#and otherwise . . . has nothing to do with anything . . . and it's not like this is an insignificant arc like

[infinitatis-ink]

charade

Yandere!Gojo x Reader - Ao3 Link

Summary: Gojo likes to pretend about a lot of things. 

One, that his jokes are funny. Two, that he’s perfectly fine and doesn’t need help. Three, that you fell in love and started dating him out of your own free will.  

The chain around your ankle would beg to differ. 

Content Warnings: Yandere Gojo, implied kidnapping, captivity, Reader briefly having suicidal thoughts/ideation, Reader fantasizing about murder, nonconsensual kissing, referenced rape/noncon.

MDNI. MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

Gojo likes to pretend about a lot of things. 

One, that his jokes are funny. Two, that he’s perfectly fine and doesn’t need help. Three, that you fell in love and started dating him out of your own free will.  

The chain around your ankle would beg to differ. 

“Ah, I’m finally home!” Gojo lets out an exaggerated sigh and flops onto your chest, pushing you back onto the plush bed and knocking the book you’d been reading onto the floor. “The mission was a pain in the ass.”

Several months of living with Gojo have taught you that when he wants something from you, he simply expects it to happen. Otherwise, his tantrums and passive aggressive silent treatments are too much of a headache to deal with. You automatically run a hand through his hair, gently massaging the spots you know he’s weak to as he makes a contented noise.  

“A whole week without your touch was pure torture, you know,” he murmurs, trailing his hands down your hips. 

It’d been torture for you too, just not in the way Gojo wants it to be. The only bright side was that he’d gotten better about leaving you well-supplied before going on long missions, ever since you’d nearly starved to death when his flight had been delayed (a shame he came back in time, you were so close to being free from him). Sure, he’d made sure the fridge was stocked with your favourite foods and let you use his movie collection and the balcony (the chain’s sadly not long enough to let you jump off it), but it means nothing when he’s insistent on keeping you in his bedroom the whole time he’s gone. Gojo had told you once that you'd get access to the rest of the penthouse while he's away on long term missions after you'd earned that privilege.

You doubt he had any intention of keeping that promise.

How cruelly ironic. The only time you get some freedom away from Gojo’s suffocating “love” and you can’t even enjoy it to the fullest. You’d gotten so bored by the last week that you’d started staring at the tiles on the bathroom floor, trying to make shapes out of the greyish marble veins. Had he been gone for any longer, you think, you might’ve even been glad to see him again.   

You suddenly feel his lips brush over the crook of your neck and look down to see Gojo staring up at you expectantly with a pouty expression, his cheeks comically puffed out. In another universe, you might’ve found it cute. But all you can feel now is the urge to wrap your hands around his throat.   

“Well?” He playfully nips the skin under your collarbone, and you hate the jolt of electricity it sends to your core. “Did you miss me?”

You sigh. As tempting as it’d be to break his fingers so he'd learn to keep his hands to himself, you know he’d just find it hot. Goddamn weirdo.

“It was torture for me too,” you finally say. It’s not a complete lie, so it should satisfy him for the time being. Anything to stop his hands from wandering all over your body, as though you’re an instrument he just has to fine tune to his liking. 

Gojo stares at you for longer than you’d like, before he gives you a lazy smile. 

“Is that so?” he asks, toying with the hem of your shirt. “Then I guess you'd know I’ve been wanting to do this the moment I came home.” 

The air's knocked from your lungs as Gojo suddenly slams his lips against yours. You freeze for a split second, still trying to process what just happened, a noise of protest dying in your throat. He takes the chance to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue between your parted lips to taste all of you. You’ve learned that Gojo’s kisses are greedy, suffocating things, filled with a need to savor you as though you’ll slip out of his arms and vanish at any second. You faintly feel him grind against your thigh with a groan, something hard and blunt poking at you through his pants.

A knot forms in your stomach, right above the heat that’s starting to pool into your core. You know you should count your blessings. Be glad Gojo’s bothered with foreplay this time, instead of coming home and immediately taking you on the nearest flat surface. But no matter how considerate or gentle he might be towards you as he violates you, it makes you want to crawl out of your own skin afterwards. 

Maybe there is some greater being or force in the universe after all, because Gojo mercifully pulls away with a satisfied look on his face. You waste no time scrambling to sit up, trying to get as much distance as you could away from him. No luck; Gojo immediately grabs your wrist and pulls you against him.

“W-what the—why—” you splutter. Heat prickles against your scalp and face as you glare at him. 

“It’s alright if you're still shy about making out, baby,” Gojo coos. He taps your nose and grins, as though you’re just embarrassed and not itching to punch him. “Since we haven’t been together for that long. But you can just let me know, yeah?”

Red hot anger bubbles up in you, and you wonder what Gojo would look like when you crush his throat beneath your heel. 

“Go fuck yourself,” you snarl. 

“That’s your job, sweetheart,” Gojo leans in, until you can feel his teeth against your skin, lips curling up into a smirk. “Hate me all you want; I have enough love for the both of us.”   

[vulchak]

Yes, I find fun in well crafted movies full of heart, passion and timeless loveable characters. HTTYD 2025 has none of those. It's nothing but a soulless, poor imitation of the original, only made to acquire the studio more money. There's not a single thing about this film that is good, or even so bad it's good.

People are allowed to enjoy it. I don't agree with expressing said enjoyment through going to see it in a theater, because you're contributing to a very VERY bad trend in the movie industry of rehashing old stories and relying on nostalgia only for quick and easy profit. But you're still allowed to enjoy them. Same as everyone else is allowed to criticize them, is allowed to hate them.

I've seen several comments like this, several posts. And I think they all stem from one place: desperation. Let me explain: people want more new content of a series that ended in 2019, (2018 with Race to the edge if I have anything to say about it) and seeing more content of said series is enough for them. Desperation has left them with lowered standards and a lot of coping.

"It's just like the original, it's perfect!" You know it's not. You love the original, I'm willing to bet you've seen it 20 times, have it on DVD or otherwise readily available. You know the remake isn't the same. And yet, consciously or subconsciously, you ignore it, because you're desperate for more content.

But I ask, is it really worth it? To sacrifice your own standards and cheer on the plummeting of your favorite series quality, just for something, anything new?

I don't think so. I only watched this train wreck so I could properly talk about it instead of relying on reviews and random clips. And now that that's done. I'll never watch it again. I won't even remember it as anything more than a bad example.

But the original will stay a movie I come back to regularly, and can appreciate every single time I do. Every story beat, every character arc, every moment, every high in the score, hits just as hard as it did when I was only a 10 year old boy. Because it's timeless.

But the remake? Is nothing but an instantly dated, desperate attempt at relevancy, enjoyed by those desperate for anything new, those who haven't learned to enjoy and make the most of what they already have.

I'd much rather look at or make fanart, read a fanfic, theorize and analyze with other fans, rewatch and notice new details I'd missed in the movies and shows, than ever give this insult of a remake the time of day again, and I think you should too.

Hooo boy that got REAL for a sec there, but I needed to get it off my chest, HTTYD means so much to me, and to see its own fans happily praise its butchering has been nothing short of saddening and infuriating.

Don't watch this thing in a theater, please. I'd say unless your curiosity is really strong, don't watch it at all. Time is priceless and shouldn't be wasted on trash.

[korrasera]

Everything said above is wildly incorrect misinformation that you should be wary of.

It's not true and I'm going to provide some information to help you debunk it when you see it in the future.

The Disney/Universal lawsuit doesn't expand copyright law or impact fair use doctrine. People that try to tell you that this will hurt small artists are fearmongering to scare you into to supporting AI services that cause harm to small artists, harm to everyone, and harm to the environment.

1 - The Disney/Universal lawsuit doesn't expand copyright law

Their lawsuit and the evidence compiled to support it is demonstrating that Midjourney creates exact copies of copyrighted material as a way to demonstrate that it's not a transformative work and that fair use isn't a defense for their behavior.

This is just what a normal claim of direct plagiarism and copyright infringement looks like when it's two large companies instead of one large company and a small artist. It's not an attempt to expand copyright law.

2 - The claim that there's no definition of copyright that does not permit AI but does permit fanworks is fearmongering

The point of the lawsuit is to demonstrate that Midjourney isn't just wildly outside of fair use doctrine, but that they've also already admitted this in a court of law. Part of the evidence is previous legal proceedings where they admitted to committing this plagiarism without ever trying to get permission from copyright holders.

