#what have i done to deserve to fall for only characters with the stupidest and hardest to replicate features

[invinciblerodent]

i kinda love just how often art looks like absolute hot garbage from a dumpster until it's like... 90% done. because after spending so long hating it, and pushing yourself to trust the process, and muscling through the insecurity and discomfort, that moment when it finally COMES TOGETHER??? is so bloody glorious, it makes all of that itching feeling so worth it.

like this applies to just about anything I think (maybe more to things with a visual- or tactile component, but I can see it for written media as well) but right now it's is specifically about an amigurumi doll i'm making-- and for like the last three hours i've been working on it, it's been looking like a horrible little old man, a nightmare-realm chibi-version of Geri-from-Pixar-fame, and the second i placed the first little chunk of hair over the forehead, it became instantly adorable, and I can't wait to show off the finished thing ❤️

[lovemyromance]

Antis: Elriel can't be endgame because SJM always gaslights us and tries to make us think a couple is endgame when they're not!!

Okay... so ... is any couple safe then? Is Feysand safe? Is Nessian safe? Who's to say Rowaelin will not break up some day? Who's to say Bryce won't leave Hunt for some random character that hasn't been introduced yet in CC4?

SJM is not writing these couples for the sole purpose of trying to gaslight her readers. Not to mention - ACOTAR IS NOT TOG OR CC.

SJM has said multiple times, the spinoffs will feature dual POV and ONE couple.

Please tell me how we go from Elain ignoring Lucien, to getting with Azriel, to leaving Azriel, and falling in love and accepting the mating bond with Lucien all in one book.

Please explain how we go from Azriel pining after Elain, getting angry over Rhys forbidding him away from her, to ignoring Elain and falling for Gwyn, discovering Gwyn is his mate (lol), and accepting the mating bond with her?

Just... use your brains for once, my friends. The excuses for why Elriel can't be endgame are laughable at best, and downright misogynistic at worst. Like are you really telling me:

Elriel can't be together because his shadows don't like her and they disappear - even though his shadows disappear around the entire IC whenever he's happy or comfortable? Even though they tell him when she's safe and sound in bed and help him put the necklace on her

Elriel can't be together because Elain will always feel a tug to Lucien - yeah we know the mating bond feels like a tug, Elain has done a pretty good job of ignoring it thus far though, and it hasn't even been broken yet. It hasn't stopped her from trying to kiss Azriel in the hallway?

Elriel can't be together because SJM never pairs them with their first love interest - great! Because neither Elain or Azriel are each others first loves.

Elriel can't be together because Lucien deserves a happy ending - great! Good thing he has Vassa

Elriel can't be together because Gwyn will be sad - Gwyn could be the priestess at their wedding and she would not shed a single tear because she doesn't want Azriel and nothing she has done shows she is romantically interested in him whatsoever

Elriel can't be together because she's miserable in the NC - No she is not. And if she wants to leave, nobody is stopping her. And if I say Azriel will follow her to the ends of the earth, then?? Next.

Elriel can't be together bc she doesn't have an Illyrian pelvis - Adoption exists, ask SJM (adopted herself). Also, your misogyny is showing.

Elriel can't be together because Elain is scared of Azriel's darkness - I'm sorry, has she whispered those words only in your ears? Because nothing in canon suggests that she can't handle his darkness. She stabbed the king of Hybern - she's fine

Elriel can't be together because she is secretly pining after Lucien - brother where?? Also, she has a very interesting way of showing secret pining by getting Nawsty in the corridor with the spymaster instead of her mate

Elriel can't be together bc SJM is a fated mates author - Okay, and if I say the Elucien mating bond is fake and Azriel & Elain are true mates? Then what? Because SJM faked a mating bond with Rowan before - don't see why she couldn't do that again with Lucien & Elain to keep him away from breaking Vassa's curse. If she can do the switching up love interest plot twist this many times, she can definitely do the fake mating bond switch up too. Give me a single reason why not?

Elriel is not suited for each other but Lucien and Elain's personalities are perfect - brother where?? Again?? Because they don't even talk so how do you know they'd even get along?

Elriel can't get together because with Elucien and Gwynriel we'd get 2 stories - this is by far the stupidest excuse but I'd like to counter by saying Elriel + Vassien. There you go. Trade you one redhead for another. Now what?

Elriel can't get together because Elain needs sunlight - she said that once. When she was confused about her visions. She sat in the window once. When she was still confused about her visions.

Elriel can't get together because -

Y'all better just come right out and admit you don't like Elriel because you like Lucien better than Azriel or you like Gwyn better than Elain - because otherwise it is getting downright embarrassing reading your theories.

It's one thing to just not like a couple - that's your right and full send, nobody's stopping you.

It's another to fully claim Elriels are delusional for thinking a couple that is currently obsessed with each other is not going to be endgame. It's another thing to use out of context canon text to support your PREFERENCE. It's another thing to claim we use Elain as a self-insert because we "want Azriel smut".

Like tf? If we wanted Azriel smut we wouldn't care who he ended up with. If it were up to my personal preferences - I'd actually want Elain with Eris because I think that would be way more interesting than both Azriel AND Lucien. If I thought Elain was a self-insert for myself, I'd keep her with Lucien because Lucien book 1 is still my favorite.

So don't come around here and tell me Elriels are delusional for reading what is printed on the page.

It's not surface level reading if we look at a "Pool is 2FT deep" sign and believe it. We have NO reason to believe otherwise.

If you choose to doubt the words written on the sign -and dive in headfirst - that's your prerogative but something tells me you won't enjoy the results 🤷🏻‍♀️

[whomstress]

What it Takes to Feel Real (Part 1)

(Part 2)

Just wanted to explore Jax's more vulnerable side. Gooseworx here on tumblr said in an ask that everyone in the circus including Jax has a reason for why he turned out the way they are when asked if he was just an asshole or was it the circus that made him worse.

And though that's pretty vague I wanted to explore that! So here's a little bit of angst. Don't worry next chapters wholesome break!

‘This isn’t real,’ Jax tries to remind himself every day. It’s one of the things that keeps him sane. He could do anything he wanted here, and none of it would matter when he got out. All the bad behavior, pranks, and things he did just crossed the line. All of them really didn’t matter because, in the end, even if they could feel simulated pain, he literally could not do any real damage to anyone in here.

Wherever their real bodies were, they were much more in danger there than any loony toon charade he could do here. Caine tries to convince them that everything is constantly changing. But nothing ever changes. The same tent, the same sky, the same 90s digtial hell hole every damn day for years. Characters come and go, which is the only exception, except it’s also not. After all this time, he can tell who has it in them and who is going to crack. Only a matter of time is the real surprise before they’re tossed and forgotten with the rest of the cast. Heh “cast”, “characters”, he hated when he realized that’s all he sees them as now.

Knowing he can just do anything and everything he wants to when he wants to without any real-world consequences was something that somehow kept him sane. He probably says something about his psyche, but he doesn’t care to dwell on it. Sure, he was never a nice guy. For whatever reason he was here, he secretly knew he was the one who deserved to be here the most. Whether or not he’d admit it to anyone or himself was another story.

Still, the thought made him bitter. Why him? Yeah, he was a jerk and only got worse in here, but he knew he wasn’t a monster. Well, at least before. He's done some seriously questionable things since he’s been here. Some in private, some in public, and, to be honest, he didn’t care anymore. He knew what everyone thought about him. They think he’s a pest; oh, then he’d be a pest. Everyone here has gotten worse in their own way. Just cause he copes differently to stay alive, they had no right to judge him. None of them were better than him.

Except, one. Ragatha. The light in this tent. She stayed bright when others crumbled to the dark around her. She doesn’t even remember how many years she’s been here anymore, but he knows Kinger and her have been stuck here longer than anyone else. There had been several times he almost broke like everyone, but unlike everyone, Ragatha came to check on him. No matter what kind of asshole he’d been that week to her, trust him, sometimes it got bad. If she saw he was struggling, she’d put everything aside not to lose another “friend.”

He didn’t want to be her friend. For the longest time, they didn’t even like each other. She saw him as an annoyance, and he saw her as just another cog in the machine he got to mess with. He did have to admit that she was the most attractive one there. Probably because she actually had a human body, sort of at least, and so what? Kill him; he had a thing for redheads! However, again, that’s the furthest it went.

Out of everyone in this dump, she was the least annoying and funniest to mess with. Unlike Gangle, who’d cry like a baby, and Zooble, who’d try to beat his ass, she had a range of responses. From completely blowing it off to the cutest, least-threatening little pout to jumping in his arms to get away from a centipede, her reactions were always the best.

He found out the hard way. Things do change here. They got closer; it was the stupidest moment for her, but she saved him from falling straight into the basement when Caine wasn’t looking. The scene was straight from that movie for 5-year-olds, where she held out her hand for him and asked him if she trusted him. He looked at her and then at the pit of hell below him and said, “Yes.”

She grabbed him, nearly falling in herself, and when they were safe on the ground, she cried her eyes out into his fur, holding on to him like she was the one that was almost killed. Maybe it was from the shock, or maybe he was just too damn tired at that moment to push her away, but he let her cry in his arms. Shedding the tears for him, he vowed to stop letting him feel himself years ago. After that, things were different. It didn't matter anyway, he reminded himself; it wasn’t real.

He hated it, but he soon realized that whenever she called them friends, it annoyed him again, but in a different way. He didn’t want to be her friend, and he knew why. He tried to keep his feelings under wraps, still pranking and trying to play it cool, but of course she saw right through him. She knew something was "wrong,” and she wouldn’t leave him alone, no matter how much he pushed her away. Finally, he snapped; he’d purposely been avoiding her for days. Ignoring her and running the second he saw her face. He knew it was lame, but she was driving him nuts. It worked, or at least he thought it did.

He finally came home hours after everyone was asleep, only to find her literally on his doorstep. Rolling his eyes, he kicked her awake and told her to leave, but she didn’t blow it off like most times; she blew up instead. She started yelling, but he really wasn’t in the mood to make a scene and tried to leave her to go into his room. To his surprise, she pushed his door open and slammed it behind them. He joked about how she finally grew some before she came up and got in his face, chewing him out. She was telling him she cared about him, and it wasn't right; he was just ignoring her after all the progress between them. Although he did kind of deserve it, it still pissed him off, and with a wicked smile, he moved closer and closer into her space, making her back into the door and teasing, "Oh, you wanna kiss me so bad right now."

It was a joke. He wasn’t serious. None of this was. Another one of his games to get her to back off. But she didn’t. She didn’t back down, even though he could see how her face was red as he had cornered her against the wall. She still had fire in her. The one that kept her sane His eyes dilated into small squares while watching her expression. They’re practically chest to chest, and he can practically feel her heartbeat every time he takes another large breath to keep his cool.

With her this close, he catches her eyes dart to his lips, and he follows her lead. ‘This isn’t real,’ he reminds himself, and it almost works, almost. Well, at least that’s what he’d tell himself later. But when he looks up at her face, it’s flushed as red as her hair, and she cracks his final resolve with the most alluring and sensual, hushed, “Jax.”

He breaks. Not just a little bit but into a million pieces as his lips crash into hers. The only thought he can process is why he hadn't done this sooner. For the first time since he’s been here, it all felt real. Her lips, his heart that Caine swore he didn’t have roaring in his ears, his lungs gasping for air when they parted for a moment only to crash back together. He was a fucking knock-off bugs bunny kissing a life-size ragdoll in bad 3D animation, and he felt as existent as the memories he had of the life he didn’t mean to leave behind.

Her little gasps and whines, whimpering the only name he ever remembers against his mouth while wrapped in each other's arms, make him feel the most alive he’s ever felt. This damn circus will take it away from him again. He knows this; it’s hell for a reason, but he’ll savor all of it he can. All of her. Even if it’s just for a moment, even if it doesn’t happen again, he can pretend. This isn’t real, but God, for once, he wishes it was.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

I always forget that I shouldn’t give a shit about promoting something that I’m working my ass off on. That I should throw it in everybody’s face and glare as the yoke goes down there face 😡

Just kidding! Though I’m close to finishing up chapter two of ‘Bark At The Moon’ a little half way. And I decided why not post a little snippet from chapter 2. (Because im impatient and have control issues.)

Once again neither of them had been hiding their friendship at all, yet somehow Jason Carver was even more convinced that Chrissy had been cheating on him with Eddie. The guy was obtuse. Barely noticing that he was neglecting his relationship with such a wonderful human being, and seemingly being the only person at school who didn't pay attention to the gay rumors that have surrounded Eddie for years now. Sure, they were false. Well not fully. Like many things in life he even half assed being gay. Something that even shocked him.

"But I didn't even do anything Chris?" Eddie laughs softly. Turning his head to look at her shyly. Smiling gently as she gives him a bewildered look. Nearly stumbling over her feet in the process, blushing at the way Eddie's hand moves out and quickly helps her catch her balance. Smiling even more shy as he makes sure she's good before letting go. Ignoring the way her face goes a light pink.

A second passes before they both start to move again, Eddie's heart racing and face going a little red when he catches his Uncles eyes from the corner of his vision on them once again. He needed to ground himself, he was here to help search for Steve. Not trip over his feet for a cute girl who just got out of a relationship. That would be the most stupidest thing he has ever done, having a crush on somebody in a relationship is bad but liking someone who just got out of a relationship seeking for comfort? That might be worst. He felt like he was taking advantage of her, and he refused to do that. He didn't want to become some manipulative asshole.

"Well, I don't know. The fact that you knew more about my interests then my own boyfriend- well ex boyfriend. Was saying a whole lot about his character and very eye opening to me." Chrissy hums. Moving and walking again. Being more careful then what she had been. "And the fact that you went on a hour long rant over face time about how I deserved much better then him." She laughs gently. Eddies face only grows a bit more pink as he moves a hand shyly to move his curls in front of his face. In hopes to hide his facial expression. Though, there wasn't much hiding as he trips and falls on his hands and knees. Faintly hearing the laughter of his fellow teenagers behind him. He's flustered but what convinces him more that Chrissy is willing to be his friend, is the way she angrily turns on her heel and flips Jason and his small gang off. Silencing then, as Chrissy Cunningham never did such things.

Moving back, she bends down a little bit and helps Eddie up. Beaming as she giggles. "Happy to know I'm not the only clumsy one walking these woods." She jokes.

"Chrissy, you've literally been on top of a pyramid." Eddie snorts, not believing that she was clumsy at all.

"Yeah.. but that took a lot of practice. I don't know about you but I don't have much practice walking in these woods." She giggles, moving her smaller hands off from his forearms. Smiling as she starts to lead them forward once again.

"So...." Chrissy drags the word out gently, moving her feet and kicking stones around as they keep furthering their way into the woods.

"So?" Eddie snorts, looking at her with wonder. Biting his lip with a soft smile. Carefully fleeting his eyes from her back to the front of him. His eyes meeting Wayne's who was giving him a knowing look and a smirk. Causing him to mouth a silent 'fuck off' . He felt like some cringe eight year old dealing with his crush for the first time. This was all new to him, he's never had feelings for anyone before. Never had any desire about finding someone to have a relationship with, he was just Eddie and now he regrets not getting some experience. Maybe then if he had he wouldn't be literally tripping over his feet as much.

"Have you ever dated anyone before?" Chrissy asks curiously. Soft eyes looking at him, no looking through him as if she knows something he doesn't. A soft smile on her face, making her seem even more welcoming then before. Not judging as Eddie starts to cough a bit awkwardly, face a bright red as he shakes his head no in her direction. "Not even a guy?" She asks curiously. And oh god. Chrissy Cunningham believed  all of the rumors that surrounded him. Of course, her morbid curiosity was putting him in a rough spot. He was uncomfortable and he's never had to have this discussion with anyone before. Not even Wayne knew about his secret fantasies about Pedro Pascal, and if he did he was hiding it very well.

"Chrissy, you can't just ask things like that." Eddie hisses. For the first time since being around her, his shoulders are tense. His eyes fleeting over to his Uncle, who most likely thinks he's having one of the most straightest experiences of his life. Then his head turns carefully behind him, watching the way Jason jumps around a bit. Not taking any of this as seriously as he should. Here Eddie walked, on his journey to find Steve Harrington and on that journey he was somehow coming out as Bisexual. How ironic. Considering the fact he had a tiny, little crush on him when they had been younger. Long forgotten now.

"Oh, are you not?" Chrissy's eyes furrow with concern. "I assumed that you were after you wrote a whole poem about   Dean Winchesters chest." She whispers now. Catching onto trying to be low as possible.

Eddie rubs a hand over his face. Oh god he was going to die. He was willing to trip and crack his head open if it meant that he got out of this entire fucked up situation. Though there was something lurking inside of him that wanted to talk about this with someone. Of course, the whole conversation about Jenson Ackles "tits" had been had when he was completely high off his ass. Not thinking about what he was typing to Chrissy. Of course, a few other friends have received similar messages but it was something unsaid. Never to be brought up in front of anyone ever again. A stoned Eddie was a horny Eddie. Anxiety rose in his chest as he tosses a glance in his Uncles's way once again. Then sighing he gives in. Leans a little closer as he takes a shaky breathe.

"I do like guys, but I also like girls. And I would much rather leave my Uncle in the dark about that because there is no chance in a million years that I'm ever going to end up with a guy in the middle of bum fuck nowhere." Eddies voice cracks a little as he rambles close to the other. Wanting, no needing this conversation to be private as possible. "So-" he drags out the word that started this conversation awkwardly.

Chrissy smiles as she moves her hand down and carefully squeezes his hand into hers. Making his heart race as he quickly decides to add. "That and you can't just ask someone that out of nowhere? That's like... outing or something." His voice cracks more as he doesn't look up from the ground. Ears pink as well as he keeps walking forward. Not even sure where they were going, definitely not towards Steve Harrington. That was for sure.

"I'm so sorry. I thought we had this conversation over text message already. If I had known I wouldn't have just blurted it out like that. I know what it's like you know?" She says softly. Causing Eddie's head to poke up with interest. He's tempted to be bitter, tempted to say a snarky "how does the queen know? Do tell" instead he doesn't say that and just stays silent as he decides to listen. He wasn't good at good at reading signs, but this felt like a very keep your mouth shut situation.

"I think I might like both as well." Chrissy's soft voice cracks a little. Looking ahead, not meeting Eddie's eyes. "Though I think I have a preference for girls." She says gently. Eddies heart is conflicted. Here, there stood someone who was like him and that made him so happy. But there was another part, sad at the realization that the chances of being with her were remotely slim. He doesn't say anything, lets the information sink in. He squeezes her hand gently as he smiles painfully. Off to his left he sees his uncle smiling over at them. Probably assuming that they just confessed their love for each other, instead of coming out.

The situation was strong, emotional and overwhelming. But Eddie knew that Chrissy Cunningham was going to be his best friend in the entire world. No matter what he felt towards her.

Link to the first chapter

Chapter 2 should be up very soon :) I’m excited to share it lol.

[b0rista]

— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

WARNINGS: light angst & swearing.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: he's one of my ultimate favorite snk characters, and i needed to cleanse my page of the heavy ass warrior content djjfjf.

"you're either a blessing, or you're a lesson. either or, you and i met for a reason."

with all of the gore and the misfortune that comes with your livelihood, it's connie that gets you through it.

as expected, you first fell in love with him for his humor. not for the humor itself, but for how it shed the smallest flicker of joy upon a heaping tower of despair— as soldiers, you needed that. fortunately, he was the one that brought it to the table. even during your days as cadets, connie lived to make you laugh. hearing a chuckle flutter from your core served as a form of therapy for him, and with time, he grew addicted.

with that being said, he does the stupidest shit in order to get your attention. even when you're together, he'll do what needs to be done. for example, one time, he tried to impress you by doing a trick while saddled up on his horse. in an attempt to twirl like a jackass ballerina, the horse decided that it deserved better, and kicked him clean off its back. at the sight of his 5'2 ass being hoisted eight feet into the air, you nearly choked.

prepare yourself, he's a cuddler. after a particularly hard day's worth of work, connie finds solace in bedding up with you, knowing that you're safe, and with him. he asks that you don't tell anybody, but he actually really enjoys cuddling as the little spoon. to have his head pressed against your chest, his ear to your heartbeat, brings him comfort. of course, he'll never detest to being your big spoon, either. he absolutely loves the feeling of you buried within his touch.

^ if you ever want to go an evening without cuddling, he'll be immediately offended. never, ever, ever will the two of you fall asleep back to back. he simply won't have it, it makes him feel as if something's wrong. and if that is the case, nobody's falling asleep until you've talked about it and successfully sorted it out.

at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.

if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️

HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.

in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.

"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.

you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.

the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.

"connie, you're getting seXY-"

"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"

many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.

"marry me."

another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."

it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.

he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.

he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.

when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness. 

as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.

speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.

there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.

he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.

his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.

after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺

during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"

y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.

eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.

and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.

expect supremely cheesy pet names! bae, biscuit, buttercup, baby thing, sexy bitch, and so on. if it were anyone else, he would 100% make fun of them. but it's him, therefore adorable.

[holylulusworld]

Her decision

Summary: Consequences are something the mobsters never experienced. Bucky and Steve will learn they will get more than they bargained for...

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader x Mobster!Steve

Characters: Peter Parker, Dr. Helen Cho

Warnings: angst, pregnant reader, threats, mentions of violence, angry reader, I use the word rape & non-consensual (nothing happens but I mention it just in case), mentions of groping, bratty reader

Ours to keep masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

“How did it go?” Bucky smirks, watching his friend press a hand against his bleeding forehead. “Great I assume,” the lamp hitting the closed-door answers the mobsters’ question.

“She’s angry, pissed, and demanding,” Steve huffs, looking at the door. “I will not enter that room again. Not today or like ever.”

“Let me tame this wild little kitten,” self-confident Bucky opens the door to poke his head in. “Look at her, Steve. She sleeps peacefully.”

“I wouldn’t count on her being calm and nice. I can tell, she’s ready to murder you, me, and the whole organization. If not for Peter, I bet she would get a gun to shoot us all,” Steve winces feeling blood run down his neck.

“What did you do, Rogers?” Bucky blinks seeing Steve’s cheeks flush pink. “You couldn’t keep your dirty hands to yourself. No wonder she wanted to kill you with a lamp.”

“A Tiffany lamp, the one my mother gifted to me,” grumbling Steve points toward you on the bed. “Y/N Y/L/N is an angry mother bear, ready to attack when you get to close.”

“Rather when you try to touch her goods,” pissed Steve storms off, not caring if you kill his friend and partner in crime.

