#also u can tell maria was written by a man

[bunisher]

this is a couple years too late but ….. does anybody else in our great fratt nation absolutely despise jason aaron’s 2022 version of frank 🫣

[pearlessance]

Moral Modification

Summary: When you decide to pierce your nipples, Joel Miller breaks his moral code to lend a helping hand.

Pairing: JacksonEra!Joel Miller/reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content MDNI, seduction, age gap(undefined), piercings and needles, nipple play, moral ambiguity, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, size difference

NOTE: this one shot was written for my bff joelmillersgirlfriend and all of the bolded words are titles of her fics over on AO3!! if you haven't read any of her work i def recommend going over there to check it out she's incredible. we also have a 3-part co-write we did on AO3 called False Pretenses! thank you to everyone for reading, love u all <3

[cross posted on AO3]

[masterlist]

You find it on a scouting mission.

Maria had sent you and Joel out in search of books to fill the shelves of Jackson’s overused library. It was a leisurely mission, moving slowly from house to house, searching through broken shelves and dressers and nightstands.

The blistering summer heat has you feeling exhausted by midday, and so the sun hasn’t even set when you pick a still-standing apartment complex and settle in for the night.

You drop your pack and flop onto the moth-eaten couch while Joel triple-checks every exit and every entrance in the tiny apartment he’d picked on the very top floor. He’s going at it again, glancing out of the wide windows with his rifle in hand, when you say, “If there was a way in or out, I think you would’ve found it the third time.”

He doesn’t say anything. Not a man of many words, Joel Miller. But he was certainly fun to torture with lewd suggestions. 

“It’s real hot today,” you say. And it’s the goddamn truth—your skin is warm and your shirt sticks to the small of your back, and even though you’re wearing jean shorts the fabric chafes at your thighs. 

He does nothing but grunt in agreement as a reply. Few words. 

Though you try, you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you tell him, “We’d be a lot cooler if we took off some of these clothes, you know.”

Joel Miller is a good man. A really good man. This is why he pretends you don’t get to him, why he pretends to shrug you off as just a naive little girl whenever you brazenly flirt with him.

But you see it. 

The way his calloused hands tighten around his rifle, the flush that creeps up his neck, the way he turns his head just enough to keep that smirk from out of view. “You’re ridiculous,” he says. But he leaves his spot at the window and joins you on the couch instead.

You set your legs in his lap and when he rests his hand on your calf you half expect him to push you away. But he doesn’t—his fingers linger, pressing into the tender muscle. “How am I ridiculous? It’s only common sense, Mr. Miller.”

His eyes catch yours at the name. He’s never directly said it, but you have a hunch that it does something to him, speaking to him as an authority. A part of you wonders if he ever thinks of you in the way you think of him, wonders if his mind is often filled with sinful, raw images. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” You do. Of course, you do. But you’re out here all alone and he’s sitting beside you and you can feel the heat of his skin against yours and he’s so big and warm and masculine. You want him, need him in a way you’ll never even try to understand. “Explain it to me,” you urge.

Joel leans his rifle against the arm of the couch and reaches up to rub the tension from his jaw. He smiles, one of those all-knowing smiles that makes your heart flutter. It’s a secret sort of smile, meant for just you and him. “You got any idea how old I am, girl?”

You shrug and say, “It doesn’t matter.” Because it doesn’t. “I like that you’re older. Besides, I’m not talking about that.” You are. “I’m talking about the weather. The heat. I’m going to take my shorts off.”

Slowly, carefully, you trail your fingertips over the curve of your chest, down the center of your abdomen. His eyes follow your every movement, pupils blown wide and jaw set firmly. His hand flexes around your calf, squeezing softly.

When you slip the edge of your pinky beneath the denim waistband his lips part. You trace the seam, from one hip to the other and back again, real slow. Joel watches you and you watch him, transfixed, thighs pressed together to abate the ache that forms between them.

For a moment, a single moment, you think you have him. You can see the temptation on his face, clear as day. You think you’ve finally cracked the eternal goodness and strength of one Joel Miller…but his hand covers yours the moment you reach for the silver button.

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks and you feel a little like you’ve been caught red handed. 

His fingers squeeze yours, but his touch is so sudden and electrifying that the faintest whimper erupts from your chest. You want him to touch you with those hands, to touch you everywhere. You want him to take all that you offer and more.

But he’s just so good. “Stop,” he says, breathless. 

The hesitance is palpable. The strain in his voice. You know he wants you, can see the growing erection pushing at the metallic zipper of his jeans from the other end of the couch. You know it’ll only take a little more convincing, a little more of the delicious chase…but you want the final decision to be his. You want him to need it, too.

So you relent.

You stand to your feet and move towards the staircase in the abandoned apartment. But when you step between his thighs, you linger. “Did you check for any books upstairs?”

He shakes his head. “No. Don’t think whoever lived here before were much the readin’ type.”

“Yeah, well…didn’t think you were much the reading type, either. But here you are.”

Joel shrugs. “Not much to do at the end of the world. Helps pass the time.”

You knock your knee against his playfully. “You even know how to read, old man?” He chuckles softly and it feels like a victory. “Never seen you in the library.”

He spreads his legs further to give you more room, settling into the couch with his head tilted back. You know he doesn’t mean to look that fucking good doing it, but he does. Taking up all that space, commanding without even trying. It makes your mouth water, makes your skin prickle in every spot he allows himself to look. And then he says lowly, “I’ve seen you.”

It gives you pause. Because if he’s seen you in the library back in Jackson but you haven’t seen him, it means he notices you. Even when you’re not out here alone, even when you’re not urging him to touch you, even when you’re not trying. A seductive smirk finds your lips. “You gotta crush on me or something, Mr. Miller?”

Joel scoffs and shakes his head, turning away from you to hide the redness on his face that has nothing to do with the heat.

You giggle softly and decide to grant him a little reprieve. “I’ll be back,” you say, escaping the growing tension and focusing instead on the task at hand. “If they don’t have books, maybe they have something else that could be useful. Clothes or shoes or batteries or something.”

It only takes a few minutes before you realize what he meant when he said the past inhabitants of the apartment don’t seem much like the reading type. There’s not a single bookshelf to be found. Nothing on the walls, nothing standing in the spare room. There are three computers, though. Not that they’re worth anything now. 

Still, you try your damndest to find something. Anything. You rifle through drawers and find nothing but a cracked and weathered bible, of which you have a thousand and one copies in Jackson.

The closest thing you find to a real book is a stack of magazines in the cluttered bathroom. All are covered in a thick layer of dust and most have images of sports cars on the front, but they’re worth grabbing, anyway. You’re sure Tommy or Greg or someone wouldn’t mind skimming through them, so you grab the whole stack and return downstairs to Joel. 

You’re halfway down the stairs when the magazine on the bottom of the stack tumbles from your hands. And it’s not a sports car on the front page.

Instead, it’s a woman all dressed up in leather. She wears platform boots that reach her knees, adorned with heavy silver buckles down the front. Even though you were born not long after the outbreak, you’re not oblivious. You know what pornography is, but you’ve never seen anything quite like this.

You pick it up and put it on the top of the pile.

When Joel sees the small stack in your hand he asks, “Anything good?”

“Mm. Not sure yet.” You set the pile onto the floor beside your pack, nestle back into your spot in the opposite corner of the couch, and flip open the magazine with the leather-clad woman on the front, reading the title aloud. “Have you ever heard of a porno mag named Dreadnought?” 

“What are you—is that—?”

“I’m just curious, Mr. Miller. Relax.” You lift your feet and put them back in his lap and discover he is anything but relaxed. You can feel the stiffness in his thighs even through the thick soles of your high-top sneakers.

“No, what? No, you shouldn’t—you should…”

You ignore his stuttering, flipping quickly through the pages. Most of them are filled with erotic images of women dressed similarly to the one on the front page. They each have a man in a curious, submissive position. But none of this interests you, none of it even surprises you, in truth.

Near the end of the magazine is where you find exactly what you’re looking for. The woman on the front page is in different outfits, one in leather, another in red lace. But it’s the third page of her feature where she’s completely naked. Her breasts are full and sit too high on her chest to be real, but they’re beautiful. Not for any reason other than those pretty silver barbells that are pierced through her nipples. 

You lean up, tucking your legs beneath yourself, and show Joel the image. “Was this common? You know, like…before?”

His face is red and you think maybe he’s forgotten how to speak. Because no words come out, he just sputters. “Is…what…which part—are you…I don’t—”

“I’ve never seen anyone with pierced nipples,” you interrupt. “That’s what I’m talking about. Was it common?”

He seems to find himself. “Uhm…no. Not really, I guess. Why do you ask?”

You shrug and find yourself leaning into his side, flipping to the next page. There’s another image of the woman, and though she’s back in that red lace again, you can see the piercings pushing against the thin fabric. “It’s pretty,” you say. “I like it. Do you think you could do something like that still?”

“Well, back then they had people who’d do that sorta thing professionally,” he says. “But as long as you’re careful, I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to.”

You let it go, and the two of you ration what food you have left, deciding to head back to the commune within the next day or two. You fall asleep leaning up against him, head resting on his shoulder. And you know Joel doesn’t rest much outside of Jackson’s walls, always too worried about being found or threatened in some way. But halfway through the night, you wake covered in a thin layer of sweat, scorched by the warmth of his head against your belly.

At some point in your sleep, you’d shifted, laying on the couch on your back, and Joel must have followed you. His arms are wrapped around your waist and his torso covers your legs, body heat warming you to uncomfortable temperatures. 

But you don't dare move. Instead, you slide your fingers through the soft tendrils of his hair and scratch softly at his scalp, smiling in the dark as he moans in his sleep.

Your luck the following day is much better. You stumble upon an old strip mall, and inside there’s a small, indie bookstore. Joel picks through the science fiction section, stuffing his pack with everything he thinks might be interesting. He finds a few children’s books and pockets those, too, while you browse the romance section.

Half the books are crumbling dust in your hands and the others have so much water damage they’re hardly legible, but you pick up what you can. While you’re rifling through the horror books, stashing anything written by Stephen King or H.P. Lovecraft, Joel comes up behind you and says, “You really read that kinda thing?”

“What, scary stuff?”

He nods, takes the copy of Carrie from your hands, and flips it over. “Yeah. Ain’t we got enough horror out there already?” 

You roll your eyes dramatically. “It’s not the same,” you explain. You flick the corner of the book in his hands and go back to browsing the shelves. “ This you can turn off,” you try to explain. “If you get too scared you can just close the book. Have you ever read anything scary before?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not really.”

“Try it one day,” you say. “The best time is in October, though. Under the sheets with a flashlight, scared out of your mind. It’s so good, Mr. Miller.” 

His jaw feathers as if there’s something he wants to say. But the words never pass his lips. He simply slips the book into your pack and remains silent as he watches you. 

It takes a while, but eventually, you’re satisfied with your haul. The day is still early, and so you say, “If we head back now we could save some time. Get home before dark tomorrow.”

To your surprise, he agrees with you. The extra weight of the books has you feeling sluggish an hour into your journey back home, but you persist. And even though it’s significantly less hot today than yesterday, at least once an hour Joel’s passing you his plastic bottle and urging you to drink water.

It’s a sweet gesture, in truth. Joel’s got this innate instinct to provide for others, you know. You’ve seen it a hundred times, the way he just silently takes care of the people he cares about. Ellie, Tommy, Maria, you. You’ve observed him for long enough to know that he’s a protector, a nurturer.

The only problem with Joel taking care of you is how much you like it. It makes you feel soft and gooey on the inside, producing sordid images in your brain of repaying the favor on your knees. You think about Joel’s big hands on you often—in your dreams, even. 

But…today is different because you can feel the weight of the magazine at the bottom of your pack. You can’t shake the image of the woman on the cover and that metal through her breasts, can’t get over how elegant and edgy and bewitching she looked. You begin to wonder how it would feel to have Joel touch you if you had the same body modification—would his calloused hands feel more intense, sensations heightened with the sensitivity? Would he be gentle and slow-moving? How soft would his tongue feel against your skin over the adornment? 

He seems to sense your distracted thoughts. “You okay? Seem quiet.”

“Fine,” you answer a little too quickly. “I’m just…just hot is all.”

Joel reaches behind him for his water bottle again but you shake your head. 

“No, no. Not like…not like that.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, and you can feel his eyes on the side of your face but you don’t have the energy to tease him about it. Not when you can’t stop thinking about his fucking hands. “Let's, uhm…let’s find someplace to rest for the night. Sun’s startin’ to set anyhow.”

“Yeah, that’ll be good.” As long as you stay six feet away from him. As long as you can keep your godforsaken hands to yourself. As long as he doesn’t look at you too long or ask too many questions or grunt an answer.

You find yourself praying, hoping to keep yourself from any further embarrassment, hoping to fight off that ache that seems to have made a home inside your belly. You cross your fingers at your sides and hope God’s got a private channel open for young girls with an insatiable desire for rugged, older men. 

It feels like divine interference when you crest the hill of the street you're walking on to discover a run-down tattoo parlor. It still stands in perfect condition apart from the crumbling siding. Windows dirty but intact, door closed and stagnant.

A distraction will work.

And it looks sturdy enough to rest for the night. You know Joel will circle it a hundred times before he’s satisfied, but you think eventually he will be satisfied with it. “Didn’t people do piercings at tattoo shops, too?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, they did. At most of them, anyway.”

The thought seems to cross Joel’s mind the second you look at him. “Do you think I could…?”

“Maybe. Let’s see.” 

You follow behind him as he approaches the building. He uses his knife to wedge the door open, and the two of you wait and listen for any approaching sound. 

There’s nothing, though. Nothing but stale, empty air, and a whole lot of dust. You stick by his side for the first two rounds of inspection, as is your routine. But when he goes back in for a third, you decide to take a look around yourself. 

In the front of the parlor, there’s a big, circular desk that sits atop the black and white tiles on the floor. The walls are painted maroon, and there’s a neon yellow leather couch near the door. You can only assume it’s where people would sit to wait, but the leather is smooth beneath your fingers even after all this time sitting unoccupied.

There are six smaller rooms behind the desk, each set up similarly with a blackout curtain and a medical-looking chair in the very center. In one of the rooms, there’s a binder flipped open, and as you begin to turn the pages you realize it’s an art portfolio. 

For a moment, you wonder about the person who’d drawn all of these designs. How old were they when they drew them? Did they have tattoos themselves? Are they still alive, out there somewhere still creating art?

People in Jackson still get tattoos, you know. But not as often as you think it might have been before the outbreak. You trail your fingers lightly over the next page. It’s an image of a glass half-filled with amber liquid, some sloshing out of the side. Below it, the words Tennessee Whiskey are written in cursive.

“Should be good.” His voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. When you turn to face him, Joel’s got his rifle slung over one shoulder and he’s leaning against the doorframe, curtain pushed to the side. “Help me barricade the door?”

The two of you spend the next ten minutes moving furniture around the parlor, setting it all in front of the entrance. It’ll be harder to leave in the morning, you know. But you know, too, that a barricade like this means that Joel’s feeling too exhausted to spend another night pacing and you’re happy to give him the assurance of safety he needs. 

When you’re done, he spreads out on the leather couch and you put your pack beside his. “Joel?”

He turns just his head to look at you.

You sift through the books in your pack and reach towards the bottom, pulling out the magazine that’s plagued your every waking thought. “I’m going to pierce my nipples, I think.”

For several seconds, he doesn’t say a word in response. He just swallows hard and when his eyes leave yours, trailing down your neck, he squeezes them closed before they reach your chest. But you know, you know, even without any words, that he’s thinking about it. That he’s thinking about you, forgetting his morals for a single second.

It isn’t until you stand to your feet and start towards the closed-off rooms, magazine in hand, that he finally speaks up.

“Be careful,” he says. “I don’t want you hurt.”