If this lawsuit succeeds, it will be a significant blow to AI training, but has no impact on fanworks. It doesn't change the argument around transformative art, it doesn't change copyright law, and it doesn't change or weaken the fair use doctrine. This is just a legal argument that any AI training fits the existing definition of plagiarism.

3 - This does nothing to impact fair use doctrine

If you aren't already aware, the fair use doctrine is not a shield that keeps you from getting sued. It's a legal doctrine that allows you to argue fair use as an affirmative defense if you get sued in a court of law. That means it's on you to prove that your works are transformative and fall under that fair use definition.

That definition is not changing. The Disney/Universal lawsuit isn't arguing that it should change. They aren't setting a precedent for it to change.

They're making a direct, 1:1 plagiarism argument using images pulled from Midjourney's output and public advertising.

So, they aren't arguing for anything that would change how fair use doctrine is interpreted. They're saying that Midjourney copied their art exactly without transforming it, while citing Midjourney having admitted this in court in the past.

Your fair use is safe. Anyone who tells you that Midjourney's loss is a loss for anyone relying on fair use is just trying to make you scared so you'll support Midjourney and gen AI when discussions like these occur.

4 - Independent AI users are just a human face put on the gen AI problem to make it seem more palatable

While it's true that Midjourney shutting down would impact all users of the system, independent and otherwise, if Midjourney loses the lawsuit and doesn't shut down, the service will continue to exist and users will continue to be able to use it.

They're a tech company that's going to try to survive this and continue to seek profit, so they will try to adapt to survive if the lawsuit doesn't go their way.

So.

Because this lawsuit seeks to prevent Midjourney from committing plagiarism, if someone tells you that Midjourney changing (not dying) will hurt independent users of the service...

...they're telling you that independent users of the service require that plagiarism for their work.

That's not a defense of small artists. That's a defense of the same people who would copy and repost your art as their own without attribution. They just use a gen AI service to do it.

Closing Thoughts

I've seen the same exact 'this will expand copyright' argument so often that I have to wonder if this particular strain of thought originated as propaganda from the pro-AI space.

It's important to fact check these sorts of claims because gen AI is a growing problem for everyone. Sure, plagiarism is a the main focus here, but gen AI also wastes ridiculous amounts of water and electricity for no real benefit.

Because it's a new, powerful form of tech, you're going to find people who will defend it uncritically and help spread misinformation to protect it.

I'd encourage you to be skeptical instead. Keep your eyes open and be critical of claims that tell you to be fearful and you'll have a leg up on the misinformation that we'll continue to see on this topic.

For more reading, check out these sources:

Ed Zitron is a technology writer that specializes in writing about AI and he's thread on BlueSky that goes over this in some detail, citing the lawsuit and breaking down the argument. [link]

Reuters published a short article that reports on the same points raised by Zitron. [link]

You really, really don't need to be cheerleading Disney and Universal here. It honestly doesn't matter how much you dislike AI art — if the court rules in favor of the corporations, the implicit expansion of copyright law will do a million times more harm to the arts than fucking Midjourney ever could.

Like. There is no definition of copyright that does not permit AI training, but does permit fanworks. The latter is much more clearly derivative than the former. You do fanart? Fanfic? Disney's pointing a gun squarely at your head and you're cheering because it might hit the AI artists behind you too.

And beyond that, do you know what happens to AI generation if Disney/Universal win this? They aren't opposed to the technology in principle! They'll be able to use their exclusive rights to a vast corpus of art to make their own AI, for their own purposes. Who does this help? Companies who want to reduce employment costs and disenfranchise the working artist. Who does this hurt? Well, it hurts independent AI users. Congrats, your anxiety over commission prices is gone now, not that it was well-founded to begin with. It also hurts anyone who wants to make use of fair use doctrine forever, so I hope none of what you were selling was fanart of copyrighted characters.

I've never made a secret of being rather more open to generative AI as a technology than most people in these online spheres. But for fuck's sake, you really don't need to like AI to realize that this lawsuit's success would be a terrible thing to happen to art! If you've found yourself on the same side as Disney, that should be a clue that you might wanna review your thinking!

[leighsartworks216]

How can you stand it?

Zayne x gn!Reader

Wrote this any time I had a break from packing up my room so it's more stilted than my usual writing I think

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, minor character death, child death, grief/mourning, guilt, crying, cuddling, forehead kisses, fire, references to Zayne's anecdote (Never-Ending Winter)

Word Count: 2,006

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third - Fourth LADs Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

Sirens fill the air. Smoke.

Wanderers attacked. They appeared out of nowhere, unleashed on a section of the mall. Your team got there as fast as possible. Worked as efficiently as you could to defeat the threat.

The structural damage was too great. It's a mad dash of crowds trying to get out of the danger zone. The ceiling will cave in at any moment.

You ignore the burning in your lungs as you usher out another group of people. Ambulances are lined up just past the police tape. EMTs working to check out everyone who stumbles from the mess.

You can't hear anything. Sound is muffled, as your eyes search for a familiar face. Seek out security, familiarity, as adrenaline courses through you.

It's like nothing else exists as he lifts his head. Even from here, you feel the weight of his hazel green gaze. The silent urging to stay safe. The hope that you're okay, too.

The roof creaks above. You jolt away from the entrance.

"Have you seen my daughter?"

You scan the crowd. Find a man, woman in tow, both trying to peer over heads to find their lost child. Stopping people who don't want to be stopped, trying to pick their memories for any hint of a little girl.

You look at Zayne again. He grabs onto the tape with one hand, body tense. He can see the state of the building better than you. He can see just how close it is to crashing down.

But you can't just ignore this cry for help.

You run inside.

You hear his voice call your name, just before the crackling flames swallow the sound whole.

Zayne swears under his breath as he ducks under the tape. White coat billows behind him as he runs to the front of the crowd to urge civilians back away from the entrance. If the building is going to come down soon, he can't let anyone get needlessly hurt from the debris.

His heart pounds in his ears. He glances over his shoulder even as he corrals people. His mind can't rest knowing you're in there. Each second stretches on into forever. Fear ratcheting up.

Zayne has always been the cool head in high stress situations. He takes control. Commands people what to do or where to go when they flinch and falter. It's why he's such a good surgeon. Why he excelled in his time as a combat medic, however brief.

Now, he can't seem to get his head on straight.

Everyone is backed up to the tape and slowly ushered under it to receive treatment from the waiting EMTs.

He stares at the entrance. Holds his breath. Prays to a god he hasn't believed in since he was a child.

And waits.

Waits.

The flames blaze higher. Firefighters set up their hoses, working quickly to try to keep it from spreading.

A shadow forms in the smoke. Stumbling. Forcing through.

You step out onto the parking lot pavement. Smoke clings to your clothes. Ash sticks to your cheeks. You feel so weak. You want to collapse. But you don't. You keep walking. Step after step.

A little girl, gently cradled in your arms.

The roof caves in. Loud cracking, crumbling, groaning fills the air. Dust sweeps out from the wreckage. Swoops out into the crowd. Zayne holds up an arm to cover his face, trying to keep an eye on you. You, god his heart aches - you curl yourself over the girl, protecting her.

He knows the child is dead. He's seen too much to believe otherwise.

The building settles. Silence washes over the crowd. Terrified awe of the destruction.

Your uneven footsteps are the only sound he can latch onto. You step slowly up to the couple beside him. 

Their faces crumple. Sobs wracking their bodies as they take the body from you. Holding onto her, onto each other, as they fall to their knees, weeping into her knotted hair and fire-heated skin.

You stare listlessly. Hopelessly. Your eyes, dull and hollow.

Zayne touches your arm gently.

You blink. Raise your head to look at him.

His hair is disheveled. Glasses sticking out of his coat pocket. His skin is untouched by the fire and soot. He holds on tighter. Reaches out with his other hand to guide you into his chest. Wraps you in his arms. Rests his head on yours.

"It's not your fault," he whispers. "You did everything you could."

That's what breaks you.

Tears well quickly in your eyes. Large, fat tears that pour out without any resistance. Your body shakes, caught between heaving out sobs and coughing from the smoke in your lungs. Both come out, fighting against each other. Your arms that were held out, empty, cling desperately to him. Fingers curl into his coat tightly, until they tremble from the effort.