“Doll?” sneaking toward the bed, eying the lamp on the bed warily Bucky calls your name. “Y/N, darling I need to talk to you about a few rules. Can you not throw a lamp at me?”

“He deserved getting hurt!” You grumble, hiding underneath the blanket. “Bastard tried to touch my private parts,” snickering Bucky crawls onto the bed, aware you grasp for the lamp.

“He tried to touch our girl, doll. Don’t be such a prude. We both know you came so hard on our cocks that night,” Bucky purrs, glancing at your ass sticking out of the blanket. “I could fill you so good.”

“Is that what you want? Coming to this room to rape me?” Dumbfounded Bucky gasps when you wield the lamp in front of his face. “I agreed to come here to save Peter’s life, not to let you touch me.”

“I thought you know we want our girl back, including nakedness,” not giving in the mobster moves closer to touch your cheek but the lamp hitting his shoulder is not what he imagined would happen. “Doll, we just want you to be ours.”

“I don’t care,” you poke Bucky’s chest with the lamp, angrily clenching your jaw. “I wanted to give my innocence to someone loving and adoring me. Not to two guys who used me, took turns only to kick me out of their house like a random whore they can use. The only thing you forgot to do was paying me for my service.”

“We never pay for sex but you’ve got a point there, doll,” Bucky admits. “Listen, we are bad guys, okay. Bad attitude. Bad reputation. Rotten to the core.”

“You could’ve just left me alone. I had a nice life, you know. No one was paying attention to me but that was fine. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone,” you sniff, hiding your face in the cushions.

“Doll, I must admit at first, we liked the chase. But after the first rush subsided, I didn’t feel good for the first time. I kinda missed you,” you snort, closing your eyes. “We didn’t send Peter to have an eye on you for no reason. We wanted to know how you are doing and if he can find a weak spot to make you fall for us again.”

“Fuck off, Barnes,” you want to hit him with the lamp again, but Bucky is faster. Taking it out of your hand he throws it over his shoulder. “That was granny Roger's second Tiffany lamp.”

“I’ll take the blame,” Bucky smirks when you nod eagerly. “I know you do not have any reason to believe me, us, but we tried to win you over by using Peter.”

“…that’s the reason you wanted to fuck my colleagues. This must be the stupidest and lamest lie I ever heard. Call my parents, they can give you advice on how to lie to me,” voice thin now you sit on the bed, covering your bump.

“I heard about your parents, doll,” the mobster sits next to you, glancing at the bump you try to hide. “I promise, none one will touch you against your will. Steve and I are bastards, but we are not the kind of guys forcing ourselves on a girl.”

“What do you want from me? I’m no one special to you or anyone else. Can’t you just let me go back to my apartment?” Pleadingly looking at Bucky you sigh deeply. “Please?”

“We got a deal, doll,” Steve clears his throat, warily watching your hands ball into fists. “I’m sorry for touching you but the babies, they are ours, just like you. If one of our enemies gets to know you are our girl, they will hurt you.”

“I hate you,” a huff later Steve sits onto the bed, handing you a manila folder. “What’s that?”

“Pictures of Peter and his treatment. He’s doing better, his arm is fine,” you don’t like the way Steve looks at the pictures. “For now.”

“Can you for once not threaten someone? I like Peter, stop hurting him to get to me,” sniffling you close the folder, clutching it to your chest. “He’s a nice guy.”

“Did you fuck him?” Bucky’s voice raises when he must watch you hold the pictures to your chest. “The boy is dead.”

“Unlike you, I do not fuck anyone coming to my path. Peter is a friend and a boy. Jesus, I don’t think he’s at age. The boy is like my broth…,” your eyes water at the memory of your little brother.

Steve nods at his friend, not missing the way you cling to the pictures. “You miss your little brother.”

“I guess I like Peter as I imagined my little brother would be like him one day. A bit shy, but smart. Strong if he needs to and protective. He tries to make the best out of a bad situation,” Bucky nods, understanding how you feel.

“I had a younger sister,” the mobster moves closer to place one hand onto your belly, slowly rubbing it. “Rebecca, but everyone called her Becca.”

Bucky’s eyes sadden when you try to shove his hands off your baby bump. “Where is she?”

“Died years ago. It’s been ages since I talked about her,” you can see tears form in Bucky’s eyes and for the first time, you wonder if he can love someone. “My father, he was a notorious mobster, hard, unforgiving. When he crossed another line, my mother and sister paid the price.”

You gasp, clasping one hand over your mouth. Suddenly too aware of what could happen to your babies you look at Steve. “He’s telling the truth, Y/N. One day after his mother and Becca left church on Sunday they got shot. A drive-by.”

“That’s awful. Did they ever find the murderer?” Bucky nods, giving your thigh a tight squeeze. “Your father, he killed them.”

“It was a massacre. People still talk about it behind closed doors. After my father was done, Steve’s father, Joseph had to stop him. This is how we ended up uniting the empires our grandfathers founded.”

“Bucky’s father, he didn’t stop until his bloodthirst was satisfied. My father stepped in as George, Bucky’s dad was close to starting another killing spree,” you're horrified at Steve’s explanations. Your hands tremble and you feel like you are going to pass out any minute.

“Doll you need to take deep breaths,” Bucky brings you into his arms before you can fall out of the bed. “No more horror stories, Steven. Our girl just passed out,” Steve hums, moving his hand to your belly. “No touching without her consent.”

“I wanted to feel my baby…”

“Prenatal what?” Steve looks at the brochure the doctor hands to him. “I got no clue about this stuff, Dr. Cho. Can you explain it to us?”

“It means we will find out who the father is before Y/N gives birth,” Helen Cho, explains. “I can explain the whole procedure if you want me to.”

“Is it dangerous?” Bucky looks at your belly, not wanting anything to happen to his heir. “We will not risk anything. Y/N must agree too.”

“There is no risk, Mr. Barnes,” you chuckle, watching Steve turn pale when the doctor gets a syringe out. 

“You will not put that into my girl,” protesting Steve tries to grasp for the syringe. “I will not allow you to poke her,” Peter snickers silently glancing at you now and then, or rather anytime none of the mobsters is paying attention to him.

“Mr. Rogers, I need to collect DNA from the mother with a simple blood draw. Later we will gather you and Mr. Barnes DNA using a cheek swab. I will not hurt Y/N or her babies,” the mobster eyes Dr. Cho warily, not trusting her with his baby.

“Gosh, don’t get your panties in a twist, Rogers. Months ago, you treated me like trash, tossed me onto the street, and never looked back. Do not act as if I mean anything to you. I’m a breeder to you and your friend, nothing else,” you don’t hide your anger, even purse your lips when Steve tries to argue. 

“She could hurt you with that syringe or the babies. What if she tries to kill you?” you roll your eyes in an attempt to stop Steve from saying more stupid things in front of your doctor.

“I’m the mother ans got three votes, you only got one. I have the saying,” looking at Dr. Cho you nod. “Do it doctor. I trust you.”

“I have a vote too,” Bucky grumbles, stepping closer to you. “This makes two against three.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you can count, Barnes but I’m still the mother and got three votes. Now shush and let me handle this,” the mobsters do not like you start acting like a brat, but you are determined to show them you are in charge.

“How long will you keep it to yourself? I want to know about the results too,” Steve grasps for the envelope but you slap his hand away. “Doll, let me have a look.”

“I want to talk about a few rules,” Bucky grunts, tugging at the envelope you hold in your hands. “Y/N, give me the goddamn envelope.”

“First, Peter will be my personal bodyguard. No more threats or I’ll be gone, just like my babies,” jaw tense Steve looks at you, close to just taking the envelope out of your hands.

“Fine. One false step and he’s dead,” you narrow your eyes, at Bucky who suddenly starts to sweat. “No more threats got it.”

“Next, no touching or groping. I’m not your toy,” Steve sighs, ogling your growing cleavage longingly. “I would kill to suckle at those tits.”

“I don’t care and …gross,” you slowly open the envelope, checking on the results. “So, if you want to know who will become a father in five months you’ll give me your word that I will be safe here, just like my kids.”

“Promised, no tricks,” Bucky points toward the piece of paper in your hands, licking his lips. “Tell us now doll.”

“I’m not done,” grinning you stuff the letter into your bra, not caring Steve starts to growl. “You will not play your sick games with any girl again. You are mine now, which means no sex with other women.”

“Wait…you don’t want us to touch you,” Steve points out, hating you grin devilish. “You can’t be serious!”

“No sex for you at all,” both mobsters do not like your conditions but threatening a pregnant girl is not their style. “I want enough money for me and my children. Peter will not do anything illegal again. You will not go out with other chicks, this includes sex.” 

Whilst both men crowd you like lions ready to pounce on their prey you hold their gaze. “We have a few rules too.” Steve purrs, dipping one knee into the mattress.

“You will stay here. We will sleep in the bedroom we prepared, together. No other guys, no sex with other guys. The babies are ours, just like you. No leaving us,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, a frown on your face.

“No sex,” you cross your arms over your chest. “I mean it…”

“Negotiable, doll,” Bucky joins his friend onto the bed, looking at you hungrily. “Now be good and give me the letter.”

“I don’t think so, Barnes,” you scramble away, squealing when Bucky flips your over, covering your body to slip his hand into your bra. 

“Where is the letter?” Bucky grunts. “Doll, I’m losing my patience here.”

“I will tell you the results if you sign the contract Peter prepared for me,” you smirk at Steve. “I told you he’s shy but smart. Now be good little daddies and sign it. If you do so, I’ll stay and tell you about the results…”

“I fucking hate you,” Bucky mutters, pacing around the new bedroom. You are unimpressed. Legs crossed you relax on the soft mattress a smug grin on your lips. “You’ll get half of my money if I dare to cheat on you?”

“Correct.”

“Same goes for me, Buck,” Steve is still fuming. He had to sign a contract handing you his balls on a silver plate. 

“As you were such good daddies,” you coo, lips curved into a grin. “I’ll tell you about the results.” Both men sit onto the bed, leaning closer to glance at your belly.

“Tell us…” Bucky places one hand onto your belly, rubbing it slowly. “Please, doll. Stop torturing us.”

“According to Doctor Cho I’m going to be a mother,” you snicker, turning around to close your eyes. “I’m too tired now. Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you more. Now be good and stop moping. You’ll learn your place…”

“Learn our place?” Bucky chokes out, looking at Steve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh-pretty mobster,” you open your eyes, grinning wickedly. “Did no one ever tell you to never underestimate a pregnant girl? You’ll do anything I want you to do when I want you to do so…”

>> Part 3

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[glitxhwayventeen]

Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 1 (Perfect)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, smut, angst, fluff, potential blood mentions, genocide, runaways, domestic violence, child abuse, abandonment, homelessness, hunger, violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: I recommend listening to Perfect by Ed Sheeran before reading this. That’s the song I thought of while writing this because it makes me feel some type of way you know?

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀 & ☁️

Lonely Together Master List

Chapter 1: Perfect

It had been so long since you’d been around so many people. It made you antsy. You didn’t understand a lot of what was going on in the house. The constant noise scared you. It had you on such an edge that you nearly screamed everytime one of them coughed.

To be fair, before you had met them, you’d honestly jump at footsteps. Because footsteps meant humans, and humans meant danger. Not to mention that you were still not used to being in your human form. You preferred to stay a wolf, you were stronger when you walked on all four legs, and you weren’t as noticeable.

Your human appearance was… striking to most people to say the least. Your bright eyes and darker skin with salt and pepper curly hair made everyone around you always stare at you. You understood it somewhat, you didn’t match everyone else’s looks in Korea. But that didn’t mean you liked people watching you all the time, you hated being the center of attention. So to say you were still adjusting to being around people after having lived alone for centuries was a bit of an understatement. It was all so new to you. You had a new feeling now too. You just weren’t sure what it was…

At first, you thought maybe it was hope. You hadn’t hoped in such a long time, it would bring tears to even the most hardened criminal’s eyes. But you weren’t that good at trusting that human part of you. So you decided to go off of what you knew. And, even though you hadn’t been there long, two weeks at the most you thought, you learned a lot of things about them. You knew all but one of the wolves had a mate. You knew that two of the alphas butted heads on how to lead the pack a lot and that one just watched from the side and did everything behind the scenes without causing too much distress to the others. You knew they all loved each other, no matter what they said or how much they fought. You also knew that, being around them made you feel more alone than you’ve felt in decades.

When you were younger, you didn’t mind being alone. It meant that you didn’t have to rely on anyone, it meant you only had to look out for yourself. And as you got older, it just felt… right. But being around this house full to the brim with people, you started to realize just how much you missed being part of a big family. They treated you like you were one of them. Which was weird to you… because they didn’t really know you. I mean sure they saved you from imminent death, but they didn’t know you from Adam.

The more you thought about your current situation, the weirder the feeling got. The closer you got to each one of them, the stronger the feeling got. And when you got close to one of the quiet ones in particular, you swore it felt like your heart was singing to you. It was something you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to, but it wasn’t something you necessarily hated either. Whatever the feeling was, you’d figure it out eventually or it would go away on its own… right?

Still, You got to eat first with the other mates, well the mates minus Soonyoung. He may have been Seungcheol’s mate but 1.) he was a wolf unlike the other mates and 2.) he was a male wolf so he ate just as much as the other boys did. So they didn’t think it fair that he get to eat with all of you. Or them…. Or-whatever. You didn’t know, you just knew they offered you and the other girls food first and, considering you used to have to hunt for your food or you didn’t get to eat, you were definitely NOT complaining. Soonyoung though, you learned, had a tendency to whine about any and everything that he didn’t like.

“Aww come on again! No fair! (Y/N)’s just as much of a wolf as I am! Why does SHE get to eat first when I don’t??” Soonyoung decided to voice aloud, grabbing his plate with both hands and semi-patiently waiting for his turn to grab food.

You didn’t mind of course. You did think he had a point. It didn’t seem fair to him. Either he should be eating with the other mates, or you should be eating with the other wolves. So you agreed.

“He’s got a point. I should be eating with the other wolves. I eat more than the other girls after all” you shrugged matter of factly to the lead alpha, who was also his mate, who was hunched over the stove making said breakfast.

The thing is, Seungcheol did understand the argument. And he personally saw merit to the concerns, whether it was because it was a genuine point or whether it was just from months of his mate complaining about it, he didn’t know. Still, he saw it’s reasonings and thought they could be sound.

BUUUT, he also knew that SOMEBODY would definitely NOT be happy if you had to wait and fight the boys for food. It seemed everyone, wolves and mates alike, but you understood that Jihoon had imprinted on you already. Maybe you just didn’t know much about it, or maybe you knew and just decided you didn’t want to know, either way, it wasn’t for him to decide or judge.

So, as he looked over to the table of boys who were ACTUALLY patiently waiting their turn to dig in, his eyes landed on Jihoon, who shook his head and narrowed his eyes at the older wolf in return. Of course you didn’t notice this action, you were always more in your own head than you were in conversations.

“Sucks to suck kids. I make the rules and I say you eat with the mates. End of story. Sorry love!” he declared, once again moving his eyes ever so slightly to Jihoon, who nodded his head slightly as he smiled triumphantly.

He was NOT about to let his newfound mate eat the other mates leftovers with the other wolves. No. That was absolutely NOT happening. He may not have “officially” expressed that you were his mate, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna do everything in his power to make sure you were happy, healthy, and well fed.

“But-” you argued, trying to bring your point’s validity up to him again.

“But nothing (Y/N). Sure you eat more than the other girls. But you DEFINITELY don’t eat as much as the boys do. Even if you are a wolf. Besides you’re one of-” he trailed off just as someone around the room hit the table slightly and coughed. Everyone but you realized where he was going with that sentence, and Jihoon wasn’t ready to face that just yet.

“-One of our guests.” Seungcheol thought after a moment, clearly lying his ass off but hoping he did a good enough job that you didn’t notice. Luckily for him, you weren’t all that great at social cues. “Therefore you shall not be eating whatever’s left, you’ll get first dibs with the other girls.” He said as he sat one of the plates of remaining food left from what the mates couldn’t eat down on the table, kissing his pouting mates forehead in the process.

“Don’t worry about Soonyoung. He’s just a baby. He’ll get over it. You deserve to be eating with the mates.” Spoke the smallest boy of the pack with a smile that seemed to light up as bright as a bonfire whenever you looked him in the eyes. He was the one that had your heart singing whenever you were in the same room. His little declaration made your cheeks heat up.

“O-Okay, I guess. I still don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve the special treatment… but thank you” you resolved with a polite smile back, doing your best to hide the pink covering your face. His heart rate sped up to jackrabbit speed as his inner wolf seemed to beamed at your answer.

“No (Y/N). Thank YOU.” Hansol retorted with a shit eating grin on his face. What he wanted to say was “thanks for helping one of the assholes in the group become juuuuust a little less of an asshole by being his mate,” but obviously he couldn’t do that without getting his ass beat.

“Thank me? Thank me for what?” You questioned, genuinely curious as to what he was thanking you for. You hadn’t done anything to warrant a thank you… had you?

“Oh nothing. Don’t worry about it. You’ll find out… eventually” He let out, looking at Jihoon, earning a smack from the older wolf and a small growl. Though he whined for a second, Hansol still began to laugh at his actions.

“…Okaaaay…” you said, trying your best to forget the conversation as a whole so you could eat the remains of your pancakes. Man these guys are weird.

-

Jihoon wasn’t sure exactly what he should do. He knew he couldn’t deny his instincts forever. But he wasn’t so sure about this whole “mate” thing. I mean, who was he kidding, he got along better on his own. He survived on his own for his entire life, at the orphanage, at school, even in his pack. For the most part, he kept to himself. He was SEVERELY independent, and he liked it that way. People just always managed to bring attachments and strings. Even still, He couldn’t cut off his pack. I mean don’t get him wrong, he loved those idiots and would do anything for them, but fuck, if they didn’t have the dumbest ideas and get themselves into the stupidest shit sometimes.

He knew his survival instinct told him to just ignore the feelings he had for you and act like nothing happened to protect himself. It’s not like you had noticed anyways. But the wolf part of him loved the idea of having a mate. For the longest time, he had to sit around and watch his brothers find their mates and fall in deep love. He watched Seungcheol find Soonyoung first a few months after he had met him. Then Joshua found his mate, Mina, after a few weeks of knowing him. Even little Channie imprinted on his mate, Somi, after just two days of Jihoon being acquainted with him.

Before he knew it, it was just him left without one. They always seemed so… happy and he just… wasn’t. He didn’t mind of course. He was glad his brothers found happiness. But he soon came to realize how lonely being alone truly was. He’d see his pack and their mates do cute things and, his heart was struck with a dull pain that never seemed to lessen, and at the time he didn’t understand why that was. But when he saw you, he knew the whole time he was yearning for you. When he saw you, for once he didn’t completely loathe the idea of taking care of or protecting another person. Even if it meant becoming one of the “lovey people.” He saw you and, one bat of your beautiful eyelashes and he knew, he would gladly lay his life down for you. How could he not?

You were caring and kind, even if you didn’t like to show it. You held yourself high, even if you were small. You were little, but you were mighty. You were smart, yet funny. You hardly spoke, but when you did, it was always something memorable. You never seemed to hold your true self back. He already knew that you were Perfect for him, even if he’d hardly spoken to you. He just couldn’t help the sane part of him that was very weary of the whole situation.

As Jihoon debated his true feelings for you over his breakfast, the other wolves went and conversed with each other. They tried to speak to you too, but you never really had a lot to say. You preferred to listen, which they weren’t all that surprised at. Jihoon was the quiet, calm, smart wolf, so it’s no surprise that his mate was the same way. You’d both always seem to get lost in thought almost simultaneously. You’d both come back to Earth at the same time too, always with very similar excuses.

Though everytime your eyes met, you’d both look away, trying your best to hide the blushes that spread across both your cheeks. It was kind of cute and the pack loved that their brother wouldn’t have to be all alone any longer. He’d no longer have to just sit on the side lines while they all had the time of their lives. He now had you, even if you didn’t realize it yet. You could both be Lonely Together.

Another Author’s Note: I know this chapter is relatively short compared to the others I’ve written so far, but honestly, your girls tired as fuck. I work a full time job, go to school full time, and take care of a lot of my family’s household. Let’s just be lucky I can write at all. Plus, I wrote Wonwoo’s story earlier today too. So let’s just call it a success and I’ll write a better chapter for him next time!

(Updated 9/6)

[lostmystyx]

Pls enlighten me with ur kankri Hot Takes I don't know alot about the dancestors 🙏🙏🙏

buddy i know EVERYTHING about the dancestors. everything. and im wrong about nothing. i have read meenahbound at least ten times and that is an underestimate and not a joke. i have read every single fucking word kankris ever spoken, even the tiny shit, multiple fucking times, because my dedication to my craft is nothing if not thorough and torturous. ive read every goddamn character analysis there is on kankri, ive seen all the posts, ive read all the fics (not rlly i love myself), and i can tell you for a fact that everything everyone tells you about him is fuckint wrong. i started studying his character because i was mad abt how ooc ppl made him and i just got madder. i learned how to write him. i perfected it. and i havent done it in years because i hate him and his fans so fucking much. the world is not READY for my kankri takes. they do not DESERVE them.

but i love it when ppl ask me things, so for you, anon, i will take the time to divulge some of my secrets. first off, kankri is a bonafide grade a fucking asshole, hes ableist and sexist and abt every -ist under the sun, and he hides biting remarks under layers of political correctness and ranting so that by the time he insults you youre too zoned out to notice. that said, hes also not an outright asshole, hes not blunt with his meanness, hes not straight up about it, and people who just make him an uncaring dick are ALSO wrong. its an extremely thin line to walk and everyone is falling off like a toddler on a tightrope. he cares, deeply, but hes also fed up with everyone around him (and for good reason, because all of the other dancestors are ALSO massive assholes). he cares about being pc more than he cares about the actual issues hes "fighting for," he makes some good points, and he also makes a lot of bad ones. sometimes hes right, and sometimes hes just so caught up in what i believe boils down to a form of self-loathing via extreme policing of himself and others that he says and does the stupidest things known to man that make me want to cut my own dick off and staple it to my forehead so he can call me a whore and a transphobe.

second, hes capable of not ranting. like, he can carry a normal conversation where he talks a normal amount. it happens. inevitably someone will say something that gets him going, but you know. not every sentence has to be an essay.

third, oh my fucking god if one more person writes some fucking shit where hes "cured" of being celibate i am going to print out and laminate cards that say "youre an aphobe" to pass out to the masses. kankri isnt aroace, hes clearly in love with latula and just has self-imposed celibacy on himself possibly bc he thinks its gonna keep him from mucking up his quads, but even though hes not, and even if he was, the way people handle his celibacy is disgusting and offensive. if you dont want to write him celibate just dont make him celibate and pretend that never happened. otherwise it plays into the "ace ppl just havent found the right dick yet" thing, which iS RLLY OFFENSIVE. this is like. one of my number one kankri pet peeves. ill kill someone over this. the sexually repressed kankri hc i constantly see sucks and is objectively wrong anf im going to rip the head off of the next person i see doing it like a rabid fucking dog.

im going to make this my last note on this, bc i already have a headache just thinking about kankri, but the way ppl characterize his interpersonal relationships is bad. its bad. his relationship with latula is a mirror of karkats with terezi, nothing more, nothing less. his relationship with porrim is fucking bad and unhealthy. porrim babies and infantilizes him and regularly crosses his boundaries, and i t hink (?? dont quote me on this one its been a minute) the only time he rlly gets angry and blows up at someone is bc porrims does something he didnt consent to. at the same time, hes rlly rude to porrim and says loads of bigoted shit to her and treats her like shit. hes super ableist towards mituna, thinks hes an idiot, and treats him like shit. he doesnt really have a good relationship with anyone, because everyone hates him and he hates everyone and all of the dancestors are lions in a cage without enrichment, pacing back and forth and wondering how much longer they can stand each other before one of them snaps and kills the rest (oh wait! damara and meenah kind of did already! and kurloz is actively plotting a second death!)

anyway yeah. this is less of hot takes and more of a list of my pet peeves but yeah. i hate kankri, actually, i think hes the fucking worst, and i obsessively know everything about him out of spite.

disclaimer tho: i like all homestuck charas as charas like its cool its neat theyre cool n i hate kankri like you hate a villain but also i hate the fandoms idea of kankri and i hate kankri fans and if youre going to comment on this post defending ur hcs dont

[docholligay]

LIVESTREAM WINNERS AND TOP POINT COMMENTS

THose of you who read the schedule already know this but the winners are:

HOLLIGAY INVOKES THE SPIRIT OF CLOSET GHOST 

and

WE COOK FOR DINNER IN THE APOCALYPSE

Please join me for both! It’ should be a terrifying, thrilling time. 