You smirk at him over your shoulder. “Is that the Mr. Miller version of saying, I care about your tits?”

He snorts incredulously, but a chuckle follows shortly after, erasing all of your earlier embarrassment.

It doesn’t take you long to find the materials you need. In one of the cases you pry open with your knife, you choose two matching silver barbells with dainty, white diamonds on each end. You use a cloth to clean off a tall mirror in one of the rooms, and there’s a bottle of isopropyl alcohol that you use to disinfect both a steel surgical tray and your hands. 

You discard your shirt and bra, laying them in the chair in the middle of the room, and flip the magazine open to further observe the woman in the image. Thankfully, you find a drawer full of individually packaged needles and take out several just in case. 

Sterilizing your hands with the alcohol again, you align the jewelry over your nipple, inspecting the placement and maneuvering it until you’re satisfied. You rip open one of the packaged needles with your teeth and sterilize it too for good measure.

Carefully, you orient the needle just right, inhale until your lungs ache, and when you exhale—

“God fucking dammit!”

You can hear his footsteps before the sound of his rifle, and then comes his voice. “You alright? What happened?”

Your exhale is somehow shakier than your hands. “I’m okay, Joel,” you say quickly. You knew it was going to hurt, you’re literally piercing a needle through your flesh. But you didn’t expect it to be so excruciating. It stings even now with the needle pushed through, completely still.

He stands in the doorway, rifle lowered and pointed at the ground. Through the reflection of the mirror, you can see him glance around the room, looking at everything but you. “Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn’t. This could be dangerous, you can wait until we’re back home and—”

“And have someone else pierce my nipples? Yeah, Joel, I’m good on all that.” You pick the jewelry up, sterilize it again, and breathe slowly as you push it through. This part, while uncomfortable, is a world easier than the piercing itself.

You twist on the tiny diamond ball at the end of the barbell and admire your work. It’s perfectly straight, much to your surprise. And though it’s just a small change, it makes you feel as entrancing as the woman in the magazine. 

There’s no blood, which you take as a good sign. And as the seconds tick by the pain subsides and is replaced with a dull throbbing instead. It hurts, but it’s bearable. The only problem is that as you try to line up the second needle, your hands tremble too much to keep it straight.

Even though you try to take deep breaths, try to shake the tremors from your hand, nothing works. And you can’t just have one, can’t just leave this task unfinished, and so you gather your courage and turn fully towards him. “Joel? I need your help.”

You’ve never seen him quite like this, you think. There’s no flush to his face, no chagrin or hesitance or resistance. All of his morality seems to be replaced with a dark desire, a need unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. 

Immediately you know this is the Joel Miller he’s tried so hard to hide from you. Only glimpses of this terrifying man have slipped through the facade, each one smothered quickly by restraint.

Yet here he stands, hungry eyes swallowing you up, tracing the outline of the jewelry without remorse.

“I can’t…my hands are shaky. I need you to do the other one.” 

His hands twitch at his sides. And even though you now know he longs to touch you just as much as you want to touch him, his words tell an entirely different story. “I shouldn’t,” he says. “It’s not…it’s not right. Shouldn’t even be seein’ you like this. Too…too young. Too sweet.”

The southern accent in his voice is thicker now than you’ve ever heard it. Deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine. “Please, Mr. Miller.”

His eyes snap up to meet yours. He pins you with that intense stare of his and you suddenly can’t move, can’t breathe. Flickering flames gather low in your belly.

“I promise I won’t try anything. I’ll just stand here. I just need you to…to push the needle through. That’s all.” 

It takes him a second, but he nods. “Alright…alright. I, uhm…okay. Yeah.” He nears you slowly and you feel crowded. You can smell the salt and sweat of his skin, can feel that warmth even though he doesn’t yet touch you.

You pour the alcohol over his hands and hand him another packaged needle. “Here,” you say. “Just do it as straight as you can, and once the needle’s in I can do the rest.”

Joel peels apart the packaging and takes the needle between his fingers. He discards the plastic and you can hear each of his ragged breaths echo in your ears. Slowly, experimentally, he reaches out and presses his fingertips just below your ribcage and it makes you moan. 

He pulls away immediately as if he’d been burned by your skin. “You said you wouldn’t—”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Hold on.” You try again to catch your breath to no avail. “Let me close my eyes. I’m sorry.”

Joel nods, jaw feathering as he clenches his teeth. But you do as you say, closing your eyes and trying to convince yourself it’s not Joel touching you. It’s someone else. The same person who drew everything in that portfolio.

But when he does touch you again, his hands are warm and calloused and big and familiar. You know it’s Joel. Your Joel. The brooding man of few words. The too-good man who cares about you, who lets you sleep even though he never does, who gives you his water to guarantee you stay hydrated.

His hand moves upwards, palm pressed flat against your ribcage. It stops just below your breast as if he’s feeling the weight of it in his hand and you wonder if he can feel the hammering of your heart behind your sternum, too.

You don’t have time to think about it for long, though. Because his thumb slides across your nipple, hardening it into a peak, and all you can think about is the fact that he’s touching you. He’s touching you and you want more, want to feel him on every inch of your skin.

This time you’re able to hold back your moan, but only barely. It’s more like a whimper that gets caught in your throat instead. But he doesn’t pull away, and soon his other hand joins in. “Should I…uhm,” he clears his throat. “Should I count, or…?”

You shake your head. “No, no. Just…just do it. Please.” The words are desperate for a whole new reason. Your hands tremble even more at your sides.

The biting cold of the steel reaches you before you feel the pain. You try to breathe through it but the second one is somehow even worse and obscenities fall from your lips at the agony. It hurts so badly that you don’t even register as Joel slides the jewelry through and screws the diamond onto the barbell.

Ultimately, it’s his voice that cuts through the fog.

“Hey, hey. Shh. Hey, c’mon. Finished. Look at me, pretty girl. Open your eyes.” You do because that thick, southern drawl is more enticing than anything you’ve ever heard. You’d follow it anywhere, you think. Do anything it asks. “There you go. Atta girl.”

His words make your mouth water. You want to taste them. Joel’s hands are still on you, holding your hips, pressing into the exposed flesh. It’s all you can think about until he turns you away from him, forcing you to look into the mirror on the wall. “Oh my God.”

It surprises you a little just how much you love them. It makes you look powerful, like you are the one who belongs in a magazine.

“They’re perfect, Joel.”

“Did it hurt too bad?”

The question is so insane that it makes you laugh. “Are you kidding? It was awful. I don’t even know what to compare it to to try and explain it.”

He laughs too, a deep, throaty chuckle that brings a smile to your face. “Well, you have my sincere apologies, little lady.”

When you turn back to face him, you ask, “What do you think? Do they look good?”

You know you said you wouldn’t torture him, but the look on his face is so sweet that you can’t resist. “They’re real pretty,” he says. “They, uh…they suit you.”

“Think so?” You look up at him through your lashes, trying your damndest to look as desperate for him as you are. “Hurts a little,” you tell him, pressing your thumb gently over the center of your nipple, the one you’d pierced on your own. “Right here.”

He sees right through your false pretenses. You watch him swallow, watch his eyes darken. “Careful, little girl,” he warns, voice low and gravelly.

The name makes you squirm beneath his catastrophic gaze, thighs pressing together. He catches the movement—and you realize you want to be anything but careful with this terrifying, powerful man. Of course, you don’t heed his warning. “Might help if you kiss it better, you know.”

“S’that right?” You nod and a sinful smirk pulls at the corners of his full lips. He leans down and you can feel the scruff of his beard brushing the side of your face. Against your ear, he whispers, “You don’t know what you’re askin’ for, sweetheart.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know it, and yet you can’t fucking resist. You’ve never been able to resist him. “Then show me.”

And just like that, his resolve withers. The cord snaps and the good Joel you know vanishes into thin air, leaving nothing but this hungry, desperate man behind. He grabs your waist and hauls you up against him, legs wrapping around his hips on instinct.

Your chest presses against his but the pressure is bliss, fighting off both the ache in your breasts and the one between your legs. He swipes everything off the metal table in the corner. Alcohol and needles and portfolio all crashing to the floor. 

Joel sets you atop it and his mouth hovers an inch above yours, breath fanning across your cheeks. “Last chance, little girl,” he says.

He’s giving you an out, you realize. One last opportunity to escape him. You lean up and press your lips tenderly to his instead.

It’s answer enough for him.

Joel’s mouth moves greedily against yours. One hand rests against the small of your back, pressing you against him, and the other holds the nape of your neck. His tongue slips into your mouth. He tastes like honey and whiskey and sunlight. You could drown in it, you think. But Joel doesn’t linger for long. 

He trails open mouthed kisses down your neck, your chest—-and when he flicks his soft tongue across your nipple, your back arches and you forget how to breathe. 

“Joel,” you say, voice needy and desperate. “Touch me. Please touch me.”

His hands flex against your skin, still holding himself back. You don't understand—can’t he feel how much you want it? Can’t he see it on your face, in your eyes? “I want to,” he admits.

You grind your hips against his and the sensation of the bulge in his jeans against your center has you shaking. “What’s stopping you?”

A self-deprecating laugh bubbles out of his throat. He presses his forehead against yours, kisses the tip of your nose gently. “You make me crazy, pretty girl.” His hand comes around your throat, cradling your face. With the rough pad of his thumb, he traces the outline of your lips and says, “You make me feel like I’m eighteen again.” His hand travels lower, down your neck, knuckles dragging between your breasts. “Like I’m some little boy who gets a hard-on over a bra strap.” Lower, down your belly, between your ribs. “Or these fuckin’ shorts, baby.”

Everything aches for him. Every cell in your body has been lit aflame beneath his touch, longing to feel his hands, his tongue, to feel all of him. “Joel,” you say. “Please.”

He kisses a trail that follows the path of his hand, but this time he stalls at your breasts. “Sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg,” he mutters against your skin. And then he’s kissing and sucking and biting marks into the softness of your breast, leaving proof that he was here, evidence of his affection. “If I touch you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“I want you to,” you say. “ I think about it all the time.” Your head falls back, hips rolling against his, seeking out any sort of friction you can find. “God—I dream about it. I want you inside me.”

His eyes darken as he looks up at you. 

A man of few words. This time it’s him who reaches for the metallic button. He pops it open in one smooth movement, tongue lapping over the metal barbell through your nipple. You can feel each pass over the sensitive flesh down to your toes. 

He wriggles his hand into your shorts, deft fingers finding your clit easily. You let out a lewd moan at the commanding way he just takes —as if he’s right where he’s always supposed to be. Right where you want him, right where you’ve needed him for all these years. 

Joel kisses a path across your sternum, mouth giving the same tender care to the opposite breast. He slides his fingers through your wetness, gathering your slick and using it to circle your clit. “M’gonna take care of her, sweetheart,” he says. “Gonna make her feel real good, s’that alright with you?” 

His words are filthy and obscene and you love it. You’re nodding quickly and saying, “Yes,  Joel, yes.”

A cold shiver passes through you as he rises back to his full height, towering over you when he takes a step back. “Let’s get these off,” he says. Joel helps you shimmy both your shorts and your panties down your legs until you’re sitting there in front of him completely naked. He’s still completely dressed and it makes you feel small and minuscule beneath the weight of his predatory stare.

He places both hands on your thighs and pushes them apart, spreading you open. And then he drops to his knees and lazily strokes his fingers through your wet heat. You can feel the chill of his breath against your clit and your fingers find the outgrown tendrils of dark hair on instinct, trying to pull him closer, wiggling your hips to the very edge of the table.

“Needy girl, hm?” He laughs softly. It’s not malicious but rather adoring, and you wonder how it is that someone so strong and authoritative can make you feel powerful and cherished in the same breath. “S’okay. I’ve got ya.”

And then his tongue is on you and it feels like heaven. So much better than you’d ever imagined, ever dreamed. His scruff scratches at the inside of your thighs as he slides his tongue through your pussy. Joel groans against you like this is more for him, and the vibration of the sound pulls staccato moans from your mouth.

He slips two fingers into you easily, encountering no resistance. You’re too wet, too eager to have him inside you. You whimper his name as he sucks your clit into his mouth, hands pulling tight in his hair. It feels so good it’s almost too much—but he seems to know what you can take more than you do. 

Joel looks up at you from between your thighs and you can see the palpable hunger on his face. You think maybe he’s wanted this for longer than you, maybe he’s somehow been even more starved for this than you once thought.

You can feel your orgasm creep down your spine, inferno building and building, settling low in your belly. You try to tell him, to warn him—but then he hooks his fingers inside of you, pressing against that sweet spot and—

“Oh, God—God, fuck—Joel, I—!”

“S’alright, baby, go’head. Cum for me, oh—yeah, that’s it. There you go, sweetheart.” His voice is so gentle, a stark contrast to the assertive way he moves his hands, pulling from you everything your body can give. The southern accent is thick as he talks you through it. “Feels so much better now, huh? Y’look so fuckin’ pretty like this, baby. So pretty when you’re all full’a me.”

Your thighs tremble even as you begin to come down, trying to catch your breath, holding onto his arms to ground yourself as he stands back to his feet, thick cords of muscle sturdy beneath your shaking hands. And he’s right—it does feel better now, but as he eases his fingers out of you and you watch him lick them clean, your pussy clenches at the sight. It’s better, it is… but when it comes to good and moral Joel Miller you are insatiable.

A deep, rumbling groan reverberates in his chest when you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. Your slick stains the bulge in his jeans, darkening the denim material. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, big hands running slowly up and down your smooth thighs. “Shouldn’t be doin’ this…shouldn’t be takin’ advantage of you. Such a little thing, don’t know what you want.”

The answer comes quickly. “You, Joel. I want you.”

You reach for his belt and he watches your nimble fingers undo it, pulling the leather through the metal fastening. He hisses when you reach into his jeans and pull him out. 

He’s bigger than you thought, and wrapping your hand around him completely is a troubling task. You’re not sure he’ll even fit but it makes your mouth water, makes your swollen clit pulse with need. “Please.”

“I can’t, baby. Believe me, I want it, too, but I…you’re too good for me. Too—” He stops when you slide the head of his cock through your pussy, coating him in your slick. You watch the movement together and this time it’s Joel’s hands that shake. He curses under his breath, admiring the way he fits so perfectly. 

“Just a little?” Your own voice is hardly recognizable in your own ears, needy and deprived. You slide his cock back up towards your clit and it catches at your entrance. You both gasp in tandem. You love Joel and all his goodness but right now you want the worst of him. You want all of him. 

He nods and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Okay…okay,” he says to himself. “Just a little. You sure? You’re positive you want—?”

You line him up and shift your hips forward, words fading into nothingness. It’s just a little like you promised, but the stretch is so delicious you find yourself wanting more. More, always more—you think you could die without it.

Joel pushes in further, a little less than halfway, and then pulls out slowly. He groans and you feel like crying. His cock is covered in your wetness and when he pushes back in you think this just might be enough to make you cum a second time. 

It’s filthy and obscene and you love it. You love him. He reaches down and circles your clit with his thumb, fucking you slowly, eyes locked on the place you’re joined. “You’re so big,” you whimper.

You can feel the tension in his shoulders and you do your damnedest to smooth it out with small, massaging motions. He touches you just right but you want it to feel good for him, too.

That heat of an orgasm begins to build again. A low, incessant thrum between your hips.

“I have to,” he mutters so softly you hardly hear him the first time. “I have to, baby. I’ve gotta feel you. I’ve gotta…” And then he eases his cock into you to the hilt without any warning, filling you so full it hurts. The invasion stings but your body adjusts quickly, making room for him in the same way your heart has. His head falls to the crook of your neck and you can feel him shudder as he breathes the word fuck into your skin. 

“Oh my God—it’s too much, too much—!”

“You can take it, baby. C’mon, spread your legs wider. I know s’alot,” he praises, circling your clit a little faster now. Your slick drips down your thighs, into the dark hair between his hips. “You got it, sweetheart. See? There you go.”

