#and anyways there's this one man and he's been to jail and even prison multiple times

[t4tstarvingdog]

tim theres something so so special about seeing you gay yearn posting on the dash when i am gay yearning too but am too tired to post

true solidarity

i've got you <3

[violetspots1]

Part 2 to that Welcome Home Incorrect Quotes post I made, like, a year ago. Wow how productive of me.

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Poppy: Good morning.

Julie: Good morning.

Eddie: Good morning.

Barnaby: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

Sally: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS!

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Barnaby, holding in their laughter: Hey, how do you ask a glass of water what it’s doing?

Frank: A glass of water is an inanimate object. Therefore, it's incapable of having a thought process or understanding basic human language.

Barnaby:

Barnaby: Water you doing?

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Julie, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha.

Frank: Do you think other people can’t hear you?

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Wally: Good. Thanks, dad.

Poppy: You just called Eddie “dad”. You just said “thanks, dad.”

Wally: What? No, I didn’t. I said “thanks, man”.

Eddie: Do you see me as a father figure, Wally?

Wally: No. If anything I see you as a bother figure ‘cause you’re always bothering me.

Howdy: Hey! Show your father some respect!

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Howdy: *on the phone* Just snap his kneecaps and he’ll talk, I’m at a parent teacher conference.

Howdy: Anyways, you said Wally is enjoying finger painting! That's great.

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Eddie: Shouldn't get stressed out, it's not good for the baby.

Wally: What baby?

Eddie, crying a bit: Me.

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Wally: The shadow realm? No, I’m sending you to Ohio!

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Howdy: Well, if you're not at least a little bit gay for your friends, then what kind of friend are you?

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Frank, looking at a selfie of Wally's: I hate this photo.

Wally: I’m cute as fuck in that photo! I’m smiling kindly.

Frank: You’re not smiling kindly; you look like you’re up to something.

Wally: Up to kindness.

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*at a zoo*

Julie: What are they in for?

Frank: Julie, this isn't prison.

Julie: So they can leave?

Frank: No, but-

Julie, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

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Poppy: Fine! Judge all you want but...

Poppy, points at Sally: Married a lesbian.

Poppy, points at Julie: Left a man at the altar.

Poppy, points at Wally: Fell in love with a gay ice dancer.

Poppy, points at Barnaby: Threw a girl’s wooden leg in a fire.

Poppy, points at Howdy: Lives in a box!

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Julie: Frank and I are so close we even share a toothbrush.

Frank: We what?

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Wally: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay right?" and watch the look of terror on their face.

Barnaby:

Barnaby: I like you.

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Eddie: I think I'm falling for you.

Frank: Then get up.

.

Julie: Why do you act like we’re three year olds?

Frank, exasperated: WHY?!?

Frank points at Barnaby: YOU TRIED TO HYJACK A CAR!

Frank points at Wally: YOU NEARLY JUMPED 20 FEET OFF A CARPARK!

Frank points at Julie: AND YOU ATE MULTIPLE DRIED LEAVES AND ROCKS OFF THE GROUND!

Frank: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

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Howdy: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.

Frank: Oh. We're going out?

Howdy: Wh…

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Wally: *gets set on fire and screams in agony*

Wally: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

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Sally: I need 28 lightbulbs for 28 ducks.

Howdy: Ducks can’t eat lightbulbs?

Barnaby: I think that’s the point.

Sally: Exactly. I want my ducks to glow so I can find them.

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Julie: Wasn't icarly that guy that girlbossed too close to the sun because he was down for Apollo?

Frank: ICARUS?

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*at an awards show*

Poppy: Can I carry you on my back like Eddie did?

Wally: I don't think Barnaby would like that.

Poppy: *pouts*

*Later*

Poppy: *carrying Wally on their back*

Barnaby: What the hell??

Wally: What was I supposed to do? Say no?

.

Frank: I have very high standards, you know.

Eddie: I can make spaghetti...

Frank: Oh no! You're meeting all my standards!

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Wally: I’ve been here in jail so long I think I’ve lost my mind.

Wally: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months.

Wally: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year?

Barnaby: This is Monopoly.

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Wally: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

Barnaby: *crouches down*

Frank: *kneels down*

Poppy: *sits on the floor*

Wally:

Wally: I hate all of you.

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*Sally is crying after a breakup*

Eddie: There there, Sally.

Sally, still crying: Thanks, but how did you get into my room?

Eddie: Great question—

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Barnaby, knocking on the door: Howdy, open up!

Howdy: It all started when I was a kid.

Barnaby: That’s not what I-

Sally: Let them finish!

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Julie, on a random band name generator: Oooo! They Might Be Depressed Horses! That about sums up my friend group.

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Julie: War is heck!

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Sally: What’s it like being tall?

Sally: Is it nice?

Sally: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Poppy: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Wally: It was one time!

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Howdy: Last night I found out Barnaby is a sleep talker.

Poppy: Oh, really?

Howdy: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am.

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Wally: Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey!

Poppy: But I'm a vegan.

Wally: Wakey Wakey Vegetables and Sadness.

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Howdy: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.

Sally: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...

Julie: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.

Eddie: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.

Barnaby: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.

Wally: Mental stability, my old friend!

Howdy: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

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Frank, looking over Wally’s shoulder: You can draw?

Wally, stopping what they were doing: You can speak?

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Wally, near tears: Please, Neighbor, I don’t speak meme! I don't know what a 'yeet' is!

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Julie: A party is a celebration of a life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they’re loved. Frank has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for them.

Eddie: By forcing them to have fun at a party that they don’t want to be at?

Julie: I knew you’d understand.

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Wally: Julie noticed only today that they can label their email inboxes, but they took apart their entire bloody laptop two weeks ago.

Sally: This reminds me of the Julie who couldn’t turn on the coffee maker, but remembers about 500 digits of pi.

Wally: I’ll be delighted to inform you that this is the very same Julie.

.

Julie: What do I get?

Sally: A night of fashion, mischief, mayhem, and possible death.

Julie: Ooh, check, check, and check; not sure about that last one.

Sally: It won't be you.

Julie: I'll get my coat.

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Wally: My crush isn’t picking up on my hints.

Barnaby: What hints have you given them?

Wally: Well, I think about them a lot.

Wally: And sometimes I even think about talking to them.

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Poppy: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine!

Julie: How can you still say that?

Poppy: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

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Julie: If you spell skeletons backwards, it still spells skeletons.

Barnaby, deadpan: Wow, I can't wait for Halloween to see some snoteleks.

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Wally: I'm not a morning person. I'm barely even a person.

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Julie, holding a scooter: Poppy! Can I go outside and play with this?

Poppy: Sure, whatever. I'm not your parent, okay?

Julie, running outside: Thanks Poppy!

Poppy, running out after them and screaming: NOT ON THE STREET! STAY AWAY!

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Sally: ....Thou shalt not marry each other, for thy art both sinful...

Frank: I just wanna fucking marry Eddie!!

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Eddie: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Julie: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Wally: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Sally: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

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Frank: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Frank, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

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I did it :D

[friend-of-giants]

Hi! Odd OC asks, but please feel free to share snippets in your answers! For Wren and Teldryn!

🍩: What's a crime your OC is most likely to commit? What's a crime they're most likely to get arrested for? (: (: (: (: (:

🍍: Where does your OC feel most comfortable?

🍩

Wren has been jailed for public drunkenness on several occasions. Poor girl has a plethora of problems, none of which drinking will solve, but she does it anyway. She has a tendency to become loud and boisterous when drunk as well as taking her clothes off, even if she's in the middle of the bar.

Honorable mentions - theft and assault because, well, it's Wren.

Teldryn in current times tends to stay out of trouble, as he had enough of that in his younger years. If anything, he'd be most likely to commit assault or murder, but only if he thought the victim truly deserved it, whether it's self defense or defending someone he cares about.

A couple centuries ago he was a different man, one who could hardly stay out of prison. He got caught up in a drug dealing operation when he was in his younger years, which landed him behind bars on multiple occasions both for getting caught selling said drugs or by means of consuming them himself and causing trouble. Upon being shipped back to Morrowind and discovering his role as the Nerevarine, he put that life behind him and was... mostly a good boy. Shortly after the events of the Red Year however, he spent most of his time drinking heavily to cope with his trauma, and ended up jailed a few times for being an absolute drunken menace.

🍍

Wren feels her most comfortable when she's in the safety of her own home, snuggled up in bed under her mountain of furs with a good book and a piping hot mug of spiced mead. Bonus points if there's someone there to enjoy the moment with.

As for Teldryn, he also likes lounging around in bed (I mean, who doesn't?), but feels just as content sitting outside at dusk, watching the torchbugs and reflecting on life.

And here's a snippet since you asked :) from Chapter 8 - What Guides Us. This is hands down one of my favorite bits of writing I've done.

Crickets filled the late evening air with their music, thousands and thousands of individual calls combining into a singular song that seemed to surround and envelop the listeners of the night.  The torchbugs, too, were out in full force.  Swarms of them floated lazily above the grasses along the shoreline, as if lighting the stage for the crickets below.  Not a single coherent thought among all of them, they simply existed, oblivious to the world around them and its troubles. 

Oh, the simple life of bugs.  

It had been quite some time since Teldryn was able to just sit and enjoy such a peaceful setting, and bugs in particular, he thought, were quite interesting.  Small little things with lives of their own, even if those lives were short and consisted only of eating and finding a mate and making even more bugs, but they seemed to be quite successful at it.  The world could crumble around them and take all men and mer with it, and the bugs would continue on with their little lives as if it were just another day. 

He leaned back in his chair that sat overlooking the lake and closed his eyes, taking in the peaceful night around him.  It wasn’t too warm, nor was it too cool.  The wind had died earlier in the evening and in its wake, a profound stillness was all that remained.  The only things that might make this moment better would be a bottle of sujamma and someone to share it with. 

[masterofrecords]

Angstober day 28: Face the Consequences

A sort of companion piece to Rules

Imprisonment

Tristan accepted his new reality fairly quickly. A devil knows the price of failure and the price of broken commitments.

Plus, his circumstances could be much, much worse.

The loneliness is nothing particularly new, in all honesty. Devils are solitary creatures, and Hell isn’t known for its comforts. And he isn’t treated badly, per se – they can’t kill him in any meaningful way (at least he hopes they cannot), and despite that old-young woman’s threats, they seem to be keeping their word of not turning him into some kind of magical battery.

They even bring him food once he gives in and asks. The young woman listening to his request has a face that loudly says that doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about devils to argue.

That’s fine with him.

They call him Tristan, and he notices no attempts to deduce his real name, which is a relief.

So it’s not bad, really. He even has company sometimes, in the shape of the overly-enthusiastic artifact specialist who is sometimes accompanied by a quiet guy in black glaring at Tristan the entire time, or a large man with multiple swords strapped to his waist and back.

The large man is Tristan’s favorite, because from time to time he brings booze that’s not great, but fairly decent.

Sometimes though, he has to resist the desire to ask for meatballs specifically.

They won’t be as good as Mark’s, anyway.

He requests a blanket, then a tablecloth. The blanket is a little scratchy, and the tablecloth a plain white that could have benefited greatly from some embroidery and a fringe on the edge, but a prisoner has no room for complaining.

He’s already been asking for too much, and he isn’t sure if the detectives have told his captors about Isolde and Mark, doesn’t know if they’d managed to read and decipher the letter he’d sent. He doesn’t know how much leverage he’s given away already in the desperate attempt to keep his life and whatever remained of the work he’d done on this plane, but it’s bound to come bite him back one day.

Perhaps it was for the best, all things considered. After the scale of his failure, perhaps a magicless chamber was his best protection. In the end, he was a good enough liar not to show anyone how much he truly feared the temporary death that would have put him before the archdevil he served.

Tristan wondered if his disappearance has been noticed. Has the bureaucratic machine of Hell realized he wasn’t sending in reports anymore? It’s been months, they must have.

Have Isolde and Mark done anything about their Contract and their mutual aid arrangement? Tristan almost regretted giving them his signed permission to dissolve it in the letter he’s sent. He should have asked for help instead – but it was outside of the scope of the Contract, and he had no desire to owe them anything.

He should ask for a book. Surely, the artifact guy would give him a book?

An eternity in jail is a bleak future, but Tristan lost, and he refuses to do so without grace. Still, he refuses to give up, either.

If once a day comes when someone enters the room that can be convinced, bribed, or deceived into helping him – well.

It will be another game entirely.

[livvyofthelake]

CAN YOU PLEASEEEEE PLEASE PLEASE ELABORATE ON ALINA GENYA KIT TY ARTHUR LANCELOT.....

well see the thing is that alina loved genya but WAS forced to marry another man…. both in the sense that she’s engaged to nikolai and in the sense that she has that weird soulmate shit with mal… and you know i LOVE alina and mal. it’s just that i also love alina and genya. like what if i loved you just because you were kind and you were there for me at my lowest points and even after you betrayed me i still loved you and forgave you because i understood you so deeply that you could never really do anything that wrong in my eyes. and then with genya it’s like what if i knew i could never have you and i knew i was hurting you but i still loved you because for my entire life i’ve been an object to be used and mocked and you’re the only one who ever cared to see me as a person but i still wanted more and i had to betray you to get it but i hated doing it because you were the first one who ever really loved me and i was stupid and didn’t think that was enough….. ok i have to stop now i’m normal about those women. 😐 anyway also we know that alina is just like king arthur so it was only right to put them next to each other. actually alina and genya are in the video three times but the third is next to lancelot and arthur which is what we’re talking about…. and yeah basically those men were in love but couldn’t do anything about it and arthur had to marry guinevere for politics and lancelot had an affair with her because he couldn’t have arthur (common triangulation of desire L tbh). and of course there are many perfectly acceptable ways to interpret arthurian legend and the relationship between these three but this is my second favorite so. you could also say that lancelot was in love with guinevere and arthur was in love with lancelot and had to marry someone so he chose her as a proxy for him. which is my favorite. because i am normal!! and then also that happened to kit… when he kissed livvy on the beach because she asked and he was viewing her as a substitute for her brother… ok gayass!! and the insane miscommunication that one stupid moment resulted in with ty believing that kit was in love with livvy and kit not knowing ty thought that and ty pushing away his own feelings for kit because he thinks that if kit was in love with livvy he’ll want to help him bring her back, and he would have rather had his sister back than know kit had been in love with HIM the whole time. it’s so insane actually. cassie deserves a little jail time for it i think. not to support the american prison system. what the hell was i supposed to be talking about. oh yeah well i hesitate to say that ty is lancelot in the general Comparing The Characters Of The Wicked Powers To Arthurian Characters thing because he’s not really and i actually view him as more of an outsider to the rest of them and the sort of wild card character that throws the story into motion. but in a certain way yeah he’s the lancelot to kit’s arthur and livvy is like their guinevere to balance out the crazy trio. but as we all know. livvy is the lady of the lake. not guinevere. it’s really complicated actually there are multiple themes at play….

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 4- You Cannot Cage A Wolf

Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: Fuck the police and Ironman for that matter, now how the hell are you and Bucky going to manage getting out of this mess?

Warning: violence no duh, bucky going through it, bit o angst, things getting hectic

Masterlist

To say you were pissed would be the understatement of the century, again, you were locked in a cage of steel and glass. Surrounded by enemies who’d rather see you dead, but maybe you deserved it. 

Maybe.

The Romanian combat police had locked you and Bucky into separate concealed glass confinements before loading the two of you into one long metal truck. Purposely facing the tiny prisons face to face with one another so that you would have full access to witnessing the discomfort and irritation on each other’s faces while armed officers sat to either side.

Well you’re not sure if it was exactly intentional, but still, at least you could make sure Bucky was okay and him you.

Your hands and legs are guarded by thick metal as your shoulders and upper arms keep firmly held by a small cage of steel; your body forced to sit for hours on end as the security trucks drive you both all the way to Berlin, Germany. A fucking 18 hour field trip by vehicle, at least you got some pee breaks.

Staring angrily at Bucky’s hand, you wish nothing more then to break out of here and fucking gut the assholes responsible for your unlawful imprisonments, Bucky did absolutely nothing to T’Challa and why the hell would they think you’re involved with his fathers death? It doesn’t make any sense. Not at all.

Why would anyone want the two of you for that matter?

Suddenly the truck jostles and stirs before stopping completely as you start to feel the shift of the vehicle reversing into something, your eyes immediately look up to find Bucky who’s already focused on you. His eyes are sad and full of pain for how they’ve treated you like an animal, caged you like a wild cat, more so then what they’ve done to himself. He never wanted you to deal with any shit like this again, not after the traumatic history Hydra had befallen on you for so many years. You don’t deserve this.

Returning a small smile, you give him a playful wink of reassurance before your glass and metal prison is rolled backwards and away from Bucky. Your fists clench in vexation and enmity for the current shit situation you happen to be sucked into, you feel like a beast at a goddamn freak show. Soon you’re rolled into a yawning chasmal underground parking garage of sorts, as flashing emergency lights from police cruisers blink annoyingly from your left while their riders park. 

This must be some government building here in Berlin, you think, eyes wandering around at the secured cavernous glass and metal interior. Sliding clear doors make the entrance way to your far left wall, while further into the spacious room is a large wall of cement, more doors in various areas and a large staircase ascending into a giant balcony onto the next floor up.

Bucky’s cell is placed next to yours by another forklift as he glances at Steve drearily, while you throw nothing but an irritated scowl at the back of Steve just as Sam and T’Challa exit the black security van. Guards dressed in black attire close by. They soon make a swift yet cautious admission over to greet some short salt and peppered haired man in a dull grey suit, a blonde woman also with an equal amount of security by his side. Three armed guards in the back and three behind Steve. 

What the hell are these people so afraid of? And why is any of this happening?

You can’t quit tell what’s being said from the concealed limitation of your moveable prison to where these assumingly high end important government officials are placed. It’s incredibly frustrating that you could just about scream, but now where would that get you? Probably smacked by some electrical shocking stick, those bastards, you think bitterly.

Soon the group appears to make some agreement before the shorter grey haired man nods an approval of invitation and with that does Steve, Sam, and T’Challa follow the short man and blonde woman farther away. All you or Bucky are able to witness before the doors to the new hallway you’re currently being pushed into closes, is the group walking for some glass doors that show a long hallway.

Then the giant metal doors slam shut in your face. 

