able to find one. I pull into the small lot and kill the engine. Shoving the keys into my pocket. The glass door opens with a quiet chiming of bells. I rub my hand over a wooden statue of a dog that sits next to the doorway. A force of habit after working here for so long.

“Y/n! You finally made it!” I laugh and pull my helmet off. I catch sight of myself in the reflection of the window. My hair wild around my face. smoothing it down I reply.

“Hey. I made it on time.” I glance at the clock. “I mean. I’m only a minute late.” The old man smiles.

“C’mon kid. You’ve got an appointment at seven thirty. Set up now and it’ll make your life a lot easier.” John was the store owner. He started the place after he got back from vietnam. He held the same physic he did when he was younger. Corded muscle bound beneath tan skin. Just a slightly more round belly from his beloved apple fritters. I only knew what he had looked like from his wife. A sweet lady who often sneaks Orion treats when she thinks I'm not looking.

“Ya ya I know. Ya mind if I go pop in the Cafe after I’m done? I didn’t get the chance to eat.” John shook his head.

“Kid. I swear if you don’t start eating I'm gonna give you to my wife. N’ she doesn't take no for an answer.” I drap my jacket over the back of my chair, telling him that, indeed, I will try. The last time the couple found out I hadn’t eaten all day, Marie, John's wife, made me eat till I was fill to bursting. Then sent me home with enough food for a week.

I made a tray of brownies, the only thing I could bake without burning, and did all their yard work as a thankyou.

I had gotten two black coffees and two bagel sandwiches from the caffe. The barista was one of my favorites. Always asking about my tattoos and piercings. Asking why I got them and how much it hurt. I was happy, as always, to answer them. Today’s was whether or not it would hurt if they got a vertical labret like my own.

“Come by the shop and find out. Include some of those lemon squares and I'll take some off the price.” They laughed and said maybe some other time.

My seven thirty came in a few minutes early. She was a bit younger than me. Maybe twenty two, twenty three. And this was her first tattoo. She was a bit nervous but still held on to that bubbly personality she had when I first met her. She didn’t get a very big one. and it was on her upper thigh.

After going over the placement she sat on the chair. I taped the hem of her dress so it wouldn’t hike up as I tattooed her. Consistently I asked her if it was ok if I placed my hand here, is this comfortable. Do you feel ok?

It was her first time and I didn’t want her to have the same horrible experience I had.

Her tattoo came out great in the end. If I may toot my own horn for a moment. It was one of my own. A woman from the waist up, a skull in one hand and a sword in the other. A crown of thorns resting on her brow. It was pretty clean linework and shading. One of the best I’ve done so far.

I go over on how to take care of it as I clean everything up and place the protective cover over it. She’s ecstatic as she looks at it in the mirror. The hem of her dress flutters around her thighs as she moves side to side.

“Thank you! It looks amazing!” I just laugh and lead her over to the till.

“Ah, Thanks. M’ just glad you like it. Be sure to come back if you see anything out of the ordinary ok. Don’t be afraid to call either.”

The day basically goes on the same. Consultations, designing new tattoos, and actually tattooing. John has people coming and going for piercings. He’s actually done a few of my own. My labret, tongue, and nose piercing.

My stomach growls as we lock up and clean up. Having skipped lunch and downing an energy drink instead. My body, as tratorus as it was, rebelled against my poor choices.

I pull my jacket on and grab my helmet after cleaning my station. My back aches and my hand hurts from constant drawing and leaning over.

“Heading home kid?” John askes. He had a binder tucked under one arm, phone in hand.

“Ya. I gotta feed Orion, then I might go take a drive.” It was three going on four so I had time before nightfall. John pulled a dog treat out from a drawer on his desk.

“Well, give this to the big guy. Make sure to tell him it was from me.” I smile and take it, putting it into the breast pocket of my jacket so it wouldn’t get crushed.

“I’ll be sure to, John.” The guy loved him. Both dog and man being gentle giants.

The ride home is a bit longer than the way up. Having to pick up groceries for dinner.

Orion could hear me the moment I pulled into the garage. His tail thumping on the floor behind the door. Speaking of which. The moment I open it i’m knocked over by two hundred and forty pounds of slobbering mastiff. He barks twice, nudging me to get off the floor.

“Ya ya, ya old bastard. Here ya go. A gift from John.” Orion perks up at the name as I pull the biscuit out. He nibbles at the end until I release it and tell him “ok”. It’s gone in seconds. He barks once he leaves to go to his bed.

“Really feeling the love bud.” I pull my shopping bags out from the saddle bags of the bike and head to the kitchen. Tossing everything onto the table along with everything in my pockets and my helmet. Dinner was nothing special, a rotisserie chicken, potatoes, mac’n’cheese and some greens. I was too lazy to actually cook anything that night.

Orion rests his head in my lap while I use his head as a table for my sketch book. Doodling new tattoo ideas and whatever happens to pop up in my mind. A cigarette dangles loosely from my lips. Unlit because I didn’t want any ashes to fall on Orion and hurt him. After a while I set it to the side and pet him. Ringed hand going from his head to his back then up again. Orion licks my hand at the fourth round about. Brown eyes looking up at me.

This dog has been with me through some tough times. I left home when I was sixteen. Barely any money to my name. I was homeless for a while. Working odd jobs wherever I could to keep him fed. He’s been with me through yelling and screaming. He’s kept me safe from horrid people. He kept my ex from harming me. Orion was quite literally the only reason I was still on this earth. The only constant in my life that hasn’t left or tried to hurt me.

“I love you Orion. You know that? I hope you do. Oh god. I hope you do.” I bow my head and press a kiss to his head. I know that I’m going to be devastated the day I lose him. I have no idea what I’m going to do without him. Orion licks my hand again. Whining as if he could feel the hurt welling in my chest. I shake my head and lean back against the couch. It wouldn’t do good to dwell on things that haven’t happened yet. Nor is it good to reminisce about the past I've tried so hard to run away from. I haven’t thought about my family in a long time. It wouldn’t do good to dredge up the feelings I've worked so hard to chain down.

“Do ya wanna go for a drive Orion?” I glance up at my bike helmet. He just looks up at me. Then huffs. He used to love driving in the sidecar on my bike. I took it off a long time ago because it got to the point he couldn’t sit in it anymore. I always offered it to him. But, like always, he went and flopped down onto his bed. “Well, i’m gonna go on a ride bud. Ok? You stay here and be good. And I'll bring you back a couple of burgers from KO’s. Despite how bad you stink afterwards.” I give him another treat before leaving. Turning the tv on so he had something to pay attention to while i’m gone.

It’s cooler outside now. The sun slowly sets over the horizon. It felt weird not seeing mountains out in the distance. Just flat land with the occasional rock jutting skywards. As if it were desperate to touch the clouds. I flew along the pavement. Everything is blurring around me. I stay on the main road for a couple of miles before peeling off into an old back road.

Pavement eventually turns into gravel then gravel evens out into solid rock. Cliff faces surround either side of me. The air cools down even further. Icy cold and bitting into my skin despite the jacket as I drive on. The sound of the bikes engine echoes against the rock walls. Deafening to my ears. The rocks close in almost dangerously close. The sides of my legs occasionally brush against the cliff face. If it were any other time I probably would have gotten scared and backed off. Afraid that I would get wedge and unable to get out. But, as it were, I've gone here what felt like over a million times. So I knew that the walls would part again. Opening up to the most bizarre place I had ever seen.

An open lake with large, deep blue crystal jutting put from the ground and rock walls. I've never boon good at identifying crystals so I looked it up online. Nothing I saw looked like what they were. As weird as it was, those crystals were comforting. An image I've drawn time after time.

I just hoped they weren't radioactive and that my hair wouldn't fall out.

I will admit I've checked to make sure I didn't grow any more extra toes once. I. I got a little too high that night.

I come to a stop at the opening of place. Turning my bike off and letting it sit next to the valley. My helmet sits next to my bike as I walk off. It's quite a bit away, the pool of water. Maybe a couple of football fields length away.

The air hums with the strange energy the crystals give. As if though they were singing. My toes touch the edge of the pool. It was crystal clear all the way through. And at the bottom more blue rocks. Like one of those crystal sinks filled with water.

I run my fingers over the surface of the water. Ripples distorting the image below. I hum along with the crystals. My voice echoing in the great chasm. The moon reflects in the pool. Stars looking as if I could reach right down and grab them. I wish I could bring Orion he. He would love it. Peaceful. Almost to the point of near sleep. As if though this was the resting place of tired souls.

I sit down on my heels. Still fluttering my fingers in the waters surface. Fingers tingling from the cold and the crystals. My rings clicked together as I moved my fingers.

As stupid as it sounds I chances swimming in the thing once. Stripped down to my underwear and dove right in. Not only did I freeze my ass off but I fleet whole body tingles for a week after. My entire body feeling as if I got supercharged and down a hundred monsters.

I didn't do it again after.

Not a whole lot anyways.

I lit cigarette and just smoked for a while. Letting the smoke curl around my lips and float into the open air. Just breathing in the good shit and exhaling all the bullshit I had been feeling before I came here. Letting the place wash away all the negativity I held. Wasn't that what crystals were for? Raising your vibrations or some shit.

I jerked my head upwards as I heard another hum. This one more deep and engine like. I glanced at my bike. No. It was turned off. I look back up in time to see the underside of a plane.

I'm calm for all of two seconds before I realize the damn thing is falling down right above me.

I uttered every swear word I knew right then and their. My heart jumping into my throat as I willed my legs to run. Falling flat onto my face and kicking up dirt as I jump back up and run what is hopefully far enough away.

The cigarette falls from my lips as what lands in front of me definitely is no longer a plane. I fall right on my ass and lose my breath as the thing lands. The ground shuddering beneath me.

That mother fucker was a giant robot. My brain resets. Blinking a few times and pinch the skin on my wrist. Hard. Pain bloomed. Nope. This was real.

Deep purple metal glints in the moonlight. Thick legs lead into a thicker waist. Then to broad shoulders and a head with no face. The things looks around at all the crystals. Body vibrating with what I could only call excitement.

"Commander Starscream. I've found the energon deposit." Asshole speaks english then. Dope. And what was energon. From the way the robot rapped it's knuckles on the blue crystals I supposed that's what energon was.

At least a had a name for it now I guess.

I glanced over at my bike. Wondering if I could make it there without altering grape juice there. I was halfway between him and my bike with nowhere to hide. So either I ran now and get caught with a headstart or the fucker sees me standing here and maybe tries to eat me.

I didn't see it coming for me. My eyes still trained on my bike. It wasn't until I heard rocks being crushed underfoot did I realize it was making a beeline towards me. It stops when it realizes that I'm looking right at it.

My heart pitter patters in my chest. Drumming along to the adrenaline pumping in my veins. It's silent. Save for the creeking of my leather jacket and whatever exhale breathing thing it's doing.

Blood rushes through my ears. It's red eyes cycling dark to light then back again. My mouth opens before I realize it.

"What in the fresh fuck are you supposed too be? WALL-E on steroids?" It rumbles deep and heavy. Shaking me where I stand.

"And what are you fleashy? Another Autobot pet?" I snort. Did this reject barny just call me a fleashy?

"Hey tin for brains! I got no idea what the fuck an Autobot is." Bad choice! Holy fuck bad choice for words. A scream hurdles out of my throat as rocks and dirt flung into the air. Raining down upon me. Rocks pelting my head and shoulders as it came back down.

I blink the dust from my eyes and glance to my right. A large crater where ground use to be. Any closer and I would have been incinerated. I swallow thickly and look up at the robot.

