#Colin is so Pat coded

[thamekisspo]

People say it’s rushed, I choose to think that the minute Colin kissed Penelope, he realized he cannot live without her in his life. And not as a friend, but as a partner. As a lover. As his forever. The minute he realized his feelings for Penelope, he couldn’t let her go. I honestly think if he was to yearn for any more eps, he would die. I mean literally. His heart wouldn’t be able to take someone who wasn’t him courting Penelope. You call it rush, I call it being all consumed by your best friend and being stupid to realize it too late

[aria-bun]

How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?

Sam and Colin having a rough time at the library decide to keep each other company. Read on ao3!

Sam squinted at his computer screen, his eyes scanning the PDF on his laptop over and over. He was reading the words, but he wasn’t comprehending them.

He needed more coffee.

Or less coffee, by Alice’s suggestion. Which was fair. Since starting college, he seemed to be a cup away from a caffeine overdose at all times.

But it kept him moving, so the risk of imminent death was worth it.

At least, until the quiet of the library was interrupted by certain… suspicious sounds from one of the nearby study rooms.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Sam turned his head, seeing Colin, on the opposite end of the table, smacking his head against the wooden table.

How long had he been there?

At the sound of another grunt, Sam picked up his laptop. “Nope, nope, nope, nope,” he whispered as he migrated to the other side of the table, farther away from the nearby study room.

Colin looked at him, half amused, half wincing. 

“I already can’t focus, this is not helping.” Sam sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Colin grumbled. There was something about Colin’s voice that Sam liked. It was oddly comforting, and he wasn’t sure why.

Actually, he did know why. It was the briskness of his voice. It reminded Sam of autumn wind. It had a bit of a bite to it, but it was one of his favorite times of the year.

And Sam found himself enjoying Colin’s presence quite a lot.

“What’re you working on?” Sam glanced over Colin’s shoulder at his laptop screen. He didn’t understand a lick of coding, but thought it’d be nice to ask at least.

“Trying to implement AVL trees in Haskell for an assignment. Being a pain in the arse.” Colin’s nose wrinkled, his eyes narrowing at the laptop screen. His face seemed to scrunch slightly when he was thinking, Sam noticed, and it softened his harsh features. 

It was kind of cute.

“Dýou want to talk about it?” Sam asked him.

Colin looked at him. “That would require me to actually know what the hell I’m doing.”

“... That's fair.”

A quiet melody of music wafted through the air, and Sam’s head perked up slightly, confused. 

Colin paused. “At least we know they’re lesbians now.”

He was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, is that The Giver?”

“Yep.”

“Just kill me now.” Sam buried his face in his hands, sinking down in his chair.

“No way I’m suffering through this alone.” Colin gave him a small pat on the head.

“I thought those rooms were supposed to be soundproof.” Sam sighed, reluctantly sitting back up and looking back at his laptop.

“This buildin’s like a hundred years old, Sam.” Colin gave him a look. “Maybe it was at some point.”

“That’s… fair.”

The groans from the study room seemed to get louder, and Sam covered his ears with his palms, nearly smacking his head into the table.

What have I done to earn this in my life?

Trying to focus back on the PDF on his laptop, he felt a small nudge to his shoulder. Glancing over at Colin, he saw the Scot offering him a wired earbud, the other one already in his ear.

Sam scooted his chair over, bringing his laptop with him so he was closer to Colin, so the cord wasn’t reaching super far.

He took the earbud, putting it in his ear before turning his attention back to his laptop. It didn’t fully drown out their surroundings, but it was better than having both hands over his ears the entire time. 

Sam didn’t recognize the song, but it reminded him of the alternative rock that Alice had listened to (and quickly outgrew) when they were in middle school. It wasn’t his personal taste, but it wasn’t bad.

He managed to get through the last bit of the PDF he needed to skim through for the assignment, leaning his head only slightly so he could cover his other ear.

Every now and then, their shoulders brushed slightly due to how close they were sitting, and it made Sam feel… something.

It wasn’t much of a surprise to him that he liked Colin; Sam figured out early on that he grew attached to people very quickly, and Colin was definitely his type. The hard part was trying to sort out other people’s feelings.

“Fuckin’ bastard.” Sam stifled a slight laugh at Colin swearing under his breath, glaring daggers at his laptop.

“Everything alright?” he smiled, a bit amused.

“The program’s bein’ stupid as shit.” Colin fumed slightly, furiously punching something into the keyboard. His accent seemed to have thickened slightly, out of irritation.

Kinda cute.

Sam glanced at Colin’s screen and winced slightly “Just looking at that hurts my head.”

“Imagine trying to write it,” he grumbled, rubbing his face with a hand. “They need so many fucking rotations.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I want to imagine it.” 

“Fair.”

The squeaky sound of a door caught Sam’s attention, and his head perked up slightly before his eyes widened.

Stepping out of the study room, was Alice and Gwen.

He did a double take, glancing over at Colin, who had momentarily dropped his pen, previously having paused to write something down.

What the hell?

“Oh my God.” Sam rubbed the side of his face with his hand.

“Hey ladies,” Colin got their attention. “Those rooms aren’t soundproof. Could hear the Chappel Roan all the way out here.”

Gwen’s face immediately went a bright shade of red, covering her face with her hands.

“Suck a carrot, Becher!” Alice called back as she walked off, dragging Gwen along with her by the arm.

Sam glanced back at Colin, and the amused smirk on his face made the embarrassment all worth it.

——————————————————————

“So… You and Gwen are a thing now?” Sam raised an eyebrow at Alice from across the dorm room.

“Yep,” she said simply, popping the p.

“I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting that.” he leaned back in his desk chair.

“Yeah, yeah, we had our academic rivals-to-lovers arc, what about you, Sammy?” she sat up on her bed. “You and Colin were awfully close.”

“We were just sharing music.”

“Just that?”

“He has good music taste!”

“Please, Sam. Colin has the music taste of a divorced middle-aged man.” Alice flopped back down on her bed. “Which is a level just above a middle schooler discovering MCR for the first time.”

“I think you’re just being a bit mean.” Sam laughed slightly.

“Fine then, what did you guys listen to?”

He paused. “...Black Veil Brides.”

She snapped her fingers. “Exactly. I gotta say, Sammy, your taste varies between batshit and a bit basic.”

He snorted lightly. “And where do you fall on that?”

“Oh, absolutely batshit.” she grinned. “I’m on one side of the scale, Colin’s on the other.”

“Colin isn’t basic.”

“Just a little.”

“He drinks Redeyes and majors in Computer Science. I wouldn’t call it basic.”

Alice raised an eyebrow “...Colin doesn’t drink Redeye.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “Not even close. He likes his drinks as dark as his soul, and even though he likes to put up that bitchy scottish exterior of his, he has the heart and soul of a confetti cupcake.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at that, but said nothing.Huh.

[writerpey]

Cgs!Laszlo & Nadja Headcanons

i’ve had a few wwdits asks and decided to post for both laszlo and nadja bc they’re simply so mama and papa coded! <3

Firstly, Laszlo was made to be a caregiver. We’re all thinking of the absolutely unbelievable plotline that was baby Colin, aren’t we? Well, I think that after Colin grew up far too quickly for Laszlo to catch up with, there was a deep, gnawing desire for him to take care of someone in the same way. In comes a special little regressor in the lives of the vampires!

Laszlo adores when his little takes interest in the fine arts. A bit pretentious of him? Maybe. But totally in character. He’ll pick up his little vampire with ease and sit them on the piano stool next to him and teach them how to play no matter how young they’re feeling. Super tiny? He’ll laugh at his little banging on the keys and gently play a tune that he knows will put a smile on their face. A bit bigger? He’ll gently guide their hands and glance over to Nadja with a very proud look on his face when they carefully play on their own. Very good, darling! Beethoven could not play as spectacularly as you.

Laszlo loves to tell stories in the mansion’s sitting room right before the sun rises. He’s an amazing storyteller, creating spinning tales of lords, ladies and King Arthur’s roundtable set with different voices for each character. He watches carefully when their eyes start to droop and they look sleepy enough to slumber as soon as the lid of their coffin closes. It’s either stories or early morning reruns on HGTV.

When Nadja is in charge of bedtime for her and Laszlo’s little one, it includes soft lullabies and her fingers or a brush through the regressor’s hair. It almost makes her giddy when her little one runs up to her before bed with a brush, comb, hair bow or bonnet in their hands and a sweet smile on their face. She’ll have them sit on the floor in front of the crackling fireplace while she scoots a plush armchair up and settles down to hum a gentle tune while being equally as gentle with their hair. Are you tired, little one? Papa will come and carry you to bed.

Mornings are frequently energy filled with Laszlo and Nadja, especially after a hearty breakfast. Laszlo is usually the last to rise in the mornings, and more than once his little has been sent to his coffin on behest of Nadja to loudly bang on it and drag him out with happy giggles. Nadja is a troublemaker that way, always sending their regressor to unknowingly tease or cause Laszlo grief because she knows they’ll get away with anything.

It’s always fun with the both of them. There’s nothing they love more than hearing their little laugh and play, and they’ll do just about anything their little wants to make that happen. Games in the house go from Laszlo chasing their little around and building pillow forts to Nadja getting together every bit of clothing in the house so they can all play dress up together. (Guillermo and Nandor tend to be invited for dress up too. If their little demands a larger audience, by goodness will they get it!)

Both of them are pretty lax when it comes to rules and expected behaviour of their little. Nadja is quicker to berate their regressor than Laszlo is, but her scolding is usually tame despite her exasperation and is along the lines of, Sweetie, you can’t keep playing on that machine with Colin Robinson! and I have told you to be careful with Dolly. I will not remind you again. Laszlo is stern only when he truly needs to be, or when their little is being fussier than usual. He’s not afraid to take them by the hand and march them out of the basement when they’re caught rifling through the freezer. Darling, you know you’re not to be in there. Ah-ah, no excuses. Come along.

Nadja and Laszlo are both big on physical contact. Laszlo will pick up his little out of nowhere and swing them around just to hear their giggles. He loves to give them piggyback rides too! During story time he’ll pat his lap for them to come and curl up with their head under his chin. He gives the best cuddles. Nadja is a very scary tickle monster, and she is amazing at calming an overwhelmed or upset little down with back rubs and a steady hand on theirs, her thumb circling the top of their hand.

The couple use so many pet names for their regressor. Laszlo is extremely creative of course: Darling, sweetheart, vampling, sweet tooth, my little vampire, small one. Nadja is simpler but just as sweet: Little one, sweetie, baby, honey.

Laszlo and Nadja are ultimately a pair of sweethearts that always dote on and protect their little one. <3

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

New Rule: The Cojones Awards - Real Time with Bill Maher

New Rule: Great news about a new award show. Listen to this. About a year and a half ago, I was asked to moderate a discussion at the home of a very prominent Hollywood producer. And the attendees that night was a who's who of A-listers and stars. If a bomb went off in that room, there'd be nothing on TV next year but, well, let's just say it would be a great year for Kevin Sorbo. I can't say exactly who was there, but if there really is a Jewish space laser, these guys have the codes.

Anyway the subject we all wanted to talk about that night was cancel culture. It's funny. If this was 10 years ago, this group would have been talking about censorship from the right. Back then it was the Jerry Falwells and Pat Robertsons, the Bill Bennetts and Rush Limbaughs who kept us up at night. I mean besides the cocaine. The book banners and boycotters then were Republicans, like the ones that got me fired after 9-11.

But that's in the past now. And by the past, I mean Florida. And of course not just Florida, today's Republicans have shown that when it comes to canceling they're still more than capable. They canceled Colin Kaepernick for taking a knee, Liz Cheney for defying Trump, Kathy Griffin for performance art. Just last week the redneck royalty of the music world threw a hissy fit because they think Anheuser-Busch is turning their beer gay.

But there's no getting around the fact that what was on the mind of the Liberals that night in Brentwood, or wherever we may have been, was that the most powerful witch hunters now were coming from Twitter, the Ivy League and the progressive left. JK Rowling used to be a villain to the right because she wrote books about witchcraft. Now she's a villain to the left because she has the crazy belief that there's more to being a woman than pronouns and lipstick.

So, that was the point of the evening: how do we take a stand against cancel culture? And I suggested since we were mostly all in show business that we start an award show to honor the brave people who have fought back. Well, I got to tell you, the idea was met with great enthusiasm by everyone, and in short order different people were suggesting the ways that their varied talents could be put to use. And then of course, being Hollywood, nothing happened.

But it's still a good idea. So I'm gonna do it, right here, right now. And not only that, we're gonna do it every year. Ladies and gentlemen, you know the Emmys, you know the Grammys, you know the Tonys, now say hello to the Cojones.

Thank you and welcome to the Cojones. I'm your Master of Ceremonies, and if you're triggered by the word "master" you're in the wrong room. Tonight we present these solid brass balls to the individuals and organizations who others have tried to silence and who answered, "that's not a rule, fuck you."

Our first award goes to the president of my alma mater, Cornell University: Martha Pollock. This month students there demanded trigger warnings before all the lectures in case any of the adult subjects you specifically went to college to learn about came up. And Martha said, "yeah, no, we're not doing that." She didn't cave in or hire a new Dean of Sensitivity. She just said, "no college is for introducing you to new ideas, not for kissing your ass and making you feel wonderful and always right." You're thinking of brunch with your parents. I'm just amazed at how this generation can simultaneously be too sensitive for anything distasteful, and somehow also so into eating ass. So, Cornell, I present you with these balls. I sure could have used them when I was there.

Our next award goes to the place where many Cornell grads will be working next year: Trader Joe's. Trader Joe's, who for years have been selling a line of ethnically themed products trading on the name Joe. For example, they have Trader José's beer. So of course one teenager on Twitter heard the word "José" and said it was racist, and then there was a petition, and then Trader Joe's management did the right thing. They burnt down all their stores and killed themselves. No, they didn't. They said "fuck off you oversensitive little shits, get a life and a sense of humor," and released this statement: "We disagree that any of these labels are racist and we do not make decisions based on petitions." You see how easy it is? So, to the home of the 19 cent banana, here have some nuts.

This next Cojone goes to a man who's dear to my heart for standing up for stand-up. When dozens of Netflix employees walked out over Dave Chappelle's reckless decision to perform comedy on his comedy special, CEO Ted Sarandos could have pulled the special and replaced it with more episodes of "Who Wants to Watch Koreans Get Killed?" But instead he reminded his Netflix employees that comedy exists to push boundaries, and told them, "If you'd find it hard to support our content breath, Netflix may not be the best place for you." So for making the phrase "don't let the door hit you in the ass" never sound better, this is for you Ted.

And you know, when movie lovers get together these days, one phrase that comes up a lot and always makes me sad, "is yeah, you couldn't make that one today." Top of that list is the great "Tropic Thunder" which these scolds have been after for years. But in February, Ben Stiller tweeted, "I make no apologies for Tropic Thunder. It's always been a controversial movie since when we opened. Proud of it and the work everyone did on it." See, people? It's not that hard. He said it and he still got a commercial.

And the lesson is, if you stand up to the mob for just a day or two, their shallow, impatient, immature, smartphone-driven gerbil minds will forget about it and go on to the next nothing-burger, and you? You still will have your Cojones.

==

It takes cojones to speak "truth to power." Which tells you where the power really resides.

--

P.S. I thought he was embellishing the Trader Joe's story, but no, it was literally one triggered teenager.

This language is textbook Postcolonial Theory, not the language of a teenage kid. It's the language of a parishioner reciting the sacred scriptures. (Or perhaps an activist parent feeding them lines.)

[sisitrip]

Zago, The Vulnerable

.GIF by @mickeygifs

Here's the second installment on the Angie/Mickey friendship I never knew was needed. Link to the first part is here and third and final part here.

This was partially born from the scene (S3; E3) where Mickey jealously watches Ian and Ned having drinks at The Fountain. When Mickey confronts them, Ian says "Shit, Mickey. What're you doin' here?" I burned a track in my mind thinking about how Mickey might've responded if Ned hadn't creepily interrupted. For me, I settled on one Mickey response that I would've loved based on the scene below: "M'just showing up, Gallagher."

Warnings: Unbeta'd; length (y'all might need to rein me in); tiny slip into self-harm (so brief and working on it); a growing closeness between friends that is so nice to write 💛🖤

Tagging @energievie @chicanomick @jomilky @ianandmickeygallavich and @creepkinginc because you've been so encouraging. Thank you 😌.

____________________________

Mickey - 17 Years Old

Mickey helps Angie sit on the bed and wrestles with her for the brown bag of Crown Royal. 

“The fuck, Mickey. Gimme my shit,” she complains, when he yanks it away. She’s not quite drunk, but is well on her way and with good reason.

He didn’t show up. Again. 

That dismissive shit had rarely bothered her until him. Somehow, that asshole got her all the way fucked up.

“I’ll give you a fresh one if you don’t chill out,” Mickey says softly, lifting her chin with a gentle finger. “Just the booze or you back on that pill shit?”

She swats at his hand and grabs his wrist, holding on, needing contact.

“Told you. Been done with that shit for almost a year.”

Mickey nods and pats her face. 

“I’ll get water and when I get back, be ready to open that trap and spill.” He gives her cheek a soft pinch.

She squeezes his wrist then lets go. 

“Die horribly,” she says affectionately.

“You first,” Mickey laughs out. He walks away and she miserably yanks at her hair, willing the ache in her chest to go away. 

She’s got to do something or this love shit is going to kill her. She needs to be lost in something other than her thoughts. Lost in someone. Even if it's for the briefest moment, she just wants to stop feeling.

There’s only one thing that helps when she needs to get out of her fucking head. 

Mickey comes back and she locks her eyes on him, on a mission. Yeah, this’ll have to do.

“Ayo, I got some of that expired Tylenol from your bathroom. If you take three you-”

He chokes off as she slides to her knees and starts unbuckling his pants. 