——

The forklift holding onto your portable prison cell ascends down the hallway as armed guards keep watch from both sides, walking in step with the pace of the lift as a set of eight in total surround yours and Bucky’s confinements. A minute later they bring your steel box into a windowless cement room, turning you to face the exit, your cells are rolled separately across some caution tape before all comes to a halt. Finally.

Your eyes follow the movements of regular security guards as they take long thick wires from the side of the stone walls, plugging them into your prisons as the lights inside flicker for a brief moment, stabilizing in a second. One guard gives you a wary yet curious glance before snapping his head down when your fearsome glare just about smacks him in the face, quickly after that, everyone leaves before shutting the sliding metal doors that hide you both from the outside world.

Waiting a moment, your eyes dance suspiciously across the room, “Y/N.” Calls Bucky, causing you to snap your attention over to him.

“What?” You mumble somberly, gaze trailing all over his stoically pensive expression, he’s without a doubt not pleased to be here. Though having you next to him makes things more bearable. 

“Can you breath alright?” He asks worriedly, due to the thick plastic half face mask that prevents you from properly communicating with anyone, guess the Romanian police didn’t appreciate you calling them bastards. Among other things.

“Yeah.” You mumble out once again before pulling up on the metal clasps to no avail, what is this even made out of, “They got us pretty good, Buck. This might be a bit of a challenge to get out of...”

“You think we’re getting out of these things?”

“Well.......I’m being optimistic....so, uh.....there’s always a chance.”

The smallest of smile reveals itself for a flash of a second as Bucky forgets where you are and just welcomes your never ending humor, “You think they’re watching us?”

“Without a doubt. If I could flip them off I would.” You chuckle as your eyes trail up to the tiny dark sphere in your prison, yeah that’s definitely a camera. “Dickheads.” You mutter to whoever is listening.

“What do you think they’re going to do to us?” Wonders Bucky after a long moment of silence.

Taking a heavy breath you lean your head back, “Oh I don’t know. They’ll probably put me down like an old dog and then you’ll get broken out of jail by the Captain America himself.......you’ll probably be fine.”

Shaking his head, he looks over at your relatively bored face, “What if we’re not.”

Sensing his growing anxiety for your future placement, you turn to face him, “Then I’ll......uh........break us out of here?” You muse with an unsure shrug, well the best you can with the steel hugging your shoulders.

“Not all of us can take multiple bullets and survive.” Deadpans Bucky as you frown, he’s got you there.

“Okay uh.....let me think for a second.......uh, alright I got it..” You chirp enthusiastically before your face falls just as quickly as you let out a defeated, “...fuck never mind I don’t want murder charges.”

Bucky could have laughed, “I think we’d need to be more stealthy, and anyways there’s to many cameras.”

“Yeah.” You mutter dully, “Too many goddamn cameras.”

After about twenty minutes of mindlessly sitting in your cell while Bucky sits equally as bored from his own space a couple feet next to you, a man of relative height and stature walks into the large windowless cement room, a black book shaped travel bag hanging from his shoulder. He smiles in greeting at the two of you, though you can tell behind those glasses of his it’s anything but friendly. It’s strange, the way that his dark eyes reveal no true form of kindness or pleasantries. 

Who the hell is this now?

The dark blondes beady umber irises flicker curiously from Bucky to you and back to Bucky again, a sort of childlike wonder flashing through them as he steps closer to the nearby desk.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” Nods the man in an almost Sokovian like accent, kinda sounds like you, greeting set on Bucky before he sends you a devious grin, “Miss. Valerious.” He nods, inquisitive eyes studying your stoic face of pure daggers as you breath steadily in your muzzle, “I’ve been sent by the United Nations to evaluate your partner here, so you needn’t worry, your time is not with me. But I ask if you please give me my time with him, that is all.” Assures the strange man as he focuses his attention back on Bucky again; eh, not like you have much of a choice.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Asks the dark eyed man as Bucky simply stares, suspicious and bored out of his mind; you naturally roll your scrutinizing leer as the man seats himself next to a table farther away in front of you two.

Guess he’s not leaving anytime soon.

“You’re first name is James?” Wonders the man though you can tell he already knows the answer; with pursed lips does he shrug innocently, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know where you are James?”

Bucky keeps silent, and all you want to do is smack that annoying blondes glasses right off of his face, “I can’t help if you don’t talk to me, James.”

“My name is Bucky.” Begrudgingly mumbles your irritated companion, while your brows set hard in puzzlement for where this conversation is going.

Writing something down in his notes, the man nods, “Tell me something Bucky. You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?”

Bucky glares, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You fear that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop.” Mutters the blonde man as you scoff, his dark eyes instantly snap over to you.

“Come over here and I’ll show you something terrifying.” You threaten, though your voice is mumbled and husky through the damn mask covering your mouth from properly speaking. He hands you a fake smile in reply, appearing to enjoy your menacing presage nonetheless.

Dark eyes set back onto Bucky, he hums, “Don’t worry. We only have to talk about one.” You watch in curiosity as he looks down at his touchpad screen, a satisfied little grin appearing onto his thin lips when suddenly the lights go dark, sending the room into pitch blackness. 

Though your sight shifts to dull grays and blues to counter this with your enhanced vision. A second later the dim emergency lights glow from up above giving the room a dull blue tint. While a red one blinks off and on repetitively in the shadowed room. The fuck?

“What the hell is this?” Grumbles Bucky as your eyes trail warily and alert over to the man as he draws his chair back to stand, though he remains seated. 

“Why don’t we discuss your home? Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no.” Taking a faded red book out of his traveling bag, your eyes squint in suspicion as you notice a large black star printed on the front while he continues, “Your real home.”

oh, fuck

Turning to face Bucky, you’re alarmed to witness as his face appears conflicted and anxious; he’s afraid, soon the man rises to his feet before opening up the book and begins walking towards Bucky’s cell. A smile on his face as he begins speaking in Russian, “Longing.”

“No.” Mutters your lover as he blinks hard before staring hopelessly up at the ceiling.

“Rusted.”

“Stop.” Protests Bucky as he turns to throw you a pleading look, you frown, not sure what’s happening but you know it can’t be good. Hydra never did anything like this to you, no trigger words, just good old childhood manipulation and the occasional beating if you didn’t comply.

“Seventeen.” Speaks the man as Bucky’s face darkens with anger.

“Stop.” He growls furiously as heavy breaths push at his chest with building adrenaline.

“Daybreak.” A frustrated ragged scream emits from Bucky’s lips as his fists clench and muscles tighten, the man smirks as he gets closer to Bucky’s cage.

“Stop it!” You cry desperately while Bucky yells before ripping the metal from his left hand and breaking the metal clasp on his right, an animalistic growl sounding from deep within his throat as panic sets rooted into your stomach, “Fuck off!” You scream frantically, “I’ll gut you like a goddamn fish!”

Giving a pernicious grin, he ignores you, “Furnace.”

You watch in horror as Bucky emits a roaring cry of desperate anger as he begins pounding furiously against the glass. Coming back to your senses you ignore the mess happening next to you as your muscles contract and strain against the tight metal clasps caging your forearms, shoulders, and legs to the chair.

“Nine.”

You listen to more heavy pounding on glass as a hopeless ragged cry of futile rage rips forth from your throat in an anguished attempt at breaking free. Pulling your arms upward, your flesh strains viciously against the tough metal clasps while you struggle to free yourself. A moment later the metal clasps begin to groan and creak as they loosen accordingly, your strength forcing them into compliance.

“Benign.”

A thin sheet of sweat emits from the side of your face while you yell in frustration at the weight of the locks against your wrists, Bucky pounds furiously, soon metal fist starts cracking though thick glass as you finally rip the metal clasps from off of your right arm, “Fuck off!” You roar threateningly, eyes wild and raging like a bursting dragons flame unto a hopeless stick village, the man simply shifts his gaze back down to the book.

“Homecoming.”

He ignores you; heart beating a mile a minute, you unsheathe your right claws only to free your left hand from the abrasive metal lock as he continues to pound his fist against the slowly breaking glass door. Raising your hands to the back of your lower head, you forcefully rip the thick plastic muzzle from off of your face with a distinctive cracking sound emitting from the strong material.

“Nine.” Speaks the dark eyed blonde as he walks in between the two of your cells, appearing unafraid of your threats from earlier even as he witnesses you breaking free from the steel clasps on your legs now.

“Freight car.”

Crash! 

Instantly your head snaps up to watch as Bucky’s glass door flies violently across the room and onto the harsh ground below; your breath hitches as all goes silent. The mans back is to you as he calmly walks over to Bucky who’s crouched onto the floor like a predator ready to strike, a second later he slowly rises to his feet. Though all life is gone from his dark pools of inky blue, he’s not your Bucky anymore.

“Soldier?” Whispers the dark eyed man in wonder, confident that his plan has effectively worked, whatever the fuck kind of plan in question.

Eyes wide, you swallow thickly as Bucky stares at the door, face noticeably covered in sweat, his eyes stare forward like a beast waiting to kill. He’s nothing but a vessel for chaotic destruction.

Breathing heavily, Bucky speaks in Russian, “Ready to comply.”

Suddenly the frustration in you boils over into pure animalistic rage for what this fucker has done to him, screaming bitterly, you punch the glass, slicing three thin lines straight through the material. The blonde one gives you a wary glance before addressing the Winter Soldier, “Mission report. December 16, 1991.”

“Bucky, don’t tell him shit!” You cry frantically in Russian, hoping that the Winter Soldier consuming him might hear something familiar in your desperation; whatever this man wants, you know full well what happened that night which means his motives are anything but friendly. If that wasn’t already apparent.

Bucky blinks, eyes shifting to the new ringmaster in control.

It’s no use, he’s not there, it’s what Hydra had made of him and now he must obey; Bucky ignores as you pound and scream for him to stop, to shut the hell up and come back to you but it’s all in vain. He tells the bastard everything in a matter of seconds as your face falls.

Heart pounding with adrenaline, you slash a clean line that rips right through the bolts of the door in wild fury, it sparks against your Adamantuim claws while creaking in protest as you finally kick it open. The huge door clatters and clashes to the ground as you step out of the glass prison and onto the cement flooring of the large windowless room. Red emergency lights flashing behind you as they make your tense form appear as sort of a clawed beast rising from straight out of hell.

The dark eyed man warily turns to you, when a sudden childlike excitement dances across his features as he takes a cautious step back, a small thrilled smirk pulling at his lips. The mans obsidian pools flicker over to Bucky who keeps a steady death stare with the wall ahead, the man nods in approval for his painstaking work before trailing his eyes over to you, “Soldier. Kill the Hellcat.” Smirks the man as your eyes shift reluctantly from himself to Bucky. 

oh shit, you think miserably as your heart feels like its just sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Swallowing thickly, tears threaten to spill as your body shakes with racing adrenaline, your breaths noticeably heavier as you willingly begin retracting your claws. 

The familiar metal sinks painfully back into your skin as you stare them down distastefully. Frowning deeply, you slowly pull your hands up into fists, readying your stance for the fight that’s inevitably about to come.

Making a sickened face, you swallow nervously as Bucky takes a step forward with eyes set like a wolf to his prey. Reluctantly your feet move an apprehensive step closer, “Fuck.” You mutter under your breath as Bucky makes the first move. 

——

God why does your head hurt so damn much? Is the room spinning?

When you come to, the lights are still blinking an obnoxious red as you lay sprawled out across the cement floor, a puddle of blood trailing in a couple of dark-red thin lines from beneath your head to the yellow hazard stickers placed on the ground.

The air smells of blood and sweat as you suck in a deep breath before moving to sit up, at least the headache is gone, your eyes trail warily across the empty room as you touch the back of your head to get an understanding of what the hell happened here.

You can’t remember a thing.

A warm wetness greets your finger tips to no surprise, pulling them away, you study the murky crimson liquid staining your fingertips before your mind heals completely, your brain matter fusing back accordingly. Bits of the missing puzzle pieces soon form a coherent picture as you sit back in shock from the violent happenings that resulted in you bloody on the ground. 

 The man commanded Bucky to kill you.

The two of you indeed fought, but knowing that if you wanted to win you’d have to kill him yourself; Bucky kept his life as you let the Winter Soldier end yours. After dodging fist after fist thrown at you by Bucky, you finally gave in and let him pin you to the ground before he grabbed your face with his metal hand, smashing your skull against the cement floor in one dangerous deafening blow. Then it was over and...

Where even is he?

Picking yourself up, you quickly wander into the nearest opening only to be greeted by a multitude of unconscious guards, walking further down, you furrow your brows at the heavily dented elevator door where it appears that someone had been forced through. Touching the bent metal you sniff the air, it smells of Bucky and Steve. They couldn’t have been here less then thirty seconds ago.

Shifting to the right, you book it down the hallway to the sounds of strained grunts and fists hitting flesh. Soon you’ve found yourself at the edge of a large excessively windowed room, presumably the food court of sorts in this excessively ginormous place.

In the center is Bucky who’s absolutely beating the shit out of everyone making frugal attempts at stopping him. Your eyes observe Tony who’s positioned a good distance away as he breaths heavily from the floor, eyes wide in shock while he cradles one of his arms. The blonde haired woman from earlier appears in pain as she lays on her back, a broken table underneath her as the Black Widow squeezes Bucky’s neck with her thighs.

Natasha uses her elbows as a battering ram against his skull while he walks with her over to the closest table before slamming her roughly against the metal; he glares fiercely down at the Black Widow before using his titanium fist to choke the life out of her as she struggles against his weight.

Stepping into the huge room, your boots pound against the flooring as you deliver a powerful kick to Bucky’s strong waist, he tumbles across the thin carpeting before jumping to his feet in an instant. Natasha regains her lungs in a choked gasp as you throw a fist at Bucky’s chest, deflecting it, you use this new side lined momentum to duck under his approaching blow as you slide on the flooring, missing a fatal hit to your face by mere inches.

No more face shots please.

He whips around from the near miss, charging you once again; preparing for the worst of the Winter Soldier, your shoulders line up with his approaching body as your eyes calculate his next move. But when he readies his arm to punch, you slide to the side before swiftly twisting your body around to face him once more, all done within less then two seconds.

Watching his head turn left in confusion, you kick his back harshly onto the ground with the power enough to rival that of a lioness before huffing in frustration as he surges to his feet; you immediately halt in your tracks when out of nowhere T’Challa kicks Bucky across the floor. Soon the two men dance like two skilled warriors before Bucky takes the upper hand and whips the prince over the carpeted floor.

Blinking in bewilderment, you watch as he races up the stairs; the Winter Soldier doing his absolute best to get the fuck out of there, knowing he’s outnumbered by two and wary of getting his shit rocked by you again. Though he’s not even fully aware why you’re attacking him since his mind is back at Hydra and last he remembers you where on their side, and presumably bleeding out in another room.

Breathing heavily, you turn to share an awkward moment of uncertain eye contact with the prince of Wakanda before he throws you a half restrained dirty look, sprinting up the stairs after Bucky.

You’re able to take one step before a raspy voice snaps your attention over to a table, it’s Natasha, “Y/N.” She gasps through strained breaths.

Clenching your fists you leave those two to work it out as you swiftly approach the ex-assassin, “What?!” You snap.

Forcing herself into a seated position, she gingerly touches her bruising throat, “Guess you where right.” She chuckles painfully.

“Right about what?” You bark with a frown, eyes flickering over to Bucky and T’Challa as they throw jabs on the stairway landing.

“Last we met. You said I’d be lucky if we never met again. Guess you where right.”

“You’re an ex-assassin how lucky did you really expect to be?” You retort before taking a step for the ascending stairs when a hand takes your wrist.

“You have to stop him.” Urges Natasha, “No one here’s an equal force, you’re the Hellcat Y/N, you have to stop him no matter the cost.”

Throwing her an irritated glare at hearing your Hydra code name yet again, you growl like a wounded beast, “I’m not killing anyone!”

“You might not have a choice.” Challenges the red head with a pleading yet stern display, understanding that Bucky means more to you then just simple companionship.

“There’s always a choice!” You grumble angrily, heart pounding a mile a minute as you huff before turning for the stairs only to meet a disheveled and deeply confused prince, he’s sweating and looks rather conflicted as his dark eyes scan frantically around the room for any sign of Bucky.

Suddenly his eyes land on you, freezing in place, your mind swirls with what to do next; you’re a wanted criminal in plain sight and for some reason this prince wants Bucky and presumably you, dead.

Shifting your panicked gaze over to Nat, you shake your head before turning to T’Challa as you scowl like an angry brute, “If you touch me, I’ll gut you.” And with that heavy threat do you swiftly turn on your heels and race out the closest door and into the nearest hallway. Leaving Natasha and prince T’Challa with their lives.

Now where did Bucky go?

Running past door after door while the emergency lights annoyingly scream their bright red colors in caution of extreme danger, though you and Bucky are technically the “extreme danger”. Soon you take a hard right turn and immediately slam into the firm chest of Steve as he books it down the hallway for some door hanging open at the far end.

Falling into the closest wall, you don’t have time to wait on the pain emitting from your arm as he mutters a quick apology as the six foot two American hauls ass for the exit door. Recovering in no time, you press a bloody handprint against the wall before turning after Steve. Funny, you don’t ever remember cutting yourself on anything. Doesn’t matter.

Bursting open the cracked door, bright blinding rays of sunlight glare annoyingly in your eyes while your pupils adjust to the new terrain, soon your eyes catch the dramatic scene unfolding in front of you farther down on the helicopter landing area.

Perplexed, you stand in astonishment as Bucky attempts to take off in the chopper while Steve fruitfully leaps mid-air before tightly grasping onto the aircraft’s landing skids.

He pulls down hard, face straining in intense efforts to keep Bucky from escaping and heading into God-knows-where. Legs moving quickly, you race up the small flight of stairs leading onto the huge landing pad as Steve struggles fiercely to hold it down.

But before you’re able to aid in putting an end to Bucky’s fruitful efforts, he slams the chopper into the cement; causing you to leap backwards for fear of getting your guts sliced open by the blades. You’re helpless to watch as Steve narrowly misses becoming a decapitated corpse as the blades crash violently against the ground.

Chunks of stone and steel go flying in all directions as you shield your face from the debris. But as the dust settles, you peer from over your forearm to watch as Bucky’s metal arm bursts through the glass only to immediately grasp around Steve’s neck.

“Fuck.” Slips silently from out of your lips as you take a couple cautious steps forward while moving reluctantly towards the shit show; how has the last 20 hours gone so goddamn terribly?