He pulls out just to sink into you again. This time there’s less pain and more divinity and your nails dig into his shoulder through his flannel as you adjust to the size of him.

Joel uses his free hand to tilt your chin up, pressing his mouth to yours and kissing you deep. He sets an unrelenting pace, hips grinding against yours with each thrust. It’s so much and you’re so full of him in all the best ways. When you moan into his mouth you can feel his lips turn up at the corners, a predatory grin saved just for you. 

The sounds are filthy and echo in the room, an obscene symphony of devotion. You’d let him do anything right now—anything. 

He picks up the pace, hips snapping against yours. All you can think about is how right this feels, how you were made for him, how well he fits inside you.

A low grunt filters through his teeth and he says, “Fuck, baby. You look so pretty. How’s it feel? Tell me. Use your words.”

“S’good,” you whimper in response. Your brain is mush and your thighs become a vise around his waist, pulling him in impossibly deeper. “So good, Joel, don’t stop. Please don’t stop, I’m—I’m close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum again already, hm?” He pushes his palm against your belly, thumb still gently stroking your clit. And the pressure of it feels so intense you let out a whine of bliss. “Yeah, you are,” he whispers. “Can feel her squeezin’ me. S’alright, baby. Wanna feel it.” 

His words send you tumbling over the edge of bliss, and he fucks you through it. Stars blind your vision and your ears fill with static. But you can hear Joel though, can hear him and feel him deep inside you through it all. 

“Ohh, that’s it. Good fuckin’ girl. Pretty little thing’s just fuckin’ dripping all over me, feels so good. You feel so good.”

Before you even realize what’s happening, his rhythm falters. You can feel his cock pulse inside of you as Joel falls off the precipice. His head rolls back and the muscles in his forearms flex around the prominent veins. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, and you know you’ll never see anything as beautiful as this big, powerful man weak for you.

He’s panting when he slowly pulls out of you with a hiss. Sweat dots his hairline and that flush on his neck certainly seems like it’s staying for a little while longer. He’s beautiful, you think. Crafted by the hands of God himself, made with imperfect grace.

When he looks up at you he smiles in the way he always does, like the two of you share a secret. And maybe now you do. A sinful, dirty secret that’s all yours. You laugh softly and he mirrors the sound, helping you back to your feet. 

You hold his shoulders for balance as he helps you back into your shorts. And when he hands you your bra and t-shirt, you’re starkly reminded of the dull throb in your breasts and think better of it before putting them on. “I think they might be too tight. I’ll look around and see if I can…”

Before you finish the sentence, he’s unbuttoning his red flannel and tossing it to you. He wears a light brown tshirt underneath, the arms just a little too tight on his biceps. He looks so good that you want to take him between your legs again even with the sweet ache that lingers. “Here,” he says. “Take this.”

You do. He helps you with the buttons and it’s too big but gives your new body modifications room to breathe and heal. You ask him how it looks. 

“Better on you,” is his short response.

When you begin to fall asleep on the yellow leather couch later that night, all wrapped up in his arms, Joel presses his lips to your forehead and says, “When we get home, I wanna read that book of yours. Carrie, was it?”

You shift at his side, turning your head up to look at him. “You’re not gonna wait till October, like I said?”

Joel shakes his head. “You got any idea how old I am, girl? I’ve got no time for waitin’ till October.” He’s quiet for several seconds. And then his voice is nothing but a whisper as he says, “No time waitin’ on this to be right in the eyes of others, either.” 

And you can feel the heat behind his words, can almost hear the unspoken meaning. No time for waiting until you’re older, no time for waiting until the perfect moment. Your mouth pulls into a wide grin. “Are you asking to go steady with me, Mr. Miller?”

With a scoff, he runs his hand playfully down your face and shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he says. 

When he kisses you, you make a promise against his lips. “I’m yours, Joel.” 

He doesn’t say much in the way of a reply, your big man of few words. But he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

It’s more than enough.

[ducknotinarow]

📝Tony Stark

| Send 📝for head cannons and facts about my muse Most of these are in reference to him being with Steve I did also add stuff with Peggy though.

Tony grew up a big fan of Captain America, with his Dad having worked and known them Tony did get some stories about them that not many others did.

As Tony got older he did slightly start to resent the whole image and idea of Captain America

Not that is Steve's fault it was Tony connecting his issues with his father with Captain America.

Has a bit to do with how he got a bit more cynical as well, Tony often heard so much about how great Captain America was that it built his resent up to deciding fine i'll never be anything like him them.

Well also seeing it as he'll never be like them

Tony has a lot of reason for why he feels as he dose for his father. They were not very present in his life growing up either.

Tony has boxes of childhood memories of greeting cards given to him for his birthday. And well some may want to say least he remember they never had anything special written in them just was signed by him.

Howard never actually got the cards himself, he had an assistant do it and just give some off handed remark on what Tony liked. So many happen to have Captain America theme designs.

If Tony could go back in time he would kick Howard's ass

His relationship with his mother is far better, Maria was far more involved with Tony.

Well Howard could never bother to be around not even because work stuff came up his mother would poor on the excuses for his father

She tried her best to keep the family together and Tony was aware.She would get him gifts and claim one was from his dad.

For a bit that worked till he started to notice it was stuff he only ever told her he want. He once played a trick to figure it out.

It's why he loves her so much more and hold her to a standard his father could never reach.

When he did finally meet the great Captian America, he was an ass about it. Something inside Tony just needed to up show this guy his dad cared more for

It fuels a lot of the rivalry he has with Steve and kind of his general behavior at the start

After some time Tony did learn to separate the two because Captain America is a symbol, and not the one the whole world has just the personal one. Steve though? Steve is the great man Tony knows and wants to be even half as good as that.

If tony could he tell Howard he fucked his golden boy u-u no context or lead up

Tony dose admire and love Nina and Brook, but he can't be too soft on them Steve already is u_u

Tony enjoys Brooks general process and likely had used her for tests and such nothing like Hydra mind you but she is a good resource.

I like to think they spend time having chats when she cant sleep and hes working. Maybe nothing to deep but im sure she has heard some stories on his life time to time.

Despite Nina's chaotic energy Tony dose truly see her potential and often tries to get her to think with her head first when he works with her or goes on missions with her.

He's pretty aware of Nina's self worth issues and such when it comes to Steve and because he relates he tries to help with them.

He sees it in Brook too and would like to offer the same support. he knows how that Captian America shadow can hang over one.

Tony enjoys annoying Peggy hes like an actual child around her and can't help it

I like to think Peggy is the only one he gets a bit more personal with when it comes to Howard everyone else he blows it off with a joke with at best

Sometimes he likes to hear about how Howard was before he knew them but it dosen't help his issues

Peggy is a friend Tony turly needs because she dosen't give into his nonesense and shes someone he holds a lot of respect for so hes far more likely to listen to her sorry Steve

[pedrito-friskito]

the way we were / the way we are - chapter 10 - back in my body

summary: your life isn’t normal, but normalcy is underrated. more familiar faces, and a twist you don’t see coming.

warnings: a bit more heartache 😩

a/n: glazed over most of avengers and went almost straight to winter soldier but can u blame me? c’mon.

(series masterlist) (main masterlist) (ao3)

It’s even harder to get used to the brand new world when everything you see is a technicolor picture through a perfect lens. Steve doesn’t let up his visits and lists even when they have you moved to a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility upstate, wanting to monitor you more closely before letting you off on your own. Tony had no question you’d been fixed for good, but Fury wanted proof for himself.

“It’s just a precaution,” he’d declared at the meeting that was held after you were healthy enough to be released from the medical ward.

They hadn’t wanted to include you in the meeting at first, and a few eyes had looked your way when you followed Steve into the room. But Fury had just nodded his head when Steve had said sternly, “she stays.”

Tony had spoken up after Fury. “If it’s just a precaution, it needs a timeline. Y/N stays here under medical watch for the next month, then if she chooses, she can relocate to the Avengers Tower.”

“Deal,” Fury replied.

“I want it in writing,” Tony shot back, looking over and giving you a wink. “Air-tight, Nicholas.”

Fury rolled his eye.

Steve visits a few times a week, and each time, you cross another movie off your constantly growing list. You’ve got decades to get through. He also helps you figure out your phone – after the serum, you didn’t need the user guide, but social media was a mystery to you – and some nights, you play Scrabble. (Steve is shockingly good at the game, but he lets you win the first few times.)

After your first few days on the S.H.I.E.L.D facility, you’re introduced to Maria Hill, your handler. As part of Fury’s deal with Tony, Maria was assigned to essentially watch you day-to-day. You were given a schedule, certain blocks of time to do certain things for the first few days. Then, you could make it up as you pleased and had mostly free reign of the facility, but still needed to report back to Maria and tell her what you’d done each day. When you relocated, Fury wanted weekly updates for six months.

The first schedule they give you has a two hour block towards the end of the day that just says STEVE, and it makes you giggle.

While you’re at the facility, Tony visits on the weekend. He’s the only one you’ve told – besides Steve of course – about your ability to see the inner mechanics of things. He thinks it’s fascinating, and every time he visits, he brings a new piece of an Iron Man suit and other devices for you to decipher. Sometimes you can talk him into a game of Scrabble, and he kicks your ass every time.

You really like the internet. You read historical journals like it’s going out of style – Tony assure you it isn’t – and spend some time sifting through the few articles that have been written about Steve’s reappearance and subsequent participation in the battle of New York. People have mixed emotions regarding the Avengers, it would seem.

“Work on your combat skills with Rogers,” Tony tells you, “and I’ll consider making you an honorary Avenger.” He’s half-joking. You think.

Regardless, you listen to him. Steve’s visits become longer, and you spend more and more time in the training ring with him. He teaches you how to spar, grapple, hook, block, throw. The movements come easily, and you discover a decent amount of strength behind them. More than decent; you’re nearly as strong as Steve.

When your month is up at the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, you relocate to the Avengers Tower, as promised. Your schedule is mainly the same; a lot of reading, a lot of training. Only now, large portions of your day is spent in Tony’s lab. His designs are even more fascinating when you see the Iron Man suits in person, and Tony even allows you to deconstruct and rebuild one of his earlier marks.

At the Avengers Tower, you have even more free reign than you know what to do with. New York is still recovering, and Steve takes you on a tour of your old borough.

Barnes & Noble is twice the size as you remember it. Steve tells you are more than ten other locations in the city. It makes your heart, to know that the family business had only grown.

A different family lives in the house you grew up in now. The exterior of the house looks completely different than you remember; you only know it’s the right spot because of it’s place on the map. Something about standing there makes your knees shake, and Steve puts a steady arm around your shoulders, and whispers, “I know.”

You go for lunch most days, walk through Central Park, try as many different latte flavours you can. Steve brings a friend to lunch one day, and you have the pleasure of meeting Natasha Romanov, who seems a bit wary of you at first, but warms up to you by the time your meal is over. She offers to give you a few combat lessons of her own.

“Have you ever noticed that men never involve their legs in a fight?” she says to you. “They’re all about throwing punches. Granted, I’ve seen Steve flip a car with one hand, but even so. You’ve got the strength, and the acrobatics add flare.”

You stay in the Tower a few more months, watching New York clean itself up from the battle. Tony starts a few outreach programs and you volunteer for a while, happy to feel useful.

When Steve announces his plans to move to Washington, D.C., you’re quick to follow. You like your space at the Tower, but you feel the anxiousness in your stomach to see more. You’ve been asleep for seventy years, there’s so much to do. And the number of museums in the US capital makes you excited.

You sleep on Steve’s couch for a while, spend your days wandering the city. But the reprieve is short lived. When you hear about Tony’s mishap in Malibu, you’re quick to get on a plane. Actually, Tony sends his private jet to collect you. It’s a very different plane ride than what you’re used to, but being in the air still sets your teeth on edge.

You remember all too well what had happened the last time you were on a plane. When you decided to move from New York to Washington with Steve, you’d requested you drive instead of fly. Steve quickly agreed.

Tony is a mess. Every one of his suits is gone, and he’s a post-traumatic mess, freshly recovered from surgery to remove the arc reactor and shrapnel from his chest. “If you tell me to go to therapy, I might lose my mind,” he says as soon as you arrive at the penthouse. “You’d be the fifth person today.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you respond, lifting a shoulder. “You asked, I came. You wanna talk about it, I’ll listen. You saved my life, Tony. Whatever you need.”

What he needs, he decides, is to work. You set about helping him with a complete remodel of his suit. And working gets Tony talking. Which is good, you think. He seems a bit lighter the more he tells you. You don’t have much to offer in terms of advice, but he tells you that just listening is more than enough.

You share a bit about your nightmares. He seems to get it.

You meet Pepper for the first time, and instantly love her. She has a way of keeping Tony in line like no one you’d ever seen.

You love the sun and beaches down south, but when Steve sends you a picture of the upcoming Captain America exhibit opening at the Smithsonian, you’re back on the plane to Washington. Tony loans you his private jet once more. You’re a little less nervous this time around.

Steve wants to stay under the radar, and goes in undercover, but you’re able to enter freely. It’s not common knowledge that you were aboard the Valkyrie all those years ago, nor that you were frozen as long as Steve. Or that Tony had fixed you, and inadvertently unlocked complex powers within you. Or the original serum had. You weren’t quite sure, and neither was Tony. Regardless, your face isn’t recognizable compared to Captain America’s. You’re a walking secret.

The exhibit is bustling with people, and a narrator talks overhead. A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honour, bravery, and sacrifice.

Steve’s face is everywhere, images of him pre- and post-serum, along with his body measurements before and after.

Denied enlistment due to poor healthy, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American Warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super soldier.

Did that make you the second? Or the third? Was Bucky the second? Were there others?

Along the back wall, there’s a large platform holding mannequins all dressed in the uniforms of each Howling Commandos. The one in the centre dons Steve’s original uniform, the uniform you’d designed with Howard in 1943. The one to its right wears the heavy blue jacket you’d created to keep your husband safe. It hadn’t worked.

Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission, taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division.

There’s a painting on the wall behind the mannequins, Bucky’s face among them. Your eyes glance over it, but it still feels like a punch in the gut. You spin on your heel, only to come face to face to the portion of the exhibit dedicated to the late Bucky Barnes.

Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both the schoolyard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country.

There’s a video clip, playing on a loop on a screen. Bucky and Steve, standing side by side, laughing about something. You recognize the moment; you’d been standing off screen, making faces at your husband. Bucky couldn’t keep it together, and Steve was ribbing him for it.

You’re about to tumble to the floor when there’s a strong hand on your arm, keeping you upright. “C’mon.”

He takes you into a room with a row of seats and a projector. A familiar face is shown on the wall, being interviewed.

“That was a difficult winter,” Peggy says. She looks older, but still the same. Still as powerful as you remember. “A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve…” She pauses. “Captain Rogers, he fought his way through the HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months. He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would…who would become my husband as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life.”

Your jaw is nearly on the floor, and you turn to look at Steve, who is clutching his compass in his hand, looking down at the picture of Peggy Carter as you remember her, tucked inside the cover.

You put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

+

You’ve barely settled onto the couch back at Steve’s apartment when he starts pacing the living room, clearly antsy. You watch him from your spot, ready for him to start talking. You’re ready to listen. “I’m going out,” he announces after a moment, and disappears out the door without another word, leaving you alone in the apartment.

Your night is spent on the couch, an extra large pepperoni pizza from the joint around the corner on your lap and your latest Netflix binge on the TV. You were making quick work of the historical fiction section, and had run out of Game of Thronesepisodes to watch. You send Tony a few texts, just to check in, and he replies with emojis that take you way too long to decipher.

Steve returns home just after midnight. You’re still perched on the couch, pizza long finished and an open bottle of wine on the table. You can’t get drunk, Steve had told you, but you liked the taste. And you’d stocked Steve’s kitchen with a few of your favourites. He’s silent as he takes a seat on the couch beside you. Wordlessly, you hand him your wine glass. He takes a small sip and hands it back. “‘73?”