AND NOW, THOSE OF YOU WHO MADE ME FEEL THE WARMEST. Thank you to all who answered--I know this was super self indulgent and it means a lot to me that you took the time. So, literally 12 out of the 13 of you got at least one point (One person did not give any details, or even a quote) MAZEL. 

Point allocations are below!!

One point winners: 

4(?)ish years ago, you sent Jet a series of letters/cards/funeral lilies, from different Sailor Moon characters. The lilies were for Mako. One card was from Michiru, after Haruka's death. I have never been able to find them again, but I just loved the care you put into them--how they were all written specifically from the character, the fact that you even put tear stains and perfume on the cards. It was just so creative and touching, and it felt like the characters were real for an instant, mourning and living and giving you a peek at their lives. --- @kumeko (That was A Little Letter, and Mako’s was actually a separate thing for the same contest!) 

   “Before you get yourselves killed I want to go on record as saying this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” Rei stood with her hands on her hips at the front of the garage- from that short story about Mina and Haruka strapping an engine to a shopping cart. You can really feel how rei must feel, the resigned exasperation mixed with genuine, but hidden, concern for Mina and haruka’s safety. I think i have said the exactsame thing before people i know do stupid shit. --- BeefSalad33  (oh ma, an oldie but, I think, a goodie) 

OH MAN. I am always thinking nonstop about that piece where Minako confronts Seiya about bullying Haruka, specifically for the line where Mina spits out "you think she'll love you for this?" and UGH that LINE. it HAUNTS me, I want to BITE DOWN ON IT AND NEVER LET GO, I WANT TO PUT IT EVERYWHERE EVER BECAUSE IT HURTS SO GOOD, AND I DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT SEIYA. --- @wouldntyoulichentoknow (I’m so glad that I’ve managed to make both you and jetty grit your teeth and care about Seiya at some point ahahah) 

"*But flowers grow from death and decay, don’t they? That has always been true, you know that, Mako. You are a rose of perfect beauty, grown in the rich fertilizer of your loss.*

She threw the stress ball across the room, knocking over the cup on the sink, spilling the ice down the drain."

The contrast between reminding herself of how life works, and then still being bitter about it, and knowing what she is and being frustrated about it. It's a lot, when sorting out various issues- i have trauma, and that makes me better at empathizing with people, i'm adaptable long-term, and that means i can put up with some bullshit, that kind of thing, but that doesn't mean those are wholly good things. It's nice to see it put into words, and so plainly, and with such a strong reaction of it.

Roses can still grow wild, as pretentious as that sounds with how your passage resonates to me, but it's still nice to feel that. ---- @katrani (I’m so glad it resonates with you! I liked that line a lot! ) 

2 point answers:

Christmas Carol, Stave 1 - “You are a terrible person,” she jutted out her chin, feigning strength. “Fareeha deserved much better than you. But,” she took a deep breath. “I still hope she forgives you, someday. Someday, I hope you will deserve it.” It feels like cheating to use the most recent thing you’ve written, but nonetheless this section conveys so much about your take on Mercy, so quickly. She may be an idealist, the peacekeeper and builder, and she may want Pharah to have a relationship with her mother that’s not this disaster, but that doesn’t stop her from acknowledging that Ana’s been the primary factor in making it what it is and telling Ana that directly. I love how you write Mercy (and Tracer for that matter) as very warm characters who try to see the best in their situations but won’t gloss over the fact that sometimes, someone does have to be shot in the fucking face. “Good” doesn’t mean “hopelessly naive”, even with a pacifist, and I appreciate that you have characters who show that. 

Bonus, and a fringe case as technically part of the Fushigi Yuigi hateblog: “She was still trying to get home, had been unable to get Tamahome to let her poison him, and then Nakago had hugged her into his chest until she had been forced to flatten him with a punch to the nads. She was tired, she was hungry, and she was trying to have a moonlight bath to consider her options and wash the stink of a man off of her.

And then, Tamahome, again.” - Haruka-gets-dumped-into-Fushigi-Yuugi-as-Yui was a delight that entire episode, but this post was one of the best. Is it really just narrativizing your frustrations with the many, many writing choices that were made here? Absolutely. But it’s a fun little bit of comedic pacing here, especially with the utter exhaustion of Haruka that this bullshit isn’t over yet. (“Fuck my life” to the moon wondering if Usagi could help and regretting how hard it would be to drown herself are close runners-up on that front.) --- Regalli 

(Mercy is, in many ways, my attempt to write someone who is MOSTLY a pacifist that I can respect. It’s not easy for me! I often find pacifism to be cowardice, because so often in life the people I know who are pacifists are, well, not the folks in the street. So i thought, could you write someone who is very hesitant to kill, who believes that even Doomfist, even Reaper, even whoever, deserve care if they are hurt, who believes that a sword will not leave her hand free to uplift the fallen, and make her brave? And make her strong? And so was born, Mercy, who proved that, yeah that person, at least in my mind, can exist.) 

I think one of my favorite passages from your writing is from "The Rest is Commentary". Particularly the part that starts with "I am a doer. " That entire paragraph is wonderfully written, with mix of beautifully descriptive language to describe *why* you don't trust words. It's slightly paradoxical, but it also fits with the rest of the essay (?) so well. And even beyond that,  I love reading when you write about your faith. You are deeply devout woman, and a personal aspiration to me. When you write about your faith, it reminds me that there is work that needs to be done to live it, and not easy work either. But it is very much worth every bead of sweat, and every drop of blood. --- @shavedjudomonkey 

(Thank you so much! I love that people have connected so much with my Jewish writing) 

3 point answers: 

From Requiem for the Great Consummation, I adore the word play with "compose." Ie, in the line, "Michiru folded her hands in her lap and composed herself." Why? I'm a musician. So, Michiru, with her music, holds a special place in my heart. (Why Ami gets the music attacks is beyond me. WTF?)  I don't think the writers ever really understood what it takes to be a musician, and while fanfic writers often include Michiru's music, I've never really seen it done well. (I'm sure it has been. I just haven't seen it.) Music is all about structure. It has to feel free and soaring, but it can only be that because of the intense amounts of tension and structure underneath. A kite without a string plummets. When I reach for high, soaring notes, that's when I have to be most conscious of having a solid base. Making music Is constant tension. So, often when I see writers portray musicians, it's all "she never felt so free and untethered as when she sang/played the,violin/piano/whatever." And I think, "wow, really? She must have been Crap." So, back to compose/compose. This wordplay shows that tension. The "I have rehearsed this 5,000 times and am still working so hard I'm sweating standing still in this freezing auditorium so that it can look and sound completely free and easy." This is Michiru's entire life. She is composing herself. She is outlining complex rhythms and tensions and resolutions that even though you hear when the piece is played, you don't fully take in or understand, and all you consciously comprehend is 'wow, pretty.' Because that's how music works. Organs have keys that can't be heard by the human ear, and composers include them in their pieces. Why? We can't hear them! But we feel them. If you look at the score for an orchestral piece, it contains So. Many. Notes. So much going on. But when you listen, all you hear is that melodic theme. But if you take out anything underneath, things change and cam fall apart. Michiru lives her life like that. She creates herself, composes herself, and it looks elegant and free and easy, but it is so so very tightly controlled and rehearsed, and that particular wordplay showed off that side of Michiru's music, which is one I don't get to see explored much. --- @incorrecttact 

(Thank you so much for this!! I am NOT a musician, but so much of Michiru and music speaks to me, the structure of it, the discipline, the way it allows you to express yourself while hiding behind something else. And yes! I think of that double meaning so much!)

I want you to know... that this was very, very difficult. I made a notepad and collected shit I'd pulled out from your work where I could find comments where I did such, and then I AGONIZED. Here is where I landed but know it's so close with other things god. 

"Winston worked in earnest at his inventions, and Emily went back to teaching, and the two of them began to cook for each other again. Family dinners once a week resumed, grew with some of the new recruits that were being folded into their family. Pharah and Mercy’s daughter took them to the zoo, the park, out into the world. Dva had continued the game they had all been playing before Tracer died, their party picking up after the terrible and well-done loss of their beloved rogue. ***Life did not return, but it grew forward. It bloomed again.***" — A Clock's Fading Chime

I ended up choosing this one because I hate it a little when I read it. Not because it's not good but because it's SO PAINFUL. I love so much about the way you talk about love, and I think grief is all a part of that. We grieve because we loved. The idea of the grief period, especially for those in a close circle of a lost person, being like the cycle of the seasons where a flower may die but life blossoms in the soil it left behind is so evocative and perfect and everything leading up to that last line is the soil for which that line got to bloom. The slow, simple way life returns to them, that they adjust to the heavy rock in their pack (A piece of yours I revisited for this and a metaphor I will always carry with me) and start growing stronger together. And that they find it WITH EACH OTHER too just god, it kills me. But would I rather wish it wasn't necessary? YUP. FOR SURE. It hurts to think about someone who plays Lena's role dying in our own lives and trying to mend the rift between those left behind. But it brings all those possibilities and who may have gone already before to mind because it feels so grounded in the reality of what these experiences are like and shit it's just a great sampling of everything I love about your work. Beautiful prose, saying so much with so little, grounded in stuff that feels read, and ending on a banger, transfixing line. ---- @thoughtfulfangirling 

(Thank you so much! I LOVED that whole series of fics around that, as it is in the way that I often like to toy with the nature of grief, and the way that we go on. Things aren’t ever the same, but we go on. And I’m so glad you gt into it too! It’s very self-indulgent for me, basically everything with OW, so I love when other poepl like it) 

4 point answers: 

Given that I am not Jewish, I hope this isn't overstepping my bounds, but your passover Seder speech really spoke to me this year. Specifically the bits about the relationship between cowardice and metaphorical bondage: 

"This is a celebration of our freedom from bondage, but it is a also a reminder, a call that we must ensure we do not, in cowardice, return ourselves to bondage. "

Without explaining too much, and risking the kind of parasocial oversharing that you lamented the other day in a post, this particular push and pull has been at the forefront of my mind this year. The intense gravity that the familiar, the easy, the safe, can have, versus the genuine terror of pressing out into the unknown in search of something better.

Trying to change, and to do better, and to press on, is fucking terrifying, and hard. But, that is not an excuse. And I appreciated the reminder.   --- @blastoise-m 

(Not overstepping at all! I am so glad that it speaks to you, I really, really love this kind of writing, and I really should get back to doing more of my Jewish writing. My rabbi is leaving, because we apparently don’t have the money to have a rabbi! And he’s readying people to be lay leaders, and called on me to be someone who could give Divrei Torah (sort of like our sermons) because of my tendency to do stuff like this, and it’s very scary! But really exciting as that’s the kind of stuff that had me interested in being a rabbi, is picking this stuff apart and applying it to our own lives HI YOU ASKED FOR NONE OF THIS SORRY) 

"There are no beautiful deaths in this world, and am sorry that you must know it. Rei never was allowed to say goodbye. I watched Haruka grow weaker and more ill every single day. We each have been jealous of the other, at turns, but I tell you this truth now: Our lives mean much more than our deaths. You and Seiya had a wonderful love story, and you raised a wonderful daughter, and unfortunately it is very often difficult to finish a story in a satisfying sort of way. It is not the end of your story, simply of hers. For you, it is a new chapter"

I think this is still one of my top 5 fav fics that you've ever written. I still think of it randomly once in a while. It's such a small moment but it sold me Usagi and Seiya in a way never would have expected. It's such a moment of growth for both Usagi and Muchiru. A small moment of connection for two people who are so different.

This is wrapped up in the entire MaS series, which I could never separate from this work let alone this quote. The entire series is a series about love and all its many permutations. About finding meaning in a world when you think your meaning has been taken away. About carrying on when you think there's no reason to do so. And I think this quote really encapsulates all of that. 

This story, this entire series, is one the favorite things I've ever read and I'm so glad that you decided to share it. --- @madegeeky

(I truly and in all ways love how much you love this fic, it cheers em and makes me so happy every time I am reminded of it. And thank you for loving that line! I FEEL that line. It’s been true for every death that has come to me, so I love when it has meaning for others. ) 

The 5 point answer:

"God separated the sky and the sea, and that’s true, but there will always be the horizon where they blend."

I'm not much of a quote person. I'll often remember the feeling or the takeaway but rarely the words themselves. This, though, has stuck with me.

There is so much in this world, and so many people, who see everything as absolutes. Black and white. Good or bad. Right or wrong. And as I've grown and changed, that has come to bother me more and more.

This quote is such an elegant and accessible way to express how that oh-so-common point of view is a fallacy. And really it's just a lovely line that invokes both lovely imagery and feeling. ---- @seolh

I FORGOT I WROTE THIS, and like the completely arrogant piece of shit I am, when I read it was I was like, “Oh fuck, that’s a solid line.” And yes I am with you on getting older and relizing that the horizon line can be so fuzzy out there, sometimes, and this quote WEIRDLY came back to me when I needed it, a lot, and so thank you! 

[seyaryminamoto]

If you're caught in the shadow then turn around Lost in the darkness, you will be found If you hear my voice, follow the sound 'Cause I'm here to guide you home

Gladiator’s Seventh Anniversary

March 26th swings by once more, and this time I’ve been celebrating this milestone for nearly a whole month :’D We have twenty Gladiator-arcs-themed artworks by now, and here’s our grand finale! A little more grand than every anniversary up to date, I hope!

This particular entry comes in two forms, however! And here’s the second one:

Say hello to the FIRST GLADIATOR ARTWORK VIDEO! :’D

Yeah, it wasn’t always meant to be the first xD I have two other videos in the works, and one of them is at least over halfway done (with rudimentary animation in it too :’D). Still, this occasion demanded it! And so I decided to go for a video this time, hopefully the next videos won’t take too long to finish!

This hasn’t been an easy year for me, despite I’ve certainly written a lot of things I’m reeeally happy about (that you guys will be seeing later this year). Quite often I’ve found myself losing traction, hope, faltering against many obstacles in my life. I’ve made big and small mistakes here and there, and I’ve had low points, even if none quite as low as the one I hit two years ago...

Still, at the end of the day, this story has always had my back in its own way. I’ve been able to find peace by writing it, even in the darkest of moments. Going over all the progress I’ve made with it, and looking ahead at everything that’s yet to come often fills me with the willpower and strength I need to keep going, no matter what. So, after a year of blackouts, water shortages, internet collapses, countless setbacks with my real-life plans and now even a pandemic, Gladiator has always been the safest harbor I can find refuge in when everything else fails.

This big finale is, of course, meant to encapsulate the growth of Sokka and Azula’s relationship throughout the first half of Part 2. At first I had wanted to draw scenes from each arc I had skipped... but that didn’t quite work out as well as that after I revisited a certain movie, which features a BRILLIANT OST, and it had two songs that I’ve now poached outright for Gladiator purposes :’D Strange Sight is a song that really works well for Sokka and Azula in general (from Sokka’s POV), but the bulk of the song really sounds more like it fits these two in Part 1 xD yet the very conclusion of the song changes its tone... and that’s the part that inspired me into making this video/artwork set!

The first scene depicted is Azula’s “blunder”, when she nearly admits she loves Sokka despite not being ready to say it out loud. He is thrilled, but she’s very flustered, so he gives her space while she blushes stubbornly in her Barge’s cabin (?). The second artwork comes from a scene I always wanted to depict in art, even while I was writing it: Azula watching Pohuai Stronghold at a distance while Sokka is enthralled, looking at her (even blurts out she’s beautiful because he’s a goofball like that xD). The third scene comes from their escapade to the healing hot springs, on the same chapter Sokka gives Azula her secret betrothal necklace. The fourth scene is the crazy kiss these two steal in the airship factory, when they lose sight of Ozai’s retinue and make out amidst the factory equipment, steam and whatnot rising around them... because that’s just the stuff they like to do xD The fifth scene is taken from their chaotic anniversary arc, once they had already patched things up and were drying each other’s hair with towels... Azula dried Sokka, his hair was a disaster afterwards and she laughed her ass off while he did his best to take revenge xD the sixth scene depicts a much darker moment, Azula using her gold fire to fight back against Seethus, underground (not sure if it shows, but clutching Sokka’s hand is what allowed her to use gold fire properly in the midst of such a desperate situation. And the seventh scene is meant to portray Azula in that arc too, after she has rebelled against her father and takes off with Sokka, putting more distance between herself and Ozai than ever before...

The final one isn’t really derived from a particular scene of the fic, instead it’s the image I always get of these two when I hear the end of that song. “You’re not alone” is definitely one of the most important things Azula needs and deserves to hear. Though it’s not only for her to hear it... it’s for her to know for sure that it’s true, that she has a partner who will stand by her through thick and thin, to the ends of the world if need be. That no matter how bad things can get, she knows he’s on her side and always will be.

It has taken quiiiite a while to develop their bond and relationship to this extent, but I have to say it has been such a wonderful process for me... as I’ve said in the past, Gladiator’s Part 1 was the story of how they get together, but Part 2 is the story of how things work now that they are together. There’s a strange, general perception of romance storytelling, and it even expands into IRL relationships, I’d say, that suggests, whether intentionally or not, that relationships stop developing, evolving, growing once they’re consummated. I don’t know if the fairytale “they lived happily ever after!” is to blame for that, but personally, I don’t see the point in watching a relationship be built up from the ground only to witness a brief glimpse of how it works before the curtain falls. That’s why Gladiator’s Part 2 has been the exact opposite of that. Both Azula and Sokka had a lot left to grow and develop after Part 1 was finished, their partnership did too, and there’s like a gazillion plotlines, new and old, that will be crucial in building up the biggest, baddest climax of the story so far. Therefore... I’d like to think my point has been made? You CAN tell a story about this side of a couple’s life together. Whether people stick around to read it is another subject, but if you’re working with a couple as dynamic as these two, getting them together is barely the first part of the journey.

I make it no secret that Part 2 is definitely my favorite chunk of the story, especially the chapters that are being published nowadays (and those that will be published in the future), so part of the reason why I went all out here is because I really, REALLY wanted to cherish everything this part of the story embodies for me and, hopefully, for everyone who has read and enjoyed it.

I deeply thank everyone who has stuck it out with me through this journey, no matter if you were here from the first moment or if you’re a newcomer who hasn’t even caught up yet. I’m also really grateful if you don’t know the story at all but still took your time to even drop a like on any of these posts. It has always been scary to be a creator on the Internet, both because of the potential backlash against what you do and, perhaps even worse than that, the indifference of people who don’t really care much about what you create, regardless of how much work you’ve put into it, and how much you’ve grown so you can make new ideas a reality. But there’s people out there, really wonderful people, who have always been supportive of my crazy creative efforts, always sticking by me no matter how difficult it could be (and no matter how long this story gets :’D). I’m far from a perfect content creator, and sometimes I get discouraged by the stupidest things... but when you guys show interest in what I do, when you say how much the story means to you, it never fails to revitalize me and get me going once again.

So this big celebration is for those of you who stick by me, who support me, who encourage me at my lowest and highest alike because you believe in me and the story I’ve been telling for SEVEN YEARS NOW :’D It’s also for those who may yet return to see what mayhem I’ve crafted for these two in the years since they stopped reading. And it’s, without a doubt, for myself... because now I’m certainly far more confident with my art than ever before, and because everything I make for these two gives me all the right feels just when I need them. Finally... it’s for Sokka and Azula, most of all. The two sides of my beloved OTP, who have been by far the most inspiring characters I’ve ever worked with, and who deserve the entire world, as far as I’m concerned. Granted, I’m a jerk and I won’t make things easy for them in the coming years... but we all know they can be stronger and prevail! At least, I hope you all believe that as well as I do xD

So, as always, here’s to you, my supportive readers, to these wonderful protagonists, and to the story that chronicles their many adventures on their way to changing the world, as they always have meant to! Thanks to all of you for your support, and keep an eye out for Gladiator’s next update, dropping tomorrow!

[ackermanist]

Do you think levi will d** in the end?

Hi buddy! :)

Well Levi and the d word is really something..

Tbh i don’t know...

Levi being considered the strongest soldier of humanity thanks to his physical and moral strength always puts him in contradiction with the countless deaths in this manga.

Frankly, Isayama has made a massacre in his characters since the beginning of the manga.

It's really hard to ask myself if Levi will disappear in the end, if we count on the fact that only one side has to win, that is, the Alliance against Eren, then if Eren wins 100%, then yes Levi will certainly be part of the losses.

