#don’t let the fact that I’m reading a real book in public fool you

[thelibraryloser]

I’m the librarian that gets to cover the new books and I read all the inside flaps while I’m covering them and then based on that synopsis I play a little game called which fandom was this originally fanfic for?

[fandom-puff]

Idiots Like Lockhart

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Requested by: anon (mix of two requests as they were VERY similar)

Summary: Lockhart’s shameless flirting is getting to you.

AN: so the first of the kinktober fics is queued up! Things are getting busy w school (and I also recently got animal crossing new horizons and Tom Nook do be keeping me in debt) so things may be slow or erratic in terms of uploads.

Warning: unwanted flirting

“Good morning, YN!”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you plastered a strained smile on your face as you turned to your colleague.

“Morning, Gilderoy,” you said politely, before turning back to your porridge. You didn’t need to look to your other side to know that Severus was tensing up.

“I trust you got my owl?”

Sighing, you set your spoon down. “I did, Gilderoy. The answer is still no, no matter how many autographed pictures you put in the envelope. I’m not going to the Three Broomsticks with you,” with a huff, you abandoned your breakfast and made your way to your classroom, really not in the mood for Lockhart’s pathetic flirting today. If Severus would just come out and say that you were together, you wouldn’t have this issue. Everyone on the staff already knew you had been a couple for two years now, so you didn’t see the point in hiding it from Lockhart. Perhaps Severus merely wanted to wait for the right opportunity (he was a bit of a drama queen with his sweeping black robes and low drawling voice) but still.

In an increasingly foul mood, you groaned when you spotted a lilac envelope on your desk, your name written in swirly purple handwriting. Pursing your lips, you swept it aside, soon letting your first class in. The lesson went without a hitch until a giggling group of third year girls saw your envelope.

“Oooo, is that from Professor Lockhart?” One girl asked, her friends squealing slightly when you nodded. “Oh! Open it professor! I bet he fancies you! Imagine that, a real life celebrity sending our teacher love notes!”

You sighed and kept a level head. “Miss Beckett, my correspondence with my colleagues is none of your concern, do remember that,” you said, gently but firmly, before holding up the note. You read it quickly to yourself and rolled your eyes, before tapping it smartly with your wand and muttering ‘incendio’. Several of the girls gasped as the pretty paper burst into flames, but a few of the boys grinned.

You swept the ashes into your waste paper bin, before turning to the chalkboard, the chalk magically beginning to write as you explained the basics of the new topic you were covering with your class. All was going fine until there was a burst of knocking on your door. You flicked your wand at it to open it, half expecting a student on a message from another professor.

Instead, you were met with the sight of someone who was quickly moving up your list of least favourite people. “Professor Lockhart,” you said through gritted teeth. “Is there a problem? Surely not another one of your practical lessons have descended into chaos? I’d expect better from such an... accomplished wizard,” your backhanded comment did not go unnoticed- someone muttered from the back of the class ‘I thought that vampire seemed a bit stupid!’

Lockhart’s boyish grin fell slightly, but he stepped into the room. “YN-”

“Professor YLN, if you don’t mind,” you said cooly, turning back to your chalkboard. There was a snort of laughter from the left of the room which was quickly covered up by a fake cough. “Now, class, it’s a common misconception that the-”

“YN, please, just listen to me! I understand your worries, but a little drink at the three broomsticks will do no harm. We won’t get hounded by paparazzi, darling. If you’re that worried about a public scandal, I can put a concealment charm on you,” he said, smirking as he winked at a few of the students. His arrogance caused anger to finally flare up inside you. The chalk clattered to the floor as your focus was torn away from teaching.

“Professor Lockhart, I suggest you leave my classroom this instant before I hex you into next month,” you said, eyes flashing with rage. “And for the record, I would never go anywhere with an arrogant, self-centred, immature fool like you, no matter how many pathetic love notes and inappropriate interruptions to my lessons you make. As a matter of fact, I’ll be reporting the harassment to Professor Dumbledore, so tread very carefully, Gilderoy, or so help me god,” you glared at him, your wand clutched tightly in your hand. “Now get out and leave my class in peace. We have important content to learn,” you had slowly been backing him out of the room and slammed the door in his face, before storming back to your desk. “Books out. Answer the questions on the board,” you instructed your class.

“That was brilliant, Professor!” Someone commented and you couldn’t help the small smile that twitched on your lips.

“Thank you, Benjamin,” you said bashfully, before burying yourself in your work. You dismissed the class when the bell went, and sighed. You wanted nothing more than to curl up with Severus, but you still had a few more classes to teach.

***

Later that day, you and the majority of the staff were sat around in the staff room, drinking tea and chatting, although you kept to yourself. Most had heard about your rant at Lockhart, but you still hadn’t seen Severus- what if he was angry? What if all this was simply too much for him?

When he swept into the room with Lockhart on his coat tails, jabbering on about a duelling club, you tossed your book aside. Without really thinking, you flung yourself into sev’s arms, burying your face in his neck. Minerva and Albus smiled at one another, knowing how much comfort you sought in each other’s arms as Severus rubbed your back, frowning. “Are you alright, my love?” He murmured, kissing your temple.

“Much better now I’m with you,” you replied, pulling back and pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. Without another word, you walked back to your shared chambers in the dungeons as you explained what had you so tense that day.

Lockhart was left gaping, his mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out, rather like a goldfish. “She... what... HIM?” He said incredulously looking around the staffroom.

“Oh yes,” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “Severus and YN... such a strong love they have for one another...” he hummed, popping a sherbet lemon into his mouth and looking off dreamily.

“You’re very welcome to place your bet, Gilderoy,” said Professor Sprout grinning. “So far ive got 10 galleons on it happening by easter, Filius bets 15 by Valentines Day, and we’ve got Minerva betting 50 by the New Year half term! Should I put you in the book?”

“Betting? What for?” Lockhart demanded.

“On when Severus will propose to YN,” Flitwick said brightly.

“Speaking of which, Pomona, I want to change my bet to October half term. Something tells me Severus isn’t likely to leave it any longer...”

Tags: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @strawberriesonsummer @rabeccablake @sambucky8 @eleven-times-lively @talksoprettyjjx @extra-trash77 @rangerelik @dracosbbygorl @simonsbluee

[mrsnegan]

I am here with another request. It’s where college student!reader desperately tries to seduce her college professor(Negan), and after a full semester of trying she quits. Until she bumps into Negan in the hallway and he asks her why she stopped or something and they have sex.

Please and thank you💛🌟

[I'm sorry this took so long to write, life got in the way and in the last few days I finally found the time to work on your request. Professor/student AU is one of my favorites, so I had lots of fun writing this for you. I hope you enjoy reading it! 💛]

Warnings: smut, swearing, rough blowjob, bodily fluids, unprotected sex

One full semester you had tried to get his attention. One full semester of hoping to make him notice you, want you. You sounded desperate, even in your own ears, you knew, but you couldn't help yourself. He was the wet dream of any student, tall, dark and handsome with a deep voice and dimples which made you swoon. And he was your professor, a fact which you often tried to ignore. Your attraction towards him was borderline obsessive by the point the semester reached its end. So the only thing saving your sanity was to stop this desperate shit show of a seduction. He wouldn't notice you anyway. Of course your clothes didn't define your worth but they helped to get attention from time to time, so you wore all the sexy outfits your wardrobe had to offer. What a bratty behavior, you thought to yourself, though it hadn't stopped you to wear those skirts and tops which made you feel absolutely irresistible in front of him. To your dismay, he didn't seem to notice, a fact which frustrated you greatly. So your skirts got longer again, your tops less revealing.

As the days went by, your lectures with Professor Negan turned out to be the same as always, and by the end of the last one for the semester, you even felt relieved to have a break from staring at this handsome devil for hours. Despite him not even looking at you once, you had a hard time looking at him without drenching your panties.

You decided to return your books to the library but Helen, a friend of yours, invited you for a coffee in your favorite place not far away from campus. By the time you both said goodbye after a super relaxing afternoon of talking and laughing, you remembered your books. Checking the opening hours of the library, you had half an hour left to get business done. So you walked back, returning the books just in time. What you didn't expect was to run into Professor Negan on your way out, nearly knocking his coffee out of his hand.

"Ugh, sorry, Professor", you said, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. You always made a fool of yourself in front of those people who you found attractive. And up close, he was even more attractive than behind his desk during lectures.

"It's alright, Y/N, no need to apologize." He winked at you with this million dollar smile of his, accentuating his dimples.

You gulped visibly, nodding absently while walking past him to exit the library. What you didn't expect was to hear his low voice behind your back.

"By the way, where did your sexy as fuck skirts go? Laundry day?"

You whipped around, flabbergasted.

"Excuse me?"

He took one step in your direction, smirking wildly.

"I wanted to know why you don't wear those nice skirts anymore. I loved watching your ass in those."

With your mouth slightly agape, you just stared at him. No way did he notice your attempts without you noticing it. Had you been this blind?

"I...I thought you..."

"You thought I wouldn't notice? Oh sweetheart, I'm just good at hiding it, couldn't risk someone seeing my boner whenever your lovely tits more or less dangled in front of my face."

There was no way for you not to turn bright red under his heated gaze.

"Are you...making fun of me?" you asked, insecure about this whole situation.

He laughed lightly, emptying his coffee and throwing it into the bin a few feet away effortlessly. Everything he did, how he moved and talked seemed effortless to you.

"I would never make fun of you, Y/N. Not my style. Especially not when you're reacting this cute even if you must have known how absolutely naughty your whole behavior has been."

You couldn't stop your arousal at his words, him flirting with you made your heart nearly jump out of your chest.

He took another step towards you, then another until he only was a breath away from you.

"You need it bad, don't you, sweetheart? Need to be fucked real good by someone who knows how to handle you."

The moan leaving your lips didn't surprise you at all. His voice alone did things to you, you couldn't believe this was happening for real.

"How often do you imagine me inside of you, huh?"

For the first time since running into Professor Negan, you looked into his eyes. You could swear the desire in them would swallow you whole.

"Too...too often to count", you answered truthfully.

Without any other word, Professor Negan grabbed your hand, dragging you with him towards the part of the library which was used by staff and university teachers only.

He unlocked a door to a room with bookshelves, some desks and chairs in it and locked it after the both of you were inside.

At first, you just stared at him with wide eyes, your thoughts running wildly in your head, then he took determined strides towards you, pushing you against the opposite wall with ease. The kiss that followed drove the air out of your lungs. He claimed your mouth forcefully, kissing, you senseless with his talented mouth. He tasted better than you could have imagined, so you met his ministrations with equal fervor, groping at his strong arms to find some leverage.

His tongue felt incredible inside of your mouth and you couldn't stop the thought of him kissing you down there.

His hands also wandered down your body, up again, touching as much of you as possible.

"You have no idea for how long I wanted to do this. Fuck, you drove me mad all those months."

You stared at him with bedroom eyes, his words sounded too good to be true in your head.

"I thought you didn't care, Professor", you whispered breathlessly, chest heaving.

"It's Negan for you and care I most certainly fucking do." He attacked your neck with kisses and licks, teeth lighty sinking into your skin. He was rewarded with your moan, his name leaving your lips, tasting the sound of it on your tongue.

"You know you've been a bad girl, don't you? Teasing me relentlessly and then stopping like you changed your fucking mind from one second to the other."

"Negan I...", you tried to explain, but he silenced you with his index finger against your lips.

"Non of that. I know you need to be fucked badly and I'm more than glad to fuck you senseless, sweetheart. But I need to punish you first. Your little outfits and all that eye-fucking could have gotten us into real trouble."

"Punish me? How? But this...this here could get us in trouble too."

Negan just smirked at you, attacking your lips once again before answering you.

"Maybe I will bend you over one of the desks and spank your gorgeous ass until you beg me to stop. Or I will choke you on my cock and make you thank me for it. And yeah, it could get us in a lot of trouble but I don't care anymore, though your little games out in public need to have consequences. So what will it be, sweetheart?"

You gulped down nervously, but aroused nonetheless. His heated gaze burned your skin in the most delicious way and as tempting as getting spanked by him sounded, you really wanted to be fed with his cock. At this point, him finally in front of you, you couldn't suppress your inner slut, so you dropped to your knees without further ado, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Fuck, dirty girl", he commented your choice, letting you open his belt, the fly and push his jeans down. You freed his glorious cock which was standing at attention the minute he ran into you. He was everything you ever dreamed of, thick and long, definitely intimidating at first sight, but you didn't care. You wanted to taste him, to please him. So you experimentally closed your hand around his base, jerking him slowly while you placed the first little kiss to his tip.

Negan hissed at your ministrations, looking down at you in awe as you worked him leisurely.

His left hand came crashing against the wall for support as you took him into your mouth. His right collected your locks into a lose ponytail, guiding your movements. After bobbing your head a few times, tasting and feeling him on your tongue, you swallowed more of him, earning a rich moan in return.

"Yeah, fuck, let me fuck your mouth", he said above you. You wouldn't want it any other way, your panties felt drenched at this point, so you happily obliged, grabbing his strong thighs for support.

He pushed his hips forward, pushing your head further down his cock in return. You gagged, of course you did, just as he said he would make you, so you tried to breath through your nose steadily, while his thrusts came quickier and more forceful. Your spit dribbled down your chin, tears rolling down your cheeks from the intrusion, but you loved every second of your punishment, of being used like this.

Negan pushed you down until your nose nearly hit his pubic hair and you sputtered around his length. The moan above you made you feel dizzy with desire and then finally, he let go of your hair, so you could pull back and suck in much needed air into your lungs.

"T-than-k y-ou", you stuttered out of breath, throat deliciously burning from his rough handling.

"There you fucking go, sweetheart, you took me so well, such a fantastically filthy mouth", he praised, helping you up on shaky legs. He kissed you once more, passionately and forceful, like he couldn't get enough of his taste on your tongue, then guided you to one of the desk, sitting you down, legs dangling off the edge.

Now it was him kneeling in front of you, opening up your legs to his hungry eyes.

"Shit, getting your mouth fucked should have been a punishment, instead your panties are fucking drenched. Dirty girl", he said smiling mischievously, rubbing you gently through the fabric of your panties.

Your hips bucked involuntarily against his hand, you wanted more, everything, all of him.

He stripped you off your panties, pushing your skirt up some more so he could spread your legs wider.

Without any other comment, his face buried itself between your thighs, surprising you with a broad link from your hole to your clit. You gasped, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

"Such a delicious pussy, ready to be fucked."

His dirty talk drove you mad and as his mouth closed over your clit, sucking you into his mouth, you completely lost it. Your moans turned louder by the second while he pleasured you in the best way possible, driving you towards new heights. His tongue was joined by his finger, pushing itself into your quivering pussy.

"Shit, Negan", you groaned, looking down at him.

Your praise spurred him on, fucking into you with his finger, lapping at your clit. He pulled his finger out of you to quickly return with two of them, fingerfucking you faster and faster. Your body shook above him, too much pleasure to handle. You came with a scream while he sucked at your clit mercilessly and reached spots inside of you which you didn't know existed.

When he re-emerged from between your thighs, his grin seemed to be even bigger.

"You have no idea for how long I wanted to taste your pussy. Always imagined something this beautiful must be hidden under your short skirts."

"And you have no idea how many times I dreamed about you eating me out", you responded, still high from your orgasm.

"Luckily for the both of us we can finally fuck each other's brains out."

"You've got a condom?" you asked him breathlessly after another heated kiss.

"No, sorry sweetheart. But I'm clean, I promise you that. Are you on the pill?"

You nod your head yes, then pull him against your shivering body.

"Fuck me raw", you whisper in his ear, his moan traveling through your whole body like lightning.

You didn't have to tell him twice as he lined himself up with your center and sank down into your heat with one smooth thrust.

He swallowed both of your moans with a bruising kiss, setting a steady pace. He stretched you so good, it felt amazing, better than you could have ever dreamed of.

"Fuck, you feel devine, Y/N. Such a good girl for me."

You moaned at his praise, relishing in the way he fucked into you. Your hands found their way around his neck while his wandered from your hips to your breasts, groping you through your blouse.

"The next time we fuck I'm gonna worship those perfect tits of yours and will take my fucking time with your body", he whispered into your ear.

"The next time?"

"Oh fuck...sweetheart, you think I would let you go after all these months of torture...and feeling how absolutely perfect you fit around my cock now? No fucking chance..."

He picked up the pace, pounding into you mercilessly. His lips against your neck and his fingers all over you drove you to your breaking point. His thumb came down on your clit and you were done for. You moaned his name over and over again while he kept thrusting into you, fucking you through your second orgasm.

"Fuck, gonna cum...", he warned you just moments after your waves of pleasure ebbed away. He pulled out, stroking himself against your thighs and came with a loud groan, painting your inner thighs with his seed.

You felt alive, sated, dirty and glorious at the same time, pressing him against you to kiss him passionately.

After long moments of nipping on each other's skin, he retreated from you, pulling his jeans up, fastening them again. With a smirk, he leaned down to collect your panties. You looked at him with an arched brow while your lips curled into a small smile.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I will buy you a new pair if you want. I just fucking love the idea of you returning home with my seed between your precious thighs and no fucking underwear. I bet you will touch yourself to the thought of what we just did. And that fantasy alone makes me wanna fuck you all over again until you can't walk straight."

---

Taglist: @iluvneganandjamie @happysgal @negans-attagirl @you-a-southpaw-doll

[skiller0dani]

More | Ethan Nestor

M A S T E R L I S T YouTube Masterlist

smut requested requests info Part 1

lately ethan is the only thing that brings a smile to my face. thank god he exists. thank god he was born. 

“Yeah, we’re just friends.” Ethan said with a shrug, adamantly avoiding Mark’s doubtful gaze. That’s the agreement you and Ethan made, you could fool around all you wanted but you were just friends. Lately, the lines felt more blurred than they had in the past, but you were still just friends. 

“Uh-huh.” Was all Mark said, but Ethan pretended not to hear him. 

Ethan didn’t know what kind of answer Mark wanted to hear, all he could tell him was the truth. No matter how painful the truth is, and painfully you and Ethan are just friends. From the first kiss, the first touch Ethan knew this was a terrible idea. Instead of outright admitting how he feels about you, he continues to go along with friends with benefits. 

He loves being able to fuck you, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want more than that. “What?” Ethan can’t stop the word as it pushes free from the confines of his mouth. Mark smirks. 

“Nothing.” 

“It’s definitely not nothing.” 