He rubs your back in soothing patterns. Watches over your shoulder as arcs of water tame the fire. Listens to your sobs as they intermingle with the grieving parents'. It's all he can do.

-

You can't sleep. Every time you close your eyes, start to drift off, you feel the heat. Hear the screams. The weight of a body in your arms.

Zayne can't sleep, either. He can't shake the look on your face just before you ran back inside. The fear that still shakes his heart during the uncertainty of your fate. The stutter in his breath when you came out safe, but the person you went in to rescue did not.

You sit together on the couch. His back rests up against one of the arms, legs spread out along the cushions. You lay on his chest, ear over his heart to listen to his heartbeat. A knit blanket tangles loosely over your bodies, there only for the mundanity and familiarity. Two matching mugs of tea grow cold on the coffee table, untouched.

Zayne lives in a quiet neighborhood, far from the bustle of the main road. Crickets chitter outside in the grass. You think you hear the sad, lonely hoot of an owl at some point.

He gently pets your head. Strokes over your back. You rub a thumb over the soft fabric of his pajama shirt, tracing the outline of his ribs underneath.

You stare at the blank tv screen. At the books on the shelf beside the trinkets you've collected. You feel more tears well up at the thought of that little girl, with her shelves of books and stuffed animals and toys. Of her excitedly pulling out a well-read children's picture book and snuggling up with a plushie to read it to.

Zayne feels the sudden hitch in your breathing and pulls you closer, shifting you up to tuck your face in his neck while your body tries to squeeze out any extra moisture for your tears.

"Does it ever get easier?" you whimper.

"No," he murmurs back, "it doesn't."

"How can you stand it?"

He sighs softly. Kisses your temple.

There's no good answer. Nothing he can say that will cure you of this pain. No advice that could instantly steal your tears away.

He still remembers the first patient he lost. It's an old ache. Distant, but he can pick through his heart and find it as easily as seeking out a book in a library. Every book on those shelves is a lost soul. A testament to the failures that fuel him in his research. Even William... His book is here, too. Closest to the very center of his being.

When the news broadcasted the attack, they caught footage of you running inside. The heroic act of a Hunter who fears nothing.

When you returned with the child, the city decided to build a memorial to her. Already, a pile of flowers and stuffed toys grows in the park beside the mall. And you - they wanted to pin you with a medal.

He's grateful to your boss for not forcing you to go to some ceremony or live event. But he knows, in a couple days, when they swing by with that small box in hand, you'll only see it as an award to your failure. A constant symbol of the life you couldn't save. When that time comes, he's already set aside space in his desk, right beside his Linde award.

But for now, he will do his best to pick up the aftermath. To take care of you.

He reaches to grab the edge of the blanket. He pulls it up your back, up your shoulders, swaddling you in its warmth. You croak out an apology, wet and guilty. He shushes you, pressing another kiss to your head. "You have nothing to be sorry for, my love."

You're more composed now. It's a side effect of having no more tears to cry. Your eyes are puffy and dry. Swollen and sore. You seek out one of his hands and guide it to your face, kissing his knuckles while you press his fingers against your under lids. He almost smiles as he uses the barest hint of his Evol to cool the sensitive skin. "You can't stand it, can you?" you rasp.

He shakes his head. Caresses his knuckles across your eyelids. You sigh with relief, pressing more grateful kisses to his scars. "No."

You nod slightly, like it confirmed something for you.

He loosens his hand in your hold, just enough to trace his fingertips along the bridge of your nose, up between your brows, across your forehead, and back down before repeating. The cool sensation calms you further. Chases away the lingering upset. Slowly but surely, it solidifies the exhaustion in your body - the effort of fighting off the Wanderers, the rush of running back into danger, the ache of inhaling smoke and dust, the emotional turmoil on top of it all - and guides you into a deep slumber.

He continues his ministrations for a while longer, more as a reassurance for himself. A reminder that you are safe, here in his arms. He feels the rise and fall of your chest against his, paired with the breaths hitting his skin. Wraps one arm more solidly around you to lightly hold your wrist and feel your heart for himself, how it slows as you drift off. Soaks in the heat you radiate. The weight of your body pressing on his own.

At some point, the fear finds him again. Chokes his breaths as he cranes his neck to look down at your peaceful face. Stutters his heart as he imagines this face, your face, staring up at him from a coffin.

He stubbornly chases it away by pressing his nose in your hair, fresh and clean from the long shower you both took upon your return home. By kissing your head and allowing his lips to linger. By touching his cold fingers lightly to your neck just to feel you stir in his arms.

He takes a deep breath. In. Out. And another. Inhaling the scent of your shampoo. Exhaling the panic in his chest. His eyes burn, but no tears fall. He swallows them down. Releases one last breath.

He's careful as he slowly sits up. He gathers you into his arms smoothly, stands up with you held close to him. The blanket drags along the floor to the bedroom. He slips you under the duvet feet first, cradling your head as he lowers you to the pillows and tucks you in. The seconds it takes for him to walk around to his side feel like years.

He crosses the middle of the mattress to trespass onto your side. Wraps you up in his arms, hooks his leg over yours. You cling to him in return, circle your arms around his waist, hands tucked under his shirt to lay against his bare skin.

You'll get through this. He knows you will; you're the strongest person he knows. And he will spend every single day ensuring you know you aren't getting through it alone.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @hawtlineblingz @that-lost-one @always-just-red @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @nothankyew @nezuswritingdesk @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @mentaltrouble2201 @mskaylacharite @nerrivm @ichosesparklingtorment @schnittled @animegamerfox @perla-drg @17chuuya @slovesyouuu @whisteriaremembers @atinymekanie @astheskycries @nm4565natty @plzdonutpercieve @thegreawizards @zeldaisapuppy @ocharavitys @gaychaosgremlin @leiakitty

[dailyreverie]

Say don't go

A/N: Title comes from the Taylor Swift's song with the same same. This is just one long-ass declaration of love. And you know what, I don't care. Enjoy.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Prompts: ‘I don’t think I could love you’ "I don't need a reason to love you. You're enough."

Word count: 2.2K

CW: A few f words.

He should’ve seen it coming. From the moment he left the meeting room and you headed for the door right after him, Bucky knew there was no getting out of this one. He listened to your steps, almost holding his breath in hopes you would walk in a different direction, but the sound of your harsh steps told otherwise.

But what could he expect, if he knew damn well he has been nothing but awful with you for the past month. He did his best to hide it, not to be so obvious when it came to ignoring you, but it all became too evident during the last mission. You had been staring long enough at him for it to be a casual glance; you were waiting for him, waiting for a reaction, a word, a glance, anything, and Bucky remained stoic. Eyes to the front, no distractions. The hurt on your face when you turned away was enough for him to know you had reached the breaking point. And yet, as much as it hurt him, he was set on not turning around to face you.

“Bucky,” You called his name, your voice like a rock hitting the back of his head. He cringed a little, but kept walking either way. “James!”

Not here, he thought to himself. Not now. So he kept walking.

“Oh, so you are ignoring me.” Your voice was louder now, getting the attention of the few agents walking by. “You know what? Whatever. I wanted to talk it out and fix it, and I wanted to apologize to you.”

He stopped walking, he had to do so. His eyes stung enough for him to squeeze them shut, regretting everything he did that made you come and apologize. For fucks sake. You were the one apologizing to him? That was it. He was the biggest idiot to ever walk the Earth.

“You do listen, then.” You kept going. “Can you at least- Would you please just turn around?” Bucky couldn’t bring himself to do it, not even when he heard your distressed voice. He knew the second he turned around and looked at you, he was going to break your heart and whatever was left of his own in the process. You let out a sarcastic laugh when you realized he was not turning around. “Well, if that’s what you want. I’m sorry for saying that I love you-”

The loud voice that came with your apology was what got him to turn around, taking long strides over you so you didn’t say more out in the open halls, surrounded by agents who were now much more interested in your conversation than before. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to an empty meeting room, locking the door behind him.

“You know how much of an idiot I felt the minute after I said it that day?” Your voice was smaller now. “And not because of what I feel, I’m not sorry for that, but because I… I thought we…” A sigh left your lips when words failed you. “I thought what I was feeling, you were feeling it too. I never meant to offend you, or to pressure you into anything, if that’s what you felt.”