Creeeek. Sounds the destroyed helicopter as it suddenly begins a slow ascend over the platform edge, where a large river awaits with open arms to presumably swallow whole the broken aircraft. Now in a panicked sprint, you race over the rubble as the last of the chopper, Bucky, and Steve are seen before they plummet to the waters below.

“No!” You cry helplessly as you reach the peak of the landing, nothing beneath you except for the broken tail of the chopper and a plethora of air bubbles.

-

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes​ @iamasimpingh0e

[placentafluid]

I know you've already joined but it's only fair I give you the rest of my inane rambling. anyway I hate tim allen for being the protagonist of this movie. I would watch far more than 90 minutes of Kozak being an evil scientist dogboy because he's my beloved dogboy bf I love him. this was all a ruse to get people talking about Kozak and bring him into the spotlight. fanart, fanfic, etc. now you know the truth. I'm desperate for content but nobody knows this movie let alone the character and that is a crime against humanity. in this essay I will-

tim allen shut the fuck up challenge when we had one greasy tricky slimeball Kodak right at our fingertips!?!?!?!? this movies a fucking trip. and i love it. i love it you don’t understand.

i have loved these movies since i was a kid and yes there are multiple, just not with Tim and RDJ. theres The Shaggy Dog(1959) and The Shaggy D.A.(1976) and they’re. thEYRE SO GOOD i can’t even explain them correctly because i am VIBRATIFN rn i’ve been waiting for people who like this franchise so badly

In the other movies, theres this ring from the house of borgia that’s either accidentally taken or stolen from a museum, and curses the person who reads the inscription on the ring (in canis corpore transmuto) and turns them into a dawg. i’m telling you this only because i am insanely in love with these movies and have done. too much research. from what i’ve gathered, the ring is actually from lucrezia borgia, a member of the borgia family she slays. historically none of this is accurate, she just poisoned people with a ring, idk where we got the dog story from it might be because they used to torture their prisoners and slaves into thinking they were dogs ITS REALLY DARK I APOLOGIZE but disney went Hey wait.

i don’t know WHO at disney thought ‘yes this would make a great comedy’ but i LOVE them. ok it’s also based off of a polish book about a man who is a dog during the day and a man during the night i believe. the book is called The Hound of Florence by Felix Salten. Never read it. It’s also super dark.

What i LOVE about the 2006 movie is that it throws all of that out the door and brings in Kozak. i love kozak so much. he’s the best character this movie has i love him!!!?!?!?!))?’b hes great. i would do the same thing in his position. i just wish he hadn’t gone to jail (half joking). I haven’t watched it in almost a year which is unFORTUNATE. when i was a kid and the Dvd fast play would play before your movie? i saw the little trailer for the shaggy dog(2006) and i had wanted to watch it so badly, but i thought it was an adult movie bc it had tim allen in it. so i never asked if i could watch it. anyways

ok wait i’m reading ur ask over there’s FANFIC!:?!:?3!3?3$)3 THERS FANART!?:!3??3 WHERE HAVE YOU GUYS BEEN

[alirhi]

okay. let's do this shit.

Guess what, bitches? Mama bear's back and angry all over again. Remember when I said I might dive into a ragepost about how Bucky's treated after completing the one about Loki? This is it. This is the post. Welcome to fucking Thunderdome.

I will actually try to keep it civil. No promises, but I'll try. and I will not be accepting "constructive criticism" about my rage. Just so we're clear.

Got it? Good. Let's dive in.

In case you don't want to read the whole thing (I know I get wordy) here's what this whole post will boil down to: BUCKY NEVER HAD A FUCKING CHOICE. NEVER. NOT ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.

Now, quick reminder: I don't read comics. I know nothing about Bucky's comic canon, except what Sebastian liked to bring up as often as possible during TWS/CW promotions: at some point, Bucky boned Nat. XD Since Bucky only exists as a Marvel property, I won't be bitching about other source material being disrespected like I did with Loki. This is all MCU, my dudes. And honestly? That's enough, because though we don't see nearly enough of Bucky for my liking, we do manage to get a rich, deep backstory to him in the material we're given, partly thanks to better writing in the early days of the MCU, and partly thanks to Sebastian Stan's phenomenal acting. Unlike the writers of the Loki series, Seb knows how to show, not tell. And gods, what stories those eyes show...

Let's start with the army. In an old post illustrating what an absolute BAMF Bucky Barnes truly is, I mistakenly said he enlisted, and a kind soul educated me on the incredible attention to detail Marvel used to pay - in this case, Bucky's ID number. 32557038. As this kind, eagle-eyed soul pointed out to me, the first two digits of that number - 32 - signify that Bucky was drafted, specifically from the NY, NJ, DE area (that last part is rather obvious, as Bucky and Steve are from Brooklyn lol). Bucky didn't choose to go to war. He was drafted. He was forced to fight, or go to prison.

Bucky was born in 1917, which means - again, as someone pointed out to me a while back - he came of age during the Great Depression. As a child, he would likely have seen his parents living comfortably and able to shower each other and him and his sister with gifts and fun memories, and then POOF. Stock market crashes when he's only 12-years-old, and life becomes brutal and painful. He manages to have some fun with his best friend Steve, and spends his teens/early 20s chasing girls and keeping his stupid, stubborn, tiny friend from getting beaten to death.

Steve constantly has something to prove. He's absolutely got what my mom always called "little man's disease", and Bucky's just doing his best not to roll his eyes too much at this asthmatic chihuahua constantly trying to beat up Tibetan mastiffs. While Steve keeps lying on his enlistment forms (an actual crime) trying again and again to get into the army and prove what a badass he is (definitely not), Bucky's had enough trauma and upheaval in his life and he just wants his stupid friend to calm tf down and live. Enjoy the fact that he doesn't have to go to war and get his limbs blown off.

And then he gets fucking drafted. This sweet, resigned realist who knows exactly how dangerous the war really is, is forced to put on a uniform and go fight strangers alongside other strangers thousands of miles from everything he knows. And on his last night of freedom, when he just wants to hang out with his friend, see some cool gadgets, and dance with a pretty girl, his stupid angry chihuahua friend feels the need to lie and try to enlist again.

Okay. Gotta get back on track. Ragepost about mistreatment of Bucky, not how much Steve annoys me. Sorry. Anyway...

Bucky's drafted, accepts his shitty lot with a brave smile, and is shipped off to Europe, where he is captured by HYDRA and presumed by the Allies to be KIA. Instead, he's strapped down, tortured, and given the HYDRA version of the super serum against his will. Steve rescues him, and Bucky knows he can't leave his idiot friend to his own devices to get his head blown off, so he dives right back into the fray. And then he falls off a cliff, loses most of his left arm, and is declared dead...again. This one's pretty damn valid, though lol. Without the serum no one knew he'd been shot up with, there is no way he would have survived that fall.

Here is where Bucky's story gets truly heartbreaking: His autonomy, his ability to consent is stripped from him through electroshock torture/brainwashing. The trigger words are conditioned into him during this process, and boom. Ten words in Russian, and Bucky Barnes is gone. Even the confused, hurting shadow of him is gone, leaving only a perfectly obedient killing machine, with Bucky's pretty face. He's strong as all hell, though, so they can't keep him fully under their control for long, not without more torture, when the disorientation of being fucking frozen wears off on longer missions.

I cannot stress this point enough, guys: Bucky. Had. No. Choice. Not like the draft, where his choices (go and get shot at, refuse and go to jail, or dodge and run to Canada) just suck. No, he literally didn't have a choice. He had his ability to choose stripped from him. If that's too complex a concept to really sink in, try this: His brain was fucking raped. Repeatedly. For decades. Nothing the Winter Soldier ever did was Bucky's fault. Nothing. Ever. Not remotely, no matter how you fucking slice it. Bucky is not an assassin. I almost said "not a killer", but he was a soldier, and a sharpshooter. He definitely killed when he was himself, but that was in a war, not a series of assassinations.

So far, imo, so good. This is just a rundown of Bucky's pre-show backstory. I don't love what he had to suffer, but I do love how it was treated in the movies. People were afraid of him, but when they knew the whole situation, Steve, Nat, and Sam rallied behind him. Natasha had plenty of reason to want the Winter Soldier dead; he'd tried to kill her multiple times and almost succeeded. Sam had no reason to help Bucky at all; he didn't know him, didn't trust him, and again, TWS had tried to kill him. But he stood by Steve, and when Bucky showed the clear difference between himself and TWS, Sam stood by him, too, and fought alongside him.

And it's very realistic, imo, that Tony didn't give a single fuck that Bucky had no choice. He watched this man murder both of his parents on tape. If TWS had killed my dad and I saw proof of it, I'd try to kill Bucky, too. Grief wins out over logic. Most emotions usually do. And that's a very important point we're going to come back to in a few minutes.

Bucky was really only in like ten minutes at most of IW and Endgame, and for multiple reasons I hate those movies, so I'm just gonna skip them, kay? Kay. On to the main event!

Here's where I get pissed off. Even if I didn't have an unhealthy attachment to this character, or the depth of appreciation for his tragic backstory that I do, the lack of continuity between the movies and the show alone would still piss me off. It always does. Don't even get me started on Joss "Continuity? What continuity?" Whedon and his (iconic, but flawed) shows. Ahem. Back on track...

Let me just get one little thing out of the way real quick: I fucking LOVE The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I love it. This show amazed me when I first watched it, and I still love it after many more viewings lol. I have only ever watched it all the way through without skipping over as much John Walker shit as possible the one time lol but I love how Sam and Bucky interact, and I fucking adore how Sam's arc was treated. I just wish they'd show the same care and attention to Bucky.

Because what they did to Bucky in this show is a fucking travesty. There was a tiny ray of hope in the pilot, when he called out Dr. Bitchface for being a terrible shrink. I thought that would be the start of him realizing he needed to find someone else and ignore the damaging shit that woman was telling him. But...nope. No such luck.

The show really had a strong start, I'll give it that. We see Bucky having nightmares of his time as TWS and struggling to hide how his traumatic memories are affecting him as he tries to live in the world again. He befriends the father of one of HYDRA's victims, which can't be good for Bucky (and we're shown it's definitely not when he sees the shrine in Yori's home to his late son) but it's sweet, how he's trying to connect and reach out to someone who's hurting and lonely.

They drop the ball a little with the whole... Bucky can hack a fucking car, but can't figure out Tinder thing. Had they just run with the fandom interpretation of the tiger photos line, that it shows that Bucky is bi and left it at that, I'd have been okay with it (and no, that is not because I ship Sam/Bucky. it's because Bucky is and always has been a certified nerd who loves technology and has consistently shown very little issue learning to use new gadgets). The outdated flip phone he handed his terrible court-mandated shrink was a burner; I liked that theory when I read it, especially since it's the only time we see him even holding a phone that old lol. This all could have fit the "Bucky is a sassy bisexual nerd" narrative and it'd be okay. Instead, the director was like "NOOOOOO that line was just to show how old he is and how he can't figure out all this newfangled technology!" Woman, you had him remotely driving someone else's vehicle with a tablet. That is NOT a man who can't figure out a damn smart phone!

But that's just a minor annoyance. What fills me with absolute rage is how everyone - not just the shitty therapist who lashes out at and purposely triggers her traumatized patients, but EVERYONE - Sam, Zemo, people who should fucking know better ALL treat him like he's a psychopath and a ticking time bomb. Like he chose to take the serum and he chose to kill for HYDRA, and he's just seen the error of his ways. *barf*

Bucky in the movies is established to be a victim, through and through. His guilt over what he was forced to do is natural, and that he sees himself as a monster makes sense... but that doesn't mean it's correct. The one and only thing I ever liked about Steve Rogers is at least he got it. He pointed out that none of it was Bucky's fault, he tried to show him that he was worth saving. That's the other reason I refuse to talk about Endgame. This post will get a WHOLE LOT LONGER and a lot fucking angrier if I open that door.

Zemo supposedly knows everything about HYDRA and super soldiers... So why does he treat Bucky like he's a corrupt serial killer? (this, for the record, is why I don't like Zemo) Why does he never point out that Bucky was given the serum against his will, or that his actions, when he had control of them, proved that he was never corrupted? Bucky never wanted to become superhuman. Bucky didn't even want to fucking fight!

Sam, despite constantly resisting the label, is shown very clearly to be Bucky's friend. By episode 3, he cares. He worries about how Bucky is getting lumped in with the other super soldiers in Zemo's speech... But he never really defends him. He says "what about Bucky?" but he doesn't point out that Bucky's a good man, he's fought so hard to help people, he does everything he can to avoid killing... And that fucking speech in episode 5. I was with him on "you gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." I was like "YEAH! Tell him, Sam! Bucky, you're WORTH SAVING, boo! Your value does not hinge on someone else's opinion of you!" And then... Sam dropped the ball.

He not only continued the disturbing pattern of victim-blaming in this show, and in Marvel/Disney properties in general, but he gave really dangerously bad advice! No one in their right mind, mental health professional or no, would EVER tell a traumatized former assassin (whether he was responsible for his actions or not) to go confront his victims' families out of the blue with no warning and no one to mediate and keep things from going to shit. Yori already knew his son had been murdered because he was in the "wrong place, wrong time." How is it being "of service" to tell him you're the one who killed him?! Remember how I said Tony's reaction to learning the full truth about his parents' deaths was valid and would be an important point later? Hi! Welcome to later. THAT is the natural reaction to facing the man who murdered your loved one(s). And even if Yori didn't get angry and lash out, HOW IS IT "HELPING" HIM OR BRINGING HIM "CLOSURE" TO KNOW THAT HIS FRIEND KILLED HIS FUCKING SON?!?!?! This man befriended him, bonded with him, watched him grieve... And now he's learning this is the man who caused all his pain and heartache to begin with? That is so toxic and psycho I just... I can't even... UGH.

And then there's the equally toxic and damaging "deeply traumatized person just needed a stern talking to and a hug to be ALL BETTER AGAIN" ending. I loved seeing Bucky happy and socializing, but it was too soon, and it was unearned. And it sends a fucking awful message to people actually struggling with PTSD, and to their loved ones who don't know how to help them. Heaping more blame on them and then hugging it out is NOT helpful!

This show could have been damn near perfect with just two changes. That's all. Just two. 1) Someone, anyone, bringing up the reasons why Bucky was never a villain in his presence. Someone being in his corner and reminding him, like Steve did, that it wasn't his fault and he's not going to "snap". 2) More time devoted to Bucky's healing. Actual fucking healing, not the shit they tried to pass off as a magic fix-all. He can have his happy barbecue moment, just don't frame it as "everything's great now!" Healing isn't linear, and there will be both good days and bad. Some of the most fragile people in the world have the brightest smiles.

If we get a season 2, which this amazing show absolutely deserves, and they address this stuff, all will be forgiven in my book. Expanding on his story and his journey toward healing will help to reframe that "happily ever after" garbage as something more realistic. But as it stands now... Fuck Marvel.

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

WATCH OUT

(PLEASE DON’T REBLOG!)

Warnings: heartbreak, betrayal.

Pairing: Zuko x f!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Aang, Katara, Toph, Sokka.

Requested: Yes!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: Part three of “destiny is a funny thing”

find part two here!

A/N: Hullo! i’m back to blow your minds again, lol. The request for this came within, like, five minutes of posting the last part. So thanks to @zvkonation​. I’m glad you guys seem to enjoy it. I hope this part will be to your liking. Altough i think it’s a bit of a mess haha.

“Hello, Zuko here!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered upon the sight of him. Team Avatar formed a half-circle, ready to fight.

You hadn’t seen him since the battle in the Crystal Catacombs, and you’d wanted it to stay that way. After his betrayal it took some time to look ahead. To stop dwelling on it and accept that it was over. Of course you had to tell the others what had happened at some point. And you did. From the fight with Jet, to their false identities, and about the tea shop. Everything but the fact that you harbored feelings for their worst enemy.

“I heard you guys flying around down there, so... I just thought i’d wait for you here,” No one responded. No one but Appa, whose gigantic tongue greeted the prince one second later. Zuko groaned at the caress, but he didn’t reject it. “I know you must be surprised to see me here,”

“Not really, since you followed us all over the world,” Sokka answered defensively, already reaching for his weapon.

“Right... Well uh... Anyway. What i wanted to tell you about is that i’ve changed, and i’m good now. And, well, i think i should join your group. Oh! and i can teach firebending to the Avatar,” He continued.

Changed. There it was again. The gaang remained silent, not giving up their fighting stances. Now the Air Temple could become a war zone at any second.

“You wanna, what now?” Toph was the first one to recover. Her face was scrunched up, black strands dangling in front of her forehead. "We all know what happened the last time you 'changed'," You sneered, raising your hands. "(Y/N), please-," This time he was the one pleading, but you wouldn't have it. You didn't want to waste any more time with him. "Save your explanation for someone who cares!" Flames appeared in your palms, burning from within.

“You can’t possibly think that any of us would trust you, can you? I mean how stupid do you think we are?” Katara wasn’t acting any calmer than in their last encounter. And rightfully so. You’d witnessed the conflict firsthand and empathised with her pain. Both of you had fallen for his trap at the same time.

“Yeah, all you’ve ever done is try to hunt us down and capture Aang,” Sokka threw in. ��And besides, (Y/N) is a fire bender. She can teach him,” You pursed your lips, but remained silent. He was right. You could teach Aang. But would that truly be enough? You doubted it. All your techniques were mainly made up from watching other fire benders in your childhood. You’d never had a real teacher. If you were honest to yourself, Zuko was probably the better choice. But the risk of him killing your student made up for it.

“I’ve done some good things! I helped (Y/N) after she got attacked by Jet! Right?” The prince argued, gesturing wildly. He caught your gaze, hoping for some kind of support. But he was met with indifference. "You didn't even know that I was with the Avatar back then," You argued, growing more impatient by the second. Zuko quickly came up with another story. “I could’ve stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but i set him free! That's something,” The animal proceeded to lick him again, growling fondly.

“Appa does seem to like him,” The earth-bender said, relaxing her stance slightly. Her features softened. “He probably just covered himself in honey or something, so that Appa would lick him. I’m not buying it!” Sokka declined, making a cutting motion through the air, to underline his statement.