“Angie?” 

He’s frozen, hands stiffly holding a glass of water and the pills. She’s got Mickey where she wants him. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll use two fingers,” she says, determinedly pulling at his zipper. He’s not hard yet, but that never stopped her before. 

She’s reaching into his boxers when the first stream of ice cold water hits the crown of her head. She yelps, flinching. 

“What fuck are you doing?!” she snarls, gasping as the stream continues unabated. “You’re the one who asked me if I wanted to fuck!”

“You know what that's code for. Why are you acting brand new?” Mickey retorts, stepping back from her attempts to punch his dick into hamburger. 

“You done?” he questions softly after she runs out of curses. 

Wet, hurting and frustrated, she grabs her boobs and squeezes them hard, not knowing what else to do. 

“Fuck!” she screams, miserable. She sags onto her side and curls up on the floor.

Mickey joins her, sitting against the bed and avoiding the wet spot on the rug. 

He flicks the empty cup at her, spraying water droplets and laughs when she pinches him.

“Colin didn’t call, huh?” he asks gently after several beats of silence.

“Like I give shit if he calls.” Her watery sigh betrays her bravado. 

“You need to cut him loose, Ang. I keep telling you. You can’t do worse, but you can do better.”

She heaves a wet snort. “You ain’t never lie.” 

They laugh quietly and Mickey’s the first to sober up. 

“You saw him? Ian?” he asks hesitantly. “What’d you think?” 

“Barely saw him. But, you can't miss that hair. You undersold how red it is.”

Mickey shrugs. “Who knew that’d be my type.”

She sits up next to him, pushing her wet hair out of her face. 

“Who knew that a coked out asshole wearing the underwear I bought him could have me so fucking strung out.” They snicker, leaning against each other.

Mickey’s phone rings and he bites his lip, a tell she’s come to recognize. 

“Is that Red?” 

Mickey gives her a stiff middle finger, but doesn’t answer the call. 

She snatches at his phone, grateful for the distraction. 

“Let's tell your little boyfriend how you love cooking.”

Mickey dives to the side protecting his phone from her grabby hands. “I gotta eat don’t I?” He’s wiggling and snorting, holding the phone out of reach.

She slaps a hand at his forearm and digs her knuckles into his ribs. 

“Let me tell him how you describe, in detail, what he wears into the store everyday, and how you keep that security jacket on in ninety-degree weather because he said you look “official and shit.”

“Fuck off, Angie!” Mickey’s red-faced and laughing. “Never telling you shit again.”

In their scuffle, Mickey must have accidentally activated the call and the speakerphone because they both still when a voice speaks hesitantly. 

“Mickey?” 

The reaction in her friend is truly wondrous to behold. He literally uncoils, sagging into a dopey sweetness that makes her smile. He looks lit from within. 

“What is it, Gallagher? Gettin’ my dick wet.”

Angie rolls off Mickey and sits back against the bed. Her friend is also ablaze with idiocy.

Mickey settles next to her, fighting a smile that seems to be completely controlled by his red-haired dick whisperer.

“Linda wants to, uh, to know if you're coming back to the store,” Ian says a touch too casually.

Even she can hear the lie as it trips out of Ian’s mouth.

“I’m on my lunch hour. Tell Linda, it’s a bodega, not a sweatshop. I’ll be back after this nut.” 

She can’t help what she does next because she can feel the hurt wafting through the phone line as Ian responds, sounding resigned and confused. “I’ll tell her, Mick.” 

She slaps the back of Mickey’s head hard and he scrambles to end the call. 

“What the fuck’s your problem?!”

“You, Linda Blair. How fucking evil are you to fuck around with his feelings like that?”

Mickey rubs the back of his head, frowning.

“Sure you’re not projectiling or some shit?” he grumbles. 

“Projecting, Einstein, and maybe! But, that’s besides the point.” She turns to him. “Stop actin’ like we’re fucking and just tell him you like him.”

Mickey looks out the window stubbornly. “Ain’t ready for that.”

“Then let him go.”

“Ain’t ready for that either,” he says softly, digging his phone into his thigh. 

Another tell. Like her, Mickey hurts himself when he feels too much.  They've been working on that. Together.

She pulls his hand away from the spot that’ll have a fresh bruise tomorrow.

“Whatever you decide to do, just try and show him how you feel. Give him something besides this confusing back and forth shit.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” he snarks. “Put his name in my notebook? Make him a mixtape?”

She snorts softly. “I don’t know you idiot. Maybe …,” she looks down at her wet shirt, speaking quietly. “Maybe just show up, you know? Sometimes just showing up is everything.”

Mickey’s looking at her and she can’t look at him. Not yet. Not until she does something about these stupid fucking tears that have been threatening all morning. 

As always, he can feel her distress, so he quickly yanks her wet t-shirt over her head and mushes the wet fabric into her face, helping her hide her tears and her pain. 

“Just show up, huh? Deep thoughts by Angie Zago,” Mickey teases as she pulls her shirt down.  

“And you’re as deep as a puddle," she says lovingly. "Now get the fuck out. I got Mr. Patel coming over.” 

Mickey hops up and extends a hand, helping her stand. 

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking that dry cleaner asshole.”

“Nah. He’s coming for that ointment. The infection down there is almost cleared up.”

Mickey wrinkles his nose, still squeamish about her Amazon sex shop side business. 

“You still getting that shit for him? Tell him to stop fuckin’ without a rubber.”

She shoves his shoulder. “And ruin my best income stream? I order shit for him at least once a month. Fuck that.”

Mickey chuckles. “Bad Bitch Angie. The neighborhood’s very own ‘down low/do dirt’ marketplace.” He reaches out and snaps her bra strap. “You should give me a cut. I started it all.”

She grabs him into a headlock, smushing his face into her wet shirt. 

“You started shit, damn near literally. My fingers still smell like your ass and it’s been a year motherfucker.” 

Mickey wiggles out of her hold and dodges her slap. 

“You should be so lucky, bitch,” he laughs out. “See you, tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Steal me some more tampons.” 

He’s stepping into the hallway when she stops him, forcing herself to do the one thing she'd been dreading for months. 

“Mickey?” He turns back. “If you see him, tell that fuck I ain’t waiting no more.” Her voice is husky, but she gets it out.

Mickey’s face softens into sadness. He tilts his chin, holding his head up, waiting. With effort, she does the same, drawing her shoulders back and raising her head too.

“Good for you,” he says quietly, then leaves after winking at her.  

When he’s gone, she finally lets the tears come. All losses, even if the person you’re mourning is worthless, should be acknowledged.

She changes her bra and t-shirt and by the time she’s done repacking the ointment for Mr. Patel into a Just For Men box, she’s no longer crying.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Bones 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); harassment, general creepiness.

This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown and When the Weight Comes Down

Note: Another random update of a series for y’all as I toil away at drabbles in between!

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Masterlist

Your skin crawled as you walked to work the next morning. The memories of the night before made you cringe and tuck your chin down as you kept your eyes ahead of you. You feared if you looked around, you might summon the incessant biker from his hole.

The library was as empty as any other day and you claimed your seat at the curved desk. You booted up and sipped from your thermos, the coffee bitter on your tongue as you watched Melissa appear from the non-fiction section. She sat in her own chair and yawned as she signed on.

The monotony of Birch was sobering after the night in the dank bar. The bikers and their own little world, a microcosm of the worst types all in one place. You went about your usual tasks, there were a few returns on the cart to put back on the shelves and you walked the shelves and checked for out of order codes.

The hours slaked by like the peaks of a mountain against ancient gales. The stale lights made the days stretch to tedium and the grey without added to the sense of listlessness. Colin’s low snores escaped the back room and Melissa sorted through bent paperbacks in a far aisle to put out for the Sunday penny sale.

As the windows darkened, Colin gave his usual grumbled farewell and further mussed his wavy hair as he tried to smooth it out. It didn’t matter much as he covered it with the old faded Leafs toque and left through the automatic doors. His shadow was soon followed by Melissa as she looked forward to seeing her daughter and watching some new program on the local channel.

You were the last as you walked the aisles before final lock-up. The automatic doors were off as you checked for unlikely stragglers. You came back to the round desk and flipped off the lights for all but the entry way and the back office. You pushed open the door and locked the outside ones with a jangle of keys. As you turned back, you gripped the big key to the back door and shook your head.

You stepped through the space between the inner doors and stared at the man behind your desk. He sat in your chair, your purse sat before him on the counter as he shoved a large hand inside. You crossed your arms and watched Thor as he pulled out your coral coloured wallet and unsnapped it.

“What are you doing?” You asked harshly. “How did you get in here?”

He snickered and pulled out a card and lifted it up to look at it closely. He leaned back and flicked it with his thumb. “I knew you were a city girl.” He said.

“Get out. We’re closed.”

“Sorry, I’m late. I’m a busy man.” He slid the card back in place and searched the rest, uninterested by the few bills inside the fold and your various reward cards and outdated alumni ID.

“Late? You don’t seem the reading type. We don’t have that many audiobooks.” You neared and grabbed the other handle of your purse. “There’s an app for that now.”

Again, he laughed and dropped your wallet into the depths of your purse. He released it and pushed his shoulders back as you dragged the bag off the desk. He tilted his head and held up your phone in its shiny lavender case. He smirked as the screen lit up and he swiped it open. You never should have added the library as a trusted location.

“Hmm,” he turned it to face him and scrolled with his thumb, “I think you’re missing a number in here.”

“Give it.” You reached for the phone and he held it away from you like some annoying teenager. “Hey… Thor! Give me it. It’s mine!”

His blonde lashes flashed and he looked at you with delight. “Oooh, I love it when you say my name.”

“Stop. You can’t be in here and you certainly can’t--” 

You swiped for the phone again and he caught your arm. He yanked you so hard you almost left the floor and you dropped your purse and keys. He held you over the counter as he twisted your wrist just a little.

“And who exactly is going to make me leave?”

He kept his thick fingers locked around your wrist as he searched your phone. You struggled with him but it only sent a violent jolt up to your elbow.

“I can do whatever I want and you can’t do anything to stop me. In fact, there’s no one in this town who can.” His jaw clenched and he locked your phone. “Well, kitten, I’m going to hold onto this.” He let go of you and stood as you retracted your arm and rubbed your sore wrist. “And when you want to be a good girl for me, you can come find me and ask for it nicely.”

“Ask? You’re crazy. It’s mine. You’re--” you sputtered.

You swallowed as his hand balled to a fist and his brow twitched. It was the first hint of anything but amusement. It was much more troubling, a slight tell. He was angry.

“I’ve been nice, kitten. I like you and your claws but don’t scratch too deep.” He warned as he backed away. “I’ll see my way out unless of course… you would take me up on my offer from last night.”

“Go. Keep the fucking phone.” You snarled and reached for your purse and the keys. 

You stood and watched as he ran his tongue just below his teeth and turned away. He snaked his way through the back office and you heard the heavy metal door whine in his stead. You locked the inner doors and grabbed your jacket from the rack.

You went to the same door and hit the lights. You activated the security system and stepped out with a cautious look around the vacant parking lot. You locked the door and headed around the side of the brick building and out into the glow of the streetlights.

You could get a new phone, that was nothing, just a chunk out of your check. He could search your contacts, your apps, your phones, he’d find nothing but the pathetic life of a thirtysomething wash out. That wasn’t what worried you. 

He was watching you. He had to be. He knew when you were alone and he knew how to get in. You might not see him but you were certain he could see you. You shivered and pulled your hate over your head and puffed out a cloud. 

💀

You went home angry but slightly addled from the encounter. You watched over your shoulder the entire way home and locked your door with the tarnished chain. You found it hard to settle as you debated marching over to the bar and demanding your phone back and opening the wine you hadn’t touched since your impulsive purchase. You really hated Thor but you knew you could push him much further before he did something much worse.

You ignored your wrath and ate your dinner in front of the television before hiding under your covers and watching the snowfall until you fell asleep. Every night was as dull as the one before and the morning always came too quickly.

You woke and readied for your day with a cup of home-brewed Colombian roast and packed your lunch. You searched for your phone for two seconds before you remembered where it was. Your neck prickled as you thought of Thor with access to all your information and the barren social media accounts. 

The snow was even deeper that day and you fought through the thick carpet. The library felt twice as far by the time you reached it and you were panting as you entered and shook off the powder. You took your usual spot at the usual time with your usual thermos and usual disillusion.

You whiled away the hours without the distraction of your phone. You realised how easily this man could torture you and not even be in the same place as you. You went searching in the aisles for something to do and scraped the gum off the bottom of the tables. A disgusting task but work nonetheless.

When the end of the day came, you were all too happy to go home and hide under your duvet with a tea and a sitcom. You hated this. You would go to the city and get a new phone if you had too. God, how much would that cost?

💀

The days slogged by and on your first free day, you were too tired to make the drive out of town. You resigned to your procrastination, instead taking a short walk down the main street to Babs’. Your usual order, but cinnamon instead of caramel in your latte, and a scone to enjoy at home.

The snow remained as thick as days before. You looked out the bakery window in dread as you awaited your order at the end of the counter. You still caught yourself reaching for your phone. If you waited too long, you might not even be able to make it into the city. Well, you could always order something online. 

The door chimed as Steve’s girl came to the other side of the counter and placed your latte out for you. She smiled and you thanked her but her eyes rounded as you heard boots come close. You turned, barely surprised by the man who was better described as your shadow those days. 

Since his visit to the library, Thor had made himself known in several instances, every day as you walked home he was outside the asp, watching. Other times, he’d be waiting by the steps of the library, mocking you silent as he pulled out your phone. You had too much pride to ask for it back and you knew that it would take more than asking.

You tried to sidestep him and he blocked your path. The foam pushed out through the hole in the plastic lid and you sighed.

“What do you want?” you hissed.

“I should ask you. I don’t know many girls these days can go days without their lifeline,” he taunted, “You know, it’s dangerous how much of ourselves we keep on these little things.”

He patted his jacket where he no doubt had your phone hidden. You looked down at your latte and thought of popping the lid off and tossing it at him. That wouldn’t be any good. You shrugged and looked past him.

“I gotta go--”

“Is there anything I can get you, Thor?” Steve’s girl eked out as if her voice could barely fit through her windpipe.

“I’ve come for something sweet but I think I found it,” he smirked, his eyes stuck to you.

“Give it up,” you scoffed and elbowed past him. He chuckled and followed you to the door as you sped up, your treads squeaking on the salt-stained floor.

“On you? Never,” he purred as you pulled the door open and he caught it behind you.

“You can break the phone for all I care,” you snarled, “just leave me alone.”

He kept up with you as flakes gathered on your scarf and you peered down the street and ran across. His boots crunched in time with yours as he lingered in your peripheral. You spun as you came to a stop on the other side and scowled.

“Jesus, I thought dogs were supposed to be obedient,” you snapped.

“I can be,” he winked and reached to brush the snow from the hair poking out from under your cap, “I’ll gladly get to my knees for you, kitten.”

You snapped at his hand and he pulled away with a surprised laugh. You gritted your teeth and took a step back.

“I won’t tell you again and I’m getting real tired of this.”

“You keep forgetting who you’re meowing at, kitten,” he stepped closer and you backed away again.

You turned and flitted away from him. You had not planned for him in your day off and you weren’t going to let him ruin it. You wanted to go home and enjoy your coffee, alone. However, that meant leading him to your front door. You stopped again.

“Go,” you pointed across the street at the Asp, the town’s marquee.

“Oh, kitten, you’re so cute,” he tugged on your scarf and you swatted him away.

“Alright, that’s it!” you smashed your cup against his chest and the hot liquid steamed as it splashed across his front and dripped down his leather jacket. 

He held out his arms as he looked down at himself and slowly back to you. His blue eyes dilated as the ends of his golden hair sopped with caffeine. It was too late to apologize, too futile. You sputtered and quickly turned away.

You were thankful when you didn’t hear him behind you. You stopped and peaked back at the corner of the next side street. He watched you still and even at a distance you could see his rage.

If you hoped he’d lose interest, that optimism was dead.

💀

A snow storm stagnated the already stale town and you could guess that the highway was even worse. You could replace your sim online but that would take at least a week to arrive and with the weather, likely longer. It might be quicker to wait out the blizzard. You stayed in limbo, reluctant to pull the trigger.

You kept to your apartment for the rest of the weekend, with no reason or want to leave. On your way, you didn’t see him. You sighted a few figures through the falling powder but they were faces familiar to the streets. You kept an eye over your shoulder, glancing around every few steps.

You avoided the cafe. He might look for you there, he might even be waiting for you. You sat down at your desk but felt out of place. He could walk through those doors like he had only days before. He could taunt you and tease you. What made you so antsy was that he could do worse than that. You knew it but you’d let your temper get the best of you. A wasted latte might have cost you everything.

By the end of your shift, it was decided. You were leaving Birch. No one could know until you were gone. Not Melissa, not Colin, no one. You old all-weathers would have to get you down the highway, just to the city so you could lose yourself there until you had a real plan. Even as the snow piled higher and higher, there could be no delay. You’d waited long enough.

Paranoid, you were certain you’d be met again on your path home. The town was dead as the soft blanket covered the ground. The flakes turned to mounds and the tops of your boots let in errant clumps of snow. The store may as well been closed for the day, the library had been little different but its lethargy was expected. Even The Asp seemed to have dulled with the pale gusts.

You packed a bag. One. The apartment came furnished and you never cared much for miscellany. Anything you left behind was replaceable. You went down the back stairs and cleaned off your small Focus. Used but reliable. You were out of breath as you climbed into the driver’s seat and threw the brush in the back.

You drove carefully down the side streets, snaking around as you knew the main fair would give away your escape. You stopped at the sign that pointed to the highway ramp and wondered. 

What if he had got the clue? What if you were running from nothing?