“Don’t you think it’s time you asked Y/N on a date?” Mark blurted, his hands fixing the lens as he set up the camera in front of his desk. Without meaning to, Mark presses record and fully intends to stop recording immediately when a horribly wicked thought crosses his mind. You are one of their video editors. 

“W-Why would you think that?” Ethan felt a blush crawling up his neck, he and Mark didn’t have conversations like this. 

“I know how you feel about her, you’re being a pussy.” There’s a smile on Mark’s face that lets Ethan know he’s only joking. Sort of. A nervous chuckle escapes Ethan’s lips before he can stop it, and he’s pulling at the collar of his black and white splattered t-shirt. Which coincidentally, you gave him for his birthday this year. 

“She said just friends.” Ethan sighs, knowing there’s no point lying to Mark. 

It was your idea to be ‘just friends’, you had suggested it first. That’s what keeps stopping Ethan from trying to be more, why would he when you said to his face you wanted to be just friends? 

“She said that just in case you didn’t feel the same way dude.” Mark rolled his eyes, never did he think he’d be coaching Ethan on how to communicate with a girl. Ethan shook his head, itching the back of his neck as he turned back to Mark’s desktop. Mark hoped he didn’t notice the camera recording. He didn’t. 

Deep down Mark knows that Ethan isn’t going to do anything no matter what he says to him. “Do you have feelings for her?” He asks, watching Ethan desperately avoid making eye contact with him. 

“Yeah.” 

“Then it’s worth a shot.” Mark shrugs, turning to grab for the mouse. His eyes looking into the lens as he reaches up to ‘hit record’ on the camera. Mark wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for Amy informing him on your enormous crush on Ethan. 

It was late when Ethan finally made it back to his apartment, and to his surprise he still found you curled on his couch where he left you that morning. You had a book nestled in your lap and Spencer curled at your feet, it made a warm feeling blossom in Ethan’s chest. “Hey.” 

He smiled upon hearing your voice. “Hey, I’m surprised you’re still here.” 

You blushed. 

“You have good books that you never read!” You explain with a pink blush dusted across your cheeks. Ethan kicked off his shoes with a smile, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your forehead. He wants you to be here waiting for him to get home all the time. He wants you to be waiting for him like this, not some other guy. He wants more. 

“Mind if I stay tonight?” Your question is hesitant, but instead of answering Ethan worms his way under your book and lays his head in your lap. “Have I ever?” 

He thinks about what Mark said earlier, and Ethan wishes he had the guts to outright tell you how he feels. He wished he could, but he’s not nearly brave enough for that. He knows the way he feels about you is more than a crush, it’s more real, more raw than that. He remembers all the times you’ve been there when he desperately needed you, all the times you’ve laughed at a dumb meme at 2 in the morning. Those gentle moments in the pale moonlight, those moments after sex but before sleep. When he rolls over and looks at you, and you smile shyly at him, your hands intertwined. Ethan knows your body like the back of his hand, he wants to know your heart like that. 

When Ethan first started this with you, he and Mika had just broken up. He needed someone, needed to feel someone against him. You were there when he needed you, and then the lust turned into something more. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it did and now it was consuming his every waking thought. 

You continue reading your book, your fingers aimlessly combing through Ethan’s hair. “Gonna put me to sleep.” 

You look down at Ethan to see his eyes have fluttered shut, and he’s fully nuzzled into your lap. Your heart feels like it grows 10 sizes, but you’re just friends. Friends do stuff like this...right? Before you think twice, you’re leaning over and pressing your lips to Ethan’s Spiderman style. When you pull back, Ethan’s eyes are open and focused on you. Ethan sits up when you shift under him, and his eyes widen in surprise when you sink to your knees in front of the couch where he’s sitting. 

“What are you doing?” He swallows thickly, feeling his cock already hardening in his jeans. You smile shyly, you’ve never initiated anything sexual before. It was always Ethan making the first move. “W-Well I wanted to do something nice for you. You worked all day today.” 

Ethan leaned back against the couch as your hands fumbled with his belt, before finally unbuckling it. Your hands unbutton his jeans before your hand delves into his boxers, your fingers wrapping around the hard shaft. Ethan spreads his knees apart further to allow you more room, a soft hiss escaping his mouth when you finally free him from the confines of his jeans. 

“Y/N you don’t have to-” The protest dies in his throat when you take him into your mouth, your tongue snaking under his shaft along the vein that runs all the way down to the base. His head falls back against the couch as you continue to slowly work him down your throat. Eventually one of Ethan’s hands winds into your hair, but he doesn’t tug your head. It’s more that he needs something to hold onto. Soon your nose nestled against Ethan’s pelvis, and you hear him groan softly when you swiftly pull off him. You smiled up at him, and when Ethan looked down at you his pupils engulfed most of his eyes. 

You stood and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I have to go edit the video from today. Be back in an hour or two.” 

“I thought you said you were going to do something nice!” You hear him groan loudly as you leave the room and you can’t help but laugh. 

You sit at the computer, the video pulled up in the editing software. You hear something frying in the living room so you can only assume Ethan is making dinner. Your heart races in your chest, this doesn’t feel like just friends anymore. Ethan lets you stay the night, in fact you’re over here basically every night of the week. He holds your hand, cooks for you, randomly gives you kisses. You don’t want to be friends anymore, you need to be more than that. You try to shake the thoughts from your head when you hit play. 

The conversation you hear stops you dead in your tracks. 

“Do you have feelings for her?” 

“Yeah.” 

You almost feel guilty listening to their private conversation, but when Mark looks into the lens you know it was intentional. You see the blush on Ethan’s face, you see the small smile pulling at his lips when he admits his feelings for you. Ethan has been your best friend ever since he moved to LA, and even when he was with Mika your heart raced whenever he entered the room. You felt tears pushing at the backs of your eyes, he actually feels the same way! 

Your heart races at a million miles an hour as you stand on shaky legs. All this time you thought he didn’t want more, you thought that he was content being just friends. Your heart races and happiness blooms wildly in your chest. A smile stretches across your face before you can stop it. You push out of Ethan’s office and nearly stumble as you stand numbly in the kitchen. You stand quietly and watch him for a moment, humming to himself as he continues to cook dinner. Your chest warms, you want this with him. You want it all the time, you want to be able to kiss him in public and brag because yeah he’s yours. You want sex to mean something between you two, you want it to be more than just getting off. 

“Ethan?” Your voice is shaky, as you watch him stir some pasta in a pot. 

“Hm?” 

You have so many things you want to say, but when Ethan turns to look at you it all completely unravels. His eyebrows furrow together once he sees the tears in your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face. Your mind goes blank as you look into his eyes, the tender concern laced in them as he watches you cautiously. You know what you want to say, and you know that saying it could change everything between you two forever but that’s what you want. You want things to change forever. You can’t live in limbo like this with him anymore, you need more. A tear drifts down your cheek, and Ethan has a confused and worried look on his face. 

“I love you.” The words come out softer than you thought, and for a second it felt as though time stood still. You see something flash in his eyes, and you smile wider before taking a few steps towards him. “I love you Ethan.” You whisper as you reach him, your arms winding around his shoulders. You feel immense relief as the words free themselves from your mind, finally being out in the open between you. Ethan blinks in confusion before swiftly pressing his lips against yours. The desperation that is normally laced in every kiss isn’t there this time. This time, the kiss is soft, and slow, and tender. It makes you feel weak in the knees. 

His hand reaches to turn off the stove as his other one cups your cheek to deepen the kiss. Ethan’s eyes are closed tightly, as are yours and you know your cheeks are wet with tears. “I love you Y/N.” His voice wavers and you press your lips to his once more, and soon Ethan’s hands are pulling your thighs up to lift you off the ground. He walks you through his apartment before you feel his soft sheets against your back, and he finally pulls away from you. Ethan brushes his nose against yours as he smiles down at you. Your hands slide under his shirt, pulling it off his body as you go. You lean up to press kisses to his collarbones, drawing out soft sighs from him as you go. 

Ethan’s hands reach for your leggings, slowly pushing them down as your lips find a tender spot of his neck. You bite down, and you hear Ethan groan as his hands pull your panties down next. His hand drifts up your body, past where you need him and up your stomach. You lay back against the pillows when his hands pull his shirt you took over your head. This isn’t just sex anymore, you’re in love with him. His bulge rocks into your bare core through his jeans and you whimper before reaching down to quickly pull his jeans down his legs. Luckily he never put his belt back on. Ethan’s forehead rests against yours as his boxers join his jeans on the ground and your hand is deftly stroking him. 

Ethan rests on his elbows, and for the first time you can really feel his body against yours as you continue to pump him slowly with your hand. “Jesus stop, keep teasing me like that and I’ll fucking cum.” Ethan groans, eliciting a giggle from you. Ethan reaches down and runs his fingers through your folds, a loving tenderness in his eyes as he positions his head at your entrance. You press your lips against his, and your lips move together slowly as Ethan slides into you with one swift thrust. You gasp against his lips, your nails digging into his bare shoulders. Your toes curl as Ethan slowly pulls out before rocking back into you tenderly. 

He sets a soft and gentle pace, his thrusts going deep and slow. You moan softly as you rock against him, your lips never leaving his. Ethan keeps his slow and loving pace, causing your entire pelvis to heat up. The way he looks at you when he finally parts from you, that look in his eyes nearly brings tears to your eyes. It makes you feel like he really does love you. “Fuck Ethan-” You cry out softly, holding him tighter to you when his pace picks up a little. His hand drifts in between your bodies and presses against your clit, and as soon as it does you’re cumming around him. Ethan offers a few more weak thrusts before he’s cumming inside you. 

When he pulls out of you he rolls over to lay next to you, a boyish smile on his face. You press your lips to his once more, winding your arms around his waist. 

“I love you.” You can’t help but say it again, you just want to say it over and over again. Ethan presses a kiss to your forehead with an easy smile on his face. “I know, I love you too.” 

“What made you tell me?” Ethan brushed a hand through your hair as you laid your head on his chest. You smiled shyly. 

“Mark left your little conversation at the beginning of the video he sent me today.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Ethan blushed. 

“Jerk.” You couldn’t help but laugh, and finally it felt like everything in your life finally fell into place. 

[five-rivers]

Adoption (part 2)

A gift for @a-flower-lover!  This wound up being more along the lines of vignettes...  Little snapshots into Danny’s life after being adopted by Clockwork.  I hope that’s ok!  (PART 1)

.

Mr. Lancer had met Charles Worth before, albeit briefly. The man had fostered a number of Casper High students and with that responsibility came parent-teacher conferences. He had struck Mr. Lancer as being steady and reliable, if, perhaps, impersonal, despite his predilection for clocks and ominous announcements. A decent foster parent, if not... ideal.

Mr. Worth just didn't seem to connect with his fosters, although he certainly didn't neglect them. Then, too, were the persistent rumors that his home was haunted.

Alright. So, Mr. Lancer didn't think Charles Worth was really a children person. Oh, he was a good person! It took one to do well as a foster parent, but... yeah.

Which was why the scene in front of him surprised him so much. Not the who of it, but the what.

The who was Daniel Fenton and Charles Worth waiting outside the office. The what was smiling and having a conversation. True, Mr. Fenton's smile looked like it was pasted on over several layers of anxiety, but it was genuine.

"Mr. Worth, Mr. Fenton?" he said, tamping down his surprise. "Come on in."

"Hi," said Mr. Fenton, his voice hoarse.

Mr. Worth smiled and nodded, pushing him up with his cane.

But Mr. Fenton must have noticed the curious look Mr. Lancer was giving him. "I knew Cl- Uh. Mr. Worth before this." He winced and smiled widely to cover it up. "So, uh, make up work? Since I missed the past week?"

"Yes, well, circumstances being what they are," aka his parents trying to murder him in public, in broad daylight (and didn't that give Mr. Lancer a chill?), "your teachers have put together a few packets for you to look over this weekend. They should get you more or less up to speed with where your classes are. I'm also willing to stay after school, to help you with anything you've missed in my classes."

.

Jazz knocked on the door of the Worth house. She had been made aware, via various supernatural (she did not particularly appreciate writing suddenly appearing on her fogged-up bathroom mirror) and mundane (Danny did have her phone number) means, that the man known as Charles Worth was actually the ghost known as Clockwork.

How this had occurred was not entirely clear to her. She assumed ghost powers, specifically time travel, were involved somehow.

But, to be honest, that didn't really matter to her. It was secondary, less than.

What was important here was that she hadn't been legally allowed to see her little brother in over a month. To keep her parents from contacting him. To keep her from letting her parents near him. Because they were legally barred from seeing him.

Because they had tried to kill him.

Jazz planned on never seeing her parents again, as soon as she got all of her and Danny's things from their house.

But now that prohibition had been lifted, because Clockwork had forced through what had to be the speediest adoption in the history of adoptions, and Danny was now legally his son. In the eyes of both humans and ghosts. Which was... Well. Danny seemed to be excited about it, anyway. He'd looked up to Clockwork for a while, from what he told Jazz.

Internally, Jazz had more than a bit of trepidation. She didn't know what adoption meant to ghosts, didn't have any context for it. And ghosts, even the good ones, even Danny, tended to be... obsessive. Extreme. She wasn't sure how that would translate when it came to interpersonal relationships.

The door creaked open, ever so slowly, the squeak it made grating on her eardrums. At first, it appeared to have opened on its own, then a hand gripped the edge of the door, and Clockwork, in human guise, leaned out from behind it.

Jazz raised an eyebrow.

Clockwork raised one right back. "This house is haunted, you know," he said.

Okay, never mind. The only thing she had to worry about was the fact that her brother and his mentor both had terrible senses of humor.

"Hi, Jazz!"

Being used to having a half-ghost brother, Jazz only yelped a little bit at his unexpected appearance behind her. Then she sighed and ruffled his hair. He hugged her and then bounced over the lintel into the house.

"Come on! I want to show you my room! It's so cool!" His voice became fainter as he went farther into the house, until his last exclamation was an eerie whisper.

Jazz looked at Clockwork as she stepped inside. "Is he doing that on purpose?"

Clockwork smiled blandly. "I am very fond of the acoustics in this house."

She looked at her surroundings with a skeptical eye. "It seems... dark in here."

"We are ghosts," said Clockwork. "Daniel is very excited to show you his room, by the way."

"He's human, too, don't forget," said Jazz.

"I won't."

.

The house was creepy.

Really creepy.

This was coming from someone who had spent most of her life living under the same roof as two ghost-obsessed mad scientists.

But Danny seemed to enjoy it, and he was the one living here. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with the house. Or anything in the house. It was just... off.

Danny was half-ghost, however, so maybe this was something he needed. Perhaps not all of his peppiness could be attributed to being the heck away from his murderous former parents.

Even so. Jazz had a duty, both as a big sister and an aspiring psychologist.

"I already read it," said Clockwork, setting a cup of tea down in front of her.

"What?"

"The book you were about to give me. I've already read it. And a number of others. I am not the kind of person who goes into things unprepared."

Danny rolled into the kitchen on the ceiling. This was easy to ignore. After her life, an Exorcist reference made by her over-excited younger brother, was, well. Underwhelming.

(Okay, she was a little distracted, but only by his glee.)

"Well," she said. "That's good."

.

"I know this house is out of the way," said Clockwork, craning his neck to look up at his coworker, "but you are rather conspicuous."

"Hm. Am I?" asked Pandora, craning her neck down to look at her comparatively tiny colleague.

"Yes. At that size, humans with average eyesight will be able to see you from town."

Pandora looked out over the trees. "Interesting," she said, mildly. "Do you think the ghost hunters will come?"

"You've spoken to Daniel."

"Yes. He stopped by earlier today, on his way to visit Mattingly. Although, I suppose you knew that already."

"Indeed I did. May I ask, is it your intention to lure the ghost hunters here, fight them, defeat them, and then leave them just close enough to here to constitute a breach of their terms of bail and the restraining order against them?"

"I am not terribly well-versed in human law," said Pandora, "but, why, yes. That is exactly what I'm doing. Best to get it done while Daniel is visiting friends, isn't it?"

"Yes. If you had done this while he was here, I would be significantly more annoyed." Clockwork smiled the sanguine smile of a parental figure who would commit murder if their child was upset.

Pandora returned a matching grin, one that promised retribution against persons who had harmed said child in the past. "Please, Clockwork. You know me better than that. I wouldn't subject him to being in the presence of those fools."

"Good," said Clockwork, eyes glinting.

.

"Hey, Clockwork? Do you know why there were police cars driving down the- Oh. Hello?" He stopped at the sight of an unfamiliar woman sitting at the dinning room table, next to Clockwork. He blinked and tilted his head to the side. "Wait. Pandora?"

"Perceptive," said the superficially human olive-skinned woman. "You seemed so happy when you stopped by, earlier. I thought I would come check in on you."

"You didn't have to," said Danny, beaming.

"Pandora has been trying to convince me to set her up as one of my relatives," said Clockwork, rolling his eyes. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Daniel?"

"Umm," said Danny, dubiously. "I'll try one, I guess. Does that mean you'll be my aunt?"

Pandora smiled. "Why, yes, it does."

Clockwork groaned theatrically.

.

"Ah," said Mr. Lancer, at the next parent-teacher conference. "Are you Mr. Worth's wife?"

"No," said Pandora, grinning. "I'm his sister."

Mr. Lancer looked back and forth between the two very different-looking entities. "I... see."

"We're adopted," said Clockwork.

"Oh! Alright then. Now, about Daniel..."

.

It was a bit strange to see Danny with so much energy, Sam reflected. Strange, but good.

It just went to show how drained he had become over time, how much the constant ghost attacks and worry, all the lies and stress and impossible expectations had worn away at him over time. She hadn't seen her friend this happy since freshman year. If that.

On the other hand...

"Dude," said Tucker. "Your house is spooky. And this is coming from someone who's been inside a literal mad science lab."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Mad science labs are campy, not spooky. Besides, you knew coming in that this house was haunted." He draped himself over the back of the couch, rolling until he was 'sitting' upside-down. "Anyway, what kind of movie do you want to watch? We've got a bunch, because Clockwork apparently collects media from doomed timelines."

"He's got a hobby?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, three," said Danny. "Gardening- you should talk to him about that, by the way, I think he'd like it- baking, and alternate timeline movies. And some books, too, I think. He's got a huge library back in Long Now. I've read like. Two books from it."

Clockwork's voice floated in from the other room. "You've read significantly more than that, Daniel."