“I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me. And i know i’ve made some mistakes in the past,” Zuko acknowledged, lowering his gaze. The slight breeze tugged at his garments. For the first time since you’d known him, he wore Fire Nation clothing. The ruby red, mixed with gold and black, revealed his true heritage. His was a simple robe, instead of the royal attire you would’ve expected. Just like yours.

“Like when you attacked our village?” Your friend asked, sarcastically. “Or when you stole my mother’s necklace and used it to track us down and capture us?” His sister balled her fists, barely able to hold back. “Or when you betrayed us in the Catacombs?” You hissed.

Seeing him again was unbearable. Unbelievable. It was like the past came back to haunt you all over again. Every time you looked at him, it reminded you of the horror you'd faced. Of Aang dying in your arms. And he just wouldn’t stop trying. “Look, i admit i’ve done some awful things. I was wrong to try to capture you and to betray you. I’m sorry that i attacked the water tribe. And i never should’ve send that Fire Nation Assassin after you. I’m going to try to stop-,”

“Wait! You sent Combustion-Man after us?” One sibling interrupted, his voice getting a few octaves higher. Your eyes widened. The others seemed no less shocked, than you. Just when you’d thought it couldn’t get any worse... It did. “Well, that’s not his name, but-” Zuko tried to explain, but clearly focused on the wrong point. “Oh, sorry, i didn’t mean to insult your friend,” Sokka scoffed, holding up his boomerang. Now there was one more reason not to trust him. How many more would he add? You weren’t eager to find out. “He’s not my friend!” The fire bender exclaimed, bewildered. “That guy locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up!” Toph pointed an accusatory finger at him. He lowered his eyes, closing them briefly.

You said nothing, only staring at him, until he looked up. “(Y/N)...” He tried, his eyes softening, but you shook your head. He looked terribly lost. So lost that you almost believed him. But where love once was now resided resentment and anger. His lies were revolting. You wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” He redirected his attention to Aang. “You once said you thought we could be friends. You know i have good in me,” Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sokka shake his head at him.

“There’s no way we can trust you after everything you’ve done. We’ll never let you join us,” The Avatar decided. “You need to get out of here. Now!” The water bender ordered, her locks framing her face like a thundercloud. “I’m trying to explain that i’m not that person anymore!” His desperate tone made your heart clench. You had to look away.

“Either you leave, or we attack!” Sokka stepped forward, boomerang gripped tightly.

Zuko sunk to his knees. "If you won’t accept me as a friend, then maybe you’ll take me as a prisoner,”

“No. We won’t!” Katara unleashed a splash of water, knocking him back. “Get out of here and don’t come back. And if we ever see you again... Well, we better not see you again!”

The air was tense as he walked off. Your fear didn’t subside.

How long would it take for his next strike to hit you?

And how many more could you take?

“Why would he try to fool us like that?” Katara questioned a while later. “Obviously he wants to lead us in some kind of trap,” Her brother stated, following her deeper into the temple. Aang and you trailed after them silently. “This is just like when we were in prison together in Ba Sing Se. He starts talking about his mother and making it seem like he’s an actual human being with feelings,” Her words hurt. But you had to admit that she spoke the truth. The tender moments you’d had with him would stay until the end of time, pointing out your failure. Your naivety. When you thought about him, you felt nothing but rage and pain making your stomach twist.

“He want’s you to trust him and feel sorry for him. Then you let your guard down and he strikes!” Sokka said gesturing furiously. His short ponytail wiggled along with his movements. “The thing is, it worked,” Katara put her sleeping bag down, kneeling to roll it out. “I did feel sorry for him. I felt like he was really confused and hurt. But, obviously, when the time came he made his choice. And we payed the price. We can’t trust him,” You nodded, hugging your own bag to your chest. “I believed everything he told me, when i lived with them. He was nice. And then he turned around and stabbed me in the back,” His amber eyes had seemed so genuine at the time... So loving. But it was all a game. A pastime as long as you were around, only to throw you away later. He’d made his choice. And you hadn’t been enough to be choosen. The memories left a burning feeling in your chest.

“I kind of have a confession to make,” the Avatar cut in. “Remember when you got sick and i got captured by Zhao?” You all ignored Sokka’s rant about Aang making him suck on frozen frogs. His poor sister had taken a look at his throat multiple times before. And to be honest, you all had. Involuntarily.

“Anyway. When Zhao had me chained up, it was Zuko who came in and got me out. He risked his life to save me,” You furrowed your brows. This was the last thing you wanted to hear about. What even was the point? Listing the few good deeds he seemed to have done, wouldn’t undo the mistakes. “No way! I’m sure he only did it so he could capture you himself,” Katara dismissed his idea. “Yeah! Face it Aang, You’re nothing but a big price to him,” Her brother agreed. “And what was all that crazy stuff about setting Appa free? What a liar,” The siblings had choosen a clear position in this debate. It didn’t really surprise you that they had each others backs. And so did you.

“Actually, he wasn’t lying,” Toph chimed in, leaning against a pillar connected to the ceiling. “Oh, hurray! In a lifetime of evil, at least he didn’t add animal cruelty to the list,” She paid no mind to Sokka’s antics and remained calm. “I’m just saying that, considering his messed up family and how he was raised, he could’ve turned out a lot worse,” You didn’t know why she would vouch for him, but you wouldn’t put her down. The sooner this discussion was over, the better. “You’re right, Toph. Let’s go find him and give him a medal! The ‘Not as much of a jerk as you could’ve been’ Award!” Katara mocked, spreading her arms in frustration. The earth bender crossed her arms, relying on her factual point of view. “All i know is, that while he was talking to us, he was sincere. Maybe you’re all just letting your hurt feelings keep you from thinking clearly,”

The group continued to bicker back and forth. “Why would you even try to defend him?” Toph pushed herself off the column, walking up to them. “Because, Katara, you’re all ignoring one crucial fact. Aang needs a fire bending teacher. It’s true, we have (Y/N), but she was never trained herself. And she never denied that she doesn’t have much knowledge about most techniques. And then another one shows up on a silver platter and you won’t even consider it?” She stomped. The rest of them turned to look at you, but you only shrugged. She was right. You’d been open with them from the beginning. “I admit that i don’t have as much... deep understanding for it as others may have. But i’m willing to give my best,”

Your reasoning seemed to be enough for the Avatar to pass. “I’m not having Zuko as my teacher,” he said. “You’re damn right, you’re not, buddy.” Sokka crossed his arms. “Well, i guess that’s settled,” You agreed. Toph grunted in frustration. “I’m beginning to wonder who’s really the blind one around here,”

The girl ranted as she walked away, only to return one day later, with burned soles.

“Toph! What happened?” She’d crawled in on her stomach, feet in the air. The front of her clothes was completely stained with dirt. Or as she liked to call it, a ‘healthy coating of earth’. ‘“My feet got burned,” Katara immediatly looked at the outcome. The skin was red and tender. Too sensitive to be touched. “Oh no! What happened?” You had no idea where she’d been all day, but considering the argument about a certain fire bender, a suspicion formed in your head. “I just told you, my feet got burned,” The brunette furrowed her brows. “I meant, how?” She hesitated, but answered while Katara used her healing powers to save whatever she could. “Well, i kind of went to see Zuko last night,” Your hunch got confirmed. The gaang was shocked to say the least. “See? You trusted Zuko and you got burned. Literally!” Sokka scolded, as he and Aang proceeded to carry Toph to the little fountain where she could stick her feet into the water. “Now i know how the rest of you feel. Not being able to see with your feet stinks,” You chuckled at her words, moving to stand behind her and putting your hands on her shoulders. She was like a little sister to you. And there was no doubt that you would make Zuko pay for what he'd done to her, should you ever see him again.

To your own dismay, that happened sooner than you’d expected.

A few seconds later to be exact.

“Watch out!” You yelled, spotting the assassin, as an explosion shook the temple. The man stood on a platform above, shooting at you. Or, to be precise, at Aang.

“Stop!” You weren’t that surprised to see Zuko next to him. The shock came more with the words he was saying. “I don’t want you hunting the Avatar anymore!” He commanded, but it was of no use. The boys grabbed Toph, making sure she was safe between them, as you all hid behind what was left of the fountain. “The mission is off! I’m ordering you to stop!” But no matter what he said, he was only cast aside. “I won’t pay you, if you keep attacking!” The prince kept trying to get to him. Not even his flames seemed to impress the man. “I’ll pay you double to stop!”

The assassin didn’t stop. Instead he aimed at Zuko himself. Your heart stopped for a second when he conjured flames around him to escape the attack. Then he was gone. Peaking over the stones you hid behind, you could faintly spot a silhouette clinging to the braches below.

You used the opening, screamed as you ran forward, throwing fireballs at the assassin with all your might. You couldn’t let him kill the prince. That task was already reserved for you, personally. The Avatar soon joined you, producing a cyclone. But neither that, nor Katara’s ice spikes could stop him. Everything you threw at him, he shrugged off. And he continued to destroy the temple in the process. “He’s going to blast this whole place right off the cliffside!” Toph shouted over the noise. “I can’t get out to water bend at him without getting blown up,” Katara stated, when you all covered behind a wall. You dared to poke your head out for a second, but you couldn’t see anything before he took another shot. “I can’t get an angle on him from down here,”

The Team was at a loss, until Sokka seemed to have an idea. “I know how to get an angle on him!” He followed the line of fire with his eyes, and took the chance, flinging his boomerang. And he hit. The assassin stumbled on his feet, trying to shoot once more, only to go down in the process.

The platform under him exploded, erasing what remained of him. 

Raising your head you could see Zuko managing to get back up.

He’d made it.

“I can’t believe i’m saying this, but thanks, Zuko,” Aang stood in between all of you, being the first to greet him. “Hey, what about me? i did the boomerang thing,” Sokka said, striking a pose. You raised a brow at him, but gave him a pat on the shoulder, which seemed to raise his spirits.

“Listen, i know i didn’t explain myself very well yesterday. I’ve been through a lot in the past three years. It’s been hard. But i’m realizing that i had to go through all those things to learn the truth. I thought i had lost my honor and that somehow my father was the only one who could return it to me. But i know now that no one can give you your honor. It’s something you earn for yourself, by choosing to do what’s right. All i want now is to play my part in ending this war. And i know my destiny is to help you restore balance in the world,” He turned and bowed to Toph. A traditional sign of respect in the Fire Nation. “And i’m sorry for what i did to you. It was an accident. Fire can be dangerous and wild. So as a firebender i need to be more careful and control my bending, so i don’t hurt people unintentionally,”

You clenched your hands at your sides. He didn’t even need his bending to hurt people. And to your horror, Aang seemed to be considering it.

“I think you are supposed to be my fire bending teacher. When i first tried to learn fire bending, i hurt Katara. And after that, i never wanted to fire bend again. (Y/N) helped me overcome my innitial fear. And yet destiny keeps bringing us together. Now that i know you understand how easy it is to hurt the people you love, i can’t ignore that any longer,” He gifted Zuko with a bow of his own. “I’d like you to teach me,” The prince immitated his gesture. “Thank you. I’m so happy you’ve accepted me into your group,”

“Not so fast. I still have to ask my friends if it’s ok with them,” He turned back to face you. “Toph, you’re the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?” She sat on a rock next to you, shrugging. “Go ahead and let him join. It’ll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet,” Her motion clearly indicated that she would beat him up later. Thoroughly.

“Sokka?” The boy remained silent for a second, but eventually came around. “Hey, all i want is to defeat the Fire Lord. If you think this is the way to do it, then i’m all for it,” The Avatar smiled upon hearing his answer and nodded, hoping to gain more approval from the rest of you.

“Katara?” She wasn’t thrilled about the idea. She didn’t even bother to hide it. But she agreed for Aang’s sake. “I’ll go along with whatever you think is right,” The prince was ecstatic, a smile spreading on his face. “I won’t let you down, i promise!”

Everyone seemed to agree.

“And (Y/N)?” Aang looked at you with curious eyes, ready to hear your opinion. You could see Zuko breaking a sweat behind him, as you glared at his face. “I’m sorry Aang, but i can’t be a part of the group. Not if he is,” You said, flames coming to life around your fists. “But i do want to stay by your side. So i’ll prove to you that i am the better choice,” Passing the Avatar you walked up to the prince, until his face was only centimeters apart from yours.

“Prince Zuko,” Your tone was sharper than a knife. “I challenge you to an Agni Kai,”

on to part four!

tags: @zvkonation​ @viva-la-millennia​ @randomness501​ @drheinzd​ @kaylove12​  @duh-dobrik​ @yeetscreetiwannaeat​  @ashnkamfeun @hailkyoshi​ @shortmexicangirl​​

(if you want to be added/removed from any taglist, please tell me in the comments)

[elianamarie-blog]

The Things You Give Pt 12

zSteven Hyde x Reader

Thank you all for being so patient! I’m so happy you guys are enjoying the story :) 

Y/N sat in her room, crying on Hyde’s shoulder.

“Hey, doll, it’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing her back and caressing her hair. “He’ll get over it and we’ll all go back to being friends.”

“That’s not the only reason,” she whined and leaned back, showing him her big, puffy eyes. “I feel like our bond is destroyed.”

“It’s not, man,” he responded and tucked some hair behind her ear, stroking her face. “Look, Eric is just pissed off right now. Give him a couple days to cool off and he’ll come around.”

“No, you don’t get it. He’s never been this mad at me before. We’ve always been okay after a few hours, but not this long. I feel like I ruined it.”

“He’s your brother,” he said. “He loves you and he can’t stay mad at you long. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Y/N pouted and nodded, tears resurfacing. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, chuckling.

“For getting you in this mess.”

“Hey, don’t think that,” he said sternly. “I got us in this mess as much as you. It’s not just your fault.”

She sniffed. “Why is it that our happiness only matters when everyone else approves?”

He sighed, holding her tight. “I don’t know, Doll.”

She hummed and fell silent, thinking about how she could fix this.

                                   ⧝⧝⧝

           “So, how’s the baby?” Jackie asked Kelso as they all sat in the basement. This time, Eric joined them but was he was extremely and eerily quiet. Y/N sat on the floor, situated between Hyde’s legs as he sat in his usual chair. Eric sat on the opposite side of the room, not bothering to glance at the couple.

           “She’s doing good,” Kelso beamed. “She’s so cute like me, but also beautiful like Brooke.”

           “Oh, that is so cute!” Y/N gushed. “When can we meet her?”

           “Probably not for another month or so,” Kelso pouted. “Brooke doesn’t want her near other people right now because of cold and flu season. I even offered to give her some orange juice because my mom always gives me it when I’m sick and she got mad at me!”

           “Kelso, you can’t give a baby orange juice,” Donna said casually.

           “Yeah, huh,” he replied, sucking on a popsicle. “If she can handle milk, she should be able to handle orange juice.”

           “Yes, it’s probably best to have Brooke make all the parenting decisions,” Fez said.

           “But, I’m her daddy,” he said sadly. “I just want her to know that I’m smart and love her too.”

           “Awe, Kelso,” Y/N cooed. “Of course, she’s going to know that. She’s going to look up to you and when she’s older, she’s going to think you’re her hero. I know I do with my dad.”

           “Don’t lie to the guy,” Hyde said without looking away from the tv. “She’s going to be doing dumb stuff with him too. Probably be the brains behind it all and watch him get hurt.”

           For a minute Kelso looked offended but then smiled and laughed. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”

           “You’re going to be great. Don’t worry,” Y/N said.

           “Don’t flatter him,” Hyde said, but with a smirk.

           “Why?” Eric piped up. “You afraid that she’ll date him too?”

           “Really?” Y/N asked, annoyed. “You’re going to do this now?”

           “I just don’t understand how anyone of you can sit here and think this is okay. Or normal,” Eric replied without looking up.

           “Forman, man, will you shut up?” Hyde said. “It’s been two days.”

            “I know you’re still mad at us, but your snide remarks aren’t welcome,” Y/N quipped.

           “I’m not welcome?” Eric asked, angrily.

           “No, dumbass that’s not what I’m—”

           “No, I know what you’re saying,” he said darkly. “You know what? You’re not welcome.”

            Y/N rolled her eyes at him; completely done with his dramatics. “Don’t be stupid, Eric.”

           “No, you and him aren’t welcome.”

           “I live here too, you moron,” Hyde said. “Where do you expect us to go?”

           “Anywhere but here,” Eric replied, staring daggers at the couple. “I don’t care as long as I don’t have to see you.”

           “Yeah? And what’re you going to do? Force us out?” Hyde pushed. “A spaghetti noodle is stronger than you!”

           “If I tell Red you will,” Eric said, setting his jaw. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I’m okay with this.”

           “Eric, shut up,” Donna said. “You’re being an ass.”

           “You’re blackmailing us?” Y/N asked, making a face.

           “Damn right. Either you leave or Dad finds out.”

           “You tell Dad and I’ll tell him about your trip to the jail cell!”

           “But this is an abomination!” Eric squeaked. “Sinful, disgusting, horrible!”

           “You done?” Hyde asked, annoyed.

           “I’m not doing this in front of everyone,” Y/N said. “I just want to hang out with our friends without arguing.”

           “No, I want you guys out of here,” he said. “Out of this group. You don’t get to be a part of it if you’re going to split it up.”

           “How are we splitting it up?!” Y/N shouted, getting angry. “This isn’t West Side Story.”

           “Stop, Eric!” Donna said, standing up. “Just because you don’t want them here doesn’t mean we don’t.”

           “Thank you, Donna,” Y/N said.

           “What the hell? You’re on their side?” Eric asked, raising his voice.

           “Yes, I am!” she shouted back. “Why shouldn’t I be? They’re our friends and if you’d open your eyes, you’d see that they’re really happy.”

           “I don’t care if they’re happy!” he shouted.

           “How can you say that?” Fez asked. “You selfish son of a bitch.”

           “How am I supposed to be happy when I had to hear you describe how my sister is in bed?!”

           “I don’t care what you say. It was hilarious,” Hyde said.

           “See? How can I care when you two obviously do not?” Eric shouted.

           “At least you heard about it,” Donna argued. “I saw it.”

           “Ew!” Eric shouted, covering his ears.

           “Alright!” Kelso shouted happily. “How were Y/N’s boobs?”

           “Shut up, Kelso!” Eric, Y/N, Hyde, and Donna said un unison.

           “I can’t and I won’t ever accept it,” Eric spat.

           “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not dating to impress you,” Hyde snorted.

           A sudden weight had dropped itself on Y/N’s chest. Her heart felt like it was barley holding up it’s own weight. “So, what are you saying? You want us to break up?”