"So. Not reject barny then." My voice shudders and my body both shakes and feels like it's floating. I can't move. Frozen to the spot as realization rolls over me in cold wave after cold wave.

I. Almost. Died.

No one would have been able to care for Orion.

He comes for me again.

I'm still frozen.

Move.

Fucking move.

GOD DAMNIT MOVE!

My whole body surges forward. As if though it were a rubber band pulled back as far as it could go before releasing into the air. It shoots again and I wanna vomit. Fear like I had never felt it before.

One moment it's chasing me. The next it stops. I turn around in time to see it being tossed into next Tuesday.

"You will leave the human alone." Its voice rumbles like thunder before a storm. Promises over disaster dangling on the edges. Red and blue become a blue against purple as the two fight before bright blue stained the rocky floor.

Red and blue lays down purple as if it were a child. Cradling it's head as it helps purple lay on the ground. Offering it solace in its final moments.

The crystals change it's humming tune. Red and blue looks over at me. I step backwards. Sky eyes lock onto me. Darkening as if it were upset that I had flinched backwards.

"I am sorry." It rumbles. It's voice unlike any other I've heard. Gentle and commanding. Peaceful yet full of chaos.

"For what? Saving my life? Uhh. Thanks. By the way." I swallow thickly. So either this is hella A.I or...

"I am sorry for what you had to witness. I prefer if less human knew about us. For the safety of your kind. No doubt he has sent images of you back to our enemy." Hold up.

"Barney was taking pics?" My hands shook. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Whatever cotton candy here considered and enemy I did not want to know.

"Most likely. Yes. We have human allies. And with you being this close to an energon deposit no doubt he has thought you to be an Autobot ally." I say nothing. Do nothing. Was this gonna hurt Orion?

"So what? We part ways and pretend this didn't happen? I move towns and quite possibly see a therapist for what seems like the umpteenth time?" What I previously thought to just be a part of his face retracts. So. He has mouth.

"No." He starts. "You will go back to your residence. I will send Agent Folwer to come bring you to Autobot base in the morning." I raise a brow at him.

"How the hell will you know where I live? That being if I want to even see you again." Still quite a ways away he takes but three steps for him to come close to me. He drops on one knee. Hand dropping down beside me.

"This is for your safety. And that of any family you have. As for figuring out where you live, I will accompany you to assure no Decepticon follows you." His face is now level with mine. "I assure you. I mean you no harm." Something humms deep in my chest. Sparks shooting through from head to toe.

My hand moves on its own. My palm coming to rest upon metal skin. My hand small compared to the rest of him. He lets me. Not budging an inch. My fingers follow the curve of what I assume are his cheeks. The metal surprisingly warm and malleable. My hand shakes as I follow the contours of his face. Right up until I look into his eyes.

Not once had he stopped watching me. Not once had he looked away. They cycle and twirl. Like a camera lens focusing itself. Hot air rushes over me. He blinks.

Suddenly I'm five again. Bared open as me and this being look at each other.

I feel like I'm five again and staring into the night sky. Knowing full well I'm looking into something ancient. Something far older and wiser than I. It breaks me down to my very soul. Leaving me with my most vulnerable part. I swallow thick and jerk my hand away as if it burned.

He was old and ancient. And so very past his resting point. His body is tired and worn. And I feel guilty. Why? I truly don't know. But empathy wins over and all I want to do is say sorry to him, for whatever the universe has has done. For whatever fate deemed fit to steal from him.

"Sorry. I whisper." For touching what seemed like a gods instrument. Sorry. For whatever that God had done to him.

I glance to the ground. Then to him.

"Whats your name? What should I call you?" A smile. Barely there.

"Optimus Prime. And you, little human?" I hold my hand out to him.

"My name is Y/n. Y/n L/n." He held his own hand out to me then. His hand was so large my own couldn't wrap around one of his fingers. It was an akward little handshake, never the less, despite his gentleness. There was nothing but power behind that hand. He could very easily be rid of me if he wanted to. Left to be nothing. Just like the Decepticon laying on the ground. Nothing more than a husk of its former self.

"Home." I began. "Is this way. I don't think your gonna blend in very well though." He said nothing but nodded.

"I will meet you at the end of the valley. Y/n." He waited for me to get on my bike and drive off. I could feel his eyes on my back as I left. Watching over me for some reason or another. Maybe he thought there would be another purple robot?

The drive back through seemed longer than ever. Purely for the fact that I wanted to know just how he was gonna go through town unseen. I supposed I could go through the back roads. But then Orion would worry. I'm never longer than a few hours unless its for work. My legs once again touch the walls. A whispers breath apart. I shake my head. And who was this Fowler that I was supposed too meet? Was he a robot thing as well? Or was he human and one of the allies that Optimus spoke of. Maybe a government agent? I wouldn't put it past the government to hide something like this. Fucking hell. I appreciated it. Up until this point in time I was content without knowing their existence. And now I have to worry for mine and Orion's safety. Gods above I've really gotten into it this time. Lord knows was gonna happen at the end of it all.

There's a bright light when I pop out. And a large blue and red semi and im sent into a  panic for a moment.  Up until that thundering voice come out of it.

"I will follow you home. No one will know, Y/n." I swallow thickly and I'm thankful in that moment for my helmet hiding the surprised look on my face. I'd look like a right fool. With my mouth hanging low and eyes wide open.

"Holy fucking shit." I mutter beneath my breath. I had to drive past him in order to get back into the side road leading to the main road. My body screaming to get away from the semi from years of riding my bike on the highway. "Jesus christ he turns into a truck." Do the others all turn into other vehicles? Or is it strictly planes and trucks?

He's behind me the entire time I drive home. Just barely in view of my mirrors. Everytime I glance into the mirrors he'd blink his headlights as if he knew I was looking to see if he was still there. Showing me that he would keep his word. Dread swims in my stomach every so often; just because he saved me doesn't mean that he would be a good guy. I saw the way he took grape juice down. But. I click my blinkers on and turn left onto the road that leads to my home. Only one more hour and I could go and hug Orion and pretend that I wasn't scare shitless tonight. I glance back at my mirror and sure enough he blinks his headlights. Something inside me told me I could, at the very least, trust him to keep his word. That heavy feeling in my chest was back. A bright warmth unlike i've ever felt before. The only kind of warmth I felt once before.

Fucking hell. God damn gut instincts. I've only been wrong once when judging someones character. Despite everything screaming at me to not trust the guys. I just knew. That at the very least, with him, another one of those purple guys wouldn't hurt me.

Orion's howling when I get home. I don't even weight for Optimus to pull up behind my little garage and just dart into the house. Orion jumps up and gets his paws on my shoulders and effectively topples me over when I misstep and land one one of his toys. I hit the ground with a thud and get slobbered all over. Not one inch of my face is safe.

"Ah! Gahh! Orion! Dude! It's okay! I know, I know. I was gone to long but im here now!" I manage to sit up and hold his head in my lap. He's whining as he noses into my stomach. Every so often glancing over at the semi that has yet to leave. Despite wanting comfort in knowing that i'm not gonna just up and leave, he wants to make sure I'm safe. Optimus is the stranger here, and he's confused as to why no ones left the vehicle yet.

"Your companion is names Orion?" I look over at him. My hand soothing the top of Orion's head as I talk to him.

"Ya. Uhm." I look down at Orion. "It's after the constellation. I like learning about space n shit." And that's all he's gonna learn about me. Optimus rumbles a hum. The sound rolling over in my small garage.

"I will send Fowler over in your morning cycle. Feel free to bring your companion as well." He begins to roll backwards then stops. "And stay safe Y/n. Do not let anyone else but Fowler in." And with that he's gone. I watch as he rolls out of view before hearing some weird static. Like an old glass tv. The sound is gone just as quickly as it came.

I look down at Orion.

"Something tells me were gonna have a hell of a couple of weeks bud."

[thardigang]

A dream I had a few months ago

My family took me to a fancy hotel in my hometown. If you could even call it a hotel. The place was infinite. It had both indoor and outdoor pools, the outdoor one included a minigolf course alongside the perimeter of the pool so that the wealthy guests could golf in swimwear.

I joined my family for poolside, but the memories of being a child during the 2008 housing crash jolted me into lucidity. I immediately threw down my golf club and walked off to no one's attention.

"Now this must be the most bourgeoise bullshit I have ever participated in." I mumbled as I pulled a shirt over my head. Freedom swelled in my chest like collecting vomit, and I decided I would use my new found freedom in the best way any free mind could ever conceive of: I would go to a bar and get drunk.

I ran back to my room, passing through the indoor pool who's entrance was a slide for some reason and I slipped and fell down, hurting my head. Finally reaching my destination, I put together a dashing outfit complete with my starchy brown hide jacket.

A walk on the town was exactly what I needed. The sudden night air cooled my temper, and a new smoothie/oat bowl bar with outrageous pricing for Missoula, Montana reminded me I hadn't gotten my wallet. So, with some protest, I returned to the hotel.

Attempting to avoid meeting with literally anyone, I took the rearmost entrance I could access. It was open, almost as if I was allowed. However, this hallway quickly became a descending set of stairs. I followed them downwards deciding that some light trespassing would make for a good evening adventure. I reached the bottom and found another hotel hallway, however there were no guest rooms here, only staff doors and closets.

One such closet near the end had a metal door and was left slightly ajar. I pulled it open to see it was a cleaning closet, with metal shelves lined with the exact same bottle of fluid. Hundreds of them. I picked one up.

The container did not have a spray nozzle, nor any markings denoting what it was. It was just a clear plastic container with liquid.

"Fuck." I thought, as I tilted the bottle back and forth I saw it was a thick, viscous, beige liquid. "This is fucking pus." I thought to myself.

I quickly set it down and looked back down the closet and noticed it had grown deeper and deeper. The pus bottles now numbered in the thousands. I ran through trying to find the end of the closet but only found a light. The light came from another room, separated by a door. It looked like another storage closet. I peered through the door and saw even more shelves full of pus bottles, and a man.

A man who looked like a janitor. A blue jumpsuit. Taking bottles seemingly at random and placing them in a cart. I hid, terrified of being found here. What if it was some sort of disgusting pus harvesting operation, and that man was the head sicko? Before I could really make a decision for myself, the man had gone. I followed behind and inspected the room.

So much. Too much pus. A suspicious amount. Dangerous even. I ran so hard and so fast I didn't even remember where I went and how I escaped, I just ended up back in front of my room.

At this point I thought, "Stephen King would fucking love this place." And as I was about to just get my wallet and pretend none of this had happened with the help of cheap whiskey, I noticed another open room.

Curiosity, as it usually does in these situations, got the better of me.

It was another very long room. It had about ten beds with very old metal bedframes, the kind that Oliver Twist and his friends would sleep on.

The bed closest to me pulled me in, I never moved to it. I crouched astride it and looked underneath, as if I was checking for midnight monsters like a kid. Lying there, was a single tiny piece of lint.

Then it sparked. A bright orange spark. Smoke began to grow out of the lint.

"Oh fuck." i thought as I pressed my thumb over the lint to extinguish it. But it burned brighter, and my thumb hurt to much. Now the burning lint was larger, and I placed my entire palm over it to kill it once and for all. Still, the flame kept growing and pushed my hand away.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck." I repeated as I could only watch. I was sure this my fault somehow.

The lint kept growing, so much so that it now had shiny black bits that looked like polished steel coming from one end. I recognized peering eyes being born from its face. Then, a long pointed beak, like a crow's came unfurled. Then the lint took the shape of wings, and the creature stretched it's body for the very first time. In the gaps between the strands of hair, I noticed this living bird made of lint was growing a spine. A spine so thin it was translucent. I saw the spine was filled with that same beige liquid, if a small amount.