You glance at the bottle on the table, smirking. “‘74. Good guess though.”

“You okay?” he asks, slinging an arm across the back of the couch behind you. “I didn’t realize they’d have a display just for him. I would have warned you if I’d known.”

Your jaw ticks and you just nod. “It’s okay. It’s right, that people know who he was. What he did. What he sacrificed.” You swallow hard. “I still hear his screams in my sleep. It’s the one thing I can’t shut off.”

Steve’s fingers brush your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault,” you say, blinking hard, unsure where the words are coming from but letting them out anyway. “He never would have been on that train if I hadn’t…”

“It’s not your fault,” Steve says quickly, adjusting himself on the couch and turning his body towards you. You tuck your knees up under you, one hand over your mouth. “You were kidnapped. You didn’t know what Zola would do. You had no way of knowing.”

“If I had never gone to Italy with you,” you whisper out. “If I had just stayed-”

“Don’t do that,” Steve says, and his arm slips from the back of the couch and settles around your shoulders. He pulls you into his broad chest and you tuck your head beneath his chin. “We can’t know what could have been. We just have to deal with what is. But it’s not your fault.”

You’re silent for a long moment, the only sound in the apartment coming from the TV.

And then he speaks. “Y/N, I have to tell you something.”

You lift your head from his chest, pulling back so you can see his face. “What?”

“When I left,” he says, his gaze dropping, “earlier. I…I went to see Peggy.”

Your eyes go wide. “You…what? Peggy is still alive?”

He nods, his face dripping with sadness. “She is. But she…she has Alzheimer’s. Her memory comes and goes; I visit when I can.” A small smile tugs at his lips. “She’s always happy to see me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask.

Steve sighs. “You’d lost enough. We both had. And coming back to all of this, I just…” He shakes his head. “I should have told you. But she’s alive.”

“That’s why you wanted to come to Washington,” you say, and Steve just nods. “Because she’s here.”

“Yes,” he replies. “But when I saw her today, I told her about you. I told her everything. She was so happy. She wants to see you, if you-”

You nod, enthusiastic. “Yes. Oh my god, yes, of course I will.”

The next morning, Steve calls the home Peggy is in, sets up some time for you to visit in the evening. The two of you eat breakfast together, but the Steve disappears out the door shortly after, heading to the Triskelion – the giant rounded building that houses S.H.I.E.L.D.’s D.C. headquarters – to finish up some mission reports. You spend most of the day working on a design for Tony, using the gigantic, way too fancy tablet he’d gifted you before you’d returned to Washington. You leave after dinner, heading out of the apartment and locking the door behind you. Steve is still out.

You run into Steve’s neighbour in the hallway, a pretty blonde in teal-coloured scrubs. Steve had told you her name was Kate, and that they’d shared a few conversations since she’d moved in.

“Hi,” she says to you, extending a hand when you turn away from the now-locked door. “I’m Kate. Been meaning to introduce myself.”

“Y/N,” you reply, taking her hand and shaking it. “You live in the building?”

“Across the hall,” she says, pointing towards her own door.

You nod. “Steve isn’t home, if you’re looking for him.

“Oh.” She blushes, looking down at her shoes. “I wasn’t. But you’re…are you and Steve…?” She trails off, but the question is clear enough.

“Oh god, no,” you say quickly, but throw up a hand at her confused expression. “Steve is great, don’t get me wrong. He’s amazing, but he’s…” You’re faltering, searching for an excuse. “We’re just friends.”

“Ah,” she responds, giving you a smile. “That’s good to know.”

“I have to go,” you say, pointing towards the stairs, “but we should get a coffee or something sometime. I could use a girlfriend in the city.”

Kate grins at you. “Sounds like a plan.”

You smile back, give a little awkward wave, and then head down the steps.

+

Peggy’s face lights up as soon as you walk through the door.

Her nurse had gone in first, told her you were there. They wanted to gauge her reaction first before letting you in.

“Look at you,” she says as you step inside. Her hair is grey, still curled like it was back in 1945, and though her face has aged seventy years, you can still see the Agent Carter you remember. “You’re just as beautiful as I remember you. After all this time.”

“Hi, Peggy,” you reply, giving her a smile. You cross the room slowly, take the chair at her bedside. She reaches for your hand and you clasp both of yours around hers.

“When Steve told me,” she continues, eyes still wide, tracing over your face, “I almost didn’t believe him.”

“Somedays, I don’t quite believe it either,” you tell her, still smiling. “Things are so different.”

She chuckles. “And yet Steve Rogers has managed to stay exactly the same.”

“That he has,” you agree. “How did we get so lucky?”

Peggy laughs again. Something catches her eye across the room, and you turn your head, following her sight line to the collection of frames on the far wall. There’s all sorts of photos, taken over the years, Peggy’s life after the war, her husband and children. There’s a photo of Steve before the serum, taken at Camp Lehigh. And there, towards the bottom…

Your own face looks back at you. There’s five of you, all sitting around a table at a pub in London. You, Steve, Peggy, Howard, Bucky. Steve sits in the centre, Peggy and Howard to his left, and you Bucky to his right. Bucky has his arm around your waist, his face turned towards you. He’s grinning down at you. A moment after the picture was taken, he’d grabbed your chin and kissed you right there in the middle of the bar. You remember.

When you look back to Peggy, your heart breaks in your chest. The confusion is plain on her face. Steve had warned you; she comes and she goes.

“Y/N?” she whispers out, her voice shake. “Y/N, you’re alive?”

You squeeze her hand, give her a gentle smile. “Hi, Peggy.”

There are tears in her eyes. “It’s been so long. So, so long.”

“I know,” is all you manage to say in return, tears rising in your throat. “I know.”

+

The assassin disappears off the edge of the office building. Steve’s hands are tight around the edge of the shield. The force of the assassin’s throw had pushed him back a few feet. He just stares down at the shield in his grip. He takes a quick look around, then pulls out his phone, clicking on your contact.

Don’t trust anyone, Fury had told him.

You answer immediately. “Steve?”

“Where are you?”

“I just left Peggy. What is it?”

“You need to get out of Washington,” he tells you. You don’t protest, so he keeps talking. “Call Stark, tell him to get you out of here. I’m gonna send you an address. A friend. You go straight there. He’ll keep you safe until Stark can get to you.”

He hears you take a breath. “You’re not gonna tell me why, are you?”

Steve sighs. “Trust me when I tell you, it’s better if I don’t.”

—————

bucky barnes tags: @moonlarking @whosfrankie @ancientbeing10 @woomen23 @itwasthereaminuteago @williamjzanders @enchantingqueenkitten

[jasperwhitcock]

(Part 1/2) Maria (like Victoria, Caius, and other "antagonists") has always been one of my most disliked characters, but it was only recently that I saw posts saying she's Mexican so it's racist to dislike her. As ridiculous as it probably sounds, I didn't even recall that's she's actually Mexican, not just a vampire who's settled in Mexico. I just remembered her as a pretty white woman from the Eclipse movie.

mexican is not a race, so you can’t be “racist” towards mexicans, but you can be prejudiced towards mexicans (like...idk if you’ve ever heard of him, but trump?? great example of a prejudiced person against mexicans). latinx people can be of any race, ethnicity, or ancestry. depending on the person (like if they’re afrolatino), prejudice IS racism. the thing is, you can dislike maria without it automatically being prejudiced to dislike her. as long as, like you said, you dislike victoria, caius, and other characters who aren’t mexican for the same reason you dislike maria. the reason disliking maria becomes such a charged topic is because there have been and there are still people in the fandom who will praise someone like victoria and appreciate her vendetta, but then will bash maria because she “manipulated” their fave, jasper, a literal confederate soldier. at that point, it does become prejudiced to dislike maria. it’s also important to note that maria is a mexican character written by a white woman with little to no regard for any POC. we know this based on the racism integrated into the whole series (making jasper a confederate soldier, someone who supported, defended, and fought for the racist agenda of the south & was so eager to do so that he lied about his age to join early, the “perfect” characters in the saga being described as white with white backgrounds, her insistence on the cullens being casted as white people, only acquiescing to catherine hardwicke’s attempt for more diversity with some of the human students and specifically the villains like laurent, her treatment of the native characters in general which is so extensive like i can’t even just name it off easily/quickly in an ask. @vampireguarddogs has a great post where you can see a bunch of examples), so her account and characterization of maria is a little bit unreliable in that the fact she made a character who “manipulated” one of the cullens – the “good” guys in the series according to bella – mexican. that automatically imparts a negativity on her character because of how reading the books ur supposed to be biased towards liking the cullens. bella and the cullens are white, but this negative character is one of the only latin/hispanic characters in the series. (i know there’s like carmen & eleazar, but they’re pretty white washed). so we are supposed to accept that maria is just evil for her treatment of jasper when jasper again... is a confederate soldier. i understand that this series is super problematic which is why it’s complicated to like it or like most of the characters, but if we pick and choose what to like about certain characters, we can’t leave maria in the dust by choosing to stan edward or jasper or rosalie, but then being picky towards maria and what qualifies these characters to become “likable” again. like if we can acknowledge that rosalie was racist towards the pack (calling them “dogs”) but still admire her for being a badass, there’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to see why maria could also be a badass cool character. especially because if you look into her backstory, you see a woman that rises from pretty dire circumstances. she disobeyed the man who created her by choosing to independently create her own coven, her family and lover were destroyed leaving her alone, and she fought for her territory against the other southern vampires. (i may be a little off because it’s been forever since i read the twilight guide lol) i know @su-angelvicioso specifically is a big maria fan & she’s afrolatina so she can provide a lot more opinions on why maria is a cool character & can probably offer more insight on the overall question of your ask too!

anyways, i always understood & recognized maria in the movie (and books) as being mexican. in the books, she’s described as having a “slight olive tone to her pale skin, denoting a darker skin pigmentation in her human life.” which i mean that in itself is stupid and racist/prejudiced of smeyer to imply achieving physical perfection would bleach your skin of its pigment and melanin but. that’s not what this ask is about lmfao. the name maria is of latin origin (while this may not be exclusive, i think white people tend to have variations like mary and marie). it’s also a pretty stereotypical name to select for your only mexican character but i mean literally all of my tías’ first name is maria so imma keep my mouth shut on this one hehe. for real only my mom is not named maria bc to my abuelita they were like stop. enough is enough. u cannot name this child the same thing. she is claudia and claudia ONLY. she also does look like “not white” to me because of the features/colorings that are stereotypically considered latin/hispanic, but not all latinx or hispanic people have this coloring. the actress could be considered white passing since her skin is pretty light. also, the actress is colombian, not mexican.

ultimately, despite coloring and features that are considered stereotypically mexican/latin/hispanic, there actually are no traditional features that are indicative of a mexican/latin/hispanic person. there are white latinos, afrolatinos, indigenous latinos, etc. so there’s really no specific way to look at a person and be able to tell that they are latin or hispanic or not. (also not all hispanic/latin people overlap. latin includes brazil but excludes spain & hispanic includes spain but excludes brazil)

however, i will bring up the point that while a lot of latinx people can be considered “white passing,” it is important to note that with surgery and filler and tanning and trends, a lot of white people today are beginning to look more like POC. it’s not that non white people look like white people, it’s that white people are manipulating their appearance & looking like people of color.

[leeenuu]

I am living for you Dectective Anna hot takes!! Never stop!

your wish is my command, anon. so i give u some more ramblings xd

(this has spoilers from eps 33-36, so if u haven’t seen them yet, come back later, also if u want my thoughts abt the final, then just ask, this post is already too long)

(also i had written this b4 i watched the final)

anyways, imma start with viktor. vitya had the realisation that he made a big mistake with liza (a little too fckin late, i’ll say). and ofc pyotr (who was exhibiting some strong dumdum energy) had a gr8 idea how to fix the problem. y’know instead of just telling liza that they have no future together or something like that. then it turned out viktor was cheating on liza with maria. now i got to be honest with u, anon, during that scene a part of me was like “yes masha, get it!!” and the other part was like “nooo🔪🔪” and i think those feelings cancelled each other out bc mostly i was like 👁👄👁. i’m conflicted bc i rlly-rlly love them but i hate cheaters with a passion. i guess it’s safe to say that they are getting back together but at what cost?? this storyline was just so meh that it could’ve been left out and that is what bothers me the most.

but moving on to tregubov. at first, i didn’t focus too much on him and that widow bc i was focusing on some other things. but then... the man, out of uniform, went to see her and i knew something was up and i was so correct. it turned out they had an affair years ago. (side-note: if i would take a shot every time someone had an affair or is having an affair this season, i think i would pass out) but then the widow asked “kolya” to sit down and i lit said to myself “what’s next, does he also have an illegitimate son or smth??”. few minutes later, i fell out my chair, cackling, bc i was right. this show literally is a comedyyy.

now to the big bad krutin, it seemed like he was klyuev but i’m pretty sure now that it’s polina but i’m really hoping that i’m wrong. for me, she was suspicious right from the start but i rlly wanted anna to have a normal gal pal for once. sure, she could be hypnotised as well but i think krutin is gonna be someone we already have met and since klyuev is dead and skryabin has left zatonsk, the only one left is polina. or somehow it turns out it was actually nina who was behind all this but that’s a very-very small chance.

finally, i wanna talk abt the main dumdums. after crashing the wedding, yakov arrested anna and skryabin was like “see ya later, alligator”. and anna, obviously taking some time to think things through, decides that the solution is to marry klyuev. y'know it's like the ancient proverb: if u can't get married to one person, try another one. anyways, anna is still very pissed at yakov but they finally have a fucking conversation. and let me tell u anon, this was one of the high points of the season for me. if u don't know what they were saying then here's the transcript by the wonderful @anditendshowyoudexpect.

during that scene, i felt like my heart was stabbed with a flaming knife bc the acting, the acting killed me once again. dmitriy's voice, you can lit feel the emotion in his voice and it broke me. like that final scene in ep32, he killed me with the look in his eyes, now he's killing me with his voice. and i have decided to stan forever. also very important to note, they switched from You (вы) to you (ты) and then my soul left my body bc holy shit that is the thing that gets me every time. like u have characters that who are very polite with one another, therefore they use "You" but when they switch to just "you", it gets so personal and intimate and it makes me go *unintelligible babble*. when i heard it for the first time, i had to go back and listen to it a couple of times bc i love it when shows have that "switch". sadly, it happens very rarely to me bc english doesn't have that.

anyways, i'm now writing this from my grave. it has been nice knowing y'all. peace ✌🏻

[oyesmendes]

wildflower pt4 - calum hood

a/n: this is just gonna be snippets of their lives from now on. hopefully u like karla and calum as much as i do!

summary: after a nasty breakup, Karla Rivera finds herself working as one of the new producers/songwriter for 5SOS. She had no intention to fall in love right now, but one conversation struck a chord with her. In between producing a smashing album and writing hit singles, Karla finds herself entangled in the arms of a man who she never thought she’d end up with.

He stands in front of a white door, almost similar to the one at the beach house. He’s biting his bottom lip, feet bouncing as he waits in front of the door with a bouquet of dahlias - her favourite flowers, in his hand. He hears her boots hit the ground as she rushes to the door, having gotten home a few minutes before he arrived. The door swings open and hits the wall with all the excitement flowing through her and they both grin - so wide that they physically feel their cheeks hurt. Karla is in his arms before he could even comprehend and she was pulling him into her apartment by the neck. They kiss, deep and loving, sparks flying across the room. Calum doesn’t even remember the bouquet of flowers that he was holding, now pressed to her back as he holds her tight in his arms.

“I fucking missed you.”

“I fucking missed you too.” He peels her away from him, finally handing the flowers to her. She takes a whiff and then leaves it on the counter before smothering him in kisses. He basks in the attention, feeling every inch of her body mould in to his - like two perfect puzzle pieces. He then remembers the song he had waited the entire week to play to her, wanting nothing more than to see her reaction in person. He pushes her off suddenly and she’s taken aback, almost hitting her hip against the counter.