"I guess," said Danny, doubtfully. He flopped off the couch, picked himself up, and started prodding at a shelf of movies. "This is from a timeline where the Earth got beaned by a massive asteroid. It's, like, a romcom, but it was made when everyone knew the asteroid was coming. This one is, uh, this is actually a dramatization of real events, apparently, but their timeline split from ours in like the fifties, so the events are pretty wild." He waved the DVD at them. "It's surreal?"

"How'd they die?" asked Tucker.

"Wacky superscience. No, really. Irradiated the entire planet."

"How do you know?" asked Sam.

"Oh, Clockwork puts notes on the boxes. He thinks it's interesting. And there does seem to be some correlation between how cursed the movies are and how bad the timeline was. Which maybe shouldn't surprise me? I mean, if they were bad timelines..." He shrugged. "Oh, this is a CGI Lion King. I can tell you: very cursed. Absolutely soulless. And this is from a timeline where copyright laws weren't changed, so Mickey Mouse and a bunch of other stuff was in the public domain."

"Isn't that a good timeline?" joked Sam.

"You'd think so," agreed Danny. "But apartheid in South Africa apparently never stopped, and they got a nuclear bomb, and, well... World War Three."

"Is that like, a domino effect, or...?"

"I'm not sure... Anyway. Uh. Genre?" He clapped his hands together.

Tucker leaned forward. "I want the wildest version of the Matrix you have."

"Ooh, good choice. There are, like, six with Will Smith. I haven't watched them all yet, but I think the one where they've got another sequel and Zion is also a- Wait, I shouldn't spoil it."

"After that, can you see if there's a non-crappy version of Dracula?" asked Sam.

"Sure. I haven't seen one yet, but I will look."

"I have popcorn," said Clockwork, entering the room, "and various baked goods. No dairy."

"You're the best."

.

Clockwork selected a thick blanket from the chest, then teleported himself to the living room to drape it over the three teenagers passed out on the couch. Overall, he found pretending to be human oddly enjoyable, but it could be trying at times. Tedious. All the finicky little motions humans had to go through to do the simplest of things added up over the day.

So, Clockwork tended to ease off of them when no one was watching. It made life easier.

Heh. Life.

(He would say that Daniel's puns were rubbing off on him, but in truth Clockwork's sense of humor had been like that for, well. Eons.)

He put the kitchen in order with an absent wave of his hand, and double-checked the stove out of habit. It wasn't nearly as good as his actual oven, back in Long Now, but it was serviceable.

One of Daniel's friends mumbled in their sleep, and Clockwork looked in on them. Still peaceful. It was good for Daniel to have them here. Beneficial for both his human and ghost halves.

He hummed to himself and patted Daniel's head as he thought about their plans for the weekend. He had arranged for some truly aggravating evangelical missionaries to darken their doorstep. It would do Daniel good to inspire a touch of terror. In an entirely controlled and risk-free way, of course. No matter how unpleasant the people coming were, Clockwork had no intention of harming them, or suggesting anything of the sort.

But, well. They were ghosts. Being feared was soothing.

(Clockwork knew this wasn't what Jasmine meant when she suggested Clockwork engage in family bonding activities with Daniel. But what she didn't know...)

.

"I think my teeth are getting sharper," said Danny, pulling a face at the mirror. "Is that normal?" The last was shouted, to get Clockwork's attention. Intellectually, Danny knew he didn't need to do that, but a lifetime of habit was hard to shake.

"It is difficult to say what is normal for someone like you, but many ghosts do have fangs," said Clockwork. "Including myself."

"Hm," said Danny. "This isn't, like, a ghost puberty thing, is it? Because I already used up most of my evil puberty jokes."

"Oh, only most?" Clockwork slid behind him and started rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.

Danny shrugged. "Eh, give or take. But, seriously."

"No, it isn't a ghost puberty thing."

"Oh, good. Because dealing with one puberty is more than enough."

Clockwork was silent. Danny looked up and met troubled eyes in the mirror.

"Clockwork?"

"Daniel," started Clockwork, before giving Danny an uneasy smile. "Speaking of puberty..."

Danny blanched. "No."

"What?"

"No. Nope. Not doing the talk today, no sir. I got that at school."

"Daniel, as strange as Casper High may be at times, I highly doubt they taught you anything about immortality."

"What."

.

"It's why ghosts put so much forethought into relationships like this," explained Clockwork, careful not to look directly at Daniel's hiding place. "They might last forever. I certainly hope this one does."

"But I don't want to be a teenager forever!" wailed Danny. He had mastered the art of making his voice sound like it was coming from a completely different direction than it actually was.

Clockwork was older than human civilization and had been worshiped as a god by several civilizations. He did not wince at the heartbreak in his child's voice.

"Your shapeshifting abilities should come in after a few years," said Clockwork. "You'll be able to pass as older."

Daniel answered with a moan.

"I must confess, I'm not sure why you are so upset about this. I can see that you are, but could you explain why for me?"

"I don't knoooooowww..."

.

"I don't want everyone to die and leave me alone," admitted Danny, hunched over a carton of ice cream. "I don't want to see my- my people die." He sniffled.

"We don't have to stay in Amity Park if you don't want to," said Clockwork.

Danny shook his head. "No! That's worse," he said, hating how his voice tilted into a whine. "That's- I can't abandon them! I can't- can't miss their time. I just..." He let out a huff of air. "It's hard."

Clockwork wrapped an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "It may not help much," he said, "but people in Amity Park have a much higher chance of becoming ghosts. It's the ectoplasm in the air."

"Promise?" asked Danny.

"Promise. Although, who, exactly, becomes a ghost is outside of my control. All I can tell you is that the people here have a better chance."

Danny leaned against Clockwork. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Clockwork?"

"Yes?"

"You don't think I'm a freak, do you?"

"Of course not."

.

Mr. Lancer squinted down at Daniel Fenton's latest assignment with a mix of appreciation, disbelief, and shame. This was easily the best work he had ever received from Daniel. In fact, it rivaled papers he had received from Jasmine.

It made him wonder- How long had Daniel been suffering? What had Daniel been suffering? He was no expert when it came to abuse, but all teachers had some training, and he knew that abusers tended to escalate, starting with something relatively innocuous and ending with a travesty. For things to progress to attempted murder... What had it started as? When had it begun?

(Could Mr. Lancer have stopped it?)

(That question would haunt him more than any ghost.)

Well, there was a silver lining to this, Mr. Lancer supposed. He had rarely seen two people who got along as well as Daniel and Charles Worth. It was good, he thought, for the man to have someone in his life on a more permanent basis, rather than the revolving door of temporary foster children.

How rapidly the adoption went through was a little odd, but... Mr. Lancer shrugged. Undoubtedly, Mr. Worth had taken the time over his years as a foster parent to familiarize himself with the system, and with Daniel's former parents unfit to be anywhere near children...

He shrugged again and stamped Daniel's paper with an A+.

[selfproducingfanfictionauthor]

Lessons to Build - ii: you can’t outrun what is in you

Summary: Two years ago, you break off your 5-year long engagement with Min Yoongi of the Min family and ran off to New York. However, for people like you, running away has never been a lasting solution.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader / Taehyung x reader

Warnings: None for this chapter. Y/N comes home, we meet Yoongi but not MEET-MEET. Might make you root for Taehyung. Notes: Short chapters for quicker updates is my jam. This took a while because i wasn’t sure how I wanted to present Yoongi yet. But here it is. He may be “kind” but there are other things at play that affected (and will affect) his decisions. Same with Y/N. Also Tumblr won’t let me tag some users. :(( I hope you guys find this update! And thank you for the people finding this fic!  Word Count: 1.6k Prologue  Lesson I 

Home.

Home shouldn’t be something you have to run away from. And yet, the moment you booked your flight, fingers tapping away on your phone - your passport details, credit card, seat number - an undeniable weight has began to made its home on your shoulders. As encompassing as a blanket but as imprisoning as heavy sand.

“What do you mean you’re flying to Seoul? Now??”

Isn’t it funny how things change in less than 24 hours? In a blink of an eye?

Taehyung’s voice is shrill in the background as you toss clothes upon clothes over your shoulder, hopping they’d get at least near the perimeter of your open suitcase.

Around you is your life in disarray. At the back of your mind, you find it slightly disturbing how easily it could fit in several boxes. No roots.

“Yes—“

“Why?”

You pause from grabbing your toiletries. There are things to do here in LA - there’s the campaign, the meetings with investors, your contracts, your would-be dog - your life.

Your mother told you that your father doesn’t want you to make the flight. That he’s fine, and it’s just exhaustion but the waver in your mother’s voice had your heart dropping straight to your stomach. And so despite her half-hearted protests, you’ve turned over your works over email and sent the rest for your assistants to manage.

Seoul may as well be just another place in the map. No, you’re not coming for Seoul, you’re coming for family.

You grab your phone off your bed side table and press it against your ear. “My dad had a heart attack.”

On the other line, you can feel Taehyung consider his words. “I’m coming with you.”

Your hands pause from folding your clothes and you look at your phone and as if seeing your questioning gaze, Taehyung plows on. “Yeontan and I are coming with you.” “Why?”

There are two ways for Taehyung to answer. One easy way is to tell you the truth. That he knows you need a friend, a tether to your life here, someone who will solidify what you’ve built. Someone, something tangible, someone to prove to you that your life here is as real as the life you left.

Going back always runs the risk of regressing, falling back to old patterns, he learned.

After all, he knows the feeling of being forced back to square one.

Or, he could tell you this, “My brother’s been bugging me to visit. And I hate flying alone.”

You don’t mention that he’s flown across the globe more than you could count - even flew to France once because he wanted authentic mille-feuilles - and just nod. “Okay, I’ll send you the flight details.”

“Okay, Lady, I’ll be there.”

The collapse of the CEO of the biggest chain of hotels and one of the upcoming land developers in an annual gala event can never be kept a secret.

You’ve seen it happen only once before, to Mr. Min. As a young girl, you remember how the media feasted around him like flies, and how shareholders of his company stalked around like wolves under sheep’s clothing.

It was as if everyone was waiting with a baited breath for the old man to die. A final shift of power from the old ways to the new. It was sensational, romanticized by the public - not sparing a thought or two to the families except when they needed something.

That was years ago, and it’s an unfortunate fact that hasn’t changed a bit.

“Well, can’t say I didn’t expect this - at least we look good.” Taehyung mutters, decidedly ignoring the occasional flash of camera in his periphery. They were still trying to be subtle, maybe not sure of the “scoop”? Scared of your supposed hidden bodyguards? Who knows?

“You always look good, Tae.” You whisper lightheartedly, forcing calmness in your words.

Around you, people continue to buzz around, grabbing their suitcases from the conveyor, talking on the phone, glancing at their watches. But they too have noticed, and glances towards your way multiply as the minutes pass by.

Taehyung hums in agreement, looking as if he hadn’t just flown across the world. “Yes, it requires effort, but don’t go telling them that.”

A loud shutter sound draws you away from your conversation and you boldly meet the lenses of a masked photographer eye-to-eye. Every bit of the Oh heiress they’ve built up in their mind.

Last time you checked, you were the high society’s prodigal princess. Ran away from home, off to play Cinderella in the United States. Keeping busy with shallow causes, burning through your daddy’s money.

You wonder how they come up with their headlines. You’ve long since given up in appealing towards their journalist’s ethics, but with how creative they come up with stories, you’re a bit disappointed with the headline you last read. The least they could do was make it more fun - a hidden lover? Pregnant? A twist, or something.

You scoff. Although you may have been away for two years, you still are your parents’ daughter. This is child’s play.

Dressed in a black luxury pantsuit, heels lifting you up from the ground and make-up on point, you provide no weak points. Eyes half-lidded you stare straight to the cameras who’ve come out of their hiding, propriety be damned and all.

Oh Y/N is back.

(And if it feels like shrugging on a second skin, you pay it no mind)

“Tae… Tae… Tae!”

Taehyung jostles awake beside you, the hand you were shaking him with falls on your lap. “Wha— What?”

Yeontan’s yip echoes his owner’s confusion. The sound sounding as exhausted as he probably is. Flying has and will probably always be stressful for pets, but Taehyung refused to have someone dog sit Yeontan for this trip saying that he needs to meet his cousins, RJ or something.

Your eyes soften at your friend’s sleepy eyes. Outside the sky is bright, but you too can feel the time difference and jet lag creeping up.

“Sleep this off at the hotel, Tae. I’ll have the driver drop you off.” You’re already reaching out to press the button for the partition when Taehyung shakes his head.

“‘M not sleepy.”

“You’re dead on your feet, Tae.” Fondness laced in your words, you watch Taehyung straighten in his seat beside you and card his fingers through his hair, making the mess look like a ~coordinated~ one.

“I’m not letting you go there alone.”

“I’m going to the hospital, Tae, not war.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. Taehyung spies the way you tuck your hands around yourself, almost curling inwards, almost shaking.

No.

“Could’ve fooled me, you’re dressed to kill.”

You look over expecting a teasing grin on his face but you falter, frozen, at the sight of his eyes. Dark chocolate eyes pin you to your spot, and heat blooms on your cheeks. Suddenly, you feel like your suit is too tight and even in its dark shade - too sheer.

Almost two years of friendship has not rendered you immune to Kim Taehyung.

Like the passing scenery, the moment is gone as quick as it came. Taehyung smiles and lifts Yeontan to his shoulder.

“He’s going to be there, isn’t he?”

There’s no question as to who he’s referring to. “He might be, my mom said he almost hasn’t left my dad’s side.”

Taehyung scoffs, “Like a vulture.”

You want to defend Yoongi but despite leaving the country because of him, you did keep updated. Partly because it’s ingrained to you to stay on top of news relating to your family business and its periphery but also… well, you don’t know what you hoped for.

In the span of less than two years, Min Yoongi dragged their struggling company and made it great again. Competitors lost out, assets were seized left and right, absorbed, repurposed in the gaping maw of a resurging giant.

He’s ruthless.

But you can be too.

Oh Jiyoung is not a young man anymore.

He doesn’t think he’s been young since his mother abandoned him and his father when he was ten. He wasn’t young when he left school at fifteen, or when he went back when he was eighteen.

He wasn’t young when he bussed tables, or worked in shucking oysters Yeosodo with swollen scarred hands. He wasn’t even young when he first met his wife, fell in love and learned what it was like to be loved back.

So, no, he isn’t surprised when he had a heart attack. A little off-put, and a bit terrified but not surprised. He’s lived more decades than he actually expected to already.

Looking down at his hands, he thinks that if he’d kicked the bucket right then and there the only true regret he’ll have is one that involves the young man across him.

Oh Jiyoung is old, but he hasn’t forgotten the mannerisms of a young man. His wife still makes him feel like one after all this years. So of course, he’s noticed the young man across him fiddle with his rings, his feet tapping to a rhythm only he knows.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous.”

Yoongi looks up from his seat to the teasing face of his would’ve been father-in-law. His thumb pauses from rubbing against the ring in his forefinger, he doesn’t answer. He feels the stare of your father bore down on him and he almost shifts like a boy caught in a lie.

Your flight has landed just less than two hours ago, he doubts you’ll give yourself time to rest first before heading to the hospital. Which means, any time now, those doors will open and you’ll be here.

How odd.

As if summoned, the doors open and —

— there you are.

Yoongi’s eyes don’t stay on you too long, not with a tall man hovering behind you, dark eyes trained on him. Your ease at this man’s close proximity sets fire at the back of his neck, and even if he wanted to say hello, this, instead comes out.

“The rumors are true then, huh?” 

Tag List: @moonlitmyg @shadowstark @kookiebunnii @loveyoongles @swegstuffsuckers @anpanman-sonyeondan @veronawrites @ariadne-06 @springjade @neverthefirstchoice @creatorspalace​ End Notes: Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know what you think and if you want to be included in a tag list!

[green-blue-heller]

Why Jensen can not control his body near Misha? Why he can't hide his reaction though Misha apparently can ?

Hey! Thanks for the question!

Let me preface this by saying that I do not know any of the people involved and this is pure speculation.

I also want to point out that while this post contains Cockles content, this is my own head canon on the two of them, and should never be pointed out to them nor should they be asked about any of this. Nor should their wives.

On this blog, we do not believe that any relationship between Misha and Jensen is cheating on their wives. While we know Misha and Vicki practice polyamory, no such statements have been made by the Ackles. But considering Dee’s obvious love for Misha, the assumption is that any relationship is consensual among all four of them. We respect and love the wives. And any intolerance or disrespect toward them won’t be accepted.

We all know Misha has tumblr, if he’s trolling around, that’s on him, as he knows this is where the fandom discusses and shares this sort of thing. This is largely a site for fandoms. But on the .0000001% chance that he or anyone he knows sees this, absolutely zero disrespect or offense is intended.

This information is my own theories and in. I way represents the thoughts of Misha, Jensen, Danneel, or Vicki.

It’s funny you should ask this, because I literally just came up with a theory about this tonight. 😂

It was while discussing Jensen and acting with Misha or Dee in the future and if he’d ever be able to act with them and not play a character in love with them.

In a nutshell, could Jensen Ackles act in a project with Danneel Ackles or Misha Collins and not come across as a puppy in love?

And the answer I came up with is kind of surprising.

Danneel? Yes.

Misha? No.

You may be going, but Jen, isn’t that backwards? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

One might think so.

Initially.

But think about it.

First, we know Jensen is really good at poker. The cast has had stories about playing poker that they’ve told at cons on at least 2-3 occasions.

I got the impression he takes it seriously.

We also know that Jared can’t make him break on set, or that’s it’s difficult.

So, why then, does Jensen act like a puppy every time he’s around Mr. Dmitri, but not his own wife?

Well, he does act dopey around Dee.

But the difference is he’s allowed to be dopey with Dee.

I think it’s more to do with the fact that he feels like it’s okay to show he loved Dee in public. That love is allowed to be externalized and he doesn’t think about consequences or reprocussions. It just is.

But he doesn’t feel like he can do that with Misha (maybe, again, this is all speculation). Possibly to the point where you tell yourself not to do something and it becomes the only thing you can do.

We know Jensen is shy. So in the beginning I think he was somewhat better at keeping himself in check. As time passed by, especially post breakup and reconciliation, he became more secure in however him and Misha define what they have.

And that comfort, and probably Misha (god, I don’t want to use this word 😂) influencing him (🤣🤣🤣) and helping him to get more comfortable in his own skin (I’m sure Dee helped with that too!) he just eventually stopped giving a fuck.

Now, my Misha and Dee comparison. From her time on SPN, we see that they can work together without him acting like a fool around her. And this, I think is because he’s never felt like he had to hide his love for her. Or pretend it was less than what it is.