I gasped in terror of what just came into being in front of me. The lint bird crowed.

I awoke.

[autumnonapoea]

I went to my very first Pride festival yesterday. I had an amazing time being with friends and around our people. I also kind of hated it

Hate is a strong word; wary, maybe?

A number of caveats: I’ve been out for two years, on HRT for just over a year, and my inexperience is probably pretty obvious. Also, I am certainly some degree of stupid. I’m a trans girl whose gender falls more into the spectrum of gremlin than anything else. The gaggle of trans folks I was rolling with are feral sewer kittens. I love us. And we are as far from the upwardly mobile cisgender gay men of Midtown as one could likely get in the LGBTQIAtl

My typical gay-as-fuck night out generally centers around Mary’s on a Tuesday night, sipping delicious and splendidly colorful mocktails on the back porch, making eyes at the other dolls and possibly making out with someone or several someones. Hey, I am pretty, give me a little credit. If Tranny Tuesdays are my norm, I can really only liken Pride to the Super Bowl of faggotry. And while I love wings (all flats for me please) and chips and dip, I do not enjoy the Super Bowl

The line to get into Mary’s was… well I think we can leave it at There Was A Line. The crowd inside was unfamiliar and enormous and the fact that I was incredibly stoned only made the feeling of overwhelm more potent. Standing on line I was very aware of the increased traffic through East Atlanta Village and I said to one of my friends that it felts like we were on display for straight people. Again, I was out of my head so it may have been my imagination but the passenger faces pressed against car windows making eye contact with me as they slid down Glenwood told me otherwise.

I saw no one I knew inside the bar and no one I knew on the back deck. I was surrounded by flashy beautiful clothes on gorgeous people with rainbows painted on their faces and adorned on their clothes and while I felt serene and high as shit in the moment, I did feel a little out of place in my ratty army jacket covered in metal patches. So after a short while, my friends and I went back to where we started—the deck behind the pizza place next door. THAT felt familiar and safe and fun. We drank and smoked and talked shit and made out and wrestled and cuddled and a few folks got off on consensually putting out cigarettes on each others’ arms.

Atlanta Pride was good, it was an amazing sight, and I felt—in an enormous crowd of queer folks of all stripes—lifted up. But the pageantry and spectacle of the weekend wore on me, from the rows of corporate booths with rainbow tchotchkes trying to hawk bank accounts and cruise lines to the booming music pumping from multiple stages. I know I am saying nothing remotely new here, but Pride™️ felt more for Them than for Us.

I am aware that my goblin ass queerness thrives in dark corners and filthy parking lots. That no one is in any hurry to put glossies of me and the swamp creatures I love on any kind of brochure. And one back porch, another one right next to it? I don’t really care as long as I’m with my friends. And while “pageantry and spectacle” may be part of many gay experiences, the enormous specter of trans persecution that has spread over these last few years makes me wish my greasy weirdo bullshit could just be, if not normal, then left alone. I’m glad everyone loves the party but that six-by-twelve patio is where I go for my oddness to blend with my fellow trans girls’ oddness and effectively disappear for an evening at a time. And it does not belong to me anymore than anyone else. And I’m being contradictory and cranky. And I have little to no thesis here. And I had a great time at Pride. And I’m a little wary of it at the same time.

[rosethornewrites]

Last August, when my cat died, a bunch of stuff happened around that same time.

My mom came down to my apartment to support me, but she had to bring my two eldest niblings, 16yo and 13yo, too.

My niblings are biracial, and their fathers are black. I am white, but I try very hard to stay educated on racial justice.

It’s important to note that I lived in Indiana at the time, in a small city that was a liberal bastion, but with a surrounding area that produced caravans of Trump supporters who would drive onto campus en masse on weekend nights to try to harass the students.

However, my niblings grew up in the Minnesota North Woods where things were a mite different when it comes to racism. Still racist, but a different flavor than what I’m familiar with from where I’ve lived. So they had no context for Indiana’s racism.

And so it happened that my mom decided she needed to go to an urgent care for something she’d been putting up with for a while, and she wanted to go to one in a small town south of the city. Because of course that’s how my life goes.

On the way, we passed a thrift store with a confederate flag trinket proudly on display in their window. The niblings liked how some of the dolls in the window looked and asked if we could stop, and I told them no.

I had to explain the confederate flag to them, and that especially in Indiana it’s a racist symbol since Indiana is the birthplace of the KKK.

In the wait for my mom to see a doctor, I tried to entertain the girls, but we went into one of those feed stores that has baby chicks, and things got very shaky very fast.

Two men entered the store. One was wearing a confederate flag bandana.

I quietly told the kids not to look at them, to stay together and behind me and not wander.

It was necessary. The guys split up and circled us as we went through the store. I kept my posture dominant and made it clear I noticed them and knew their bullshit the whole time. We didn’t shorten our trip and leave, but I was very aware that these guys wanted to intimidate us.

I was lucky the girls listened to me.

On the way out, I bought sodas for us with my credit card, specifically to leave an electronic trail as a just in case, then loaded the girls in the car, getting in last. Didn’t pull out until they did, and immediately went to the video-surveilled urgent care parking lot.

I’m not saying these guys would have gone out of their way to do anything, but if I or the kids made it easy they’d take advantage of the opening.

I’d shelved the incident for later processing, and it came up while I was smoking a bowl tonight.

Only other time I’ve been that full of adrenaline was when I was with two kids (I was the eldest) in an ill-advised adventure in a cow pasture, and the steers took an interest in us and never again. People do get killed by cows, after all.

As I’m starting to get better, my memories are coming back a bit, slowly.

There’s so much I had to just push aside for later, and I’m still getting stuff from the age of 11-13 back, which were very bad years for my depression.

[totallyexhausted]

South Park ff - Random Notes...

Just random ass notes in case my computer crashes... 

Dried blood soaked against his cuff as Kenny glanced down at his wrist, flicking the butt of his cigarette on the ground as he leaned against the school. This was a joke. Everything was a fucking joke. The blood lined against the creases on his wrists, reminding him that even death was a fucking joke as he cut against flesh he wished he didn’t have. Hell, he wished he didn’t have a lot of things… not that he had much. But his sister had caught him. She’d been there the first time, and last night… last night she’d caught him again. She’d caught him breaking a promise he’d made years ago. But it was so damn hard. Especially after Kevin.

           The 17-year-old groaned as he slammed his head against the wall behind him, letting his sleeve fall over his hands as he tightened the string around his hood, covering his mouth with the old fabric. He swallowed, nausea setting in his stomach as the pills he’d swallowed this morning mixed with whatever shit he could find to eat in the pantry. It was bare. Everything was. His mom hadn’t been to the store in a few weeks, and his dad only cared about himself.

           Kenny sighed again, reaching in his pocket and pulling an old joint from his jacket. His hands shaking as he cupped them against the stolen weed, flicking the lighter several times before a flame appeared. This was bullshit. The school was bullshit. The whole town was bullshit. Life. But he’d promised his sister after his brother died. He promised Karen he wouldn’t leave her. He’d promised her a lot of things. But things… things were hard. And she never really saw what he went through. No one did.

           The teenager closed his eyes, leaning against the yellow brick as cars started filling the parking lot. School would start soon. His friends would be here soon. And life would begin, again. Over and over and over. Fucking typical. Fucking exhausting.

           Kenny breathed in deeply, begging the musty joint to give him enough high to make it through the day; hoping it’d give him enough high. It had to. Because he had nothing else left. His stomach growled loudly, and Kenny grimaced, pressing a gloved hand against his hood as nausea ate away at the half stale Pop-tart he’d found in the back of the cabinet. It was cherry. One of the worst flavors in his opinion, but it was all he could find after letting his sister have the last bowl of cereal and water. At least she had eaten… honestly, that’s all that really mattered.

           The 17-year-old opened his eyes, coughing slightly as he flicked the rest of the joint on the ground, flipping off Mr. Mackey as the counselor glared in his direction, getting out of his car. It was forbidden to smoke on school grounds. Like the teenager gave a shit. He was the troubled poor kid after all, so it wasn’t like anything else was expected from him. Truth is, most students, including his own friends, would probably shit their pants if they knew he was number one in their class. He was poor, quiet, a bad influence, a rule breaker… he wasn’t supposed to be smart. He was supposed to be, according to Cartman, dumb as dirt. Because that’s how trash went. That’s how trash was viewed. That’s what trash was.

           A small smile broke out on his face as Kenny glanced towards the parking lot again, seeing Butters pull into the space next to the counselor. Ever since middle school, the sweet blonde kid had grown out of his awkward shy nature. He’d stopped being pushed over especially by Eric Cartman after a fight between the two that resulted in suspension for both. After that, Butters had changed. He was still kind and quiet, but he became cool and popular. He got a motorcycle when half the class got cars; he cut his shaggy hair, so it was short on the sides; and rumors were, he had a tattoo. But those were just rumors. And despite that, Kenny and the rest of South Park knew that the shy pushover who peed on stage once during a talent show, wasn’t the same little kid cowering under authority. Even Cartman was weary of him after Butter’s kicked his ass in front of the whole middle school class.

           Butters cut the engine, pulling his helmet from his head as he glanced in Kenny’s direction, nodding slightly. Kenny grinned, nodding back before directing his attention elsewhere. Stan pulled in, Kyle and Cartman in the backseat of his red 1999 shit box. Kenny pushed away from the wall, snorting as he made his way towards his friends.

           On Stan’s 16th, the teenager got his sister’s old car; a four wheeled piece of metal that died more than it started and as Cartman liked to say, “Made Stan look like he was driving around an old vagina.”

           But out of all of them, Stan was the only one who received a car. Even Cartman’s mom lectured about the safety and responsibility of vehicles, promising her son a car once he graduated high school later this year.

           “Hey, Kenny,” Stan said, shutting his door as Kyle threw his backpack at him. The teenager nodded, mumbling something behind his hood that sounded like, “Moffppftorning, Asspppfmmts.”

           “Goddamn, Stan, next time you pick me up in this, at least stop driving like your sister,” Cartman said as he slammed Stan’s door, taking a sip from his black coffee. Kenny rolled his eyes, shoving his hands in his pocket. They did this every morning.

           Ever since the summer before junior year last year, Cartman had lost weight and grown several feet, now sitting at the second tallest kid in their senior class. He stopped wearing his hat too, letting his brown messy hair become more of a signature than his ugly blue and yellow hat, even though he still wore a stupid red jacket. And despite still being an immature dick, his attitude had mellowed down some, which probably had something to do with the fact that he’d dated several girls last year, and he’d become slightly popular with the cheerleading squad- which was un-fucking-believable, honestly.  

           Stan and Kyle on the other hand were mostly the same. Kyle still stuck around even after Cartman’s relentless jokes and teasing. He still questioned everything and refused to bend to anyone’s will. He too had ditched his hat, cutting his hair down enough to run gel through it daily in hopes of keeping his curls down, but by the end of the day, it was still a messy afro. Him and Stan were pretty much the same height and built. And Stan and Wendy were still off and on monthly, and despite everything they’d been through, Kenny was pretty sure those two would end up married. And ever since Stan’s dad came out as the pop icon, Lorde, the teenager became widely popular in school and South Park.

           The bell rang behind them, sending shivers down the 17-year-old’s spine as he sighed. He mumbled something to himself as he followed his friends towards the door, wishing he’d just skipped, or at least stolen better weed from his father before leaving this morning. Not like the smell of stale alcohol, cigarettes and weed lingering on his clothes wasn’t enough to get high off. He glanced down at the blood still etched against the orange fabric, the rusty razorblade cutting into the scars on his stomach as it laid in his hoodie pocket. His sister had caught him… but that didn’t mean he’d stop. He just had to wait until she wasn’t around.