“Oh I have something to play for you!” Calum says almost too excitedly. Karla opens two beer bottles as he sets himself on the kitchen counter, pressing play on his phone.

She hears the intro with the beautiful harmony and her ears perk up, she raises her brow at Calum who had the proudest look on his face.

I hear you callin' out my name

I love the sound, I love the taste

And I can see it in your face

You've got a side you can't explain

Karla grins when she hears his voice, bopping along to the 80s style music. When they get to the chorus her face turns a bright shade of pink, knowing what the exact words mean. Sure Calum insists it was up for interpretation but anyone could tell it was about her.

“So I’m your wildflower huh?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Maybe…” She places herself in between his legs, and when Calum leans down for a kiss, she turns to her cheek just to get him riled up.

“Oh you seriously wanna be a tease, Rivera?”

“Try me, Hood!” Karla abandons her beer and bolts to her room, Calum following closely behind.

They somehow end up on the couch dressed in comfy clothes (Calum borrows her brothers sweats, though it was a little too short but he didn’t mind), with take out boxes strewn all over the table. It reminded them of the first night they met but better, now that they were alone with each other. There’s a romcom playing on TV but the pair couldn’t be bothered, their attention only on each other. He feels so attached to her, like she’s become apart of his life and then he starts to worry. The comfortable silence between them slowly turning uncomfortable as he’s left with his thoughts. He thinks about tour and how he’s going to be apart from her for long periods of time. Then he overthinks their relationship and how she would think of leaving him when things get rough. Calum doesn’t notice his hand dropping from her waist and his brows furrowing. But of course she does, she always has and always will. Karla knows about his habit of getting inside his own head too much, hell it happened twice already and they’ve only been together for less than a month. She’s patient, so patient that the rest of the boys think she’s a god sent when she spends almost two hours on the phone with him the second day she left the beach house, just to assure him that she would stay no matter what.

“You’re in there again.” She says, poking his forehead. It makes his face scrunch up and she giggles softly at him.

“I am” He admits it this time, knowing that she was right. Karla kisses his cheek and runs her fingers along his torso. She remembers how he said her touch brings him back to reality, reminds him that she’s still there. So she makes a deliberate effort to touch him, to have that physical connection. Calum closes his eyes and focuses on the contact of their skin, and he throws those thoughts out of his mind. He pecks the crown of her head and she knows he’s trying.

“Always gonna be here.” She reminds him, and he softly thanks the heavens above for creating a blessing like Karla Rivera.

-

“You nervous, petal?” Calum squeezes Karla’s hand as they make the short walk to Ashton’s place. It was the first time she was meeting the boys since the beach house, and this time with their girlfriends as well. From what Karla knows, the girls have known each other for years and are close as fuck. So to say she was nervous stepping into their group was the biggest understatement of the year. She gives Calum a tight lipped smile and nothing else, but he knows her, the anxiety was written on her forehead.

“The girls will love you, trust me. If the boys like you, I don’t see why their girlfriends wouldn’t.” They arrived at Ashton’s and let themselves through the gates. The rest of the couples had just arrived as well, all mingling with one another. When they notice Calum and Karla, all the boys cheered and clapped, teasing Calum as much as they could. Sierra was the first to approach Karla, offering her a big warm hug.

“You must be Karla!”

“And you must be Sierra.” She returns the hug, then proceeds to introduce herself to KayKay and Crystal. They were warm and inviting, and all four of them fell into conversation easily. The girls got to know Karla better, and even asks her to join them for girls night on Friday. They talk for what must have been three hours before all their boyfriends were beginning to get needy due to the lack of attention. Calum wraps his arm around her waist protectively, and traces her skin up and down while she was talking to KayKay about skin care or some topic he was totally disinterested in. She stops his hand from squeezing her side, which only sends KayKay into a fit of giggles.

“Calum Thomas Hood, I am trying to have a conversation here.” She scolds and he pouts at her, crossing his arms and sinking back into the couch.

They call it a night at around 1AM, and Calum was quick to pull his girl out the door. She shakes her head as he practically drags her behind him, until they’re out of sight from the house and he pulls her into his arms immediately.

“You’re such a needy boy huh?” She scratches the back of his neck as they both stand in each others arms in the middle of the street.

“I’m never bringing you out again. Only want your attention on me.”

-

Calum paces the room for the hundredth time, and Karla thinks the tiles on the floor are starting to thin out. He’s nervous and rightfully so, they were releasing wildflower today, along with the music video, and he also wants to tell the world about his girlfriend. Not that the fans didn’t already suspect anything, Karla was often pictured out with the boys, but more recently she was seen having lunch alone with Calum and that sent the fandom into a frenzy. They’ve managed to avoid the questions and rumours, but Calum wants to show his girl off to the world, and he feels that wildflower was the right chance.

“Babe, that tile on the ground is going to pop off if you keep pacing.” He pauses, looks at the floor underneath his feet and back at her before he sighs. Karla gets off the love seat and approaches Calum, cupping his face in her hands. She smooches him on the lips, making a faint smile appear on his face.

“All better?” He nods, then changes his mind quickly.

“But do you think-“

“No I’m not thinking.” She looks at him with sympathy, the worry lines prominent on his forehead, “Stop thinking, gorgeous. It’ll be fine, the song is amazing, and the video even better! You have nothing to worry about.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Karla questions, she’s making him a hot tea to calm his nerves.

“Are you not afraid of the hate?”

“Baby,” she hands him the pink mug which he accepts gratefully, “I’ve been pictured with more male artists in my life, speculations flying across the room like paper aeroplanes. My ex is Jonah Marias for goodness sake! I know what I’m getting myself into - a hot mess. But you’re worth every moment of it.”

Calum feels an overwhelming sense of relief from her words and he finally sits down with his tea. They wait for the release of the song, and soon the comments started rolling in after his post on Instagram.

@calumhood: This one’s for my wildflower. I hope you like it as much as I do xx

A picture of them from the beach house, the day after they announced their relationship to the boys. Calum’s face was pressed against hers, the smile on their faces couldn’t get any wider. Karla picks another picture, where Calum was grabbing her waist and threatening to throw her into the sea. She has Ashton to thank for catching such a moment. One last look at her caption, and she’s hitting post.

@karla_rivera: I guess I’m your favourite fantasy. Glad to be a part of this one, sweet pea <3

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

Whenever you can, can you write some Andrew bad mental health days angst with Nicky trying to help single-handedly? Maybe while the twins were living with him? With a hopeful ending of course. More importantly I wanted to ask if you’re alright? Your last post was worrying.

So I’m doing a lot better now. It’s just that sometimes I feel like my parents treat loving me like it’s a chore and neither of them really want to do it. They also just remind me all the time about how hard it is to love me and implying that my theoretical future husband would leave me over these flaws. I made the mistake once of implying that maybe I should have a wife instead and my mother looked ready to murder me. Which u literally see me project in almost exact words in this piece. Sorry. Anyway.. that’s how my efforts at coming out are going :)) It’s fine tho. I’m going to college in a year which is its own headache. 

Thanks again for your concern and your patience. I hope this is what you were looking for <3

A bone-deep sense of exhaustion had been weighing Nicky down for so long that he almost didn’t notice it anymore. Almost. Dragging himself into the backroom of Eden’s, he felt another wave of it crash over him. 

“Nick,” Roland called. His eyes were wide and his legs were trembling. His lips were swollen and bruised too. A smile curled the edges of Nicky’s lips. Before he could prod Roland about his disheveled appearance, Roland said four words that always sent every thought careening out the window. “Something’s wrong with Drew.”  Shoving him aside, Nicky raced down the hall. From the end of the corridor, he heard labored breathing. 

“Andrew,” he called as he nudged the door open. Nicky felt his stomach plummet at the sight of his cousin curled on the floor. Tears were welling in his eyes. “Hey, man,” he started. 

“Get. Out!” The words tore from Andrew’s throat, low and guttural. Fury was written into every crevice of his face. Nicky stumbled backward, falling onto his butt. The door slammed shut in his face. Crawling up to the door, Nicky lay his head up against it. From behind it, he heard Andrew’s breath coming in ragged gasps. “No. No. Please, no.” Nicky’s heart stuttered. When he’d first met Andrew, he’d made the mistake of saying please. He’d been rewarded with a none too gentle warning about using that word in Andrew’s presence. For Andrew to be saying it now…

“Andrew, let me in,” he begged. 

“No!” Andrew screamed. “Leave me alone.” Tears raced down Nicky’s face. His fingers ached for they’d been clutching tightly to the doorframe. 

“Let me help,” he whispered. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. A week ago, Nicky had been summoned by the school to pick Andrew up early after a similar episode. According to Aaron, it had happened a few times when they’d lived with Tilda too. However, they’d been occurring more frequently since the twins had moved in. Was it something Nicky had done? Had he hurt Andrew? 

Nicky didn’t know how long he sat there, begging softly for Andrew to let him in before the door finally creaked open. Andrew stepped out, dry-eyed. His blank facade had resettled over his face but his eyes were red and puffy. 

“Water,” he croaked. Nicky scrambled to his feet and checked a few of the back rooms until he found some bottled water. Offering it to his cousin, he chewed on the inside of his cheek as Andrew down the whole thing in one go. 

“Andrew,” he pleaded once more. 

“Home,” Andrew ordered. Nicky’s shouldered sagged but he obeyed. Shuffling down the hall, he did his best not to look back at Andrew. He gathered up his jacket from the front before grabbing Aaron. As they walked to the car, Nicky felt a cool breeze blow past. From the corner of his eye, he caught Andrew shivering. Shedding his coat, he waited for Andrew to pass him before throwing it around his shoulders. “I don’t need your shitty jacket,” Andrew snarled. 

“Whoops. Guess you're so small I mistook you for a coat rack.” 

“You’ve got three seconds to start running, Hemmick.” Nicky was running before the words were out of Andrew’s mouth. It was less than three seconds before Nicky heard Andrew’s footsteps pounding the asphalt behind him. 

“That’s cheating,” he cried. “Doesn’t matter, though. My legs are longer anyway.” 

“They won’t be after I break them,” Andrew gasped between breaths. Nicky should have known better than to rile Andrew up. While Nicky was the faster of the two, Andrew had incredible endurance. He didn’t have to outrun Nicky. He just had to wait for Nicky to run out of steam. Hooking a left, Nicky headed for the park. Vaulting over the chain-link barrier, Nicky risked a glance back. Andrew had banked to the right and was now running around the perimeter of the barrier. 

Looking back was a mistake. Nicky tripped over the playground border that. Falling face-first into the mulch, he felt several pieces of it embed themselves into his flesh. 

“Not so fast now, fucker,” Andrew said. For the first time, Nicky saw a smile tug at the edges of Andrew’s smile. It was a sharp, cruel thing but a smile nonetheless. As Andrew’s eyes roved over Nicky’s face, he saw the smile slip away. “You idiot,” he muttered as he grabbed Nicky’s sleeve. Too dumbfounded by the fact that Andrew was touching him, Nicky didn’t protest to being dragged across the park. He still couldn’t find his voice as Andrew shoved him onto a swing and rolled up the sleeves of the coat. 

A first aid kit appeared in Andrew’s hands. Producing a pair of tweezers and antiseptic, Andrew set about picking the mulch from Nicky’s face. All the while, Nicky whined about how much it hurt. It didn’t hurt. He just needed something to fill the silence. Plastering a bandaid over the final cut, Andrew stepped back to inspect his work. 

“I thought you didn’t need my shitty coat,” Nicky said. Andrew looked down as though he were just noticing what he was wearing. With a scowl he shucked it off and threw it in Nicky’s face. Andrew sat down on the swing beside Nicky. For the first time in a while, his legs were long enough to touch the ground. “Hey,” Nicky started. Andrew groaned as though the conversation was already too long. “I know you don’t want to talk but I need to know what I can do to make this easier for you.” 

Silence settled over the pair of them. Just as Nicky was about to give up Andrew answered. “I just need space.” 

“I’ve given you all the space I’ve got. I gave you a room. I gave you the keys to the car. I let you come and go as you please. I know you didn’t ask me to come here. You didn’t ask me to stay but I’m always going to be here. No one else really wants me anyway.” A sad smile settled over Nicky’s face. It was true.

Every person has their own love language. Nicky’s was touch. Growing up, Nicky’s parents hadn’t understood that. No, they’d chosen not to. Loving their child was their duty as parents, nothing more. Luther and Maria treated loving Nicky like a chore, never failing to point out how his every flaw would prohibit him from finding a respectable wife. Well, then maybe he didn’t need a wife. Maybe he needed a husband. 

Telling his parents as much resulted in them pulling away entirely. Any semblance of love that they’d shown him was now gone. Where Maria woke early to make Nicky’s favorite breakfast, he’d begun coming downstairs to a table set for two. Where Luther brought home little things that he’d thought Nicky may have enjoyed, Nicky watched as his father actively shifted his gift-giving to Maria. It knocked Nicky’s self-confidence to a low he’d never thought possible. Suicide was something Nicky had never understood. Why would anyone want to die? Well, what point was there in living if you had no one to live for? 

For as long as Nicky could remember he’d spent his life trying to please his parents. The most he’d ever gotten was a five-second hug for winning a national art contest. Shut out by the only people that had ever meant anything to him, Nicky had spiraled into depression. If it hadn’t been for Dr. Krauss’s push to send him to Germany, Nicky might not be alive today. 

In Germany, Nicky had found love. Not just in Erik but Erik’s family loved him. Erik’s friends loved him. They breathe life back into Nicky and offered him a place to stay. And he’d wanted it. Going back to America, Nicky had been okay with facing his parents’ disappointment because he’d known that it didn’t matter. Soon he’d leave Columbia and he’d never look back. Everything was finally going to be okay. And then, Nicky’s world turned itself on its head. Learning about the twins had brought all of Nicky’s plans to a grinding halt. 

Nicky knew what living with Luther was like. There was no way he was going to force Aaron and Andrew to brave all of that alone. Germany meant so much to Nicky because he’d been greeted with open arms. The Klose's didn’t love one single aspect of Nicky. They loved him as a whole and Nicky hadn’t had to fight for an ounce of their affection. 

The twins were broken and battered and bruised, just as Nicky had been. Luther and Maria weren’t going to welcome them into their home with open arms. Nicky doubted anyone would. There wasn’t anything that Nicky had learned from his father that he’d truly taken to heart, save one: there’s always someone that needs saving. Sure, Luther had meant converting people to Christianity but, from the moment Nicky lay his eyes upon the twins, he knew that no one in the world needed saving more than them. 

Nicky didn’t know how to fix them (or even if they could be fixed at all) but he’d take care of them until he found someone that could. He didn’t know how long it would take for them to each find their own Germany, but he was more than willing to stick around until they did. 

“I do,” Andrew said. Nicky looked up to find Andrew’s eyes already on him. 

“You what?” Nicky’s voice broke halfway. 

“I want you to stay.”

[thefudge]

thoughts on elite season 2

- idk why but i found this season more engaging than the first which i only watched fragments of because i couldn’t be arsed to care about certain plotlines, but season 2 made me care about almost everyone? well, almost. but it was far more compelling anyway. 