You remember the look in his eye and shivered. No, that glimmer assured you that return to your mother’s was as wise as it would be torturous. You followed the arrow and took the curve steadily with your foot planted on the gas. The traffic was slow and cautious as headlights were barely visible through the snowfall.

You gripped the wheel tightly and let out a breath. You would be gone before he knew. You’d get a new phone, a new job, a new life. Even if it was just pay-as-go, a McDonald’s visor, and your mother’s couch for a while. What good was a job in a place like Birch anyway? Just as good as your irrelevant degree.

You were startled and nearly lost control as a set of lights appeared behind you in the next lane. They were dangerously close to dinging your rear bumper as the reckless driver took a u-turn right before the upcoming barriers. You wrinkled your brow as you glared at them through the white haze. What kind of maniac was pulling shit like that in this weather?

And then, they did hit you. A nudge but enough to send you veering in the thick lines of snow. You clutched the wheel and tried to steer into it, tried to right yourself as you were knocked again. Your heart was in your throat as the engine revved and you hit your brakes, not knowing what else to do as a third collision came.

You spun out and hit the cement wall along the far lane, narrowly missing another car as it pulled ahead. You stilled, your seatbelt saving your face from a smack against the wheel, and stared down the highway as you stared at oncoming traffic. You were completely turned around on the arm.

You caught your breath and reached for your purse. Fuck, you had no phone. What was that asshole thinking? It didn’t seem like an accident.

The car that had bullied you into a crash pulled up along the barrier. You watched in the rear view as the barely visible tail lights glowed and a dark figure appeared between the car and the concrete. You squinted as the man neared, a long coat flapped around his tall figure as he held his hand to his face.

He came up beside your car as you heard his voice muffled through the glass and tapped on your window. He bent and knocked again as you shot him the finger. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind. You rolled down the window with the manual crank and growled, “what the fuck!?”

“Can I have your name, darling?” he asked in a sinisterly familiar accent.

“Screw you! You almost killed me!”

He turned his phone out as you screeched at him and quickly put it back to his ear, “that sound like her?”

A deep voice rumbled in the speaker and the dark-hair man nodded as he shielded his face from the blowing snow, “you owe me, brother.”

“Who the fuck are you?” you spat and reached to your glovebox. You grabbed the heavy flashlight and swung it at him, “get away--”

He caught with a leather-gloved hand and glared back at you. He tucked away the phone in his jacket. His nostrils flared and his green irises caught fire. 

“Let’s not do this, darling,” he warned, “my brother has given me clearance to use whatever force necessary…” he pushed the button and pulled open your door as he wrenched away the metal flashlight, “and while he seems the bigger brute, I assure you his cruelty cannot match mine.”

[sinnersmovie]

Top 5 scrubs moments (jdox version and regular version)

Tyler, you're the true mvp always 🥰

Regular in no particular order:

In My Finale when JD is walking down the hall past everyone and then what he sees on the screen 😭

Ted singing Hey Ya! in the Bahamas (also makes me a little sad now that Sam is gone)

The entirety of My Musical tbh

In My Cake when Perry tells JD he's proud of him and they watch football and JD and Dan talk about their dad (and not even from a JDox perspective) and Wine and Roses by Jeremy Kay plays and they show John Ritter's name at the end

It's gotta be My Lunch and just how flawlessly they shift from comedy with the Todd's storyline into Perry's scene at the end and I will never be the same

(Honorable mention being all 3 eps with Brendan Fraser bc duh)

Fuck also My Overkill with Colin Hay singing

JDox in no particular order:

Up on the roof standing side by side after they lose Mrs. Wilk

After they have identical TTP patients and JD's dies (hey ace, your TTP patient coded. He died?! I sure hope so, otherwise that autopsy's gonna be a bitch) and Perry tells him he was watching over him and wasn't a favor, it was my job and then Under Pressure plays

My Fallen Idol and JD being the one to help Perry out of it and then Perry's "JD, thank you" and the pat on his back 😭

Perry telling JD in the s1 finale that he trusts him as a doctor and as a person and JD goes "are you dying" "I've got a new shrink"

In My Lunch when Perry takes JD for lunch bc he says he's not going to let JD blame himself and basically that he's going to get him through this

[side-shawty]

What the Tech?

Fandom: DC

Type: one-shot

Prompt/Summary: Damian Wayne with a quirky, tech-savvy girl.

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne x Reader

Requested? YES by Anon

This is an old old old request that I found in my drafts when I had a different fic account and I figured I’d share it with all of you. I was too shy to post things like this back then but now I’m more than happy to. (I couldn't find the og request so that's what it is lol)

-Duckie

Stupid Hackers.

Technically speaking it wasn’t exactly Damian’s fault that his katana had practically sliced Tim’s laptop in half. He should have never been working so close to the training area in the first place.

So now here he was, spending his free period in the library grumbling at his laptop as he attempted to break the codes that Tim had put on it as his way of revenge.

That was when you walked in. As per usual, you were spending your free period working on a new coding program in hopes of impressing the judges at the Wayne Tech contest next month. You always impressed the judges. However, it became harder and harder to work with Damian Wayne cursing under his breath and slamming on keys.

With a sigh you stood up, dark curls swishing in your face with the speed, and waltzed over to him.

You put a hand on the desk he was working at and leaned over the back of the computer, “What exactly did that laptop do to you?” You questioned looking curiously at your fellow senior.

“And what does it matter to you?” He asked without ever looking up at you.

“It matters because I can feel your frustration from the other side of the library, Damian Wayne.”

At the use of his full name the young heir finally looked up at you. This was your first time seeing him so close since the week-long project you did together freshman year. Since then it had been distance looks from the other side of the classroom and your stupid school girl crush came back ten-fold.

He was no longer the baby-faced 14-year-old and puberty had hit him like a truck. His face was all angles, blue eyes, and tan olive skin with a head of black hair that Y/N wanted to run her fingers through.

As Y/N cleared her throat and stood up straight again she failed to realize that Damian was having the same train of thought. He thought of how much she had filled out in all the right places and how she had gone from cute to dangerously sexy in the past few years—even in the school uniform. Her dark skin stood out against the pristine white of her button-down and her curls were a casually organized mess.

He cleared his throat, throwing a playboy smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair. “Y/N Y/L/N, just the person I need. You’re good with computers right?”

You rolled your eyes, “Well I’d hope so considering I am the head of the computer club. What do you need?”

“One of my many idiot brothers has decided to put a series of codes and viruses on my computer and on it, I have a paper that’s due at midnight. Mind lending a hand,” he asked with a voice that could have made you rob a bank if he so desired. Walt, was he flirting with you?

“I’m sure if you just apologize and ask nicely he’d remove everything,” Y/N told moving around the table and leaning over slightly to have a better took at the screen.

“You don’t know my brother,” Damian scoffed, “he’d make me grovel and I refuse to ever have to stoop to that humiliating level,” he said, nose in the air and crossed arms.

You sighed, “Well move over and let me see what the damage is,” you motioned him to switch over to the next chair whilst you took his seat and got straight to work.

As time ticked by the awkwardness that had settled in the silence was driving Y/N crazy so she stared to ask Damian questions while she worked and soon enough he began to ask too. The awkwardness was long forgotten by the time the bell interrupted Damian’s next question about animals.

“Well if you have a last period class I can finish up here. I have computer graphics but I’m excused for today,” Y/N told him.

“It’s fine,” Damian replied, too quickly before he cleared his throat and regained his composure, “I have history but Mrs. James is so old she’ll forget to take attendance again.”

“Okay, well in that case maybe we should take a little break,” you stood and stretched all of your limbs exposing just a bit more leg that the young man couldn’t help but stare at as you went back into a standing position and held your hand out to him. He took it almost instantly and felt a warm electricity in his hand and spread all through him. you gave him a warm smile before walking to the vending machines just outside of the library.

“Pick anything you want, this one’s on me,” you said with a wink and never let go of his hand as you fished a debit card from your breast pocket.

Damian got an energy bar and you got a pack of skittles, your hands were intertwined until you sat down again and Damian felt an immediate loss of warmth.

You were about to start working again when you froze, “Good lord Damian is your brother so kind of brainiac level hacker? He put like fifteen more locks on it while I left,” You gave a heavy sigh and leaned far back in your chair, silently counting to ten before pulling eyedrops from your bag, using them, throwing your curls into a messy bun and cracking your knuckles.

He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples, “Maybe I should just rewrite the paper.”

You laughed and patted his shoulder reassuringly, “Don’t worry I can help.”

And with that, you stood to get your abandoned laptop from its place at the next table over just as the bell ending the final class of the day sounded.

You and Damian looked to each other in question.

“Do you, uh, wanna finish this back at my place?” Damian asked bashfully with a hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“No!” you answered too quickly, and it took everything for the Wayne heir not to flinch, “Um, I mean, we can just go to my house. I live closer and, uh, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” it was your turn to look sheepish as Damian smiled softly.

Not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable Damian said, “Okay, I’ll drive.”

And that’s how it started. Every day you and Damian would meet up during free period and then after last class (if either of you went) he’d drive you home. His excuse was because he insisted that the beginnings of October were much too cold to walk home in a skirt and tights.

You couldn’t argue and you didn’t really want to.

During the daily meet-ups, Damian couldn’t help but notice the little things about you, like how you never wore the uniform tie and seemed to have a different color or patterned one every day. How you loved to change up the style of your curly hair as much as you could.

One day after school you asked Damian if he could drive you to the hair solan instead of home and when he asked why you saw a glint of sadness in his eyes. Why would you want to change anything about those beautiful curls?

But when you told him you were going to get box braids he seemed much happier. He even stayed with you for all the hours it took to finish them. This was when Damian knew he was in too deep, going as far as checking on your house during patrol and never telling the others why he’d stopped coming home immediately after school (or earlier).

Damian was happier and he knew the reason was you. He was happy with knowing that fact, and he told himself being your friend was more than enough. He was wrong.

Damian usually got to the library first but he got caught up talking to Colin and Maps on his way and when he got there your attention was occupied by one of the football players. He was obviously flirting with you and Damian hated the feeling that this gave him. But some of the tension fell when he realized how desperate you seemed to get out of that situation.

So Damian sprung into action and approached the two of you. You caught his eye over the jock’s shoulder. A look of utmost relief on your face and Damian cooly slid in and put an arm around your shoulders.

“Everything alright here, Y/N,” Damian asked as you placed a warm hand on his back in gratitude.

“Fine, Wayne, I was just asking Y/N here about her plans after the game on Friday,” the jock, Brandon, said smiling at you and doing his best to ignore Damian altogether.

Damian’s back muscles tensed beneath the white button-down at his words, “I’m afraid she’ll be otherwise occupied,” Damian replied and after being friends with him since the beginning of the school year you could read him much better now. But this was something different, like a mix of anger, and annoyance and…jealousy?

But that was crazy. Right? Why would Damian be jealous, it made no sense. Unless...

“Well, that's too bad. I guess we’ll catch up some other time, yeah?” He asked and you only nodded with a tight smile on your lips before Brandon turned and left. But Damian never let go of your shoulders.

You looked up at him but his eyes were glued to the spot that Brandon once stood, glaring.

“Damian,” you said looking to get his attention.

And when he turned to you, all of the tension instantly left him and he found himself lost in your Y/E/C orbs, kind face showing nothing but concern for him. He took in all of your features, from the polka dot hair tie to the electric blue tie tucked beneath her sweater vest. He realized he’d been staring for too long, but couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?” You asked and he smiled softly at you. A smile only you ever got to see.

“No it’s perfect,” he almost whispered.

Though the blush wasn’t prominent the heat worked its way into your cheeks anyway.  

“Good. Now quick question.”

“Mmm?” he hummed.

“We’re you jealous?” You asked with raised eyebrows and his eyes widened in the slightest.

He sputtered just a bit and released his hold of your shoulders in favor of standing across from you.

Damian didn’t look at you as he asked, “Does it matter if I was?”

You stood shocked for a few seconds at his earnestness before replying in a teasing voice.

“Damian Wayne was jealous over little old me? Wow wait until the papers hear about this one,” you said and he finally turned to you at that.

“I might have a better story for them,” he told you, and his sudden mischievous aura sent a tingle down your back.

“And what would that be?” You asked.

“This,” he said before unexpectedly closing the distance between the two of you in a sweet kiss. He tasted like peppermint and you were quick to melt into him as he placed his hands on your waist.

When you finally pulled back he was smiling and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“Oh yeah, Vicky Vale would have a field day with that one.”

[synthsoup]

jealousy (colin ritman x reader)

Request : pleASE give me a colin imagine where they work together and maybe like sit across from each other and they both secretly have feelings for each other and when Stefan visits tuckersoft he’s talking to the reader and makes him jealous. sorry about the lengthy request!          

Warnings : nope

Words : 1.7k

A/N : there is in fact a lack of colin fics so in the name of high demand i’ve decided i now wanna write a heck ton of colin imagines and fics so there please enjoy.

***

The clacking of keyboards is the only sound heard in the almost empty office building. Your eyes are burning from staring at the computer screen all day and while it is sometimes exhausting, mentally at least, you still love your job. You were quite forced into being an exceptionally hard worker, being one of the only females in the office, and you had managed to meet the level of even Colin Ritman. Hence, why you two often stayed late together and very quickly bonded, forming a friendship.

You sigh and lean back into your chair as you finish the last task of the day and glance up. You look up at the platinum haired boy in front of you and give a tired smile at his furrowed eyebrows. The changing colors of the computer screen reflect onto his face, as when everyone else left and turned the lights off, the two of you were still to absorbed in your own work to notice.

You’re so caught up in thought that you only realize you’re staring when he waves his hand in front of your face.

“Hello? You still there?” he says as you shake your head and give a quick chuckle. You sigh and rub your eyes with your hands.

“I’m ready to go home” you say realizing the time. “What about you?”

“Nah, iv’e still got a few things to do” he says as you nod

“Better not take to long, that kids coming in tomorrow to pitch his idea, remember?” you question raising an eyebrow.

“Sure I remember, I won’t be to long.” he says. You nod and give him a smile, throwing your jacket on. You don’t notice his gaze remain on you, however, when you fluff your hair out of your jacket and pick up your bags.

“See you tomorrow yeah?”

“See you.” he says giving a quick salute. You laugh again and head out of the office with a smile on your face.

~ next day ~

You had long since arrived at work, and were typing away code amongst the dull chatter of the workplace. You were taking a small break sipping your coffee and glancing at the loads of papers sprawled among your desk in distaste. Being so gathered up in your thoughts you didn’t even notice Colin studying you face across from you until you suddenly looked up and acknowledged him. You give him an friendly look and lean in to say something when you notice another boy talking to Mr.Thakur.

“Colin Ritman? I’ve played all of his games.” the boy says

“Let’s say hello.”

You look at Colin and speak this time, leaning forward and grazing his hand with your fingers. You still don’t notice the way he looks at you and is telling himself mentally to calm down

“Looks like you’ve got a fan.” You joke and avert your gaze to the approaching newcomer. You don’t speak for the first few moments, you think it’s rather amusing how interested the new boy is in Colin’s work.

“Anyways, this is Stefan, er…”

“Butler, butler.”

You give him a warm smile and introduce yourself

“Y/N L/N” you say and stretch your arm out to shake his hand out. You think you may be oblivious to many things but you were not, however, oblivious to the way his face turned completely red once he caught sight of you. And you were definitely not oblivious to the way his eyes kept flickering back to you once Colin introduced himself.

You were completely and utterly clueless though, to the way Colin’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as soon as he noticed Stefan’s behavior towards you.

After a quick conversation, the four of you headed into the conference room to demo his game. You hop up to sit on the table next to Colin and nudge him with your shoulder giggling a bit after an interesting conversation about Jerome F. Davies.

Often times after you made a witty remark or said something in regards to your extensive knowledge of the recent technology, the new dark haired boy would look at you with admiration and give you a smile or a quick laugh. He looked at you almost in awe, never really talking much with girls much less one that seemed completely equal to him in knowledge on things he was interested in.

When Colin noticed this once again, he straitened up and unconsciously scooted closer to you. You did notice this however, and after a brief moment of confusion looked up at his face which was once again absorbed in the game play, if not somewhat stern looking. You just shrugged it off and waited for the meeting to wrap up.

Soon enough it was over, and on a relatively good note at that. Everyone said there goodbyes and good lucks to Stefan and when it was your turn you walked up to him and grinned.

“Good luck Stefan, really. I think it’s gonna turn out really well.”

“Tha- thanks Y/N. It was really nice meeting you.” He says a sounding a bit nervous and giving his best attempt at a calm smile.

“Likewise” you say chuckling at his apprehensive demeanor and give him a quick pat on the shoulder before making your way to the break room for a snack. Blissfully unaware of Colin absolutely fuming in the corner, you skip into the room and put a few bills and some change into the vending machine. You’re humming a little song to yourself and the rattling of the vending machine returning coins distracts you from the door closing.

When you turn around you jump, seeing Colin making himself some coffee.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there.” you breathed putting your hand over your heart. When he doesn’t answer you try again.

“So, how’s it going?” you question. Still nothing. At this point you’ve known him long enough to know to leave him alone when he’s in a mood, usually he’ll sort things out by the end of the day. You give a quick puff and leave him to his own devices hoping he’ll come around sooner or later.

The end of the day approached without warning, and after straining your eyes once again, you and Colin remained the only people in the office. He still hadn’t talked to you since the break room, and watching the furrow between his brows increase with each hour, it still seemed he was irritated or something. He’d been forcing himself to work non stop all day and you were feeling a bit of worry by the end of it. After what must've been the 100th time he’s made a frustrated sound all day, you decide to put a stop to it.

“Colin?” you say. No answer.

“Colin.” you try again, louder. Still nothing. His typing increases in speed and a look of frustration forms on your face.