 …………………………………………………………………………………………………….

             Weak, Cartman muttered

Butter’s scar on his left eye from when they were kids

[everyounceofhate]

Let’s Talk About my Stupid Cunt of a Roommate

Aimee is fucking terrible and the only joy I get from her existence is watching her struggle knowing she will go to an early fucking grave. I’m so glad in less than 48 hours I won’t have to deal with her self-pitying bullshit anymore.

I oscillate between this paranoid feeling that she isn’t as stupid as she makes herself out to be and that she’s weaponized her incompetence to manipulate the people around her, particularly me, or that she’s genuinely as fucking stupid as she makes herself out to be. I’m pretty sure it’s the latter. For there to be an “average” intelligence baseline, there has to be a below average, and she’s it. 

I still can’t believe she managed to bullshit her way into a Master’s Degree, but let’s be honest: she has a Master’s in Art and she’s drawing fucking Neopets for a living, so it isn’t like she’s the cream of the crop. If anything that should be an inspiration for me to go back to school; if Aimee could get a Master’s, practically anyone can.

She can’t do the simplest of fucking tasks correctly. She can’t cook or clean without this sheen of sweat on her face from the effort of fucking standing up. She reminds me of the Witch of The Waste during that scene in Howl’s Moving Castle when she’s climbing the palace stairs, literally melting into a puddle of sweat and fat. 

Disgusting.

Out of the handful of times she’s cooked on the stove, one time she set off the fire alarm cooking bacon. She couldn’t figure out how to turn off the alarm, and she ruined one of my good pans. A nonstick copper pan! You know how hard it is to ruin a pan like that?! So I had to come in and save the day, as usual, since my bed is in the living room and connected to the kitchen, so I was choking on smoke. I also had to put my cat in her room and close the door so he wouldn’t get asthmatic from the smoke, or run out the front door when I left it open so the smoke could escape.

The other time, I asked her to make me a bowl of easy mac when I was sick. Super simple! You put it in the microwave! No, her dumbass tried to make a box of mac and cheese on the stove. Then tried to make me stir it because standing was hard. Then, when I couldn’t, because I was sick, she just left it to boil for a bit while her sweaty ass went to lay down--and she overcooked the noodles to a mush. How the fuck do you mess up mac and cheese?

No wonder she has to get McDonalds delivered to the house. Yeah--delivered. We live between 2 McDonalds that are both less than a mile from the house. She still has it delivered here. It’s so fucking disgusting. She waddles out of her her room with her hand jammed into her side, leaning at an angle like a deflating pool toy, to come get it, this empty smile on her face like she isn’t the most pitiful fucking human on the planet.

I stopped cooking for her and she immediately ordered delivery twice in one day. Then she had groceries delivered to the house. I should spit into her fucking coffee creamer. Just hock a giant fucking wad of snot into it.

I still remember the night before Wasteland when she broke the toilet and tried to blame it on the plumber and how he “used a bad part” like she would have had any fucking clue. Then I had to spend an hour with my hand jammed into a toilet tank trying to figure out how she fucking broke it. 

She is genuinely one of the most pitiful pieces of shit on the face of the planet. I can’t wait for her to move to Oregon and absolutely fail at living on her own again. I hope she has to move back to California in disgrace.

I wonder if Jake ever told her all the nasty shit he said about her to me. Like how she was spineless and how he stopped having sex with her because she was so unhygenic he thought she was disgusting. I’m sure that would put a pretty big damper on their “friendship.”

I hope her sciatica paralyzes her.

[makeyouminemp3]

so take your time while you're mine and smoke slow

steve harrington x reader (no specific gender use of pronouns), and platonic!eddie munson x reader

requested: nope, not at all

warnings: spoilers for stranger things 4 (both volumes), smoking (does it even need a warning, smoke is literally in the goddamn title), st*ncy (it deserves its own warning), also if you can't tell already, I am apart of the nancy protection squad and i will defend her in anyway possible so if you hate her: please leave, a helluva lot of mutual pining that's confused for unrequited love, eddie playing matchmaker, a huge bowl of angst with an eventual and fluffy happy ending

a/n: after reading like a bajillion fics of steve, I wanted to make one for myself out of boredom, and I tend to make people cry. and in honor of joshua bassett's new song, "smoke slow" that's officially out, I decided to do a fic of said song because the snippet that has been out since may has been stuck in my head on a loop so I wanted to do something with it. but go check out the song please, I am begging you. it is so good. also, the pronouns in the original song are gonna be switched in the story, but the original lyrics are there. so in the story it's from she to he (he as in steve) and he to she (she as in nancy) as the fic goes on so you'll understand. I don't think I need to explain myself further anyways so...

*not my gif btw*

she asks for a light

as our secrets spill on the window sill

we're buyin' more time

while we kill ourselves as we both inhale

you didn't exactly hate steve harrington, you could tolerate him to a certain extent. the boy wasn't entirely unbearable and was sometimes entertainment at points. you were dragged into the whole upside down stuff since 1983. and you weren't usually around steve very often when the world goes to shit to care about him.

the only time you formed some type of connection with him was at tina's halloween party you saw him while walking home, sulking on the sidewalk. and as someone who wasn't entirely heartless, especially after seeing the look in his eye that just made him look like he's on the verge of sobbing. you didn't need that tonight, cause you just wanted to have fun and act normal for once. sitting down beside him as the two of you talked it out, about how nancy wheeler called him bullshit and that their entire relationship is bullshit and then he just left.

"so you just left her at the party... drunk?" you looked shocked, still trying to process it, "dude, what she said wasn't cool but come on!"

he didn't say anything else on the matter, just wanted to forget everything, "do you have a light?" you nodded and went into your pocket, bringing out cigarettes and a lighter. the two of you just sat there, getting high off your asses and watch as the night went on. both of you had opened up about your own personal lives and finding some kind of understanding.

after that, it was now four in the morning and you took him home. after what had happened at the party, he needed to rest before being hit in the face with reality before school. then heading home and heading to bed yourself, then just wondering maybe there is a good side to steve harrington that you just haven't seen yet, and even some part of you wished to see more of a vulnerable side to steve.

makin' believe there's a future

is it naive to think we could work?

the night el had closed the gate back in eighty four, you and steve didn't talk at all after that just between the both of you, after that for at least a year. the only somewhat time you saw one another was at the snowball when he dropped of dustin. he saw you, who was currently chaperoning the dance with nancy and jonathan, but you were currently smoking a cigarette. you had noticed him staring at you and all you did was wave before he drove off.

during the summer, you didn't exactly had a proper conversation with him. he was with robin, dustin and erica at the mall where there was a secret russian base underneath. meanwhile, you were with mike, el, will, max, lucas, jonathan and nancy, trying to find out how to stop billy and the mind flayer.

he hadn't noticed the tiny little glances you gave him once you saw him again. you honestly had no idea why you couldn't stop staring at him, there was just something that just made you infatuated that you were not self aware of your current actions. even in jonathan's car as he drove you, steve, robin, nancy, will and lucas away from the mind flayer and as they all had overheard dustin and his girlfriend, suzie singing "neverending story" over the walkie talkie, your eyes were on him, at least 90% of the time. there were times that you couldn't while the rest of you were in peril that very same night.

then after the events of starcourt, you were imagining these dreams of your future. like, wanting to be successful and rich, wanting to be loved, maybe have a couple of kids or two. but in those dreams about that potential future, steve was there. what part did he play in it, who knows honestly? being your boyfriend, or a friend, or something, he was there but for what purpose? you two weren't that close, yet again, not even aware of the fact of how much you stared at him.

but honestly, he couldn't even be the only there (with 'there' being the future, your future). you both are apart of the same friend group, even though said friend group consists of mainly middle schoolers. you obviously didn't mind hanging around them of course, more fun to be around then most people your age.

the second it's out, then i lose her

we're already here, so one more won't hurt

it won't hurt

it's now the spring of 1986, and this was the year where you and steve had to be in close proximity of one another. and ever since spring break started, you saw more of that same steve from that halloween night, vulnerable and kind and sweet and caring. that even something in the air had developed some type of non-platonic feeling. but with this itching feeling that steve is still in love with nancy, you refused to say anything. in order to cope and try to forget for a few minutes via smoking as your mind had went away, it wouldn't hurt, would it?

but obviously that didn't last, because you were forcibly pulled back to reality. you guys did anything to stop vecna and clear eddie's name. eddie has been your friend since the start of your senior year, he taught you how to play guitar. it felt nice to be around a guy without it being awkward. you and eddie were strictly platonic, like what steve and robin are. so, of course you would do anything to make sure he's able to walk in broad daylight without people calling him a murderer and with the cops on his trail. you and dustin were the ones that were the most passionate on clearing eddie's name.

then, in the last couple of days, max got cursed by vecna and almost died, but another victim was added which was lucas' basketball teammate was the next one. and then here you currently are, in the upside down with steve, nancy, robin and eddie, after a bunch of vines had dragged you down the lake and into the upside down because you refused steve to put himself in danger (again). where steve, by no hesitation had jumped in after you first before the others.

you could not handle the steve and nancy flirting going on, so you needed some type of excuse to be away from that. and that you'd rather have someone shoot you in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly than having to watch the two of them give each other heart eyes the entire time. and even eddie looked like he was over it and he's new to the group. the sight of steve looking at her made you wanna vomit, but the munson had noticed your reaction to the other two and knew what to do.

the five of you were walking over to the wheeler residence so nancy can grab the guns she has in her bedroom. eddie walked right next to you and immediately started the conversation with, "you know, i'm not particularly an expert when it comes to romance cause i have never been in a relationship. but, i've seen the way you act around harrington."

you risen your eyebrow at the munson in confusion, "i have no idea what you're talking about..."

"come on, y/n!" he pats your shoulder, "whenever he says one word, your eyes are immediately on him and solely focus on whatever he says."

"that's because he's talking..." you looked even more confused at what eddie is trying to tell you. the munson rolled his eyes, "you practically looked in awe of him. whenever i talk, you don't look at me like that." he then snaps his fingers and points our, "oh, and another thing, the look of disgust on your face whenever him and nancy flirted."

"and that's also because one: she has a boyfriend, and honestly she honestly did not look comfortable at his advances and I do not blame her. and two--" you held up two fingers as you proceeded, "we're practically in hell. so maybe flirting while we have a high possibility of dying isn't exactly the best time."

"fair points." eddie agreed, "then, let's talk about how harrington feels about you."

"and what about it?"

"personally, i would have never jumped in, not under any normal circumstances. outside of d&d, i am no hero. i see danger and i just turn heel and run. or at least that's what i've learned about myself this week. give yourself a break, y/n. see? the only reason i came in here was 'cause harrington and the two ladies over there chit chatting came in straight after you. now, i was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind." he explained, "i just played follow the leader."

you had a fake smile on your face, "so what is your point? you're wondering why other people care about me?"

"if you let me get to the point--" eddie says, "but harrington right there, he didn't waste a second. not one second. he just dove right in. now, i don't know what you guys had before i came in, but if I were you, i'd confess my love while i still can. cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen."

"that is..." you had paused for a second, taking in a deep sigh, "the most cheeziest shit i have ever heard. and it's pretty damn stupid. steve is selfless and such, he would've dove in after anyone... like nancy."

"maybe..." the munson shrugs at you, "but it's just the worry and the concern on his face while you were dragged down the lake. honestly the look on his face didn't look like he'd have that reaction for anyone. not even nancy wheeler."