Idiot, was the word that kept going around Bucky’s head, feeling every muscle on his body tensing at your words. He couldn’t keep making the same mistake with you, because you and your stupidly kind heart were going to get sick of him one day, and stop giving him more chances.

“So yeah… I’m sorry. I don’t want us to stop being friends-”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He was expecting his voice to be rough, to get caught up on his throat, but the instant his eyes met yours, he melted, he let go of all fear, and made his voice come out almost as a sigh. “And we’re not going to stop being friends.” He felt as if his body had relaxed once he spoke to you, after so many weeks of not doing so.

You sat on the edge of the table, almost relieved, looking at him with crossed arms as he looked around the room in hopes that what he needed to say was there, somewhere. He was met with your stare again, kind and calm once again, the storm in them long gone.

“I’m sorry,” He said

“I fucked up,” You spoke at the same time.

“What did you fuck up?” Bucky spoke again

“Why are you sorry?” Once more, as if your minds were one, you asked at the same time. You laughed shyly with each other at the useless conversation, at the unanswered questions. “Please, let me.” You pleaded, your eyes shining up at him.

But Bucky shook his head no. “You don’t have to say anything.” He stayed at the spot by the door, not daring to take a step closer to you. “I’m the one who fucked it all up. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. When you said…” he took a breath, the words you said to him still lingering in his head, too fragile to speak them out loud. “...what you said, I couldn’t even think, couldn’t even breathe. You don’t deserve that.”

“Bucky,” You cut in with a sweet voice, one he didn’t even seem to register.

“I don’t think I could love you,” He blurted out, his voice quivering at the end. He only caught a glimpse of you then, your shoulders sagging and a shaky breath leaving your lips. He hated himself. “I can’t do it. It’s not in me, not anymore, I guess. I thought distance between us would make it all disappear, somehow.” He had never admitted that, neither out loud nor in his head; he wondered if the empty feeling in his chest was that, because it couldn’t be his own heart breaking into pieces, after all. “And I’m not sure that you can love me either. There’s a lot of me, a lot of past and baggage that just… disqualifies me.”

“Buck, please. Please stop talking.” You interrupted his monologue with a small, sympathetic smile, and with that, he finally looked at you. “It’s not true. None of that is true. You deserve happiness, and love, and to feel the sun, and have a nice meal, and the plum pie from that pretentious bakery in Brooklyn.” The small laugh you both let out, locking eyes with each other, made the remaining tension disappear. “You can have all that, and everything else you may ever want or feel or need.”

“You keep saying that,” He added with a sarcastic eye roll. He sat next to you, enjoying your company as he always does, except this time, he let himself do just that: enjoy, with no second thoughts about it. With you, every time you were around, it was easy to pretend his past wasn’t hunting him every time he so much as thought of catching a break.

“I said I love you, Bucky, because I know I do. And I know, who am I to tell you all this? What could I possibly know?” He looked at you when you stopped talking. It was your turn to avoid his gaze, to look at the carpeted floor of the room as if you were counting every thread. Who were you to tell him this? God… you were everything. Nothing mattered more to him than you, than hearing your every thought, and listening to your voice. 

Bucky wondered then if there was anyone else he cared about more; he couldn’t think of anyone.

It was so unlike you to second-guess yourself, and to be responsible for that would eat him alive. His warm, flesh hand found yours in between the two of you, even if he shook and hesitated when doing so. Your eyes followed the touch, turning it over to lace your fingers with his.

“You are one of the few people here who never hid things from me, you know that?” Your hand softly squeezed his, letting him know you were there to listen. “When I came here, and everyone was almost walking on eggshells around me, you were the only one who always, no matter what, said the truth. That’s who you are to me.” His fingers squeezed yours back, a quiet moment between you as his words settled on you. “I trust you, and everything you say, I know it’s true. It's just hard for me to understand, sometimes, how you-” When the words got stuck in his throat, by the look you gave him, he knew you understood.

“How could I love you?” You asked with hurt in your tone. What he had said made you understand what he was going through. Never with pity, never trying to correct him, just genuinely hoping to understand him.

“Tell me a reason why,” He almost begged, looking straight into your eyes, as if it were something completely unthinkable. Bucky looked at you, all light and beauty in every way, with your whole heart on your sleeve, and couldn’t understand how it could be possible for someone like you to feel that over someone as broken as him. 

Letting out a deep sigh, you moved your hands from his to place them on each side of his face, your thumbs doing soft motions over his jaw to force him to look at you. “I don’t need a reason to love you, when you, everything you are, is more than enough to do so. And I needed you to know that, that I love you, because I want you to believe it. And I know you say you can’t love, but you know how, every morning, my coffee is always ready and made exactly how I take it, at the exact moment I need it? And how every time we leave for early missions and I wake up late, somehow, I keep finding granola bars in the pockets of my jacket? You sat with me while I watched that dumb series last summer, you went with me to that bookstore that had the book I had been searching like crazy, and when I couldn’t find it, you somehow found it online.”

He hadn’t even realized he did it. He just did. Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, but felt himself blushing, and knew there was no way you wouldn’t notice. He didn’t care.

“You listen, and you care. And I’m sorry, but I don’t think even Sam has ever gotten that kind of treatment.” When you laughed and your eyes sparkled, he knew right then how wrong he had been. “I’m not going to force you into anything, I promise you that, but I do want you to be sure of something.” You stood up in front of him, your hands on his shoulders, making sure he was paying attention. Not like he needed that, he could never get his eyes away from you, not anymore. “You can love, Bucky Barnes, and you do. And however long it takes you to notice that, the moment you do, I can’t wait to get to see that, with whoever you fall in love.”

You left him with a squeeze of his shoulders and a kiss on his cheek, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the memory of you smiling at him. Flashes of you appeared in his head, of all the times he, without knowing, wanted to see you happy, wanted to be the one who made you smile, to make sure you were well; of all the times he looked for you, that he wanted you, that he needed you. He had been completely oblivious to the way he had fallen for you.

It wasn’t much longer when he stormed out of the room and headed down the floor with long steps, his head peaking into every room he passed. He only rushed when the elevator chimed with its arrival at the end of the hall, barely making it on time as he stopped the door with his metal hand. You jumped a little, but relaxed when you saw it was him. “I don’t need time.” He was out of breath as he spoke, never had he ever felt like that, not even after battles.

“What do you need?” You followed his every move as he stepped into the elevator, letting it close to give you privacy.

“You,” Bucky answered your question with a smile. His hands went to hold your neck, holding it softly to angle your face up. He didn’t think it twice now, his lips found yours in a soft press, molding perfectly with each other as he savored the feeling of you so close to him, so his as he had been yours for all this time. He loved you, he had been doing so for so long. He made sure to tell you that with his kiss, with the way his tongue found yours, and you both melted into each other’s taste. He moved you until your back hit the wall, your hands holding onto his back to keep him there. He kissed until you were out of breath, until your lungs were burning and you parted with smiles.

Without moving apart, with your foreheads still touching, he whispered: “I love you, and that's all I need.” 

🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[lokisprettygirl]

Fix You Fix me (Bill Skarsgård! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Au)

Read Chapter 16 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 17

Summary : Eric gets to compete but you don't get to be there for him.. again.

Warning: 18+, some steaminess, Fat shaming, body shaming, manipulation, domestic violence, child abuse, cheating, reader has a spine, emotional abuse, reader's weight will be mentioned because the fic demands it

“They can't take this away from you..you have worked so hard for this..it's just not fair” you mumbled softly, your arms stayed wrapped around him.

“You're not going to ask what I did?” He asked, there was fear in his voice that you didn't miss.

“Do you want to tell me?” You mumbled as you looked into his beautiful green eyes.

“I don't want you to go” his eyes teared up so you cupped his cheeks.

“Where would I go Eric?” You asked him but he didn't answer you, he just kept staring in your eyes as if the truth wouldn't just come to the tip of his tongue.

As your phone began to ring you stepped away slightly to pick it up from the table, it was your mom again, you weren't going to pick up and instead focus on comforting Eric but then a message popped up.

Mom : Dad got into an accident and is in hospital.

Your eyes widened as you saw the message and immediately called her back.