           Eric didn’t respond, but stare at the ground harshly. He knew if he said it, he would be labeled the king of jackasses of all eternity.

           “You really are a selfish son of a bitch,” Y/N said and stomped out of the basement.

           “What the hell is wrong with you?” Hyde asked him. “Why do you have to be such a dillhole?”

           “I’m the dillhole?!” Eric asked, surprised. “How am I the dillhole when you’re the one who lied to me while screwing my sister?!” He gagged at the thought and thickly swallowed. “Unpleasant.”

           “Well, you know what, Forman? Get the hell over it. You always say that she deserves someone who is good for her. And you know what? That’s what I am.”

           “No, you’re not!” Eric shouted, silencing the whole room, including Hyde himself. The look on Hyde’s face made Eric break his gaze and turn around, rubbing his neck.

           Hyde stood there in complete shock as pain flooded through his chest. But it was quickly replaced with anger. Donna looked at her boyfriend with absolute disgust. Everyone else looked at each other with wide eyes and jaws dropped.

           Hyde didn’t know what to say, except for a harsh, “What?”

           “I didn’t stutter, did I?”

           Hyde’s breathing became labored and all he could do was stay frozen in place.

           “You’re not good enough for her,” Eric continued calmly and darkly. “She is going places. The only place you’re going to is prison.”

           “Eric!” Donna shouted. “That’s enough!”

           “So, that’s what you really think of me,” Hyde stated as fact instead of a question. “This whole time you’re supposed to be my friend, all you’ve thought about me is not doing anything with my life.”

           “Look at how your life has turned out so far!” Eric continued. “You’ve already been to jail multiple times, all you do is smoke, and not once have I heard what you plan on doing with your life besides staying a burnout. That’s no life for my sister.” He daringly stepped closer to Hyde and pointed a finger at him. “And don’t you dare tell me how to be a friend. Friends don’t do this.”

           All Hyde could do was glare at the guy in front of him with clenched fists. He wanted to punch him so bad, but he knew it would only make the situation worse.

           “Eric, please tell me,” Donna piped up after a minute of silence. “What makes this any different than what Kelso was doing to Laurie?”

           “That’s different!” he answered. “Laurie is just a whore who ended up cheating on him anyway. Y/N…Y/N’s different. She actually feels and cares about the people in her life. And I’m not going to standby and watch you hurt her!”

           “And what makes you think Hyde is going to hurt her?” Donna pressed.

           “Because he’s done it to other girls! Including Jackie!”

           “Hey, don’t bring my name into this,” Jackie responded sassily. “And for the record, I broke up with him. No one dumps Jackie Burkhart.”

           “I don’t care how happy she makes you,” Eric continued, ignoring her. “Because sooner or later, you’re going to get bored of her and leave her hanging. Just like the other girls.”

           Hyde clenched his jaw, keeping his burning stare on Eric. “Go to hell, Forman!” he shouted. “You don’t know jack. At least I’m not the one who bailed after I asked her to marry me.”

           “Don’t you dare bring that up!” Eric yelled at Hyde, his voice deepening. “This isn’t about me!”

           “Now I’m making it about you!” Hyde yelled back. “You’re sitting here lecturing me about bailing and hurting Y/N when you couldn’t even do the same for Donna!” As he was shouting at Eric, spit had flown out of his mouth. “So, shut the hell up before I shut it up for you!”

           “I’m not the one dating my best friend’s sister!”

           “You’re still not better than me!” Hyde shouted back. “I would never do that to Y/N! I’ve never felt this way about anybody before and I refuse to let you stand in the way of that!”

           “No!” Eric was huffing and puffing at this point. “I’ve stood by long enough letting you guys do whatever the hell you wanted! You’ve burned me, both physically and verbally, melted my freaking G.I Joes, gotten me in trouble with Red more times than I can count, and even let me sit in a freaking jail cell with no pants because everyone let me take the fall. This is where I cross the damn line.”

           “First of all, I ended up in that same jail cell after trenching old man Jenkin’s yard to make it up to you,” Hyde countered. “And second of all, I’ve always been there for you through every dumbass thing you caused or that happened to you. I’ve had to look after you all these years just to make sure you didn’t get your ass kicked.”

           “I never asked for any of that,” Eric responded, setting his jaw and crossing his arms.

           Hyde felt like he had been punched in the gut. He had spent years looking after Eric as he would if he were his own brother and for what? For Eric to throw it in his face? Hyde now felt like he had wasted so much time.

           “You know what? I’m outta here,” he said and stomped towards the door.

           “Good!” Eric shouted after him. “Go ahead! It proves to me what you’re good at: running away!”

           “If you’d like to keep your teeth, I’d suggest you’d shut the hell up!” Hyde shouted, veins popping out of his neck. “Consider this friendship over.” With that he slammed the door shut, causing the door hinges to rattle.

           Everyone stared at Eric with dropped jaws and disappointed, furrowed looks. Except for Donna. Only fire and fury burned in her eyes.

           Eric sighed and turned to her. “Look, Donna, I—”

           “Save it,” she said curtly. “I don’t want to hear it.”

           “But, I—” he tried to defend himself, but Donna cut him off once again.

           “I don’t care what your excuse is!” she snapped, raising her voice. “You’ve done a lot of stupid and messed up things and made yourself look like an ass, but this one tops it off. You were such a jackass that you made Kelso look like a saint!”

           “You know what? You’d be pissed too if you had a sister and Hyde was nailing her,” he defended.

           “Maybe, but I wouldn’t have reacted the way you did,” she replied. “I don’t care what is going on between them, the way you treated them was way out of line. And I can’t even look at you right now!”

           “Yeah, Eric,” Fez said and stood from his seat. “You kick them out of the group, but we still want them here. If anything, you should be the one to leave.”

           “Fez! What the hell?” Eric asked with his arms open and eyes wide. “How can you be on their side?”

           “Because they’re happy,” Fez answered with his cute and innocent self. “And they’re good together.”

           “Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Eric shouted.

           “Because it’s true, you walnut!” Donna practically screamed. “I can’t believe how unbelievably dumb and selfish you’re being! This isn’t even about you! In fact, it’s about them and if you’re going to keep acting this way, I don’t want to be near you.”

           “Does everyone feel this way?” he asked, exasperated.

           “Yeah, pretty much,” Jackie answered, nodding along with Kelso.

           “Well, that’s just great!” Eric shouted. “Then all of you can get out too.”

           “Gladly!” Donna shouted and stormed out.

           “See ya,” Jackie said, skipping out.

           “Dude…” Kelso trailed off, shaking his head and sulked out the basement.

           “Sorry, Eric,” Fez said and laid a hand on his shoulder. “If you weren’t such a jerk, you’d still have all your friends here. But now, you’re all alone.”

           “Yeah, yeah,” Eric said, brushing off his hand. “See ya later.”

           Fez frowned. “If you’d see past your anger, maybe you can see how happy they are and actually feel something towards each other. I wouldn’t call that a bad thing.”

           With that being said, Fez walked out the basement, gently shutting the door, leaving a seething Eric standing alone.

           “I heard yelling,” Kitty said concerned as she came down the stairs.

           “Yeah, there was,” Eric sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.

           “What happened this time?”

           “Y/N and Hyde are—” he stopped himself before he could cause any further collateral damage.

           Kitty stared at him confused. “Y/N and Steven are what, honey?”

           Eric sighed again, rubbing his neck and tried to keep his voice steady. “They are the most annoying people on the planet.”

           “Why’s that?”

           “Because they…” he couldn’t think of anything good to say on the spot, so he improvised the best he could. “They stole and broke my G.I Joes.”

           “And you’re yelling over that?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

           “Yeah…it was my favorite ones.”

           “Oh, honey, you can always go buy more,” she said, turning her back on him to head back up the stairs. “But I’ll talk to them.”

           She swayed back upstairs, leaving Eric completely alone. After she was out of sight, he collapsed onto the couch feeling completely spent. Why had he lied to Kitty about what they were fighting about? Why did he cover for them when he so badly wanted to tell her the truth?

           He slumped back into the cushions of the couch, sighing once again, but this time he didn’t have anything else to say. He was alone and he knew he had messed up.

                                                 --Time Skip—

           “So, you ended the friendship?” Y/N asked Steven, playing with his fingers. They sat at the Hub, waiting for everyone else to show up.

           Hyde sighed heavily and ran a hand through his curls. “Yeah, I did.”

           “Because of me,” Y/N whispered and looked away, letting out a shaky breath. She felt a heaviness settle in her stomach. Like an anvil had made its way inside. “Oh God, I’m so sorry Steven.”

           “No, no,” he replied and grabbed her hands, holding them firmly. “Don’t say that. It maybe about you, but I didn’t end the friendship because of you. I ended it because of him.”

           “But none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten in the way,” she whimpered. “I broke up a lifelong friendship.”

           “Hey, Y/N look at me,” he said and cupped her cheek. Her watery eyes met his. “Yeah, this sucks, but if I had to choose between being with you and keeping my friendship with your dillhole brother, I’d choose you. A thousand times over.”

           “But I’m not worth it,” she said, a stray tear escaping down her cheek. “I never meant for this to blow up the way it did. Maybe this was a mistake.”

           “You really feel that way?” Hyde asked, a sharp pain stabbing him in the chest. “Is that what you want?”

           “Of course not, but it’s caused so much damage to the group. We can’t even hang out anymore.”

           “If it wasn’t for Eric’s blow up, we’d all still be in the basement hanging out right now,” Hyde responded, ignoring the pain he was feeling. “The only person causing this is him.”

           “But it wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t hooked up!”

Hyde sighed through his nose. “Look, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and I’m not going to let it go just because some idiot wants me to. Only if you want me to.” He tilted her chin to make her look at him. “Do you want me to?”

           She was quiet for a moment, looking in his intense blue eyes. She could see the hope and fear that lay within and knew she couldn’t leave him; because she felt the same. She couldn’t ignore her pounding heart when she was near him, or the butterflies that would erupt in her stomach when he would say something sweet to her; like he is now. Or that settling safety that she felt when he had his arm around her.

Before, she felt a timer with Zack and any other guy she may had dated. She knew her time with them wouldn’t last and that timer continued to tick until their time was up. That is until she ended up with Steven. The timer had stopped and gone silent, and she knew he was going to stay. For the first time, she felt at peace and warmed by him. He was her home as she was his.

Y/N swallowed thickly before shaking her head. “No. No I don’t.” She gave him a small smile and his muscles relaxed, a smile reaching his eyes. “I choose you a thousand times over.”

           He smiled at her and grabbed her face gently between his hands. “Yeah, baby, a thousand times over.”

           As he leaned in to kiss her, a loud “Aweeee!” came from behind them.

            Y/N and Steven turned their heads to look at the group standing there, large grins plastered on their faces.

           “No, no, go on. Go ahead and kiss her,” Donna gushed and laughed, sitting at the table.

           Hyde and Y/N pulled away from each other and leaned back. “Moment ruined,” she commented.

           “How long were you guys standing there?” Hyde asked nervously.

           “Not long,” Donna responded and smirked at him. “’Baby.’”

           “I choose you a thousand times over,” Kelso mocked and started making kissy faces at Fez.

           “Man, what the hell are you doing?” Hyde asked.

           “I don’t know, but it’s funny,” Kelso responded and continued doing it.

            Y/N chuckled and shoved Kelso, making him laugh. “So, Fez, where’s Caroline? Haven’t seen her around.”

           “You probably scared her off,” Jackie laughed. “Finally someone who is crazier than her.”

           “Yeah, but she uses it for good,” Hyde said, smiling.

           “Actually, I broke up with her,” Fez replied. “She tried to stab me again.”

           “Wait, again?” Y/N asked. “What do you mean by ‘again’?”

           “Well, she tried to stab me once before and I told her that a man can only take so much,” he replied. “So, after the fourth or fifth time, I finally left.”

           The group looked at each other concerned while Y/N fumed. “I’m gonna go find her.” She stood from her chair, but Hyde quickly grabbed her hand.

           “No need,” Fez replied calmly, a smug look painting his handsome face, watching as Y/N sat back down. “I put her back in the mental ward.”

           “How did you do that?” Hyde asked.

           “I called the police, duh,” he responded.

           “How did all this happen and not any of us know?” Donna asked concerned.

           “Well, I didn’t get the chance with the whole Y/N, Hyde, and Eric dramatics.”

           “What the hell?” Y/Nasked, furrowing her brows. “Fez this is much more important than our petty drama. You should’ve told us!”

           “Thanks Y/N,” he responded sweetly. “I like you better than Eric.”

            Y/N chuckled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Everybody does.”

           The gang chuckled before turning their attention to Hyde.

           “So, Steven where are you going to live now that you and Eric aren’t friends anymore?” Jackie asked.

           “I honestly don’t know,” Hyde answered. “I was thinking maybe I could get a few more days over there. Gives me enough time to come up with an excuse.”

           “You can stay with me,” Kelso offered. “My brothers are out of the house and we have an extra bedroom.”

           “Thanks Kelso,” Hyde said and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll have to think about that one. I don’t need to be near a crying baby.”

           “She doesn’t cry,” Kelso defended. “She just mainly sleeps and eat.”

           “Well, to be fair, you only have her for a few hours a couple nights a week,” Jackie said.

           “In my country, babies are a huge symbol of good luck and fortune,” Fez commented.

           “Why’s that?” Donna asked.

           Fez shrugged. “I never understood that part. I guess it appeases the gods or some crap like that. Fertile and continuing of our kind. But I always thought that was a bunch of bull hockey. Babies are loud and needy.”

           “They’re babies Fez,” Jackie said. “They can’t take care of themselves.”

           “Eh,” he replied. “They’re still nuisances.”

           “So, if we were to stay together and we had a baby, that’s what you would think of that?”

           “I don’t know. You never gave us a chance to find out,” he responded bitterly.

           “Oooh,” Hyde said under his breath while everyone backed away from the table.

           “You can’t be serious,” Jackie argued. “We broke up three weeks ago. And in that time, you brought home another girl.”

           “Oh, and like you haven’t?!” Fez asked.

           Hyde closed his eyes, lips tight, trying not to laugh at his friend’s poor choice of words. Y/N shook her head and Donna covered her mouth with her hand, trying to contain her giggles. Kelso was already dreaming of Jackie and some other girl getting it on.

           Jackie’s face scrunched up in confusion. “No, Fez. I haven’t brought anyone home. C’mon, can we have a decent conversation like adults?”

           “No,” he said, frowning at her. “You hurt me like when a child gets his langamigna taken away from him.”

           “When a child gets what taken from him?” Hyde asked.

           “Lollipop in my language,” he answers and turns his glare back to Jackie.

           “I’m sorry, Fez,” Jackie said. “Look, I want us to be friends again.”

           Fez looked at everyone and as if they got the hint, they all got up, leaving them two alone.

           “What do you want me to say?” he asked her, leaning back against the chair and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You want me to accept your apology and have us go back to normal? Like you never ripped my heart out to begin with?”

           “Well, no, not exactly,” she responded and scooted closer to him. “I was hoping we could work on becoming friends again.”

           Fez glared at her with tears beginning to well in his eyes. “How can I be just your friend when I was so in love with you and still am?”

           Jackie looked down at her lap and sniffed. “I know, I do too. But we should still try.”

           Fez leaned forward and grabbed her hands, anger completely dissipated. “Then what’s stopping us? Didn’t you always say that love conquers all?”

           Jackie looked up into his deep, dark eyes; completely melting into them. Her lip quivered as she spoke. “This time love isn’t enough,” she whispered.

           A single tear slipped down Fez’s cheek and he quickly retracted his hands from hers and quickly wiped at his face. “Why?” he asked. “Why isn’t our love enough?”

           “Because we’re not right for each other,” she whimpered.

           From a few feet away, the gang was listening in with sad faces. Y/N leaned into Hyde, him throwing an arm around her and pulled her close. Donna leaned against the window with crossed arms, looking at the floor, and Kelso squeezing her shoulder.

           “What do you mean it’s not enough?”

           Jackie shook her head, barley containing her tears. “We’re just not right for each other. I see it, you see it, even the group sees it. We just never matched the way a couple should.”

           “I’ve always loved you,” he whispered, looking down at the floor.

           She reached over and cupped his cheek. “I know.” She smiled sadly at him and met his eyes. “And I will always love you.”

           Fez looked at her before leaning in to give her one last, loving kiss. Jackie melted into the kiss, tears streaming faster down her face. She brought her hands up to his face as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer to him.

           When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers. “We could’ve been great, you know.”

           “But we weren’t,” she breathed.

           Fez nodded his head and pulled away. “I know.”

           “But, you showed me what it felt like to be loved and appreciated and that’s all I ever wanted,” Jackie said, trying to lift the mood. “I didn’t have to worry if you were out with other girls or going to run away. Thank you for showing me what I deserve.”

           “Thank you for loving me despite being the weird one of the group,” Fez laughed half heartedly.

           “I call it eccentric,” Jackie giggled sadly. “You deserve someone who will love every part of you. The good, the bad, and the weird. You deserve to have real chemistry with someone. Unfortunately, I couldn’t be her. But she’ll come along and you’ll forget all about me.”

           Fez gave her a sad smile. “I could never forget you.”

           “You’re right, you can’t,” Jackie chuckled. “No man can.”

           They laughed softly together and stared into each other eyes.

           “I love you, Jackie.”

           “I love you, too, Fez.”

           They stood and reached over, enveloping each other in their arms, holding tight.

           “Are we…are we okay?” Jackie asked once they pulled apart.

           “Yes,” Fez said and brushed some hair off her shoulder. “We are. I need you in my life. Whether it’s as a friend or my girlfriend, I still need you.”

           “And I need you.”

           They smiled at each other for a minute before Fez looked at his watch. He sighed and clapped his hands together. “I, uh, I better get going. I have to go do something with my host parents.”

           Jackie nodded. “Sure, sure. See you later?”

           Fez smiled. “Yeah, of course.”

           Jackie returned the smile. “Okay, see you later.”

           “Bye,” Fez said quietly, leaning over and kissing her cheek. He zipped up his jacket and walked out into the crispy fall air of Point Place.

           Tears of sadness and relief welled in Jackie’s eyes as she slumped back down in her chair.

           “Jackie, are you okay?” Y/N asked as the group came back to surround her. She wrapped an arm around Jackie’s shoulders and squeezed.