-lucrecia/lu is turning out to be a Problematic Fave. she’s probably one of the more complex characters on the show. despite how wretched she can be,  i like how deeply she wants to be “seen” and understood and i def felt bad for her about guzman (oh, and we’ll get to him, ugh). her back and forth with valerio was both compelling and a little frustrating (valerio himself was both compelling and frustrating). i don’t think the writers put that much thought into it, but i liked the undercurrent of sadness in their bond which was far more interesting than the forbidden aspect (but yea ok, that was also hot, yall know me lol). the actors sold it pretty well. and that oscar wilde quote <3 incidentally, valerio reminds me of a romanian actor/singer who also starred in an incest-based drama awhile back.  but i have to say, one thing that really jumped out at me is how much of a secret gay lucrecia is. she has so much gay energy with almost every girl she comes up against, rebeca and nadia especially, it’s insane. every time she interacts with one of the dudes it’s so weak (except with valerio, but that dynamic is not so straightforward). whenever i see her sexy-whispering to some guy it feels like she’s faking it, like she’s being a vindictive but ultimately domesticated doll. and i think she knows this too and the performance wears her down. whereas she seems to come alive with women. her obsession with being betrayed and ignored and unloved by men might also stem from the fact that no man can ever give her what she truly wants. she’s def closeted imo, and her lil friendship with omar makes so much sense in that context too. petition to give lu a gilfriend in season 3, preferably rebeca.  

- rebeca, however, is the true MVP of the season for me. omg. i love!!! her!!! so!!! much!!!  i was SO MAD everyone slept on this grl!!! she’s funny and smart and brash and loyal and sweet and justasdfgdfsda NO ONE DESERVES HER. i also think her chemistry with lu should be explored further. (i wanna write fic where rebeca and lu make out at the halloween party after lu gets dumped)

- polo is also a Problematic Fave, even though i hope he goes down lol. i really like how the actor plays him as both volatile and fragile, like a stubborn asshole but also a sniveling brat who wants to be “redeemed” on his own terms. 

- i  can’t say i cared all that much about cayetana and her “maria del bario” subplot, i mean i didn’t feel all that sorry for her, but i do like the sharp edges given to her character. and while polo/cayetana is not that interesting to me, their bonnie and clyde shenanigans promise to be a lot of fun. it makes a lot of sense that she would be the one to help him, not only because of his kindness to her, but primarily because she likes taking things. literally. she seems desperately hungry for whatever polo can offer. 

-  omar/ander was sweet as always, and i liked their ups and downs and their more emotional moments, but good god was ander a petty asshole. when omar dressed up as dr. frank-n-furter and ander was being a tool about it and the others were shaming him for, u know, having a cool costume for halloween, i was like “omar, bby, you gotta stop hanging out with uncultured swine”. that being said, ander keeping polo’s secret for so long beggared belief. i understand the impossible scenario he was in and i like that they showed the inner turmoil but...yikes, it’s murder, dude.

- samuel/carla was...fine. i liked some of their more intense scenes, feeding off each other’s anger, plus the manipulations and the mindfuckery, but it was still lacking in substance for me. i also think carla becomes less interesting around him, whereas samuel has sort of grown up this season. idk, i’m ambivalent. 

and finally...

- nadia & guzman. SIGHHHHhhhhhhhhh. the couple & characters i was most looking forward to ended up being the most disappointing part of this season for me. i kind of hate them now. okay, maybe not hate them, but i am deeply annoyed. i think nadia was poorly written this season. i have no clue who this girl is, what she really wants, what she believes in. she was made to react in a certain way or do things just to carry the plot forward or to give the viewers some steamy scenes. literally, i was so frustrated with her and the lack of internal logic. even her confession to her parents at the end and their heartfelt hug felt hollow and unearned. and guzman, oh gaaaawwwwd, this douchebag and his constant edgy angst, i get iiiiiit, we get iiiiit, i just wanted him to be dooone. i really disliked him, even when they were framing him as troubled romantic hero. the nadia/guzman scenes were absolutely rushed, i’m sorry. their first kiss??? while nadia was super drunk and we get that weird disco editing that hides both their faces and it’s so fake-artsy and devoid of feeling and underwhelming??? NOPE. i thought this would be a big deal for nadia, for both of them actually, but when i saw how quickly they rushed into it i was disappointed. most of their interactions lacked that special intimacy they had in season 1. like yeah, the chemistry was there, but the angst felt manufactured, cuz i guess both he and nadia have no problem cheating and doing whatever the hell they want.  i also found it laughable that not even 15 minutes into the first episode guzman immediately tells her about the deal he made with her father...which cheapened the whole thing. i really thought that deal would carry weight and mean something....welp, guess not. all the interesting and significant obstacles they built around these characters were now revealed as a deck of playing cards. when halfway thru the season guzman lamented how he couldn’t be with nadia due to societal constraints i laughed out loud because clearly, that’s a surface problem for them. nadia does not seem at all attached to her faith and culture, so really, what’s to stop them from being together? her family? i don’t buy it. and my problem isn’t that nadia wants to break away from her muslim heritage and be with guzman; my problem is that we don’t know what the hell she wants and it doesn’t seem to matter. once upon a time i thought she cared a lot about her schoolwork and future career...but that seems to take a backseat for the guzman drama. halfway thru the season she doesn’t hang out with rebeca and omar anymore, and it’s just...disheartening to see her be all about this really mediocre dude. not even her budding friendship with valerio goes anywhere, which was a shame. others have talked about the troubling narrative of “westernizing” nadia and portraying it as the solution to her problems and while i think the show isn’t ready to push that agenda, i also feel like they have no fucking clue who this character is. anyway, i will stop here, but i’m genuinely disappointed and idk if this can be remedied in season 3. 

so overall, i enjoyed this season more, but boyyy did it disappoint where i was most expectant 

[shewolfofficial]

Heyyooo!! First of all, i loveee your writings! They are so well written, i almost cried ^o^ hehe, soo how about ,, reader and levi being friends and everyone shipping them together ( mostly hanji shipping them lol ) and in the end there is a cute and fluffy confession? *W* ♡♡

fluff is my weak spot lmao

F/C - Fur Color

Warning: Cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Humming quietly you walked alongside Levi, the 57th Expedition had just recently ended and you’ve never seen so much death. Turns out the female titan is a titan shifter, Levi had gotten injured whilst saving Eren resulting in him being kept off duty.

Glimpsing outside the window towards the bright blue sky the light from the sun illuminated your face with every window you strolled by. Two small birds caught your gaze as you flicked it towards them, two sparrows. Watching the two sparrows disappear into a large oak tree you smiled gently out towards it. ‘’What are you smiling at?’’ Levi asked from beside you, switching your head towards him you shrugged. ‘’Just looking at a pair of sparrows… When we retake Wall Maria do you think we would find more types of birds and animals?’’ you ask clasping your hands behind your back, shyly looking to the stone floor beneath you as you walked. 

 ‘’I don’t know, probably, why are you so interested in animals?’’ Levi asked, puzzled as he looked over your features. ‘’Well, some are cute and fluffy like little bunnies! Then there are massive ones like bears that also look cuddly!’’ you snicker as Levi clicks his tongue ‘’you are never going to cuddle a bear, do you know how dangerous they are?’’ he raises an eyebrow as you nod your head excitedly. ‘’But I could train it from a cub! Then it would be friendly to people and I could bring it on expeditions and do much more with it!’’ you exclaim as Levi returns his gaze ahead of him. ‘’You’re like Hanji except your crazy about animals’’ Levi muttered crossing his arms over his chest as his black coat hung from his shoulders.

‘‘Y/NNN~!’‘

Spinning around you grinned as Hanji ran into you, enveloping you in a hug. ‘’It’s been a while! I haven’t seen you since the expedition! I see you’re still with Levi~’’ she cooed raising her index finger to poke you in the cheek with a wide grin. Swatting her hand away you sighed ‘’I haven’t seen you in nearly two weeks and the first thing you say is that I’m with Levi’’ you scold playfully as she pouts, slinging an arm over Levi’s shoulder he gave her an unimpressed look. ‘’But you two would be mistaken for a couple! Then again who says you two aren’t dating in secret?’’ she gasped at the thought as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

‘‘We’re not going out Hanji, take your fantasies somewhere else’‘ Levi commented as she sent him a wink. Taking off her arm from around him she stepped back a little, a sad expression evident on her face as she pouted out through the window. ‘‘Oh well.. It seems like you two need some time alone… Y/n I was going to ask you to mind a bunch of rabbits I found earlier but it seems like you’re busy with shorty..’‘ She sighed as you went wide-eyed, smiling widely at her you took her by the shoulders and shook her back and forth. 

‘‘Hanji! Where are the rabbits!? I can bring Levi and we can babysit! Where are they!?’‘ you nearly screeched due to being so excited as she chuckled taking a glance to the raven-haired man who was watching you two in concern. ‘‘Y/N I don’t want to be around those filthy creatures-’‘ Levi attempted but was silenced by the murderous look you shot him over your shoulder. Tittering Hanji took your hands off her shoulders and smirked deviously to Levi ‘‘Awe come on shorty! It’ll pass a bit of time, and they don’t shed hairs so you won’t get dirty from them’‘ Hanji tried.

‘‘Fine four eyes..’‘

// Time Skip \

Dragging Levi along by the hand you didn’t recognize the tint of red covering his cheeks as you dragged him past people to the destination where Hanji told you to go. Excitedly arriving, the place she told you about was situated on a small hill near the HQ, a large tree looming over a little pen that had a small gate on the side of it. Squealing with joy you let go of Levi’s hand and darted ahead eager to meet the rabbits a.k.a your children. Arriving at the pen you smiled widely, leaning over it there were nearly ten different rabbits hopping about minding their own business. 

‘‘Y/N calm down would you?’‘ Levi says walking up next to you. Turning to him you flashed him a childish smile before going in the pen followed by Levi. ‘‘Hello my babies! Momma’s home!’‘ you told the tiny animals you stared at you in confusion. Plopping down on the ground, legs crossed you looked over the rabbits as they went around Levi stood behind you leaning back against the fence watching you. 

‘‘Levi they look so fluffy… Where did Hanji get them? Awe so cute..’‘ you cooed spotting a black rabbit with a white chest sitting in the corner by itself making you pout sadly. ‘‘Awe… The little fella is by himself.. Come here sweetie!’‘ you scooted over to it and picked it up gently, going back to Levi you sat back down beside him petting the rabbit.

‘‘Don’t tell me you’ve gotten attached to one already Y/N’‘ Levi grumbled looking down to the black and white rabbit. Flicking your head up to him you held up the rabbit to him ‘‘he looked lonely! So I’m staying with him… Cute little guy.. Aren’t you?’‘ you began to coo down at the rabbit again as Levi clicked his tongue, cautiously sitting down next to you he watched you pet it. Outstretching a hand he scratched it behind its ears earning a smile from you, the furball turned around on your lap to get comfortable before moving onto Levi’s lap.

‘‘He seems to like you- Oh my god you two are so alike!’’ you giggle flickering your gaze between Levi and the rabbit. ‘‘Are you calling me an animal?’‘ Levi questioned, shaking your head you pointed to the white cravat he wore then to the white chest of the rabbit. ‘‘He’s a rabbit version of you, the black fur he has is the black suit you’re wearing now and the white chest is your cravat! That’s it I’m naming him Levi as well’‘ you smiled as Levi pet the rabbit nodding sightly.

‘‘Alright then… Why don’t you go name other furballs after Scouts?’‘ Levi suggested making you perk up and crawl over to the other little rabbits leaving him with the one you named after him. Eventually arriving back to him with a light brown colored giddy one and an F/C one who snuggled up to your chest, kneeling in front of the ebony-haired man you smiled down at the two animals. ‘’I found Hanji and me’’ you show Levi the two females as the one you named Hanji jumps out of your arms, obviously wanting to play with the one on Levi’s lap who ignored her completely. The F/C one sat up slightly looking over to the mini Levi in curiosity, sitting next to Levi you rest your head back against the fence as the F/C furball shifted in your lap facing the mini Levi who stared at her.

‘‘She’s just like me.. I’m naming her Y/N, and he’s just like you, so he’s Levi’‘ you snicker as Levi rolls his eyes at your childish humor. ‘‘Y/N’s cute isn’t she?’‘ Levi mumbled petting the mini you on the head as a pink dusted his cheeks ‘‘I-I mean t-the rabbit… U-Uhm..’‘ he stuttered as you chuckled ‘‘yeah, and he’s a handsome little fella’‘ you tease as Levi bites his lower lip looking down to the mini-him on his lap that stared at the F/C one. 

Resting your head on Levi’s shoulder you shift your gaze towards the sun which was about to start disappearing over the hills. Feeling mini you move around on your lap again you looked down to her, watching her rest in between your and Levi’s legs soon joined by the black and white furball that snuggled up against her. 

Feeling something soft press against your cheek you turned to Levi who looked back to you, a flustered smile covered your lips as you pecked his lips. ‘’Fuck it I don’t care if you’re obsessed with animals..’’ Levi muttered making you confused. ‘’Huh-?’’ you were cut off when Levi pressed his lips against your own, his scent filling your nose which made you feel like you were being lulled to sleep by such an intoxicating cologne. Not hesitating to return it you gingerly placed a hand underneath his jawbone as the kiss deepened. Soon pulling away you bit your lower lip looking down to your lap in a flustered state. ‘’S-So want to go out sometime?’’ Levi stammered, turning to him you smiled and nodded causing him to smile softly.

[cncobby]

What musical you take them to see/watch together

JOEL: Rent

As avid theatre nerds you both regularly go see shows as often as you can

Anytime he has a few days off you try to see whatever show is being performed

He got you guys both season tickets for Christmas so even when he’s not there you can go see shows<3

Your all time fave to watch together is rent tho

Casual date nights where you guys stay in and watch movies?

Half the time you guys choose to watch rent

Misfits in New York during the aids epidemic?? Yes

When you guys are driving theres a 99% chance you both jam out to la vie boheme and out tonight

Duets to take me or leave me<33

“Babe I could be roger right”

“I hate to break it to you baby but you’re not the tormented rocker type”

“But you could be my mimi<3”

“…I’ll pass”

tears up everytime angel dies but then pretends he doesn’t

Bonus: face timing and watching bootlegs of new shows together since you’re both impatient

RICHARD: In The Heights

you totally forgot this show existed for awhile 

when it randomly came on your broadway playlist you were like

“ohmygod YES”

we know he’s a music buff and loves all music he just never got the urge to listen to broadway songs

 so you’re like “heh im gonna surprise him so hard”

 its date night 

and usually he’s the one who likes to plan them and surprise you since he doesnt get to see you that often but this time the tables have turned

 he see’s you getting ready and is like why are u dressed so fancy???

ur just like shush go get changed into the outfit I laid out for you

And since he’s whipped for u he does it without question obviously

When u guys arrive at the theatre he’s a bit skeptical bc he’s not much of a broadway man

But when the first song he comes on and he hears:

“I emigrated from the single greatest little place in the Caribbean: Dominican Republic!”

His eyes get SO WIDE and baby gets so excited

he turns to u and is like !!!!

And you just smooch in response as to say 

“yes I know baby thats why I took you here”

He LOVES the show

is laughing the entire show at all the cultural references and jokes

Afterwards he plants the biggest kiss on your lips

“Thank you for taking me here amor, I loved it”

You guys play the soundtrack on the way home

He’s literally obsessed

Plays the soundtrack when he’s cleaning the house

when he goes back on tour the boys send you snapchats of him shaking his booty to Carnaval de barrio

Joel: “I love this show but what have you DONE HE WONT LET US LISTEN TO ANYTHING ELSE”

ERICK: Lion King

probably not the biggest theatre fan??

but he knows that you’re a fan so baby boy tries to keep up with you whenever you go on rants about it

Gets you tickets to lion king for your birthday

Had to ask Joel what show to pick since he was an ex theatre kid

Joel was like … better pick one thats super well known

Surprisingly likes it more than he thought he would??

His favorite part is watching your face throughout the show though

Getting a smile whenever your eyes widened in excitement

Or you danced in your seat to the music

(You didn’t have the heart to tell him you’ve seen this four times but)

(its fine who gets tired of lion king?? No one)

kinda zones out but still appreciates all the vocals and theatricality of it!!