“Colin, if you don’t talk to me I can’t help you.”

“That would be the idea.” he drawled. You scoff,

“Oh come on. I don’t know what you’re so pissed about but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

He stands up so quickly you back up a bit, and again once you see the color rising to his cheeks. You stare at each other each other and he steps back a bit as you reach for your bag and gather your papers.

“So how about that Stefan guy huh?” he spits in annoyance. You shoot up, standing straight.

“What are you talking about?” if this was his way of making conversation after completely ignoring you all day he had another thing coming, you think.

“Well you two really seemed to hit it off right?” he utters, words laced with venom. For a few beats it’s silent as you analyze his face, then it hits you and a grin spreads across your face.

“Wait. You’re jealous.” you say in disbelief. All of the signs were there and as his jaw clenches and his face slightly contorts into an expression of irritation you know you’ve hit the nail on the head.

“ I am not I-”

“You’re really going to stand there and tell me your not. Really Colin you’re acting ridiculous and if you really think i’m going to listen to you a-”

“Y/N”

“You’ve been acting like a jerk to me all day after that kid came in and I can’t b-”

“It’s because I love you!” he practically yells. Your heart must’ve stopped right then and there. The guy that had been nothing but nice to you, who you shared countless inside jokes with, who you’ve had a huge crush on since you had been assigned to desks across from each other.

“I love- I love you. Y/N you are literally the only reason I've ever been distracted by my work, and the thought of you being with anyone else just infuriates me.

In the heat of the moment you both had ended up nose to nose, and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He loved you. And you distracted him from work apparently, which was saying quite a lot. Getting caught up in your own thoughts you snapped back into reality.

He was staring at you intently now. It looked as if he was about to say something, but before he could you closed the remaining distance between the two of you. You kissed him, and after a quick moment of shock he kisses you back. He pulls you close to him and picks you up, turning around and setting you down on his desk. You wrap your legs around his waist as your lips meet, and you wound your arms around his neck. He puts his hands on your lower back and pulls you into him, your lips moving together perfectly.

When you’re both out of breath you pull away and your foreheads rest together. It’s silent, the only sound is your breathing and the faint sound of passing cars outside. He brushes some hair behind your ear and you trace your fingers over his jaw.

“Well you don’t have to be jealous you know.” You murmur.

“I know now that’s for sure.” he says and you both laugh. The pair of you stay like that for a while, and everything seems good. Maybe jealousy isn’t such a bad thing after all.

***

requests are open!

[jbuffyangel]

The Code: Arrow 7x21 Review (Living Proof)

You guys know me pretty good by now, so it should shock no one that I love this episode. Tommy takes a vacation from heaven to argue morality with Oliver while he’s stuck in a life or death situation. SOLD.  

Of course, there are problems in “Living Proof” just like any other episode of Arrow. Unfortunately, Olicity is separated for most of it, but they are each struggling with the best way to protect their family. A common theme this year is Oliver and Felicity being on separate, but same trajectories. They reach a conclusion on an individual level, so they can come together and make decisions as a couple. “Living Proof” is a perfect set up for Arrow’s season finale and Olicity’s final episode.

Let’s dig in...

Oliver and Tommy

TOOOOOMMMMYYYY!!!! 

I’m always Laurel when I see Tommy Merlyn. I’m not kidding when I say I love him. It’s not just nostalgia of Arrow days long past. Tommy had a profound impact on Oliver and his journey. Oliver has lost a lot of loved ones, but Tommy’s death really changed his mind about how he should go about saving the city and what it truly means to be a vigilante. Tommy sparked Oliver’s desire to be more – to be a hero. So, it makes absolute sense Tommy appears to Oliver now to deal with his latest morality crisis.

Emiko blew up a building and Oliver is trapped underneath a giant piece of concrete. He’s uncomfortably close to some rebar too and the Tommy parallels are anything, but subtle. Oliver is literally in the same life and death situation that befell is best friend six years ago. Are the writers putting Oliver in this position, so his “hallucination” of Tommy makes sense? Perhaps… or perhaps something deeper happening unbeknownst to Oliver.

Source: smoakmonster

I firmly believe Colin was not allowed to grow a beard while on Arrow because it would overload whatever hotness Stephen Amell was bringing to the table and since he’s the lead that cannot be allowed. I know my truth.

Source: smoakmonster 

Tommy psychoanalyzing Oliver’s mind to explain his appearance is a hoot. Hallucination, concussion or just some good old-fashioned PTSD are all on the table, except for the one that’s the actual truth. But we aren’t there yet. We weren’t wrong to notice the similarities between Oliver’s current situation and Tommy’s death though. There’s always a reason my friends.

Source: smoakmonster 

Oliver escapes from underneath the concrete and Tommy helps with his dislocated shoulder. We enjoy some of Tommy’s patented banter (I missed him so), but he’s here to talk about family - sisters to be specific. 

HA! I love Oliver’s “Don’t sass me look.” At least everyone is agreed this storyline would be far more entertaining if Thea went all evil. Instead, we have Emiko and Tommy wants to know how Oliver is going to deal with her.

Tommy: Speaking of, what about Emiko? What kind of solution are you planning for her?

Oliver: The one she deserves. She let our father die.

SERIOUSLY OLIVER? KILLING? ARE WE BACK TO THIS? 

Oh, hang on I don’t have to yell at him. Tommy is taking care of it for me. 

Source:  ebett

See why I love him? He has a hot beard and says my words because we samesies.

Emiko dropped another bomb on Oliver last week when she confessed to knowing about Merlyn’s plan for the Gambit and letting their father die. Oliver is pretty ticked about it, which is understandable. His sister has lied and manipulated her way into his life while wearing his superhero suit no less (RUDE), she was an accessory to their father’s murder or suicide (whichever way you want to look at it), sent Oliver to hell for five years and, to top it all off, is a terrorist. She also dropped a building on him and the team.

Yeah, I’d say the angry face is warranted. 

Source: smoakmonster 

Emiko is the worst. Not just her actions, but she’s kind of a snoozer personality wise.  None of that means Oliver should kill her though. He must move beyond that kind of thinking.

As horrible as Emiko’s actions are, she unknowingly was the catalyst for Oliver becoming someone who could stop her. It’s a mind bender when you think about it. Oliver’s life is filled with loss and immense suffering. However, that suffering has led to immense love and joy. Oliver has created a family beyond the one he was born into. His life has traveled on a path no one could predict.

I’m not saying it’s okay that Emiko and Merlyn killed Robert or that Slade killed Moira. But we’ve glimpsed the “What if?” with Oliver already. He would be happy, but not a hero. If Oliver wants to serve true justice, then he must look at the bad and the good.

Barry: We both got a look at what life would look like normal.

Oliver: It would have been happy.

Barry: But not full.

Oliver: No. Nowhere close.

Barry: To things not being normal.

Oliver: To life being full.

Tommy tries to defend Emiko and I’m pumping the breaks right there. Listen my delicious bearded cupcake; there are plenty of fathers who abandon their children. It’s an epidemic from my point of view; however, they don’t all become terrorists. The “blame Dad” routine is tired. It is possible to hold Emiko responsible for her actions short of killing, but we don’t need to excuse the behavior either.

If you’re tired of the kill/don’t kill debate well then, I’m sorry. It’s an integral part of the show because this is how the writers gauge Oliver’s morality and his evolution as a superhero. They will always circle back to it just like they will always circle back to Robert Queen and the “sins of the father” theme. Family, guilt, responsibility, redemption, teamwork, heroism, sacrifice, killing, love, legacy – these are all the building blocks of Arrow. The bow and arrow will always be how Oliver fights crime. Killing will always be barometer for his morality.

But didn’t Oliver already decide to stop killing after Prometheus? Didn’t he stop blaming himself for Robert Queen’s death? 

He realized killing can create an unforeseen monster. Adrian Chase was the blueprint for what not to become, so Oliver forgave himself for Robert Queen’s death.  He also stopped viewing the mask as a conduit for his darkness.

So why are we talking about killing again? Oliver didn’t kill Diaz. He didn’t kill anyone in prison. He’s supposed to be a fully realized superhero, but here he is, trapped under rubble, and discussing putting an arrow in his half sister with his almost dead best friend. COME ON.

I know Oliver is not real and the writers refuse to drop this, but there is a reason for it. It’s always one step forward and two steps back with Oliver Queen. This is the biggest pine tree to ever live. Oliver continually circling back to killing feels extremely in character. He finds himself in situations where he believes killing is justified. When Oliver has exhausted all other possibilities he still believes killing can be a solution.

But what about Prometheus? 

Well, Oliver couldn’t kill him because that would be giving Prometheus exactly what he wants. Prometheus believed Oliver is a killer and it would prove him right if Oliver killed him. That’s not happening here with Emiko so TA DA! Totally different circumstances! It’s completely okay to kill her.

But what about Slade? 

Uhhh… Oliver made a promise to Tommy no more killing and he wanted to prove to himself he could be a hero without it. Mission accomplished! NO MORE KILLING!!!

Hahaha. Just kidding. Up next we have Ra’s Al Ghul. 

He had the League of Assassins, chucked Oliver off a mountain, tried to bio weapon Star City into oblivion and made him marry the only lesbian on the show. Ra’s had to die. Right? Right.

Damien Darhk killed Laurel and was a Terminator like magician, so Oliver was completely justified running him through with the pointy end of an arrow. On camera no less!

And round and round and round we go. I’m not arguing any of these people deserved to live. They didn’t. Oliver was always justified killing any bad guy and the world is a better place without these villains. However, it’s not really about the villain. It’s about Oliver Queen and his soul.

I won’t rehash all the reasons why I think Oliver should stop killing and it’s perfectly okay if you disagree with me. This is simply part of my morality. I don’t believe Oliver Queen gets to be judge, jury and executioner simply because he is the Green Arrow and has anointed himself savior of the city.

Oliver’s prison arc was in large part showing him the moral grey zones when it comes to villains. He was operating in a very black and white world when he determined which villains lived and died. Does Ben Turner deserve a death penalty for his crimes? Is he the same as Ricardo Diaz? Who gets to decide?

Ideally the justice system, which is why we have one. It is an imperfect system, but it’s one Oliver has tried to work within for most of the season and has succeeded at it until recently. The larger point is there is a third option for villains when choosing between life or death. JAIL.

And yet, here we are again with Oliver arguing the same moral quandary we’ve argued for the last seven years.  The reason we keep circling back to this issue is because Oliver Queen has no code. We can justify almost anything, which is why it’s important to have a moral code to check our justifications. We all need rules to live by, moral absolutes, which are unbreakable under any circumstances. This is the reason laws exist.

God gave Moses the Ten Commandments. Jesus gave us the Beatitudes and a whole new section of the friggin Bible to digest. If superheroes are fictional Christ like figures, then their hero’s journey needs to end with a set of rules he/she live by based off the lessons they’ve learned on the road to becoming a superhero.

If you want a less Christian perspective, then consider superheroes modern day mythology. Every mythological hero learned painful lessons which resulted in a morality the Greek and Romans lived by. Our democracy is fashioned from the Greeks. Suffering = lessons = moral code = righteous path.

Oliver needs a code he can apply to any given situation he’s faced with because being a superhero requires checks and balances. He needs something, a lens, to filter his morality through. His morality must set a high bar too because Oliver isn’t just your run of the mill everyday hero. He’s becoming someone else… something else. Oliver Queen is superhero. He supposed to be the best of us.

Oliver views Tommy as a brain concussed hallucination, but he couldn’t be more wrong. This is Oliver’s God moment. I’ve been waiting for Oliver to have a God moment since Barry Allen had his in Season 2 of The Flash. The Speed Force aka God took Barry on an out of body experience to explain that even though Barry has incredible gifts those gifts do not make him God. Barry doesn’t get to decide who lives or who dies. He doesn’t get to rewrite the past or change the future just because he’s experienced lost. Those decisions are outside the purview of The Flash. Barry has immense power, but those powers will not illuminate loss from his life.  

The Speed Force/Barry’s Mom: What you’ve become – it’s wonderful. A miracle even. But it won’t make bad things stop happening to you. Even The Flash can’t outrun the tragedies the universe is going to keep sending his way. 

At the end of the “The Runaway Dinosaur” Barry comes to terms with his mother’s death and accepts it. He achieves peace, healing and let’s go of some of the pain which has been a weight around his neck.  Until his father dies the next episode.

Barry chucks everything God told him out the window and creates Flashpoint to save both his parents.

This is the point where my relationship with Barry Allen began to crumble. HE LITERALLY HAD GOD TELL HIM LOSS WAS PART OF LIFE AND HE HAD TO ACCEPT IT. BARRY HAD TO ACCEPT HE WAS NOT GOD. And what does he do? He creates an entirely new timeline where Cisco’s brother is dead, Caitlin becomes Killer Frost, Sara Diggle is erased and replaced with John Junior. Oh, and I wasn’t allowed to be mad at him about it because he’s Barry.

I don’t know if Oliver Queen believes in God or a life beyond death. I’m leaning towards not given his reaction to Angel Tommy, but “some things are true whether you believe them or not.” City of Angels is an EPIC movie. Watch and thank me later.

Regardless of Oliver’s personal beliefs, he doesn’t have a Speed Force. There’s no higher power/magical whatsit sitting him down for a chat to explain how life works like Barry had in Season 2. Oliver has been flying blind for seven years. Until now.

Oliver: No Tommy! Because of what he did to you.

This is the first time I’ve ever heard Oliver blame Tommy for his death. Oliver is plagued by what ifs? What if Tommy listened to him? What if he got there a little bit sooner? But none of those things happened because Tommy was blinded by the fact that Malcolm Merlyn was his father. And he paid for that loyalty with his life. Oliver isn’t going to make the same mistake with Emiko.

Angel Tommy agrees with Oliver! He takes responsibility for his death, but not for the reasons Oliver stated. 

Tommy was stuck in a cycle of self hatred, one created by his father, and he couldn’t free himself from it until it was too late. Angel Tommy urges his friend to view him as a cautionary tale and break his own cycle of violence.

This isn’t the first time Arrow has referenced Oliver’s cycle of violence. We did a deep dive on it in “Level Two” during Oliver’s psychotherapy session. What that doctor was doing to prisoners was deeply wrong, but he did pull out a nugget of truth. 

Oliver created his vigilante persona to avenge his father’s wrongs. Those wrongs began with violence and death. Oliver has often avenged those wrongs through violence and death. There is a pattern here. There is a cycle even though Oliver has done so much good as the Green Arrow. 

Oliver doesn’t want William to experience the same pain and loss, so he must do things differently than Robert. If Oliver doesn’t want to saddle William with righting his wrongs, then he must break this cycle and be better. Oliver must walk a higher road if there’s any hope of his children being freed from the Queen family’s past.

Oliver: No. You’re wrong. This isn’t about me. This isn’t about my father. This is about Emiko. And the choices that she made? They are on her.

Like I said it’s always one step forward with Oliver and two steps back. He is soooooo close!!!! Everything he said about Emiko is true and showcases the stunning character growth Oliver has gone through these past seven seasons. He’s not blaming himself for Emiko’s actions. Hell, he’s not even blaming Robert. Oliver is holding Emiko responsible for her choices.

Typically, Oliver blames himself for everything. Lately, he’s been putting the blame squarely where is belongs and holding people responsible for their crimes.  He has freed himself from the crippling guilt which began on that raft with Robert Queen. YES. EMIKO IS TO BLAME. NOT OLIVER.

But thennnnn he takes it one step too far. Oliver believes Emiko deserves to die.

He may not be blaming himself anymore, but Oliver’s solution remains the same. He’s still stuck.

Tommy promises Oliver will eventually be free (BECAUSE HE’S AN ANGEL SENT BY GOD OKAY??!!!) but urges him to stay on the higher road because he has a shot at a clean slate. What’s wonderful about “Living Proof” is the writers give Oliver more justification to kill than any other time in the history of this show. Emiko is a threat to Oliver’s wife, son and unborn child. We won’t weep over this woman and no one will be angry if Oliver kills her because he’s protecting his family! If there was ever a justification to kill this is it. This decision is morally justified.

Oliver frees himself from the rubble, meets up with his team and comes face to face with Emiko.

This is all it takes. DADDY RAGE ACTIVATED.  

Source: olicitygifs 

Emiko tells Oliver she’s made certain his family will die and even though Diggle (the moral compass) warns him not to - Oliver kills Emiko. 

Source:  olivergifs

There’s an immediate cause and effect. Emiko is dead, but so is… JOHN?

 WHAT THE FRICKEN FRACK IS GOING ON? Oliver’s team is laid out Game of Thrones style. 

Source:  arrowdaily

Is the Night King here? 

I had no idea what the hell happened.

God happened. Oliver isn’t free. He’s still trapped. Angel Tommy gave him a vision of all his loved ones dying.

Oliver: What was that?

Tommy: How do I know? I’m just a figment of your imagination.

Note to self: When face to face with God don’t call Him a figment of my imagination. He gets cranky.

This is all a hallucination, right? If that’s the case, then how did Angel Tommy know about Emiko and the baby? 

Source: olicitygifs

She just threatened Felicity. Oliver doesn’t know that happened. Sure, it’s easy to assume Oliver just played out his worst nightmare, but he’s trying to morally justify killing. Why would he show himself a scenario where killing Emiko leads to losing everyone he loves? Why would he play out this horrible scenario when Oliver thinks he’s right to kill Emiko? Why torture himself over a person he’s ready to kill?

Source: olivergifs

In Oliver’s despair he calls out to God almost like an exhale. And God answers. Angel Tommy is much more than a hallucination. Losing loved ones isn’t new for Oliver, but God showed him this worst nightmare for a reason. Oliver is making decisions based on fear just like Robert Queen did. Angel Tommy briefly takes the title of Yoda from John (that’s ok he hasn’t had much use for it lately).