"so you're basically just finding this--" you proceeded to had put in quotes, "'love story' between steve and i, your entertainment?"

"yeah..." eddie had let out a chuckle, "watching you silently pin over him with those sad lost puppy dog eyes was tugging the heartstrings."

"glad you find my pain entertaining." you sarcastically responded, "but even if i had these 'feelings' for steve. what makes you one hundred percent sure he feels the same?"

"it's in the eyes." he points out, "sometimes the voice, but mainly the eyes. look, if you don't want him, you can let wheeler have a second shot with him." and that made you gag a little and eddie couldn't help but laugh, "i knew it, you are jealous of her."

"no, i'm not."

"i'll let you be in denial."

"i just don't wanna ruin everything." you had blurted out, and then further explained, "i confess how i feel, then he doesn't feel the same and our friendship is ruined. i would rather have him as a friend than not have him at all."

but all that we are is all that we'll ever be

'cause he's the one waitin' at home

finding out the upside down has been stuck in the day will went missing for over two years, the five of you had went over to eddie's trailer. since dustin had explained that there must be a gate at every murder sight. him, lucas, max and erica had found a way to get you and the others back to your world safely. and then a pit of rage and jealousy had pondered when you made it through and looked up to see only steve and nancy left. and with nancy now being possessed by vecna which left everyone in a fit of panic.

but suddenly, she was out of the trance and you saw steve cradling her face. and that made you wanna grab eddie's guitar and shove it down your throat. both of them made it back through as they all snuck over to max's trailer as nancy explained to what vecna saw her see. after that, and a lot of convincing to go back into the upside down but with protection and weapons. as well as max using herself as bait to make vecna's physical body defenseless so he can be killed with breaking a sweat. and then they had stolen an rv from one of the trailer park residents with steve driving and nancy in the passenger seat.

you couldn't help but roll your eyes but also stare at them with your head lying down on the small table with robin and eddie on both of your sides. god, why would you be jealous of nancy? she has boyfriend for crying out loud and you know how much she loves jonathan. you honestly didn't know if they were still going strong, but that wasn't any of your business. after hearing steve talk about wanting six kids and seeing the two looking at each other that made you want to die. but also another part of you thinks, god, poor nancy, hasn't she had been through enough? for a split second, you could tell that she didn't look exactly comfortable, especially that you can tell by that fake smile on her face cause that smile did not seem anywhere near genuine. personally, who could be comfortable in that situation? if steve is really hinting at her being in that dream (especially the way he was looking at her), then you felt more bad for nancy constantly being flirted by her ex boyfriend while he knows she's in a relationship and saying all of this to her, specifically out of anyone.

your mind just wondered off, after that. still really having the urge to open the door to the rv and jumping out while you still can, and hopefully get run over by a nearby car, but that's definitely not gonna happen.

it's just all that you and steve is, is probably what you were ever gonna be. best friends and completely platonic. even though what you felt for him, was not platonic at all, and everyone else knew it but steve and sometimes even yourself.

she holds my guitar as i pluck out a melody

there's only so far we can go

and then after dropping off max, lucas and erica at the creel house, you and the others were in the upside down. you went with steve, nancy and robin to go to the upside down version of the creel house to take out vecna, while dustin and eddie were being the distraction against the demobats.

and the walk, felt like it had been forever, your feet were hurting, robin ran off with nancy chasing after her. and now it was just you and steve alone. and god, did that terrify the fuck out of you. for a split second the thought of you being alone with steve with all of these confused feelings going on scared you more than vecna himself. but, you try and stay calm and started talking about robin being a super clutz and how it took her longer to walk then most babies. that had made steve brought up how when he was a baby, he used to crawl backwards.

"what? how, exactly?" you had looked entirely confused, but couldn't help but laugh. he laughed along with you, as he explained, "come on, it makes sense. you push to move, right?"

"no, no, it doesn't make sense whatsoever."

"well, it did to my tiny little harrington brain. that is, until i reversed my baby butt down a flight of stairs and thumped my head really good."

"that explains a lot." you snorted.

"yeah." he chuckles, "i think it kinda does. i think, like, right out of the gate, like, i'm super confident. but i'm also, like, an idiot. which is just... i mean, it's a brutal combination. but, i mean, the good news is, i get a big enough thump on my head, i can change, you know? i can learn. i can crawl forward." he had finished explaining, "honestly, thanks to nancy for giving my head the biggest thump of it's life two years ago, it's changed my life. i really needed it, and now i'm crawling forward. slowly."

you then had brought up to remind him, "also jonathan too, since he did beat the ever living shit out of you. it was satisfying to watch."

"that too." he then went on further, "for so long i was dwindling in the past over a girl who couldn't love me back. which is not her fault, people just can't control how they feel. i thought these things i've been feeling this past week have been about old flames that should've never died out. but honestly, realizing these past twenty four hours, there's a new flame in my life that i just never realized til now."

you had looked a tad bit confused, both of you stopping while you looked directly at him, "what are you saying exactly?"

"you heard the talk i had with nancy, right?" you shrugged and nodded, "all of it is true. every last word. for so long, i saw nancy in that dream with me, but i just don't see it anymore."

"you don't?"

"no, actually and surprisingly, i don't." he replied, "there was just this one important part that i had left out." you noticed him giving you this look as he said those two words that had rocked your world and that it changed your guys' friendship so much from that point on, "you're there."

oh.

you didn't know what to say. how can you respond to something like that? like you felt this relief on your shoulders that he wasn't talking about wanting a family with nancy straight to your face. he saw you. it was still something difficult to process it all. this was as hard as trying to teach steve how to play the guitar a few weeks ago cause he noticed it in your room and asked for you to teach him for fun. but instead of him plucking the strings of your guitar, it is the strings of your heart. with said heart on the verge of beating out of your chest and exploding everywhere.

literally, what can you say to that? like having a life long commitment with someone who imagines and wants six kids with you? you'd die on the spot.

but, just in time before you had the chance to pass out or something, robin and nancy had found you both. interrupted this moment you and steve have, and it just felt like another relief lifted from your shoulders. you were put on a pedestal and expected to have a response of some kind, at least one word. but said words were just too hard to form.

i'm next to you but i'll never be close

so take your time while you're mine and smoke slow

two days after everything that happened. eddie is dead, max is in a coma and you were still processing everything that had happened. like holy fucking shit, what just happened? and now, it's been two days, you're helping nancy clear out some of her old things to donate it to people that are in need of stuff ever since vecna's gates had opened. then, you all suddenly heard honking from a small distance with a pizza van showing up out of no where. and conveniently said pizza can had mike, will, jonathan, el, and some other guy coming out of it. you immediately had embraced el and will with dustin, "i've missed you kiddos so much! how are you, are you okay?"

you also had noticed el's hair is gone, and you just couldn't say anything cause you were in shock. all you did was just give her a meaningful kiss on the forehead. you then had walked over to mike and gave him a quick hug, "god, you leave for one week and everything goes to hell."

"same thing happened on our end too."

"well i'm glad you're okay." and then you walked in between jonathan and nancy's little reunion, "so glad so see you two back together. a major relief for me, actually." and then you gave jonathan a big hug, "you've grown out your hair, byers. i'm so close to grabbing some scissors and getting your old hair back."

"i'll think about it." he says, he let's go and the other dude who you didn't know walked over as jonathan introduced him, "this is my friend, argyle. he was honestly a big help on our end."

"sup." argyle says. you just nodded and shook his hand, "pleasure to meet you."

after the reunions and such, you, steve, robin and dustin went to the school and volunteered to help out the people that are in need. you were helping steve fold clothes as the both of you had noticed robin talking and smiling with her crush, vickie. and then you had broken this two day silence with steve after what he said, "about that night--"

"no, no, it's fine." he cuts you off, "i shouldn't have dropped that on you while we were on the possibility of not making it. it's not fair to you, and i was crossing a million boundaries. and i--" you stopped steve from rambling further by kissing him to shut up. you pulled away with a smile on your face, "i understand, really. because, i had imagined my own future for you apart of it for a while. in like, any possible way, you were there. maybe not the six kids in an rv, traveling across the country type suburban dream. but just, a nice one where we don't have to worry about demogorgan's, and the mind flayer, and vecna, and just the upside down in general." you stopped yourself for a second to catch your breath before proceeding, "i just personally didn't wanna say anything because i didn't wanna ruin this friendship we had built if you didn't feel the same. but hey, you do, and that's great! but, maybe we just take our time slow. cause i'm definitely not ready for six kids."

"i can see that." he smiled, "we don't have to have six kids if you're not comfortable with it. that's totally fine."

you returned a smile at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek and went back to folding clothes, "thank you." then you had also adding, "i'm glad i was there whole you were sulking on halloween night two years ago."

"i'm glad too."

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed! honestly, I wouldn't mind getting some stranger things requests for steve and other characters like nancy, jonathan, robin, max, lucas (I may need to make a new post on who you guys can requests from which fandoms again and a new masterlist but not at the moment)

[xoxo-teddybear]

What Have I Done? - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Physical injuries, cursing

Summary: An argument gone out of hand. Y/N just wanted Katsuki to be home more. They’re married and yet she barely sees him throughout the week. When she finally speaks on her hurt feelings, she gets a reaction she definitely wasn’t expecting.

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

A/N:.....I cried while writing this.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

‘He’s gone already. Again. Like always.’

Y/N had awoken to another empty bed. Her husband’s side of the mattress remained cold and empty. This wasn’t anything new. It’s been like this for the past few months. She would wake up alone, eat breakfast alone, spend her day alone, eat dinner alone, and go back to sleep at the end of the day...alone.

It’s not that Katsuki is intentionally ignoring Y/N. He loves her with his everything, he truly does! But villains never rest and neither does he. He’s so preoccupied with hero work that when he does get a day off, his friends drag him away to a bar or game night. Y/N always ran through his head but she had always been so understanding. And besides, she knows how busy the life of a pro is. She used to be one so she gets it. Right?

Wrong. She doesn’t get it. Because even when she was a pro, her and Katsuki always found time for each other. And ever since said man made her quit, claiming he could take care of both of them easily and he would feel better knowing his beloved is safe at home, they’ve seen each other less and less. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Y/N was willing to quit her dream because she found a new dream in Katsuki. She always imagined that being his little housewife would give them more time together but the opposite of that came true. Now she sits in the big empty house with no company for hours on end.

Her sadness builds up every day. She misses her husband. She tries to be an understanding wife but at this point, it’s like he’s not even trying to make an effort to see her. It’s like he’s settled to just coming home to her sleeping form and waking up to her in the exact same state, leaving before he can witness her do anything else. He should understand her though, no? I mean, she had brought it up to him in a very casual way and so he never took it seriously, but she’s mentioned it before. He should have a pretty vivid image of how shes been feeling. Right?

After 6 months of loneliness and being ‘Katsuki-deprived,’ Y/N made her move to speak to her husband about her feelings. She already imagined the outcome. An argument due to Katsuki’s brash behavior and her ‘never back down’ attitude, sad times bringing in the silent treatment for the two of you up until the both of you give in and forgive each other due to the love you have. Finally ending in a compromise. Y/N released a heavy breath as she looked at the time.

1:36 a.m. Just a few more minutes until Katsuki’s home.

—

He was pissed. 3 large scale bank robberies, 10 villain-wannabe fights, an argument with his publicist about his ‘out of line attitude,’ and Deku replacing him on a random ass billboard. The last detail wouldn’t have mattered if it was anybody else but the fact that it was Deku had him riled up. He just wanted to go home to a quiet house with his beautiful wife and admire her gorgeous, slumbering state. However that was not what he was greeted with.