Honestly he’s there to make his princess happy and by your squealing afterwards he figures its a success

you end up showing him other shows and playing your broadway playlist for him

ends u liking the heather’s soundtrack out of all of them??

you’re like noted i’ll see if there are tickets

(he most def doesn’t realize its about teenage murder but hey the songs slap)

ZABDIEL: Hamilton

honestly the perfect show to take him to

Written and performed by a fellow Puerto Rican??? Yes

(We’re gonna pretend its original cast bc I love them ok)

Also we know he loves beatboxing and rapping and both those things are v prevalent in this show

He’d read lin’s little bio thing in the playbill and be like OMG BABE HE’S Puerto Rican TOO

You’d prob have to explain certain parts of it bc American history is so fucking confusing

Also why is Lafayette also Thomas Jefferson???

Why is Peggy also Maria Reynolds??

Guns and ships … so fast and baby finds it hard to keep up but is like entranced

LOVES THE SCHUYLER SISTERS

After the show you find him humming the song

(I mean we know he loves women in charge … throwback to that one video … if u know u know)

When he’s back on tour he sends you videos of him jamming to the soundtrack

Bonus: he sends you a vid of him Joel and erick reenacting Schuyler sisters

Also bonus: you show him the Hamilton mixtape afterwords and he’s literally OBSSESED

CHRISTOPHER: Wicked

You wanted to take your baby to a CLASSIC since he doesn’t keep up with broadway

Plus it was endearing having him try and keep up with you babbling about it

He kept whining that you couldn’t play broadway when he was there bc he wanted to sing along too but he didn’t know any of the words

So you were like fine I’m taking us to watch a show

You have to keep shushing him throughout the show bc he gets too excited

“Ohmygod”

“woOOW”

During elphaba’s last note in no good deed he literally GASPS SO LOUDLY

*smacking his arm*

*whisper yelling*

“Christopher shut UP”

He’s not a soft boy at all but even he tears up at for good

Literally nuts at the vocals

After the musical he’s like in shock at how good the vocals were

you find him practicing fiyero’s parts in the next few days

(This was ur master plan bc Christopher as fiyero?? Ur dream)

buying matching wicked merch!!!

[haloud]

episode 8 rewatch thoughts

yes im doing this because alex manes is a legend

holy shit isobel’s opening monologue in this episode is chock-full of meaning

“safety is so easy to take for granted. especially when you grow up loved.” as a picture of young max with a trophy transforms into michael’s mugshot

jesse has max’s house under full-on surveillance. hope someone did something about those cameras or else there’s going to be footage of noah and of michael throwing max out the window

“safety is a feeling you only value once it’s been stripped from you ... or worse, when the thing that makes you unsafe isn’t an invader at all.” isobel :(

lmao i cant even watch the scenes with mrs evans 

kyle bought liz a cactus! get you a man tbh

also fast forwarding through the noah scenes >:’(

jesse talking about “it’s not safe” and “for your own good you need to leave” shut the fuck up u bitch eat crutch

ok so like im not sure how we’re supposed to interpret some stuff like how much is isobel and how much was noah all along but it’s kind of super fucked up that isobel almost made kyle a murderer

i love a sassy guerin

“according to my mom, you were a little terror drawing [the symbol] all over the walls at the group home” maxwell you are on thin fucking ice with me rn

tho i do like that max recognizes that he’s forcing normalcy so goddamn hard someday it might just be true. love 2 b self-aware

i’ve talked shit about michael’s psychic connection coming and going with no indication why, but maybe this time it wasn’t actually psychic? like, if max and isobel are biologically related, maybe their electrical signals are the same and that’s why only max felt hers disappearing/felt cold and weird.

alex <3 <3 <3 <3

he’s all at once scary, incredibly competent and hot, and adorable in this scene ldjfdlkfjld l e g e n d 

iz, if you want kyle to take his shirt off all you have to do is ask

michael yeets discretion out the window

michael i know ur going through a lot rn but also i feel like liz is good for one (1) free slap after this scene lmao

i am Very Troubled that jesse knows alex has the ship piece

i wanna know what alex’s conspiracy chat room handle is

“finally, i called mom.” this sentence literally haunts me i NEED to know more about mama manes. alex certainly doesn’t sound happy about it but he still knows how to contact her??? what is the deal

you’re the flaw, dad ^-^

can i just say i love a storyline with an abusive parent where the emotional manipulation just straight up does not work. alex is having none of it god he’s an icon

“i want to destroy the thing you love. and i want to make you watch”

and then the picture of michael pops up

“so like i said. i’m trying to protect you.”

JESSE MANES DIE PAINFULLY CHALLENGE

the cinnamon topography

god jesse is a good fucking villain

let! liz! and! michael! be! friends!

“max may not see you, but i do.” yes!! liz is fucking dangerous!! it’s fucking fantastic!!!! 

the thing is, though, that max may see her as the smart, gorgeous, loving, brilliant girl next door, and he may overlook how dangerous and determined and righteous and terrifying she can be, but the thing is that she’s both

REAL LOVING LIZ ORTECHO HOURS

michael bb dont cry

equals in both science and twisting the knife guerin + ortecho bffs 4ever

i wanna know what’s under the tarp

michael telling liz he doesn’t even blame her for wanting isobel dead, confessing that they made liz leave so she has all the facts...he knows that he’d destroy anyone who took his siblings from him and he empathizes with liz despite his own pain and fear. this is the content. this is what we gain from the characters all being well into adulthood. god this episode is fucking good.

there’s probably some good stuff in these mrs evans scenes but i juuuuuust can’t

don’t...really know what we’re supposed to take away from noah punching the mirror tbh. maybe he’s pissed/freaked out that the serum even exists?

i am a kyle valenti stan first and a human second

still fucked up that if isobel had died she would have made kyle kind of a murderer?? izzy, girl, please never do that again

“blinded by your perversions” DIE

also love how rnm doesn’t make jesse Just Misguided like that he attacked michael bc he thought he was an alien that would hurt alex nope! he’s just a homophobic monster on an unjustified crusade! all villains think they’re the heroes but that’s not the same as gray morality and i’m so fuckin amped to watch a show that understands that

tear the bitch apart, alex!!!!!

maxwell :((((((((

maxwellllllll :(((((((((((((((((

alex handing his father back his gun is still the biggest dick move anyone has ever done like. good fucking lord. 

alex won’t be caught off guard, though. he knows that he hasn’t seen the last of his father. he knows that winning the battle isn’t the same as winning the war.

the scene where isobel is coated in silver is beautifully shot tbh

liz is a GODDESS.

A GODDESS

“besides, you and I weren’t meant to be together” isn’t that far off from a lot of the stuff malex has said/that’s been said about them, and we see how long that lasts. everything’s gonna be fine, y’all

jesse tryna get jenna to inform on alex DIE

i simultaneously hope that michael/maria is over quickly and that they can still be friends, because they were honestly pretty good in this episode

so the takeaway from this episode is that if anyone tries to say roswell is badly written turns out they’re completely wrong

[lovelyirony]

have u written any drabbles about tony and sharon as cousins? like peggy being tony's godmother, and she knows about howard and his *cough abuse cough* and being protective of him and him being there when sharon was born and being rly fkin protective of her (when she says she wants to work for SHIELD as her career (like her aunt peggy), at age 10, he nearly has an aneurysm, but supports her nonetheless) she calls him "old man" and he calls her "kiddo" and it's just soft. thats it have a nice day

I have not really written any drabbles like that before! But how about I get started for you? 

abuse tw 

Peggy Carter was no fool. She knew what Howard had done, what he continued to do. That was why she visited all the time. To document things, to make sure that Tony had at least one good person in his life, and to encourage his genius. Tony needed to have someone who smiled at the robots, who didn’t tell him that he was going to be crap if he didn’t get on the weapons game early on.  

Tony is taken from the Starks’ custody when he is five. He’s placed with Angie Martinelli, who was instantly in love with the small boy, and bought him a pair of overalls to celebrate the occasion. 

Peggy fights Howard and Maria every step of the way without going public. Maria isn’t as much a fighter; she knew that she was not cut out to have a child at the beginning. It’s more of Howard, who still wants his rightful heir to the company. 

“You can hire someone else,” Peggy hisses. “But you don’t ever treat a child that way. You don’t get to. And if you try to fight me on this issue again, take me to court, I will make sure you lose so fast your head will spin straight to jail. Are we clear?” 

“Crystal,” Howard growls. 

Tony Stark is lost to the world in an accident at home. It’s a quiet funeral, everyone in the nation mourns. Well, not everyone in the nation. Peggy Carter and Angie Martinelli are teaching Tony how to play chess, and he hasn’t been able to beat Peggy yet. But that’s because she’s more strategic and Tony gets all his thoughts-ahead mixed up. 

Tony Stark becomes Tony Martinelli, and he’s the brightest boy anyone has ever seen. He really likes studying dinosaurs and cars, fixed up Angie’s cousin Jack’s motorcycle, and integrated himself into the family seamlessly. 

Angie loves her son, no matter what. And there’s a lot of “no matter what” throughout the years. She teaches him how to play the fun stuff on piano, the dirty songs that Peggy swears are not funny, but she laughs hard anyway. Angie teaches Tony all the Italian recipes, because “you’re Italian, no getting out of it, you’re with me now, sweetheart.” 

Of course, Tony’s also closely tied with Peggy’s family. Angie’s a “close friend” that the family begrudgingly accepts, if only for the fact that Peggy can and will kick their ass if they insult her girlfriend. 

Sharon is born when Tony is ten. She is small, Peggy grins as she’s holding her great-niece, and telling Tony that he would protect her. 

Sharon was tiny. She pooped and cried and couldn’t do much. She was kind of like a computer before Tony started in on the code. There were basics, but she had to learn how to do more. 

Tony always watches over her, making sure no harm comes to her. Sharon grows up to be independent, wanting to be Peggy Carter. 

They’re as close as they can get, honestly. Tony and Sharon butt heads a lot–mainly because he has a protective streak a mile wide and two miles long, and Sharon refuses to be coddled, and wants to be a SHIELD agent, and Tony nearly has a heart attack at age ten when Sharon tries to sneak out of the house to stop crime, but other than that, they’re fine. 

Sharon is there when Tony gets ditched by a boyfriend, and she’s ready to play chess. “Ready to get beat, old man?” she asked with a grin. 

“You are going to be beat so bad because you, dear cousin, are a fucking gremlin.” 

“Aunt Angie said not to curse.” 

“She’s not here.” 

“She’ll find out anyway,” Sharon says. “She knows you. So does Peggy.” 

“Peggy has a way dirtier mouth,” Tony responds. “Check.” 

“Oh, is it now?” 

Sharon’s first dance goes off successfully. Tony’s already out of schooling–but he makes sure that he’s there with an obscenely large camera, taking every single picture imaginable. 

“I hate you,” Sharon grits out while she’s smiling. “You can leave now, you piece of–” 

“Don’t ruin the smile kiddo!” Tony says. “You’re having a great time.” 

Tony ends up being a mechanic. He doesn’t want the huge business, name plastered everywhere. He fixes up classic car, refinishing them. He’s known around New York for getting the car better than the price he charges, although he does make quite a pretty penny off of them. 

Sharon does eventually become a SHIELD recruit. She goes through all the training, texts Tony that “she’s going to die before he gets his social security, which could be soon” but eventually gets to be Agent 13. 

Then, of course, the secret falls out. Tony Stark didn’t die. So technically, whoever is Tony Stark rightfully owns Stark Industries. And people are getting awfully close to discovering who he is. 

[rkxblue]

happy #rkfifth !

i told myself i wasn’t going 2 do this b/c ... i’m lazy bean, but here we are anyway! let’s get it!

but anyways starting off rookies was kind of like a vacation to me, rp wise. before rk i had my own rp that lasted a while but during 2013, there was just some drama between members that i constantly had 2 deal with and honestly it was like ... dragging me down, making admining seem like a chore and i loathed logging on to the main b/c i knew there would be some shit w/ these certain people that i had to deal with. so seeing rk in the tags being a different kind of idol roleplay ( and shout out rk for being a trendsetter ) /and/ the fact that reserves were filling up so quickly for a new rp, i quickly sent in a muse.

and it was a little ... idk at first. i did feel out of place considering most came from a different rp in the beginning and i wasn’t, and on top of me being v awkward w/ talking 2 people on instant messengers, there was a bit of time where i felt like i didn’t fit in and almost dropped like 2 weeks after i joined, LOL. luckily at the time a lot of things were going on which helped w/ plotting and meeting new muses, and everyone was super friendly and nice and that’s what kept me here!!!

so then rk turned from a vacation you didn’t want to leave from -- i ended up slagging off p majorly on my responsibilities as an admin at my own rp for a while because i was having such a good time at rk -- it rly brought back my love for rp and muse and tbh if you look back at rksunyoung’s archive back in 2013 - early 2014, i don’t think i’ve ever written as much on tumblr as i did back then, LOL. rk has definitely had it’s ups and downs and i’ve dropped both of my muses before -- but it wasn’t too long before i was bringing them back because there really isn’t a place like rk within krp. that, along with the dedication between both members and admins, is why it’s lasted so long and is still thriving with a super active dash after five fucking years. that’s crazy!! i think i remember mei saying something similar on twitter -- but when i see old rp friends and they ask “omg ur /still/ at rk???”

so it’s obvious to see why this rp went from feeling like a vacation to a home, right?? it’ll always have a special place in my heart  ♡

anyways moving on to my characters too -- when i first brought rksunyoung, now miss rkxblue, i never thought that she would last more than a couple of months, much less be involved with so many things within rk’s history!! it’s ... p wild to think about, especially since i’m someone that has a hard time committing to hobbies and such. it’s been a fun ride watching her go from someone who was wild and reckless and had a problem with love and a little bit of anger issues to someone whos a lot more well rounded, a soft idiot LOL. she even finally got herself the sweetest boyfriend after four years of being shipless on the rp, which i still can’t wrap my head around because denying herself love and believing that it doesn’t exist was one of her /things/ for the longest time. the list of stuff she’s done is so long and now that it’s lead to her finally debuting it’s ... scary yet exciting for her, to be honest, she thought she’d be a trainee forever!! i’ve had a lot of ups and downs with her muse as well, to the point where there was like years ( i think ) of inactivity on my end and she should have 4238972389 more points than she does atm because of that. i do feel sorry for her b/c that was just me being lazy ofc, but in the end i’ve gotten my shit together on her and have been pumping out replies p consistently this year and plotting w/ trainees which has done wonders for her muse. and although hyomin was literally /the/ perfect fc for her considering her personality, the fc change 2 yura has also helped majorly with my muse and it’s been so much easier to plot and reply and even with her characterization too.

as for miss rknvna!! she hasn’t had as much development as sun, aside from her tumultuous rls with a former song minho and being a royal trainee during her first run, and that’s mainly been due to my laziness again jfkafl;a. the good thing tho is that i’ve finally been able to experience life as a rookie with her, considering the times my girls have become trainees were v quick ( sun’s first time was like a week or two after the rp opened, then 3 months after i rejoined w/ her, and nana became a trainee only a month after she joined the first time ) so it was nice to experience the freedom that came with being a rookie!! since 2018 has been sun’s year, i’m going to focus on nana for 2019 so that she can branch out more!!

i guess before i move on i should give shoutouts to all my other rkmuses throughout the years whose lives were so short that i can’t even remember their urls LOL -- my song jieun, park kyungri, goo hara, and choi jinri muses!! i’m sure there’s at least one more that i’m forgetting, but they all lasted around 2 weeks so...