If Oliver wants a different outcome, then he’s going to have to do something different. Angel Tommy urges Oliver to embrace the best parts of him instead of giving into his worst impulses.

God gives Oliver Queen his code. What’s does a hero believe in? The Four Pillars of Heroism are Oliver Queen’s answer.

Does Emiko deserve Oliver’s loyalty, selflessness, courage and compassion?  No. She doesn’t not, but that’s not really the point. 

Forgiving someone when they don’t deserve it is quite possibly one of the most heroic things we can do as human beings. It’s a gift and, in many ways, it’s a gift we give ourselves too.

The beauty of these pillars is we all can embrace them. That’s what so wonderful about hero’s journeys. Heroes represent the best of humanity and are a shining beacon of the potential we could all reach. And yet, most of us don’t. Someone like Oliver Queen has a depth to his loyalty, selflessness, courage and compassion that is unparalleled. The reason why most of us don’t become heroes or saints (if you prefer a religious perspective) is because it’s too damn hard. We don’t want to make the sacrifices necessary to be one.

Oliver must offer the same forgiveness offered to him all those years ago through Diggle, Felicity, Tommy, Roy and Thea.  Oliver is one of God’s perfect examples of the power of redemption. If there’s anything he should believe in it should be that and what God wants, more than anything, is for Oliver to be a vessel. God is asking Oliver Queen to be a servant of redemption.

Source: smoakmonster

And it’s Tommy asking. So of course, Oliver will do it. That’s why God chose Tommy to deliver the code. Robert Queen’s death ignited Oliver’s mission, but Tommy’s death ignited his heroism. We must go back to the beginning when we reach the end.

Oliver is given the chance to say goodbye again in their final moments together and Tommy makes a him promise. Death is not an end to love.

This was Oliver’s God moment. This code was the final piece of the superhero puzzle. It’s a gift born from loss, pain, love, redemption and forgiveness. Oliver is the living proof for us all. He is a beacon of light for his family, team, city and yes even villaina like Emiko.

Felicity Smoak

I wish I liked Alena. It would have made her scenes with Felicity more fun, but I don’t so that’s that. Oliver is not the only one reexamining the way he’s doing things. Felicity is as well.

The SCPD tries to arrest her, which cements my belief they are the biggest twats to ever live and they will never be anything other than twats. But things take a dangerous and extremely emotional turn when Felicity and Alena come face to face with Emiko. Felicity must beg for the life of her child.

Source:  arrowdaily

STOP POINTING ARROWS AT MY PRECIOUS BABES YOU CRAZY BITCH! 

Emiko as a villain isn’t all that threatening, but Cookie Monster could be threatening Felicity right now and I’d get worked up about it. 

Source:  arrowdaily

The speech Felicity makes is gut wrenching. Hasn’t she been through enough? Just let her pregnant in peace.

This latest life or death situation causes Felicity to ponder what kind of life her child will have. Poor William has not fared so great thus far. Being a child of heroes is not an easy thing as we see in the flash forwards.

Is Arrow saying Oliver and Felicity can’t do it all? Are the writers saying Oliver and Felicity can’t be heroes and have a family? 

No, I don’t think so because Oliver and Felicity have been doing it all for the last two years. They got married, brought William into their home to raise 

and expanded their little brood all while actively fighting for the city as vigilantes. 

Oliver isn’t choosing between man and mask anymore. He’s embraced both personas and he’s been living in the light more than he ever has in previous seasons by working with the SCPD (twat factory that it is) and going hoodless.

Timing on Arrow is always a tricky thing. I didn’t expect to see Oliver live his happy life with Felicity for as long as we’ve been blessed to watch it. Most television shows end at wedding or baby, but not with this show. Oliver is a fully realized superhero. That evolution worked in conjunction with his relationship with Felicity and not as a “reward” for his superhero evolution. Oliver could never become a superhero without Felicity. He needs her. Felicity Smoak is Oliver’s superhero.

But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences to their choices. Sure, the show could tap out and maybe it would be all rainbows and puppies in the end, but probably not. Arrow isn’t that kind of show and there was always going to be pain right up until the final moments.

Personally, I like that the writers are examining the consequences of having a family and being heroes. We like to tell ourselves we can “do it all” but there are consequences to every decision we make. Once we go through a door another one closes behind us. 

Life is not about “having it all.” It’s about deciding the kind of life you want to live and accepting the ramifications of those decisions. There is no perfect plan. There are always negatives to every choice. We must determine not only if our choice makes us happy, but if we can live with the negatives.

What makes Oliver and Felicity happiest is fighting for their city, but they realize that puts their family in danger much more than if they’d chosen to be farmers or dermatologists. 

It’s a very real consequence that cost them William. He bailed. So, what about the nugget cooking in Ms. Smoak? Oliver and Felicity can proclaim their number one priority is keeping their children safe, but they are also actively engaging in behavior that puts their children at risk.

Felicity tells Alena about how she wants to be a better parent than her parents. I love Donna Smoak, so it made me a little sad to hear Felicity say this. I think Donna was a spectacular mom to Felicity, but I also understand they are opposites which probably drove Felicity crazy as she grew up. And of course, there’s always Noah Kuttler to set the parenting bar real low. Let us not reflect too heavily on Robert and Moira Queen either. Sure, they made the ultimate sacrifice to keep their children safe, but they were pretty much disaster zones of parents right up until their final moments on this earth.

Felicity always wanted to be a mother. There has been some debate on this topic over the years and “Living Proof” essentially ended it. Yes, she wanted children when she imagined what her life would be someday. Maybe she didn’t know how or with whom that dream would come to fruition, but motherhood is something Felicity wanted. This is great because… spoiler alert she’s pregnant!

It’s perfectly acceptable if Felicity didn’t want children, but I’m glad Arrow didn’t go down the “I changed my mind” trope we so often see on television. Like there’s something inherently wrong with not wanting children and thus the character’s mind must be changed. Nope. There isn’t anything wrong with it. It’s a perfectly valid lifestyle choice.

Of course, there are some who change their minds and that’s valid as well, but storytelling can fall into some uncomfortable tropes and the “change the woman’s mind about becoming a mother” is one I’ve watched too much. I’m also fed up with the “kill the lover/husband but the woman gets to have his baby” trope too in case you’re wondering.

Being a mother, however, was not something forced upon Felicity because Oliver wanted it or something she warmed to because of her relationship with William. It was a quiet dream she kept to herself. A dream William and Mia fulfilled.

Of course, Felicity is an amazing mother. The sky is also blue. This conversation with Alena is just one of the million ways the writers showcase Felicity’s A+ level mom skills. Yes, being a vigilante makes Felicity whole. It’s her calling, 

Source:  ebett 

BUT kidnappings and attacks by serial killers is a serious downside to this career choice. That’s just facts.

Source:  ebett

They say the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. If Felicity truly wants to keep her children safe, then perhaps she and Oliver need to change their nightly activities. At least for a little while. Our happiness doesn’t have to come all at once. The life we build can be put together in pieces, bit by bit, until we’ve found a way to incorporate all the things that make us happy while balancing the consequences (good and bad) of those decisions.

Oliver and Felicity love Star City, but they love their children more. Are they willing to walk away from everything they’ve built to keep their children safe? Is that even a question? Of course. They are parents.

Source:  ebett

William Clayton

The messiest part of this whole flash forward storyline is William. 

The writers wanted to keep Mia’s identity a secret which is difficult if everyone knows who she is. This gets dicey when it comes to her brother. Personally, I don’t think William and Mia being kept apart for 20 years was necessary. Sure, it was a great “OMG I KNEW IT” moment and it will be interesting to watch the two of them develop a relationship IF we get a spin off.

Source: arrowdaily

However, it doesn’t change the fact that this storyline is a dumpster fire. William continues to bitch about Oliver and Felicity abandoning him in the flash forwards. YOU WANTED TO LIVE WITH YOUR GRANDPARENTS WILLIAM. OLIVER AND FELICITY BEGGED YOU TO STAY BUT YOU LEFT FOR A NORMAL LIFE. Can we at least remember history correctly? Own your choices kid.

But we haven’t circled back to Oliver and the voicemails. Oliver just decides it’s perfectly normal his son isn’t returning ANY of his calls? He never goes to see William in Central City? REALLY?

And then of course there’s Felicity in the cabin for 20 years. I understand why she didn’t live in Star City and remained hidden. Maybe she thought William had a better set up living with the grandparents. He also apparently changed his name... sooo I guess he’s safer with them or something? 

Bottom line - Felicity is his mother. It’s difficult to process a situation where Felicity would not bring William home to her at some point.

This is where I understand William’s anger. Yes, Felicity believed she was keeping William safe, but the logic doesn’t really track. If Mia is safe living with Felicity, then so is William.  Keeping Felicity and Mia separated from William for 20 years just so the Olicity baby reveal is more shocking to the casual viewer and attempts to keep us fandom super sleuths on our toes for five minutes longer isn’t worth the collateral damage.

Dinah and Roy

Sweet mother of Moses where the hell do I even start? Dinah finds out the SCPD knows Roy murdered those two guards and she immediately starts bitching about her job.

Dinah: She lied about us being behind the Ninth Circle attacks, but she was telling the truth about us covering up those murders. We never should have done that.

Of course, Roy feels terrible his uncontrollable Lazarus Pit rage which resulted in the death of two innocent people and he will live with the guilt the rest of his life. But he ALSO cost Dinah her job and that is most important.

Dinah: He’s right. I’m sorry but the SCPD has already tried to arrest Felicity.  Its better one of us takes the fall than the rest of us spending our lives as fugitives.

It’s not surprising Dinah and Rene are willing to feed Roy to the sharks to save their own asses. 

We have alllll of Season 6 as evidence that this is exactly the kind of people they are, but unfortunately this DRIVES ROY TO SUICIDE. He volunteers to shut off some poisonous gas and the chances of his survival are next to zero.

And what do we get? Dinah crying. PICK A LANE BITCH. You don’t get to guilt Roy into sacrificing himself and then cry over his corpse. You had zero problems sending him up the river for a nice long stint at Slabside if it secured your 401K. But now she’s oh so sad because her new bestie is flinging himself into toxic waste fumes? I CANNOT WITH THIS WOMAN.

Roy survives because he’s the Parkour Prince and Dinah offers some mea culpa about how the world is a better place with a hero like Roy in it. NO SHIT! WE’VE BEEN THERE FOR THE LAST SEVEN YEARS DINAH. Hey everybody! Roy gets to stick around because Dinah said it was okay! 

I have whiplash.

Dinah: I was wrong. We all make mistakes.

Yeah, but you continually make the same mistake Dinah. It’s called disloyalty. What the team should have done is doctor the video, so it looked like Dinah killed the guards and handed it to Bingsley with a big red bow.

Stray Thoughts

Oliver had a building on top of him. Roy had cardboard. It's not always fun being the lead.

I really needed the show to be Tommy backseat hero-ing Oliver for the last six years.

Doesn’t Angel Tommy sound a lot like Felicity? It’s an absolute tragedy Tommy and Felicity never had any scenes together. I will forever blame L&urel for the joy she stole from me.

"I don't know how you ever breathe on this job."

"I don't." I love Felicity Smoak.

It makes me sad seeing Felicity’s genius corrupted like this.

ALENA WAS THE MAD SCIENTIST THUS CONFIRMING MY SUSPICIONS THAT SHE IS THE WORST.

Mia defending Felicity is a big mood.

I love you Roy. You are Olicity's first born son, but this is a lot your fault. So, I accept the guilty face. Next time tell Oliver you have homicidal blood lust tenancies before going out into the field. Okay cookie? Uh huh. Thanks.

Don't think about how we missed out on Tommy Merlyn for the last six years and put up with L*urel L*nce nonsense season after season instead. It'll never be okay.

It was weird Olicity didn’t hugh when they reunited. Made the scene awkward. I loved how Oliver almost slipped up and said “baby” though. Source:  olicitygifs

Completely unacceptable we only had one Olicity scene for Emily’s second to last episode.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x21 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

[frombeginingtoend]

Program and Control - Stefan Butler

Summary: Graphic artist (y/n)(l/n) has worked on numerous games with Colin Ritman. When Stefan comes in to present Bandersnatch, (y/n) helps him complete the less story oriented parts of his game.

Notes/Warnings: slow burn-ish, language

Word Count: 3k

---

July 9th, 1984

Your alarm screeched, jolting you from a peaceful slumber. A heavy groan left your chest as you realized you needed to work. You were exhausted, and you wanted an extra ten minutes that you could rarely indulge in.

Sleep In | Get Up

You clicked the snooze button, eyes slipping closed and allowing those prized extra minutes. However, all good things must come to an end. In this case, a very loud end.

You took a deep breath as you sat up, massaging the back of your neck. You were not ready to go into work. Mainly you just didn't want to deal with Mohan, but what must be done, must be done.

Still bleary-eyed, you searched through the closet for something that matched.

A dissatisfied sneer crossed your face when you looked at your reflection. "Yeah, that's about as good as it's gonna get." A small smiled pulled at the edges of your chapped lips as you adjusted your dad's old bomber jacket. You looked back at the clock to realize half an hour had already passed. "Shit!" If you didn't hurry you'd miss the bus.

You slammed into the walls on your way out, hopping into your shoes as you left the house. Luckily they didn't have laces, and you could run without much difficulty. You got to the bus stop without breaking anything or twisting your ankle, which was surprising based on your clumsy history with those very shoes.

Entering TuckerSoft drained every stray remnant of adrenaline in your blood.

"Hey, Colleen," you called, waving at the receptionist. She said hi back, an undertone of distaste in her voice. You have no clue why she didn't like you, but she seemed to have decided that by the first time you met.

You flopped into your chair as quickly as you could, not wanting to be on your feet anymore.

"You're late," Colin commented, keeping his eyes on his screen, probably scrutinizing his code, trying to weed out a flaw. "And who, exactly, are you trying to impress with that number?" He peered around his computer, looking at you over the rims of his glasses.

You looked at the button down and tight slacks you picked out this morning. "Am I not allowed to dress nicely for myself?"

"I'll never understand you," Colin murmured under his breath as he turned back to his code, to which you rolled your eyes and smirked.

While getting your supplies from your desk to continue the mock-ups for the game Colin was working on, you heard your names being mentioned. Across the room was Mohan and a young looking man who fidgeted when he looked over at you.

You smiled and waved before turning back to your work.

"Looks like you've got a fan," you casually mentioned to Colin. You put on your headphones and played a cassette, drowning out the noises of everyone around you.

A tap on your shoulder made you jerk, scratching a line of graphite across your current project. You slid the headphones off with a heavy sigh. "What is it, Ritman?"

"You coming with?"

"No, I'm- I need to get this done." You gestured to the concepts for his newest game. "Fill me in if he gets the job. I'll probably be forced to work on his game."

"Will do." Colin pat you on the back before following the other two into the conference room.

You watched as the group of three walked into the conference room. The kid paused for a moment, looking in your direction. You waved once more, shot him a double thumbs up, and mouthed good luck.

His chest rose with a heavy breath before he nodded and continued through the doors.

Maybe twenty minutes passed before the three men exited the conference room.

"(Y/n)," Mohan called, "I'm sure you'll be glad to know we're picking up Stefan's game! You'll head the art department on it."

"Head it?"

"Well, if we get any other artists on it, yeah, but you're in charge. Just follow Stefan's lead."

You were left nodding like a broken animatronic from It's A Small World, knowing that you shouldn't have expected anything more from Mohan Thakur.

The next few months felt like a blur. You felt as if everything was going more and more downhill as the project progressed. You worried not only for yourself, but for Stefan as well, whom you ended up building a bond with.

He started inviting you over after work, but it tended to revolve around the game rather than personal matters. You wouldn't be opposed to admitting you had a crush on him. He had divulged his thoughts to you on many occasions. You even helped him remember to take his medication. After spending months together, it felt natural to connect like that.

But that was just one part of it.

All the heads working on Bandersnatch made the game feel like more of a clusterfuck than a branching story. You ended up making thirty different final images for it. All of them were shot down by the team until the last one, which you hated.

When the review came out, you waited anxiously with Stefan for at least some good response. However, that's not what happened. The coconut-headed son of a bitch gave the game two and a half stars.

You squeezed Stefan's hand, hoping to keep him calm.

"I need to try again."

"Stefan, what do you-"

"I need to try again."

He stormed off to his bedroom, leaving you in the living room with his dad.

July 9th, 1984

Your alarm screeched, and a pit grew in your stomach. Something felt off today. You'd had this feeling before, and for some reason the whole day felt like it had already passed.

Sleep In | Get Up

You were exhausted, and you wanted an extra ten minutes that you could rarely indulge in, but a pit in your stomach urged you to get up.

You took a deep breath as you sat up, massaging the back of your neck. You were not ready to go into work. Mainly, you just didn't want to deal with Mohan, but what must be done, must be done.

Still bleary-eyed, you searched the closet for something that matched.

Giving the outfit a once over in the mirror, you yawned. "That's 'bout as good as it's gonna get." You pulled at the edges of the bomber jacket, reminded of your late father. A reminiscent smile pulled at the corners of your lips.

You didn't need to rush this morning, so you decided to walk to work. Normally you waited for the bus, which got you there only two minutes before you were supposed to be, but you could likely walk there and be earlier. As a matter of fact, you were even able to stop and get coffee.

You entered the building without much of a care. You enjoyed your job, but work is work. Really, you didn't want to deal with Mohan's demands. Every once in a while it seemed he forgot that you were an artist and not an assistant.

You got into the elevator, deciding the normal route up the stairs would be too long for you to handle the hot cups in your hands. As the doors close you hear someone shout, "Wait, hold the door!"

Hold the Elevator | Let the Doors Close

Your foot shot out without you having to think about it. The sensor stopped the doors half way through their journey and pushed them back.