But he still worries about Misha. While he may be out of fucks in how he acts around him (especially while he’s been drinking at jib), he still worries about being too outside the norm. So he can’t externalize his feelings for Misha, publicly.

As for Misha and him being able to not act like a school girl with a crush?

While rarer, Misha has his moments of getting lost in all that Jensen is.

But I think Misha has always been comfortable in who he is. Vicki has written a book on threesomes and discusses polyamory, and uses real life examples of their relationship and how they’ve been with other people (I’ll preface this but with the fact I haven’t read the book, but from what I gather from some posts and reviews on the book, it’s implied that some of those relationships Misha has had were with women and men) and how polyamory is something that works for them.

He’s never wanted to be normal and he’s never apologized for who he is. So I think that lack of an internal struggle makes it that he doesn’t have an external struggle over showing what he feels.

I hope this help.

If anyone else has anything to add, or theories of their own, I’d love to hear them!

Nonnie, if you have more questions or need clarification, feel free to send another ask or you can send me a private message.

Also, if you are the one who asked me about the cockles timeline, bear with me, as that will take some time to find the posts I need with the info you’re looking for!

Though if anyone has any timelines, you can feel free to add them here, or send me a private message with the link to your post.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 12 (Peter Parker x Fem!Oc)

A/N: Now let's start with Avengers! Getting closer to seeing Peter, lol.

I know, I know...

Words: 1,593

Masterlist:

Post-credits scene II  / Chapter 13

“Good to go on this end. The rest is up to you,” says Tony from the other end of the call.

"You diconnected the transmission lines?" Pepper asks. "Are we off the grid?"

"Stark Tower is about to become a beacon of self-sustaining clean energy.”

"Well, assuming the arc reactor takes over and it actually works,” She continues

"I assume,” answers Tony. "Light her up.”

The huge sign forms a Stark when the lights come on.

"How does it look?"

"Like Christmas, but more... me.”

“Us!" says Lily after listening to the boring conversation between the two adults.

“We’ve got to go wider on the public awareness campaign. You need to do some press. I'm in DC tomorrow, I'm working on the zoning for the next three buildings,” says Pepper.

"That sounds so boring,” Lily complains walking to the couch, leaving her legs swinging on the armrest.

“I agree with the girl. Pepper, you're killing me. The moment, remember? Enjoy the moment.”

"Get in here and I will,” replies the redhead with a smile.

“Ew," adds Lily.

Since Tony and Pepper are finally together, they can't help but be more affectionate than normal, unfortunately the girl always has to interrupt them. She already has enough trauma.

When Tony reaches the tower, he walks on a platform where several robotic hands are responsible for removing the Iron Man suit.

The redhead continues to see the levels projected in the holograms. She leans back on the desk, waiting for Tony.

"Levels are holding steady… I think.”

Tony comes to her side, they talk, and then discuss the percentage of the great success of the reactor. All while Lily continues to get bored on the couch. The adults sit on the floor in front of the coffee table, surrounded by the armchairs, along with two glasses of champagne.

Blah, blah, blah, elevator, blah, blah, blah, money, blah, blah, percentage.

Lily sighs exaggeratedly to get their attention. They both stop talking and Tony watches her.

"Oh sorry, are we bothering you?"

Pepper purses her lips to keep from laughing.

"Actually yes,” the girl sits up. “I'm supposed to be able to do more things, go out more often.”

"And you did it.”

"From the house to the tower does not count, Dad,” She answers. "It's the same as before, only in another prison…”

"Don't exaggerate,” answers Tony. She sighs and falls back onto the cushions. “I don't understand why you’re bored. We’ve just made a breakthrough for the company.”

“One, your company. Two, I did nothing, just watched percentages, values, holograms. Bored!"

"I thought you liked that," adds Pepper.

"I want to do something else.”

"Like what, Smarty?"

"What about an Iron Man suit for me?" She says turning her head towards them.

Tony laughs out loud.

"It wont happen.”

"I had to try it…”

"Sir, the telephone," Jarvis interrupts. "I'm afraid my protocols are being overridden.”

"Mr. Stark, we need to talk,” says a male voice. Tony takes the phone from him.

"That sounds interesting," says Lily.

“You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message,” He pretends to be an answering machine looking at the screen, making Lily and Pepper laugh.

"This is urgent.”

"Then leave it urgently.”

But the elevator doors open, revealing Agent Coulson.

"This just keeps getting better,” says Lily. It had been a long time since they had seen Phil.

"Don't get excited kid. Security breach,” Tony complains.

"Phil, come in!" says Pepper getting up.

Tony looks confused at his girlfriend and follows her to where the agent is.

"I can't stay," answers Phil. He looks towards the couch where Lily greets him. "Hi, Lily.”

"His first name is Agent,” says Tony a little annoyed, but then he fakes a smile.

"We need you to look this over as soon as possible,” says Phil offering him a device.

Pepper is in charge of exchanging the device for his champagne glass, until it reaches Tony's hand.

"Official consulting hours are between eight and five, every other Thursday—”

"This isn’t a consultation," replies Phil.

"Now what did we do?" Lily asks, rising from the couch.

"Is this about the Avengers?" Pepper asks, then adds quickly. "Which I know nothing about.”

Tony opens the device in such a way that he reveals only a touch screen, he gestures to Lily and they both walk to a desk in the back.

"The Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought — And I did not qualify," He huffs.

"I did!”

Tony looks at her.

"Who told you that?"

“Nat," She smiles.

"I didn't know that either," continues Pepper.

"Apparently I'm volatile, self-obsessed, don't play well with others…”

“Bingo," says Lily.

"That I did know.”

"This isn’t about personality profile anymore,” replies Phil.

“Whatever," says Toy looking at the screen.

"What are we watching?" Lily asks, as her father obstructs her vision.

"Wait, Ms Potts, got a second?" The redhead obeys.

Tony enters some codes.

"You know, I thought we were having a family moment," He complains.

"I was having 12% of a moment.”

"Oh, not this again,” says Lily

The pair try to argue again, but Pepper changes the subject.

"What is all this?”

“This is… this.”

Lily walks to see each screen, where the profiles of some people are shown. Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Thor.

Pepper sighs. "I'm going to take the jet to DC tonight,” She says.

“Tomorrow," corrects Tony. They both talk, but Lily's attention is still in the files.

"Lily?" says the redhead and the girl turns. "I have to go."

Lily walks up to her and hugs her tightly.

"Be careful,” the little girl whispers when they part. Pepper nods, strokes her black hair and kisses her forehead. She then goes back to Phil.

"Wait, so who am I staying with?" asks the girl looking at her father. The three adults share a look. "Jess is in class, Happy’s busy and you’ll go,” She points to Pepper.

“Actually…” Coulson begins.

"I'll find a babysitter," Tony interrupts.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Sir. For this we need both Starks.”

"What?" say Tony, Pepper and Lily at the same time.

"They need me? Me?" Lily asks in disbelief. She feels a tickling start in her hands, but this time she controls it and hides her hands behind her back.

"No, Phil, it's dangerous for a ten-year-old girl," says the Redhead.

"I thought she was on probation," adds Tony.

“Our base will be surrounded by qualified and knowledgeable agents to ensure Ms. Stark's protection. Besides, it’s only a search, in case the situation changes, she’ll be taken to Miss Potts immediately.”

Lily's gaze moves between the agent and her father repeatedly, waiting for an answer.

“What do you need her for? Specifically,” says Tony.

"Director Fury thinks two Starks are better than one,” He tries to joke. "His words, not mine, but everything’s explained in the files.”

"Is this really happening?" Lily asks to no one in particular. “Someone finally heard my complaints!”

“Hey, calm your sugar. I won't let you go alone like this,” Tony warns.

"So, can I go?”

Tony groans. He senses Pepper's confused look, but he ignores it. Even he doesn't know if this is a good idea, but the fact that the super agents need his daughter makes him curious, and he has a feeling that if he doesn't accept, they’ll try to get it some other way and that's worse.

The redhead sighs in defeat, waiting for Tony to have everything under control. Although that’s not common in him. She now must worry about both of them, but at least has the assurance that Phil will be around. She just hopes she doesn't regret it later.

"Please, stay safe,” She finally says to them, then he returns to Phil and the two leave the Stark tower.

Lily watches them until she's alone with her father. She turns to meet the man holding a hologram of a blue cube.

"What's that?"

"We'll find out soon,” He returns the hologram to the screen and looks down at her. "I'll prepare coffee and chocolate, you and I will find ourselves reading and talking about the new rules of the game."

"New Rules? I'm not six years old anymore, dad.”

He sighs and makes a face.

"These rules are not in case you break something, Lily,” He looks directly into her eyes. “You heard Coulson. We’ll be surrounded by agents, spies trained to do whatever they are ordered to do. And at some point that order can harm us.”

"But Mr. Fury-"

“I know we have given them permission for certain things like your training, but it was all happening under my watch and Jarvis's. This time we’ll have to go to them, and that’s a problem.”

She frowns, analyzing that information.

“But Nat and Phil… They wouldn't do something like that.”

"I don't know, Kid. We can’t take anything for granted.”

"It's not easy and anyone can fool you, Lils." She remembers Nat's words during her training. In the end she nods towards her father.

"So what do I have to do?"

“Pretend that everything’s fine, but you have to stay alert and try not to get too far away from me. I don’t know the real reason why they want you in this, but you should not believe everything they tell you.”

"This will be more complicated than I thought," She adds with a grimace.

"Don't worry,” He offers his hand. "You and I are smarter than they are.” Lily holds his hand.

Taglist:

@silenthappyplace @yourbonesareinmybody @aylauwuuniverse    @skittles-skittles @hufflepuffzutara @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs @heavenlymistakes @my-love-of-books @dielgonacoffee  @thelastpyle​

[letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked]

Words On My Skin Chapter 30

Bucky Barnes X Reader (Soulmate AU)

A/N: I guess it takes a quarantine and deadly virus for me to start writing again, huh? LOL! TAGS WILL BE REBLOGGED ON THIS EVENTUALLY! I have like... a whole year of tag requests to sort through! So... Sorry LOL

Warnings: Be gentle... I’m rusty at writing lol

Main Masterlist // WOMS Masterlist

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

Y/n: I'm on my way back! Happy is driving me! I'll tell you the details when I get home! I got you a surprise! <3

Bucky: I'm in the room, doing paperwork. Steal one of Steve's granola bars for me, please and thank you and I love you.

Y/n: I'm not taking the fall again if he catches me!

Bucky: He's out with that one blonde chick we don't like.

Y/n: Ew. Why???

Bucky: Why do you think?

Y/n: Ew. She looks like she has crotch crickets. Plus she was a bitch to me last time she was here. I tried to be nice. I think she's in it for his fame... and the D.

Bucky: ...that's disgusting.

Y/n: I'm making him an appointment for an STD check.

Bucky: He's going to kill you.

Y/n: He'll thank me when his dick doesn't fall off

Bucky: He's going to make you do more cardio.

Y/n: ...Okay, yeah, I'll just let his dick fall off. LOL fuck cardio

Bucky: You seemed to enjoy last night's cardio. ;)

Y/n: That was more like naked yoga... with a happy ending! Totally different!

Bucky: We can do naked yoga anytime you want.

Y/n: I'll take naked yoga over cardio all day every day

Bucky: All day every day? ;)

Y/n: Shut up, fool. <3

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

Placing your phone back into your purse, you stared out the window, watching the busy streets blend into trees and snow. Stupid snow. You were lost in your own head, thinking about the meeting with your parents. Which had gone... surprisingly well.

Your mother was fairly civil to you - as well as the waitstaff - and your father actually had a serious conversation with you.

It was one of the weirdest days of your life... and you lived with a bunch of superheroes.

Seeing your parents like this, after so many years of loathing, arguing, controlling... You weren't sure where your relationship stood.

Though, it was nice to gain at least a little clarification and get everything out in the open.

They'd apologized for the way they treated you in your youth, as well as the way they treated Bucky. You'd apologized for all the shit you'd said to them before you'd moved away, as well as keeping them pushed away in your adult years. The excuses your mother had for acting like a controlling robot were just... sad. She talked about how your grandmother treated her the same - if not worse. She was the way she was because she wanted you to be better than her. No wonder you've never actually met your grandparents in person. Your mother hated her parents. Almost as much as you'd hated yours... until now.

Now... You just had sympathy. Not that it excused any of the behaviors over the years, but you understood now.

It seemed as if she'd convinced herself that the way that she raised you made you the positive person that you were, today. Which was true to some extent. It was recovering from the way you were raised that made you the person you were today. You may have been comfortable with money, but money wasn't everything behind closed doors. Money didn't solve the problems that you'd dealt with in your youth. In fact, it was living the stereotype of a rich family that had caused the majority of your problems. It was the cold, brash emotions modeled by your parents that made you want to be different. The controlled diets, the need to hide emotions and compartmentalize, the forced dating, the fights, the lying, the fake public image... it was dealing with those things after you'd escaped it that made you the person you are today.

Personal growth, and all that jazz.

After the emotional bit of the dinner, you'd actually enjoyed yourself. Your parents asked you about your job, the first day you met Bucky, college, your friends, and everything else they hadn't been a part of for the last decade or so.

They told you about their trip to Paris, where your mother had tripped over a crack in the pavement and they spent half the day in the emergency room so she could get stitches. They told you about how they got their entire office to donate a large sum of money to Bucky's charity that he had been running. They told you about the day that they realized that they needed a change of scenery from California.

It was almost... normal.

If you even knew what normal was.

"Y/n?" You heard Happy's muffled voice, followed by a light tapping on the cool window. He hadn't opened the car door, because your head was leaned against it. "You ready to rock and roll?"

"You're such a dad." You giggled, grabbing your purse and leftovers as he opened the door for you, "Speaking of dads, are you going to become Peter's step-"

"I DON'T-" He paused, taking a breath through his nose and blowing it out of his mouth, "I don't want to talk about that."

"Happy and Mae, sitting in a tree..." You sang, grinning as you skipped past him, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

"You're such a child." He rolled his eyes, slamming your door closed and walking to the driver's door.

"You love me, anyways." You pulled open the front door to the compound, leaving Happy to bring the car over to the garage.

You removed your coat the moment you stepped into the heated building, throwing it over your arm and hiding the bag of leftovers and Bucky's surprise. Glancing around, you saw the lobby was nearly empty, save for a few agents using the lobby to cut to the other wing.

Glancing over to the front desk, a grin spread over your face as you took in the sight in front of you.

Caleb was snoring loudly, mouth hanging open, head tipped back, and his feet up on the desk. The book you'd given him for his birthday was open, resting on his stomach like he had fallen asleep reading in his chair.

"FRIDAY, can you please do me a favor and record this please?" You whispered into your watch, sneaking over to the sleeping agent. "Send it to my tablet when it's done."

You were glad you wore flats instead of heels, so your shoes made no noise against the hard floors as you snuck behind the desk. You kept out of swinging distance, grabbing a clipboard off his desk and readying yourself for whatever happened.

"CALEB, WAKE UP!" You screamed loudly, slamming the clipboard repeatedly on the desk. "CALEB, THE SKY IS FALLING!"

He let out a loud shout, limbs flailing around, and chair tipping backwards. "I WASN'T SLEEPING." The obnoxious laugh you let out made his face scrunch up in confusion from the floor, "Y/n?" He glanced around, springing up gracefully and surveying the empty lobby before sending you a glare, "Rude."

You couldn't reply, leaning against the desk and tossing the clipboard in front of him, hysterical laughter echoing through the nearly-empty lobby. "I- You- Oh- Dying." You wheezed, trying to calm your laughter before you peed yourself, wiping the tears from under your eyes, "Oh my god."

"I'm glad my fear brings you such joy, you awful human being." Caleb grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair, "I hate you so much right now."

"I brought you dessert." You replied, finally able to pull your shit together, grabbing a box out of the big bag you were carrying. "It's chocolate and peanut butter cheesecake."

"I hate you less, now. You are forgiven." He lunged forward, a large smile on his face. "Gimme', gimme', gimme'."

You handed him the box, shaking your head and glancing at your watch, "I'm beat. I'm gunna' head up."

"Your soulmate is an asshole, by the way." Caleb informed you, mouth full of cheesecake, "He kept telling me he's going to get Claire an obscene amount of slime for Christmas." He glanced up at you with narrow eyes, "I'll hurt all of you if you get her slime, or anything else with loose glitter. My kitchen table is ruined."

"I cannot confirm nor deny that we got her slime for christmas." You shouted, jogging towards the elevator. "Love youuuuu."

"Fuck youuuuu." He sang back at you, as you disappeared from sight.

"My floor, please, FRIDAY." You requested as the doors to the elevator opened and you got in, "Is Bucky in his room?"

"Yes, Ma'am." FRIDAY replied.

Leaning against the wall, you inhaled deeply through your nose - trying to dispel any weird feelings in your gut. Ever since you'd left dinner with your parents, your shoulders felt lighter... but there was a sense of unease in your belly. You'd never expected in a million years that you'd actually have a relationship with your parents where they communicated with you in a semi-healthy way.

Was this real life?

Honestly, it felt like you were in a simulation or something.

Nothing felt normal anymore.

When the lift doors opened, a wave of delicious smells hit your nose - and you followed the scent to the kitchen, calling out, "Who's cooking delicious-smelling food?"

"That'd be me." Sam called, head in the fridge as he searched for something in the back, "Where the fuck did my strawberries go?"

"That'd be your not-so-little buddy Steve." You chuckled, watching as Sam glared at the fridge before moving back to the stove in a huff. It was actually Bucky, but you weren't about to snitch on your soulmate. "What are you making?"

"God dammit." He grumbled, stirring whatever was in the giant pot, "I'm getting a mini fridge in my room. This 'sharing' business is pissing me off."

"Sam. Food."

He turned to you with a grin, "Momma Wilson's famous lasagna soup."

"They make lasagna in soup form?" You frowned, walking over to the stove to inspect, confirming the fact that he had - indeed - made soup out of lasagna ingredients. It was confirmed by the broken-up lasagna noodles floating up to the surface, and the red sauce littered with spices. God, that smelled good... "Where'd your mom come up with this, and can I have the recipe?"

"Nope. Special made by only me." He shook his head, shooing you away with the spoon. "Go away. You already ate."

There goes getting the granola bar... Sam would totally snitch.

"Save me some for later?" You stuck out your lip in a pout, giving him your best innocent face.

He rolled his eyes, turning away from you and stirring his soup, "We'll see."

You giggled, turning away and walking towards the living quarters with a pep in your step, "I appreciate you."