           “Yeah. I think so,” Jackie said, finally feeling like she could speak the truth about her feelings. “Yeah, yeah I am. It just won’t be the same for a while.”

           “Jackie, no one’s asking for it to be,” Donna murmured to Jackie comfortingly.

           “But I am,” Jackie responded and ran a hand through her hair.

           “We’re here for you, Jackie,” Y/N said and laid her head on Jackie’s shoulders.

           Jackie felt a weight had been lifted off her chest, but now new one, yet lighter one, now rested its way in there. She just wanted things to go back to normal. At least now the worst part of it was over.

           “Yeah, we are,” Hyde said genuinely. “You need anything, you let us know.”

           “Thanks, Steven,” Jackie said glumly, but looked at him confused. “This is unusually nice of you.”

           “I do that a lot actually, yet people are always so surprised,” he chuckled once Jackie’s lips curved into a small smile. “But seriously, man, you’ve been there for me and Y/N during this whole mess. It’s only fair I return the favor.”

           “Well, I didn’t do it to be owed a favor,” she said.

           Hyde smiled kindly at her. “I know.”

           She smiled back at him and wiped at her nose. “Thanks you guys.”

           “You’re welcome, Jackie,” Kelso said. “Hey, if you want to, I can make you feel better if we—”

           “Kelso, I swear to God if you say ‘do it’ I’m going to kick you in the head,” Y/N threatened.

           “I was going to say do circle time! God!” Kelso cried out.

           “Oh,” Y/N responded, surprised. “Yeah, that sounds good, then.”

           “Yeah, I can do that,” Jackie said, standing and grabbing her coat off the back of the chair.

           “Oh good ‘cause after smoke time, we should definitely do it,” Kelso laughed.

           The gang groaned and turned to him.

           “SHUT UP, KELSO!”

Tags: @nicole-prz​ @lieswithoutfairytales​ @mdittyz123​

[erin-bo-berin]

My Heroine

MASTERLIST

This fic was inspired by the song My Heroine by The Maine which you can listen to here, if you’d like. The song I’ve come to realize sounds like it can have multiple interpretations, but I was inspired to use the whole “reader is Spencer’s drug of choice” plot. Not gonna lie it was rough writing about his prison trauma cause I consider it to be one of his biggest traumas, but I kinda wanted this to be a journey from his avoidance of it to his eventual acceptance, all while sex is his “heroin” or the reader is the “heroine” in his story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 4,460

I’m feeling pretty dirty baby

Forgive my sins

I get the feeling you can save me honey,

My heroine

The silver gleam from the sharp blade caught his eye as it hit the light. In any other circumstances, the sharpness of it might actually be considered  beautiful.

This was anything but beautiful.

This was horrifying.

The metal was so closely pressed to skin that even a small flinch could draw blood.

“Never ever mess with a man’s stash on the inside. When you do,” the man paused for a second—a millisecond—before the knife sliced across the skin, ripping the hostage’s throat open.

He struggled against the person holding him, his momentary shock and need to help his friend making him fight the grip of the big man, even more.

“People get hurt,” the first guy said, backing away.

The second man let go of him, his friend falling to the floor, choking on his own blood. While they made their departure from the laundry room, he ran to his injured friend’s side, grabbing a towel to hold against the wound.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeated, kneeling over the only friendly face he’d known in the last weeks.

If he repeated it enough, he’d be okay. He had to be. 

“Guard!” he yelled.

His hands cradled his friend’s face as he lay gasping and wheezing, the fear in his eyes matching his own. 

In all the years, throughout all the things he saw that most normal people didn’t, he’d never been as terrified as he was right now. His heart raced from the fear and he was breathing heavy as he screamed as loud as he could.

“HELP! HELLLLP!”

Spencer shot up in bed, breathing hard.

His face was sweaty, his entire body was sweaty, in fact. His t-shirt clung to his skin.

He kicked off the covers, sitting on the side of his bed, running his hands through his hair. He tried in vain to calm his pounding heart and slow his breathing.

The nightmares hadn’t stopped. If anything, they’d gotten worse.

A rare burst of anger caused him to shove the object that was sitting on his nightstand, off of it with extreme force.

He glared at the journal on the floor where it had landed haphazardly. He didn’t want to write in it like his therapist suggested. It didn’t help him then and it wasn’t going to help him now.

He rubbed his eyes, trying desperately to erase all the images that constantly played behind his eyes, regardless if he was asleep or awake.

It was the middle of the night, but he knew what he needed. He grabbed his phone off the charger and sent a quick text.

I need a distraction.

The recipient would understand, he knew. It was only 1 am and they were known to be a night owl anyway. 

He grabbed a pair of pants to change into and pulled them on in place of his pajama pants. All he had to grab were his car keys and his phone and he was out the door.

-

It’d only been six months since Spencer had been released from prison in which he spent three long, grueling months in.

He had been framed.

That was the first thing he remembered thinking, even under the influence of heroin and cocaine, in which the unsub had drugged him with. He had been sitting in a prison cell in Mexico, but deep down he knew he hadn’t done anything, even if his mind was scrambled and tried desperately to convince himself otherwise.

Fucking Cat Adams. If she hadn’t been such a psychopath, he might’ve admired her intelligence and skills to pull off something so elaborate, but alas, she was.

Her and her female partner Lindsey Vaughn had been watching him, waiting to strike. All because Spencer had arrested Cat and outsmarted her. It’s where she belonged after all. She’d been a

hit woman, operating in the shadows of the dark web that even experts in the area couldn’t even fathom.

She, along with four other assassins had been working for years before any law enforcement even knew of their existence. Spencer and the rest of his fellow Behavioral Analysis team had been the only ones to get close enough to them. Close enough in fact, to take them all down, every last one.

Cat Adams though, had been the hardest one. She was one to play mind games and she hated to lose. Which she had against him; he’d outsmarted her and she was the one who’d landed in a prison cell.

Of course, being the kind of person she was, she wasn’t going to take that lying down. So, she returned the favor.

He had been determined to help his mother—Diana Reid—who’d been suffering from paranoid schizophrenia all his life, but now had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. He was smart, he was sure he could help her, fix her maybe.

There’d been a plethora of drug trials, medicine combinations, diet changes, but nothing helped. So without his teammates—who happened to be the closest friends he had—knowledge, he had been crossing the Mexico border numerous times to get medicine for his mother, one that was definitely not FDA approved.

It was one of these trips that Lindsey—and technically Cat too—had struck. 

She’d dosed him with a spray of scopolamine, pumped him full of cocaine and heroin and murdered the woman he’d been meeting to get the vials of medicine from.

It was bad, really bad. He was the prime suspect in the murder and that is how he ended up in Millburn Correctional Facility pending trial for three months.

Thankfully, the BAU had worked their asses off to clear his name, but in the time spent in prison he had experienced some pretty awful things.

If that hadn’t been bad enough, Cat had orchestrated another evil plan. Lindsey had managed to kidnap his mother.

Less than 12 hours after being released from jail, he was back in another one to face Cat again and play her games. 

She had been executed for her crimes and the additional charges she faced for framing him and kidnapping his mother. He wasn’t the least bit remorseful; if anything, he was glad he’d never have to deal with her again. He dealt with her in his mind enough as is.

Spencer didn’t deal with emotions very well, so it was no surprise to himself that he didn’t stop to process his trauma.

Instead, he found other outlets.

He’d known Y/N for several years but had done an awful job of keeping in touch as the years passed. He’d recently reconnected with her before his arrest and then he’d pulled away again.

He felt bad for never telling her until after the fact, but he’d been embarrassed enough. 

She was a good friend, one who had said she would do anything to help him if and when he needed it.

That’s how the arrangement began. It’d happened once, by accident, but it had helped him forget everything when he needed it the most.

Which is why at 1 a.m. he was headed over to her house, just to forget everything for a while.

Your hips, my hands, you swing and you dance

Yeah, I’m feeling pretty lonely baby 

Just let me in

Just let me in

The door to her apartment opened to reveal her barefoot and in a long, oversized t-shirt.

“Hey,” she greeted him.

He didn’t waste time with the greetings, he kicked the door closed with his foot and grabbed her face, kissing her.

Within minutes he had her pressed up against her door, hands roaming under her shirt as he kissed her hungrily.

He wanted to forget.

Needed to forget.

She moaned into the kiss. Lucky for him, she got horny easily. She was always ready to go at it whenever. Maybe it had something to do with him, although he didn’t know. He never really took the time to dwell on it.

His fingers stroked her bare stomach as his tongue moved against hers. Her hands clutched the bottom of his shirt, pulling away long enough to help him yank it over his head. Her shirt followed suit.

For a while, they stayed there, top halves pressed against one another as their lips moved together in a complicated, yet simple dance. 

They made out for a while, while Spencer forced his brain to empty and focus on her. It finally worked as he felt his crotch tighten, his need for her now more than just something to get him through the night.

She led him back to her bedroom and within minutes was kneeling in front of him, pulling his cock out of his pants.

“You gonna be a good little girl and suck my cock?” he mumbled, looking down at her with lidded eyes.

Normally, he would never fathom talking like this. But something had changed within him in the last six months. He was rougher around the edges, he quite literally didn’t give a fuck anymore. Which proved to be true since he quite literally had a fuck buddy—something the old Spencer wouldn’t even consider.

He cared about her, but like him, she didn’t want anything serious, so he never felt too bad taking advantage of her this way. Weren’t they both using each other anyway?

“Your wish is my command,” she purred, making his cock throb even more.

The moment her mouth touched him, his eyes closed in pure bliss, the feeling chasing the nightmares away.

His hand threaded in her hair, guiding her head as her tongue glided and mouth hollowed out, sucking him like her favorite popsicle. She was amazing at this, he definitely had to give her that.

“Y/N, fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking up towards her mouth.

Her tongue was his gateway to an anxiety free mind—at least for the time being.

He pushed her away after a few minutes. He wasn’t going to last if she kept that up much longer.

With surprising agility, he’d had her from her knees to bent over the end of the bed in seconds.

Their sessions were far from romantic love making—the type of intimacy he knew she deserved—but more animalistic and frenzied. 

He knew he was selfish and instead of letting her have what she deserved from a man, he held tight to her like she was his lifeline.

In a way, she had become his lifeline. Things got worse the longer he tried to stay away from her. That’s why he always returned.

Her moans and the slap of their bodies were the only sounds heard in the room as he thrust deep into her. Even as fucked up as he was, he had to be an idiot to not admit that sex with her was incredible. She was incredible.

“Spencer, oh my god, fuck.”

Her words came out in a strangled moan as he’d switched up the movements of his hips. Instead of the fast and harsh thrusts, they turned into slow and deeper ones. He may only be her fuck buddy, but he was still gonna be damn sure she got her pleasure out of it too.

His fingers dug into her hips as he tried to erase the images of his earlier nightmare with every thrust. Usually, it worked. Tonight though, he was struggling.

Instead of disappearing, the memories kept flashing through his head like a silent movie on repeat.

The helplessness everyone felt in that prison.

The fear he felt.

The images of a group of white men who pointed a knife in his face his first full night in prison.

Two, sneering and sadistically joyful faces hovering over him as they beat him to a pulp, smothering his face with a rag.

His desperate decision in doing something so awful that it hurt more men than he intended it to.

The constant paranoia.

The fear he had become a monster.

Every single moment inside he’d spent that he had to make choices he’d never fathomed he’d have to—only to survive.

Delgado.

“Switch it up,” he muttered, pulling out of her, turning her around.

His jaw was tense, his body was rigid. All he wanted was one orgasm to erase his nightmare.

Her eyes narrowed, sensing his tension but knowing better than to comment on it.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered.

She pushed him towards the head of the bed, ordering him to sit against it. He did as he was told, focusing all of his attention on her again.

When she climbed into his lap to straddle him, his breathing had become ragged and he was glad that the stirrings of his arousal were coming back—his sexual attraction to her luring him back in again.

She sank down on him and he exhaled sharply, groaning lowly. The feeling of her tight around him was always like drinking water after being utterly parched.

“You like that?” she purred, her hands resting against his chest, “You like when I take care of you?”

“Very much so,” he growled.

He thread his hand into the back of her hair, pulling her face towards his. He kissed her roughly, his lower half meeting the speed she’d set since she was now the one in charge. Her pelvis grinded against his, giving her even more pleasure, he was sure.

As much as he did this for his benefit, he also had a small sense of pride in knowing he could make her moan and writhe like he did. His hands cupped her breasts, massaging them and she threw her head back with a loud moan. 

He could practically fall apart at that sight alone, but he managed to resist.

His lips attached to her throat, sucking harshly, sure to leave a mark. Their moves were frantic as she gripped the headboard and he bucked relentlessly into her.

They both spiraled into ecstasy, not that far apart from one another.

Sweaty and out of breath, she moved off of him, gathering her clothes and tossing his own to him.

“Want something to eat before you go?”

She asked it so nonchalantly it was as if he hadn’t just spent about half an hour buried to the hilt in her.

“No, thanks though.”

He wasn’t one to stay long after the deed, even though a part of him felt like an ass for it. Y/N didn’t deserve that. But if it ever bothered her, she never let on.

She nodded, watching him as he finished pulling his shirt over his head.

“I’m around, if you need me.”

Spencer gave a nod and headed to the door, grabbing his car keys on his way out.

You’re my heroine, but you’re suicide 

If I let you in you’ll crawl inside 

You save my skin

But you can’t wait to sink in 

My heroine

In a way, Y/N had become his drug.

Whenever things got too hard, he went to her. But lately, it was like every time he fucked her, it only left him needing more.

His PTSD was getting worse, the sex was only distracting him for so long, but he was stubborn. He wasn’t going to give her up anytime soon.

The PTSD was also affecting his work and he knew it.

It’d been six months since his release from prison, but he’d only been reinstated for three months. He worked his ass off to get his position back and he wasn’t about to let his emotions get the best of him.

He was currently trying to focus on the geo profile in front of him, but his vision kept blurring. He rubbed his eye, trying hard to block out everything else but this case.

He was becoming increasingly irritable as well.

It had only been a week since his last visit to Y/N, but he was craving her and her distractions so much. His nightmares hadn’t ceased, he was hardly sleeping and his teammates weren’t oblivious.

They knew he was having a hard time readjusting.

Spencer doubted they knew just how bad it really was though.

The map blurred in front of his eyes again, the sight being replaced with moving pictures, his memories being played before his eyes.

Like the time he was so desperate to survive, he poisoned drugs that he was supposed to move, instead of getting involved with the situation.

He ended up causing several men to get incredibly sick—his guilt over that still haunted him at night.

Prison was an incredibly dangerous place and he had been too good of a person to survive as long as he had.

For a while he’d had two friends; Delgado and Shaw.

One was murdered in front of him.

The other turned out to be using him. Shaw ran the entire prison population. He called the shots and people listened to him. But Spencer wanted no part of that.

Making an enemy of Shaw had been deadly. In fact, it came close to being deadly. Spencer could’ve easily lost his life behind bars.

It had been months since he had been locked up, but the sense of helplessness he felt still haunted him to this day. It smothered him like the sweltering heat on a hot, summer day.

He rubbed his palms into his eyes. He felt like he couldn’t breathe while at the same time his heart rate accelerated. His sense of fight or flight was being triggered and he couldn’t stop the sense of dread that was engulfing his senses.

“Spence, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just need some fresh air,” he answered, brushing past a worried JJ.

The moment he exited the crowded police station and the cool air hit his face, he felt fractionally better, but the anxiety still gripped him.

He gripped his tie, yanking at it and loosening it, so he could breathe. The feel of it around his neck had been making him feel like he was suffocating more so than he already had been.

His therapist had told him panic attacks were normal with PTSD, but he hadn’t had them much. This was an exception apparently.

He leaned against the brick of the building and tried to focus on his breathing to bring his heart rate down. After all he’d endured, he wasn’t about to let a damn panic attack take him down.

His eyes were closed as he tried to calm down, so he didn’t hear Luke approaching.

“Reid.”

He opened his eyes, seeing his teammate Luke Alvez, standing next to him. 

He wondered how he currently looked through Luke’s eyes. A mess, probably. 

Luke didn’t beat around the bush, either.

“Your PTSD has gotten worse, hasn’t it?” he asked, gently.

Spencer shrugged.

“Spencer, if you need to take some time—”

“I don’t need to take time off because I’m fine,” he snapped.

Luke flinched as if Spencer had physically hit him. If anything, he knew that his outburst was just further proof at how not okay he was.

“I need to get back to work,” he mumbled, moving around Luke to head back inside.

He wasn’t sure of anything much lately, but one thing he knew for sure was when they got back from the current case, he was heading straight to Y/N’s apartment.

I feel a little withdrawal baby,

Come pick me up

Took a hit from your level

Now I just can’t get enough 

Your taste, my touch

A little bit of love and a whole lot of lust 

He was back at her door, knocking.

She opened the door, dressed in another oversized t-shirt—due to the late hour of night—and greeted him with a wordless nod. Somehow, he thought she knew that he was having a bad time today.

He looked like shit, that he knew. His hair was a mess of tangled curls, his eyes were bloodshot and deep, dark bags shined brightly under his face, darker than his normal appearance. His cheekbones were more prominent lately as well since he wasn’t eating much, nor was he sleeping well either.

“How do you want me?” she asked.

Her tone was dull and to the point and threw him off guard for a moment. She’d never made it about her, ever. But now, looking at her, he could see her unhappiness. Whether he caused it or not, he was unsure.

This arrangement of theirs had been only to help him forget. Too quickly, it had become like an addiction for him. She was like his drug. He needed her to forget. But maybe, at the same time, she was tired of trying to help him when he couldn’t even help himself.

He promised himself that this would be the last time. Once more and he’d let her go. He’d let her be free of him. She’d be happier anyways.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said.

He tried to be gentle as he pulled her towards him. As he kissed her, he felt her body melt into his. Maybe he had been imagining her mood earlier.

He tried to focus on getting hard, not on all the horrors that constantly swirled in his mind.

His lips moved swiftly with hers in a kiss that was anything but romantic or gentle. It was lust driven and filled with his own desperate need to be distracted.

She knew exactly what to do to get him in the mood, that’s for sure. 

Her teeth tugged at his lower lip gently, her tongue almost the complete opposite of their current actions. It was gentle and hesitant as it met his before continuing its dance with his own.