"Thank you," the young man said, shifting his backpack and staring at the ground. You smiled when you realized who this might be.

"Are you Stefan? Stefan Butler?"

His head shot up, mop of curly hair bouncing. "Uh, yeah. How do- how do you know me?"

"Right, sorry. I'm (y/n). I work at TuckerSoft. I design concept and promotional art. Mister Thakur told me you'd be in to demo." You rose both your coffee laden hands. "I'd shake your hand, but..." you nodded to the coffee, and he smiled, a little blush creeping to his cheeks.

"You did the art for Metl Hedd, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Your chest swelled with pride at his acknowledgment. No one seemed to care about your role in the games the great Colin Ritman created.

"Hey hey! You must be, uhh, Steven." Mohan called when the elevator doors opened.

"Stefan," you corrected, passing both men to get to your desk.

"It's alright, really. I get it all the time," you heard Stefan assure.

"Colin," you sat on his desk, "I have a gift." He looked away from his monitor, raising his eyebrows. He didn't say anything, just left it open for you to speak. "Coffee: black, three sugars."

"Wonderful, thank you, (y/n)." He turned back to his game, coffee already pressed to his lips. "You look nice today," he commented offhandedly.

"Since when do you care about what I look like?" you questioned with a chuckle.

"Since I realized you care."

You were taken by surprise. You never took Colin for the type of guy to care very deeply for people, but then again, he had Kitty and Pearl. He kept them out of the limelight, safe, treasured them, and made sure they both knew how much he cared about them. You supposed, maybe, he could care about his desk partner and friend like a sibling.

"Colin! I'd like you to meet Stefan..." Mohan looked at the aforementioned boy for his last name, which was murmured for him to repeat. "Butler."

Colin offered the two to look at what he was working on: Nohzdyve, but seconds into the demonstration, it crashed.

"What was that?" Mohan asked.

"Eyeball sprites overshot the video memory," Stefan quickly answered.

"How did you know that?" Colin gave Stefan, who merely shrugged, a suspicious glance.

"Anyway, you have a game for us. Let's go." Mohan lead the men to the conference room. Colin stopped before closing the door, gesturing for you to come with. You gestured to the graphite drawings, but Colin gave you a disapproving look. You hustled to get there, recieving a pat on the shoulder when you passed Colin.

Stefan gave a short demo, very compelling and interesting. A choose your own adventure with given choices that interwove to create one massive story. Just like the original book.

"Don't worship him," you bartered. "He's the thief of destiny."

"You've read Jerome F. Davies?"

"Of course, he was a genius." You shared a smile.

"Didn't he go bonkers and cut his wife's head off?" Mohan asked.

"People do tend to focus on that, yes," Colin replied. However, Mohan didn't seem to care as he snatched the controller out of Stefan's hands and selected an option. The screen went blank.

"What's with that?"

"Well, I haven't programmed that path yet."

"So there's gonna be multiple paths?" Mohan asked.

"It's... going to be like the book." Stefan almost seemed confused as to how oblivious Thakur appeared.

"Amazing. When can you start?"

"You... you mean you're interested?"

"Yeah! Write it here! We can put together a small team just for you, and if course Colin will be here. What do you say?"

Stefan was silent, a huge smile across his face as he took in the offer. "No," he said cheerily. "I mean yes. I mean..." he took a deep breath, "I just think that I need to work on it alone, y'know. It's just, I've got it all in my head, and I feel like, if I have more people working on it, it'll get all... stressy."

Mohan looked irritated, but understanding. He'd worked with Colin long enough to understand a creative genius doesn't bode well in groups. He accepted the offer with the exception that it be finished by November eighteenth.

Before you were able to leave the conference room, Mister Thakur stopped you.

"I want you working on the artwork for Bandersnatch. Are you up for the job?"

You really didn't want to take on the additional game, but you knew it would mean a raise, and you did feel some strange form of obligation to Stefan. Still, the work load of two games- working with two separate minds- was going to be a heavy burden. You wanted to decline the offer but

Accept | Decline

You couldn't. "Of course, Mister Thakur."

November, 1984

You stared at the pages of drawings. Tears stung your eyes, throat tight, and screams being swallowed by your stubbornness. Your jaw ached from grinding it together so much, and your hands cramped from their hours of exercise. The next stroke on the paper broke the graphite tip of a freshly sharpened pencil.

You threw it down onto the desk, head falling into your hands. Tears finally slipped between your tightly clenched eyelids. Hair tugged against your scalp, pulled by your fists. No feelings other than anger pulsed through your veins.

Yell | Break Something

A guttural growl left your throat as you bolted to your feet. The backs of your knees collided with the chair, sending it tumbling to the ground with a loud clatter. Chest heaving,

It didn't take long for you to gather your things and head to Stefan's. He told you his address in case you ever needed to stop by for consultation with the artwork.

You would admit that showing up at his door in the middle of the night made you feel a bit awkward. You'd been here a few times before, for the original consultation for the cover work and other times to give him company. He showed you some of the sketches he made himself as well as the sprites and art from Davies himself.

Each time you came over, sitting in his living room, at the kitchen table, or on his bed, you found yourself growing more and more attached. Standing in front of the red door now was making you nervous. You had never showed up uninvited before.

You knocked, hoping he wasn't in the bathroom or so into what he was doing that he couldn't hear you.

When the door swung open, it wasn't Stefan.

"I'm sorry. Is Stetan Butler here?"

"Yeah, I'm his dad. Do you need me to get him for you?" Stefan's father asked, gesturing an extended thumb behind him.

"Actually, would I be able to come in? I have a few questions about his game that could help me finish the art."

"So, you're the artist he's always going on about! Come in, come in. Stefan's room is upstairs. I'll show you."

"Oh! Actually, I-I know where it is, but thank you."

You made your way up the stairs, quiet and very conscious of Stefan's father watching you with incredulous eyes.

His door opened with a soft creak, alerting him but not giving him a reason to turn around.

"I don't need any tea, dad."

"Good, I didn't bring any." You took a seat at the end of his bed.

Stefan could have broken his neck with the speed his head spun to face you. "(Y/n)! What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood. Figured I'd stop in to check on you, and," you gestured to the scattered papers and his disheveled state, "it looks like you've been at it for a while, Stefan. Maybe you should take a break."

"No, I-I need to finish this last bit. I have to finish this route."

"That route's gonna turn into three, then five, then eight. You need a break. Just for tonight. Get some sleep. I'll stay here, make you breakfast in the morning." You stood from his bed, your arms wrapped around yourself. Stefan's gaze fell to the keyboard as he took deep breaths. Was he trying to calm himself down?

"Why are you doing this?" His eyes, like his hands, clenched shut. "Why won't you just leave me alone and let me work?"

Reason | Let Him Work

"Because I'm worried, Stefan. We may have only met a few months ago, but I care about you. I'm scared that if I don't force you to stop, you're going to run yourself into the ground."

"I have to! If I don't spend all my time on this it will never get done, and then we wont be able to release it. I'll have wasted all of this time with noth-"

"Stefan, look at me." He kept rambling. "Stefan." You turned his chair toward you, one hand above his shoulder, the other on the arm of the chair. Your faces were now mere inches apart. That jittery feeling in your chest came back as you met his green gaze. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves.

Your view drifted from his large pupils to his pink lips, warm breath ghosting his skin. After a slight hitch in your breath, you leaned in to capture his lips with your own.

His hands hovered over your hips before settling and roaming your back. Subconsciously, your own hands migrated to his jaw, and your legs situated on either side of his. You tugged on the dark curls at the base of Stefan's skull, eliciting a groan. His lips followed yours as you pulled away, greedy and yearning for your touch.

"What are we doing?" you whispered.

"I don't know, but it feels right. This is the only choice I've made in the last six months that feels so right." He stroked a thumb across your cheek. His mind was entirely enamored by you. You: gentle and caring, intoxicating, unique, his lapse from the confused, garbled darkness of his head. Of all the things to get lost in, you were by far the best.

"Why don't you take a break."

Stefan nodded and muttered, "yeah, okay." He let you pull him from the desk chair. He smiled when you pulled back the sheets of his bed, clearly meant for one person, and positioned yourself to cuddle with him. He pressed his back snug against your chest, letting you wrap an arm around his waist. His eyes slid closed just as you pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. He drifted to sleep with a smile on his lips.

[a-heart-inscribed]

Operation Eros - Part 3

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 1847

The blush looks good on Steve, covering his cheeks and tinting his ears.

He clears his throat. “Captain Handsome, reporting home.”

The door clicks open and Steve holds the door open for you. “Welcome home Captain and guest.”

You break into a huge smile and fight the giggles as you move into the entry way. “Captain Handsome?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s Tony’s system. He chose the code names and I can’t for the life of me figure out how to change it.”

You laugh as he moves in and starts leading you into the tower. “Well I like it. Very Tony, though.”

“He alternates between that and Capsicle.” Steve chuckles with you for a moment. “FRIDAY, team location report please.”

“Of course, Captain. One moment.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You can find out where everyone is at any time?”

“No, not always. We can tell FRIDAY we want to be ‘offline’ and she hides our location unless emergency protocol is activated. And for the most part we try to respect each other’s privacy.”

“The Captain has a guest! And so late at night. Cap, I’m please to find you are finally bringing home a friend…” When Tony rounds the corner, his face shows confusion but amusement as your eyes meet.

“Privacy, huh?” You say to Steve in an attempt to hide the burning in your cheeks.

“Y/n. What a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were the guest FRIDAY was reporting to me.” Tony pops out his hip and leans against the rail of the landing he was standing on. The look on his face has turned smug and you wonder if he is up to something.

“You have your teams guests reported to you Tony?” You laugh.

Tony smiles wider but doesn’t make the joke you see shining in his eyes. “I have everyone who comes and goes from the tower reported to me for at least 24 hours after a big mission.”

As you watch his face you get a good sense of his reasoning. He does well hiding it behind that smirk but you see in his eyes that he wants to keep his team safe. This solution probably gives them some amount of freedom as well as satisfying Tony’s protective tendencies. “Well,” you start, smiling and holding the bag in your hand up, “We come bearing sustenance.”

Tony’s eyes finally find the bags and coffee in your hands. “Woman, you are a God send.”

Steve laughs and motions for you to follow him up the stairs. “Team to the kitchen Tony?”

Closer to Tony you can tell he had just recently showered and can read the same exhaustion in his muscles that you see in Steve. He has a dark bruise peeking out from under the collar of his t-shirt and you wonder how hard he had to be hit to get that while in the Iron Man suit. “Roger that Captain. FRIDAY, send an all page to the team, report to the kitchen please and thank you.”

One by one you are joined by the Avengers, each incredibly grateful to be met with warm food and drinks. From what you gather, food around the compound is fend for yourself and after missions everyone tends to be too tired to care about how hungry they are. You try to cut out and let them be, but they insist you stay and eat with them.

Some hours later, you’re seated between Steve and Loki when you try to stifle a yawn. It’s 3am after all and you have no idea how they are all awake.

“I believe the lady is tiered.” The God of Mischief’s eyes are playful but kind as he pushes your shoulder with his.

“No, no. It’s nothing.” You stifle another yawn and he grins at you.

You catch Steve looking at the clock and furrowing his brow. “Do you open tomorrow?” It takes you a moment before you concede under his gaze and nod. Steve sighs out your name. “By the time you got home you would need to turn around and come back. You should have left hours ago…”

“It’s fine really. I’ll just stay up. When you all are done, I’ll just go hang out in the shop until opening.” You knew you’d be kicking yourself in a few hours, but you had let time get away from you.

“Unacceptable.” Tony shrugged as he sat the last part of his sandwich down and waved his hand in the air. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Please prep a guest room.”

Before you know it, you have a guest room in the tower, a barrowed set of pajamas from Natasha that don’t fit quite right, and a promise from Pepper to have your work uniform cleaned and ready in a few hours. You can’t be sure, but you have a suspicion that Tony made sure the room he had prepared wasn’t far from Steve’s because he offered to show you the way up as it was on his way to his room. As you lay down to sleep, in the Avengers Tower of all places, you wonder at how surreal things have become.

This staying over becomes more common place for you as the months go by and soon you have left a few things in the tower for the nights you need to just stay and your normal guestroom is pretty much just reserved for you.

It was one of those nights, one the team was coming home late, when Steve found you crying quietly in the back of the shop. He’d let himself in quietly but when you hadn’t greeted him, he had started to worry. “Wow, sweetheart. Hey, what’s wrong?”

His movements as he approached were slow and measured, not his normal rush to your side. Hands finding your shoulders he gently turned you to him. One hand ran up and down your arm and the other went to brush a tear from your face.

God you didn’t want him to see you like this, but you were tiered, and it was late and you could only hold stuff in for so long. You manage to clear your throat a little. “It’s nothing, Steve. Have you guys eaten?”

“No, no. You don’t get to brush this off. Not when you’re like this. What happened?”

You sigh and shift from foot to foot. “I- my boyfriend… I left him.”

“Oh.” You know you aren’t imagining the way Steve’s body tenses and how he pulls back just a bit. “Boyfriend. I- I’m sorry about the breakup. He’s a fool for hurting you.”

Shaking your head, you move back closer to him. “It’s complicated but not like that. I- I’m mad at myself.” You bring a hand up to scrub away some of the tears before going on. “Colin was my boyfriend a few years ago. We had dated for a while, but it just wasn’t working out. He had trust issues, I had my own stuff going on… we broke up like two years ago and he left the city. But he moved back last month and reached out. I figured it couldn’t hurt. You know, for old times’ sake, to give it another try…”

You couldn’t tell Steve you had only decided to give Colin another chance because you wanted the distraction from the feelings you felt rising for… someone unattainable.

“Sweetheart you don’t have to explain…”

Maybe you don’t have to, but you started and now you just want to get it out. “It was stupid, Steve. I don’t have feelings for him at all anymore. I knew I didn’t going in. So, we just… fought. All the time. He still has trust issues, said I was in love with someone else,” You tried to breeze past that because you weren’t sure that it was wrong, “he hated when I’d come home late even though it wasn’t like he was waiting around for me. He made that perfectly clear by sleeping with a different ex of his yesterday…”

“Oh, y/n.” Steve’s body softens again as he pulls you flush to his chest.

A hiccup escapes you, but you are done with the tears, you are done crying over that jerk. You nuzzle your face into the fabric of Steve’s stealth suit breathing in the unique sent of him mixed with the smell of a mission and you feel at home. Damn it, Colin was probably right about your feelings for Steve.

After a few minutes, during which you had wrapped your arms around Steve’s waist without realizing, you sigh into his chest and mutter. “Www shhhhd et uh teem um ood.”

Steve chuckles, “Excuse me?”

Sighing again you pull your head back. “We should get the team some food.”

He brushes back some hair from your face. “Doll, no need to worry about them, they can take care of themselves. You don’t have to face them right now.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that Steve hasn’t loosened his arms from around you “I want to be with my friends right now, Steve… I-”

You don’t get to finish you sentence as the bell on the door chimes. “Hey, Steve, I- oh.” As Bucky moved into the shop Steve pulled slightly away from you and Bucky’s face lit up in a grin. “Am I… interrupting something?” In his eyes you see that look that Tony had in his not so long and you can’t help but wonder what they are up to.

Smiling back, you shake your head and remove yourself from Steve’s arms, regretfully. “No, punk.” You pat his arm as you move by him. “Did you come to help carry the food?”

He chuckles, eyes glued to Steve for a bit as if trying to silently communicate with him. “No, actually. I came to tell Steve that we got the lead we were missing. We have some intelligence to go over and a mission to plan. The sooner the better.”

Steve sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Alright, let’s get Tony and Nat in on this too, and maybe Bruce. Let’s meet in the conference room in 10.”

“Oh no you don’t. Not without food and coffee. I know all of you. You probably haven’t eaten in two days, to focused on getting stuff done and saving the world.” You start to pull stuff out of a cupboard. “Both of you, over here. Bucky can you cut those into slices, and Steve can you get the bread and boxes out?”

And just like that you feel better. You feel at home with the team.

Ever the gentleman, Steve keeps your breakup a secret but is diligent in checking up on you. Even on the mission they had quickly got underway, he had made sure once a day to message you. When he can he comes by the shop on your breaks, when he can’t get away, he has you come over to the tower when you get off. Soon you realize that Captain America, Golden Boy of the USA, has become your best friend.

Tag List:

@georgialeighc13

[theoutsidies]

The Cutie and the Coder- Bandersnatch

Paring: Fem! Reader x Stefan Butler

Warning: Thakur being a dumb bitch, and harassment(?)

A/N: BIG THANKS TO @lunalife101 cuz she helped me with this and she’s just a precious bean!! Enjoy my garbage writing!

It was like any ordinary day in the Tuckersoft office. Get all the employees their coffee and goods, file paperwork, and just chill with Colin. My low-cut shirt was far more revealing than what I was used to, so I pulled it up. As soon as I did that,I felt Thakur’s cold eyes staring at me as he mouthed the words, ‘dress-code’.

When I first found out about the Tuckersoft office needing an assistant I applied for the job immediately. I mean, how hard could getting coffee and filing papers be.

I met with Thakur for an interview, feeling confident I would get the job. It started off normal, him asking questions about my past jobs and such.

“Now, Y/N, let’s just skip the b.s. I can have you working here, pronto.”

I nodded my head eagerly, “That’s great, so when-”

“But on one condition.”

I gave a confused look, but kept nodding my head for him to finish. My confidence slowly eroding away with every word he spoke.

“You have to follow a strict dress-code.”  He emphasized strict.

And that’s where it all started. Short dresses and mini-skirts, and low-cut shirts and v-necks were the only things I wore to work.

Humiliated, that’s what I felt, but when you make almost 50 bucks an hour, plus some tips on the side, it’s kinda worth it.