I explain myself here: Eren has already won more or less in advance if we assume that no matter what happens to Eren, if the Alliance wins this fight, the fandom likes to think that they will end up being acclaimed by the rest of humanity for saving it. (Which I don't think so at all. But I'm going to make a little diatribe about it that I'll post on @erenspaths).

I've come to wonder why Yams kept Levi alive when he clearly should have died so long ago and even more since his last fight with Zeke on the wagon before the explosion.

3 options are open to us:

- He kept Levi alive, so that he could be among the saviors of mankind, his ultimate goal in life, his only reason for still being alive in truth.

- He kept Levi alive for a confrontation with Eren, but I feel Levi completely destitute lately, he lost the gleam of will that he had so much, it's not the same Levi anymore. His obsession with Zeke's death reveals many things:

He wants Zeke's death as his personal revenge for putting him in such a state.

He wants Zeke's death to avenge his men, his comrades and of course to honor his promise to Erwin.

He wants Zeke's death because he is trying to find a pretext, at least an alternative not to attack Eren. Not out of fear, because I don't think Levi is afraid of Eren, but I think it would tear him apart to have to kill Eren, honestly.

- He kept Levi alive in order to make him one of the survivors of the rumbling and to be the guardian of the memory of his comrades and their struggle, a little like "the last soldier still standing", the last trace of a tumultuous past, he who at the base was doomed to die so young in the filth of the Underground if Kenny hadn't saved him.

In another sense, I want this man to survive, that he finally deserves a little happiness, a little sunshine in his life, after all the pain he has suffered. He is one of the most tormented and tortured characters in this manga. The guy is cursed to see his loved ones dying around him and despite his great strength, he is helpless in the face of it.

I'd like to see Levi start to discover life, the pleasures it can offer, because right now he's fighting for the survival of life but he never really lived. That would be his best conclusion.

And in yet another sense, Levi would do better to die, what else could he offer than his life as a sacrifice for the ultimate goal of his life: the preservation of humanity. The strongest soldier of mankind falls in the battle of his life. I know that if Yams kills Levi, he will offer him a spectacular death, worthy of Levi -fucking- Ackerman. That's why his death related to Zeke's explosion was meaningless to Levi, it was the stupidest death Yams could offer him.

Levi's death could also offer him a nice conclusion. He will be reunited with all the people he loved in the afterlife, his comrades and friends on Survey Corps, his friends Isabel and Farlan (who died too soon), Erwin his faithful friend and commander, Hange, his faithful comrade and friend, Kenny Ackerman, his mentor and uncle and finally the person Levi loved most in the world, his mommy whom he lost too soon too, Kuchel. And tbh Levi is so freaking depressed (like all of them yep but..) tired and sick of this life. (Watching him, sat in the sand, made my heart broke a little, I must admit.)

I have faith in Isayama and his judgment just as Levi had faith in Erwin and his judgment, and if Yams decided to keep Levi alive so far it is for a specific reason that I am eager to find out, nothing is ever done randomly with Yams, everything follows a logical sequence.

In the hope that I’ve replied to your ask buddy, because that’s truly what I think about Levi and the d word.

[dukeofonions]

Reaction Redux (I know it doesn’t make sense but it sounds cool)

Alright, here is my initial reaction to Putting Others First: Selfishness vs Selflessness Redux.

It’s finally here, I’ve watched it a total of two times and currently have it on in the background as I type this, and I have a lot of feelings. All of which would be too much for one post, so after I do this I’ll be making a few separate posts addressing certain points I’d like to expand on further. 

So what I’m going to do is have the video playing as I write this out, that way I don’t miss out anything I wanted to discuss. Basically it’s not gonna be a full on analysis, just a lot of random ramblings with what I hope are some insightful gems sprinkled throughout. Consider these my notes for all my future serious analysis posts. 

Good? Great. Let’s go.  (Also spoilers under the cut)

So, how did I feel as I watched the video for the first time? Well considering I got the notification for the video while I was still at work, I couldn’t get as excited as I wanted to be about it because I didn’t get off until 8pm and had to deal with one too many dunderheads so I was pretty grumpy once I got off. 

However, as soon as I got home and retreated to the safety of my isolation fortress (aka my bedroom) I was finally able to get excited as I got on my laptop and pulled up the video and let me just say I was a mess the entire time. I missed my boys!!! I knew they wouldn’t all be present, but I still missed my boys!!! And I loved seeing them again!!! 

First things first, that song at the beginning! I think it’s called Review Redux (correct me if I’m wrong) it’s such a freaking bop and I wish it was longer because I could listen to it all day. I loved the artwork and little details that went into their characters, and how each of the circles represented who was singing/talking by their colors. Fun stuff and a great way to recap everything! As well as foreshadow things to come within the episode… “If our goals aligned with his what would that say?” Roman you’re in for a rude awakening bud… 

Also, the little moment near the beginning where Patton is about to shut Thomas’ negative thinking down, but stops himself and allows Thomas to explain why he feels that way. Showing that he’s learned to ease up just a little since he learned to do so in Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts. Good for you Patton. 

Speaking of Patton, oh he is so confused. I understand where he’s coming from, and honestly everything he said are things I have been taught growing up, and this is something I’ll address in another post because I have a lot of things to say about it. But just know that I adore the development Patton has been going through and watching him grow and mature. 

Oh yes, I must mention I was pleasantly surprised to see Logan. I didn’t think he’d show up in this episode, or at the very least have a brief appearance, but I love how he took part and by far the funniest part in this episode (to me) is when he had so much to say in one little post that it popped up and hit Patton in the nose. It was one of the few moments where I laughed out loud and I rewound it a few times on my first viewing. 

Plus Thomas being more concerned about the blinds than Patton. My type of humor. And Roman actually gets to use his sword for once, good for him! 

(Funny enough as I typed this the video got to that part at the exact same time so I got a nice little laugh again) 

Which brings up my next point: Logan getting yoinked after Patton skips his dialogue. No one talks about how he does his little impression of that philosopher, am I the only one who found that utterly adorable? 

Let Logan geek out over philosophers please. He clearly loves it so much. 

Then we get to Roman believing he’s the one responsible for everything, wanting to give up the driver’s seat to Patton. And just… This exchange of dialogue:

Thomas: “Roman, I only mean well when I say…” Thomas: “That that is the stupidest thing you have ever said.” Roman: “Oh Thomas, you’re just blowing smoke.” 

I don’t know why I enjoy this so much but I do. Give me more of this. I crave it now.

And I just need to make a whole post about Patton in this video, there is so much to unpack with him alone.

Looking back and noticing that Thomas only starts listening to Logan after he’s been replaced by Deceit kinda hurts. 

Speaking of which, can we appreciate how much better Deceit has gotten at impersonating Logan? Looks like he took Roman’s advice and focused on the little things. Good for him. 

Alright, one of my absolute favorite parts from this episode and where things really start to shine: Patton freaks out and turns into a giant frog because he’s so desperate to have an answer for them he flips and honestly, sounds a little crazy. Which, I don’t know why but I find it both menacing and hilarious at the same time? 

Also the fact he turns into a frog because he was talking about Frogger earlier, nice touch! (And Lilypadton that’s so cute) 

Then we get probably the single greatest character entrance in the history of character entrances. We find out that Deceit finally reveals himself and steps in to stand up to Patton and get him to see how his actions have been having a negative effect on Thomas. 

The way his voice changes from Logan’s to his own, his music kicking in, “The Lord of the Lies” oh my gosh it’s all just perfect! Also Roman’s “Reptilian Rapscallion! Reptilian Rapscallion! We’ve got a code yellow!” 

And if I may: Roman: “What have you done with Logan?!” Deceit: “Nothing at all and I resent the question.” 

WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM YOU SNEK?! 

(in all honest probably nothing but what if) 

Important to note here that Roman instantly begins defending Patton from Deceit as soon as he accuses him of misleading Thomas. This goes to show just how much Roman views him as a villain. Or in other words: Patton, good. Deceit, bad. A viewpoint he continues to hold onto until the end of the episode, which also deserves it’s entire post because we all know how much turbulence that caused within the fandom. 

And to the observant eye, you’ll notice that the cane (or staff) Deceit uses is the same one that dragged Logan off screen. 

Frog puns. That is all.

I just, I love Deceit’s dialogue throughout this scene. It’s stuff I need to hear and tell myself on a regular basis. And I’d honestly rewatch this part (along with the rest of what Deceit and Logan say later on in the video) because it’s all something I need to also teach myself. But this ain’t meant to be a personal post so I’ll just move on. 

Deceit’s walk towards the camera. I don’t know why. It’s so smooth. He’s amazing. I love him. Snek… 

I have problems don’t @ me. 

Also no one is mentioning the reference to that one “Turn based rpg” short that Thomas made with his friends and I find that sad because it’s a neat and fitting reference given the theme of this video. Also earlier on when the trolley problem is first brought up all the people on the bottom track are Thomas’ friends. Another neat little detail, though sadly, their digital selves perished. 

PETER SINGER 

Logan doesn’t seem to like Deceit much, not outright hate him or anything, but it’s more like he just tolerates him but doesn’t seek to get on good terms with him. Which is a shame because as both parts of SVS have proven, these two have the capacity to work together. Which is why I hope Logan gets a debate episode with him as well because out of all the Sides, these two have interacted the least and that needs to be remedied (especially when they’re my two favorites) 

Deceit is trying to make Roman understand, but he’s so caught up in this black and white thinking that he disregards everything Deceit says! Why? Because the last time he tried to hear Deceit out he was reprimanded. (In other words, I relate to Roman so much in this that it hits a little too close to home and I’m definitely making a separate post about this. 

Deceit: *confused* Trees? And I’m so glad I found out I’m not the only dunce who thought Deceit’s name was going to be written on his hand… 

But seriously this whole moment, with the buildup, Deceit’s reluctance to share his name, the music, I’d put it up there with Virgil’s “I was one of them” for best Sanders Sides scenes.

Also, Deceit’s name is Janus! I was a little iffy about it at first, but since I didn’t ever really have a prediction for his name, I wasn’t disappointed and the name is growing on me. 

And then, the moment of trust is immediately ruined by Roman laughing. Dude, come on. (again though, post for another time because I understand where Roman is coming from here)

In all seriousness though I just love the last bits of this episode. The emotion, the angst, it doesn’t hold back and I appreciate the team taking things a step further than normal. Usually, moments like this are followed up by a joke to play it off, but they don’t do that after Roman sinks out. They stay in the moment until it’s had time to sink in. I wish the episode had ended a little more somberly, but I think this is a good step in the right direction. Showing that there won’t always be a 100% happy conclusion to things. Sometimes you need to take time in between to figure things out. 

This line: “Do you think there’s a limit to how many times someone can say sorry before you have to admit that they’re just bad for you?” This line is so important to me within the context of the episode and outside of it. I won’t get too personal but I will say that I was raised to believe that if a person wronged me in any way, that if they said sorry, I had to forgive them. Even if they did the same thing over and over and over again. As long as they apologize, you have to forgive them and move on. And that has messed me up in so many different ways, especially when those people are family. 

Janus sums it up best with “It depends” because yes, some people make the same mistakes again and again. But there’s a difference between someone trying to change and accidentally falling back on old habits, and someone taking advantage of your “forgiveness” that they continue to do those hurtful things because they know they can get away with it and not have to change. 

Also, while it’s totally fine for people to dislike Patton, I can’t understand how anyone could watch this episode and claim that he’s still the same as he was at the beginning of SVS Part One because he has changed. He has finally realized just how much he’s been hurting Thomas, and even Roman. He sinks out at the end to apologize to him, he recognizes his faults, and he’s seeking to make amends. He wants to do the right thing here, and keep in mind that recently a lot of his views (which are also Thomas’ views) have been flipped on their heads and they both need to rethink some things. It’s part of growing up and becoming your own person. 

I need to make a whole post about the more personal things that I got from the last three episodes (excluding Asides) because there’s just so many important things these episodes teach and I feel the need to address them. 

Also everyone sleeping on the fact that Leslie Odom Jr. just casually makes an appearance and attempts to start a pilot episode for his own series “Odom Sides” which I wish him luck on. He just wants to be in the room where it happens. 

Everything Patton did was for Thomas, so he wouldn’t be left in the dark again. He promised to keep fighting but ultimately, ended up fighting himself. Am I deep yet?

“Those imperfections don’t make you any less worthy of love” can you tell how much this episode means to me yet? 

Janus’ “I’ll take care of him.” Ack, he just cares so much… My gosh… Where did this character come from and what did he do with the slimy boi? (I mean that in two different ways)

Oh, there he is. That’s my boi. 

“There are smarter ways to get people to do what you want anyway.” “There are much less barbaric, much more fun, forms of sabotage.” 

Parallels? Maybe? What the heck I love Janus whether he’s encouraging Thomas to look after his mental health or plot his schemes in the shadows. Do I trust Janus? Oh heck no, of course not. There is something suspicious going on here and I both love it and hate it. More on that in a different post though.

“You’re not stuck with an evil snake boi. You’re just stuck with a snek boi.” 

Yes Thomas, continue to overthink every little issue until it results in a mental breakdown. Hm, sounds like what someone with anxiety does… I suppose that’s why this series exists. 

Okay call me a bad person but I almost always space out during Thomas’ messages to the viewers at the end of the videos. I don’t know why but I cannot focus on them to save my life and usually end up skipping past them to get to the end card. I dunno, maybe because it takes me out of the moment? Especially during episodes where they don't’ address the audience at all and then suddenly “Oh yeah! This is a Youtube series lol” it just feels out of place in more story driven episodes like this one. 

Okay am I the only one that’s kinda creeped out by Lee and Mary Lee? I dunno they just seem, off. Like if they were characters in a horror movie they’d be that overly nice couple that turn out to be the killers. Those are the vibes they give me. Maybe it’s because I have zero people skills due to being homeschooled all my life and the only social interaction I get is with coworkers so I dunno. They still creep me out. They creep me out more than Remus. And he legit freaked me out for a bit before he stole my heart. (I suppose this means I need to make a separate post about these two because I do have some opinions about whether or not it was a good idea to actually include them at the end. When I said I had too many thoughts about this episode I meant it)

And if the end card is any indication, I’m going to assume that the Sides are invisible to everyone except Thomas. Unless they’re just “observing” and not even Thomas can see them at this point, given he shows no indication of seeing or hearing them there. Maybe they get to choose when they’re visible? Or Thomas does? I dunno, the rules of this universe have never been clearly stated and are inconsistent. 

I didn’t expect Patton to be the first to accept Janus, and I’m kinda glad I was proven wrong. It does seem fitting with Patton’s growth and I liked their little moment at the end. 

And that wraps up my commentary. I hope you found something in this mess of, things. I plan to go more in depth with my separate posts which I’m going to have fun writing, so be on the lookout for those! 

Also at the time of writing this I now have 63 followers?! Thank y’all so much! I never thought this blog would get this far and I’m so glad it did because I’m having a lot of fun with it and hope to bring out more content regularly! Again, thank you!!

[mimiplaysgames]

save it for the morning after, pt. 2

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: E (Explicit) Word Count: 7,384

Summary: Terra learns to trust his body to another.

Read on AO3

A/N: HAPPY TERRAQUA DAY!!! I posted what would’ve been a one-shot last year... then came the messages asking me to expand on that. Considering what kind of writer I am, I don’t know if y’all understood what you asked for: I pick on Terra savagely - it’s dangerous to be my favorite. This piece goes to @lyssala who requested a piece that featured Character C interrupting Characters A and B during moments when they wanted to be alone, when I wanted to celebrate 100 followers on Twitter! I had to split this chapter in two cuz it got too long, so CONGRATS. You get two gifts. <33

~*~*~*~*~

Waking up is a nightmare.

Terra doesn’t remember his dream when he opens his eyes - only the sensation that he’s about to stare into a cloaked face, grinning with sharp canines and bright yellow eyes. His jaws clench badly enough that his teeth grind. His lips feel like they have been sewn shut. He can’t move anything, not his head cemented against the pillow, not his sagging arms or legs, as though the strings he’s used to move them have been cut. 

Not again. 

He takes in oxygen with short, desperate inhales through his nostrils. His fingers claw into the bed sheets as he tries to take back control.

As pleasant as this bright sunny morning, something presses on his chest, crushing his breath.

Yet, the only thing greeting him is an off-white ceiling.

Falling asleep is usually just as bad. It’s not the act of dreaming that puts him in danger - it’s the transition between consciousness and not that he fights every morning and every night. It’s the feeling of slipping out of fear that he’ll never speak again. If he didn’t have to rely on sleep to stay alive, he would just never close his eyes again. 

She shifts next to him, murmuring before quieting.

Terra thanks himself for not moaning or yelling this time. The last thing he needs is to disturb her with his fits.

Aqua rolls over, readjusting her body before nestling into her pillow. She looks so serene like this, bedsheets wrapped tightly around her hips and her breasts exposed, creamy and still.

It’s bright for an early morning - the snow outside reflects the sunlight, painting the entire room in a brilliant glow that illuminates the entire room, including just how pink her nipples really are.

She’s like a mermaid. Precious and rare, something he doesn’t deserve, and he’s the stupidest, luckiest bastard in this world, who has done absolutely nothing to have her in bed with him.

He’s more unworthy than that - he’s in her bed.

Terra lets go of the sheet finger by finger, his breath eventually losing its deathgrip over his throat and settling still, letting his muscles relax and giving his shoulders back some control. Rolling over to his side to watch her, he leans on an elbow. The butterflies in his stomach flurry worse than ever, more excitable than even last night.

Last night… Wow. He can’t believe it all happened. Lying together undressed, touching her, sharing kisses that he dreamt of for years, feeling her on his skin, being inside her, how they exchanged breaths to keep going… now she’s sleeping soundly like she’s in the safest place in the world.

She’s told him before that she has the worst trouble sleeping, but last night, she fell under quite quickly in his arms, taking a spot in the crook of his neck. He’s glad he could help her in any way.

The Realm of Darkness has done an impressive job in preserving her. While Aqua doesn’t smile like she used to, her face is still everything he remembers. Face untouched by marks or lines. Lips pillowy and hair the same color. For her, sleep is peace, very much like the way she used to look when she napped on top of her open books in the library, halfway through an anxious night studying.

She’s been given a second chance at life - they all have, let’s be honest. A rare grace that most will never see. People grow old, they separate from their loved ones, they die. Here two of them rest in a soft bed, keeping their youth, grasping at something like childhood dreams and excitement about their future - but the truth is they’ll never have it again. He’s sorry about that.

And Aqua, she does have scars even if they don’t live on her face. There are scruffs crisscrossing down her arms, two on her collarbone - mostly unnoticeable to anyone who doesn’t know their history. There is one, faded and white on her bicep, that he inflicted on her one nasty afternoon when he wanted to prove that his brand new Keyblade was stronger than hers.

He paid for that afternoon with a severe lecture and a fifty-page essay.

Then there are others - nastier, some braided, others like craters. One on her ribcage right under her breast that curls and splays. There’s a slash across her entire back, and he’s scared of asking where it came from.

Really scared.

Of course, he has to account for all the scars he can’t see: the ones that make her flinch at night, like Ven walking in on her unannounced, taking her by surprise.

She pays for her second chance at life in plenty of ways.

Despite it all, she’s beautiful. She has always been. And when she’s gray and cranky, she still will be.

Her nose wrinkles and she sniffs - some of her hair strands have fallen in front of her face, tickling her.

When he takes the opportunity to brush her hair - gently, gently - off of her face, Terra lingers in the feeling of silk strands as he collects them behind her ear. He’s always wanted to do this. 

Aqua hums, her arms stretching outward. Her chest arches with breath. He jerks his hand away, hoping against hope that he didn’t ruin it.

“Sorry,” he whispers, almost shushing her back to slumber.

Wiggling her eyelids open, the first thing she notices is him. Aqua smirks and immediately covers her mouth with her hand to giggle. 

So seeing him struck memories of last night for her, too.

“Good morning,” he says, trying to sound cocky but his voice is rougher than he wants. 

She brings the bed sheet up to her nose. Her cheeks are as red as a tomato. This isn’t really her usual self, Aqua has always had too much dignity for giggling. But he likes this sudden melting of her defenses - a flustered Aqua is a cute Aqua. 

“Good morning,” she says, almost like she’s about to ask what he’s doing there. Despite covering herself, her smile reaches her eyes, and every time she glances at him, she beams even more.

“Looks like you’ve slept well,” he says with a distinct flavor, like he’s witnessing a scandal.

She narrows her eyes. “What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat. “You’re…” Naked. I’m naked. “The proof is under the sheets.”

Aqua composes herself, lowering the sheet to her collarbone, and confidently calms her nerves, her eyes whittling away all that childlike excitement from earlier.

But he knows she knows what he’s talking about, though there’s not a hint of shame in her eyes either. She rolls over to meet him face to face.

“I did sleep well,” she says softly, inching closer, looking up at him.

Her intense blue eyes glimmer, especially in sunlight. Drinking in the sight before her, they find solace somewhere on Terra, even though he doesn’t have the capability to give it to her. 

Terra’s heart thumps and it’s the loudest thing in the room. His fingers strum the surface of the bed, so close to her face. He could tap her nose and make her laugh. Cup her cheek and let her sigh. Stroke her jaw and finally embrace her.

These are all just fantasies, but he indulges in them. Aqua’s quicker to act. She lifts her head up, closing the gap and taking his lips onto hers.

While the ones they had last night were hungry, maybe even desperate, this one is patient, feeling him slowly, taking him in different angles, exploring the sorts of ways she can invite his tongue to do more. 

She gathers her arms around his neck, pulling him as she falls back. When she skates her hands over his shoulders - his biceps and back up to his pecs - his skin electrifies, shooting goose flesh down his spine. 

Aqua lets one hand go to fuss with the sheets wrapped around her chest, letting nothing stand between his bare skin and her creamy softness. 

The contact shocks him and he has to breathe deeper, taking it in like he’s drowning. It helps him feel her all the more.

More. Everything in his twitching groin needs more.

Gripping her waist in a moment of panic - the kind where he’d never feel her again if they let go - Aqua responds by pushing with her weight, rolling him onto his back, pulling them together with her hands on his jaw, her messy kisses pulling hard on his lips (they still need to practice). 

Terra in the meantime glides his fingers up and down her back. Her scar is as long as the list of consequences that could all be traced back to his mistakes. Longer than that - as long as a trail that would lead out the bedroom.

The one under her breast splays like a mess of bare branches in the dead of winter, and he holds his palm there firmly, like he’s trying to keep them from ripping more.

How does he tell her with anything but words that he didn’t quite understand the extent of pain, of how far it could go, until he was possessed? 

Is there such a thing as a hug comforting enough or a held hand loving enough to measure that? 