You asked if he was okay but she was crying profusely and asked you to come back home for a few days as it was really serious with him, then she quickly hung up.

“Everything okay?” Eric asked as he placed his hands on your shoulder.

“I don't know, she said to come home immediately” his brows furrowed in worry as you said that. “I ..i uuhh i don't know what to do..I promised i would be there Eric..with you-”

“Hey shhh it's okay..as much as I'd need you tomorrow.. I wouldn't ever want you to not go when your family needs you..I'd do the same thing if it was me in your place -”

“So should I go?” you asked, eyes filled with tears.

“Of Course..your dad is in the hospital” he mumbled softly as he kissed your forehead to calm you down.

“I really wanted to be there with you” you finally burst into tears so he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly.

“I know..i know that..i still got you and that's enough” he paused as he caressed the back of your head “besides i might not even get a chance to compete-”

“No..don't say that..you will get the chance..they can't take that away from you”

He gave you a small smile, he didn't know his fate but your confidence in him was endearing to him.

You had to go home and pack so you kissed him goodbye, the flight to Indianapolis was at 6 in the morning. Eric promised you that he'd come to your apartment after closing the gym.

You didn't want him to stay up because he needed his rest for tomorrow but there's nothing you could have said or done to convince him otherwise.

At night you called your mom again to get the updates while you packed but she hung up quickly , stating that your father was unconscious and she was really worried. When the doorbell rang you skipped your steps to the living room. The moment you saw him your arms wrapped around him.

“Did you get a call from the federation?” You asked him so he placed his forehead down on yours and smiled. There was your answer. You knew the universe wouldn't be so cruel to him.

“Oh thank God” you mumbled softly as you kissed him. You didn't want him to lose this opportunity after he had worked so hard for months.

“Can I use your shower? I stink” he murmured softly, making you chuckle. He smelled like his body spray as usual but you wouldn't deny him a shower and a chance to stare at his shirtless, wet body afterwards.

“You can use anything you want in here” you grabbed his arm as you led him to the bedroom..

“The bathroom is here” you showed him the door so he looked at you for a moment before he took his shirt off, staring right into your soul through your eyes but yours had drifted down the moment he had grabbed the hem of his shirt. There was something undeniably erotic about the way his sculpted body looked..the sharp cut of his V-line, the veins tracing down his arms, the way every muscle seemed carved with detailed intention. You knew he was dehydrated to the bone, yet he looked insanely good. You weren’t even sure what the judging criteria were for a physique championship, but one thing was certain, he already looked like the winner.

He cleared his throat as if to say my eyes are up here.

“Damn you look like a sculpture Eric” you mumbled as you moved to the closet to grab a towel for him. There was a flush on his cheeks caused by your words, he was used to being called hot, Regina did it alot but hearing it from the woman he had secretly adored for years just hit differently.

As he went to the bathroom you fanned yourself a little to calm down before you finished the rest of the packing.

“All done?” He asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, the towel hung around his neck as he used the edge of it to dry his hair.

“Yeah..I'll come back as soon as my dad is fine so I'm not taking much”

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he approached you from behind, his arm wrapped around your waist so you placed your head down on his chest, his skin was damp and cold-

“Did you take a cold shower?”

“Yeah I always do that.. helps with the soreness and inflammation..don't change the topic”

You turned around as he said that.

“I just hope he will be okay..I'm not ready for anything to happen to him” you mumbled softly so he grabbed your chin and leaned down to kiss you.

“He'll be fine.. I would accompany you if it wasn't for the competition” your eyes teared up as he said that.

“You would”

You weren't asking, you already knew, a part of you also knew he'd drop everything if you'd ask him to go with you.

“I just wished i could have been there for you tomorrow Eric..it's the only thing bugging me..apart from the obvious anxiety I have for my dad”

A small smile curved the corner of his mouth, your words made him feel warm even though the situation was stressful.

“You will be there, you don't have to be physically there to be there with me or for me..you are here” he placed your palm over his chest, his heart beating fast.

You immediately got on your tiptoes to kiss him, soft at first..slow and lingering until the tension exploded. His arms wrapped around you tighter, pulling you flush against him as your fingers found their way into his damp hair.

He deepened the kiss, lips crashing over yours like he'd been holding back for far too long. And he had been. Years and years he had watched you from a distance, admiring you, adoring you, never having the courage to actually speak to you, let alone dream of kissing you, but this was his reality now and it was so beautiful.

You moaned softly into him as his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his touch hot against your skin. You could feel the carved ridges of his torso pressing into you, the way his chest rose and fell as you kissed him deeper, longer, desperate to burn this moment into a memory before the morning would take him away from you.

“Eric…I don't want to stop” you whispered against his lips, breathless.

“I know,” he murmured back, his voice thick with emotion and want. “I don’t want to stop either but I don't think I'd want you to leave my sight after we make love for the first time and then every time after that”

He said the sweetest things, you didn't even know how to deal with that at times.

You ended up tangled in each other on the bed a few minutes later, legs intertwined, your head on his shoulder as his fingers lazily traced circles on your back. His skin was still cold, and every now and then you stole a glance at the way the veins curved down his arms, pronounced, almost too perfect to be real.

Then you looked up at him innocently.

“Can I ask you something weird?” you mumbled as your fingers traced that particular vein that ran from his forearm to his bicep.

“Always.” he let out a small giggle.

“Can I… lick it?”

Eric blinked, startled for half a second before the corners of his mouth twitched into a boyish, amused grin.

“What?”

“Your vein..They’re just… right there. And they’re doing something to me” You shrugged, biting your lower lip.

He laughed, really laughed, his chest shaking, his forehead pressing to yours.

“Baby, I might have to start flexing all the time”

“Mmmm can I do it please? Once..want to feel how they'd feel over my tongue” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his collarbone, then slowly dragging your lips along the path of the vein down his arm, making him suck in a breath.

“You can do whatever you want with me” you smiled before your tongue slipped out.

His breath hitched, your tongue barely grazing his skin. His muscles twitched under your touch, and he exhaled shakily, the sound somewhere between a groan and a gasp. You could feel the bulge growing underneath his sweatpants.

“Shit” he muttered under his breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You let your tongue follow the line up, from his forearm to his bicep, slow and deliberate, until you reached his anterior delt, you sucked on the small but protruded vein running sideways on his delt before licking a stripe. His arm wrapped tighter around your waist as he pulled you flush against him again, lips seeking yours hungrily.

This kiss was heated now, his restraint unraveling thread by thread.

“You're unbelievable” he growled softly into your mouth, making you moan.

All the times you have heard that phrase before in your life has been said to put you down so this felt as if it had healed something broken inside of you.

“I have thought about this for so long..waited years to have your attention on me. And now you’re here...on top of me..licking my veins”

You laughed breathlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he flipped you underneath him.

He dipped his head down, lips trailing a blazing path along your jaw, then your throat before he placed his head between your chest and rested to calm down the growing arousal and the giant erection between his legs.

“Mmm give me your phone I'll set an alarm”

Alarm was set on your individual phones, you didn't want to keep him up all night, he already had a tough day and he had even a bigger one tomorrow so after dinner you cuddled him to sleep. The anxiety regarding your dad and the upcoming flight didn't let you drift off.

When the clock hit 3 you quietly sneaked out of the bed, wrote a note for him to wake up to and then grabbed your bag to leave for the airport.

You didn't think you were ready for the airport goodbyes with him just yet.

He needed his sleep for the big day so you had set his alarm accordingly.

When Eric woke up to an empty bed around 7, his hand reached out instinctively, patting the crumpled sheets, your scent still lingering around him. A sinking feeling replaced the calm, relaxing sleep he had just awakened from. He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair, his brows furrowed.

It was too quiet in your apartment and that could mean only one thing.

Then his eyes fell upon the folded note resting on the pillow beside him, so he picked it up, his eyes tearing up even before he had read the first word.

"Eric, Baby

I think I'd like to call you that too :)

I know I should’ve awakened you to say goodbye, but I couldn’t. You needed your rest, and I didn’t want to mess that up, not today, not when you’ve worked so damn hard for this.

I’m scared, I won’t lie, about my dad and about being away from you. But I feel stronger than I’ve ever felt, and I think you're the reason for that. You have no idea how at peace I am at the moment, knowing that when I come back, you'd be here.