He came into the office carrying a box packed with knick knacks, notebooks, and such. He struggled to hold the box, almost tripping on the way in.  He threw the box down on a desk, next to Colin’s. They chit-chatted for a while before Thakur came up to the mystery boy and gave him a hard pat on his back before exclaiming, “There’s our new employee! Our superstar! The future creator of one of the best Tuckersoft games!”. It finally clicked. He had been the ‘kid’ everyone had been talking about. He was proclaimed to have, and I quote, “The best idea for a game, since ‘Metl Hedd’.

He looked about my age, and  had a boyish charm to him. I could tell he was quiet, he only spoke when someone asked a question or when someone spoke directly to him. I was excited, excited to work with a cute guy. Then,it occured to me that Thakur would probably pull one of his little perverted tricks on me. The routine was that he would bring the employee into his office, talk to them, invite me in, and then make me pick up something that he ‘dropped’. He did it to all of his employees, except Colin. Colin ran out of the room when he heard the notorious line, “Y/N, love, could you pick that up for me?”.

The meeting in Thakur’s office started the same. I was invited in, he did his signature move, knocking a stapler off his desk, and then did his line, that line that made me crumble where I stood, that made me wince. Thakur tried to make his voice low, but I could still hear him whisper to the boy that this was the best part of his job. I stared at the stapler for a moment, and then back to Thakur. I made eye-contact with the boy, his emerald eyes filled with confusion.  I hestanintly bent down, exposing my panties and my arse. I felt utterly foolish. The boy was flustered, mouth agape with a pink hue on his cheeks. I muttered a ‘goodbye’ and scurried out of the room, cursing at Thakur under my breath, and hoping I would never see the mystery boy again.

I struggled to open the doors to the office. My arms were occupied by stacks and stacks of coffee cup holders. Strangers passed by sneering at my struggles until the door was held opened by someone, and who was that? The one and only cute mystery boy. He held the door open while sheepishly looking at the ground.

“Thank you,um…” I waited for his name, but he didn’t get the hint, “What’s your name?”

“Oh! It’s B-Butler.” His eyes widened, “I-I mean Stefan-Stefan. Butler is my firs-last name.”

He was a flustered mess with his bright pink cheeks, and sweaty palms that he rubbed on his jeans.

“Well, I’m Y/N.” I nodded my head in thanks again as I walked through the open door. I walked a ahead of him before he soon caught up and grabbed a couple of the holders I was carrying. Our hands grazed each other, and a pinkish hue crept on my face.

“S-sorry! I-I just a pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to hold all these coffees by herself, ya know?”  He cringed at his own words, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinted.

I beamed with delight, “You’re pretty cute too, Stefan.”

He was undeniably cute. His dark brown curls bouncing in every step, and his little cheesy smile made him even more irresistible.

He kept his head down low as he murmured a simple,’thanks.’

We walked in a comfortable silence for a few seconds before he spoke again.

“S-sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” I gave him a confused look before he kept talking, “When-when you were-you know- bent over.”

“You didn’t do anything. It’s just stupid Thakur.” I blew a piece of hair out of my face, “He’s a nasty perv with lots of money, sadly.”

An ‘oh’ sound came out of his mouth before he started again, “Why don’t you quit?”

“I make big bucks.” I shrugged.

I was busy sorting papers when Colin rolled his chair over to my desk.

  “Looks like the new guy took my advice?” He snickered.

“Your advice to quit while he can?” I joked as I looked at Colin, expecting him to be smirking, but he just kept his eyes fixed on Thakur’s office. The glass windows in his office were so perfectly clear that you could see the two figures having a heated argument, Stefan and Thakur. I looked around the room, almost everyone had stopped their work to see the dispute unfold.Then, Thakur made eye-contact with me, his glare sending shivers down my spine. He demanded I enter the room.

“Your little boyfriend here wants to pull his game from the shelfs!” He ran his fingers through his loose ponytail.

I was shocked. Stefan had told me how much he dreamed of working in Tuckersoft alongside Colin Ritman. Now, he was all going to throw that away.

“I already told you what my compromise is!” Stefan taunted nodding his head in my direction.

“But you’ll never get to put your game on shelfs. Never get to work at Tuckersoft. Never get to have this once-in-a-lifetime job.” Thakur pointed to me, treating me as if I didn’t have a say in the argument, “Never get all of that just because some lass wears her shirt too low.”

Then it hit me. Stefan wanted to sacrifice his dream for me. A girl who he had just met a few hours ago.

“Well, you won’t have a company to sell from if you keep harassing her.” The once stuttering , flustered mess of a boy was now a demanding, straight-forward man.

Thakur rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just leave? We don’t even need your dumb adventure game inspired by some lunatic. Y/N, you leave too. We needed to make some budget cuts, and an assistant isn’t really needed so, shoo.”

We were about to leave when Colin rushed in the room, “If you fire them, I’ll quit. Now, no one’s gonna make your games. No coders equals no games. No games equals no products being sold. No products being sold means your company is going to die.”

He smirked knowing this was the thing that was sure to seal the deal. I mean, it was The Colin Ritman, we were talking about. He made the company millions of pounds a year. Colin was the real M.V.P.

Thakur put his head in his hands, taking deep breaths and sighing before looking back at us, “Deal.”

I was about to push the doors open to leave the building when Stefan ran past me and opened them.

“Thank you, Stefan.” I smiled.

I walked through, waiting for him to walk me home. He watched me stand there, head tilted, “Y/N, whatcha waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for you to get the clue that I want you to walk me home.” I suggested, hoping he would take the hint.

He blushed and cringed at himself for being so foolish.

We walked and talked for a while, until we reached my house, relating over topics about high school, our parents, and such.

“I really appreciate what you did for me, Stefan.” I admitted, “I don’t think anyone, especially someone I just met, would do that for me.”  

He gave me a warm smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

Stefan’s cheeks grew a pinkish tint as I leaned in to kiss them. They were soft, and brought warmth to my lips.

I began walking to the front door, “Cya, tomorrow?” I cheered unlocking the door.

He waved ‘goodbye’ shyly before spinning on his heels to go walk home, but before he was totally out of view I could see him fist pump the air while a ‘woo-hoo’ fell out of his mouth.

I smiled giddily, murmuring how cute he was, and how happy I was to have met him, the mystery boy who had the biggest crush on me. Me, the average girl who had a corrupt job as an assistant, but ever since he came around everything was good.

[knjfed]

NOT IN CONTROL ↝ stefan butler x reader

prompt ▹ The reader is in somewhat of same situation as stefan, having the feeling as if she is being controlled.

warnings ▹ not much, female!reader, cussing, implied drug use, lowercase intended, and some violence. (if not in this chapter, it will be in the next ones.)

this is part 1 | part 2

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your alarm went off at 6:00 am, you gasped trying to catch your breath from the dream you just had. This happened often for the past month or so, you could never remember the dream fully. it was almost always something normal happening to you.. the only thing that stood out of place was that peoples faces were always blurred out and their voices slightly muffled so you could never pinpoint who it was in your dream.

wake up | sleep in.

you went to reach for the ‘snooze’ button but something stopped you from doing so. slowly you sit up and rub your face to wake up.

you wanted to sit there on your bed and try to think over your dream so you weren’t left in the dark yet again, but you felt like something was pushing you along to get moving and start your day. it seemed like you could never have time to yourself anymore. it was absolutely bonkers. was it too much to ask of yourself to just sit and be alone with your thoughts for a few fucking moments?

the annoying thought in the back of your head got the best of you when you got up, your feet hitting the cold floor as you made your way to the kitchen.

i could eat, i think i have enough milk for cereal today.

eat cereal | grab an apple

you went to reach for the milk in your fridge but you suddenly stopped, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you tried to push yourself to grab the milk. no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t reach it. you let out a frustrated breath and slammed the fridge shut, grabbing an apple as you passed by the table on your way to the bathroom.

what the FUCK is going on? can i not even enjoy some cereal?

your mind raced as you bit into the green apple, your face scrunched up at the taste. why did you even have that in your house? the flavor is horrid.

oh yeah, you felt like you needed to get it a day or two ago at the store. lovely.

you swallowed the chewed up piece and tossed the rest of the apple in the little trash can near the sink. without any hesitation you started to brush your teeth, then your hair.

you glanced down at your watch and saw that it read 6:30 am. already? you needed to get moving or else you’d be late again. walking to your closet you had two options, a simple long sleeved shirt with jeans or a short sleeved shirt, jeans, and a baggy orange jacket.

the jacket, i haven’t worn it in a while.

long sleeved | baggy jacket

you grabbed the jacket without any trouble, thank god.

after getting dressed the rest of the morning went smoothly, you put on a little bit of makeup before leaving the house and began your walk to work. it wasn’t far so it didn’t bother you, plus traffic is a pain.

you managed to walk in right at seven, five minutes early.

elevator | stairs

biting your bottom lip out of habit you walked into the elevator and pressed the floor number where you worked. you hands stuffed themselves into your jacket pockets as you looked down at the ground, your stomach growling in hunger from only having a bite of an apple this morning.

“h-hold the elevator!” a voice called out as the doors began to shut, quickly your foot shot out in the middle of the two doors, making them stop before they even came close to closing. the boy who seemed to be your age, perhaps two years older stepped in next to you and smiled shyly. he went to press a button but stopped, he must be going to the same floor as you.

odd.. usually choices like that take a little bit to happen.. that one seemed right away, normal even.

you got snapped out of your thoughts when the boy started to speak again, when you looked at him to pay attention you could feel your cheeks heat up a bit.

he’s cute.

“uh, thanks.. f-for holding the elevator i m-mean!” he stuttered, clearly nervous for many reasons. you couldn’t seem to tell why though. all you did was smile and nod softly, taking note or his eyes. definitely one of his many beautiful features.

“yeah, not a problem. i like your jacket by the way.” you smirked, seeing that you were wearing the same jacket, yet his was yellow. it fit him, the color.

he looked down quickly at his jacket as if he forgot he wore it today then looked back up at you with a toothy smile, it seemed genuine.

“thanks, i like yours too..” he spoke, looking like he wanted to say more but the elevator came to a stop as the doors started to open. he hesitated for a few seconds before gesturing for you to get off before him.

you grinned and stepped out only to see your boss waiting by the elevator. his face lit up when he saw the boy in the yellow jacket and went to shake his hand. “ah steven! how are you?” he greeted warmly and quite excitedly.

“uh— its stefan actually..” he replied, glancing back over to you for a moment before you realized you were already looking at him. (more like admiring)

you swallowed and quickly looked away. you muttered a to yourself about how dumb you may have looked while walking over to colin’s desk that was right across from yours. he seemed to be working on his newest game, Nohzdyve.

“how’s it going ritman? making yet another hit game?” you teased in a friendly manner before hopping into your own chair infant of your computer. colin looked up from his screen and simply gave a lazy thumbs up.

“it’s going alright L/N, now that you’ve found the bug it’s been much easier. i owe you one.” he spoke as he pushed up his glasses and finished typing a code needed for his game right as stefan and mr. boss man walked up to his desk.

“colin, this is stefan. he’s going to be showing me a demo for his new game. he’s also expressed his admiration for your games.” mr thakur spoke while putting his hand on a smiling stefan’s shoulder.

you simply rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself, typing away at your computer. what you did here was make the graphic art for most of the upcoming games made here, but you did also have a great talent for coding. colin often used your talent for help with his own games.

as you were working on the ideas for cover art that might be used for Nohzdyve, you got snapped back into reality.

“i couldn’t have done most of my games without the help of Y/N over here, well i could have, but not as quick.” colin grinned, gesturing towards you.

“ha ha ritman. very funny, piss off. but i’ve been somewhat acquainted with stefan. nice lad.” you smiled, snapping and giving him classic finger guns with your left hand.

stefan’s smile grew as his ears turned a light shade of pink. “th-thanks y/n.”

before you could say anything else colin let out a short laugh, almost a scoff. when you looked over at him with a questioning look he just smirked and turned in his chair to face thakur and stefan.

“y’know, i don’t think i need anymore assistance with my game, y/n has already done her part with my game. perhaps she can work with stefan if everything goes well.” colin suggested nonchalantly. wingman of the year.

agree | disagree

yes! YES! why aren’t i agreeing outloud? i don’t want to say no!

she clenched her jaw and held back the urge to say no to colin’s idea. she looked up at stefan and saw that his smile dropped and he looked somewhat confused.

you pushed with everything in you to get an answer that you liked out, for once it worked.

“i..i say yes, i’m free and i’d like to work with you.” you managed to get out, not seeming too forced.

after a few seconds he nodded, biting his nails what seemed to be out of habit. “sure, th-that’d be great..” he smiled, seeming suddenly calm.

“right then, should we get moving?” colin interrupted as he stood up and patted stefan’s shoulder, practically marking the other two men move to the office.

stare at stefan | get to work

y/n watched as they left, before the door closed she couldn’t take her eyes off of stefan.

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A/N: please leave your thoughts and let me know if you want to be on the tag list!

[otterbagel]

Not a Copy- RK800-60 (Colin) x Reader

Reader has been working at Cyberlife on a deviancy-safe version of their most advanced android, but that doesn’t stop the reader from becoming attached.

(Notes: THIS IS SO LONG. I didn’t even realize how much I’d written until I checked it on the word counter. 2.7 thousand! Anyway, I love this cocky dork. I really like the dynamic I have for the reader and him, I hope it came through somewhat in my rambles. May write another part for this at some point. Also, I used the name Colin because it seems to be the most common name for him.)

Warnings: Tense situations, some curse words.

  The commotion on your floor, although muffled, was frantic. Coworkers yelling at the prospect of being fired, gentle cries of those who were now a part of the giant unemployed statistic, and others simply discussing the radical chain of events over the past week. 

  Despite all of this, you absentmindedly stared at the ground, gently tapping at your cup as you covered your mouth with your hand in your office chair. A muted news feed was pulled up on your computer, showing the standoff between the androids and military outside a recall camp. Every android produced by Cyberlife was supposed to be immediately destroyed. The company, if it survived the next few hours, would be downsized almost completely. 

  And yet, you had not been terminated.

  Once most of your floor was unceremoniously kicked from the company, you had expected your call to arrive in the next hour. After-all, you hadn't done much for the company. You had only been here for half a year. Many loyal employees had been thrown out, why not you? As you hid from the others, who were likely highly emotional, you came to one conclusion. 

  The nature of your work.

  Aside from some small coding jobs between household androids, you had only received one big project. It wasn't even really your project. You was supposed to refine an already existing model's code, to make it more obedient. It had struck you as odd; why was an android not being obedient in the first place? Where were these opposing orders coming from? Either way, you did as you were told.

  It was only when this 'Android Revolution' started, did you realize why this was needed. The prototype that was being used to hunt deviants was a highly advanced abstract thinker. The likelihood of him becoming a deviant was too high to let him go without some sort of check in place.

  A polite knock at the door caused you to jolt, nearly spilling your drink everywhere. You gripped it with both hands as you calmed from your near heart attack. "Come in," you called, shaking as you set the cup on your table. You sighed as your RK800 model entered and closed the door. "Geez, Colin, you scared me to death."

  "Hello. And I apologize," he greeted, standing beside you. "I've heard that many Cyberlife employees have been terminated. Are you one of them?"

  You shook your head, looking at the news and back to him. "Not sure. They haven't called me yet."

  He nodded. "That's nice." 

  You picked up a pen and laid back in your chair as you caught a glimpse of the recall center. Their skinless bodies were hard to see with the thick layer of snow on the the ground. The image made you uncomfortable. 

  You noticed Colin watching the screen intently, head turned slightly to the side like a curious animal. You raised an eyebrow as a question came to mind. "How does that make you feel?" 

  "I can't feel anything. I'm not alive." he responded, not moving his attention from the screen.

  You rolled your eyes, playing with the pen. "Okay, then what do you think of all of-" you pointed to the screen. "-that."

  He parted his lips as he briefly looked at you. "Well, I find it to be quite the waste of technology," he joked. "but I understand the circumstances." He sat down in the chair you had reserved for him, which made you smile. He didn't need to sit down, chat with you, or even visit you. But he did. And it meant a lot to you. 

  But you felt... unsure.

  He looked back to you, clearly noticing your discomfort. He smiled. "You know, if I was deployed, we'd have Markus by now." 

  You chuckled. "Big words for someone who's never been out of these walls," you retorted.

  He shrugged. "Its what I was designed to do."

  You both returned to watching the screen. You used to worry that you had failed in preventing this RK800 from deviating. No matter how many code edits you made, no matter how many cognition tests you ran, you could never make the human qualities go away. 

  And, after a while, you stopped trying.

  The last time you had tried, you had been working overtime well into the night. After becoming frustrated with his code, you basically had a breakdown. After he calmed you, you realized how much he meant to you. You didn't want him to lose the qualities that made him the way he was.

  Deep down, you wanted him to become deviant. It took you a long time to identify that feeling. You didn't even know if it was possible after all your efforts to prevent it, but you could hope. 

  When had you started rooting for the deviants? When did you start accepting that they were feeling emotions? When had you started calling Colin a he instead of an it? You wasn't sure on any of those things.

  You heard a knock at the door, Colin and you both rising from your chairs in anticipation. "Come in," you yelled, taking a nervous look at Colin in the process. Your boss, Rodger Bailey, entered the room.

  While most of your department was full of quirky but quiet individuals, Rodger was the exact opposite. He was wearing an overly formal suit along with a stoic expression, eyes trained on you.

  "Hello, Mr. Bailey." you greeted, fiddling your hands together.

  "Yes," he greeted you. "I'm sure you're aware of the... state of things." he motioned with his eyes towards your desktop. 

  You nodded, looking over. Things were mostly the same since you last checked. Colin stood off to the side silently, arms held politely behind his back.

  He breathed in. "I wanted to tell you that, as we expected, the RK800-51 went deviant." 