His hands go to her hips, and squeeze what plumpness she has. He lets her make the decision to rock against his pelvis. Only then does he apply the pressure, make her pant against him.

Terra becomes more impatient, and he kneads her with both hands, starting with her ass before climbing up, taking notice of how her nipples harden under his palms.

The kiss breaks with her smile. 

“What?” 

Aqua is already red from the flush, but now she’s worse for wear and she’s trying to hide it. “Your hands are so big.”

“They are?” He doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Her breasts fit his palms just fine, supple and round. Letting one go, he tests the size by comparing it to her face; it covers everything, from his wrist on her chin to the fingers digging into her hairline, his palm taking up the entire space across her cheeks that he can only see dashes of her eyebrows. “They are.”

She chuckles into his hand, giving it a quick peck before caressing it. Her breath composes itself, and her smile is content. Her gaze is full of light, welcoming him in, and it makes him feel protected. Safe enough to surrender. Maybe even forgiven. She’s about to come back down, and they can continue. He can let her shine on him, let himself go and forget all about this horrible morning-

A knock on the door. “Aqua?”

Aqua sits straight up. Immediately clamps down on Terra’s mouth with her hand. 

Everything suddenly… slams to a stop, and Terra’s erection writhes, begging. 

Worst timing, Ven. 

“Y-yes?” Aqua calls.

Terra stares at her with bulging eyes. Please don’t leave me like this.

She smirks.

“Terra’s not in his room,” Ven says through the door. “And I’m hungry.”

“Okay-”

Terra bucks up against her, gnawing at her toned thigh. It makes her gasp and wrestle with a smile.

“I’ll be right out, Ven,” she says, trying so hard not to choke on a laugh. She gives Terra a sympathetic smile, and quickly, silently pecks his lips before peeling off of him and pulling him out of bed.

His sternum grows stones and they all sink to his stomach. 

Pushing him into her bathroom, she scrambles to pick up all of his items of clothing: his pants, shirt, briefs… is that everything? Yes. She throws them in a heap against his body before quietly turning the knob and closing it.

Her bathroom is chillier than the bedroom, and Terra rests his back against her closed door, grimacing.

Rustling behind him - she hurries to get dressed, calling out a You can come in, Ven, before turning her attention to her bed sheets. 

“Sorry,” she says as footsteps approach her.

Terra keeps his breath steady and inaudible - but it’s so hard. Really. He’s still ready to go, the throbbing in his groin becoming agonizing. It tingles like an interrupted sneeze - worse than that, like a desperate itch with an uncomfortable squeeze - and he pushes and stretches his shaft to make it uncomfortable, just so it would calm down. 

It doesn’t calm down. Why.

“I overslept,” Aqua continues.

Without a pause, Ven says, “So you must have really slept well, that’s great news!”

Terra swallows a groan.

Aqua rustles some more. He imagines she’s nodding, trying to find the right words. “It does feel good.”

“Do you know where Terra is?” the twerp says.

Terra will tell him where Terra is. Terra flips the shower on, only the cold knob. His erection needs it.

There’s an uncomfortable pause from the other side of the door, and Aqua has stopped making her bed.

“Is that him using your shower?” Ven asks.

“His isn’t working.” She sounds so confident.

There’s another pause - something about it, maybe the way Aqua finishes her words so trepidly, that makes the silence seem longer even though it isn’t.

“It smells weird in here,” Ven says, slowly.

“Terra is filthy,” Aqua says, like it’s the most obvious answer. “Ven, when I finish getting ready, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Terra is sure she’s probably throwing daggers with her eyes through the door and he grins at the thought. Most of his pranks are usually thought-out and have some figment of imagination, but this has to be his new favorite. 

Cold water stabs at his skin - it’s terrible enough to make him forget every mood he’s experienced since waking up. He picks up her lavender bar of soap. It smells so different than on her skin, and it invigorates all of his senses. He never thought he’d get the chance to. But here he is, in her shower, covered by a turquoise curtain and seeing how neatly her toiletries line up. 

Ven must have left by now, because Aqua knocks on the door, telling him where she’ll be… after breakfast they’ll all be outside to shovel snow from the lower windows and pathways… have a snow fight, that will be fun… and maybe she’ll see him later? There’s hope in her voice, shyness even. 

~*~*~*~*~

Outside, he can’t help but stare at the way the sun gleams off of the snow. He has to shield his eyes from the way it blinds him, and yet it makes him grin from ear to ear. 

Consider how much better it is than a decade of nothingness.

They were absolutely buried last night, but they all survived.

Snow blocks the front and back entrances of the castle, tall enough to reach Terra’s hips. The trees all sag from the weight, and the fields have hills on them now that don’t exist in the spring. 

What a chore though - his friends don’t understand what it takes out of him anymore, now that he’s back in a body he’s lost touch with for years (to the point that he used to forget he ever had one). Shoveling is a skill that demands all the power in his biceps and triceps, his shoulders, his rhomboids, all the way down to the lower back, straining to the point that it feels like a heavy ball is chained into his skin, pulling down. 

At the same time, he sweats profusely underneath all those layers, like he’s trapped in an oven, baking for two hours past the point of well-burnt. It makes him want to strip naked and run down the woods. 

If Aqua and Ven are enjoying the cold in their faces from the exposure, or finding comfort in the heat of their snug clothes… they’re lucky because they can’t compare. They don’t feel as strongly as he does.

Terra hunches over the terrace, staring at the snow gathered along the stone railing. 

He’s on fire.

Freeing his fingers from his gloves and throwing his knit hat off, Terra plants his bare hands into the snow. It stings. Then it burns in a different way, quick to sear. 

“Doesn’t that hurt, Terra?” he hears Ven ask, skipping over to him.

Terra groans. It’s too much - too much cold, too much heat, yes, even from this morning, lingering and gnawing and asking for release… But he can’t think about that or Aqua right now, it will make it worse. It’s all Ven’s fault.

“It’s actually nice,” he mutters, grabbing fistfuls, nearly wanting to plant his face into it. 

“I guess…” Ven means well. He doesn’t understand what it feels like to be a maniac (his words, not Terra’s). “Making a snowman?”

Terra continues to collect the snow into a ball - it’s massive now, definitely fit for a base.

He grins, and the sight of it strikes nervousness into his best friend.

“What are you-”

Whump.

Ven pummels backward, slammed in the face by a mound of snow. It was so large and heavy that Terra had to carry it in both hands, and it buries Ven when he lands.

Spitting snow out of his mouth, Ven’s nose is now red from the cold. “That’s not fair, we aren’t supposed to have a snowball fight yet!”

Not fair was the interruption this morning.

“Better now than never,” Terra says, lightly stomping the ground with his foot. The earth beneath layers of frozen water hears his call. It vibrates, radiating upward, and a wave of snow bursts outward and covers Ven from head to toe.

“You’re crazy!”

Ven crawls out of his frigid entrapment, and Terra prepares another massive heap. Something about this is very gratifying. He should pick on Ven more often. 

“Heads up!” Ven yells.

A tiny snowball that Ven grabbed in a second - inconsequential, honestly, in comparison to the boulder Terra has now - strikes Terra on the neck.

It’s just the thing to take the beast down.

Snow runs down his inner coat, like a million needles pricking all those sore muscles that got a beating earlier from shoveling. They tense up until they’re hard as bone. It’s cold. Shit.

Terra falls on his knees, beating his shoulder to warm it up as much as possible, but it only gives the snow momentum to scuffle into his pants.

“Aaaaaaaaand,” Ven boasts, “he’s down.”

Terra staggers, the snow burning his hip and trickling down his thigh. He manages to stay on his feet, his skin getting numb. Then he lunges forward.

Ven shrieks and laughs, taking off, running as fast as he can from big, bad Terra. He’s much faster than either of them, yet they sometimes forget. 

Terra underestimates Ven all the time, who is now disappearing into a thicket, but he doesn’t care. Running pumps blood into the right head. The wind brushes through his hair and it chills him all the more, overwhelming with the smell of fresh air, the sting of the light reverberating off of the whiteness, the unresolved frustration, the bead of sweat which has frozen itself on his forehead.

But more than the fact that Terra feels too much is that he’s tired. Sprinting can only get him so far (or so near, compared to how fit he used to be before the fall). He’s quick to lose stamina, and his foot sinks deep into a pot of loose snow. He trips, landing face first. 

It’s cold and it burns, but Terra is relieved from all other sensations just the same.

~*~*~*~*~

Now he can’t shake off the shivers.

Aqua sets a hearth ablaze in the fireplace, a haven within the library on the first floor, close to the doorway which would eventually lead to the dining room. Everything about the bottom floor is situated like a home fit for a family. It’s expansive, where all the hallways interconnect so no one can get lost. It’s where all the pleasant memories live. 

This isn’t the place where they had their first kiss, though. Nothing on the first floor can hide. 

Terra rests on the lounge chair, a massive thing that swallows anyone smaller than him in a dark forest green. It looks black now that the sun has dipped behind the mountains so early today.

It’s a deep enough color to hide all the torture that three rambunctious children have whipped on the poor thing. Terra has a faint memory of where the stains might be, but he can’t find any.

The fire isn’t enough. Terra has an ocean blue blanket to boot, wrapped around his shoulders. Aqua’s. She’s always been the neatest of the three, so he can’t imagine this would have any evidence of foul play.

The door behind him creaks and he hears soft, bare footsteps approaching him. Unlike her, sound doesn’t really make him nervous. 

But having her near him does. Always has, and maybe always will. 

“Doing better?” She puts a warm hand on his forehead for the fifth time that evening to check for a fever. She was the one to find him slumped and groggy in the snow outside. Of course. “You’re still cold,” she mumbles.

At her touch, his heart beats obnoxiously for his attention, like a shrill child being purposefully ignored. Look, look, she’s touching us!

He groans. 

“No, you’re not okay?”

“I am,” he says. “I just hate how I’m feeling.” 

Aqua grins, taking a seat on his armrest, bringing one bare leg to her chest. She’s wearing shorts, and Terra takes a quick glance over. A baggy sweater covers most of her body, and his heart is now thrashing, knowing exactly what it looks like underneath. 

But it’s her eyes that hold him still.

“You’ll get used to it,” she reassures him, nodding into her knee.

That’s usually her answer, and she’s right: the day he came back, the minty taste of mouthwash burned a hole through his jaw, and he had yelled from the pounding in his ears. You’ll get used to it. 

Now, it just gives him a tense headache. See? 

It’s her confidence that he finds so comforting - like she knows all these hyper-feelings will sort themselves out if he gives it another day (or week, or month). After all, she has said before, he’s been out of commission for so long.

Terra wonders if she’s ever said that to herself, night after night in the Realm of Darkness. It’s okay to be alone right now, I’ll get used to it. 

Aqua does such a fantastic job holding it together, even late in the night, when he almost expects her break. She never does. How does she do that?

Love is such a strong word to use, but it’s the truth. 

Terra knew it as a child. Aqua had begged him to play a tea party with her, under very specific conditions: she was the lady knight and he was the princess. She made him wear an apron and a paper tiara to play the part. As much as he begrudged the idea, the moment she told him he was holding the teacup wrong, he knew - he was going to marry her. 

Adults would say that children wouldn’t know any better, but child-Terra knew his heart, and he knew it would never change.

He loves her now, as vibrant as the forest becomes the moment the rain hits. One day, he’ll get used to the feeling and won’t feel the need to cry at the thought.

He thinks about telling her what his last thoughts were, right at the moment he lost it all: her cerulean eyes. How there is the faintest sliver of amethyst in them if they reflect off the sun at just the right angle if he was close enough to see, like a secret jewel nestled in the shallow water of a beach...

“You’re right, I will,” he mutters.

“No more knocking yourself out in the wild?” She chuckles. “Please don’t worry me like that again.”

“I won’t, I’m sorry.”

She hums. “It’s nothing to be sorry about.”

There’s a lot to be sorry for. 

Terra’s eyes fall for just a second. He can’t kick the habit of struggling with his own existence sometimes, but she finds reason after reason inside that insane mind of hers to smile when she looks at him. She forgives him way too many times, and it makes that small girl who barked at him for sipping his tea too loudly at a dainty party seem so distant.

Aqua brushes the tips of her fingers on his knuckles, leaning forward. “I’m…” Stopping herself, she searches the carpet for something to say, anxiety creeping into her face. Try as she might to say more, she can’t bring herself to. She’s chipping. 

Terra turns his palm over to take her hand in his. She’s the one to thread their fingers together.

He doesn’t know why everything knots in his throat either, too apprehensive to come out. Love is a strong word to say after years apart. He’ll let her say it first, lest he scares her more.

If she ever does. Though he’s not scared of it himself. 

The sound of footsteps approach from the hallway, and Aqua releases him before straightening herself out.

Terra’s heart sinks at the silence that crashed between them, uninvited. It drowns when it gets to his stomach, but it will breathe eventually. 

“Chicken soup for the big loser,” Ven announces, rolling a cart with a boiling pot behind him. There’s a stack with three bowls, and spoons. 

Terra and Aqua don’t say anything back, readjusting their posture and pretending that nothing has occurred this moment, this day, or last night. Terra brings his fingers - the ones she held - to his lips. They’ve made contact for so little that he can’t smell her scent on them, but her warmth lingers.

Ven’s about to tease some more when he glances at each of them. “Am I… interrupting something?”

“Not at all, Ven,” Aqua says sweetly, composed. She approaches his work, all the pieces that have crumbled away coming back to her. “It smells delicious.”

Ven tosses a pout at Terra, who’s uncharacteristically quiet in the vicinity of savory food, but Terra gives back a reassuring smile. It’s dimmer than he wants it to be, and Ven’s smart enough to notice it, but he says nothing. 

The rest of the evening passes with pleasant conversations, as it goes:

They have never found a good enough reason to talk about anything else. Why bring the darkness back inside when they make a habit of lighting all the lamps at night?

In every case when one of them is ready to talk, they lock up. Swallow. Cough. Next question.

Pleasantness has its tremendous advantages, as it reminds them the worth of being alive: the warmth of drinking this wonderful soup together, the joy of sharing a joke, the thrill of panicking over the thought that Ven could catch Terra and Aqua in the middle of a compromising position. 

They belong together, the three of them. Wayfinders were specifically made for that pact, and that’s something Terra would never trade anything for... he just wants something more from Aqua, and that shouldn’t break the delicate balance between the three. It shouldn’t, and maybe he’s still naive to think that way.

When the evening sweeps into night, Terra falls into a slightly different dance with Aqua. Lingering looks across the hall, right over Ven’s head, followed by nervous chuckles, with the grand finale of never whispering about what they would do before bed (if they’re going to bed together at all).

And when Ven finally retires to sleep, it’s just the two of them, with nothing left except to improvise. 

Nothing in their timid conversations gives Terra the right opening to bring the subject up. 

He’s ready to expect it’s just him and his hand tonight when Aqua holds his wrist to keep him from returning to his room alone. 

“Do you want to…” Aqua hushes. She brings her hand up to brush her hair out of her face but it stops right before contact, like she’s lost the way. “Um…”

“Sleep with you?” Terra blurts out.

A shocked grin stretches across her face.

He stammers, running a hand through his hair.

There’s nothing wrong with sleeping with her - in fact, the night they came home, they all slept in the same bed, just so they didn’t have to be separated.

Terra’s being dumb - of course sleeping has a different connotation now, even between best friends. Why is it so awkward to bring it up in conversation? It was so much easier this morning when they woke up naked and could do what was natural from there.

Leaning on her door frame, bringing himself closer to her body, Terra braves what’s really on his mind. 

“I- I’ve been thinking about it all day… I want to kiss you again.”

Aqua considers him for a moment. She stands on her toes and brings her mouth to his for a small peck, for a second, for a third, longer one. 

She eyes Ven’s closed bedroom door nervously - it’d be a hell of an explanation if he catches them now. 

So Terra steps into her bedroom, barely illuminated by a single desk lamp that’s living its final days, and she closes it behind him. 

Whipping around, Aqua throws her arms around Terra’s neck, aching for a fourth kiss and so many more that neither of them can keep count. Terra squeezes her waist to his body, bending over to meld her to him while she digs into his hair.

Somehow, holding her this closely isn’t close enough. 

When Terra massages the small of her back, it rustles her sweater so that his fingers make contact with her skin. 

Aqua takes this as her cue, tugging at his shirt. She breaks contact (for an excruciating second) to pull it over his head and he responds in kind by undressing her sweater and tossing it. 

With her bare, soft, springy breasts against his chest, he tastes her lips, her tongue… They have to pant for breath in between but they can’t take the hint to pause. And yet - 

They still aren’t close enough.

Terra picks her up by her thighs, wrapping her legs around his hips to carry her. She buries her face in his shoulder to muffle a laugh, and she yelps when they fall together, bouncing on her bed.

With her head against her mattress, he can now kiss her deeper. His pajamas are so thin he can feel her pelvis in every way when he thrusts and he’s dying to take them off but he doesn’t want to part from her mouth either.

They’re running fast, desperate to finish what they couldn’t from this morning, and he doesn’t know what he should do next - if he should be focusing on some area on her body, or if she’d like him to do something and he’s not understanding what she needs. 

So Terra slows down, savoring her bottom lip, bringing the whirlwind to a breeze, letting them both breathe easier. 

He grazes her jawline and she trembles when he gets to her ear, lingering at a spot he discovers really makes her shiver. She squirms like she finds his lack of speed unbearable, grinding her hips up onto his. He groans. 

She still makes a point to whisper. “On your back.”

So bossy. Terra stops to snort. “Those are fighting words.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You first,” he says, his voice rough.

“I mean it.” 

Aqua’s hands push against his shoulders, massaging every curve in his pecs, and her legs wrap around his as she makes the first attempt to roll him over.

“Terra.” Her breaths deepen when he stays in place.

“I insist.” 

He isn’t going to let her make him the focus of all her attention just yet - and they both know she’s always lost at wrestling with him. 

She tries her game anyway, lifting herself to reunite his lips with hers while they sit up.

Both options are tempting. Terra can surrender to her, melt under her touch so she can have her way, and let her think she’s won. That’s a nice fantasy… but he doesn’t like losing either.

He laughs into her smile, grabbing her wrists and bringing them over her head. He holds them together in between the thick fingers of one giant hand, and brings her weight down with his. He’s won, easily.

Then he takes his other hand to brush his fingers across one nipple, from top to bottom, while his lips find a good spot on her neck that makes her whimper. She rocks her hips with his, coaxing him into a slow, intoxicating rhythm. Her shorts are also thin, and she’s wet through the fabric. It sets him on fire, sparking from his pelvis and burning up to his chest. It’s so hard to resist her. 

“What are you doing,” he murmurs, and he feels her giggle from underneath her pulse. 

“Playing a strategy.” She gasps and tenses from his nibbling. “I think I’m winning.”

Traveling down her collarbone, Terra finds himself at her breasts, taking his first taste for the night while rolling circles on the other, eliciting a moan from her - one she keeps stifled, so she’s not too loud.

“Not yet,” he says.

“Give it time,” she says, bringing one leg to hook around Terra’s hips.

Terra growls into her skin. She’s making it difficult.

She’s winning.

“Dammit, Aqua,” he whispers into her chest before standing up, taking her shorts and panties with him before fumbling with his pants. 

Pleased with herself, Aqua rises to meet him, a hand snaking down his abdomen, playing with the tuft of hair before going lower. 

He’s weak when she strokes him, when she grabs him, when she rubs the entire length, twisting her hold. She’s a quick study, and the gooseflesh crawling all over his back slips him into a stupor. He tumbles over the bed. His pants bind him by the knees still, but they’re forgotten. 

Straddling him, Aqua settles. Slowly, too - she’s adjusting herself to him before taking him fully, and if he didn’t know any better, it feels like the sweetest, sickest comeback for teasing her so bad.

A shiver strikes through his spine when he gets warm and she gets tight. He has to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning out loud. 

Meanwhile, Aqua experiments with her movement, her angles, her speed, whether she should rock her hips back and forth. She looks good on top of him, naked and bouncing and enjoying herself, running her palms across his carved abs, feeling the ripples where his skin dips. Something about the way she leans her head back sends Terra on a high. 

His hands feel everything. He measures how her waist curves inward before following the trail out to her hips. The muscles on her thighs buck with every thrust she makes.

It doesn’t matter how she looks: with or without clothes, in bright light or in poor light, even with shadows chiseling her amazing form, none of it does her any justice. 

She’s beautiful. He’s lucky. 

The more she moves, the more he comes closer to that brink, and he’s too drunk to find the words to tell her. The best he can do is moan her name, and when she gently shushes him, it turns him on even more.

But then his heart beats too hard. It stings as sharp as a cut.

The monster with the sharp canines smiles. Snaps its jaws.

The brink will make him fall over (and never get back up again). He’ll die. No. He’ll lose control. Go to sleep. Lose her forever, all over again. 

Terra grips her hips and lifts her off of him. “No no no no,” he says, lurching up, leaning over the edge of the bed. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Terra?”

He shudders from the heat rising to the top of his head. His hands tremble violently, and he rubs the pads of his fingers against his palms to make sure he can still feel. Gritting his teeth together, Terra takes all he has to stop himself from yelling - no need for Ven to spring out of bed and burst in here to save the day - and the effort withers Terra to exhaustion. 

Aqua holds the back of his hand - very gently, brushing her fingers first to test if he’d have a strong reaction. He realizes that he never responded to her. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Terra holds her face, stroking the worries off of her cheek with his thumb. “You were,” he swallows. Even in such dim light, her eyes keep their rich brightness. “You’re perfect.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him. A dark thought trickles in his mind, and suddenly he can’t look at her anymore - she must be so disappointed with his awful performance.

“I’m just a basket case, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t say that.” She gifts him the most generous smile, one he doesn’t understand. But that’s Aqua, never asking for something in return. 

She hugs him warmly, giving his shoulders a steady hold as if to keep him up. 

Despite how big of a man Terra is, now he is fragile, wilting into her strength. He wants to be more like her, to keep himself together. Silent tears stroll down his cheeks until they land on her bare shoulders and continue on their way.

With his palm, Terra rubs their existence off of her skin. 

A much-needed chill comes down his spine - she’s cooling him off with her magic, letting the Blizzard gently wisp off of her fingers. 

“Can you talk about it?” Letting him go, Aqua throws her feet over the edge of the bed to join him, side by side. 

Terra cannot. He stares at his knees, throwing glances at her to create words out of thin air. 

Aqua threads her hand under his arm to interlace their fingers together, resting them on his thigh. Her hand is so small in comparison, but in Terra’s opinion, it’s a perfect fit. 