He pulled her closer, his hand tangled in her hair as he kissed her more roughly, pushing her against the arm of her couch.

In the blink of an eye, he had her turned around and bent over the arm, his hand gliding over the silk material of her underwear. He felt a small swell of pride hearing her moan as he touched her. It also went a long way in helping his own arousal which was now throbbing in his pants.

He was already unbuttoning his pants as he kissed her neck, his hips pressing into hers. The more he got into it, the more he actually felt that he wanted this—that he wanted her.

With one smooth movement, he had her underwear pulled down to her thighs and he entered her with a groan.

But he couldn’t focus. 

Somehow, without him realizing it, the memories had slipped through a crack in his mind.

Instead of being there with Y/N, he was back in that cell.

The countless hours sitting in a cell, trying to remember something he never did.

The desperation, the helplessness in that place.

Familiar faces he dealt with sped across his mind.

Malcolm, Shaw, Delgado, Wilkins. Frazier, Duerson, the two men who gave him a beating meant for Delgado.

The fear he felt in those final days when he had no one to trust, when he had to stab himself in the leg to get into solitary confinement, just to stay alive.

The horrible memories were flashing in his head at the speed of lightning.

“Ow! Spencer, you’re hurting me.”

Spencer snapped back to the present, realizing his fingers were creating bruises on Y/N’s hips from his too tight grip.

“This isn’t working,” he said in way of an apology, pulling out of her.

He was already going soft anyway, the previous arousal now completely gone and replaced by his racing thoughts and memories.

“It’s fine,” she muttered, pulling down her t-shirt and pulling up her underwear.

He had just zipped up his suit pants—he’d come straight from the jet—when she spoke again.

“Actually, no. It’s not okay.”

Spencer blinked in surprise at her harsh tone. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her raise her voice.

“I’m sick of this Spencer! I know we started this a while ago for...reasons,” she flapped her hand in midair as if demonstrating all the unsaid things between them.

“But I can’t do it anymore. I care about you Spencer. Honestly right now I don’t know if it’s as more than a friend or just as a friend but that’s another can of worms to open another time. You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep coming to me and fucking me to try and rid your demons. You’ve been through a hell of a lot and you didn’t deserve any of it, but I’m not going to stand her and watch my friend destroy himself because he refuses to get the help he so desperately needs.”

Spencer stood, frozen in place, mouth agape. It was then he saw tears shining in her eyes.

“We have a lot to sort out between us, eventually, but you need to help yourself first,” she whispered, as if feeling defeated by her previous outburst.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he could say.

“I know facing everything, processing it all is a scary feeling, Spencer. Even if you tried reaching out to a friend to talk through it, that would be a big step. I just...I just want you to get better.”

A single tear slid down her cheek and he did the worst possible thing to do.

He fled her apartment like the coward he was.

•

He didn’t go home. 

Instead, he walked around the city as the daylight receded and the sun slipped behind the horizon, saying goodnight to the world until the next day.

He spent a lot of time thinking.

He ended up dashing into a busy diner he came across as the night sky opened up and rain began falling in sheets.

He sat in his booth, absentmindedly sipping on the cup of coffee he’d ordered and watched the rain fall in the darkness outside.

In an ironic way, the weather outside was similar to the turmoil he felt inside. 

Just like the completely blackened sky outside, he felt just as dark and empty. The storm was similar to the storm of emotions, memories, traumas he continually tried to squash, all in the wrong ways.

He knew ignoring his problems wouldn’t make them go away; he also knew using sex as a distraction was the worst possible thing to do as well, yet he’d continued to do it and he’d hurt more than just himself in the process.

He’d hurt his friends, who’d only wanted to help, but pushed them away. He’d hurt Y/N, who didn’t deserve to be treated like a plaything, yet he kept coming back, making things worse.

By the time he’d finished his coffee, he decided what he wanted to do. What he knew he needed to do.

I’m feeling pretty lonely baby,

So just let me in

Just let me in 

He’d ran through the pouring rain. He didn’t even bother to try to take any transportation. The rain felt like it was washing him clean from the horrors of the last year.

He was back at her door, but this time, for a different reason. 

He was soaking wet and felt a lot like a dog with his tail between his legs, but he refused to chicken out once again. So, he knocked.

She answered, this time in actual pajamas rather than the attire she was in hours before.

Maybe it was the expression he wore or something she saw in his face because she didn’t immediately slam the door in his face—something he knew he deserved. She stood patiently, almost questioningly, waiting for him to speak first.

He took a deep breath before speaking the words he should’ve uttered months ago.

“I’m ready to talk. I’m ready to get the help I need.”

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[incorrect-homestuck-quotes-honk]

To whoever asked for my au I love you but I tried to answer the ask three times and it didn't work :(.

BUT ANYWAY here it is!!

Dog city au!

Vriska's newly released from prison on charges of attempted murder via almost running aradia with her ex's car while drunk. aradia got out of it unscathed except for a fractured arm, she didn't want to press charges but her mother definitely did. upon vriska's release terezi is now her angry patrol officer. Which is a funny coincidence because they used to be friends in highschool before vriska dropped out. Shes still holding a grudge though since those days were less than pleasant. one wrong move and vriska goes straight back to jail

eridan is a successful news anchor despite not even applying for college. mostly because his father is the head of the news channel. karkat's been trying really hard to get a scholar ship because there's no way he'd afford it otherwise and he couldn't get it for having an average gpa. he'd stuck around his uncle's business establishment for a while but the pay wasn't enough to aid his plans of moving out from his parent's house. that is until eridan managed to get karkat a job as a camera man.

Karkat eventually got promoted to outdoor anchor after the last one broke his leg though awful fucktastic weather. The same awful weather he's going to have to deal with on a daily basis.

sollux couldn't go to college because he was in a psychward for his mental health, his brother's hospitalizion hit him pretty hard.

After he was let go he was advised to get a day job since he's got nothing going on and fuck being alone and having nothing to do. and he got a job as a children's party birthday clown, humiliating yes, but whatever. gamzee's an artist who works at an antique store and works part-time as a kid's facepainter because he loves it and thinks it's fun seeing kids happy and giddy. gam and Sollux both met at an elementary school's Easter party where they were hired and they hung out in the parking lot after it was over, with sollux complaining and Gamzee nodding with cake.

Aradia works with kurloz at funeral home! He's a mortician and she's the funeral director's assistant. They are besties. It's how she met feferi there accidentally when she was grieving to aradia about her aunt's passing under the false assumption that they were good friends when she was alive not knowing that aradia is just the funeral attendant. They got to know each other better over the course of the funeral arrangements and stayed pretty close friends.

Equius had to leave town to take care of his father because of an injury and he missed out on his SATs. They tried to reschedule the date so he can take the finals but shit just kept getting in the way. So he gave up and became a mechanic. Every other mechanic in the area would rip you off like hell so he got really good business because he of his reputation as blunt and honest despite his awkwardness.

Nepeta was vriska's friend back in jail on charges of vandalism and aggravated assault. She worked with equius after her release and she still sometimes bullies vriska in a not-so-friendly way.

Tavros is an elementary school teacher's assistant and gets bullied by tiny children with dave all the time.

Kanaya works at the antique store with gamzee. And she's always a bit pissy because of the blonde goth chic that keeps trying to bargain for miss Rosa's occult books despite her saying multiple times that they aren't for sale. Rose steals the books anyway and kanaya has to hunt her down like a wild animal through the city to get them back.

Jade works in an animal shelter that just so happens to be a front for the local mob. She doesn't care and wouldn't bat an eye as long as the dogs aren't hurt.

John is the most well-adjusted out of everyone and he actually goes to college and works a weekend job like a normal person. It's insane.

As for your other question!

Tavros and Gamzee used to be roommates. It was a small apartment before tavros moved out he decided to put all his yugioh merch in the bathroom because there wasn't anywhere else he could put it.and now that tav is in another apartment he just never came back for the yugioh stuff. Gamzee just has a yugioh bathroom forever now.

Whenever Sollux goes in he just bluescreens for 15 seconds from the sheer absurdity of the yugioh bathroom, he just blanks. It's why GZ thinks it's a good idea to let him go there whenever he's having a bitch fit.

The absolute violent waves of emotion the yugioh bathroom evokes in Sollux is like a factory resest.

It also has incense which is really nice.

[queerbutstillhere]

Yes, share the opinions if you are up for it

*starts aggressively fetching the receipts* YOU GUYS DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE ASKING FOR YOU DON’T KNOW

OKAY SO

First of all a MASSIVE FUCKING SPOILER WARNING for Chapter 15, aka Episode 7 of Season 2. Certain people are not allowed to allowed to touch this post, and they know who they are.

We first meet Migs Mayfeld in “The Prisoner” episode 6 of Season 1 (also known as Chapter 6). In this episode, he’s an asshole and its clear him and Din do not get along. Hell they get into multiple fights and Din ends up leaving Migs aboard the Republic prison ship, thus being the reason he ends up in jail. In Chapter 6 Mayfeld constantly pokes at and insults Din, as well as threatens Grogu a few times.

In Chapter 6, their dynamic is very hostile. Mayfeld is clearly very intimidated by Din, and expresses this by challenging Din, trying to establish dominance quickly. It’s hard to read Din, but I think he felt like treating Mayfeld like a puppy nipping at his heels. He’s not threatened, he knows he’s capable of handling Mayfeld. And of course this just eggs Mayfeld on more.

And of Course, as is required by any side character in The Mandalorian, Mayfeld taunts him over his Mandalorian helmet, giving us this beautiful foreshadowing.

Which YES I screamed when I realized the foreshadowing in that. Yes I realize.

Now! We move on to chapter 15. Mayfeld is in prison because of Mando. Cara comes and fetches him, and hes confused, but goes along because what other option does he has. And then he sees Boba. You can tell immediately that he’s still afraid of Mando, judging from his reaction to Boba, and his posture as Din walks up to him.

He keeps his eyes down and talks quietly. “So what, you came here to kill me?” He’s given this chance, after he’s told what the job is, to run. They all walk away, aboard the Slave I where he’s left completely alone. He could run, make a break for it, and you see in his eyes that he’s considering it. But you can also see, just from the simple interaction with Din and Cara that he’s changed some. The reaction he has to Cara calling him Imperial is what tells me that.

But when he finds out what the job is, he helps anyway. You could argue that he was doing it for himself, but Cara made it very clear that there wasn’t anything he would be getting from this. Maybe it was from fear, maybe it was from the goodness of his heart, who knows. But he helps, and willingly gives them the information they need. And I think it says a lot that Din went to Migs in the first place, hell he could have probably intimidated this information out of someone, but instead he went to Migs Mayfeld.

And ofc, in classic Migs Mayfeld fashion, he starts pointing out Din’s armor, I think as a defense mechanism. He’s scared - or rather, terrified - of Din, and he instinctively  chooses the fight reaction over a flight reaction. So he talks, he poked at the Mandalorian’s, about the creed, about the helmet.

One thing that really stuck out to me was this scene

Din can see that Mayfeld is anxious over the rhydonium (which is fair enough, i feel like you should be a little more concerned about hauling EXPLOSIVE SHIT, DIN). He chooses to reassure him. “Drive steady and you’ll get us to the refinery.” He had faith in Mayfeld. He shows it in this one scene alone. He already has some level of trust in Mayfeld.

Another scene here is the “I’m just a realist. I’m a survivor, just like you.” “Lets get one thing straight, you and I are nothing alike.” Which really is just a punch to the gut.

Now after we get through the pirate battle and get into the have the Brown Eyes scene. They get to the Refinery and Mayfeld is immediately all business, until he sees Hess. And even then, you can see some change from Chapter 6. He apologizes. You can see he feels bad, because this is it for Din’s chance at getting the kid, but he can’t go in there. And when Din decides to go in, Migs tries to explain, tries to stop him, because he understands. Even for as much as he pokes at Din for it, he understands that Din has his creed, that he refuses to take that helmet off in front of everyone, and while he may not understand why, he understands that it is there, and that it means everything to Din.

And of course we have our brown eyes scene. Migs risks his own safety, and hell, even the safety of their mission, just to go save Din. Because he must have seen Din’s panic, even from outside the mess, and known that Din was not okay. Din’s never been around people with his helmet off, this is never a situation he’s been in before. Migs just swoops in and saves him, doing his famed fast talking to save both their asses. And you can see Migs do a couple of double takes, because why wouldn’t he. He’s been wanting to see Din’s face since the day they met. Curiosity is only natural. But despite this, he focuses on the problem at hand.

As they’re talking to Hess, Din is panicked. I think he and Migs switched panic roles, as Migs is now perfectly calm, and Din looks like he’s about to be sick. He’s attempting to engage, and answer Hess, just trying to get this over with. And when Migs starts to challenge Hess, they make eye contact and Din tries to signal him no. But other than that one moment, he only looks directly at Din once, right before he shoots Hess.

In this moment, they’re both very vulnerable. Migs because of the conversation with Hess, Din because of his helmet gone.

And of course Din’s alarmed face after Migs shoots Hess gets me every time

And then after their brief shoot out, Din is hesitating, but Mayfeld immediately moves. “You did what you had to do. I never saw your face”

The fact that Migs turns away sends me. Not only is he giving Din some privacy, as much as he can, to put his helmet back on, but he’s leaving his back exposed to Din. I don’t know if this was an intentional choice by the directors, but just the fact that he’s just leaving himself open like that, to an armed and highly deadly man with a creed saying no one is allowed to see his face? It’s either trust, or it’s willingness to accept that he won’t survive. And Din doesn’t take a shot, he had an opportunity, we all know he could’ve made that shot, but he doesn’t.

Also the immediate demeanor change in Din after he gets the helmet back on is really cool to me.

At the end of the episode, Din has no indication of any hostile intentions towards Migs. As if he’s just okay with the fact that Migs is now the only living person to have ever seen his face. In fact he encourages that Cara lets him go free.

I don’t know all of Din’s reasons for this. Trust, resignment, I don’t know. But I think it speaks volumes. He chose to let Migs live. Migs knows this. No one else knows how much of a deal this was. His little nod to tell Migs to get out of there? Good shit folks Good shit.

In less official proper format, MIGS MAYFELD HAD A BI PANIC ATTACK WHEN HE SAW DIN DJARIN’S FACE AND DECIDED HE NEEDED TO RESCUE THE PANICKING MAN. THEIR CHEMISTRY WENT FROM HATE/FEAR TO MUTUAL RESPECT IN ONE EPISODE AND I’M FUCKING HERE FOR IT. THEY HAVE SO MUCH POTENTIAL.

[dramaticviolincrescendo]

A Fitting Finale: Bringing Ian Full-Circle

Is everyone sick of my essays yet? Excellent. Here’s another anyway!

I’ve been trying to put my finger on what it is about Ian’s story in s11 that I love so much. It’s clear that he’s struggling on a number of levels, and he’s certainly spent the first third of the season under so much stress that it’s impacted his moods and marriage. In 11x04, we began to see hints of the tension breaking, and it made me realize that there’s a common trend in Ian’s behavior throughout the series coming to a head in his final act. It’s part of what has him so passionately advocating for Mickey to get a legal job, communicating their need to hammer out the specifics of what their marriage means, and upset at his own employment status.

From start to finish, Ian has been driven by two important motivators: love and fear.

Ian’s deep sense of love and compassion for others is well documented. We know that he will do anything for his family. I’ve mentioned before that Ian is at his best when he’s with them and his worst when he’s not. They’re his support system, and he’s a key part of theirs. They look after each other and rely on one another when the chips are down. They’re all grown up now, Liam being the exception, but those bonds are strong. They’ve matured and branched out to include Mickey, Tami, Franny, and Freddie. Ian’s heart belongs to his family, and he’s given as much of himself as he can to the people he’s been with over the years in whatever capacity they’ve needed him to.

Ian has also always been a fearful character, though not in the manner we typically visualize. He’s strong and motivated, ambitious and sensible, clever and insightful. When he decides that he wants something, he goes for it, from a South Side thug hovering in his orbit to pursuing the highest military accolades despite his small beginnings. Over and over again, we’ve seen him leap into serious and often strange situations in order to achieve his ends or something for the people he cares about. This man stole a water heater from a dead person’s house with his brother and tried to help his best friend hide a body. Certainly, he doesn’t fit the traditional stereotype. He’s not a coward.

But Ian is terrified—of everything:

·        Not amounting to anything

·        Not being worthy of love

·        Being the center of attention

·        Fading into the background and being forgotten

·        Not being able to help other people or those he loves

·        Not having a path

·        Not being in control of himself

·        Not being enough

He’s never said it. He’s never discussed these issues, except perhaps not having control. That isn’t who he is. That’s never been his way. Maybe we should add fear of communicating too, or fear of being seen as weak.

In s1, Ian makes a lot of brave choices. He comes out to three people, two of them family members, knowing how that is viewed in their neighborhood. When Mickey is after him, Ian takes the battle to his doorstep. He turns his back on an arguably easier life in a nice, middle-class neighborhood and a home with a father who would provide for him to live in the constant struggle to which he has grown accustomed. On the surface, he’s one put together kid. But then there’s Kash. There’s this man who preys on him, a middle child so responsible (and so male) that no one thinks he’d fall into any sort of trap—and Ian is desperate to keep him. He fights Lip over it and so painfully tries to make him understand his perspective, that he’s spending money he should probably be using for things he needs to buy Kash music and baseball tickets, to make him like what Ian does so that they can build their so-called relationship. That Kash is married with kids is unimportant to him; that he’s exploiting Ian’s fear of loneliness and not finding love outside his siblings, unthinkable. We know it. Lip sees it, powerless as he feels to do anything about it. Ian can’t. To date, he never will. He’s blinded by a culture that doesn’t believe such things can happen to males, and until Mickey comes along as a viable outlet for his affections and source of the ones he needs, he’s too afraid to be cautious.

Throughout s2 and s3, Ian makes difficult decisions. They’re not always smart, but it takes great strength to commit to the choices he makes: allowing Monica into his life, voicing even an ounce of his feelings to Mickey, pursuing West Point, and running away. All of them, however, are driven by love and fear alike. He’s vulnerable and needs his mother, the one who slaps Frank for shoving him and listens when he feels alone. She assuages his fears by telling him what he needs to hear: that he can do and be anything. We know there’s a danger in that, especially when she takes him to enlist when he’s nowhere near old enough, but it’s still validating for him. It feeds that need for attention but not too much attention, for understanding but not coddling, for love that originates from someone who isn’t his siblings. We see similar trends emerge: fear of losing Mickey on multiple occasions, fear that he’ll forever be in Lip’s shadow when he receives a letter of recommendation instead of Ian, and fear of never having Mickey’s full affections spiraling into fear of facing his own emotions in the aftermath of the wedding. We’ve seen that Ian runs from what he can’t process. He runs from what he can’t handle. He runs when he’s scared, especially of himself.