Katsuki grumbled as he unlocked the front door and walked in. He noticed the lights were still on and saw Y/N still awake, seated on the couch. On any other day, he’d be elated to see his wife was still up. They’d talk and cuddle and go to sleep together. If he was lucky, they’d both make love until the sun rose. But tonight, that wouldn’t be happening. He wanted a quiet house with his sleeping wife. Not..whatever was about to happen. He sighed as he dropped his bag at the front door and sloppily placed his keys in the glass bowl near the door.

“What’re you doing up dumbass?” He asked as he walked to the kitchen, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He needed a drink.

“I was waiting for you, Katsuki. I just wanted to talk to you about something,” you said in a soft voice, hoping it would suppress his for sure incoming anger. Katsuki closed the fridge with a kick to the heavy door and chugged down a quarter of his drink.

“I’m not in the mood. Had a shitty day and I wanna sleep. Just go to bed.” He said sternly while trying to finish his beer as fast as he could.

“Don’t you think I would’ve done that hours ago? I wouldn’t have stayed up and waited for you if this wasn’t important. Please Katsuki, I really wanna talk.” Bakugou was beginning to grow annoyed. Why wouldn’t you just drop it already? He squeezed his bottle hard enough for it too crack before he spoke with a louder voice.

“Y/N! You’re not listening! I’m tired. I had a horrible day and I just want to sleep. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to stay up anymore, and I don’t want to listen to whatever bullshit you’re about to complain and bitch about like you always do!” He screamed. His words made your jaw drop.

“Not listening?! That’s all I do! All I do is listen to your every command so that you come home happy-“

“Well it looks like you failed today!” He said, cutting you off.

“Quit interrupting! And what was it that you said?! All I do is bitch and complain?! I’m trying to talk to you about something serious here Katsuki!” You pleaded, still hoping he would give in and listen. And he did...just not in the way you’d expect.

“Fine then! If this’ll get you to quit being an annoying ass waste of time, then speak! Talk! What the hell do you want?!” He asked, screaming at you, furious at all the dramatics you’ve brought up in one night.

His words kind of stung. ‘Annoying ass? Waste of time? Is this what he thinks I am?’ You grew silent at his insults and Katsuki seethed even more.

“Oh what? I scream at you and you bitch up? Toughen up Y/N, jeez. Quit acting like a baby! Tell me what you wanted to say!” He yelled.

“.......I just....I just wanted you to spend some time with me. .....Be home more.” You said in a quiet and broken voice. You looked down to the now very interesting floor as you played with your hands.

“Seriously? This shit again? I’m a pro-hero, Y/N! I’m busy! I’m not gonna drop saving lives just because your brat ass wants someone to notice you! Since when were you such an attention whore?” He asked while rolling his neck to relieve his strained muscles. Your eyes widen at the ground due to his words and your head snapped back up to face him.

“A-attention whore? I-...I just want my husband to stop working so much. I don’t know..maybe have a day off or two!” She said with a crinkled nose as you screamed.

“I do have days off, Moron. It’s why I’m not overworked, ever thought about that?!” He screamed back.

“And you spend those days off away from me! I’m not trying to act like the world revolves around me but I would hope my own husband would spend a day with me instead of his friends that he ALWAYS sees because you ALL WORK TOGETHER!” You argued. You made a valid point and even Katsuki knew that, but he was too stubborn to admit defeat. He was still tired but he had enough energy to put you back in your place. His eyes popped as a vein grew on his neck.

“Well- WELL YOU’RE ONCE AGAIN JUST BITCHING AND COMPLAINING LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO! I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’RE SO UPSET!” He screamed.

“Don’t understand?! You know what? I know you don’t because you never listen to-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, I WASNT DONE TALKING! ALL YOU DO IS SIT AROUND THE HOUSE, LAZING AROUND, DOING NOTHING BUT TRY TO ARGUE WITH-“

“LAZING AROUND?!” You shouted in disbelief. “WHO MAKES YOUR MEAL PREP THE NIGHT BEFORE SO YOU CAN ENJOY IT AT WORK AND IN THE MORNING? WHO CLEANS THE ENTIRE HOUSE EVERYDAY WHILE YOU’RE GONE? WHO MAKES SURE YOU HAVE A FULL FRIDGE, CLEAN HOUSE, GOOD FOOD, AND A HAPPY LIFE? ME KATSUKI! ME!”

“Happy life? DO I LOOK HAPPY TO YOU BITCH?! NEWSFLASH, IM NOT! SO CONGRATS Y/N! YOU FAILED ONCE AGAIN! AND WHO GIVES A FUCK IF YOU PLAY MAID WHILE IM AWAY?! IM BUSY SAVING THE FUCKING WORLD! THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS BE A GOOD WIFE SINCE YOU CANT EVEN BE A FUCKING PRO ANYMORE!” He insulted again.

“because of FUCKING YOU!” You argued once more.

“I DID IT FOR YOU!” He said while throwing his bottle to the wall, causing it to shatter. “I DO EVERYTHING FOR YOUR UNGRATEFUL BITCH ASS! I PAY THE BILLS! I BRING HOME THE CASH! I GIVE YOU THE MONEY TO BUY ALL THE FUCKING FOOD, CLOTHES, AND ANY OTHER STUPID SHIT YOU WANT! AND ON TOP OF THAT, I STUFF YOUR STUPID CUNT TO PLEASURE YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS. AT THIS POINT, YOU’RE JUST A WALKING HOLE FOR ME TO USE!”

His words hurt. They broke your heart. Did he really feel this way? If so, why was he even with you anymore. You notice a smirk grow on his face at your bewildered state. He looked as if he just won something. However, the smirk dropped into a scowl once he saw your eyes begin to pool with tears.

“Oh great! Cry! Go ahead! Just shed your fucking tears like you always do! I’m going to bed! Come join me when you’re done being an annoying bitch.” He said and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he began to walk away. You didn’t want the conversation to go this way and there was no conclusion. You needed this to be resolved now. You just wanted your husband back. You reached out to stop him from walking but the unforeseen happened.

“Katsuki..don’t walk away from thi-“

“DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME!” He said and smacked your arms away with a burning palm. Without realizing, Katsuki began to spark his quirk and so when he went in to push you away, he burned your forearm.

A loud blast and smoke filled the room and your screams of pain invaded his ears. The sound made a shocked face grow on him as he quickly turned to see the damaged he had caused. His heart sank as he saw you crying while holding your burnt arm with your other hand. You were slightly hunched over in pain as you took notice of the damage that had been caused. That he caused.

“Y/N!” Bakugou softly shouted as he ran to you. He wanted to help but before he could even lay a finger on you, you flinched. The action caused him to hesitate and hold himself back. He ran to the kitchen sink to get a cold rag and he brought it back to you. “Baby! I am so sor-“

You pushed him away and off of you as you quickly walked to your bedroom with a shadow casted over your eyes. Tears still flowed down your cheeks as sniffles could be heard from your cherry red nose. Katsuki couldn’t believe what he just did and ran to follow you.

“Y/N! Please listen! I didn’t mean it! I don’t know how that happened Teddy Bear but I swear I didn’t mean it! I swear I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I said! I’m sor-“

*SLAM* *click!*

Katsuki realized he followed you out the kitchen, through the living room, up the stairs, and to the entrance of the master bedroom you both shared before you slammed the door and locked it right in his face.

“Baby! Please open the door!” He said while knocking in a very rushed manner. He wanted nothing more than to help you and treat the damage he caused to his beloved wife. He had royally fucked up. He began turning and jiggling the locked knob in an attempt to get it open but failed. “Please Y/N! I have to take care of you and that burn. I’m so sorry but please let me in!”

On the other side of the door, you pressed your back against it as you held in your sobs and slid to the bottom. You pulled both lips in to conceal your voice while you held your wrist to examine the burn on your arm. It was so bad. Your skin turned an angry shade of red as it blistered and bled. You were dripping blood all over your carpeted floor and so you ran to the master bathroom in the bed room.

You turned on the sink and placed your forearm under the cold, running water. The water soothed it a bit but it wasn’t enough to cover the pain. You turned off the sink and grabbed a hand rag as you patted down on your wound. You took out the first aid kit and cared for yourself. You had to take the alcohol to clean it and sucked in a breath before you poured the solution over the burn. You screamed as it seemed to have hurt 10x more. After dabbing cotton over it, you wrapped it in bandages and took a breath of relief.

‘What just happened?’ You thought to yourself.

The entire time, Katsuki was still begging for you to open up. He heard your scream and grew frantic. He banged on the door and cried for you, still hoping, praying, that you would let him in. When nothing happened, he resorted back to calling out for you but to no avail.

About an hour went by and it was almost 4 in the morning. You sat on the bed with your arms holding your knees to your chest. You stared at the wrap as the memories of what went down tonight flashed through your brain.

‘Waste of time...brat ass...attention whore...ungrateful...annoying bitch.’

His words struck you right in your heart. Cruel thoughts began to fill your head.

‘He doesn’t love me. He hates me. I’m worthless.’ Your thoughts would’ve continued until a quiet knock snapped you out of you mind.

“....Y/N?...Baby?” It was Katsuki of course, but a softer version of him. A broken one. “..I don’t know if you’re listening or if you’re awake..but I need you to know that I’m so so sorry.” It was easy to hear his muffled and staggered voice that exposed his tears and sobs. “If I could turn back time right now, I would do tonight all over again, I swear. I would’ve came home and listened to you. And we could’ve talked things out. We would’ve came out of this problem being a stronger couple than we were before...because that’s what we always do. We always make it out of the dark together..because we’re a team..and I need you. .....Please...please don’t leave me Y/N. I love you so much. ‘M so sorry that I hurt you..that I burned you..that I’m such a terrible husband. But I promise you I’ll fix everything in the morning...................Teddy Bear?”

He didn’t know it, but you were listening. You heard every word but refrained from speaking. You knew that the second you did, you’d break down and go crawling back to him....but you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to leave. He physically burned you and you wanted to leave. You were going to sleep for a few hours, and when you would awaken, you would pack a bag and leave. And so, you began your plan and tried to get some sleep as tear streaks marked your face. It would all be over soon.

You woke up to the morning sun.

6:50 a.m.

You rose out of bed and rubbed at your puffy eyes. You quietly got ready in the bathroom and applied the slightest bit of makeup to look more presentable. You took out a pair of shoes and tossed them to the center of the room. You were in your closet and pulled out a bag. You stuffed it full of a few clothes for you to wear, you couldn’t stay here. Not after what he did. You fought through the pain as you pulled on your jacket and placed your shoes on. You wiped your tears as you picked up your purse and got ready to leave. You were going to stay in a hotel. Didnt matter where or how expensive. You just needed to get away.

Finally, you walked to the exit of the bedroom. You took a breath before you slowly turned the knob and was greeted with the sight of a sleeping Bakugou. He had slept in the hallway in front of the bedroom, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. His knees were scrunched up with his arms resting there to be used as a pillow. He layed his head atop of his arms and as you looked down into his hands, you saw the rag. The exact rag from the argument. The rag that he attempted to use to help you. Little did you know, Bakugou hadn’t planned on getting rid of it until you let him use it to help you. He wanted nothing more than to fix his mistake and cater to you and your wound.

You shook your head as you felt tears began to fill your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You took a step and sadly awoken the exact man you were trying to avoid. Bakugou had quickly woken up when he heard the slightest noise and was blessed with the beauty that is you. He looked up at you with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Y/N...” was what he whispered before he quickly got up to run to you.