“I think I have an idea of what happened,” she says when she’s waited long enough. “Even when we spar, you don’t let yourself go all the way.”

Feeling like he’s finally seen, Terra unravels. “What if I lose it and go crazy? What if I hurt you?”

She eyes him for a moment. At first she’s full of concern, but she’s the type that when she faces anything that intimidates her, she’ll find a reason to stay brave. “Then I retaliate. I’m good at that.”

It sounds like such a simple and logical answer that Terra can’t help but feel silly for never considering that she’s stronger than he is. 

Yet there’s plenty to worry about - she deserves a better lover that wouldn’t have fits in the worst of times, or threaten to kill her in the best.

“I know,” she continues when he says nothing. “It’s weird to have good things.”

Terra huffs. Drawing his voice low, he says, “Aren’t we supposed to tell ourselves that we deserve them?” She shifts uncomfortably against his arm, and he chuckles cynically. “Maybe we can hope.”

“No,” she drawls, rubbing circles on his knuckles with her thumb. “Hoping is dangerous.”

The scar on his chest is rough under the touch of his palm. Those have been the truest words he’s heard in years, and they worry him. If they continue to try again, he’ll continue to dissatisfy her, with no guarantee he could give her what she wants. 

“It feels like,” he says, “willingly jumping off a mountain.”

Aqua leans her head on his shoulder, watching the stillness of her carpet with him. It’s as dark as the deep sea. 

“It does. We’re supposed to stay optimistic, and the letdown destroys us until it numbs. And then there’s nothing left.”

“And then there’s nothing left,” Terra whispers back.

“Wishing is a little safer.” He feels her smile into his bicep. 

“That’s more like willingly drowning yourself.”

“Taking one swallow isn’t too bad by comparison,” she says, squeezing his hand harder. Her cheek trembles, and her eyes dart back and forth across the room. She’s chipping again. “Can I make one wish?”

“Of course.”

It takes quite a moment before she speaks again, and all he hears is her ragged breathing. It almost sounds like she’s about to cry, but she doesn’t. She’s a miracle.

“I wish for a good night’s sleep. I wish you’d stay in bed with me. I wish for more time with you, and… I wish you’d come back tomorrow night. Or maybe I could go to your room. Either way, I don’t want us to stop.”

Since he’s been expecting her to wish him away, Terra chokes on a sob. He wants the same, and he wants to say it, and he wants to kiss her again but he’s shocked. If he slips one word, he’ll fall apart and she’ll have to carry him all over again.  

He squeezes her hand back, and all the tears wanting to pour out of his eyes find their place in the strength of his grip, and they stay dry. 

As though she understands what he’s not saying, she smiles. “It’s a journey, just like everything else, right? I think there’s every reason to step off that cliff, and I want to be there with you when we do.”

Terra sits with her words, comfortable in the quiet. It’s not like they had a teacher to coax them in the right direction about the art of tumbling in bed. In the privacy of his mind, he can pretend the reason she’s willing to be patient is because she loves him, too. 

“I needed to hear that,” he says, his pajamas slipping off of his ankles. He’s completely exposed but his skin is just the outer shell. The fact his soul has been heard is the most naked he’s ever been. “I’m impressed.” 

Aqua holds her breath. “You’re impressed? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He stifles his snickering but it only makes it harder not to laugh. 

“Nevermind, don’t answer that,” she says, giving him a playful shove. “I know I put my foot in my mouth, sometimes.” 

“Sometimes.” 

“Which means I’m sensible other times.” She holds up a finger to make a point.

Terra lifts the hand he’s holding and kisses the back of it. She’s still so much like the girl who glared at him when he slurped his tea. “Whatever you say, I’ll play along.”

She shoves him harder and finds herself in his clutches, under threat of unbearable tickling. She locks her laughter up so hard that it slips out in squeaks. Without her magic, she’s completely futile against his ferociously giant hands. She admits defeat when they fall on their backs. 

Now they rest, and she’s finally close enough, their bodies locking warmth in between.

They whisper good night through soft, innocent kisses. Aqua finds refuge on his shoulder while her arms go limp on his thick waist, one leg tucked in between his, burrowing her body into his. Every time she drifts in and out and remembers that he’s with her, she inches closer.

How she wants to be near him this much blows his mind. He tells himself he’ll get used to it. 

Her breathing slows as he rubs circles on her back, and soon enough, she’s asleep, like she knows nothing except a world without nightmares or shadows. 

It’s been a long time since he’s thought about when they first started sparring - how they paused before striking, how they confused a cue for another and hit each other when they weren’t supposed to, how they bickered and teased when the course of the game adjusted to their skill level. They didn’t know what they were doing then.

Last night, she gave him the benefit of the doubt, too, telling him all they need is practice. 

Now’s the perfect time than ever - Terra whispers into her hair until he finds it easier to say, knowing she won’t hear him until he’s ready to face her.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I SWEAR this will end happily. I swear it. To be continued.

[kayteewritessteve]

DT - Drunk Twitter 1/3

Description: One stupid drunken night leads to an uncomfortable week from hell. That only gets worse when you are forced to face the problems, that your drunken escapades caused, head on. Yeah, you are never going to drink ever again.

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 8,380 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Lots of curse words, awkward moments, and a slightly frustrated reader. Little angst here and there, but lots of stupid humour.

Requested: Nah, this just randomly popped into my head and I ran with it.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

You groan loudly as your hand flails out from under your duvet cocoon, blindly searching for the hellish contraption that currently insists on screaming at you. It is far too early for such an ungodly sound, and you are far too hungover for this shit right now.

Your hand finally makes contact with the screeching little asshole that is your alarm clock, causing a loud smash to echo through the room, just from the sheer force of your flailing limb alone. And then instantly your room falls back into silence once again. Though the constant ringing in your ears, both from the alarm and your hangover, makes that last fact slightly unknown to you in this moment.

You groan, grumbling incoherently as you pull your hand back into the warmth of the little blanket bundle that has now become your life. You plan to spend the rest of your days just hiding in this dark little cove, and then eventually one day dying here. Which from the aches and pains wreaking havoc on you currently, might be sooner, rather than later.

Why the hell did you drink so much?! Who let you polish off two bottles of wine last night?! Like, where the hell was your adult?! Clearly from this day forward you’d need someone to constantly make life choices for you, so that you never ended up in this position ever again.

You vow in this exact moment, that from this day on you will never ever drink again.

But then you remember your best friend's birthday is in 2 weeks, and you groan loudly. Okay, so you kinda have to drink for that, but mark your words now, that will be the very last time that you do!

Your phone buzzes on your bed beside you, lighting up the dark little fortress you’ve created around yourself. And whelp, looks like you never plugged it in last night. You’re honestly surprised it’s even still alive. You’d have to write a tweet to Apple about how their phone actually made it 24 hours on one charge. You’re sure that’s something they’d like to know about, as that was a highly uncommon thing to actually happen.

You reach over to grab your phone, picking it up and bringing it close to your face, before hissing at the brightness and yanking it away with such force you’re surprised you didn’t fling it across the room. You squint your eyes as you fumble to turn the brightness down, and once you successfully have you bring the screen back to you. Directly in front of your face so your blurry, dry eyes can actually read it.

And instantly you gasp loudly, your eyes watching as notification after notification pops up on your lock screen. Your twitter is blowing up right now and a cold sweat promptly rips through you. Because oh God, did you do it again?! Did you seriously post something while stupidly drunk again?!

Fuck. You groan, unlocking your phone quickly to check. Because for some ungodly reason, drunk you always insisted on posting the stupidest tweets. Normally you’d wake up the next morning, hungover and a little closer to death than the day before, and you’d open your twitter to find all the ridiculous shit you’d posted about, the previous night. Usually all of which only had maybe a retweet or two, a couple likes and usually at least one comment—thanks to your lovely best friend. Her comments normally consisting of both laughing at you and calling you out for being a crazy drunk tweeter. She just knew you and your quirks far too well. It was seriously a problem.

But this time, this time was clearly entirely different. However that was just an educated guess, due mainly to the hundreds of notifications that you now had, thanks to whatever your dumb drunk ass had posted, which had obviously blown up. And now you’d be lucky if you could sweep it under the rug like you’d always done in the past.

Oh God, please don’t let it be another praising tweet to some figure head or celebrity. That seemed to be your go to favourite thing to drunk-tweet. You had this weird need to cheer random strangers up when you were drunk. This insistent desire to support and appreciate the people you idolized. Oh please God say you didn’t tag the person the tweet was about this time.

Your shaky thumb clicks the iconic blue and white, Twitter app icon. Completely ignoring the ridiculous number in the little red circle on the icons top right corner, as you do. You haven’t even read the tweet yet and already you’re freaking the fuck out.

You quickly make your way to your profile and your eyes widen at the insanely large rant, that’s continued through multiple separate tweets, and is now sitting at the top of your page. Your eyes skim over them all, in order of posting, and you cringe, truly and utterly mortified now.

‘Do you ever just hear of someone in passing, or see them in the media, and have this instantaneous deep longing emotion within you. Not a longing in the sense of wanting them, but entirely due to hoping with everything inside you that they find their true happiness one day..’

‘..‪That they wake up in a few years and smile, like truly smile, because they are exactly where they wanted to be. Where they deserved to be. That they’d ended up with every desire they had yearned for. And I’m not talking about material objects. I’m talking life goals and accomplishments..’‬

‪‘..I’m talking about the true important aspects of life. The things that actually matter in the grand scheme of it all. Well, that is how I feel whenever someone brings up Steve Rogers. Or whenever I see an article or a news story about him. I instantly have this desperate want for him..’‬

‪‘..to be happy. Truly and utterly happy. The man deserves exactly that, and yet so much more. What with everything he has done for us and this planet. If anyone in this world has earned their happily ever after, it’s that man.’ ‬

‪Oh God. You groan, as your free hand comes up to cover your face in sheer horror and embarrassment. I mean, at least the silver lining here is you didn’t make any major spelling mistakes, and you also luckily, completely forget to actually tag him in it. So those are both small victories, in and of themselves. ‬

‪But the fact parts of that rant had blown up, regardless of you actually tagging him, is a little disheartening. You’re pretty sure he’s either seen it or been informed about it by now. And even if by the off chance he hasn’t, you know it’s only a matter of time before that changes. ‬

‪You scroll through the notifications and you feel your heart stop, as all the blood leaves your body and goes—honestly who knows where it goes, but it definitely doesn’t stick around to be apart of this train wreck of a situation. You abruptly sit up, the blankets falling from your upper body and pooling around your waist now.

‪Tony Stark retweeted your post. ‬

‪5 little words that make you want to delete every social media account you currently have, plus move to ‬Lesotho or something. Never heard of Lesotho? Well, that’s exactly why you’d picked to move there. Because most people don’t really know it even exists, nor where to find it on a map. So it would be the perfect place to hide away, and start a new life under a fake name.

Yup, it’s settled. Pack your bags, we’re moving to Lesotho!

You don’t even have it in you to read Mr. Starks response back to your tweets, nor dig any further into your notifications to see who else may have retweeted this whole mess. God, what is wrong with yo—

Your phone ringing scares the complete shit out of you, damn near chucking the metal brick across your room, for the second time this morning if anyone is keeping tabs, as your heart thumps loudly in your chest. However, you manage to keep a firm grip on your phone, but just barely. Effectively saving the thing from an untimely death, thanks to being forcefully introduced to your bedrooms brick wall.

Though come to think of it, maybe smashing it would be the best option here?

You sigh deeply as you finally notice it’s your best friend calling, a groan leaving your throat as you then instantly realize that she is probably calling thanks to your stupid Drunk Twitter rant. You contemplate not answering for a second, you could pretend you’re still asleep. But you know she’ll just keep calling until you answer, or worse, she’ll just show up at your house and let herself in with her spare key. Then you won’t have the luxury of hanging up on her if her teasing gets to be too much.

So as you click the answer button and hesitantly raise the phone to your ear, you prepare yourself for your incoming humiliation. I mean, more so than your already currently experiencing. Which is both surprising and frustrating, because who knew you could ever be this mortified in real life? You certainly didn’t, but yet here you are.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Lindsey’s loud voice mixed with her unabashed laughter rings out of the phones speaker, it’s so loud that you instantly yanked the phone away from your ear. Your headache coming back tenfold as you groan loudly and message the side of your skull.

“Giiiiirl!!” She hollers now, and so lustrously that you can hear her perfectly, even with the phone still being nowhere near your ear. “What the hell were you drinking last night? And where can I get me some!”

You grumble out a, “you need to lower your voice or I’m hanging up on you.”

“Awe, is someone a little hungover today?” She coos in a motherly voice, though at a much quieter level now, at least enough to warrant putting the phone back to your ear once again. However her voice may be softer now, but the playful and teasing edge to her tone is as loud as a freaking bomb.

“More like dead,” you mumble falling back down to lay on your bed and slinging your free arm over your eyes. “Or at least I wish I was.”

Her gleeful cackle rings out of the phones speaker now. “Girl, don’t say that! I’d miss you too much, and you’re fucking famous now!”

You just groan, not even remotely interested in what she means by that.

“Oh, and why am I famous now, Lindsey?” She says in a mocking tone, clearly trying to impersonate you, but in your opinion not coming anywhere close. “It’s so wonderful you should ask Y/N! Probably because your tweets are all over the news stations, social media and the internet. Even most of the Avengers have already retweeted it, most notably Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson AND Bucky Barnes. Ya know, all of Steve Roger’s best friends. But yet, no one has commented on whether the recipient of your beautiful drunken words has actually seen it or not. Buuuuut we can all assume he probably has.”

“Can we just not do this today?” You roll onto your side, your free hand now pulling the duvet up and over your head again. “I am in far too much pain and far too humiliated to be having this conversation right now. Can we please, for the love of all things that are holy, talk about something else? Anything else, I beg you!”

“Hell no!” She exclaims, you wincing at the abrupt volume change. “My best friend is famous! And all because she drank too much wine and tweeted a ridiculously sweet rant about thee Captain America! Honestly, this. Is. Just. Too. Damn. Good.” She squeals, “you can’t even write better shit than this!”

“Lindsey,” you groan, “I am way too hungover and under caffeinated for this right now. Seriously, I’m going to hang up now and hopefully fucking die.”

“Fine, fine,” she relents but you can still hear the humour in her voice, “I promise I’ll drop it, for now. But get your sexy ass out of that bed and meet me in the kitchen STAT.”

“Uuugh,” you drag the sound out. “You’re freaking in my house right now, aren’t you?”

“I am,” she says gleefully. “But before you flip shit, don’t. I brought coffee and bagels, so be a good girl and get your ass out here or I’m going to eat all of it myself.”

You don’t even respond as you hang up the phone, she had you at ‘coffee’. You quickly flip the blankets off yourself and roll out of bed. Not even bothering to check yourself out in the mirror because honestly, Lindsey has seen you at your worst. So she is entirely used to this from you.

You trudge your way out to the kitchen, seeing your best friend pulling wrapped food from a brown bag and you groan again, but this time happily. Her eyes dart up to you and she gives you a once over, a small frown on her lips now.

“Oh boo thang, you look horrendous,” she says softly, sweetly, as you reach her, and she hands you the large to go cup of coffee. “Drink this. Then go jump in the shower, you stink like shame and poor life choices,” she scrunches up her nose playfully.

“I honestly don’t think a shower will remove those particular smells from my skin. I think that’s just my natural scent now,” you giggle as you take a deep waft of the glorious life juice’s warm aroma, a content sigh coming out on the exhale. You bring the drink to your lips and almost moan. Yes, you are this much of a coffee nut. You take a few generous gulps then stumble over to the counter stools and plop down. “But a shower does sounds like a good plan,” you nod, the cup staying close to your mouth for quick and easy access.

She hums in agreement, nodding as she hands you a wrapped up bagel. “So, should we talk about what caused you to want to get ‘Sappy Drunk Tweets’ wasted last night or?”

You sigh, “I just had a shit day at work. My boss was a raging asshole, yet again.” You shake your head, “but what’s new?”

“I can not stand that evil little man!” Your friend growls. “You seriously need to find a new job, Y/N. You can’t keep working for that piece of shit anymore. And I honestly don’t think your poor liver can take much more of these semi frequent beatings. Somethings gotta change.”

“I know, I know,” you nod, “I’ve been searching for something else, but there just isn’t many available jobs at the moment. But I’m hopeful I’ll find something soon.” You take another large gulp of the sweet, sweet liquid gold, feeling as the warmth radiates throughout your whole body, as your brain slowly begins to rejoin the land of the living.

It’s been a few days since your stupid drunken escapades on Twitter, and a few days since Lindsey visited. You both had enjoyed your coffee and bagels, talking about everything and nothing. Luckily she had kept the drunk tweet talk to a minimum, like she promised. And once you were all done that, Lindsey headed off to work and you hopped in the shower, before spending the entire day on your couch, watching movies and pointedly ignoring your phone. Or rather, the never ending string of notifications on said phone.

So now you’ve been basically hiding out since then, only leaving your house to go to work or to make a quick trip to the store down the block from your apartment. The stupid tweets are still blowing up, people are still retweeting them and talking about them.

You’d hoped this would have all blown over by now, that something else ridiculous would have come along and stolen everyone's attention. But alas, you aren’t that lucky. Because not a damn thing is going on in the world right now, obviously, as everyone is still very much hung up on your whole embarrassing sap fest.

So much so that you are being recognized now as the ‘Steve Tweet Woman’. Which is just fucking outstanding—ha! not!

News outlets, websites and talk shows have been blowing up your phone and email, asking for comments or to set up interviews. Wanting to know if anyone from Steve’s camp has reached out to you, or if you’ve been invited to the tower to meet the team. Also asking if you and the Avengers are now friends, or at the very least acquaintances. And those are just a few of the things they are asking you. Honestly, those are the least ridiculous questions—which is freaking sad.

So leaving your house has become a damn chore now, you have to wear a full disguise just in the hopes no one recognizes you. This is not what you wanted at all. Shit, you don’t even know what you wanted from making that tweet, but this for sure was not it. Not even close.

You’d avoided Twitter along with all your social media playforms since that dreadful morning, as well. You were just too overwhelmed with all the notifications and messages you’d been receiving ever since. Far too many to ever read, let alone even keep up with. Nor did you want to see what any of them actually said.

You sigh, trying to focus back on your computer monitor. You were currently at work, hiding out in your cubicle and keeping your head down.

At the moment you worked as a writer for a news and entertainment website, much like Buzzfeed but nowhere near as large or well known—And I know! Ironic right? Uuuugh! Your damn life was just such a joke.

Your cubicle neighbour, Tyler, springs up over your divider wall. His arms resting on the top as his chin sits on them, a small frown on his face. So this obviously isn’t going to be good.

“Do I even want to know?” You ask quietly before he can utter a word.

He sighs, “probably not. But sadly you kinda have to know.”

“Okay,” you spun slightly in your chair to face him fully. “I’m ready, lay it on me.”

“The boss saw your tweets,” he starts and you wince in embarrassment. “He messaged me as your email keeps sending his messages back undelivered. So you should probably check into that, but first, he wants to see you in his office.”

You groan, dropping your forehead onto your desk with a thud, “my email has been so swamped the last few days that I shut down the receiver.”

“Understandable,” he says quietly, and you can hear that the frown is still present on his face.

“Does he want to see me now?” You peek up at him.

He nods, “yeah, said it was urgent.”

“Shit,” you mumble and sit up, grabbing a notebook and pen quickly as you stand from your chair. “Well, wish me luck, hopefully he doesn’t just fire me the second I walk through the door.”

Tyler shakes his head, “he’d be an even bigger idiot than we all currently think he is, if he did that. Don’t sweat it, at worst he’ll probably just throw a tantrum and give you a slap on the wrist.”

“On second thought, I think I’ll just quit instead,” you say playfully as you walk out of your cubicle. Hearing Tyler’s deep chuckle behind you as you do.

“But then who will keep me entertained everyday?”

“You’ll find someone,” you giggle, shrugging. “My replacement, most likely. Though sadly they will never be as awesome as me!”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he agrees as he lowers back down into his chair and you continue on towards your bosses office.

A moment later you find yourself standing outside of his closed door, notepad clutched to your chest. You have no idea what this impromptu meeting will be about, but you can only assume it has something to do with your stupid drunken posts.

You take a deep breath in, raising your fist up to knock on the door. And a moment later hearing a muffled and authoritative, “enter.” God, he really was just such an entitled asshole.

You open the door and peek your head in, “you wanted to see me, Sir?”

He glances up and nods, “ah, Y/N. Yes, come in.”

You quickly open the door and make your way into his office, closing the door and then hastily moving to stand in front of him.

He interlocks his fingers together and rests his hands on his desk, just staring at you. “Why isn’t your email working?”

“Oh, uh,” you shift awkwardly in your spot. “I um, I shut it off for a bit.” You nod, “just till I could get caught up on the emails I already have.”

He raises a brow at you, “your email is being swamped with messages, I take it?”

You nod again, “ah yes, Sir.”

“Does that have anything to do with the tweets you sent out last week?”

You almost groan, almost, but manage to contain it. “It—it does, Sir.”

He nods, glancing to his monitor, “now normally, foolish shenanigans such as this would be grounds for termination. And I was going to fire you for the embarrassment you’ve brought on this company, but I had a change of heart. So you won’t be losing your position just yet.”

You nod slowly, wishing you could give this idiot a piece of your mind. But your need to pay bills and have a job forces you to bite your tongue. “Oh, um, thank you, Sir.”

“But,” he flicks his beady eyes back to you, “you will have to make this up to me.”

You almost gulp, what the hell does that even mean?! “Um, how,” you clear your throat, “how exactly would you like me to do that?”

He leans back in his chair, a smirk on his lips. One that instantly causes a chill to run down your spin, and this time you do gulp. “There is a press conference in 3 days. You are going to attend it on behalf of our website.”

You nod, following along so far, and honestly this doesn’t sound so bad. Getting to be at a conference first hand is a huge accomplishment. Being trusted enough to be the one present is a big deal in this company. Normally only seasoned writers get to attend such functions.

Yet, something about this feels...off. Like there is a shoe about to drop nearby and you can’t shake that thought. “Okay, um of course, Sir. But what is the press release for, exactly?”

His smirk grows into a full blown grin and your heart rate picks up instantly because of it. “I’m so glad you should ask,” he nods, “It's a press conference for the Avengers. They are opening their new facility and are holding a press junket to cut the rope and answer some questions.”

And instantly you choke on air, no joke, then coughing a few times to clear your airway. Because oh fuck. Fuckity fucking fuck fuck. Why you?! Why does life always do this to you?!