"Yeah, yeah." You heard him grumble, "Since you do my paperwork..."

"And I do a fabulous job!" You called in sing-song, rounding the corner into the hallway and feeling giddy about bringing Bucky his surprise.

He'd been talking about how he'd been craving French Silk Pie, and you just so happened to spot a few slices left at the restaurant. The manager had recognized you from the photo of you and Bucky at the sushi restaurant and seeing you in that interview, and had offered to slip in a few extra slices of pie for next to nothing... so you'd taken a page from Bucky's book and tipped the staff an obscene amount.

Bucky was going to shit when he saw how many pieces of pie you were coming back with.

"FRIDAY can you unlock the door for me, please?" You called out quietly, listening to the door click as it unlocked. "Thank you." As you pushed open the door, you spotted your handsome soulmate sitting at his desk, sharpening a knife carefully. "You planning on murdering me with that, or what?"

"Ha-Ha. Very funny." He deadpanned, eyes trained on the knife as he examined it, "If I was going to murder you, stabbing you to death would be too messy."

"Comforting." You chuckled, shutting the door behind you and hanging your coat on the back of the door and laying the plastic bag full of food on his bed. You reached behind you to unzip your dress, heading over to his closet to grab a shirt to lounge around in. "I buy you a delicious treat, and you plot my murder."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm also looking at files for the new recruits." He replied, voice sounding really far away. "Jennings looks promising."

You frowned, pulling his shirt over your head. Trying to feel him out through the bond. He seemed... neutral. It was weird. Not upset, but also not happy. Peeking around the corner, trying to be sneaky, you watched him as he read through another recruit file flipping the knife around skillfully. He didn't look tense. He also didn't look like he was concentrating on the file, either.

"Why are you staring at me?" He asked suddenly, not turning around. His hair looked messy, like he'd been running his hand through it.

"Why are you being weird?" You asked, walking over to the bed and grabbing one of the small to-go boxes out of the bag. Setting it on his desk with a plastic fork, you leaned down and wrapped your arms around him from behind - resting your chin on his shoulder. "I got you french silk pie."

He turned his head, pressing a small kiss on your bare arm. "Thanks, sweetheart."

You didn't think you could frown any further, but you were wrong.

He was totally being weird.

"Okay, okay." You moved away from him, sitting on the edge of his bed and grabbing one of the pie slices. "What's wrong with you? What are you hiding from me? You're too... neutral."

"Nothing's wrong with me." He replied, not turning around. "I'm not hiding anything."

Bullshit!

"Lies." You sang out, digging into your piece of pie. "Can't bullshit a bullshitter. Especially when she's connected to you emotionally through a magical soulmate bond." You shoved a bite into your mouth, realizing that you'd grabbed one of the apple pie slices. A pang of annoyance nudged you in the chest, and you rolled your eyes, "You can be annoyed all you want, but that's not telling me what's up with you."

He sighed, leaning his head back for a moment, before spinning around in his chair and giving you a look of annoyance. "If I tell you, will you let up?"

"Maybe." You smirked, taking another bite of pie.

"I..." He looked down, picking at one of the plates in his hand - a nervous tick. "I talked to Tony, today."

Oh.

Oh shit.

You hoped it was a productive conversation. It had to have been, if Bucky wasn't upset. Then again, he was attempting to hide his feelings from you. Maybe it wasn't, and he didn't want to tell you?

You set your dessert down on the bed, leaning forward in interest, "And...?"

"He..." Bucky cleared his throat, not looking at you. "He wants to have us see Dr. Collins." He finally looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Together."

You smiled, relief washing through you. This was good. If they saw Dr. Collins together, they might get to the root of their issues in a positive way that didn't include destroying the building... one can hope.

So why did Bucky look like someone pissed in his coffee?

"This is good, right?" You asked, confused. "Progress?"

"Yeah." He mumbled, looking back down at the dark, metal plates in his hand. "I guess."

"But...?"

"But-" His leg started bouncing up and down, and you could feel the nervous energy outside of the bond. "I'm a little... afraid about..." He sighed, shaking his head and closing his beautiful blue eyes, "I don't know. Doing all this-" He seemed to be struggling for the right words. "-opening up."

You nodded along as he paused, waiting for him to continue.

"What if... what if he still hates me in the end?" He rushed out, leg still bouncing. "I'm just... I'm so sick of people hating me for something I did when I was... him." He stood up, beginning to pace back and forth, and you had a feeling that he was about to explode. "I'm trying so hard. SO HARD. I..." He stopped, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. "I just... I hate what he did. I hate this. I don't want to go through all of this just for Tony to still hate me in the end."

He sat back down in his chair, hand running through his growing hair and leaning his elbows on his knees, "I'm just... I don't like this nervous feeling. That's why I was trying to hide my feelings. Because... I don't want to feel them." He looks back up at you, blue eyes full of sadness that hurt your heart. "Sometimes I feel like it's easier being him. He doesn't feel anything, and I barely remember half the shit he did."

"Bucky..." You sighed, standing up and moving to sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his middle and leaning the side of your head against his shoulder. "It's understandable that you don't want to feel the hard feelings. They suck ass." He snorted at your words, arms wrapping around you, but you kept going, "But you're human. Even if you're a supersoldier with some crazy serum running through your veins, you're human. Feelings make you human. Feelings make you Bucky, instead of him." You looked up at him, as his arms tightened around you. "I'm not going to pretend I'm Dr. Collins and say something irritatingly profound, but... I think you know exactly what Dr. Collins would say."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He sighed, pressing his face into the top of your head - warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. "He's annoying."

"He may be annoying, but he knows what's up." You chuckled, turning your head so you were looking into his icy eyes, "You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He smiled, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, "I love you, too."

Shifting around, you moved so your arms were wrapped around his shoulders and your face was level with his, "I brought you french silk pie."

"You spoil me." He grinned, arms around your middle, "How'd your dinner with your parents go?"

You grimaced, rolling your eyes, "It was weird. It kind of feels like those two hours were a dream. I don't believe that my parents actually had a real conversation with me." He raised an eyebrow at you and you huffed out a sigh, "Yeah. Yeah. I'm happy. I'm glad that we can finally talk, but... it's just weird. I don't really know how to process it."

"Finally going to be one big, happy family, huh?" He laughed, poking you in the side. "Like The Brady Bunch?"

"First of all, when the hell did you have time to watch The Brady Bunch without me?" You narrowed your eyes at him, raising a brow in question, "Second of all, there's only three of us."

"I didn't watch it," He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at you before standing and setting you on the bed, turning around and grabbing his container of pie, "I read about it."

"STOP DOING THAT!!" You whined in annoyance, throwing a chunk of your apple pie at him. Oh my god, if he kept fucking doing that... "You need to actually watch these things! Stop reading the plot on Wikipedia! It's not the same!"

"I read faster than I watch!" He took a huge bite of his pie, crumbs falling onto the floor. "I can read the plot in a fourth of the time it would take to watch the whole thing." After another obnoxiously large bite of his pie, he set the container back on the desk, moving towards the bed, "If I try and catch up on all the shows and movies I missed over the last century, I'll be biologically ninety before I'm caught up."

As he moved the bag of containers to the floor, you held the slice of apple pie closer to your chest, "I'm not sharing my pie." You took another bite of the sweet pie, the taste of cinnamon on your tongue. He kept moving closer, and you turned your body away from him holding the pie away from him, "NO! You can't have my pie! You have your own!"

"If you don't put it on the nightstand it's going to be in the bed." He warned, an evil look in his eye. "I'm giving you three seconds."

You yelped, attempting to scarf down the obscenely large and sweet piece of pie as fast as you could.

"Three."

You scrambled away from him, but his arm wrapped around your middle as you continued to shovel the food in your face.

"Two."

"NO!!! I'm TRYING!" You giggled, tossing the fork onto the floor, but unable to reach the nightstand with the container full of whipped cream and a large chunk of pie still sticking in the container. You shrieked out a laugh as he tackled you into the bed, the slice of pie completely smearing all over your face and hair. "BUCKY!!"

"One."

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

Part 31 ...coming soon to a Tumblr near you.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Hello loveys! Here is chapter four of

‘Tis the Damn Season

~Let It Snow~

Thanks to @dirtystyles for the beta and late night video mining thanks it Night Niki!

Enjoy! Reblogs are Love!!

"We have a problem," Harry states as he comes in the room. Emma's heart nearly stops and she feels exposed. Not just because she is naked, though she is literally bare, but because he's just been downstairs to talk to the landlady and Emma is terrified of what the hell the problem could be.

He was just downstairs, while she was luxuriating in the sheets scented like them. What could he have encountered there that would lead to this deadpan voice and monotone face?

Emma's mind is good at this, at possibilities, it's why she's good at her studies and internships, she can run through lots of scenarios in her head and then plug in logistics and costs and benefits. She doesn't even need a spreadsheet unless you get beyond a handful of variables.

Variable one - she's gonna think of them as variables because problems are more nerve wracking - there are fans outside. They've heard from someone, through a grapevine or hedgerow, that Harry stays here a couple days each Christmas.

Emma can see a way out of this, though it requires sending Harry to be the sacrificial lamb. He will have to go to the altar and sign things, which is better than being beheaded, and take pictures and give hugs and lead them away. Then Emma can linger, maybe eat lunch in the pub garden and leave when the coast is well and truly clear. It's not how she wants to spend their last day this break together, but it gets them both out of here unexposed, if not totally unscathed.

This is the best case scenario.

Variable two - while he was downstairs Gemma texted. She's cottoned on. Well, Emma is totally afraid and halfway sure her friend can sense that she's sleeping with her little brother every chance she gets and hasn't been honest about it. Emma knows Harry has not been forthright either. The puzzle pieces can't be hard to put together. They've gotten lazy. No, the word is addicted. The fact that they both always disappeared and went dark for the same number of days was more than noticeable the first time, it wasn't a pattern yet thought. An easy to recognize and predict four three year old pattern. Emma is good at those too, patterns. So is Gemma, all those themes, all those books.

They'd talked about it, she and Harry, that second year, their first meet up with intent. Agreed they would be limited, controlled, discreet. They would meet late, after pub crawls, and only get together after Gemma went back to London.

She's not sure who they were fooling.

Because then, instead, they just holed up, skipped social events, turned up moments apart from one another and left the same way. Basically they'd ignored every one of their rules, the ones they'd designed to keep their secret. They couldn't help themselves, nor stay away. She had to sit on her hands and never look at him to keep from touching or kissing in public. Harry didn't even bother.

Last year, Gemma had made a few comments, about them flirting, about Harry peacocking around Emma, about them leaving at the same time. About his hands on her.

Emma remembered when they'd pulled themselves out of each other's arms, him to go home, her to a meet up with Gem and some others. He was definitely less stealthy, not sleeping at home and all, but he insisted on holding her while he fell asleep and waking up to her kisses. What was she supposed to do but melt?

Emma had been late, because of course she was, she'd almost been out the door when he'd asked to be kissed goodbye. "I just put on lipstick." She'd shaken her head, and then his face had taken on that impish hue and he'd kissed her lipstick and clothes off. The waiting Uber had left without her and she lost her perfect 5 star rating.

She'd come in, flushed apologizing and lying about her mother needing her to go to the shops. Gemma had pushed her a drink and given her a look. Like she knew, why Emma was late and Harry was sneaking out to sleep in a shitty pub bed. Then later, she'd said, "Harry's up to something, someone, he's been staying out all night again. My mum isn't that bothered, but I just want to know who." The look she'd turned on Emma was nothing short of an invitation.

Emma could have confessed. But it felt like a final chapter, a bookend she wasn't ready for, so she'd shrugged and suggested maybe he had a girl in Manchester, or a boy. It had been a joke, but Gemma hadn't blinked, and Emma wasn't surprised either, so that seemed interesting. Luckily the conversation flowed beyond that when a new old friend arrived.

Gemma kept giving her looks though.

Emma did feel like she was wearing a scarlet H.

And she'd come to the party with it two days ago. The letter may not have been apparent on her sweater, the kinda ugly but also perfect Christmas sweater she'd found at the thrift store one day. It was red, the threads of it shot through with silver, like it was made of tinsel. And it was big, she was wearing it as a dress. The expediency of last year's dress fed her lunacy this year. They should definitely control themselves this time. Thank god the door had been locked.

The big H over the heart of her sweater cum dress was probably only visible to her.

And possibly to Harry, from the way he had zeroed in on her. He'd greeted her when she came in the kitchen door with a lingering kiss on her cheek. She was totally breathless just from seeing him. He had grown. He was a bit taller and seemed to have slimmed down. And his hair was brushing his shoulders in this way that could only be described as princley. She was waiting and hoping for true love's kiss.

That was probably why, when he looked around naughtily and scooted her over 5 steps to be under the mistletoe, she hadn't even been able to find an eye roll of protest. The kiss had tasted like home, because he was the best thing about Christmas and coming home to Holmes Chapel. He was what she longed for on days that literally didn't end in Iceland, cozy nights with him, under the blankets near a fire. It lingered, his lips on hers, the slick of his Christmas cookie scented tongue. He held her a moment later, the hug lasted too long as well.

"Oooh, Harry get off!" Gemma had harrumphed.

Emma had been sure her face was bright red, but Harry had just rolled with it, pointed to the mistletoe, and said, "Seemed more appropriate than a full make out!" He'd pulled back and tossed that comment over his shoulder but winked at her as his hands dropped. It had seemed to satisfy for that moment. That was before Emma had ignored rules and definitely fallen into her pattern. The Boar's Head on Boxing Day and maybe a few more. Hell, even the landlady recognized them and told them she'd saved their preferred room for them. Gemma was quick, sharp as a knife blade and could cut like one too, when hurt.

Maybe Gemma had gotten sick of the unexplained sober night disappearing acts and called him out.

Would they come clean? Did that mean this was over? Did that mean this was beginning?

Emma wasn't even sure what she wanted. This was the worst case scenario, that those they loved and were deceiving knew.

Or, maybe they knew for an even worse reason.

Variable three - it had gotten out to the press. Someone had snapped a photo of them kissing before the "we were just hugging" excuse. Or got them together here in a more salacious situation. Going to a room together - no - that can't be right. They meet here, behind closed doors, no one can get to them here, it's like their fortress. Nobody knows. Would the landlady sell them out?

Emma takes a deep breath, she's just given herself some very rapid fire and escalating worst case scenarios. She needs more data. "What's wrong?" Her voice is steady.

Maybe not steady enough, he looks up with his brow quirked and his mouth a bit drawn.

He reads her, she feels him open her up like the spine of a book. She hopes he doesn't ask. How long would it take to explain the crazy journey her mind just took? Instead he just tilts his head and gives her a naughty smile. "We're stuck!" His eyebrows raise like he's just told her he found a stash of herbs that act like viagra.

"Huh?" For as quick a thinker as she is, she feels really behind. May have been that smile's promise, or that his news is simple, innocuous, not full of consequences.

"Come look." His head motions to the window he is standing in front of. He puts her in front of him immediately and hooks his chin over her shoulder. "We're snowed in!" He's gleeful.

"You'll miss your flight." She sounds worried. This would stress her out.

"I will, but I won't miss out on you! And I can't get my ass chewed because this is an act of God!"

"An act of God to get you laid!" She laughs. She's joking.

He doesn't look amused. "I already got laid." He tries for a playful eye roll, it doesn't land, like when you jump off a swing and miss, tumble over, twist an ankle. "I'm excited, how cozy is this! We get to hang out for at least another day. We can order food in and stay in bed and watch movies! Everyone else will be snowbound too so we won't have to put on real clothes or anything at all and go to the pub or family dinner or anything. Just us two with no obligations!"

He looks gleeful to have extra time off. She shouldn't begrudge him, he works hard and so does she. "What movie do you want to watch?" He's already digging for his laptop and sweats, he's down to a tee, tossing her the one she slept in.

There's a part of Emma that thinks she should bring up all the winding trails her mind just ran, instead, she smiles and catches the love bug he's infected with. "You pick, baby." Baby, wow, she thought she only said that in her head, or when she's under him. She'd be happy if he doesn't notice. He does, and the way he looks over it makes her happier.

Hours later, after he calls down for shepherds pie and tea he says, "We should get pints'"

"I don't like beer."

"Then wine!"

"Ok, wine." They usually only had tipsy tumbles at the party. This was intentional; on her part at least, she liked to remember their limited time together so she could live off it all year. "I feel like I need to warn you, wine makes me feel sexy."

"Oh, oh no, what will I do?" He put his hand to his heart then to his head and reclined in an arch that belied his 'I don't dance' claims. Maybe not yet, but one day he'd be a dancer. "I know you will launch an assault on my virtue!" He stuck his tongue to the cover of his smirking mouth. She'd take that invitation.

"Yeah. I should make a start on that job now!" She advances on him with all the moves she put into being the best footballer in sixth form. Harry runs from her, but the room is small and cozy and cluttered, so he quickly tumbles over. He groans from the floor.

"Oh, are you hurt babe?" She's on her knees looking his perfect face over for forming bruises when he laughs and pulls her down on top of him.

"Nope, fine and dandy!"

"Dandy is right!" She secretly loved his evolving look. But had to take him down a few pegs regularly.

"Heeey! I had to call a foul, you are way faster than you look!"

"How does one look fast?" She's talking, he's kissing.

"When you look like you have moves," he moved his eyebrows in illustration, "and I'm like a newborn gazelle."

"Bullshit, I think you just get distracted."

He blinked and just stared for a moment. "Nobody's ever said that but my mum." Emma wasn't sure what that meant, but it meant something. The deep kiss and eye contact said so. As did his downshift.

They'd been on 4th gear headed to 5th when she'd started joking. Now he was back to third and decelerating.

"Cmon," he broke the kiss to say and came back like her lips were honey to his bee. It took him three lip locks to get to the next words. "Let's go get cozy and watch something."

She barely remembers the movie he put on. But she'll always remember him narrating it in her ear and his comment on the aesthetic.

"Do you like the costumes and set design or the actual plot?" She tilted her head back to ask and found her lips had the same magnets in them his had earlier. Must be contagious like his glee for snow days.

"Both, but I guess ideally they are equally great, but I'd say the latter in this case."

"You know, pop star, for a boy who left school early, you're awfully cerebral." She meant this as a compliment.

He blushed and gave her a shy smile. "Nah, I'm a lad."

There was something about the way he said it, like this was one of those beliefs everyone had about themselves that they didn't really share, but affected them.

Emma climbed up over him. "Hey, you're not allowed to put yourself down around me, ok?"