I left the spare key to my apartment on the kitchen table. My place is a few blocks closer to the gym than yours ;)

If you want to stay there while I’m gone, feel free baby. Mi casa Su casa.

I was hoping to help you cover those tattoos today but since I can't please send me the picture after you're done covering them up, I'm sorry i gave you one more thing last night to cover up ;) ”

He chuckled between the tears as he traced his fingertips over the hickey on his neck.

“But it's not my fault you're Adonis incarnate. You’ve got this today. You'll do your best, I know, if you get nervous just think of how you're doing this for Patricia and to make Mr. Kronos feel proud up there but most importantly think of yourself because you deserve that.

Like you said, I’m with you, even if I’m not there. Always remember you don't have to hide from me, nothing would ever change how precious you're becoming to me with each passing moment.

All the squats to you ;) see what i did there? Call me after the event, you're already a winner.

Y/n”

Eric exhaled slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile even as his heart ached with the absence of you. He pressed a soft kiss on the note, letting the silence of the room wrap around him.

*******

Around 3 you finally reached Indiana, grabbed your luggage from the baggage claim and immediately took the cab to go to your parents' house. You wanted to go straight to the hospital but your mom wanted you to keep the luggage at the house first and that made sense.

You unlocked the phone and there was a message from Eric sent an hour ago. The competition was about to commence in an hour or two in LA so you knew you won't hear about it until later in the evening due to the three hour time difference.

Eric : And for you baby. You're a part of my motivation too now. Never forget. Text me when you land.

You smiled as you read the message even though the closer you got to your parents house, the more anxious you felt.

You : In the cab now. Send me a picture.

As you reached the house your mother opened the door for you, you immediately hugged her in order to comfort her but she seemed..fine? On the phone yesterday she sounded so hysterical, that is what had kept you up at night.

As you stepped into the living room your eyes fell upon a familiar looking bag but it could have been just a coincidence.

“Somebody is here?” You turned to ask her so she gave you a smile before she grabbed your arm and took you to her bedroom.

The moment you entered you saw your father on the bed so you immediately ran to hug him. You felt a wave of relief wash over you at the sight of him looking much better than the horror you had been imagining in your head but then the relief was replaced with a confusion.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, stepping away a little from him.

“I'm fine..just a broken ankle that will take a month to heal” you looked at him, the cast on his ankle was visible but overall you couldn't see any other injuries on him.

As you turned to your mom to ask why she had made it seem as if he was in the ICU or something was when you heard the bathroom door opening and saw someone step out. Your blood ran cold as your eyes met with him.

“The moment I informed him he came immediately to see your father.. isn't that sweet of him??” You looked at your mother as she spoke incredulously. Anger was building up slowly in your veins.

“Yesterday you called me and said dad was in a huuuuuge accident...hugee”

“He was ..he fell down the stairs..it was really bad-” your jaw clenched at the nonchalant response.

“Yeah but he's fine..why did you .. and what the fuck he's doing here?” Your voice raised slightly as you gestured towards Jake, not bothering to even look at him.

Your mother blinked at your sudden outburst, clearly taken aback, but you didn’t care. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Jake stood awkwardly near the bathroom door, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes cast down like he was trying to play the part of a misunderstood good guy. As if he hadn't cheated on you and made you feel not enough for the past years.

“Don’t talk to me like that” your mom snapped, a little sharper than necessary. “What is this behaviour? You should be relieved that your father is okay”

You crossed your arms as she said that, eyes tearing up with anger and the feelings of betrayal combined.

“It's not about that…of course I'm relieved he's okay but why did you make it sound like he was dying or something” you shot back at her.

“She just got worried, you know your mother” your dad said quietly from the bed, trying to ease the tension between you two.

“She called me crying, saying you were seriously hurt and in the hospital and that doctors were worried you won't make it” you said, your voice cracking just a little. “I left everything. I missed Eric’s competition. He wanted me to be there and I promised him I would, and I—” You stopped yourself before you could go further, before your voice would give out completely.

There was a long, heavy silence in the room before your mother sighed deeply.

“I didn’t mean to exaggerate” your mom said, not quite meeting your eyes. “I was just... scared. And I didn’t want you to wait to book a ticket.”

“You manipulated me into coming..because you knew about his competition…you're chronically online” you said, your tone flat and filled with disgust at the same time.

“Let's not even discuss that murderer in our house” she said quietly.

Your breath caught in your throat. You stared at her, your lips parted in disbelief, as the tears rolled down your cheeks you quickly wiped them away.

“What did you just say?” you asked, voice trembling, not from fear, but fury.

Your mother didn’t flinch. She crossed her arms, lifted her chin slightly, and repeated,

“I said, let’s not discuss that murderer in our house”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Unbelievable” you muttered, shaking your head slowly. “You don’t even know him”

“I know enough,” she snapped. “I looked him up. I know what kind of people you’re surrounding yourself with now. Seriously y/n going from a man like Jake to that mongrel -”

“Enough..that's enough” you raised your voice even louder, even your father who usually preferred to intervene and side with her didn't say anything this time. “You google searched him and that makes you believe that you know him? And you think you know…himmm?” You said as you pointed towards Jake again.

“We are your parents..we are worried about your rash decisions”

“Worried?” you cut in “So your solution to being worried was to manipulate me with a fake emergency and then invite my cheating narcissistic ex to play house here with you two?”

“He came for your father..you should be grateful” she responded, making your jaw clench shut.

Jake shifted in his spot but you continued to ignore his existence.

“Eric isn’t a murderer or a criminal” you said, your voice shaking with rage and pain. “He has been through hell, he might not be perfect in your eyes but he’s kind, and he’s good to me, and he’s more of a man than this pathetic excuse of a man could ever be” you snapped at last.

“Woah I didn't come here to cause problems or get insulted ...repeatedly” Jake intervened but you didn't respond, you barely let out a scoff.

“Honey please stay..we need you..let me just talk some sense into her” your mother said to him so he nodded before stepped out of the room.

Then she turned to you.

“That man of yours,” she sneered “with his tattoos and his temper, he looks like he crawled straight out of a jail cell. He’ll ruin you. Just like every bad decision you’ve ever made”

You blinked in disbelief, the venom in her words hurt much worse than ever before.

Maybe it was because you were finally starting to stick up for yourself and what was important to you.

“He will not ruin me” you said quietly. “Believe it or not but he's the one fixing me slowly..fixing what you both have ruined”

Silence fell over the room again. Your mother’s lips parted, maybe to defend herself, maybe to deny it but you didn’t give her the chance.

“All my life, you made me feel like nothing I ever did was good enough, I was too fat, too short, too talentless , nothing I ever did made you feel proud. You never cared how I felt, you just cared about how I looked from the outside and i thought that was right, that it was okay to be treated that way so i starved myself at times in the hope that i wouldn't embarrass you two at a family functions.

And then i found a man, a relationship and I got comfortable for once and the moment i did he began chiding me for it, insulting me for gaining weight and I kept thinking that it was okay for him to do it because he was worried about me..because if my parents treated me the same way all my life so it must be okay for him to do that too..right?” Your voice cracked as eyes filled with tears, but you didn’t stop.

“And now that I’ve found someone who sees me for who I really am…someone who cares about me, someone who stood up for me when nobody else did, not even your so called Jake, for once I'm genuinely happy and that bothers you .. because if I'm happy and not sharing my troubles with you then what will you get to complain about?”

She looked away, and your father finally spoke, his voice low, almost a whisper.

“Y/N... please... let’s just calm down.”

You turned toward him, your voice softening for a second.

“I am calm, Dad. I’m calm enough to know I’m not going to stand here and listen to her insult my boyfriend when all he had ever done for me is make me happy, he's the reason I am starting to look at myself in the mirror and not feel disgusted by what I see and you two wouldn't even give him a chance because he has a past”

Your father looked down, his face heavy with guilt, like he was realizing for the first time in his life just how much you had kept buried and how much his actions had hurt you. But your mother still didn't meet your eyes. Her arms were crossed tight, like she was trying to shield herself from your words, words that were finally cutting deeper than she'd expected.

“I gave up something really important to be here,” you continued, voice firm. “Eric was counting on me. I had promised I’d be there for him but I'm not and I'll never forgive you for this” you said as you turned to your mother again.