“Um, Sir,” you start quietly once you stop coughing. “I don’t um—this is not to say that I’m not completely honoured that you’d choose me for this job. But uh, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to send me to this. Not with everything currently going on, at least.” You swallow thickly, your hands turning clammy as your nerves pick up. “There, ah, there has to be someone more qualified to send to this event. Ya know, someone other than me.”

He shakes his head, “there isn’t. And even if there was, I can’t send anyone else. You were specifically asked for by name, we weren’t even originally supposed to attend this press release. Only larger media outlets were invited.” He opens his top drawer in his desk and pulls out an access pass on a lanyard, holding it out to you. You gingerly step forward to take it then take a few hasty steps back once it’s in your grasp. “You were the only one invited, and were given an all access pass for the whole event.”

You gaped at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as you glance between your boss and the press pass currently in your hand. “But ah,” you shake your head, “why me?”

He shrugs, “probably because of those silly posts you made. You clearly caught someone's attention. So get to work, you have a press conference to prepare for,” he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

But you just stay firmly planted in your spot, “Sir, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Oh but it is.” His eyes shoot to you and narrow, “so you either attend that conference or I’ll fire you. We are making the most out of your blunder here, don’t mess this up. You only have one shot at this, and I expect the article from this to not only be outstanding, but also on my desk Monday morning. This is the break our website needs, but if you aren’t willing to pull your weight and fix your mistakes, then we don’t have a place here for you anymore. So it’s your choice, Miss Y/L/N.”

You sigh defeatedly, and nod, “okay, I’ll do it.”

“I figured you would,” he nods once then turns back to his computer screen. “Close the door behind you.”

You nod, spinning on your heels and exit the room. Shutting the door softly behind you like he’d asked and then heading back to your desk to start preparing for this press conference.

But all you can think about is how truly mortifying this whole week has already been. And it’s clearly only going to get worse from here on out. How do you get yourself into these things? Now someone from the Avengers team has specifically requested that you be there. Great.

Were they planning to embarrass you further? Were they going to make a mockery of you because of a stupid drunken mistake? Were you going to regret accepting this article instead of just quitting?

You glance down at the press pass in your hand and sigh, there is no way to know currently just how this will all play out. But sadly, you’ll be finding out the answers to your questions soon enough. And in a little less than 3 days, at that.

You stand in front of your full length mirror—wearing the seventeenth outfit you’ve tried on so far this morning—and trying desperately to find faults with it. In all honesty, all the outfits you’ve tried on had looked perfectly fine and would have worked. But you were determined to stall, to waste as much time on pointless outfit changes as you could, so that you didn’t have to face your reality.

That reality being that today was the day, today was the Avengers press conference at the new facility. And oh God, how you really did not want to have to do this today.

I mean, the moon wasn’t in the right placement. Nor was Jupiter currently aligned. And your horoscope had warned you about ‘life changing events should you venture out of your box.’ And you could only assume said life changing events weren’t going to be good ones, and this was very much venturing outside of your box. Plus like, you just had this strange gut feeling, something deep inside you telling you that something was going to happen today—And one should always trust their gut in true times of crisis.

So really, that was all to say that this was a horrible idea, and you should probably just stay home. Yeah, it’s settled then, you’ll stay home. That was a much smarter plan for sure.

Your hired car pulls up to the large, intimidating steel and glass structure and you instantly feel like you’re going to puke. And if the hired car didn’t charge you your first born for doing just that, you’d gladly probably have puked in this exact moment. It comes to a stop and you thank the driver before collecting up your belongings and climbing out.

Glancing around you notice a bunch of people hanging about, some with large camera’s around their necks, others with microphones. But all are wearing various passes, some look similar to yours, however none match it entirely. Your hand grabs on to the pass around your neck and pulls it away from your body to examine it more closely.

Yeah, yours is the only one like it, that you can currently see. Which yeah, that’s extremely odd, for sure. You release the pass, letting it fall back to your chest and head towards the check in booth, just wanting to get this all over with so you can promptly go home and die of humiliation in your bed. Alone and away from the world.

You give one of the ladies at the table your full name and instantly notice a wicked smirk appear upon her lips as she hears it. Which honestly can’t be a good sign for what’s to come. No, this is a sign you should probably just leave now. The universe is clearly trying to warn you, but your dumb, job needing ass can’t leave. No matter how much you desperately want to.

She hands you a map, pointing to the location where you will be standing for the conference. Then she points behind herself, in the direction you are to head and you mumble a quick thank you before heading the way she showed you.

As you make your way to the location, you continuously glance between the map in your hands and the area around you. The last thing you need right now is to get lost on this insanely large property, and end up missing the press release all together. Oh God, your boss would pitch a fit if that happened.

Your heels click on the cement ground, thankful you aren’t trudging it through grass at the moment. Heels and grass do not mix, and with your luck you’d probably end up twisting an ankle or snapping a heel. And the last thing you want right now is to draw unwanted attention to yourself. Ya know, more so than you already have.

You glance down at the outfit you’d finally begrudgingly decided on, choosing to stick to basic shades to help you blend in a little better. No fancy or colourful prints or shades today. No, blacks and whites was what you went with. Hoping that most of the other press members would be dressed similarly. And with one glance around you, that hope actually came true.

You’d decided to go with a black pleather pencil skirt, that was form fitting but also flattering to all your softer areas. With a long sleeve white shirt tucked into it, and simple black pumps. It was a pretty basic look, but that’s exactly what you were going for. You wanted to blend in, praying none of the Avengers or press would even noticed you, let alone figured out you were the drunken Twitter tweeter.

God, doesn’t that just sound so stupid? The ‘Twitter tweeter’. Just ridiculous. And to think, this is your life now! This is who you are now. Seriously, the next time you drink, you are going to leave your phone at work. As you clearly can’t be trusted with it when you’re intoxicated.

As you make your way closer to the spot the nice lady had shown you, you realize that you are the only one in this location. All the other press are further down, in front of the stage, whereas your place is off to the side. It has a perfect view of the stage, but there is nothing and no one to hide behind.

You halt your steps, and even though it’s a beautiful sunny day, you feel a cold sweat come on. Are they segregating you? Are they going to make an example out of you? Or treat you like some circus clown?

You know these thoughts are ridiculous, these are world heroes we’re talking about here. Good people who put their lives on the line everyday for everyone else. But maybe they are going to force you into speaking to the press, maybe they are going to use you for good PR. Your stupid tweets are the hot topic at the moment, everyone is wanting the inside scoop on you, your life and your possible new affiliation with the mighty team.

But being in the spotlight isn’t your thing, you like to be unknown, anonymous. Just another face in the crowd. And if this is an ambush, then take you the fuck off that sign up list. You are not interested in this being spun around on you. Fuck that.

You turn on your heel and head back to the main press area, you’d just hide out there amongst all the other reporters and journalists. At least you could hang in the back and keep your head down while you take notes.

You might be overthinking this. Or be acting a little too irrational at the moment. But cut yourself some slack, this week has been hellish and overwhelming, to say the least. And your poor frazzled mind is in overdrive mode, overthinking the smallest things and making you a bit of a basket case. Clearly you don’t handle stressors like this very well. That’s obviously a flaw of yours, but one you very much do not plan on addressing today. Or ever, maybe. But definitely not here and now.

You reach the main press area and tuck yourself into a back row chair, lowering your large black purse onto the ground and digging through it to grab your notebook, recorder, pens and your phone. You’d record the whole press release, taking notes and photos here and there. Then when it was all over you planned to hightail it out of here, long before anyone noticed you. Hopefully. That was the plan anyways.

You glance around, noticing a few nearby press members staring intently at you. God, you hope none of them cause a scene and point you out. You quickly glance up at the stage, seeing that it is still empty and none of the team is up there yet. So you drop your eyes down and decide to just doodle in your notebook till the junket begins.

Time seems to be ticking along at an alarmingly slow pace. Probably just because you are so desperate for this to all be over, therefore it’s doing the opposite now. The minutes currently feeling like hours to you.

Finally, after weeks of waiting—at least you swear it’s been that long. You hear commotion up on the stage, and notice as everyone around you is seated now, taking photos. You grab your phone and flick your eyes up to the stage, seeing the mighty group of heroes slowly ascending the stairs and fanning out on the platform.

You snap a few shots and then prepare your recorder, hitting the button to start it once Tony Stark makes his way to the microphone. You balance the recorder on your left leg, your notebook open on your light and pen at the ready. Your phone sitting in between both legs, fully charged, set to silent and camera app open.

The conference starts with Tony doing a speech, thanking everyone for being here and just general PR stuff. You are sort of paying attention, but also not. You know that you can always listen to the recording later if you miss any part of this conference, so there isn’t a huge weight on you to be fully listening currently.

So instead, you get lost in your own mind, continuing to berate and chide yourself for your horrible life choices. Ya know, all the ones that led up to this very moment. You keep your eyes down for most of the event, only glancing up periodically to snap a few more photos here and there. But then they flick back down to continue doodling in your notebook.

On the plus side, the grassy, flowery meadow you have been drawing this whole time is looking wonderful. Even if it’s only in all blue and black pen ink. But focusing on this is better than possibly locking eyes with the poor victim of your latest drunk tweets. You know he is up there, because they all are. And the last thing you want is to look at him currently. Your immense guilt and humiliation preventing you from even entertaining the idea of ogling the handsome man right now. Not even a little bit, no matter how badly you want to. No matter how much you want to see just how attractive he is in person. You can’t allow yourself to.

You don’t even really deserve to be here right now, the only reason you are, is because drunk you is a sappy asshole. Had you not posted those stupid tweets, you wouldn’t have been invited here today. God, how you wish you had a time machine right now.

You’d made a bunch of mistakes throughout your life, I mean, who hasn’t? But this one was by far the worst, you were definitely paying for this one. Tenfold. Maybe this is the wake up call drunk-you needs though. Hopefully she will have learned her lesson from all of this. Buuuuuut knowing her, probably not.

You sigh, picking up your phone to take a few more photos as the time nears to the official opening of the facility. To the rope cutting, which is the true reason you are all here today. You keep your eyes on your phones screen, but movement off to the side of the stage catches your eyes and they snap from the screen to it.

They lock with a greyish blue set, and you see the owner of said eyes glance over your face momentarily, before a smirk breaks out on his lips. Bucky Barnes aka The Winter Soldier aka Steve Roger’s lifelong best friend. You are currently having a stare off with an ex hydra assassin, and an insanely good one at that.

You are just about to break the eye contact when you notice him elbow the blonde super soldier to his right. Leaning in once he has the other man's attention and whispering something in his ear, before his head nods in your direction. Oh God, this also can’t be fucking good.

The blonde furrows his brows for a moment, his eyes scanning the crowd before they land on you. And the second your eyes meet, you are fucking trapped. Because, Jesus! This man is basically a human bear trap, and your ass just willing stepped right on to it.

Greeeeeat. Now you’re having a stare off with thee Steve Rogers. Just exceptional. Note the extreme sarcasm.

And then you notice as he frowns, most likely now realizing you are the crazy lady who tweeted about him. He snaps his eyes away from you, turning to glare at his best friend. Who only grins wider in return and then shrugs his shoulders before nodding his head to the billionaire at the podium. Mr. Roger’s heated gaze then flicks to the side of Mr. Stark’s head, narrowing a little more and honestly, if looks could kill, everyone here today would be witnesses to a murder. To the death of Iron Man, at the eyes of Captain America.

And oh fuck, this is not going well. So much for going unnoticed. You can’t do this, you can’t be here any longer. This is all just too much and you want to go home.

You quickly pack up your belongings, throwing them haphazardly into your large purse. As the tears of humiliation begin prickling in your eyes. What did you do to deserve any of this? Clearly you fucked up in a past life and now you were paying for it in this one.

Your eyes involuntarily glance back up to the stage, tears threatening to fall but you try to force them to hold off until you are away from this place. Away from all the prying eyes. The last thing you need is photos of you crying like a baby, at the Avengers new facility opening, to start circulating the internet and only adding fuel to the fire.

They’d probably play it up like you were this insanely huge fan, and just being here made your crazy come out to play. Bawling your eyes out for just being here, in the presence of the hero you so clearly had lady wood for. But yet, that wasn’t it at all. You know most of these people were probably too focused on Mr. Stark to even notice the moment between the super soldiers. You’re pretty sure you were the only one who actually did see it.

Your eyes lock once again on the intense pair of blue ones, finding yourself momentarily trapped all over again. Then his eyebrows furrowing snaps you out of it, thankfully, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away as you turn and hastily make for the press area exit.

You don’t look back, you can’t bare to see the relief probably on Mr. Rogers face now. He is probably thankful you are leaving early. He probably never wanted to actually see you in the flesh. He probably thinks you are just some ridiculous, crazed fan who went out of her way to either try to get noticed by him, or boost her career via the exposure.

God, how far from the truth that actually was. But not like you’d ever get the chance to prove that to anyone now. You vow in this exact moment to delete your twitter the second you get into the Uber. Like completely deactivate your whole account. Then you’d have no way to embarrass yourself ever again. At least not publicly, not in front of the entire world.

As you reach the spot where the hired car had dropped you off, you pull out your phone and open your Uber app. You had a hired car set up to pick you up later on, for when the press release was supposed to be over. But as it was still early and now only over for just you, you needed a ride and fast.

You begin filling out the order, hastily walking down the laneway towards the main road. Like hell were you going to stay standing on the facilities grounds any longer. Risking being seen or stopped by random press members. You’d just meet the car down the road a bit. That was the best plan here.

But as you are making your hasty get away, you hear fast footfalls coming up behind you. And you cringe slightly, too nervous to turn around and see who is coming towards you currently. You pray it’s just someone running to meet their car. Maybe one of the press people has an emergency and needs to leave early because of it?

“Hey, hold up,” a deep voice calls from behind you, effectively killing that last thought dead in its tracks. Much like you wish would happen to you right now. If you could just drop dead in this moment, you totally would. You didn’t have suicidal thoughts, ever, but in this exact moment, you’d take any out you could get. The sheer humiliation of this week finally crashing down on you.

You sigh, quickly wiping your cheeks of the few tears that refused to stay put in your eyes, and slowly turn around as the footsteps near you and come to a deafening halt. You know whoever it is, is now only a few feet away from you and there is no avoiding this awkward situation any longer.

You instantly realize the person now standing mere feet from you, is the very last person you want to be anywhere near right now. Even with keeping your eyes down, focused entirely on the ground so that whoever the person ended up being wouldn’t see the tears, now in your eyes. You still instantly know that it’s Steve Rogers, the newest and current victim of your drunken praise, and it now takes everything in you to not start rambling out a ridiculous apology, while also bawling your eyes out.

A heavy silence looms over you, starting to feel as if you are being crushed by it. You take a deep breath, keeping your eyes honed in on the cement ground. “I um, I’m really, really sorry,” you start, the words coming out raspy from your unused and tear tingled voice. The volume barely above a whisper so you quickly clear your throat, “I shouldn’t have come here today. I ah, I didn’t want to ever make you feel uncomfortable in any way. And I guess I just need to apologize to you for my ridiculous antics last week. And ah, and for stupidly agreeing to come to this junket. I’ll just um,” you glance over your shoulder momentarily. “I’ll just be going now,” you finally glanced up at him, as you gesture with your thumb over your shoulder and take a step back. “Sorry again, for um, for everything.”

But holy fuck, he is so much better looking than you could have ever imagined. Up close and personal he is a freaking dream boat—Argh! You have no right to ogle this man! Give your damn head a shake. You are the very last person on this planet who is allowed to fangirl over him right now.

You quickly turn and continue to hastily make your way towards the road, not even giving him a moment to respond to your words. You don’t need him to say anything back though, he doesn’t owe you a damn thing. You are the dick that brought this all on to not only in yourself, but this poor man as well.

You got the chance to apologize to him, which is more than you could have ever asked for. Now you just want this all to be over. You just want to go home and pretend like this entire week never happened. He can go back to his normal life, and you to yours.

God, you could really use a stiff drink right now, but that’s what got you into this whole mess in the first place. So that’s probably not the smartest idea at the moment. So instead you’ll settle for a giant tub of ice cream and a lengthy, tear filled, phone call with your bestie.

“Wait,” he says softly, probably so he doesn’t startle you any further, as you feel a large warm hand grasp your elbow, urging you to turn back around.

You clench your eyes shut, why can’t this just all be over already?! Why you?! You take a deep stuttering breath in then open your eyes and turn to face him again. He releases your elbow as you do and then you awkwardly lock eyes with him once again.

One of his large hands comes up to rub the back of his neck, the action almost looking sheepish. Clearly he also has a few words for you, and whatever they are you’ll totally deserve them. Even if they are chastising you for your stupid posts. So you quickly steel yourself for what’s about to come.

“I ah, I wasn’t—“ he pauses then quickly corrects himself, “I’m not uncomfortable about you being here,” he shakes his head, “not at all. I just—firstly, I just wanted to apologize to you, actually. I know they probably forced you to be here today, I don’t really know how, but judging by your reaction to all of this, I’m guessing you really had no say in being here.“ He sighs deeply, “I had no idea that they’d actually invited you, so I can only assume that Tony played a huge hand in all of this. He really likes to insert himself into other people's lives, so I apologize that you got dragged into this. He doesn’t really know when to butt out.”

You nod slowly as you glance down to the ground again, “it’s okay. You really don’t owe me anything, I honestly brought this all on myself. I um, I don’t blame anyone else for any of this, but thank you for saying all of that.” You look back up at him, “it really helps to hear. This week has just been—“ you cut yourself off with a deep sigh, as you wave a dismissive hand around, “sorry, that’s really not important. Um, just basically thank you, ya know, for easing my mind with all of this.”

He frowns a little, but quickly corrects it. And you still just honestly want this all to be done with. But he looks like he still has more to say, so looks like your hopes will go unanswered this time. And just as you suspected he speaks up again.

He shakes his head, “don’t mention it, but I should really be the one thanking you.”

Awe, isn’t that just so dang sweet of him—wait, what?! I’m sorry, come again?! Your eyes widen as your mouth falls open slightly. You imagine it’s a super attractive look—note the sarcasm again—but you honestly can’t bring yourself to care about that at the moment. Because what did he just say?

Your eyebrows furrow after far too long of a moment with you just gaping up at him. “I’m sorry if this is rude, but um, why exactly would you owe me a thank you?”

He smiles down at you, then quickly glances over his shoulder before looking back to you. “I’ll explain all that, but first, can I show you something?”

You find yourself nodding before you’ve even realized it. “Um, yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, great. Just uh, just follow me then,” he says through a hesitant smile as he leads you off and away from the gathering. You aren’t sure where exactly he is taking you, but for the first time all week, you aren’t worried at all. Probably because this is Steve Rogers, the man out of time, and a true gentleman, in every sense of the word.

And maybe, just maybe, your hellish week that all began thanks to one stupid drunk moment, might just end on a way better note. Maybe your Drunk Twitter escapades weren’t all bad. Maybe they weren’t entirely horrible.

But honestly who really knows, you’d just have to wait and find out.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Part 2 of this, from Steve POV, will be coming sometime this week! So stay tuned for that!

@caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @jasminecalia @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @capricornprince118

[taiblogcomics]

Absolutely Thera-Pissed

Hey there, visas and green cards. It's our ninth blogaversary! Wow, we've been going for quite a long time. Long enough to completely change platforms at least once. Considering we just finished our whole backlog, I think we should try something new in honour of the amazing coincidence of these two events synching up. Before we start on another backlog of terrible comics (trust me, I have something in mind), let's do something we've never done before on this blog. We've only ever really covered comics issue by issue. How would you feel, dear readers, if we instead did an entire storyline all at once?

And oh boy, do I have just the storyline in mind. Here's the cover:

Oh yeah. We're doing this. This story has kind of hung over this blog, mostly due to its connections to Red Hood and the Outlaws. It also prominitely features Harley Quinn, who also appeared in Suicide Squad (which ended before this story took place). And personally, I am a fan of Harley, Booster, and the Titans. And oh boy, does this comic shit all over them, in some of the most truly appalling ways possible. This is Heroes in Crisis. All nine issues. Let's jump right in~

I won’t be going over the covers of the individual issues, or even this one so much, but I do like that quote at the top. It is actually some good superhero artwork! It is an extremely awful story, but the artwork is fine~

So the first issue starts like this: Booster Gold's in one of those tiny middle-American diners. The host's loving it, since she says superheroes never show up and eat here. And oh look, here comes another one! Booster replies that that's no hero, as Harley Quinn walks in. Clearly he hasn't been reading her solo series. Harley orders some pie, and she and Booster eat in terse silence. Until suddenly Harley grabs a knife, and the two begin a real knock-down, drag-out fight. And lemme tell ya something, Harley keeps up with a guy who can fly and project forcefields pretty well. Eventually the pair are exhausted, and Booster says he's gotta bring Harley in, after what he saw her do. Harley protests, because she didn't kill all those people. She saw Booster do it.

All this is intercut with two different scenes. One is sort of a confession-cam style thing, a bunch of heroes (including Harley, Blue Jay, Booster, and Hotspot) all admitting they're here for therapy. And the second is Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman talking with each other as they land in a particular site. This place is called Sanctuary. It is currently full of dead heroes. Among the deceased here are Hotspot, Lagoon Boy, Wally West, and Roy Harper. And this is my first major complaint. Do you know what all these characters have in common? Hey, DC: Stop using the Titans as your cannon fodder. Stop treating them as a joke. Every iteration of the team deserves more respect than this.

So Harley and Booster are going to be our POV characters for this story. I like both of these characters a lot, so this is probably going to be pretty painful seeing them written horribly. Harley goes off to the Penguin for protection, and we actually get to see her in her old costume. It is a breath of fresh air, honestly. Booster, meanwhile, mostly just tries to rationalise his actions with Skeets, his robot buddy. Booster suffered kind of a psychotic break back in the Batman storyline "The Gift", which is why he was in Sanctuary to begin with. This story is basically a follow-up to that one, and has the same sort of tone.

Harley confronts the trinity in Gotham, revealing she set the whole thing up with Penguin just so she could get close to them on her terms. She uses the Lasso of Truth to confess she saw Booster Gold do it, then uses the Kryptonite in Batman's belt to skip town. The next time we see her, she's at the docks, giving a eulogy to Poison Ivy, another victim of Sanctuary. Booster Gold, meanwhile, has rationalised that Batman would solve the crime himself rather than turn himself in, and goes to Barry Allen to check in. Of course, the trinity are the only ones who know about the accident yet, so when Booster tells Barry that Wally's dead, he gets super pissed. Just like the readers are!