"Being a lad isn't necessarily a bad thing." That rang true, he believed that.

"Yeah, I agree with you. But you aren't just a lad Harry."

He looks askance for a second. "I mean, I'm not like, a genius or anything," he nudged her, "not like some people."

"I'm not a genius." He made a face. "I'm not. I'm smart, but more than that I'm dedicated, and you obviously are as well. You work really hard Harry, and you make people really happy. You make great music. You know that, right? That what you do has merit? That it matters?"

"I'm not saving the planet." He looked deeply at her.

"Neither am I." He scoffed. "No, really. I'm just trying to do what I can to make things a little better. And you are too."

"Yeah, but I want to do more, like more good."

"And you will, you do know you're like 21 right." Sometimes she needed this reminder too. He was even younger than her.

"Not quite."

"Stop reminding me I'm older than you." She ruffled his hair.

"Older and wiser."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Styles."

Harry reversed their positions, she was under him, looming blue and beautiful above her. "I dunno, I like my geography."

The kisses he was applying to her collarbone were pretty compelling.

"I guess I'd have to see a little more flattery," she sighed.

"I think you're the smartest girl I've ever met." That kiss was right below her ear.

She made an encouraging sound.

"I love the color of your eyes when there is soft light behind you." That kiss was to the same spot on the other side. It was also very specific.

"I miss you and the way you smell 11 months out of the year." That one was on the hollow at the base of her throat.

"If I could, I'd just follow you from Amsterdam to Iceland so that I got to wake up to you every morning." That one she felt required a follow up, but that kiss was on her mouth and escalated to all of the other positions his held.

It wasn't until the next morning, when they we're still snowbound, cozy, and together that she thought to say, "You know you could do anything you wanted, be anything you wanted. You're limitless, Harry."

She didn't tell him she'd also love if he chose to follow her between her school and her hoped for career. Just like she hoped he would never tell her he wanted her to follow him on tour. It was too limited.

She wished they were limitless together instead of on the divergent roads they'd chosen.

[420themanbehindtheslaughter69]

Found Diary...

This is 100% based on a TikTok I legit just saw by yoongi.xd so full credit to them for the idea :)

R/F/N = Random Female Name R/M/N = Random Male Name

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst(?), lemon(not really)

Au: Non-Idol au, High School au, Gender neutral! Reader, it's 2019, Yoongi is 17

Song: Bubblegum Bitch by Marina and the Diamonds

Word Count

Warnings: swearing,

Pov: alternating

POV - Y/n's First Person

High school... I hate it. I've always hated it. I feared going into high school since I was little. The only reason why I had any bit of motivation is that I got to see my best friend Yoongi.

Min Yoongi. The introvert who can do literally anything. It's crazy. I don't know how we ended up becoming friends, but we did. He's always been a tough cookie and had a hard exterior. Though it didn't take long for me to break into it.

It apparently took less amount of time for this bitch named R/f/n. They met about two months ago, and they're already sucking faces.

Which is what's happening right now.

"Can you guys like not to do that while I'm trying to eat?" I look at Yoongi and R/f/n and they pull away.

"No." R/f/n scoffs trying to pull Yoongi back in for a... I can't even call it a kiss. "No, R/f/n, it's okay. We can continue later, Okay?" R/f/n pouts and nods her head, making me fake a gag.

"Okay, Yoongi-Baby. I should probably get going then. I love you." She stands up giving him another kiss. "I love you too, R/f/n." They wave to each other and she exits the cafeteria.

"Fucking finally. I thought that you'd be stuck there forever." My comment makes Yoongi chuckle. "Yeah, she's really touchy. It's okay though. I like her a lot." He looks down with a shy smile on his face.

"Yeah, I know you like her a lot. And I'm so happy that you've finally found someone that makes you happy." He looks up at me and I smile at him. "What do you mean? You make me happy? You're my friend." The legendary words that make any fool break.

Being friends with him is great and all but I think I would prefer to be more. "You know what I mean, Yoongi. We're friends, not lovers. She makes you happy in a romantic way." I stick my spoon in the pudding of my school lunch and stir it around before deciding that there is no way in Hell am I going to eat it.

"Thank god you're not about to eat that. I probably would've thrown up if you did." Yoongi says chuckling before drinking the chocolate milk in a cardboard box. "It's chunky." He continues after setting the milk down.

I look at the pudding and pull a face of disgust. "Yeah, it's very chunky." I throw the spoon on the tray and look over at the clock on the wall. "We have 10 minutes to get to class... Do you wanna start heading there now?" Yoongi nods and we both stand up and throw our shit away.

As we exit the Cafeteria, this stupid fucking bitch, R/m/n, throws a basketball at me. I hate guys. "Yo Yoongi! You gonna play later? Also sorry..." He stops for a moment and looks at me. "You." He then looks back at Yoongi.

"Nah, I promised Y/n that I'd help them with their homework." R/m/n nods and walks away. I completely forgot that I had asked him to help me.

"Thank fucking god it's Friday. I literally don't wanna have to deal with these fuckers for much longer." Yoongi says wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

~ After School~

"Do you really need help? It seems as if you just wanted to hang out?" Yoongi drops the notebook onto his bed and looking at me. Obviously, I lied. I look away in shame, and he chuckles. "If you wanted to hang out, you could've just asked. We're friends after all."

"But it seems as if we've been so distant." He lets out a long sigh and he rubs his eyes.

"Is this about R/f/n?" Yoongi raises his voice a little bit, making me jump.

"No, it isn't about R/f/n. I mean it kind of is bu-" Yoongi lets out a long irritated sigh.

"Why do you hate her so much? What the fuck did she do to you?" He yells at me.

"I never said I hated her!" Even though I do despise her, I would never admit that, especially to Yoongi. "What the fuck is your problem? Why are you getting so mad at me?" Suddenly, I'm angry. All I wanted was to hang out with Yoongi outside of school after what seems like the first time in months, and he's getting angry with me for no reason? Oh hell no.

"Recently all you've been doing is complaining about the fact that we're never with each other, but you're forgetting that we literally go to the same school and that we have most of the same classes! It's so fucking annoying!" I'm furious now. I stand up and start packing up my stuff with tears in my eyes.

I'm not crying because I'm sad, I'm crying because I'm angry. I run out of his room and get my shoes on at his door. "Y/n... I didn't mean to-" He calmly states as he stands at the top of the stairs.

"No. Fuck you Min Yoongi." I finally walk out of his house wanting nothing more than to lay in my bed. I want nothing more than to be at home, in my own room, with my headphones in, curled up under my blankets. I stomp down the street speedily, I turn around and see Yoongi standing outside his house.

"Yeah... fuck you Min Yoongi," I mutter looking forward again.

~

Lunchtime... It used to be my favourite subject in school because that's when I got to see Yoongi. It's been about a week since our fight. It was such a silly fight as well. I also haven't felt like eating out in public, so I haven't been buying any lunch.

Yoongi seems happy. He's been with the basketball players, their girlfriends, and R/f/n. He's acting as if nothing happened, as if he didn't freak out at me. I only have two other friends other than him, and one of them, Tara, doesn't have the same lunch as me.

"Hello~ Earth to Y/n!" Tommy says, waving his hand in front of my face. Tommy and Tara are twins, and they both happen to my two other friends. Convenient, I know. "You've been staring at Yoongi for the past ten minutes." Tommy continues before taking a big bite of his sandwich.

A sandwich that includes turkey, bologna, provolone cheese, mayo, and tofurkey. For some reason, he likes the smokey flavour of the fake meat mixed with the real meat. "Yeah, I'm aware I've been staring at him." I roll my eyes, playfully making Tommy laugh.

Tommy. Twin brother of Tara. Both are seventeen and from America. He has messy brown hair and greenish-brown eyes that look green in the right lighting, and in another lighting, looks brown. Cheap warm-tones cafeteria lighting makes his eyes the in-between colour of hazel. He has pale skin with natural red cheeks, along with freckles across his nose. He's not unattractive but he's definitely not on most people's level of beauty.

"How are you after the fight?" He says nonchalantly, peeling the crust off of part of the sandwich he's about to bite into.

"I wouldn't necessarily call it a fight. More of a 'he flipped and I didn't wanna deal with it' situation." I pick at my nails anxiously. I don't wanna talk about this. Tara knows that, but I guess she didn't tell Tommy.

"Yeah... Right." He says squinting his eyes at me to show he doesn't fully believe me. "Anyway, you wanna hang out after school? My biological dad sent a new video game if you wanna try it with me." I look at him with wide eyes, making him chuckle a little.

"Fuck yeah! What time?" He stops and thinks for a moment.

"Four-Thirty? I have theatre club after school."

I also have stuff after school to do. Not like a club, I mean I guess you can call it that, but I just go and chill out in the Library, reading a book with a group of other students. It's not a club where you have to sign up to be in, but more of a free-range. It's fun and relaxing, especially since I don't have to talk to anyone there unless the leader really wants us to, which she's an introvert and doesn't want to.

~

Alas, the school day is over. It's two-fifteen, the bell has rung indicating that we can now leave, but I head over to the library. Oh, I'm the first one here. I take a deep breath as I sit in the comfortable cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the Library. This area is very isolated, which is why we sit over here. It's quiet and away from other students who are wanting to come in here and study or something.

Though it's isolated, in the seat I am in, I have the perfect view of the door, which is open from Seven-thirty to two-fifteen, and then after, the Librarian, Mr Kim, who isn't too much older than us, closes the door but it remains unlocked.

It's now two-thirty, most of the kids that usually show up are here reading their books, there are a few new students who just wanted an escape, and-

"Ayo Yoongi pass the ball!" I look over at the door and see a dude, I recognize as R/m/n catching the brownish-red ball from a shorter boy with dark hair, I can obviously notice is Yoongi, especially since R/m/n called his name. I whine slightly as I slump into my chair. I hear the girls who are misogynistic for their boyfriend's validation giggle as they watch the guys.

Please God... don't let them see me.

Luckily they didn't, and I continue reading until I finish the book. Then I packed up my stuff and decided that it was better off that I leave early.

POV- Yoongi's First Person

"Hey, Yoongi~" R/f/b comes strutting over with her friends with a notebook in her hand. That looks like Y/n's notebook... she never let anyone touch it.

"I found Y/n's diary." She smiles mischievously.

"Let's read it!" R/m/n says, and the others agree. "But Yoongi should be the one to read it." R/f/n rolls her eyes before handing it to me.

I don't really wanna have to do this...

"Dear Diary, I will be writing all of my important accomplishments or just important things in general here. So starting with today, we have a new kid. He's really cute, I'm afraid to talk to him though."

"Boring! Skip forward!" One of R/f/n friends say. I nod and skip a few pages. October tenth two-thousand thirteen... that's when Y/n and I met.

"Today is October 10, 2013. Oh, dear Diary, I met a boy. He made my dull heart light up with joy. He's shy and kind of mean, but I think I can become his friend. I'm gonna keep trying."  Oh god... I continue reading every few pages until the most recent...

"Dear Diary... we fell apart. He yelled at me and called me annoying. I had lied to him, saying I needed help with homework, when in reality, I just wanted to be with him. I wanted to be with him outside of school, with no interruptions from his basketball friends who always push me around when he's not there, with no interruptions from his snobby girlfriend to told me to go kill myself and to stay away from him. Just him and I. But when he noticed that I didn't actually need help, he flipped. I don't know what I did wrong... maybe it was because I kept it a secret that his friends are so shitty. At least I still have Tommy and Tara. They're the only ones I need. Oh, who am I kidding? I miss him so much. I love him." My heart stops as I continue reading. I look up at the people around me who just stare at me awkwardly and apologetically.

"Did you guys really do that to them?" I take them not answering as a yes. I look down at my watch to see it only just hit four o'clock. I have to go see y/n...

I put their diary in my bag and swing it over my shoulder before running out of the library. Everything seems to have turned in slow motion. My heart is pounding My friends are yelling after me, but all I want is to see y/n. I want to see their beautiful smile again. They like me... They like me. I was so blind to notice, but now I think about it, it was so obvious. I smile while running as I think about all the moments I have had with Y/n.

I finally arrived at Y/n's house, I'm out of breath and my legs sting. I walk up to the front door...

POV- Y/n's First Person

It's currently Four twenty-five, so I should probably start heading out to Tommy and Tara's house. Just as I open the door, I am greeted by someone I really don't wanna see. Yoongi.

"Y/n..." He lets out a long sigh and a small smile. "I'm so sorry. I fucked up. I don't even know why I freaked out as I did." I just stand there. I don't know what to say to him. I miss him... I miss being with him. I open my mouth to say something, but my mouth is dry and I can't say anything. Yoongi steps closer. My heart pounds out of my chest. His hand makes contact with my hip hand and...

The world around us has stopped. Nothing else is important. Min Yoongi is standing in my doorway kissing me. His single hand on my waist, slides around to my back, pulling me closer. We can't...

I push him away. "Yoongi..." I whisper. I didn't mean for it to come out so quietly, but with how nervous I am I can't help it. I want to kiss him. I've always wanted to... but now that it's actually happening-

"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much. I'm so sorry... please I need you back in my life... I never realized your feelings for me until just recently, and because I finally realized, that made me rethink everything. I never truly liked R/f/n... I never felt the way I do when I'm with you. You make me happy." He pants, pulling me toward my living room couch. I comply and sit next to him.

"Yoongi... I really like you. I always have. But you never liked me, why has that suddenly changed?" I want to cry. I feel so overwhelmed by everything. He shrugs before placing his hand on my cheek.

"Can I kiss you again... please?" I don't even care anymore. I nod and he pulls me towards him. His soft upturned lips make contact with mine. I move his silky hands from my cheek to my waist, and I hold onto his face. Yoongi's tongue tries to enter my mouth, but I allow it. I suck on his tongue as his lips are still pressed to mine.

Knock Knock Knock Knock

We pull away quickly. He laughs at the string of spit connecting us before I stand up and go over to the door.

"Hey, Tommy."

"It's five o'clock... is everything okay?" I look at my phone and my eyes widen. Has it really been thirty minutes since Yoongi got here?

"Yeah everything's fine, I'll be over in a minute though, okay? I might need to even wait until my mom gets home so she can drive me over since it's getting dark." Tommy nods and smiles. He waves and walks away, so I quickly shut the door and walk back over to Yoongi. "My room, now," I say softly and we both run up the stairs and into my room.

It's been a while since he's been in my room. I never told her, but my mom knew I liked Yoongi and as much as she trusted him, she felt afraid that he would do something.

Yoongi tackles me onto my bed after locking my door. His hands are on either side of my head. He dips down and starts leaving small kisses up my neck to my mouth, once he reaches my mouth he just barely touches it. "Yoongi... please..." I whine and he chuckles. I tangle my fingers in his hair.

Oh god, his beautiful dark hair. People wouldn't consider his hair curly, but it has some natural texture to it. So silky and soft. So healthy... every damn thing about Yoongi is perfect. His soft lips trail from my mouth to the soft dimple on my cheek, down my neck. He lingers at my neck for a little while, allowing me to feel how perfect even his lips are. So good at kissing, I guess that watching him and R/f/n make out had to lead me to think otherwise... R/f/n.

"Wait... Yoongi." He pulls away with a hum and looks at me. His dark lust-filled eyes have now turned into precious puppy dog eyes. They're glossed over and widened, as his lips are in a pout. "What about R/f/n?" He chuckles, making me embarrassed for asking.

"I'm done with her. Don't think about her, or Tommy, or R/m/n, or Tara, or Mr. Kim, or Ms. Jung. Think about us." I nod and he leans down to kiss me again, but before he can, someone knocks on my door.

"Y/n, I'm home." My mom says on the other side of the door.

"Okay, hi mom!" I call out, Yoongi flops softly onto the space next to me and wraps his arms around me.

~

"Tommy give me my phone!" I yell as Tommy and I run around my living room. Yoongi and Tara laugh at us, and I finally grabbed my phone from him and stuff it in my pants.

"Do you really think that'll stop me?" He says reaching towards me, but stops when Yoongi lets out a cough. "Sorry, Yoongi. Didn't mean that in a creepy way." He awkwardly apologizes and we sit down on the couch. I drape the blanket over Yoongi and I, as Tommy and Tara fight over who gets to hold the popcorn.

"I thought this was gonna be a calm movie night," Yoongi whispers in my ear with a smile. I let out a soft laugh and look over at the two twins.

"At least Tara isn't threatening to shove her fist up his ass again." Just as I say that, Tara then yells she was gonna shove her fist up Tommy's ass.

"I don't want anything else than to be here with you guys," Yoongi whispers again, placing a kiss on my nose. "I love you."

"I love you more."

[walkerismychoice]

Rumor Has It (Raleigh X MC)

Book: Platinum

Pairing: M!Raleigh X MC

Rating: PG-13 (just a slight bit of language)

Author’s note:  This is a request from @withbeautyandrage for Day 7 of the Choices February Challenge - Gossip. Yes I realize I’m already 2 days behind, but better late than never right? Subsequently other requests are running behind as well but I promise to complete them all.

Word Count: 1679

Every morning on her walk to the recording studio, Aria makes a point to take in the sights and sounds of the city. A small town girl at heart, she doesn't know if she'll ever get over the wonder that is New York. As much as she she still feels a bit out of place among the bustling crowd of natives zooming along the sidewalks with their heads down and only their destination in mind, she hopes to never become as jaded as so many of them are.

She's gotten a later start today so she has to skip stopping for coffee. That doesn't keep her from appreciating the rich aroma wafting through the air as she passes her favorite cafe. She pauses a moment, closes her eyes, and inhales deeply. Smelling it almost as good as tasting it. Never mind, it just makes her want it more, so she picks up the pace to ensure time for her weekly, somewhat self-indulgent ritual.

“Hey, Joe!” Aria waves at the news stand owner.

His face lights up when he sees her. “How’s my favorite customer this morning?”

“Lacking caffeine, but otherwise decent. Got anything for me today?” Sure actual print media is falling out of fashion and she can get all the latest news and gossip in real time at the tip of her fingers, but there’s something about seeing herself on paper that makes it all more real. Some might think that’s vain, or just downright lame, but it’s all still new to her and she’s going to enjoy it while the novelty lasts.

“There’s a blurb about your collaboration with Avery in People and you’re mentioned in a couple of the rags.” Joe hands her the magazines.

“Thank-” Aria begins as she takes the stack only to be stopped in her tracks by the cover image facing her. "Uh, thanks Joe. Gotta run." She takes some cash out of her pocket, places it in his hand, and takes off, not evening waiting for him to offer the change she always refuses.