“Forgive us? We raised you. We sacrificed for you. And this is what we get?”

“No” you said firmly, stepping closer. “You raised a weak spineless girl who thought she only deserved love when she was perfect.. I'm not that girl anymore”

“You’re being so dramatic y/n..good god” she muttered, but her voice had lost its bite.

You didn't answer her but turned to your dad one last time. “I’m glad you’re okay. I really am. But I’m not staying here for now, the lying wasn't enough she had to go bring the man who slept with god knows how many women behind my back”

Your mother scoffed as she heard that

“So you’re going to run back to him now when you just got here? You think he's a saint? That he won't be with other women behind your back? That's what men do-’” your mother spoke again but she was cut off.

“Honey stop-” your father interrupted her “That's enough”

His voice was the final nail in the coffin, your mother looked at him as if she couldn't believe it that he was speaking against her and taking your side.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your jeans so you took it out.

Eric : Tats all covered up.

I wish you were here to do this but Chance did a great job. How's Mr. Y/l/n? Mama wanted to speak to him, I hope he's out of danger, let me know and send him best wishes, don't feel pressured though, just let her know how he is, she was worried.

Your eyes welled up even further as you read his text, this was the man that your mother wanted to demonise because of what he had to do to protect his mother from the monster of a father.

You typed a response and pressed send before you walked towards your dad to hug him again.

“I'll visit soon..i just really need to be there after he wins”

You said to him so he nodded. You walked past your mother, not even looking at her, in the living room Jake kept staring at you as you grabbed your luggage but you wanted to pretend as if he didn't exist, no words could have hurt him more than your ignorance of his existence would. He thrived on the attention he got from belittling you and you never wanted to give him that satisfaction ever again.

*********

“Hey …is she seated in her place?” Eric asked as Chance came backstage to see him.

“Yeah don't worry..Shelly and Stella are there with her”

Eric nodded but then his phone buzzed so Chance gave it to him.

You : You're so beautiful in every way. My dad is fine..I texted Patricia. Network is a bit messy here ..if I'm unreachable don't worry please.

Can't wait to kiss every little inch of your godly body 👅;)

He read the message, a blush crept across his cheek at the last line and for some reason he could tell you were hiding something from him.

******

On the other side, you had booked a flight already for the 8 at night, you'd land around 5 as per the LA timezone. You weren't going to tell him anything until he was in front of you.

You needed him face to face because you were going to tell him the truth, tell him how you were falling so deeply in love with him.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Taglist @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer @purplerainx1 @bloodykisserr @muchwita @mariaenchanted @a-differentbrandof-beans @kikibit @venuslayla23-blog @somedayimagines @sn0wybowie-blog

[halcyon-writings]

nav.

a conversation between the two of you when there is no prying eyes or ears. (non!mc reader)

You had taken more tests today. Each more rigorous than the one before it. But the Professor had found your progress satisfactory and so you were given leave.

For a while you sat, alone and undisturbed by others on the Fleet's base. Your eyes absentmindedly watching those on the tarmac below, watching them move and how they guide any plane or helicopter that landed.

A small yet steaming cup of coffee is placed beside you, as you barely spare it a glance. The one the hand belonged to watches you until you shrug. You don't bother to give the coffee a tentative blow or two, the steaming drink a welcome reprieve from nutrient smoothies that felt more like sludge.

"Are you okay?" You don't meet the concerned gaze. Still watching outside through the window, the coolness of the glass against your forehead.

"What a silly question," Is your response. The soft tap of the paper cup, empty, seemingly echoes in the debriefing room. As you inhale, your breath fogs the window, and absentmindedly, you raise a hand, drawing random shapes with your finger tips until the fog disappears.

Caleb clears his throat awkwardly, but he isn't discouraged from sitting down near you. "Ah, right." For a man with such an intimidating reputation, he could be quite the awkward guy.

It's quiet again.

"And you?" You ask instead, and finally, your eyes move away from the tarmac, moving to glance at the Colonel. He falters for a moment, but quickly nods.

"I'm okay, things are... good," He says, his tone careful. You know what he alludes to, or rather, whom. You nod. There were always eyes or ears around whether one liked it or not. But since it is the two of you, you know that neither will say anything if prodded.

"Viper has been sniffing around too much," Caleb exhaled, his brow furrowing. Ah, right. The Professor's "prodigal" child.

"That's most likely because he has no one to torment,” You murmur, resting your cheek against your knee. “The last few chip implants have failed. The Professor isn’t happy. Viper even got nervous when he got angry.”

You watch how his expression changes. To satisfaction, to wariness, and then finally, becoming blank.

“A shame.”

You snort.

It is Caleb who breaks the silence again, “I saw someone. You know who. They snuck onto the Fleet’s base.”

Your knowledge about them was vague. Caleb’s childhood best friend, growing up together under the same roof. Now working as a hunter in Linkon, the basic things. You had insisted upon it, never knowing when someone was listening or if you having this knowledge would be used against him.

However, you can’t help but laugh, as you nod, “And they’re okay? No snake related issues in that regard, I hope?”

Caleb’s eyes crinkle in the corners, but he shakes his head. You smile, relief grows within you.

“You should keep her far from here,” You say, “Otherwise they’ll take and take until there’s nothing left.”

Caleb stands, your words must have touched some kind of nerve, however, before he snaps or says anything, you raise a hand in a peaceful gesture, “Don’t try and deny it, Colonel, it’s true.”

He tries to speak, but nothing comes out. You turn fully to face him.

“Do you love her?” You ask, curiously tilting your head, still sitting on the small ledge before the window. Love had been taken from you long ago. If you could mourn, perhaps you’d feel a little sad.

Instead of the floor, he now looks at you, his smile is sad too.

“I love them with all of my heart,” He says, his eyes meeting your own directly.

You can’t help but wonder why his expression makes your heart twist.

[fabuloustrash05]

The Z Fighters is one of my favorite representations of a what male friend group is that I have ever seen.

These idiots will not see each other for months to years at a time and when they do see each other again they pick up right where they left off like nothing happened. And they each play a specific role in their friend group:

Goku is definitely the heart of the group, the one who is friends with everyone. He’s the reason the group are friends and all know each other to begin with. He’s the glue that keeps everyone together.

Gohan and Piccolo are the duo who are inseparable. If Gohan is going, then you can guarantee that Piccolo will be going too and vice versa. No one really tries to get in between them, it feels wrong to separate them. Their friendship is that strong. Piccolo also is that friend who won’t show up to a get together unless Gohan is there.

Vegeta is that friend who joined the group very later down the line. He doesn’t have that nostalgic vibes like everyone else has and he’s just close with like one or two people in the group. He’s that friend who when at a party will follow around one person he knows very well and refuses to interact with anyone else so god forbid he loses that person at the party, otherwise he don’t know what he’ll do cause he doesn’t know/like the other people.

Krillin and Yamcha are those friends spamming the group chat at like 3am. They are constantly sending memes to one another in the chat instead of their own personal conversation. They are very likely the reason Vegeta turned off his notifications.

Tien is that friend who leaves everyone on read but will suddenly reply to the chat once in a blue moon. He won’t respond if the group is planning something, so no one knows if he’ll be there cause he hasn’t said anything, but when the day comes, he shows up which surprises everyone.

Bulma is the designated girl member of the guy group. She’s just a natural fit and works well with each of them due to history and nostalgia with each guy member, but also because she’s the one who pays for everything, or is the one who chips in the most out. She’s also the person Vegeta follows around at the parties.

[spotlightlowlife]

I avoid the fandom these days yet I've seen this, it's a massive pet hate of mine that 'autism' is used to explain away anything 'problematic' simply because said character is liked but when someoneis disliked however, no excusing anything and it's all fair to mock disability.

Stella struggling actually fits, if this became a real part of her character it wouldn't be a retcon or out of place since we got nothing of her other than being rightfully upset at being cheated on in season one the season two almost confirming her losing access to a lot of what she had, atleast the palace?

We don't know where she lives and if it lives up to what she had.

We don't know how the scandal affected her reputation or any opportunities.

Without her 'purpose' of providing an heir which she did as a teenager and being Stolas's spouse, Stolas who seemed educated from childhood and seems to have some form of work, where is she left? She appears to have entered into a marriage as a child with no assets and she appears to have gained none, her lineage isn't a thing.