It continues repeatedly throughout the series. In s4, Ian is afraid of going backwards and once again losing his position in Mickey’s life. In s5, he’s afraid of being a burden on everyone around him, changing them, and losing control of his own mind. In s6, he’s afraid that this is it: his path and his goals have come to nothing, and he’s doomed to fall into the shadows where no one will ever see or love him. In s7, that fear of himself re-emerges when a patient is hurt on his watch and he has to come to terms with the fact that being better doesn’t mean he’s “cured.” In s8, he’s afraid of the void where Monica and Mickey used to be, and it sends him spiraling into a deeper one he doesn’t fear until it’s too late. In s9, he fears a lack of guidance, an indecisiveness born of having been able to rely on his hallucinations to tell him what to do. His path is gone, and he has no options. And that’s terrifying. Then Mickey is there, and he can put some of his fears to rest until they resurge with the idea of marriage in s10. All of a sudden, he’s back where he was in s5, fearing himself but also what he’ll do to someone he loves.

In s11, we’re seeing an Ian far more like he was in earlier seasons: rigidly devoted to having a plan, knowing what’s coming next, and ticking off certain boxes on the list of things you’re “supposed to do” as a married adult male. He’s spent a lot of this season seeking value in his employment and position in their marriage, and the stress has been dragging him down—quickly.

And it’s no wonder: he has every reason to be scared right now.

The thing about prison is that it is what’s known as a total institution. It is removed from society and, as such, operates under its own social beliefs, values, and norms. Like the military, another total institution, prison involves an initial period of sloughing off roles and identities from the greater society and subsequently being resocialized into a new role set. Upon release, a person undergoes the same process in reverse, and there’s an adjustment period to reintegrate into normal society. We can see that process begin when Ian gets in the car with Lip and shudders a bit, unsettled at the prospect of being outside these walls for the first time in months—going home far earlier than anticipated. For many people, it’s a difficult transformation, especially once they realize the full extent of how your life changes as an ex-convict in the U.S.

Ian doesn’t really get to adjust. From s8 to the start of s11, he undergoes a whirlwind of emotion and change. He literally loses touch with reality, starts a cult, commits a felony, is on the run from law enforcement, allows himself to be captured with one final display, goes to jail, remains unmedicated until he’s bailed out, panics at what his movement became, feels alone in the house as everyone deals with their own business and leaves him to his own devices, seeks guidance from above only to realize it wasn’t what he thought it was, can’t find answers, has warring factions telling him how to plead in court, ostensibly takes a plea deal that requires some amount of time behind bars, goes to prison, finds the love of his life there waiting for him, has to let his sister go, is released without Mickey, gets repeatedly screwed over by a corrupt PO, gets engaged, breaks up (sort of), gets engaged again, sees his wedding venue burned down, gets married, and hurtles straight into a pandemic. That’s… That’s a lot. Being a newlywed in a pandemic is a lot without all the rest of it, but this is what Ian is dealing with going into s11, and he hasn’t had the benefit of a stable readjustment and reintegration period.

He’s drowning.

He’s scared.

He has every reason to be. Marriage is scary, especially if you are so young and so in love with the person you’re marrying. Employment is scary, especially for them, because it could mean the difference between paying the utilities and running out of water. Change in general is scary, especially when it hasn’t done you any favors before.

Add all that to what Ian’s behavior has indicated that he’s been afraid of since the start, and you have a recipe for disaster.

To a great extent, that’s what I think his arc is all about this season: learning how to live again. It’s about not being so afraid of himself that he desperately grasps for any stereotypical structure for married life that he can. It’s about regaining the confidence that has always left him clawing his way to the top instead of letting life beat him down. It’s about finding the happy medium where he and Mickey aren’t doing anything illegal but aren’t stuck in a valueless spiral, scrambling and struggling to pay the bills like when they were kids.

It’s about learning not to be so afraid anymore, and I think that’s a beautiful goodbye for a beautiful character.

[funny-house]

What do you think happens during the aggressive sequence when opal’s mom was singing her song?

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I have technically answered this before!! but since it was always always always attached to another post or rushed and summarized blah!! I will make this post

The Official

Opal Wine Mom Flashback Analysis  tw: spousal abuse, drug use, etc 

ok

insert that Always Sunny meme of the disheveled guy at the cork board cause we are going in---

First things first!! Flat answer, then explanation so the answer is: The mom was having memory flashbacks to events within the house, one if not all of them, depicting her being physically abused by her husband, mirror man! A lot of people find that shocking to hear at first, but let me explain I got a lotta proof !!!

Let’s start from literally the tippy top The sequence starts by zooming into the mom’s eye. This represents that whatever is taking place in this flashy sequence is all about her, what she’s been through, and what she’s seen. It’s her perspective. That, combined with how it seems to paralyze her while she’s going through it and her eyes roll to the back of her head until it ends, implies it’s something she’s trying to force away or doesn’t want to think about!

So frame by frame analysis, this is film theory now!!  first mental image: A windowpane at night that resembles jail bars. ( maybe the one seen on the bottom floor of the house in outside shots? ) A parallel to Claire’s window and a symbol for her feeling of being trapped-- something she brings up multiple times in her dialogue. She’s stuck here. She doesn’t want to be here but something is holding her by force and she feels helpless to escape it.  

Next scene! Hard cut to rapidly trying to call on the phone. They type 9-1-1. The music starts to fade into screaming.  Next scene! The mother’s head is in the far corner and the window is seen behind her, a reminder that she feels trapped, as she is literally seen being slapped in the back of the head by a hand. Next scene! A shot of their bedroom(whatever room she’s in!) door as her face melts across the screen Next scene! The mother screaming in a way that flaps her mouth in crazy waves and reveals her teeth and gums exactly like how Claire yells near the end Next scene! She’s shown laying down with pills dancing over her head. Next scene! her face melting below a distortion of multiple shots of her room’s door  Next scene! A whole bunch of stuff in rapid fire!! An array of eyeballs and slapping palms and her face distorting and pills and something being thrown and shattering overlayed on her face and then a zoom out from the prison bar-like windows and more screaming bleh Starting to form a picture here, right? Somebody has been very badly abusing this chic. Bad enough that she’s called the police... probably for a domestic dispute, I bet. You can even see a very nasty wound/bruise on her head, just like she’s depicted being most often hit in her flashback!! On the face!!

And in higher quality than this little picture i resize so it doesn’t take up the screen lol, you can pretty clearly see reddening and discoloring-- that’s not just another dent in her weird shaped head, she’s been hit! No other character has visible wounds on their design like that, not even Claire. So why do I assume it’s Mirror Man?  Well first, this world exists on a little set yknow they make a point of zooming out and showing as much, all their world is that house and that billboard. If someone not in that house was damaging her, they’d have to establish their existence or this would be.... a weird artistic choice tbh? The visual equivalent of randomly changing the subject lmao So it’s gotta be the dad or the grandpa heck-- it might be both, but I think it’s more likely the grandpa is a passively unpleasant company to her. He’s probably very mean and unstable- like he is to Claire, and-- honestly, for reasons i mentioned in a different post-- probably not even her grandpa but someone she was saddled with--  BUT he’s not the person in power. It’s just not likely she’d be afraid for her life enough to call the police on a badly disabled grandpa who can barely move without falling. Above all? He couldn’t be the one holding her hostage in a loveless marriage. 

LET’S jump to the very very start of the short! Every character has a montage of items that represent their problems as people. Mirror Man is obsessed with self image and is shown frustratedly throwing a tissue at a fashion magazine of a ridiculously exaggerated man’s face, the grandpa is shown putting out a cigarette but he’s missing his cigarette holder and just dabbing it on a TV program list, which is reckless and dangerous and shows a little disdain for TV itself. The mom? She knocks her wine..... onto a romance novel. A novel Jack Stauber deliberately drew the cover of himself about loving a serial killer that depicts another exaggeratedly idealized hot dude... strangling a woman whose smiling and dying in his arms. A toxic relationship, I imagine! Looks like someone!!! is having!!    relationship problems, maybe So let’s listen to how the mom describes the problem to her daughter “ It’s a virtuous cycle ” “ And they never repent how I want them to ” “ Our adversaries are in denial ” So it sounds like to me...... not only is she prone to being too forgiving of a certain someone, and that’s why she stays in a horrible situation in a horrible relationship... but that certain someone both gives insincere apologies... and denies that their actions are severe enough to be criticized.

Sound familiar? Maybe it sounds like the insincere apology of a certain mirror loving duderino who insulted his daughter’s ankles and promptly excused himself for having a brain that likes fixing mistakes without ever taking back what he said? And then promptly said this habit of his was uhhhh

“ That’s just a part of my journey, yknow? I’m like a tiny growing thing.” “ Everybody’s so mad at me, like, i’m growing though-- why be so negative? Why do people look at me-- like you probably are right now?” Feign innocence, empty promises to improve, reflect all attempts to convey that you’ve hurt someone? All without even being asked about it, btw lmao? It sounds like someone has something they should be apologizing for...   ( You’ll also notice all the 3 adults have a way of talking as if speaking in general terms-- like they’re talking about everybody in the whole world or to an audience rather than to... a little girl they have a personal relationship with-- but i think that’s just expressing how disconnected and self interested they are. You kinda have to read between the lines to get what they’re saying. )

ANYWAYS this is all my take on it, at least ! Hope it made sense!! If... any of you actually read all this junk lmao

[launchpadthai]

Heliotropism [a Fethsteel fanfic] 1/?

Summary: Fethry finds Steelbeak in a bad state and gladly nurses him back to health. Genre: Fluff, bonding, platonic intimacy. Confident!Fethry and Humbled!Steelbeak I just want these two to interact so badly Q_Q Rating: G Word count: 1500ish

Notes:  AU where Steelbeak is washed to sea instead of saved by F.O.W.L from S3E3. Shout out to whoever posted that prompt first and to Mighty-Ant’s oneshot fic with the same prompt for the inspiration! I consumed all the Fethsteel I could find, a lot of other people’s head canons and ideas inspired this so if something looks familiar, it’s cause it is lol. There’s plenty more written roughly, just need to polish it up. I really like Fethry’s comic personality so I leaned more towards it. Also AU rules, the Sublab didn’t get blown up. **No beta and I haven’t written fanfic in years so if you see anything written weirdly feel free to correct me! I’ve been sitting on it for months but if I don��t post it now I never will okay thank u 

--

The absolute pure darkness of say, the depths of a cave or the middle of a forest during a new moon was something Steelbeak was use to. Dim lights in a hidden base, or the cheap lights of a jail cell were almost homey to him. Almost.

So when he woke up in an unknown dim room, he didn’t feel the need to panic. Though, his head did hurt more than usual as he sat up slightly and reached up to rub it and was interrupted by a small tug. He looked over to see an IV needle stuck in the crook of his arm so reflexively, he reached to pull it out. “It’s just water.” Said a voice, cutting through the dark. Steelbeak tried to blink the sleep from is eyes, only able to make out a small blob of a body walking towards him. With another bag of clear fluid, a duck with a red hat appeared. “I don’t have anything fancier than that.” His tone was weirdly upbeat, or so Steelbeak thought, considering his situation. He tensed and a sharp pain shot through his chest, making him groan and the other bird paused mid step. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He put his hands up and spoke in a casual, yet jolly tone. “I’m Fethry, we found you in the ocean.” “We?” Steelbeak meant to say out loud but nothing came out. Anxiety began to bubble as he realized he couldn’t open his beak. He grabbed at it, trying to pry it open but it didn’t budge. He cursed Heron and the duck at the lighthouse but Steelbeak knew it was the buzzards. What he didn’t know, was if it was a malfunction or if the remote had that kind of range. Either way, it was annoying.

He punched at his beak a few times before falling back into the bed roughly, immediately regretting it as more sharp pains exploded in his chest. Fethry openly winced, watching as Steelbeak curled up and grabbed fistfuls of blankets to ease the pain while trying to catch his breath as much as he could through a closed beak.

“Okay, so that isn’t normal then. I tried to get it open myself but thought you just had that strong of a jaw.” Fethry walked to the bed while chuckling. Steelbeak let him get closer, but knew he could still take the bird out if he tried anything funny, even in his current state. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got a cracked rib, maybe broken?” Fethry spoke calmly. “You’re severely dehydrated too.” He switched the bags quickly, stepping back to give the larger bird room once more.

Steelbeak caught his breath, stopping the tunnel vision enough to scan the room. He was in a small bed that looked out of place compared to the rest of the area. Some kind of lab with big windows that were pitch black, save for some small dim lights that seemed to be floating around...Wait what? Were those Christmas lights? Was he in space? Steelbeak squinted and Fethry followed his gaze. “They’re bio-luminescent krill.” He said through a smile. “They were worried about you.” ‘They?’ Steelbeak’s expression spoke out loud. “We were the one’s that found you. You’re lucky you were so close to the lab.” He waved lightly, looked over to Steelbeak and tossed his head sideways a bit, motioning to the window. Without thinking, Steelbeak put his hand up and also waved lightly, a small gesture to the krill. They both looked into the sparkling, floating abyss in silence, the only noise coming from a generator. Somewhere down the empty halls, a light flickered and there was a groan, the sound of steel under pressure. The lab seemed to breathe, humming a metallic lullaby.

Steelbeak tried to fight off the exhaustion, his eye lids grew heavy but he lost the battle. Sinking back into his pillow, he fell asleep so fast he almost missed Fethry bringing the blankets back up to his chin.

--

Steelbeak didn’t know how long he slept. He was keeping track of the dream to nightmare ratio but lost the numbers when his eyes opened for the first time without a headache in...who knows how long? He was still in the same bed in the corner of the same lab but it was bright, like noon and Fethry greeted him even brighter, like the sun itself. Oh, that’s who knows how long. Steelbeak sighed but flinched slightly when Fethry got closer and jolted his arms out. “What’s your name?” He wiggled the marker and pad, a motion for Steel to take them. 

He spent a little too long writing his name and when Fethry got the pad back, he stifled a laugh at the wobbly lines of “STEELBEAK.” Steel furrowed his eyebrows, sat up straight, and immediately curled forwards from the pain in his chest. Not the first time bravado had hurt him.  “You seem more like a man of action anyways and I’m really good at Charades.”

Fethry was able to rig up a device that could fit through a small hole on the side of Steelbeak’s mouth so he could eat, but not before some convincing that Fethry needed to drill said hole. ‘I’m gonna kick this guy’s butt when I feel better.’  He thought through the vibration of the drill as it distorted his vision, making Fethry a fuzzy blur. It was quick, like a piercing, but soon he had the taste of something like gravy hitting his tongue and his body lurched, feeling desperately hungry. He swiped the tube from his hands with malice and Fethry just giggled as Steel poured another cup of the liquified food in the funnel and crouched in the corner, facing away from the small bird. “You’ll have your energy back in no time! I’ll run you a bath.” Fethry put a lid on the liquified food and left, humming a soft tune. Steelbeak brought his legs closer to his chest, trying to shrink even smaller, away from the whole world.  Fethry was the smaller bird, so why did he feel like he was?

--

As soon as he had enough energy to walk on his own without getting winded, Steelbeak did what every sane person who was held hostage did. He tried to break out. Every exit was met with loudly painted warning signs though and he had to talk himself out of swimming to the surface a couple times. Whenever he hit a dead end or his stomach started growling, he’d heave a sigh, go back to the designated lab room, crawl into the bed and ignore Fethry while he did...whatever it was he was doing. One day he was placing lab equipment in a big cart when Steel walked in after another failed attempt and collapsed on the bed. ”I can use a different bathroom so you don’t have to walk so far, you know, if you really need privacy.” Steelbeak’s face flushed as he sat up quickly, flung his head around and scowled at Fethry. He just cackled and pushed the cart out. “I’m just kidding!”

Steel felt confident when he finally found a room with what looked like escape pods on the outside of it. So he opened the nearest hatch, and almost drowned again.

As he floundered in the flooding room, his hands on the ceiling, he took what he thought was his last breath, when the alarms stopped blaring and a big metal plate slid over the hatch, stopping the deluge. The water drained quickly at multiple grated pipelines and Steel floated down, collapsing on his hands and knees, attempting to catch his breath through his nostrils. That had to be the most annoying part about his locked beak. That, and the fact he couldn’t eat, or talk, or do anything. He heard a door slide open and a pair of webbed feet met his vision. He kept his head down and prepared himself for a verbal assault. “There’s always the front door.” Fethry said, his voice playful. Steelbeak looked up, admiring his casual stance. A confidence shone from Fethry that Steel craved his own body felt again. One hand was in his coat pocket, the other held out a towel towards the crouched bird. “I can take you up to shore, you’re not a prisoner.” Steel hesitated, accepted the towel, then sat back on his heels and buried his face in it. He learned early on in life he had to take and fight for what he wanted, the simplicity of “asking” blew over his head. He felt silly. He was going to feel embarrassed for the rest of his miserable life, wasn’t he?

“Do you have a way to unlock your beak out there?” Steel shook his head in the towel. He could face F.O.W.L again, but his communicator was probably lost at sea. Any real reason to contact them was slowly flowing down the drains with the last trickle of the unwelcomed sea water, and having to beg for his spot back sounded more awful that usual. It actually sounded so bad, it was the last thing he wanted to do. “I did some research and studied your beak so I ordered some reverse magnets.” Steelbeak looked up from the towel at the smaller bird. “Stick around for a bit, underwater parcel delivery is inconsistent but they should be here any day. I can help you override that lock.”  All of Fethry’s weight was on one foot, both hands in his pockets and Steelbeak was baffled by the laid back stance. To place the cherry on top of Steelbeak’s confusion, Fethry shrugged nonchalantly, and said, “If you want.”

Steelbeak organized his thoughts. Fethry had yet to do anything to Steelbeak that warranted danger, he was just nice, right? This is what nice people did? With a lost expression, Steel looked back up to Fethry, who smiled again and reached a hand out. “Can I show you my favorite part of the lab?”

Part two