Issue 3 is a flashback issue, showing Booster's first day at Sanctuary. Sanctuary works like this: everyone gets their own private quarters, and if they want to visit the common areas, they wear a mask and cloak to preserve anonymity. Here's the first really big problem with Sanctuary: while therapy for superheroes is a good (possibly necessary) concept, Sanctuary is only one kind of therapy. It essentially assumes everyone responds the same to the same sort of therapy. The kind here is that Sanctuary gives you a private room that simulates your traumas (with a holodeck) and has you physically confront them. Lagoon Boy, for example, is shown to be facing the laser that killed him over and over again. Wally sets up superhero battles that still have his kids with him. And while this sort of therapy might help some people, it's definitely not universal.

Booster starts his first session, which ends up just being a hologram of himself, talking to him. Before he can get much further, though, alarms go off and everyone is urged to emergency evacuate. Lagoon Boy is killed--in a deliberate callback to his previous death, no less--and we see a few other victims, including Red Devil, Commander Steel, and Gunfire. Wally clutches Roy's body as he dies in his arms, and Harley smacks Wally in the face with her hammer. She greets Booster cheerfully, and he admits he's having a hell of a first day.

After a brief scene of Aqualad (Garth, in this case) drinking in a bar--and who can blame him for wanting to drink after experiencing this story?--Batman and Barry meet, thus showing they're still unsure who did it. Booster is being interrogated under the Lasso of Truth, and he relays the previous issue to us. In his mind, Harley did it. Harley, meanwhile, has tracked down Batgirl (Barbara Gordon) and surprisingly... they hug. Babs promises to help stick by Harley and prove her innocence. After all, Babs has been through trauma, too. The comic reminds us of this with another confession-cam video, showing Babs display the scars she received from “The Killing Joke".

So, about these confession cams... They've been interspersed between scenes, showing everyone from Batman down to guys like Gunfire or the Protector relaying their problems by confession. Again, this sort of therapy isn't for everyone, but it's the only one Sanctuary's got. Superman tells Batman that Lois has been receiving these videos anonymously. Batman responds that there are no videos. Sanctuary does not keep records, to preserve patient confidentiality. Supes replies that there are videos, he's seen them, and now the media has them. The issue ends with a breaking story about "What is the secret superhero Sanctuary?" exposé airing on television...

Speaking of breaking, Blue Beetle (Ted Kord, who I'm as surprised as anybody to find out is alive again post-Rebirth) breaks Booster out of the Hall of Justice where he's being held. The pair watch the breaking news report on television while they try to come up with a plan. Booster's idea is to confess to Barry again, figuring they won't expect the stupidest possible move, making it actually the smartest possible move. Booster has not really recovered from his insanity, I see. He and Beetle do exactly that, surprising Barry at work, which is apparently all the advantage they need. This is because Barry, as a forensic scientist, has access to the data on the autopsies.

While Superman makes a public statement to the press regarding Sanctuary, Batman passes Skeets into Batgirl's care, and she immediately violates that trust by in turn passing Skeets to Harley. It's implied Harley tortures the information regarding Booster's whereabouts out of Skeets, but it's okay because he's just a robot. Babs and Harley turn up at Booster's place as he's analysing the data he obtained from Barry. Here's where it all starts to fall into place: the data on Wally West says his body is five days older than the rest of them.

Issue 6 is kind of a triple piece, but one that can be summed up fairly quickly. It focuses on three specific characters who were all at Sanctuary. The parts regarding Gnaark the caveman (another Titans alumnus) are ultimately pointless, since the issue ends with his death. The parts with Harley focus on Joker's abuse of her and Posion Ivy's care towards her. This also ends badly. Wally's parts focus on the DC Rebirth story where he essentially willed himself back into the universe. And while that story is really good and it was a joy to see Wally again, it ultimately ended with the knowledge that Wally's family did not reappear with him. His kids are gone, his wife is with someone else and does not remember him, and until he forced his way back into everyone's memories, no one else recalled him either. This would traumatise anybody. But it may have really traumatised Wally.

The next issue starts really well, honestly. Booster and Harley are fighting it out--again--while Babs and Beetle just watch. Like, they aren't even stressed, they're both familiar with their respective charges, and this is really no surprise. In any other comic, this would be a great scene. Shame that it's in this one, and it's not nearly enough to save even a lick of it. Eventually Babs works out that Booster's forcefields are only currently working because of some jury-rigged tech that's powered by Blue Beetle's consciousness. So she knocks him out with one hit. Harley prepares a killing blow, but ultimately cannot go through with it, proving she's a good person. She and Booster just collapse on the floor, and bond over the fact that they both kind of suck as superheroes (from their own perspectives, at least).

With Booster, Beetle, Babs, and Harley (Barley?) all on the same side now, the group decide to get to the bottom of everything together. Meanwhile, the rose Harley dropped off the docks is picked up by Wally. See, while the body they found of Wally is five days older than the rest, this means he time-traveled and is still at present alive. Wally channels his Speed Force into the rose, causing it to grow rapidly--and Poison Ivy blooms from it, restored to life. I don't get it either, but if it means Ivy didn't die in this stupid story, I'll take it. Wally then apologises, since Ivy just returned to life and now she has to see death so soon. Those five days are up, and a second Wally appears, ready to literally kill himself.

So here's what really fucking happened.

Wally had been at Sanctuary three weeks already. He's frustrated because the therapy's not helping as fast as he thought it would. He does a jump into the Speed Force and basically exists everywhere at once. Spread across the time stream, he witnesses everybody's confession cams all at once. He sees "the trauma of a thousand heroes in crisis" (hey, we have a title, ladies and gentlemen). And... it's too much. Realising everybody's personal pain breaks him. He unleashes the burst of pent-up energy he'd stored to do the time jaunt thing and kills everyone at Sanctuary.

Lagoon Boy. Protector. Hotspot. Red Devil. Arsenal. Gnaark. Solstice. Tattooed Man. Gunfire. Blue Jay. Commander Steel. Nemesis. I want you to remember these names. These were all pre-existing characters. Half of them were members of the Titans at one point or another. Wally West, the Flash, killed them in a stupid, stupid storyline that not only assassinates his character, but also literally assassinates all these other characters.

Wally uses his super speed to set up the bodies, rig the crime scenes so it looks like Harley or Booster could be responsible for their deaths. He then travels forward in time to the present moment, where he has just confessed all this to Poison Ivy. He kills that version of himself and travels back in time with it to fake his own death. He then uses the VR tech of Sanctuary to trick Booster and Harley into believing they saw the other commit the deeds. Neither of them even knew they'd never left their respective therapy simulations. This leaves Wally with a five day window to figure out something good he can do to make up for killing everyone.

So the final issue wraps it up like this: Booster time-travels the group back to where Barry is about to kill his own paradox clone. Harley and Ivy reunite, which is nice. So here's the plan: this doesn't have to end with any more death. In the end, what Barry did was all an accident. So Booster travels into the future to make a clone of the paradox-Wally. This gives them a five-day-old body they can leave at the massacre, in order to close the timeloop. The present Wally turns himself in and is arrested, while the five-days-ago paradox Wally merges back into the Speed Force, still running to try and find his family.

And the "good" thing Wally did to make up for killing everyone? He was the one that leaked Sanctuary's existence to the media. In his mind, the idea that heroes are seen as constant paragons was too much pressure. By letting the public know that even superheroes need therapy, even superheroes suffer trauma just like everyone else, he he could let people know that heroes are just that: people. People like everyone else. And that it is okay for anyone to seek help if you need it. This seems like a nice sentiment, until you remember the reason Wally killed everyone is because he was impatient about how his therapy was going.  What an awful story.

-----

Like, legitimately, this story is just awful. The basic premise--that heroes could probably do with therapy--is not a bad one. The execution is just really completely mismanaged, though. Start with the beginning. Why are Harley Quinn and Booster Gold chosen as the focus characters? Because they're the ones you could believe would orchestrate a mass murder, right? Except no. You would never believe that. Booster is not that much of a screw-up, and Harley is not that much of a villain. Neither of them have been those things for many years. The readers know that, but it feels like the writer didn't.

And that's the worst part of it all. The superficiality of the story. In the end, why was this story written? To explore the concept of therapy for superheroes? Well, then, it went about it in the worst way possible. Not everyone experiences trauma in the same way. And therefore, not everyone responds to therapy in the same way. The way therapy is depicted in this story is just wrong. Frankly, Sanctuary looks like one of the worst places to get treatment, right alongside Arkham Asylum. Do you think anybody's really going to take away from this story "It's okay to talk about your traumas if you need to"? In or out of universe?

I didn't really talk about the confession cams, but they seemed highly unnecessary. They were always the same, a 3x3 of panels featuring a superhero talking about their traumas. Most of them didn't factor into the story, and at most they felt like a common scene transition. They tried to give them some weight by revealing that the contents of all these possibly got leaked? But then they just kinda dropped that subplot. Which was really kind of serious, because the traumas range from the Protector (a character created for drug PSAs) confessing that he has done drugs to Superman talking about the burden of keeping his identity secret. How much of these did the public actually get? And if it was none, what was even the point of it being a subplot~? Like, leak that Sanctuary existed, sure, but why did Lois Lane get sent all the videos that shouldn't have existed~?

What this story has done to Wally is awful. They have completely tarnished this likeable, amazing hero by having him kill twelve people (thirteen, if you include Poison Ivy), several of them colleagues and friends. All because he's trying to fake his way through therapy when it isn't helping him as fast as he wants. Know what would have been a good story? How about he learns to cope with his trauma? How about he actually gets his family back? It's unrealistic as hell, but it's a fictional story. It's escapism. It's okay to have a happy ending. I ''want'' my stories to end in happy endings, because it's so hard to get them in real life. I want something better than this.

DC Rebirth was a breath of fresh air. Wally's return to the DC universe felt like the clouds were lifitng. The stories following Rebirth felt like a return to form after the darkening of the New 52. It felt like the stories were getting good again, like the comics were getting fun and hopeful again. It couldn't last, though, could it? This story is only three years after the Rebirth initiative. Three years? That's all the hope we get in the universe? I sincerely hope this story ends up an abberation, and not a return to form of the darker, more dour universe we put up with in the New 52. Especially given current events, you can understand why a brighter, optimistic fictional world is appealing. I sincerely hope that when comics resume publication after the pandemic, a more positive outlook continues, and stories like this are left in the garbage where they belong.

This book is fucking awful, and I am done with it. Next week, we'll start reviewing an all-new series for the Taiblog. Let's just say I'm not done ranting about injustices against the Teen Titans~

[coyotesongwriting]

When It Rains, It Pours - Ch. 14

Avengers - Bucky Barnes/Reader

Chapter 14 - The Truth

Story Summary:  Things are going great between you and Bucky, until one day they aren’t. He dumps you, not knowing that what you’d wanted to talk to him about was the positive pregnancy test you held behind your back.

Chapter Summary: It's time for you two to clear the air.

Author’s Note: Thank you guys for reading this, all mistakes are my own!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Tag List (if you want to be added or removed let me know!):    @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark  @samsgoddess @redfoxwritesstuff​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @fookingmuffins​ @yasnooshka24​ @redfoxwritesstuff​ @amazon-belle​ @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven​ @kinkywitchy​ @superwonderwholock​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @paranoiadestroyah​ @cool-kids-cant-be-dead​ @sarcastic-and-cool​

Previous Chapter

If you thought he’d been sleep deprived before, you weren’t prepared for the heavy bags under his eyes. You hadn’t seen him that exhausted since he’d first joined the team and had been battling his nightmares. When was the last time he had slept through the night?

You leaned against the wall and slowly sunk down, closing your eyes as you leaned back to rest your head against the cool wall. You didn’t look as he joined you, sitting against the wall, close enough to reach out and touch but it felt like miles as you remembered all the late-night talks with the two of you side-by-side, sitting together as the world moved around you.

“Bucky, I don’t want to talk. Not anymore, I can’t do this” you sighed, your voice dropping to a whisper before you continued, “I can’t take it anymore babe…”

“Please, just give me a chance Doll… Hear me out this one time and I won’t ever ask you to again” he begged, his voice was low.

“Do I even get a choice?”

He nodded slowly, “Yeah, you get a choice. I’m done making decisions for you… If you tell me to shut up, I’ll just sit here with you until the doors unlock.”

You didn’t respond and you pulled your knees up against you, wrapping your arms around them as you rested your chin on them. You didn’t turn to look at him, but you studied him out of the corner of your eye. He was sitting rigid, staring straight ahead as he waited for you to decide. To those who didn’t know him, he would just look like a man lost in thought. You could see the nerves beneath the surface, the tension brewing in him like a storm.

You took a shuddering breath and closed your eyes tightly, “Okay”

“Is that… okay shut up or okay talk?” he asked softly, trying to bite back the hope in case you meant for him to be quiet.

“Okay, you can talk” you explained, turning to look at him, the side of your head now cushioned on your arms.

Bucky sat up slowly, afraid that if he moved too fast you’d spook like a wild animal. He shifted to sit facing you, the palms of his hands resting on his knees as he sat, legs crisscrossed. Nervously, he brushed the hair out of his face and let out a slow breath before he began.

“[Y/N] I need you to know I did - do - love you. I’ve never stopped. You’ve always been the one for me, and I miss you more than I can say every day that I’m not with you. I know you think I don’t love you, and you have every reason to think that because of what I did, what I said. I know I should have talked to you about it all when Loki first started in on me.

“But I didn’t, Doll. God, if I could go back in time I would, I’d sit you down and tell you everything. Instead, I let Loki tell me that you’d finally realized I was too fucked up. I let him convince me that you’d be happier without me. That you were planning on dumping me that night. I let myself listen to his lies and it wasn’t long before I began to believe them.

“I mean, you’re you, baby. You’re amazing and funny and sweet and always quick with a smile for your team. And I’m me, damaged and broken. What in the hell had I done to deserve you? Of course, you finally came to your senses. I didn’t decide not to talk to you because I don’t love you, or because I don’t trust you. I didn’t talk to you about it because it made total sense that you’d be done with me.

“At first I was determined to do better, be better, to win you back. I wanted to convince you to stay with me. And then it dawned on me you’d be better without me. You could move on and be happy without having to worry about me freaking out in a crowd, or me waking up in the middle of the night screaming. You deserve so much more.

“And I know you, you’re so sweet. And so caring. I didn’t want you to feel bad, I didn’t want you to feel guilty for dumping me. I thought if I broke up with you first, you’d feel relieved. I thought you’d be happy… So I said the stupidest thing I could come up with, something you couldn’t argue.”

Bucky stopped, dragging his flesh hand through his hair. You didn’t speak, your mind racing as you processed everything he said. His metal hand began to flex against his knee, clenching and unclenching as the nerves took over. Wordlessly, you reached over to grab his metal hand in warm hand, your fingers softly intertwining as you began to rub soothing circles into the back of his hand as you had so many times before.

After a long moment, he continued, “I never knew how much it could hurt to be away from you, Doll. I never thought you’d leave, I thought I’d just have to watch you from afar. I didn’t count on not seeing you for almost two years. I thought I’d lose my mind when the only thing Thor would tell me is that you were okay. It killed me to not know how you were really doing and I realized I had fucked up but I didn’t know what to do about it.

“And then, Steve showed me a picture of you and Aspen smiling together and I realized just how bad my screw up had been. I realized I’d given up everything I had ever wanted, needed, because Loki got into my head. And I didn’t know how to tell you the truth when I saw you again. Then Loki was always there and you were happy and I thought I had to give you up, but Doll, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give you up, not to him.

“I’m so sorry Doll… I would take it all back if I could. I know it doesn’t mean much anymore, but I love you…” his voice trailed off, eyes staring down at the floor in between the two of you.

With your free hand, you wiped the tears from your eyes, gently squeezing his hand in your own. Neither of you spoke, your mind racing as you tried to put everything together. He refused to look at you, afraid of what he’d see.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Bucky, I never wanted you to be anyone but yourself. I know you think - thought? - that you’re a bad person but you’re not. You’re stubborn and playful and I’ve never met someone as loyal and brave as you. You always made me want to be better, not because I had to but because I wanted to. I just wish you’d talked to me… Maybe we wouldn’t be here. Maybe you would have known Aspen from the start…. Maybe we would still be together.”

“Were you ever going to tell me about her?” his voice was barely a whisper, the question he’d been too afraid to ask seemed to echo around the room.

“Yes. I didn’t mean to keep her from you but every time I thought about coming back here or telling you it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was terrified you’d tell me you didn’t want her, and I didn’t know how I’d handle that… I was scared.” you admitted.

“What were you going to tell her… About me?” his eyes studied the wall across the room as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“I was going to be as honest as I could be. Tell her that her dad was another Midgardian who I’d worked with and we’d been good together until we weren’t. Figured by that time she’d be old enough to come visit you if she wanted so I’d have to tell you by then, and if you wanted, she could come visit. I know it wasn’t my best decision but I got scared and didn’t know what to do…”

Leaving your hands nestled together, he slowly moved to sit in front of you sitting so close your legs were softly brushing together. Slowly you moved to mimic his position, the two of you sitting with your legs crisscrossed, knees touching. You bit your lip, glancing down at your hands before looking up at him through your lashes. He reached up, cupping your cheek in his hand and you leaned into it, eyes sinking closed.

“Give me another chance, Doll. Let me prove that I love you, I’ll never let you go again” he pleaded, his hand falling back to his side slowly.

“We’re not the same people anymore, Bucky. I’m not the woman you knew, I’ve changed… What if we’re just too different now?” you looked anywhere but at him as you voiced your fear.

“What if we’re not? Please Doll, one chance. Just give me one chance to prove to you we can try again.”

Eventually, you nodded once, “One date, Bucky. If we can’t make it work though, we have to move on. We have to figure out how to be friends, for Aspen’s sake, Okay?”

He nodded, smiling gently at you, “I swear you won’t regret this, [Y/N].”

His eyes quickly wandered to look at your lips before back up to meet your gaze. You blushed softly, pulling your lower lip slightly in between your teeth as you smiled up at him. His hand was still resting against your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. The moment seemed to linger as he carefully leaned in stopping an inch away, his eyes searching yours for permission. Slowly, you leaned forward and met his lips.

The kiss started slow, nervous. It didn’t take long before his hands rested on your hips and you were in his lap, your fingers tangled in his hair. He kissed you like a drowning man searching for a last breath of air, desperate and needy. For a moment, everything was right with the world.

And then, it wasn’t. A piercing wolf whistle pierced the silence as the doors opened, and you let out a low groan, burying your head in his shoulder. Bucky growled, his hands still gripping your hips as he glared over your shoulder at Clint.

“Hadn’t heard anything from you two in a bit, we were starting to get worried. Apparently, that wasn’t needed” Clint smirked, “Anyways, looks like you two love birds don’t need to be grounded anymore. You can come join us for dinner if you aren’t too busy.”

Bucky grabbed an empty vial off the counter next to you and chucked it at Clint’s head. Unfortunately, Clint had already ducked around the corner and the glass shattered against the wall instead. You let out a breathy chuckle against his neck, before carefully sliding off his lap.

Bucky got to his feet, and helped you to yours, pulling you into his chest. You pecked him on the cheek before stepping back out of his space. His hand quickly found yours, and you smiled over at him as the familiar sense of peace he'd always given you settled in, warm and comforting like a fireplace in a blizzard.

Your hands still entangled, you rejoined the group in the dining room. The others were all smiling and glancing down at your hands as you settled into the empty seats they’d saved for the two of you, no one wanting to draw attention to the affection you two were showing. Everyone but Clint of course.

“Glad you two could join us” Clint smirked, winking at you across the table.

After a long pause, you smiled at him, your grin predatory, “5… 4…”

“Clint? Run” Nat laughed.

His eyes flew wide, and he jumped to his feet, racing out of the room. As he rounded the corner, he started to slip in his socks and had to catch himself on the wall as he fled. You continued your countdown until he was out of the room and then laughed softly, stealing the water glass Clint had left behind.

“So, are you going to get him or..?” Bucky chuckled, squeezing your hand in his.

“Nah, I’m content to just let him run. It’s more fun to leave him stressing” you shrugged, leaving Nat laughing at your plan.

Dinner that evening was fun, it seemed like a heavy fog had lifted from the group. Clint never returned to the table, and you knew he was out there hiding, worrying about how you’d get him back. Throughout dinner, you and Bucky worked together to take care of Aspen, taking turns feeding her and entertaining her while the other ate. You and Bucky never stopped touching during dinner, whether it be your knees brushing against one another or your pinky fingers linking.

When everything had been cleaned up after dinner and everyone had settled in on the couch to watch a movie, Clint finally returned to the group. He muttered under his breath and watched you warily as he took a seat by Natasha, as far as he could get from you in the room. You merely winked at him, waiting for Bucky to return from putting Aspen to bed in your room. Friday would let you know if she woke or anything happened, and you knew she’d be safe so you were kind of excited for an adults-only evening.

Lady Sif had curled up next to Steve, her head resting on his shoulder and he stared down at her, eyes blown wide and face as red as a tomato. The poor man was stiff as a board and you were trying so hard not to laugh at the panic on his face. As Bucky settled back into the couch next to you, you smiled at him then turned back to Sif and Steve.

“You doing okay over there, Steve?” you teased.

“What? Yeah. No. Of course. I’m fine.” he stammered, his blush deepening.

“I told you, Sif” you snickered, “You’re going to break the poor man.”

Sif merely shrugged at you, her eyes dancing playfully as she leaned into Steve more. You were beginning to worry the super soldier was actually uncomfortable when you noticed the soft way he looked at her, and you began to wonder if there really was something there or if he was just too worried about offending her to push her away. Before you could bug her again, Bucky pulled you against his side. You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring, or if there would be a future for the two of you, but if there wasn’t you didn’t want to have wasted a single moment not touching him when you could have.

As the movie started, you snuggled into him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder. Slowly, you fell asleep, tucked into him. You didn’t see the way he smiled softly down at you, his fingers slowly combing through your hair as you slept on him. It was the best sleep you’d had in a long while honestly.

When the movie finally drew to a close, Steve sprang away from Sif and quickly retreated, claiming he needed to be up early. As the others dispersed, Nat showing Sif where the guest rooms were, Bucky slowly got to his feet and picked you up. You burrowed into his chest, letting out a content sigh as he carried you to your room.

You let out a quiet groan of protest when he set you carefully on your bed. For a moment, you thought about asking him to stay but even in your exhaustion you knew it was too soon for that, you both needed space and time to figure out how you were going to make this work. He kissed you gently on the forehead, then did the same for Aspen before retreating to his room.

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