Her life looks like one of just hanging out with friends making the most of her situation and marital spoils, something you don't need much skills to do, with good enough status you can pull off a friend group even poor social skills, but does she even have her friends anymore?

For all we know she doesn't have anything and is now as good as under her brother's conservatorship. May sound dramatic but prove otherwise?

Maybe she's just heavily neglected and always has been, maybe she couldn't do anything for herself even if she had to, maybe being rich and born towards the top of the pyramid renders inability no big deal?

Yes, Stella with a learning disability, born with it or a product of neglect works. It works much better than 'Stolas has autism' when he is actually very clear within his entitlement and his misery is understandable, it's like that of a little child not getting their way.

For more proof of abelism and being selective when offering real disabilities to favoured fictional characters, we have the character Mammom.

Someone who has been shown to be pulling off way too many different ideas at once, impatient, bored easily, sticks to the rules and stays in his lane, doesn't have good people skills and is mocked for how much nobody likes him, something he doesn't seem to care about, he has allowed himself to be disrespected on each occasion we have seem him and he's confirmed Asexual, this gets a mention because nobody desiring him is a subject of mockery too. Why? Cherry on top is that he's seen playing with toys, specifically common stim toys and children's toys.

Still, his hate mob is strong.

If Stolas Can Get The Autism Sympathy Card, I Can Play Stella Has A Reading/Learning Disability

Given how much is babied for being headcanonned as autistic, I will counter stans with why Stella appears dumb is because of an undiagnosed disorder. It's something along the lines of dyslexia, dysgraphia, and/or dyscalculia but her family has never cared to get her labeled because seeing one of their own being seen as imperfect would ruin things. So as a result, she comes off as seeming dumb but in reality she's never gotten help. Her own help doesn't care as well since he looks down on her and revels in being seen as smarter than her.

[hibernating-stag]

Thinking about how Venom and Robo-Ky started out as two deeply lonely individuals that ended up fitting together so well that they became two halves of a whole and getting emotional about it. Getting weepy. Misty eyed even.

[blueikeproductions]

I think a lot of this might be due to fandom culture, especially more modern fans that came in during MTMTE, TFONE and EarthSpark, only having the immediate context of those depictions of Megatron, and either choosing not to engage with anything else or just being flabbergasted Megatron is actually a proper tyrant on older media and Skybound.

Prime and Cyberverse both try to depict a repenting Megatron, but again same problem, some of the loudest fans of these factions only choose to recognize Megatron as trying to be good or otherwise sympathize more with the Decepticons as would be rebels against a corrupt government (of which we’re only told about sparingly and never actually shown mind you).

There’s a similar subset that insists on Sideswipe and Sunstreaker being close brothers and how important that is to their character when the 80’s cartoon barely used either of them, with Sideswipe usually going solo when Hasbro remembers he exists like in RiD15. It’s even a plot point Sideswipe in that show has abandonment issues and craves a form of stability, so Sunstreaker was clearly never a part of his life (that we know of), with Bee being the only yellow car that looks after him. Even Devastation, the closest thing to a G1 continuation with the surviving cast we’re gonna get, chooses to depict Sideswipe on his own, no Sunstreaker. (Though aside from Wheeljack, the Autobots chosen for the game are suspiciously similar to RiD15, so synergy wins out, I guess.)

As for Megatron, yes, he’s always depicted as a corrosive force that sometimes employs some sort of brain washing.

Beast Machines said it best.

Beast Wars/Machines Megatron in particular enjoyed reprogramming other Transformers to suit his needs, especially with his total control of Cybertron using mindless Vehicons.

The show was not at all subtle about the facist under tones.

I mean his grand plan was to ultimately vore the entire population of Cybertron as part of a grand ascension to Robo-Godhood.

A scheme he practically succeeded in accomplishing!

Until Optimus pushed him off a cliff into Cybertron’s organic core that is.

G1 Megatron and related variants like in Skybound are perfectly complicit in Autobot genocide only really viewing the Decepticons as tools for his “violent” ideals.

While G1 Megatron cartoon wise was content with barbs, insults and occasionally helping Optimus against a common foe (usually one created by Megatron that started to personally affect him…)…

Megatron was shown to use devices like the Robosmasher to reprogram other robots on Cybertron to beef up the Decepticons, which is how (one version) of the Constructicons became Decepticons, and he almost got Omega Supreme too.

(Incidentally the Autobots had tried using special disks to control the Constructicons also, as a means to get Devastator on their side as a war time advantage, and while it is sketchy, it is still a war, even the Heroic Autobots sometimes make hasty decisions if it means gaining advantage. The Constructicons were apparently good guys on Cybertron so you could argue the Autobots changed them back to good, but even then… war makes fools of us all.)

When Megatron was upgraded into Galvatron and disappeared, the Decepticons were in disarray without a proper leader, and so sought to find and bring back Galvatron… only to find his circuits became scrambled after the battle with Unicron, with Galvatron beating up the Decepticons just as much as the Autobots.

It got so bad, the other Decepticons forced Cyclonus to do something about it or else they’d start killing Galvatron themselves or let the Autobots do it.

The episode in question and some episodes before hand aren’t sugar coating it that Galvatron has clear brain damage, but if nothing else, the damage to his circuits let him run without inhibitions getting in the way as Megatron. Megatron was willing to put aside his grievances to solve a mutual problem, Galvatron would kick Rodimus in the face and just make the problem worse after punching the Sweeps in the groin.

Also G1 Megatron killed Orion Pax after taking advantage of the young Optimus’ admiration of him to take him to the Energon Megatron required.

Armada Megatron is of a similar viewpoint, going so far as trying to blow up Earth with the Hydra Cannon.

Megatron does not mess around.

While this version did work alongside Optimus to defeat Unicron, it wasn’t a smooth alliance, with some mistakes on Galvatron’s part seeing Unicron almost win, and in defeat Galvatron sought to resume the conflict in a one on one duel with Prime. Afterwards in Energon and Cybertron, Galvatron increasingly became more deranged wanting to use Unicron’s corpse and the black hole to destroy the universe so he could reshape it as seen fit. He was more than happy to throw his remaining troops to the wolves, not caring if they were destroyed by the black hole when asked about it.

And as noted, TFP Megatron sought to use Dark Energon to raise a zombie robot army on Earth and Cybertron to decimate the Autobots and ravage the planet.

G1 Marvel Megatron would succeed in a similar plan during ReGeneration One to boot!

So yeah Megatron is not the well meaning Grunkle some want him to be, he is Metal as slag, and does what he feels like to win and rub it in Optimus’ face.

Also early plot points for Bay Megatron are pretty up front he’s a cannibal.

Boltax anon

I think its weird that so many are treating megatron brainwashing the decepticons as if its a new thing.

It existed across g1, beastwars, the unicron trilogy, and a number of other depictions.

Megatron being an evil son of a bitch is by no means new, and its confusing for me that people are complaining about it when its such a major and core part of his character in most adaptations.

Hell, even tfp had him controlling droves of corpses and stuff.

Is thia just an adaptation preference thing or do most of the people who are taking issue just not all that familiar with the hiatory of the character?

*

[urproblematicfav-arsonk]

More random joke dialogue with no fic home to go into yet

[squorttle-pox]

please. i need alastor with his hair up so we can see the side of his head. second set of ears or smooth flesh prairie?

[patchyworx]

People talk about fast metabolisms like it's all fun and games and eating whatever you want but they fail to remember that it also means your body is Incredibly Stupid and decides that you become deficient in everything in a couple or so days where it takes most others a week. Or months compared to "oops you forgot to photosynthesize sufficiently :( no i don't care that it has been freezing and overcast for the past week, you didn't absorb enough sun. Perish Badly."

Or at least it would be if i didn't like citrus fruits so much, probably

[cicidraws]

i miss how i felt before this year.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Looks like that video is about a month & a half after The Trade and trevors broken ankle 😣

re: this video… anon 😭 i had suspicions but it is so much worse to have them confirmed that really was like. trevor’s first Public Appearance without jamie AND post-broken ankle which is traumatic in and of itself no wonder every beat reporter was like ‘oh yeah trevor’s just devastated’

wouldn’t you be miserable too if your best friend just got traded and your body betrayed you and what if it was maybe all your fault!!!