but i also want 2 thank rk for allowing me to be more social as well!! i’ve said this in the last anniversary post i wrote 25238957 years ago but i used 2 have a phobia of sorts when it came 2 instant messengers, so i didn’t rly have one when msn was popping and therefore, didn’t talk 2 many people ooc wise in rps. i made an aim when i came to rk and just ... diving in and talking to people helped out a lot with that, even if i do still get anxious from time to time w/ just simply messaging people. :(

i’m a shy individual ( and for some reason its only exacerbated online??? idk fam ) and unconsciously rather private as well, so that definitely hinders me from making friends as much as i would like to, but it’s a day by day process!! it’s something i’ve come 2 terms w/ as of late and will seriously work on within the next year! but even w/ me being the way that i am, i’ve been able 2 meet a couple of people that have made my experience in rk just a little bit brighter so a ( very brief ) shout out 2 them ~

to maria ( @rkjinkis ) : my sweet angel!!! i’m so glad that rk brought us together because you’ve honestly become one of my closest friends from this rp and in general tbh!! ur so super sweet and caring and a blessing 2 my life, just as much as jinki is to ahyoung’s!! i’m sorry that sun is too independent for her own good but she’s working on it okay!! baby steps!! i love how genuine u are and how we can rely on each other through thick and then, and honestly i want the world for u and more. i love love love LOVE u so much, and i’ll make sure u never forget it!! thank u for being my friend and my source of happiness!!!  ♡ ♡ ♡ 

to hamin ( @rksoohyun ) : despite the fact that we knew each other from snu it was rk that actually got us 2 start talking and i’m so grateful for that!! u literally are the cutest girl in the entire world and ur just as outgoing irl as u are online; seeing morning musume ( a group i thought i would never see live ) w/ u was truly a highlight in my life!!! and ofc soohyun will forever be nana’s fuckin child and she’ll always be rooting for her happiness!! i love u u sweet buttercup and i can’t wait until ur back so i can talk 2 u again!!!  ♡ ♡ ♡ 

to mei ( @rkariel ) : man i admired u for the longest b/c i’ve always loved the way u write and ur characterization of tiffany / ariel, so when years ago nick told me that u were actually paying attention to the minana plot and threads i was so shook i nearly tripped over myself LMFAO. i’m happy that we actually started talking b/c of that tho!!! it’s so easy 2 write w/ u and i honestly have so much fun regardless if we’re just talking about our characters, getting carried away on dash or twitter, or hurting each other w/ headcanons!! ariel has become nana’s rock p much and w/o her i’m not sure how she would of fared her time w/ mino w/o her and their discussions!!! i hope that we can become closer in the future!!

to razel ( @rkcheri ) : hiya boo!!! ik we don’t rly talk anymore but i still wanted 2 mention u b/c u were one of my first friends in rk when i felt kinda lonely, and that was definitely one of the reasons i was able to stick around!! i loved writing w/ u b/c ur writing style was always so unique that i could actually point u out whenever we were in past rps together and it’s an honor 2 even write w/ u fjkalf;a. i’m sorry that sun is such a shitty friend and i’m looking forward 2 the day jihyun kicks her ass about not telling her about jinki b/c she deserves it LOL. but just, thank u!!!!

to amy ( @yienrk ) : are u surprised ur on here?? HAHA we don’t talk too much either but i do appreciate u checking up on me whenever i’m down and just generally being supportive and nice!!! also i’m in awe about how knowledgeable u are about idols in general ( i remember one of our first convos being about how sixteen came 2 be and the collapse of all of jype’s trainees and such ) and i love yien and nana’s supportive relationship too!! i can’t wait 2 see how they develop, and i hope 2 get closer 2 u in the future!! ; u ;

to eclipse girls ( @rkariel , @rkaudrey , @rkhaseul , @rkjennie , @rkyeri ) sun couldn’t of asked 2 debut w/ a better group of girls and i’m so glad that they harmonize w/ each other so well!! i’m excited 2 see what debuting brings for them!!  ♡ ♡ ♡

and a shoutout 2 snu crew too ( piper / hoonji, nanu, @rksang, @rktomu, @rksoohyun , @rkjinhwan94, @rkpcy ) : even tho ik majority of u probably won’t see this i’m still tagging and talking about y’all anyway!!! i have so much fun reminiscing w/ u guys whenever we can, and i’m happy that i’ve grown closer too u all as well!! i’m sorry i was such a shit admin back in the day, and what brought y’all together was bad circumstances, but i’m glad it’s something that we can all look back on and laugh at now. i miss being together w/ all of u at once but i hope y’all are doing okay!!!!  ♡ ♡ ♡

and naturally, the admods too!!! thank u guys for putting up w/ all my shit whenever i was in a slump or i sent in points late or fucked up the points ( honestly kyle u are such an angel for real LOL ), and for just keeping the rp in tip top shape!!! ur the back bone of rk and we couldn’t of made it this far w/ each and every one of u and ur contributions and dedication 2 the rp!!! i’m super proud of u guys and am proud 2 call u my admins!!!!  ♡

and ofc shoutout 2 everyone that i’ve ever plotted and threaded w/ in the past and present -- i’m super shit at replying 2 those in general so thank u for being patient w/ me even though i don’t deserve it. i don’t know how else 2 end this b/c i’m also super shit at ending things so uh.... happy fifth year anniversary rk!!! here’s to many more!!!

[jiminisjamin]

At The Park

Pairing: Sastiel

Challenge: This is for @queen-of-deans-booty ‘s 3,500 follower celebration (spn card thing)! Congratulations on 3,500 followers, you deserve it and so many more! <3

“Prompts”: Sam + stress + single parent AU

Warnings: Mentions of death, a widowed parent, mentions of divorce

Rating: Mid-Fluff

Word Count: 1,559

A/n: Also I apologize if this isn’t good- I’ve never written for Sastiel, but thought I would try something new for the challenge!

Title: At The Park

 Sam sighs, glancing at his phone one more time before moving up to the receptionist once more. “Are you sure all of the kids are out?” She nods slowly, her head tilting slightly.

“Yes, I’m sure Mr. Winchester. They all left about 10 minutes ago.”

It’s around this time that panic rises in Sam’s chest, and he nods, turning quickly and bolting out of the building, shouting a rushed thank you over his shoulder as he jogs down the street, his gaze raking over the sea of people. “Johnathan! Johnny!” Sam searches frantically, stopping every person he can. “Have you seen a boy? Five years old, about this tall? He’s wearing an orange shirt- plain, yeah, plain orange, he has a dark green puffy jacket- jeans and som- no? Oh- no, thank you,” he bolts down the street, cupping his hand around his mouth and shouting. “Johnny! Johnny!” He racks his brain to think of anywhere Johnathan could be and remembers the conversation they’d had earlier. “The park…” He turns quickly, blinking away the tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he backtracks quickly, weaving his way through the crowd while constantly calling for his son.

Not too far away he can see the park, and he sees a streak of orange running across the playground. “Johnny!” He moves faster than he ever thought possible as he jumps over the bench, dropping quickly and scooping up his son, pulling him to him in a tight hug. “Oh, god, Johnny, what are you doing? Why did you leave- are you okay? Oh god, Johnny, are you okay?” He pulls away, grasping his child’s head and turning it, examining every visible inch of his son.

“Dad!” Johnathan whines, a smile sliding across his face. “I’m fine!” Sam frowns, pulling Johnathan in for another hug.

“Don’t ever do this again, why would you leave? I told you I was going to be late! I told you to wait at the front desk, Johnny!”

“Oh, my.” Sam looks up, frowning when he hears the deep voice. He stares down at him and looks away briefly. “I, uh…that would be my fault. I’m so sorry- I didn’t realize…” He motions to the side. “Maria said that Johnny said that his dad- you, I guess, said that he could come to the park with us. I didn’t think much about it- I’m so sorry. I hope you didn’t get too worried.” Sam swallows roughly and stands up.

“Johnny, go play- we’ll talk about this later, okay?”

“I’m not in trouble?” He asks softly.

“No. I’m just…I’m glad you’re okay- go, have fun.” He watches his son run over to the jungle gym, and sighs, plopping down onto the bench and covering his face.

“I’m so sorry,” the man sits down next to Sam. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

“No- I know, it’s fine. I just can’t lose him- you know? He’s all I have left.” He drags his hand down his face and then holds it out to him.

 “I’m Sam. What’s your name?” He shakes Sam’s hand.

“I’m Castiel.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Castiel.” He smiles and closes his eyes for a moment. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if he was gone.”

“Hopefully you weren’t too worried- I mean, maybe you thought your wife had just…come and got him?” Sam’s smile turns sad and he looks away.

“There’s no…wife. Not anymore, that is.”

“Oh. Divorce?”

“Widowed, actually.” Sam shakes his head, a small, bitter smile on his face. “It doesn’t seem too fair- but, hey. I still got Johnny.” He smiles, turning his gaze to his son. Castiel smiles lightly.

“I’m a single parent too.” Castiel tilts his head, staring up at the sky.

“Oh. Divorce…or?” Castiel laughs slightly and shrugs. Sam frowns. “Are you widowed too…or?” Castiel shakes his head.

“No, no. It was a divorce.”

“Oh- I’m sorry, man.” Castiel turns his gaze to Sam, his bright blue eyes searching his face as his lips quirk up in a visibly uncomfortable smile.

“I- don’t feel…bad, it was my choice.” He shifts uncomfortably.

“Oh. And…you got custody? Did she not want her?” Castiel swallows thickly.

“No, we have joint custody.” He looks over at Sam. “She actually didn’t want to get divorced.” He looks down at his hands. “I just…”

“You didn’t love her anymore?” Sam fills in, “was it someone else? Where is she?” He doesn’t see Castiel visibly stiffen, his head dropping lower as he tugs at the end of his blue sweater’s sleeve.

“No, actually. It wasn’t another…it wasn’t like that. I just…I didn’t love her anymore- there was no one else.” Sam frowns, turning to look at Castiel.

“Oh.” Castiel shifts again.

“Uh- again, I’m sorry for…worrying you. I truly thought it had been worked out with you- I didn’t know if you maybe knew Meg, or…” Sam frowns.

“Meg?”

“Uh- my, uh, ex-wife. I didn’t know if this was something you’d arranged earlier with her- so I just went with it. I don’t want Maria knowing I’m out of the loop with her mother.”

“The two of you aren’t on good terms yet?’ Sam asks, returning his gaze to watching his son play.

“You could say that, I guess. I hurt her- she hurt me…it was…a confusing time.” Sam nods, his jaw clenching.

“Yeah. I get it.”

“I doubt that,” Castiel comments, turning his gaze back to his daughter.

“Excuse me?”

“I- I just mean…I don’t think you, uh, understand what it was.”

“You didn’t love her anymore,” Sam replies. “What’s there to get? You both got hurt, it happens a lot.”

“No.” Sam turns his gaze to one of the other mom’s who was hanging around near the bench, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Excuse me?”

“It doesn’t happen a lot,” she turns her burning gaze to Castiel, and he hangs his head, his face burning in shame under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Did he cheat on her or something?” Sam asks, still confused.

“I think that would’ve been easier on her. No- he went to the other side.” The women raises her eyebrows, attempting to clue in Sam without outright telling him. Castiel swallows again, placing his hand on his neck.

“I didn’t…I didn’t switch,” he mutters, keeping his voice low. “I just…realized.” It takes a few more moments for the women to sigh, and lean into Sam.

“He’s gay, honey.” She murmurs, standing up and turning around, calling for her child and smiling. “Goodbye, Castiel.” She waves, and Castiel waves back.

“Bye,” he clears his throat, glancing over at Sam. “Uh, yeah.” Sam stares at him for a while before smiling and shrugging.

“Okay. I’m glad you didn’t force yourself to stay in that relationship,” he replies. Castiel smiles, a sigh of relief falling past his lips.

“So am I,” he mutters.

“Yeah. Also- I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or, weird about me knowing.” Sam looks away. “You don’t need to worry, I guess is what I’m saying. I…it’s normal, Castiel.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

“No problem.” Castiel clears his throat slightly.

“Have you ever…?” Sam raises his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Questioned yourself.” Sam shakes his head.

“No. I know who I like,” Castiel’s head dips slightly.

“Oh- okay, I see.” Sam’s lips curl up in a grin, and his eyebrows raise as he turns his gaze to the sky.

“You know,” he begins, getting Castiel’s attention, “I never said who I like.” Castiel sits up a little straighter.

“Oh?” Sam nods and smiles.

“Yeah. I just like people for who they are, mostly.” Sam sighs, and stands up, brushing off his jeans. “Anyways,” he pulls out his phone and hands it to Castiel.

“U-uh, what?”

“You have a phone, right?” Castiel nods.

“Yes, I-”

“Let me see it,” he fumbles to pull his phone out of his pocket and stands up, handing Sam his phone and taking Sam’s. “I, uh- put my number…in?” Sam nods, typing into Castiel’s phone.

“Yeah. I think we should talk sometime. Our kids get along- maybe they could play together sometime, and we could have some coffee?” Castiel blushes, and smiles.

“Yes- that would be…that would be fun.” Sam smiles, glancing at the ground.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it. Maybe this Friday?” Castiel nods and Sam calls Johnathan over.

“Yes, Sam- that would work.”

“Okay, great.” He grins, tilting his head as he motions for Johnny to come over. “Oh, and Castiel?” Castiel raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

“Shy suits you,” Sam smiles and turns to Johnny as he walks over. “Hey, buddy.” He lifts his kid up and smiles at Castiel. “We’ll see you and Maria Friday then?” Castiel nods.

“Yeah- yes, Friday.”

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll text you later for more details,” Sam smiles, his gaze lingering with Castiel’s for a few seconds, only breaking when Maria calls for her father, and Castiel turns around, his expression turning soft as he crouches down, enveloping his daughter in his arms and talking softly to her. Sam smiles, and turns.

“Talk to you later, Cas.” He says, setting Johnathan down and grabbing his hand, heading over to their car.

“Talk to you then!” Castiel calls out, quickly sparing a glance over his shoulder at Sam. Sam turns, meeting Castiel’s gaze once more, and his heart lifts slightly as a deep blush creeps over Castiel’s cheeks.

Tags: 

SPN: @thatshellfiredean , @idixsyncrxsy , @ain-t-bovvered , @and-we-are-all-dead , @shows-up-naked-covered-in-bees

[liu-anhuaming]

book recommendations

literally no one asked for this but i love to read and i want to tell you about the best books i’ve read so let’s go. also, there’s no particular order to these

* means an absolute favorite of mine

updated feb. 5 2019

📖  the princess bride by william goldman *

📖  east of eden by john steinbeck

📖  the raven and the reindeer by t. kingfisher *

📖  the lunar chronicles by marissa meyer

📖  the bear and the nightingale by katherine arden *

📖  the abyss surrounds us by emily strutskie

📖  a criminal magic by lee kelly

📖  good omens by neil gaiman & terry pratchett

📖  foundling by d.m. cornish

📖  the hate u give by angie thomas

📖  human acts by han kang

📖  the four books by yan lianke *

📖  the mysterious benedict society by trenton lee stewart (this is my absolute favorite book if you read any book on this list please read this one) *

📖  the hobbit by j.r.r. tolkien

📖  reckless by cornelia funke

📖  where’d you go, bernadette by maria semple

📖  where the mountain meets the moon by grace lin

📖  the queen’s thief series by megan whalen turner *

📖  the raven cycle by maggie stiefvater 

📖  ella enchanted by gail carson levine

📖  the female of the species by mindy mcginnis

📖  dune by frank herbert

📖  the night circus by erin morgenstern *

📖  ...and the earth did not devour him (...y no se lo tragó la tierra) by tomás rivera (you can find a bilingual edition since it was originally written in spanish and translated into english and it’s super interesting)

📖  grimm’s fairy tales by the brothers grimm

📖  deathless by catherynne m. valente *

📖  the thief lord by cornelia funke

📖  the agency series by y.s. lee (if you love spies and historical fiction read this whole series)

📖 the master and margarita by mikhail bulgakov *

📖 heart of a dog also by mikhail bulgakov (both this book and m&m are satire about soviet russia and they’re excellent)

📖 the buried giant by kazuo ishiguro

📖 the man who spoke snakish by andrus kivirähk

📖 severance by ling ma *