“Y/N!” He ecstatically said with a hint of relief. He was about to wrap him arms around you but you kept a hand at his chest to keep him at bay. “Baby?...”

Bakugou looked at you with hurt and confused eyes when you didn’t welcome his embrace. Even when you were mad at him, you still allowed him to hold you so what gives? He looked at you and your attire. He noticed your jacket and shoes and saw you holding a bag. “W-what are you doing?”

You walked away from him but he snatched your wrist to make you turn to face him. “Y/N! What’s going on?!” He frantically asked with crazed eyes. You snatched your wrist back and ran down the stairs and he copied your actions. He followed you into the living room until he grabbed your wrist once more. You tried to pull away again but found it harder because this time, he gripped it tight.

“W-where are you going baby?”

“Dont call me that.”

“What? Why? Baby, please tell me what’s going on.” He begged as he squeezed your wrist.

“What’s going on? Are you serious? What does it look like? I’m leaving!” Bakugou’s eyes went wide once more and shook his head.

“N-no! No, why!?”

“Why?! Look at my arm!” You screamed.

“I know! I know and I’m so sorry! But..but you don’t have to go! I can fix you up, I’ll take you to recovery girl, I will bring you to the best hospitals around the world to fix that for you! Just please don’t go!” He bargained and offered everything but you weren’t budging.

“It’s not just the burn Bakugou.” You deadpanned with a nonchalant face. His heart felt heavy after hearing your voice refer to him with his family name.

“..I-it’s Katsuki! Your Katsuki! It’s Suki, baby please!” Bakugou stepped closer as he cried once more but you backed away again. His hold on your wrist still strong as his fingers played with the ring on your hand, trying to calm himself down and remind himself that you are still his wife.

You shook your head at his pleading. “Bakugou. You burned me. But not only that, you’ve neglected me for months.”

“I know that! And I’m sorry! I will spend just as much time off of work to make it up to you, I swear I will, I promise!” He once again bargained.

“It’s too late.”

“No it’s not, please, it can’t be!”

“It is Bakugou-“

“KATSUKI! ....please...please don’t call me that. I’m your Katsuki,” he said with a whimpering voice. At this point you felt the tears come through, but you still didn’t allow them to fall.

“Katsuki...I can’t stay here. Too much damage has been done.” You said with a soft voice. Bakugou continued to shake his head ‘no,’ but you already made up your mind. You used your wind quirk in your hand and blew his grip off your wrist. You took the quick opportunity to walk to the door but Bakugou grabbed your bag off your shoulder in a childish panic and attempt to get you to stay.

“Hey!-“

“Please Y-Y/N! Please don’t leave me! I- I know I’ve been a terrible husband! I’m sorry! B-But I promise I’ll do better. I’ll stay at home more, I’ll spend more time with you, Please!”

“Katsu-“

“I’ll buy you whatever you want! I’ll get you all the expensive brands, I’ll find you all the best jewelry, I’ll give you all the money in the world! I’ll give you the whole world! Please stay! I love you so much Y/N!”

“Katsuki, give me back my bag,” you tried to reach for it but Bakugou kept it away from you and pulled you in with one arm and held you in a tight embrace as he cried on your shoulder.

“Please...you can’t do this to me. I need you. I love you! I’ll do better! I’ll be a better husband, I swear..just please don’t go.” He softly spoke with a broken voice and soft hiccups. It was wrong for you to do this, but you sighed and pretended to forgive him as you wrapped your arms around his torso. You hugged him tight and he fell for it as he openly sobbed now. His other arm that held your bag came to wrap around your waist but before it could, you snatched the bag out of his hold and pushed him away. You ran to the door and held a tight grip on the knob as you picked up your car keys. You saw Katsuki attempt to run back to you but you created a strong barrier of wind to protect you. “IM SORRY Y/N! PLEASE DONT!”

You took off your ring and tossed it to him through the barrier. He was quick to catch it and hold it right in fear of losing it. He had to find a way to get it back on your finger. “No..baby...Teddy Bear please!”

“....I’ll send you the divorce papers....Goodbye Katsuki.”

With that, you walked out of the door, still keeping the barrier alive. Once you started the car, you dispersed of the wind and Bakugou opened the door and ran to your car.

“Y/N wait! Please!” He cried out but he was too late. You pulled out of the driveway and drove off quickly down the street. He watched your car go as he began hyperventilating and tugging at his ash blonde locks. He ran back inside the house with your ring in hand as he looked for his phone. He found it on the kitchen island and quickly dialed your number. Of course, it went straight to voicemail but that didn’t stop him from calling about 50x more.

“This-...this has to be some stupid dream. A fucking nightmare...” he said as he tried to hide in denial. “Yeah...a nightmare. This is what it is...I’ll..I’ll wake up soon and she’ll be by my side in the morning...sleeping peacefully...and I’ll take the whole week off and spend it with her. She won’t be mad, we’ll be happy like we always are. S-She won’t leave me.”

Bakugou had an insane smile on his face with eyes of distraught on him. He clumsily made his way back to his bedroom where he flopped onto the large mattress and tried to get some sleep. He would sleep the whole day away if it meant you’d still be by his side when he woke up. The ring you abandoned was held tight in the palm of his hand as he held it close to his chest. His sobs overcame him but did aid in his journey to slumber. Eventually, he knocked out and a smile of bliss adorned his face as he assumed you would still be there in the morning.....oh how wrong he was.

The very next day, he woke up at 5:30 like he always did and quickly looked to your side of the bed. It was cold and empty. He was lonely. The exact same feeling you got everytime you woke up without seeing him for the past 6 months.

6 months. You’ve been married for 4 years and together for 8. Out of those 8 years, Bakugou spent 6 months neglecting you..and now...he lost you.

He stared at the empty space and bawled his eyes out like a baby as he screamed. He got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Maybe you were cooking breakfast! You weren’t. Kitchen was empty. He ran to the living room! Maybe you were just watching some TV and reading a book, looking all cute and domesticated like you usually did. No, you weren’t there either. Bakugou checked every room in the house and when he couldn’t find you..he snapped.

His heart beated at a rapid pace as he trashed the entire house. Breaking windows, flipping desks, smashing furniture. He used his quirk to create blasts and burn marks into the walls and floors of the house. He did everything to get his frustrations out. The entire time he shouted and cried as rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks.

When he was done, he sat in the middle of the destroyed living room, laying his back against the flipped couch. He sat with his knees scrunched up as he hunched over, staring at the ground. His nose and eyes and basically his entire face grew puffy and red. His hair was a mess and so was he. Silent tears continued to drop, but his throat was too dry and hurt far too much for him to make anymore noise. However, he did fight through the pain to say one final thing:

“What have I done?”

A/N: hi cubsss! So a lot of you may know that my very first post, writing piece, and short story (He’s Lost) was created around angst, a breakup, and the fact that the triggering point was Bakugou physically hurting Y/N. I’ve been thinking about it and I HATE MY WRITING IN THE FIRST POST! It was terrible! Why tf did y’all like it so much?😭 And so, I’ve created a new piece revolving around the same elements, sorta as a way to check my progress. I hope you enjoyed!

ALSO!!! If you guys like this enough, I’m willing to turn it into a small yandere short story if you Cubs are down for that. Let me know and I’ll make it happen! Love you Cubs! See you next time🧸💗

[tiedyemillenialbullshit]

Nightmare

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Avenger Reader Word Count: 3,431 Summary: Your best friend finally comes to visit the compound after you join the Avengers. What starts out as a fun night out, quickly turns dire for you and Bucky. Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Feelings, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs, PTSD/Nightmares, swearing

“AHHHH Y/N!!” You hear her before you see your best friend running towards you, not a care in the world that your entire team has also turned around to watch you two galavant towards each other like long lost sisters.

You catch Sarah in your arms and spin her around.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re FINALLY HERE! And you’re early! Holy shit like I can’t believe you’re finally here in New York!! Let me introduce you to the team!” You grab her arm after she starts to show hesitance in meeting the Avengers all at once.

“Are you sure they have time? I don’t want to be a bother,” she says sheepishly.

“Oh my god Sarah, I talk about you all the time! They’re just as excited to meet you, come on.” You both walk towards the team still staring at you both near the entrance to the compound doing a quick debrief of a not-so-successful mission the day before.

“Guys, this is Sarah. Sarah this is-“ she cuts you off. “I know who you guys all are. It’s so nice to meet you! I’ll stay out of the way, I promise.” Everyone grins and introduces themselves to your best friend.

Nat smiles at you both, “On the contrary, you’re coming out with us tonight! No if’s, and’s or but’s”

Sarah seems to suddenly catch a second wind from her long flight and lets out a squeal of excitement.

You’re the newest to the “official” team, even though Steve and Fury had been trying to recruit you for years. You didn’t like the idea of the world knowing about your skill set and preferred to live a quiet life back in California. Ever since moving here, you’ve felt like maybe you weren’t home yet. Everyone was so nice and welcoming, but you missed your little house hidden in the outskirts of the National Parks in California. You missed the sun, the familiar smell of your patch of paradise and the general sense of room back home. Most importantly, you missed Sarah.

You were reluctant to invite her out to New York at first, but now that things seemed to be going smoothly, you sent for her via a car and private jet thanks to one Mr. Tony Stark. He was more than happy to help you out given your fresh and maybe sometimes bumpy arrival to the Avengers.

As everyone filed inside to break away before the evening festivities, Bucky caught your arm.

After holding you back for a second he said, “Hey, I can totally hang back tonight if you’d rather just be with Sarah and the team.”

You realize what he’s getting at. He also has some lack of feeling settled at the compound. It was something you bonded over when you first arrived. You both had similar pasts, even though they were at the same time lightyears apart.

“Buck, no. I think we’re all going out to Bleaker’s tonight! What’s a better way to get to know the team than bowling, beer, smoking inside, beer, old arcade games, more beer and maybe dancing?!”

Bucky gives you a quick glare out the corner of his eye before wrapping his metal arm around your shoulders to lead you inside after everyone.

“Fiiiiiiine, but I can’t promise I’ll behave.” You giggle, but suddenly feel a couple sets of eyes on you.

“And what do we have here?,” Tony asks with a smirk across his mouth. Sarah seems to be in the middle of an engaging conversation with Steve, so you don’t seem to have an easy out of this encounter. Bucky quickly drops his arm and steps a foot away from you.

“Uh, nothing. Y/N just seemed like maybe she wasn’t feeling well.”

“But I’m fine so here we are - have you seen Sam? Nat? Wanda? I told them we should be ready in a few hours and I jus-“

“Oh for Christ’s sake guys, your secret is safe with me,” Tony winks at you knowingly. You decide to take that as the end of the conversation and rush over to join Sarah.

“So! You have muscles.” Sarah says clearly at a loss of words looking at Steve in a tight shirt.

You and Bucky share a giggle, but pull Sarah away and save her from further embarrassment.

“What the fuck did I just say?” Sarah is about as red as a tomato as you drag her upstairs away from the awkward encounter. Steve looked a little flustered as well, which you file away in the back of your brain.

“Who cares! Let’s catch up and get ready for tonight.” Sarah is your best friend for a reason. Even though it had been 6 months since you last saw each other, it was like it was yesterday. You two spend the next few hours catching up, gossiping about each other’s families, friends, ex-boyfriends, etc.

“So! How are we doing in the boi department?” You turn around and face Sarah at the inquisitive tone in her question.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m good, I’m… I’m doing great, I mean yeah I’m good. WHY?” You’re stuttering and you don’t even care it’s obvious you’re blushing.

“Oh, you know. I mean, I’ve only recently met a few super soldiers, but I do think I can tell the there’s a spark between one and someone else.” Sarah so wants you to spill the tea but you promised Bucky you’d keep it quiet.