Once inside the busy Overnight Records lobby she plops down in a chair off to the side to collect herself. Staring at the pair on the cover and reading the accompanying headline her heart sinks once again: Reformed bad boy Raleigh Carrera and America's sweetheart Jaylen Riaz are the new “it” couple.

Aria wants to scream. She wants to tear up the magazine and chuck it across the room. But she can't afford another public meltdown spurred on by her rivalry with Jaylen. Ugh, she wasn't even trying to be anyone's rival, but their competition fueled it, and then when Jaylen got to sing Aria's song she lost it. She's spent enough time trying to ensure the public that she's not the hot-headed lunatic they saw on TV that day. Jaylen won't get the best of her again.

Just toss it in the bin, Aria's brain tries to convince her body to act responsibly, but curiosity gets the best of her. She opens up the publication to a nauseating two page spread and her stomach turns - Raleigh and Jaylen dancing too close in a club, sitting cozily in a booth, holding hands on their way out. However, none of those cause as much pain as the the one of Raleigh standing with his arm around Jaylen, an enormous smile on her face as he's whispering in her ear.

That's not all though. The worst part, the final insult to injury is Raleigh's hand down low straddling the the small of Jaylen's back and the curve of her ass, or at least that's what she assumed from experience. Throughout Aria's "relationship" with Raleigh that was the one thing, a simple intimate gesture both playful and protective in nature and hidden from view, that led Aria to believe what they had wasn't just for show. What a fool she had been.

Before Aria can listen to rational thoughts telling her that this could possibly be another publicity stunt, she's distracted by an inset with a broken apart picture of her and Raleigh.

"Rumor has it Raleigh broke Aria Campbell's heart when he left her for Jaylen?!," she can't help but read aloud, her voice escalating much more than intended. A nearby man in a suit looks over at her, and Aria takes a deep breath and vows again she's not going to fall apart. Out of patience and out of time, she throws the tabloids away, no longer interested what any of them have to say.

The click of her heels on the marble floor sounds extra loud as she stomps off in the direction of the studio. Aria’s fine, she really is. Her little thing with Raleigh was never supposed to be real, so what he’s doing now is none of her concern. Out of sight, out of mind...until he’s not.

“Fuck!” Aria blurts out, clasping her hands over her mouth as she comes to a dead stop.

“Well it’s nice to see you too, darling. Didn’t you miss me?” Raleigh stands inches away looking as smug as ever.

“What are you doing here?” Aria dodges his question with one of her own. 

“You know we are signed by the same record label....”

“But you weren’t on the schedule today,” Aria says before realizing she’s given away too much.

Raleigh smirks. “You stalking me Campbell?”

“Just an observation,” she replies coolly. “Anyway...I’m running late, so see you around.” She breezes past him without waiting for a response and doesn’t look back.

Aria’s recording session goes well - exceptionally well actually. Music has always been a safe space to channel her emotions, where she can feel without thinking too much. In fact, she’s almost forgotten she was so upset about Raleigh this morning, when she walks out the studio door to see the living, breather reminder once again.

“What, are you stalking me now, Carerra?”

“Touche.” Raleigh chuckles but then his tone becomes more somber. “I did check the schedule because I wanted to talk to you before you left. Something didn’t sit right after I saw you this morning. “Are you upset with me?”

Such a loaded question. Yes she’s mad at him even though she has no right to be, or maybe she does. Their relationship started out fake but somewhere along the way there was a shift, at least for her. But then he just let her go like she was just a contractual obligation that had been fulfilled.

“How’s Jaylen?” She deflects yet again, but she can't help getting right to the point. 

Raleigh shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “Is that what this is about? Jaylen and I are just friends, if you could even call it that. You know damn well how easily the media makes assumptions and how much the label encourages it. It's more like a work thing.”

"Just like I was a work thing? Did you fuck her too?" Aria fires back, almost in disbelief over her newfound boldness.

For the first time ever, she's the one to leave him lost for words. His eyes wide before they begin to soften Raleigh takes a step forward and tries to place a hand on her shoulder but she flinches and backs up against the hallway wall.

"Aria....it's not like that, we weren't like that."

"There was never a we. Once our little stunt was done, you seemed perfectly fine to wash your hands of me."

"But I thought-" Raleigh runs a hand through his through his hair. "Look, I'm used to women throwing themselves at me. I've never had to question if someone was into me. I really thought that you genuinely liked me, and the feeling was mutual, but then you talked about how relieved you were it was over and that we weren't forced to spend time together anymore. I may not have shown it, but that hurt."

Oh my god. Aria cannot believe what an idiot she had been. Unlike Raleigh, she'd never had such confidence in relationships. She doesn't want to say she had been testing Raleigh, but that's basically what she had done. She didn't want to face rejection, so she'd thought if she played it cool, Raleigh would have an easy out if he needed it.

"And I thought since you didn't fight me on it, you didn't really want me. God, I ruined everything."

Raleigh takes another step closer, and with her back against the wall Aria now has nowhere to go, but she doesn't want to either. He brings a hand up and she lets him rest his palm against her cheek, fingers twining in her her hair.

"Well then, to be clear, I want you Aria, I always have."

Raleigh's words and the sincerity in his voice create a spark that ignites a flame inside her. And when he leans in to kiss her, lips softly brushing hers until her response lets him unleash the hunger that's been lingering, that flame sets her whole body alight, like fireworks illuminating the dark night sky.

When they finally break for air, Aria can't speak. Raleigh has literally taken her breath away.

"Convinced yet?" Raleigh asks the question he already knows the answer to, amusement in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips. Aria just nods and he goes in for another kiss.

"Wait..." Aria turns her head and pushes her hands against his chest. "Aren't you supposed to be with Jaylen? Shouldn't you clear that up before anyone sees us? We wouldn't want to create any more scandalous rumors."

"But scandalous rumors make for the best publicity." Raleigh chuckles.

Aria laughs but shakes her head. "Your reputation may be bulletproof, but I don't need to add mistress to my list."

"Okay, okay. I'm texting Fiona to help handle my 'break-up' with Jaylen effectively immediately. Once the word is out, you're all mine and I don't care who sees it. Deal?"

"Deal." Aria shakes his hand as if they are entering another business deal, however this time it's anything but.

[lovelyirony]

made up fic title: icarus, icarus (you flew too high)

"There is a kind of tragic joke. You can’t really keep a man down -good but often otherwise- because history’s mechanics are built to keep him from climbing toward the top. Somehow, Icarus gets to be reborn as Iron Man.” -Wesley Morris

When Tony was young, he didn’t think that limitations really ever mattered to someone like him, and...he was right. They didn’t matter. 

The Starks were a family you never crossed because one overly-polite tone of disapproval from Maria Stark could send your social pedigree reeling. Just one scoff from Howard Stark sends your whole world plummeting. 

And Tony? 

Well...he learned both sides of the coin. There’s no telling what kind of damage he would do if he cared about others enough to. 

At least, that’s the picture he paints for all to see. The mediums he use are just fascinating. 

When Tony was little, he was the darling of American media. Whip-smart but in the “aw gee mister” Dennis the Menace nature that earned a ruffle of the hair, a disapproving-but-gentle-smile from his mother. 

Outside of the cameras, Tony was left alone. His mother would much rather dedicate her time to her socialite friends, trying to rejuvenate the feeling of youth that had fled so long ago, rushing in expectations of adulthood that she was loath to accept. 

His father wanted to focus on a man that was left on faded posters, advertising war bonds and a solution to a war that involved far more than anyone wanted to admit. Howard Stark much preferred to look through the world with amber-tinted glasses, and he didn’t much care if his son had a different tint. 

The thing about Tony as a child was this: he really was naive. Looking back on it, he should’ve seen his parents’ faults. 

But when you’re a kid, and when you watch TV shows and you read books for kids your age, all of the pictures and words depict parents as loving. 

So you think yours are too. 

Or, you think that maybe they’ll love you if you do the right thing. You don’t really know what the right thing is, so then you look towards one thing you should never look to: perfection. 

Maybe if you can get straight A’s, your mom will look at your report card and she’ll be proud. 

Maybe if you can perfect the robotics of one of the machines that your dad has been having trouble with, he’ll take an interest in what you have to say about the possibility of mirror technology for planes for the military. 

Neither of these work. 

So maybe if you look perfect. Maybe if you never have a hair out of place, maybe if you attain the everyone-wants-to-be-me status your parents will notice. 

And they won’t. 

They never do, and Tony? Well. 

Sometimes, people realize that it is not their fault that their parents are terrible people. Others don’t, and they internalize that. They think it’s their fault. 

Tony works hard. He studies everything, and he just wants someone to love him for himself. 

And then he goes to college. 

Thrown into a situation where there is no parent to impress but they’re still hoping that the heir of Stark Industries makes good decisions. 

And he does. 

He’s nice to everyone and any time any of the staff wants him to go for any publicity stunt, he does. He wears slacks and button-downs and drags himself out of bed and brings extra pens for giddy autographs and answers every single question comparing him to Howard with a glittering smile. 

Tony’s so fucking tired. He’s just...it’s all too much. 

He doesn’t do anything drastic, of course. No, too many eyes on him for that. Doesn’t want to become the next celebrity shut-in for a “delicate constitution” and “stress from work” or whatever bullshit his mom will sell to the papers to make sure that his legacy stays untainted from any malicious words. 

But he does sit outside at two in the morning. Doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain or snowing or so bitterly cold that after about twenty minutes he doesn’t feel his fingers. 

There’s a person at the front desk who sees him every single time he goes outside. 

James Rhodes, who did not originally want the night-owl shift, but got guilt-tripped into it because Hope needed to help her mom at her house. 

So now, here he is. 

Staring at Tony Stark, who still wears the button-down shirts and slacks outside and doesn’t carry a fucking umbrella. 

Jesus, it’s fucking depressing. He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to be sad at the front desk for someone else’s sake. 

The next time, it’s a torrential downpour. Thundering and lightning comes crashing, and the windows shake with the noise. 

And there he goes. 

Except before he steps out, comes back soaked, James does the only thing he can think to do: 

"Tony Stark, you get your ass back in here,” he says. 

He knows he shouldn’t have said that. 

You say one thing to a rich white kid and you’re down the drain. 

Tony Stark just looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Get inside. You don’t need to go outside for anything.” 

“I didn’t know you noticed.” 

“You’re really the only person who comes here at two in the morning.” 

“I am?” 

“Well, besides people at parties on Friday nights.” 

“Oh.” 

“Why do you go outside?” 

Tony freezes. It’s not a question he wants to answer. 

“Why do you work so late?” 

“No one else wanted to.” 

“Oh. Why did you decide to work on-campus?” 

“Flexible hours and I don’t have to drive anywhere.” 

“That sounds nice. Are you really going to stop me from going outside?” 

There’s another clap of thunder, white flashing all across the room from the windows, the windows themselves shaking. The rain pounds harder. 

“I think if you go outside you’ll come back looking like a drowned rat, and you really don’t wanna look like that.” 

“And what do I want to look like?” Tony asks. 

“I don’t know,” Rhodey says. “But drowned-rat-look was so two years ago.” 

Tony cracks a grin at that. 

“Can’t argue with that flawless logic. I’ll see you later.” 

And he walks off, as casual as can be. 

Thunder still shakes the building. 

But James is a little bit more at peace. 

- 

And then. 

Of course there’s an “And then” portion. 

Howard and Maria Stark die. 

It was a car crash, an accident. James avoids seeing the papers that don’t seem to care how graphic the pictures are, they’ll show it. 

He doesn’t know how to approach Tony Stark about this predicament, but everyone else, it seems, is just dying to, so-

Oh god. Yeah. Bad timing. 

Tony Stark does not come down the stairs at two a.m. for a week. For more than half of that week he is back home. But on the last day, he is there. 

He looks tired. Which of course he looks tired. He’s had people shove cameras in his face and he probably had to go over wills and estate hearings or whatever it is he needed to do. 

“I’m not coming back,” he tells Jim. 

“For the year, or for a long time?” he asks, because that kind of thing is something he’d like to know. 

“Ever. They don’t want me to start running the company.” 

“Why not?” 

“They say I’m too young. But that’s not the real reason.” 

“Okay.” 

And James leaves it at that. Because he is very much so not looking for any drama, it’s already drama enough that Tony’s parents died and there are already conspiracy gossip magazines just running with it. 

Tony is CEO, or at least co-CEO. He graces the covers of Forbes and Vogue and any other magazine that has any sort of interest in him. 

Another “and then” moment: 

He goes missing. 

He said he was ready for more responsibility, according to an article from Forbes. 

(What? James can keep up with news.) 

Tony Stark was ready for more responsibility, to prove that he could do what everyone said he couldn’t, to prove that he could further a legacy he didn’t want in the first place. 

So there was the Jericho missile. The demonstration went fine, all things considered by the US military report. 

The problem was that the cars got hijacked and Tony Stark was presumed dead. 

Ah. 

Another American society family gone to history books, and James Rhodes knew one of them at least on a somewhat personal level. 

He wasn’t going to tell anyone. 

At least not until he needed to pay off a loan or something. He’s not even sure what people would do with the fact that Tony Stark was a night owl who liked spending time outdoors. 

Maybe it’s because James Rhodes is gearing up for the military (at least, he thinks?) or maybe it’s because when he can’t go to bed he spends his time watching conspiracy videos and he shouldn’t do that, especially with all of the misinformation out there. 

People don’t think that Tony disappearing was a coincidence. It makes sense. 

Months after his parents death, and he assumes the role of CEO a year earlier than anticipated? 

Obadiah Stane has been working at that company for Tony’s entire lifetime and then some. It had to sting knowing someone without the “proper” years of education and familiarity would take over and maybe ruin whatever it was you had planned. 

So James Rhodes is kind of Concerned. 

- 

“You’re doing what?” His mama says over the phone. 

“I’m not gonna join Air Force,” Jim says to his mother. 

She’s been trying to convince him not to for about a solid year now. The reason she gives him is that he’s a damned fool who would probably get sent home with a broken foot or something anyways. He rolls his eyes at this. 

(The real reason is that she doesn’t want to see an American flag draped across a coffin she shouldn’t have had to consider.) 

“So what made you change your mind?” Dad asks. 

“Career opportunity. I’m going to work at Stark Industries.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Research and Development, plus a little bit of testing. I’ve been talking with a couple of friends.” 

“Which friends?” 

“You don’t know them, Ma.” 

“Why not?” 

James lets out a frustrated breath. 

“Because they’re from college.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know them.” Mama scoffs, and he can hear her moving around the kitchen.

“You-I’m not gonna argue. You don’t know them, I do, and I’m going to see if I can get hired at Stark Industries or not. I’ll call you as soon as I get news.” 

- 

Stark Industries is hiring him as soon as he walks in for the department. With Tony gone, they need all the help they can get, even from someone with almost no experience. 

He learns. 

He learns a hell of a lot. 

He learns that Howard Stark was a fucking asshole who had no idea how anything worked, and everyone loves Tony because he’s fun and hardworking and he knows what the company needs. 

James hasn’t forgotten the message. 

They say I’m too young to be CEO. But that’s not the real reason. 

He doesn’t know what Tony means by that. 

Until Obadiah Stane starts talking. He’s always had a loose tongue, it’s part of why many SI employees can jump ahead of the curve on decisions and pick up loose ends. 

“The boy was always a jokester,” Obadiah says to his old colleagues, the ones who reek of cigar smoke and outrageously expensive alcohol. “Never wanted to play it seriously, and that’s how it was with the Jericho, you know? Just like his old man, Anthony was.” 

He gets a bad taste in his mouth. 

Tony was never someone to joke, at least not all the time. He had quips for the cameras, but he never once spoke out of turn. He was almost impossible to get a negative reaction out of, had never really had any press scandals that James knew of. No one spoke about anything if it had happened.

James decides to do something that is most definitely illegal, and will most likely make him homeless: 

He accesses files that he’s not supposed to. Files on Stane’s computer, files that no one else has access to besides a remote access somewhere in Afghanistan. 

Tony Stark. 

Sitting in a ripped up tank top, blood all over him. He’s looking to the camera with a sort of determination. 

Obadiah should be turning this into the FBI or CIA or whatever underground organization there is. 

But he isn’t. 

Which means that he probably paid for this to happen, and now there’s something to be done. 

-

“What are you doing in this office?” 

James’ head snaps up to see the PA of Tony, Pepper Potts. Said to have the fury of all the dragons in the world, impeccable fashion sense, and a competency that would scare off God. 

James is terrified. 

“Um. I kind of got evidence against Stane.” 

“You found the files too?” 

“Yeah? Wait, you know? Please tell me you’re not on his side.” 

“He wouldn’t ever be my choice of an ally,” Pepper says, wrinkling her nose. She whips out a flash drive, tapping some things into the computer before shutting it down. “No, you’ll be helping me get my old boss back. I refuse to quit, I hate job hunting.” 

James is pretty sure that this is not the only reason, but job-hunting does suck. 

There are voices coming down the hallway. Pepper freezes. 

“What should we do? I’m not getting fired, oh my god-” 

Obadiah walks into the hallway with the higher-up offices, and there’s Rhodes and Miss Potts discussing some sort of thing that the R&D department probably needs marketing help on. 

He doesn’t notice Pepper slip a USB into her purse, thinking it’s lipstick. 

Obadiah always jumps to conclusions far too quickly, Howard used to tell him that that was what was going to do him in. 

- 

The US military takes care of it. Or someone like it. 

Pepper knows someone named Phillip Coulson, which sounds honestly like a name that shouldn’t be the name of an American man. 

“We’ll get him back as soon as possible,” says Mr. Coulson, who has a bland smile that betrays nothing and makes James feel uneasy. 

- 

Tony comes back in one piece. He comes back with bonus material. 

Rhodes shouldn’t have thought that. But now he has, and that is that. 

Pepper Potts made him come onto the tarmac with her. 

Tony stills. 

“What the absolute hell are you doing here?” 

There’s no heat to the statement, can’t be when he’s as exhausted as he is. 

“Moral support,” Pepper says. “He also works for you, I thought that’s how you knew each other.” 

Tony gives Rhodes a hard look. 

“Sure.” 

They’ll have a discussion later. 

- 

He shuts down weapons-manufacturing. Rhodes can see Stane’s eyes glint with anger from where he’s standing. 

“We’re all just tired,” he says, chortling as if Tony coming back after being captured for three months is all one gigantic joke that’s just waiting for the punchline. 

“No,” Tony says. 

For the first time in his life, he says no for himself. 