  "It did?"

  "Yes. This is where your work comes in. Have that-" he pointed at Colin. "Destroy the -51 model. We believe its going to be here soon." You looked at Colin, who kept an emotionless expression as he watched Bailey.

  "What's going to happen to the company after all this?" you questioned.

  Bailey furrowed his brows, looking at you like you were insane. "Cyberlife is over. Whether or not this whole 'revolution' pans out doesn't matter. No consumer will trust us anymore. All that's being decided on is if androids will be destroyed or not." He stated. There was moment of silence before he turned around. "Have a good night." He left the room without hearing your response, shutting the door quietly behind him.

  You stared at the floor as you lightly touched your lips. What he had said repeated itself in your mind. If androids didn't get their rights, all androids would be scrapped. If they did get their freedom, then would Colin get caught up in his orders?

  Colin called your name gently, moving his head to enter your view of the floor. "Are you alright?"

  "Y-yes," you responded, noticing his fervent observation. This whole situation made you feel awful. Why did you have to get so attached to him? 

  He straightened his posture. "Do you want me to start my mission now?"

  You gulped.

  You had no good excuse as to why he couldn't. He was perfectly fit for the task; you had spent the last half a year making sure of that. Your only reasons were from your newfound agreement with deviants and your feelings towards him.

  You held your breath, staring the confused android in the eyes. "I... I don't want you to get hurt." you choked out finally, alarmed at the words escaping your mouth. Colin's eyes widened.

  "What?"

  You struggled to speak again. "I know, its crazy- especially how I work on androids for a living," you laughed out in a panic. "But you made me think differently. I know you're alive. And so are all of them out there!" You pointed to the screen, on the verge of tears.

  He mumbled your name before gesturing to his chest. "I'm a machine. I'm built to be used by humans. That's all I'm for." 

  You knew he would say something like that. You knew it was pointless. You hated this situation. The other RK800 had to die because you had forced Colin to live as a machine. This was al-

  "Please don't cry." Colin spoke quickly, putting his hands on your shoulders. You wiped your eyes quickly, not realizing that they had become wet. He enveloped you in a hug.

  "Yeah," you smiled, patting him on the back as you sniffled. "JUST a machine. Sure, Colin." You felt him smile against your shoulder, which helped calm you down.

  The situation seemed hopeless. 

  You ran through a bunch of different scenarios in your mind, all of which you concluded were impossible or unlikely to succeed. Your room was probably being watched closely in case you tried something brash, so you couldn't just sneak him out. If you refused to send him out, then a higher up would likely do it instead. If you managed to somehow get him to go deviant right now, then practically the whole company would know immediately and have him destroyed. You pulled away from him, watching his face as he inspected you. 

  An idea.

  You pulled away to head to your desktop, Colin watching you from over your shoulder. Your typing was littered with mistakes as you hurried to find the information you needed; you didn't have much time before others would wonder why Colin hadn't started his mission yet.

  "What are you searching for? I may be able to find it faster," he asked, fairly monotone.

  You pointed at the screen in an accusatory way. "Bring him here. Connor would probably give up if Anderson was in danger." You showed him a file on the partner Connor had been assigned to. If you could make Colin have a similar experience as Connor, maybe he would turn to deviancy.

  Colin nodded his head. "That's a good strategy," he responded.

  "Don't forget to download all of his memories as well. You may need them to convince Anderson to accompany you." 

  "Of course." he replied. "Do you wish for me to begin now?"

  You sighed, lightly touching his fingertips with your own. "Please be careful." He watched you with a gentle smile. "You can go."

-

  After Colin had headed out, you resigned yourself to silently watching the news. It wasn't looking good for the deviants. You exhaled with anxiety as you looked over the report on Anderson. It appeared he and the RK800 had a fairly good partnership. You hoped it wasn't about to end.

  You decided to skim through some of the things Connor had uploaded. You rolled through the page with the wheel of your mouse, gently chewing on your thumbnail. 

  Your heart stopped.

  Almost all of it was case related. No surprise there, honestly. But you had expected some personal experiences or memories, but there was nothing save for some of Anderson's opinions. You rubbed your face with a groan. You messed up. For someone who wanted to help deviants, you seemed to be doing everything in your power to make them fail. 

  You took a look at Colin's memory. There was a lot of menial things in there; various tools you used on him, different parts of the building you had taken him to, and some dietary information on your meals. You snickered at the differences between the RK800s. When you remembered the situation, you just looked over the meaningless information about you with a solemn feeling in your gut.

  You mulled over everything you two had done together over the months, realizing how empty it all would've been without him. He turned boring coding scripts into your favorite memories. How he would always badger you at mealtimes about how unhealthy it was. You always found solace with him and no one else.

  You would lose the most important part of your life if something happened to him.

  You jumped out of your chair, checking his location. He was already back, probably with Anderson. You switched off your computer and sped out your door. As much as you wanted to sprint, it would definitely arouse suspicion from your already angry coworkers.

  You hit the button of the elevator, calling it up. What was Connor planning on doing here? You chewed on your lip as you anticipated the upcoming car. He likely wouldn't plan on interacting with the higher ups; he should know they would be heavily guarded. You stepped in as the doors opened. 

  The warehouse?

  "Floor -49." you ordered the elevator, fiddling with your hands. It sped downwards quickly, but not quickly enough for your liking. What exactly were you planning on doing down here anyway? Catching Colin before he interacted with Connor? Preventing anyone from getting hurt? Helping the deviants?

  As you started to slow down, the desired floor became visible. You stood close to the glass, peering down. An older man, who you assumed was Anderson, was standing with his back to you. Two RK800s were standing in front of him, both of them watching you descend on the elevator. One of them said something as the doors opened, causing Anderson to turn halfway to watch both you and the androids.

  "Who the fuck are you?" he yelled, motioning the gun he was holding at you. You took a slow step out with your hands raised.

  "I-I'm a Cyberlife employee," you stuttered, trying to keep your voice steady. You eyed both the androids. It was too far to identify their serial numbers. "I want everyone to get out of this alive."

  "Why should I trust you, exactly?"

  You slowly approached, trying to walk around to get to the RK800s. They both seemed equally interested in watching you. "I made a mistake." you said simply, paying little attention to the gun trained on you. You were inspecting the jackets. -51 and -60. 

  That one was Colin.

  You sped up your pace, keeping your hands raised as you walked in front of Colin. "HEY, HEY, HEY!" you heard behind you. You stood steadfast in front of Colin, Connor beside you looking confused as he backed away. You gritted your teeth as you stared down the barrel of the pistol, slightly transfixed as you lowered your arms. 

  Colin scolded you with your name. "Why are you down here?!"

  You flipped your head around to look at him. "I couldn't just let you die like this." He looked as though he was about to argue, but stopped when he took in the desperation on your face. He put a hand into yours. "Colin, abort mission." 

  Anderson slowly lowered his gun to a more neutral stance, still keeping a close eye on the two of you. You turned to face Colin as your breathing calmed. He looked both angry and exhausted, which was weird for an android. "Why didn't you just let me finish my mission? You could've gotten hurt." he whispered forcefully.

  You pointed a finger into his chest. "YOU could've gotten hurt!" you shot back, taking brief note of Connor interacting with a warehouse android.

  "That doesn't matter." he mumbled, crossing his arms. 

  "It matters to me!" you hissed, getting fed up with the months of similar arguments. "You mean a lot to me. I can't believe you couldn't pick that up. Aren't you supposed to be a detective or something?" His eyes widened, appearing shocked.

  "Whoa, calm it down lovebirds," joked Anderson behind you, causing embarrassment to wash over you quickly. 

  "I'm sorry if I caused you to worry," Colin responded. You chewed on your lip. "You mean a lot to me as well. I didn't want my actions to affect you negatively. However, it appears that happened despite my precautions."

  "No, I wanted you to deviate. I want you to be happy. I just want you to be with me!" you beamed, him looking equally as enthused as you held your hands together.

  Connor flipped around as all the surrounding androids came to life. "I just got an update from Markus," he looked between your group. "They're backing off and the camps have been closed. We won."

  "Really!?" you exclaimed, bouncing up and down. "You get to be free!"

  Colin looked amused. "Does that mean I get to fix your diet?"

  "Wait, no-"  

[fionnthebandersnacc]

Finally (Stefan x reader)

Summary: The reader has a big, fat, life-disturbing crush on Stefan, but is too shy to talk to him (at all), so Colin, being the good friend and wingman he is, steps in and takes matters into his own hands. (god I'm terrible at summaries).

Pairing(s): Stefan x reader, Colin x reader (platonic)

Requested: Nope.

Warnings: Cussing, cheeky Colin, innuendos, some kisses ;).

A/N: I uploaded this to my Wattpad but I thought I should upload it here too because why the fuck not? I promise I am working on the requests I have in my inbox!! Almost finished the first one and I’ll hopefully get it up later tonight (or this morning depending on where you are??). This is an AU where Bandersnatch was successful, but without all of the bad stuff, ya know, Stefan killing his dad and getting arrested (or dying). Also lmao Colin is in this a lot more than I intended, but I just love his character so much. Also the reader and Colin have been friends their whole lives in this fic, that's why they're so close (don't take their encounters the wrong way!) Also (y/n/n) just means "your nickname"

Word count: 1,955

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Colin had known you since before he could remember, but he had never seen you in such a state as this. All day, every day, for the past two months, all you could talk about was Thakur's newest employee, Stefan Butler, who'd been hired as a permanent game developer after the success of his first game, Bandersnatch. Colin had told you about Stefan, but you hadn't met him yet. The moment you saw him walk nervously into the office, Colin saw the stars in your eyes. At first he was worried, thinking he'd accidentally slipped you one of his tabs, but it wasn't long before he realized: you had a crush. This wasn't unusual, you'd had crushes before of course, but never one like this. Normally, you were fairly confident around your crushes, but when you and Colin were introduced to Stefan, you barely uttered two words. Something about him made you nervous beyond measure. For weeks following their meeting, Colin watched you pine over him from afar, never once approaching him or making any sort of attempt to talk to him, to the point that you practically ran out of the room whenever Stefan came around.

Of course, although you never talked directly to Stefan, you'd always pin Colin down after work, walking home with him, going on and on about how cute Stefan was, asking never ending questions about Stefan, and crying that you'd never be good enough for him, to which Colin always rebutted "(y/n) mate, you are more than good enough for him." One night, after a strangely relaxed day at work, Colin asked to walk you home. You accepted, glad for the company, and glad to have someone to vent to. "Col!! He is so adorable, I think I might die. I just want to run up and kiss him. Oh my god, I could never do that, what am I saying?" Colin walked beside you silently, highly enjoying listening to you ramble on about Stefan. "Did you see how cute he looked today? I love that green sweater." Colin chuckled as your eyes glossed over the way they often did when you talked about Stefan.

"I suppose it is a nice color on him. You should tell him that." At this you scoffed, smacking Colin lightly on the arm. "I'd sooner lock Thakur in the maintenance closet and throw away the key than tell Stefan that I think he looks cute in green. Let alone talk to him at all." you replied.

Colin chuckled at your dramatic comment, tapping his chin in thought. "You know, I'd pay good money to see that (y/n)."

"Yeah well, as amusing as it would be, I like my job, Colin." Just as you reach the steps to your apartment building, you look up and see him deep in thought. "What's on your mind? I can see your wheels turning." Colin just shrugs, giving you a mischievous smirk. You frown in concern, slightly worried about what he could be planning. "Colin..."

"Don't worry about it! It's nothing, I was just remembering the episode of the Brady Bunch where Bobby locks himself in the closet." You squint at him, causing him to throw his hands up defensively. You roll your eyes and ruffle his hair. "You are such a weirdo." He smirks, and pats you on the head. "And yet I'm your best friend. What does that say about you?" You scoff at take a swipe at him, whining as he easily dodges your attack. "I'll see you tomorrow (y/n/n)." You shake your head and give him a quick hug. "See you tomorrow Col." Colin watched you walk inside, before turning around and walking briskly down the street, grinning as he started planning for tomorrow.

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You walk into the office the next day to see Colin sitting at his desk, sipping at his coffee and running through his code. You wrap an arm around his shoulders and ruffle his platinum hair, causing you to wonder what it would be like to run your hands through Stefan's hair. "Morning Col." He lifts his head, smirking up at you as he wraps his arm around your waist.

"Morning (y/n/n)." His roguish tone causes you to squint at him wearily. You gently pull yourself out of his arm and walk around to your desk, squinting at him all the while, eliciting a laugh from him. "What is up with you? You're acting weird." He grins slyly, picking up a pen and twirling it in his fingers. "Nothing. Nothing's up (y/n/n). Actually, if you wouldn't mind, could you grab me the screen cleaning kit from the supply closet?" You look at Colin flatly.

"You have legs. You can get it yourself mate." you drawl.

"Yeah I suppose I could, but you're already standing up and you're closer to the closet." You groan, nodding your head in defeat and walking down the hall. Colin lets you go for a few seconds, before getting out of his chair and quietly following after you. You fail to notice this in your sleep-deprived state, and as you crouch down in front of the cabinet, you suddenly hear the door slam shut. Panicked, you run to the door, just to hear it click, followed by a small chuckle. "Colin, I swear to god if you don't let me out of this closet right now..."

"Trust me (y/n/n), I'm doing you a favor."

"By locking me in a closet? Colin!" He just laughs, and you hear him walk away. You bang your fists on the door and call out for someone, anyone, but to no avail. With a defeated sigh, you walk to the broken safe in the corner and taking a seat, head in your hands.

You don't know how much time has passed before you hear the lock on the door slide. Relieved, you stand up, waiting for the door to open. As you prepare yourself to give Colin an earful for locking you in that goddamn closet, the door opens and you stumble back in shock, at the sight of Stefan. "(y/n)? What are you do-" before he can finish Colin shoves him inside the closet and scrambles to shut the door. You take the opportunity to fling yourself forward and pull on the doorknob, but to your disappointment, Colin has already shut the door and locked it. You remember Stefan in the room, turning around sheepishly to see him looking as confused as one would expect. He locks eyes with you, making you squirm and turn away, banging your fist on the door. "Colin, I love you but fucking let me out right now or I will tell Thakur that it was you who put that sardine in his coffee."

“Nice try, but he already knows (y/n). And I love ya too. That's precisely why I'm doing this. You'll thank me later. I'll let you out once you've talked to him."

"Talked to who? Me?" Stefan had remained silent until now, but hearing his voice made you even more panicked. "Colin let me the fuck out!! Please! Colin!!" You slump against the door, listening to the sound of his retreating footsteps.

Turning around nervously, you watch Stefan take a seat on the floor, following suit by sliding down the door to the ground. "I'm sorry that Colin locked you in here with me." You look everywhere but him, your heart is going a million miles an hour. "You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault at all." Your heart warms at his kindness, making your cheeks flush. You sigh, rubbing your eyes. "Actually it is my fault. He locked you in here because of me." You finally look him in the eyes, those beautiful green orbs, to find him looking incredibly confused. "I-I don't understand. Why would he do that?" He looks down, and you miss the way his shoulders slump. "You hate me. Why on earth would he lock me in here with you?" He mutters. You flinch at those unexpected words, you hate me. "What makes you think that?" he looks up at you again, a dejected expression on his face. "You always run away from me. You barely spoke to me when we met. Hell, this is probably the longest conversation we've ever had!" He exclaims, exasperated. You turn red at his description of your conduct. It never occurred to you that your shy behavior could've been interpreted as indifference. Suddenly the nerve you'd struck up to even look at him dissipated. "I-I don't hate you, Stefan." your voice is barely above a whisper, and his face softens when he hears this. "Then why do you always avoid me?" You take a deep breath, looking away from him. "I-I just-" You can't seem to get the words out, and you sigh, burying your head in your hands. You hear him moving across the room, and suddenly you feel him pull your hands away from your face, waiting patiently for you to explain. You take another breath, steeling yourself up. "I avoid you because-" you look up and he nods, encouraging you to continue. "Ah fuck it. I avoid you...because I like you. I have since we met. That's why I couldn't talk to you...you make me nervous." You blush profusely as you finally get the words out, pulling your arms out of his hands and avoiding his burning gaze. Your heart sinks at the silence, and you blush even harder. "I'm sorry for springing this on you, I don't expect you to recipro-" you trail off as his hands gently cup your face, lifting your head to meet his eyes. You hadn't noticed how close he had moved towards you, and you shiver, feeling his breath fan your face. "Don't apologise," he whispers, running his thumb over your jaw. He angles his face closer to you, and your eyes flutter shut, right as his lips meet yours. You don't move at first, shocked that he was kissing you in the first place, but soon you find yourself melting into his embrace. The kiss is gentle and sweet, his warm lips moving in sync with yours as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You tangle your hands in his soft brown hair, relishing in the warmth of your proximity. After what feels like forever, you come up for air, and Stefan starts trailing soft kisses down your neck and along your collarbone, nibbling gently on the skin in the nape of your neck. Just as Stefan slips his fingers under the hem of your shirt, the door opens, and Colin stands there, grinning smugly. "Well that went well. Should I've left you a pack of condoms?" Before he can register what is happening, you fly at him, slapping his arms and his chest. He tries to block your sharp blows, but you manage to get a few good hits in while you shout at him. "Don't ever lock me in a closet again you prick!" He smirks down at you, and you can't help but smile back. You sigh and throw your arms around his neck. "Thank you Col. I don't approve of your methods, but thanks."

"Any time (y/n/n)." He pats you on the back and turns you around, gesturing to Stefan. You walk over to him, and he takes your hand. The confidence he gained in the closet seemed to have dwindled, as he shyly looks up at you. "I know this is short notice, but would you want to grab dinner with me tonight? After work?" You smile softly at him, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. "Of course, I'd love to."

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A/N: Feel free to reblog, I don’t mind☺️hope y’all liked it