“Let’s just say things are developing and whatever you’d like to take from that you may.” You both launch into a giggle fit of her guessing and you denying certain aspects of Bucky Barnes.

When Wanda wanders into your room a few hours later, she starts laughing at what she sees. “You know you two are wearing like the same thing, right?” Exchanging confused looks at each other, you reply with a “AND?!”

Sam follows in with a smirk of his own. You’re bracing for his jokes but instead says “damn, OKAY! Everyone’s looking sharp tonight. Y/N, have you seen our bionic man around? Is he coming? He better come out tonight or I swear to…”

After Sam leaves to go find Bucky, the three of you wander down to find Nat and start the evening off with a shot or two. You aren’t much of a drinker, so one is enough for you. You much rather enjoy the company of your friend Mary Jane.

The team is getting silly with each other in the kitchen and quickly the room is filled with people yelling at each other to pregame harder, laughing when Nat’s little sister challenges Sam to a chugging contest and wins.

You feel a large hand at the small of your back. You can smell his cologne and know who it is immediately.

“Well don’t you look dashing tonight Sargent Barnes.” You lean in on impulse but stop yourself just as the girls turn around to see who you’re talking to.

“I was just going to say the same thing to you, sweets.” He mumbles in your ear before removing his hand and walking over to Sam.

The alcohol decides to hit you then, leaving you feeling empty that he’s not standing next to you anymore. Neither of you had wanted to have the “conversation” but you knew you were head over heels for him.

“CABS ARE HERE” screams Sam.

“Sam. For the love of God, stop watching Jersey Shore.” Natasha jokes to him.

At the same time Steve screams, “I understood that reference!” Eye rolls are exchanged as you all make your way outside.

The atmosphere is buzzing and you’re so excited to not just be out with your team, but to also have the only bit of family you had with you as well. You finally felt at home, at peace, and were ready for a fun night out.

Bleaker’s is one of those hole-in-the-wall dive bars that from the outside seems like a hard pass, but once you’re in, there’s no other place you’d rather spend a Saturday night. It’s true it started as a bowling alley in the 60’s. That still remains. What’s newer is the arcade in the back, where the old salon used to be. Jimmy bought the space next door, blew out the wall and filled it with arcade games that sometimes work and sometimes eat your money.

After years of being regular patrons, he knows your team well. The minute you walk in, he starts up all your favorite drinks.

“Ah! My best customers! I had a feeling I’d be seeing Earth’s mightiest heroes tonight.” You line up at the bar for whatever Jimmy decides you’re drinking tonight.

“Ah yes, two vodka on the rocks for my little Russian assassins. Sam here’s your vodka red bull which I don’t think you need, but here we are. Steve! Your drink of choice: an Old Style. Wanda, a cosmo for my favorite witch. And who do we have here, Y/N?”

You’re already both in hysterics at the old man behind the bar giving everybody a hard time. “Jimmy, this is my best friend Sarah. She’s visiting from California for a few days.”

“And whatever the lady wants can be put on my tab…” Steve butts in. Sarah immediately turns red but says “well in that case I’ll have vodka soda with lime please!”

Bucky has come up behind you and now you’re both laughing and watching the two of them stare at each other like no one else is in the room.

“Oh no, what did you do Y/N?”

“Let it play out, he’s not completely tripping over his words yet, maybe he’ll finally land a good girl.” You hush to Bucky.

Jimmy stares as well in amusement. “And you two? Your usual?”

“Yes’sir!” You shout over the growing music. Jimmy hands you each a jack and Diet Coke. You tell yourself it’s okay because it’s diet, but you know that’s a bunch of bullshit.

The other great thing about Bleaker’s? The dance floor downstairs. You always joke around that it seems like a nightclub that never closes in Amsterdam or something, but you’re serious. It could be 3 pm and sunny and you’d never know. It’s in the basement, it's always dark and the music is almost always too loud.

Usually that would gross you all out, but the energy tonight is pushing you all downstairs.

You reach back and grab Bucky’s hand not really caring who sees. It’s been months of sneaking around and either everyone knows and is playing it off like they don't or you’re really good at hiding it. Regardless, you’re over hiding. Maybe showing a little PDA tonight will get him out of his shell.

Sarah and Steve are no where in sight, assuming they’re ahead of you, you follow the team downstairs.

Minutes turn into hours. Everyone is dancing, laughing, sweating, screaming the lyrics to every song, and for a little while you can forget you’re a group of superheroes, and can just be normal 30-something year-olds.

You mostly dance with Bucky and quickly realize he’s a better dancer than you thought he would be. Those moves from the 1940’s must still be relevant in some way today, because the way he's grinding up on you and not caring if anyone sees just does something to you.

You work the room, finding Sarah, Wanda, Nat, even Steve for a song before you realize you don't see Bucky. You give it a few minutes thinking maybe he is in the bathroom. After 15 minutes though, you grab Steve’s attention and motion for him to check the bathroom while you check outside.

You race to the alley where you find Jimmy on a smoke break. “Hey Jimmy, have you seen Bucky? I can’t find him.”

“Oh yeah, doll, he took off in a cab about a half hour ago. Looked real flustered, but I didn’t want to press.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You thought you felt his mood shift about an hour ago, he was becoming stiff and quiet. You thought maybe he was just drinking a lot but now you’re realizing the loud music, strobe lights and base must have been triggering him.

“Ugh I’m such a bitch,” you huff as you send Steve a S.O.S text.

You: Hey, Jimmy said he just left. I'm sure he's heading home. I'm going to go find him.

Sire Captain Rogers: Go ahead. I think Sarah and I can find something to do while you find Buck. ;)

You: Yeah I’m sure you can.

You: BEHAVE. She’s my best friend.

Sire Captain Rogers: I know Y/N, don’t worry about us. Let me know when you find him.

You lock your phone and hop in a cab back to the compound.

No one is up or around when you enter through the front. The kitchen has been cleaned up, the dishes done. Probably thanks to THURSDAY, Tony’s beta bot for “cleaning up after you assholes trash the place.”

You smirk and head for the elevators. Heading straight to Bucky’s room, you can tell his light is on but something seems off. You don’t like to use your powers on friends or in the compound, but you close your eyes and reach out with your mind to find his aura. Your eyes snap open. You don’t sense him, you just see red.

Taking this as a good excuse to break into a friend’s room, you burst into the room to find it in disarray. Everything is toppled over, broken glass is on the floor, the bathroom light is on, but all you can see is his blood on the door and the floor. You’re panicked, trying to piece together what happened.

Again, you close your eyes and reach out for the familiar energy of Bucky. You find him in your room on the floor.

“What the fuck?,” you mumble and sprint up the stairs to your apartment. You shoot Steve a text on your way up.

You: Found him, looks like a bad one. I’ll let you know if I need you.

Sir Captain Rogers: Thanks Y/N. I’m just a call away, let me know if you need anything. Night.

Upon entering, you sense he’s in distress. His heart rate is elevated, he’s incredibly sweaty and is panting like a dog.

“Bucky? Buck, it’s me, it’s Y/N.”

Bucky stirs and jumps into a defensive standing position quicker than you can blink. You flip the lights on with a “BABE. Baaabe, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re in the compound. You had a nightmare.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide and alarmed, but you can tell the moment he recognizes you.

Rushing over to you, he takes you into a big hug. “Oh my god. What happened? Are you okay, did I hurt you?”

“No Bucky, no I just found you a minute ago. You had another bad one, what do you need me to do right now for you?”

Bucky stands back and rubs his swollen eyes. “I need to shower, can you help me?”

Typically, this is where it gets exciting, but you knew what he means. Water grounds him. He doesn’t feel like he’s falling in water. It helps him visualize the stress washing off of him.

You help him strip and get in the shower, but before you can even take his jeans off, he jumps in and pulls you in with him. You realize how desperate he is for whatever he’s feeling to pass and your heart sinks.

You’re both standing there, almost fully clothed holding each other. This is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.

“I’m so sorry if I ruined your night, Y/N. The base sounded like the train, the lights looked like the machine they used on me, what the fuck.”

You aren’t sure what to do so you decide to sit on the ground and pull him down with you. You position yourself behind him so his back is in your chest. Even though he’s so much larger than you, he sinks down enough for you to reach over his shoulders and hold him.

“It’s okay Barnes, just breathe with me. You’re safe. You’re with me, and we’re home. Nobody is going to touch you. I’ve got you, you won’t fall.”

You take in deep breaths so he can match your breathing.

After about 45 minutes, the hot water is out in the tank. Bucky sits forward and turns towards you. You want him to lead right now, so you don’t say anything. Neither does he, but the look in his eyes are telling you something about tonight is different.

With a soft smile on your lips, you cup his cheek until he is really looking at you. “Hun, let’s go lay down, ya? Let me help get you dried off.” Bucky hates when you fuss over him, so when he doesn’t argue, you know to be extra gentle with him.

After getting him up and out of the shower, you think skin-to-skin contact doesn’t seem sexual right now, it feels intimate in a grounding sense, and you know that’s exactly what he needs right now. Bucky seems dazed, almost like he got hit too hard in the head. You yourself are of course a tad over-served, and are quickly realizing the adrenaline of this entire situation is rubbing off.

You get Bucky into bed and turn to make sure his phone is plugged in and that he has a glass of water, but he grabs your wrist before you can move away. “Just leave it, it’s fine.”

“Buck, just let me-“ he grabs your wrist harder.

“Y/N. Please just stay here. Please.”

The entire time you’ve been together, he’s done a lot of things but begging you for anything is not one of them. Suddenly the phone and whatever hell else you were doing doesn’t seem important anymore.

You climb into your usual spot next to him and decide maybe you’ll try to get him to open up. The moment the back of your head hits the pillow, Bucky is facing you. His pleading eyes seem like they want to tell you everything that’s going on in his head, but you know pushing him to talk will just make the nightmares come flooding back too soon.

Instead, you decide to lay on your back and pull him to lay on your chest.

“Just listen to my heart beat, Bucky.” You hear him take a deep breath and settle into your chest.

You start and stop yourself from trying to say something comforting. You’re terrified to say the wrong thing at such a crucial moment. Typically these bad episodes are reserved for a Steve house call. You realize as he’s settling into a comfortable position that he hasn’t asked you to call Steve yet. Bucky trusts you in a way you didn’t realize until now.

You don’t know when, but you start humming the first calming song that comes in your head.

I’ll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through

Bucky picks his head up to look at you. Oh fuck.

“Where did you hear that song?,” he says to you with shiny eyes.

“You sing it all the time when you’re concentrating. I looked it up and added it to my ‘bath time/relax’ playlist. I didn't know Billie Holliday was a favorite of yours."

Bucky was looking at you like maybe this was the first time he saw you, like really saw you. “My mom used to sing that around the house when she was missing my dad.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I can hum a diff-“ you’re cut off with the most searing kiss Bucky has ever given you. He’s crying when he pulls back to look at you again. “Will you keep singing it?”

In that small cafe The park across the way The children's carousel That chestnut tree, the wishing well

By the time you finish the second verse, he has physically relaxed in your arms. You continue rubbing your hand up and down his back and shoulder, stopping to play with his long hair every once in a while.

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In every thing that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

“I forgot how much I love hearing this song sung around me.” Bucky whispers so quietly you almost miss it.

I'll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you…

You stop your caressing when you feel him sit up on one arm.

He leans down to kiss you but stops short to whisper “I love you Y/N.” You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his shoulders, and when you say “I love you too, Bucky,” you’ve never been more sure of something in your life.