“I’m not tired,” he states plainly. “Well, I’m tired of sand in my hair.” 

Cue uneasy laughs. 

Tony continues on. “I have been complacent for too long. And I want my legacy to not be a continuation of my father’s, but a better legacy. Which is why, effective immediately, weapons manufacturing is being shut down.” 

Flash go the cameras, and Rhodes doesn’t know how he’s swung it, but he’s helping stuff Tony into a car, and that can’t be- 

It’s a burger. 

“You want fries or something?” Tony asks. “You can have fries. I don’t really like the fries they serve, not my deal.” 

Rhodey eats a cold fry that honestly sucks, but it’s better than no food at all. 

“You’re back and you’re already causing a Mount-Everest-level of work,” Pepper says. “I’ve missed that.” 

“What, they’ve been boring you to death?” 

“Nearly,” she says. “Let’s get you home.” 

James is not sure what to do in this situation. Because he probably shouldn’t be going to his technically-boss’s-place-of-residence, but he’s kind of gotten caught up in the drama of this whole situation, and he’s not sure if he remembered to get his apartment key from his office. 

Tony Stark keeps looking at him. 

“Why did you...? I thought you were going to fight for the Air Force or whatever. I didn’t think you wanted a job with us.” 

“I didn’t,” he says simply. “But you said that they didn’t want you to be CEO, and it wasn’t just because you were on the young side. I figured that you needed someone to at least find out.” 

“Did you think I was dead?” 

“I was about seventy-five percent sure you weren’t,” James says. 

“And why is that? Because I’m an inventor?” 

“No. It’s because you would go out in freezing temperatures for an hour in nothing but slacks and a white button-down in college, which was weird. What were you doing, anyways?” 

“Not important,” Tony says. “Pepper, can you order more food? I’ve dearly missed American cuisine and all the sodium.” 

“You need to go to a hospital.” 

“Yeah, not happening.” 

“And why is that?” 

“I’ll...” Tony sends a look to James. 

“I’ll tell you when we get home,” he says quietly. 

“Do you have a phone I can use for a taxi ride?” James asks. 

“You can take one of my cars.” 

James has seen the various articles on Tony Stark’s ever-growing car collection. All of them are worth more than his entire life, and he is petrified of them. 

“I can call a taxi.” 

“What, scared you’ll screw up the paint job?” 

“Scared I’ll crash.” 

Tony laughs, and then winces. It seems that something’s weighing on him. 

“That’s the least of my worries. I’ll set you up with a Ferrari, then.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” 

“It should! It’s my least favorite.” 

“And you still have one anyways?” 

"They tend to be for appearances only, although occasionally they can get the job done. I wouldn’t take one for a road trip.” 

- 

So James is driving a Ferrari and trying not to die, even though his boss told him he wouldn’t. 

He makes it home and leans against the wall of his apartment. 

His neighbor had stared at him. 

“You get a pay bonus or something?” 

“Or something, Clint. Or something.” 

“Okay, okay, I get it. No questions asked.” 

- 

Returning to work is...an ordeal. 

“You bought a Ferrari?” Wesley asks, looking over the car. “How? I thought you hated them!” 

“I do, and that doesn’t change anything,” James says. “Now hands off the car unless you want Tony Stark himself to smite you down.” 

“He wouldn’t smite me down,” they scoff. “At the most, he’ll give me a strong talking-to that in no way rivals my mother’s reactions to anything I do.” 

James grins, laughing. 

“I’d hate to meet your mother.” 

“Believe me, so did I.” 

The conversation is cut short by Pepper entering the offices. 

“Rhodes, with me please?” 

“Of course,” he responds. 

For a few moments, there’s nothing but the click of Pepper’s heels and the steady thump of Rhodes’ work boots. 

“So. What’s going on, Ms. Potts?” 

“I need you to sign some NDAs.” 

“For?” 

“...you’ll find out.” 

- 

James is led to Tony’s personal work workshop, which is something incredibly fun to say twice as fast as you normally would. 

There is also something protruding from his chest, and Rhodes just stares. 

“So, is this like. A new thing?” 

“Relatively,” Tony says dryly. “I didn’t have it in college, safe to assume.” 

“I would’ve felt a bit like an idiot if you had had it and I failed to notice.” 

“Well, now you know. Pep, the paperwork?” 

Rhodes is slipped quite the stack of sheets, and is handed a pen that probably costs more than his pair of shoes. 

“So, what’s the reason for this?” 

"Well, you’re getting an NDA for this thing, and for a couple of other things,” Tony starts out. “I’m going to be letting you in on a secret that no one can find out about. And if they do find out, you are not going to like what I do to you.” 

“Noted.” 

“Meet me for dinner at seven,” Tony says. “Bring the car back, won’t you?” 

“Gladly, so long as you don’t call me Jamie.” 

“Not a nickname kinda guy?” 

“Not that nickname kinda guy,” he says with a wince. 

Tony smiles. 

“And Rhodey?” 

“I suppose I can’t petition for Jim?” 

“I know far too many ‘Jims’ in my lifetime, darling.” 

He doesn’t know how to feel about this, any of this. He doesn’t think his life is in danger, or else Pepper might have a sharper smile on her face like when she’s about to tear apart someone she doesn’t like. 

His boots make a steady rhythm on the floor as he exits, and he wonders if he should fill up the gas tank all the way as a courtesy. (When a man is richer than God, maybe, you ask a lot of questions.) 

-

James Rhodes, for once in his life, does not know what to wear. 

Usually, the nicest outfit he ever wore was a suit to his grandparents’ funerals, and then for church or any other event it was a polo shirt or a button-down and black pants with reasonably nice loafers. 

Tony Stark probably has on a suit that is more than a very nice, reasonably priced used car. Which is quite a lot, in Rhodey’s opinion. 

Oh god. He’s started thinking about himself with the nickname. 

He settles on a dark green button-down with no tie, and he drives the Ferrari about five miles under the speed limit and causes quite a bit of trouble for traffic. People honk. Someone in a lifted truck calls him a name that was really quite creative and unexpected. 

He arrives in one piece, which is a great deal. 

Tony is lounging in jeans and an old t-shirt, and Rhodey feels a bit guilty about his own outfit choice. 

“Sorry for the...shirt. Here are your keys.” 

“What’s wrong with your shirt? Looks great from where I’m laying,” Tony says, a hint of a grin on his face. 

“You want some pizza?” 

He relaxes slightly. 

Tony Stark is a very guarded man. His shoulders are tense even though he’s reclining as if he’s relaxing, and he’s looking at Rhodey with a look of curiosity. 

“So, why am I here?” Rhodey asks. “Besides pizza and returning car keys.” 

“We can get to that soon. For now, pizza. And talk with Pepper.” 

Pepper comes in, holding a wine bottle and balancing three wine glasses expertly in the other hand. 

She has to be a magician or a goddess or something. There’s no way someone can be that grateful. She also looks like a model in simple red shorts and an over-sized t-shirt advertising some old running event. 

“I see you forgot to tell him the dress code,” Pepper says. “You want a different shirt, Rhodes? It’ll be easier for later.” 

“If I could,” he says, slowly. “What’s it for?”

“Green not your color?” Tony asks, eyebrows raised.

“No, but button-downs aren’t my favorite.” 

He eats a piece of pizza and makes small-talk about pizza toppings. Tony loves pepperoni and absolutely hates Canadian bacon. 

“It is ham, call it what it is, and then never put it on pizza again,” he whines. 

Rhodey smiles. 

“I still stand by green bell peppers being the worst.” 

“Have you ever had good pizza?” Tony asks. “I don’t think you have, otherwise you wouldn’t be saying those things.” 

Pepper chucks a t-shirt at Rhodey. 

“It might fit a bit tight, but it should be fine.” 

“What exactly is this for?” 

Tony turns away as Rhodey changes into the shirt. He looks again when it’s all on, and Rhodey’s shifting a bit. It is a bit tight, but not bad. 

Tony is staring. 

Rhodey does not notice this, because sometimes Rhodey is very bad at observations. 

“Come with me,” Tony says. “I’m about to show you what will be, I think, the world-changing thing.” 

“A thing?” 

“A thing,” Tony says with a smile. “My legacy.” 

Inside is a treasure trove of toys and machines and Rhodey can see Dum-E, the robot that had been submitted to a robotics contest at MIT. He didn’t know he was still around. 

And then, the opus magnum of it all: 

(At least, Rhodey thinks.) 

“This is a flyable suit of armor,” Tony says. “And I need to make an offer to you.” 

Rhodey turns, looks at him. 

Tony breathes in, breathes out. 

“My father’s legacy was building weapons for the war, helping out wherever he could. He’s been hailed as a hero for years, and I was expected to fill his shoes. And I tried, I really did.” His face hardens as he looks down at the blue light emanating from his chest. 

“My attempt at becoming my father was perhaps the worst thing I’ve ever done, because it resulted in innocent lives being lost and my own ignorance to become someone I should never have been in the first place. This? This is the answer to it all.” 

“And what are you hoping to get out of me?” Rhodey asks. 

“Flying lessons.” 

“Flying lessons,” Rhodey deadpans. “You just built a knight-in-armor with jets or whatever, and you want me to give you flying lessons.” 

“Well, it’d be helpful,” Tony says. “You nearly went into the Air Force. You have to know more than most.” 

“Only sometimes.” 

“Better than never,” Tony says. 

“Why me?” Rhodey asks. “You could’ve asked anyone with military clearance or someone that knows you better.” 

“You never once questioned me in college,” Tony says simply. 

Rhodey stares. 

“That’s your reasoning?” 

“The reason why I’m his PA is because I didn’t bullshit on wrong answers, and Happy--his driver--got hired because he liked him more than other people,” Pepper says. “He has good intuition.” 

Rhodey takes another look at Tony. 

He looks determined. 

And he looks like he knows what he wants to do, and he’s going to make his own path. 

Rhodey can’t lie. He can’t say he doesn’t want to be there for that. He can’t lie and say he isn’t itching to get a look at the suit design, see where improvements can be made. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“So,” he starts, grinning, “When do I get my own suit? Can’t let you have all the fun.” 

Tony cracks a grin. 

“Let’s just try this one out first, pilot.” 

Rhodey grins, looking at the progress. Tony grins back, just as wide. 

“Well,” Rhodey says, nearly giddy. “Let’s start the future.” 

[wickedbarnes]

m o n s t e r.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

prompt: ransom absolutely hates being rejected. he loathes it, it wounds his ego. so when he finds out that you weren't interested in him, the sheer determination of having you slowly turned into an unhealthy obsession.

trigger warnings: smut. non-con. dubcon. drugging. blackmailing. dark!ransom. do NOT read if any of these make you uncomfortable. 18+ readers ONLY.

note: i'm sorry if the smut may not be that good. i promise i'm trying to improve my smut writing skills :(

Ransom was the type of man who always gets what he wants one way or another. He wasn't the type to back down from a challenge nor was he the type to lose. He always makes sure he wins at the end. For him, nothing tasted so sweet than to have things go his way. He was that type of man and he was proud to admit that.

If he wanted a new car, he'd get it. If he wanted to party on the other side of the goddamn world, he'd book a ticket in a blink of an eye. If he wanted to fuck a girl or two, he'd get them on his knees in an instant. Ransom was a man who had everything. Power, wealth, good looks, you name it.

Being a Thrombey had its perks after all despite how much he dislikes his family.

But of course, there was this... unfortunate fact that not everything went his way. And he realized this the moment he laid eyes on the newest maid inside his grandfather, Harlan's mansion.

Y/N is what they called you. You were only working part-time as a means of earning money while you studied at college. It won't be long 'till you graduated so the student loans that you had needed to be paid and Harlan was generous and kind enough to pay you well.

Ransom took note of how full of life you were. Your eyes held some sort of innocence and purity in them. In fact, he'd be surprised if he ever found out you weren't a virgin. You seemed like the type that had never been properly touched by a man before. Either that, or you just hid that secret so well.

You greeted everyone kindly with a smile on your face and Ransom was sure everyone would be doting on you in no time. But when your doe eyes had fell on him, he saw the hesitation in them. But you quickly masked it with a faint smile, not quite as bright as the one that you gave to the others.

"Welcome back, Hugh." You'd say. And dare say, Ransom was impressed that you already knew he preferred that he was called Hugh by the helpers.

And you did. The first time you were hired, Marta and Fran were kind enough to show you around and taught you how things worked around here, even showed you how to properly serve Harlan's family members. However, it was Marta who told you about Hugh. You could remember her telling you to strictly steer clear from him and that whatever you did, you will only refer to him as Hugh.

And you, being the obedient employee that you are, you weren't planning on causing trouble and made sure to make mental notes of what she said.

So far, you were doing great. You were confused however, as to why she'd tell you to avoid him but when you saw how he treated his family members and the helpers that served him, you instantly understood why you needed to do so.

An asshole.

That's what Ransom Drysdale was.

Days passed during their visit to the mansion, you found yourself trying to stop yourself from giving Ransom a piece of your mind. You just couldn't handle rude people. They never settled well with you. And as quiet and bashful as you were most of the time, you had quite the mouth on you when someone deserves to be taught a lesson.

But by extension, Ransom was kind of your employer. If you upset him, there was no way in hell he wouldn't tell his grandfather. And you didn't want to disappoint Harlan now that he had done so much for you.

So instead, you kept your mouth shut and just continued to do your job.

But your reactions didn't go unnoticed by the cold-hearted playboy. He knew you disliked him. And in a way, he found it amusing. It wasn't the first time he heard of people not being quite fond of him. Most of the time, he didn't care. But with you, it somehow makes him chuckle.

In all honesty, he found you adorable trying to suppress what you wanted to say to him whenever he talked shit to his family or to Fran or Marta. He saw how you'd scowl and walk away from the scene just so you wouldn't burst and make you put him in his place if that's even possible. As if he'd let anyone dominate him.

It started out small, really. He had woken up early and found you wiping the windows clean. You wiped the sweat that was forming on your forehead as Ransom went downstairs, making his presence known. You turned around and saw him smiling softly at you.

"Good morning, Y/N." He greeted you and to say you weren't quite taken aback would be a lie. But you weren't rude like Ransom and he knows that. So instead of ignoring him, you forced a smile back and slowly brushed passed him to make your way to the laundry room. But not before you greeted him back.

"Good morning, Hugh." You'd say. And just like that, you were out of his grasp.

After that exchange, you'd find Ransom out in the garden with you as you watered the plants, in the kitchen where you'd help prepare food, in the laundry room where you tried to clean everyone's dirty clothes. He was there, trying to start up a conversation with you. But all of which you gave such limited answers to.

You didn't want to indulge him of trying to get to know you. You knew better than to let your guard down with men like Ransom. He was the kind of man that your mother had warned about. And you knew better than to be fooled by him.

Your headstrong personality despite your shyness and innocence showed through whenever you'd politely tell Ransom to leave you be. And that surprised him a lot.

Because no one had been able to tell him to leave them alone. When it came to women, they would lunge themselves and kneel down at Ransom's feet, worshipping him as if he were God in the flesh. They would do all that just to get a taste of the infamous Thrombey Golden Boy. But you, you had asked him to leave you be.

"I'm working, Hugh. And I would gladly appreciate it if you don't distract me. I'd like to finish early I still have homework to finish." You'd say as you busied yourself by cleaning one of the guest rooms that was bigger than your apartment itself.

Ransom stood there silently and you worried for a moment as to why he hadn't said anything. Turning around to look at him, you saw him frozen on his spot but soon enough, he nodded his head briskly and left you in the room without a word.

But if he was being honest, what you said had offended him so much. That was the closest thing to "No" that he had ever received from a woman. And it drove him fucking crazy.

Oh but no, he wasn't going to give up. You were just playing hard to get that's all. Women love a good chase. And you were simply not going through your senses. Ransom was confident that soon enough, you'd realize just how lucky you are that he was even bothering on paying attention and pouring his time on a maid like you.

He could have any girl he wanted. Models, cheerleaders, business women, fucking porn stars and yet he was focusing on you. Sometimes Ransom forgets why he was even wasting his time but then he remembers that he doesn't take no for an answer.

You were beautiful, he admits that. You weren't a model nor were you an actress but you were beautiful nonetheless. Ransom was sure that you could turn heads whenever you walk in public. That was one of the reason why he seemed so hooked up on you.

But another was that you were unlike any woman he has met before. You were innocent but you weren't an idiot. He could see fire in your eyes and he sensed that you were the kind of woman that would easily carry herself. You didn't need a man by your side to help you. In fact, you didn't even need a man to make you happy.

And that kind of a whole new thing to Ransom. You were like the fresh apple in the forbidden tree. So ripe for the taking You were like a breath of fresh air to him. All the other women he had been with, they all seemed to want to depend on him. They all seemed as if they couldn't even stand on their own two feet.

But that wasn't you.

And Ransom realized you weren't playing hard to get. The real problem was that you weren't interested in him at all. It took him days to realize that. Days of silently persuading you to at least pay attention to him. Days of silently hoping you would fall into his trap just like all those girls he trapped back then. But no, it didn't work on you.

No matter how much he pretended to be nice, no matter how much he had tried to make a conversation with you, even trying to mellow down his attitude towards his family and the helpers, he just didn't stand a chance.

And that. Drove. Him. Insane.

Ransom couldn't have this, no. He had to have you. It wasn't something he wanted to do. It was something he needed to do. It was as if having you was something that his life depended on it. He needed to take you. Stake his claim and make you his. He had never wanted to claim someone so much as he did with you. You had that effect on him now.

All because you refused to let him have you.

The more you refused, the more he craved you. The more he got addicted. The more he got obsessed at the thought of finally having you writhing underneath him.

But that was just that, a thought. An imagination for him. A sick dream of his that made him wake up with a raging boner that pushed him to stroke his own throbbing member but not before he moans out your name from his lips.

That was, until it finally turned into reality.

The Thrombeys had thrown a little get together and almost all of them got drunk. Thankfully, you didn't have class tomorrow so you didn't mind staying in so late. You can just call a cab or stay in the maid quarters until you can go home. It was also your day off the next day anyways.

The wealthy family had finally retrieved to their respective rooms leaving you to clean up all the empty glasses and liquor bottles that were strewn all over the table. The Thrombeys really do get roudy when they're drunk.

Fran had to tend to Harlan because of Marta's absence. According to her, she had important matters to attend to and that left you with the duty and washing these glasses and putting them away.

You were finally finished with the task when you turned around and jumped when you saw Ransom leaning in against the doorway with a faint smile on his face.

"Jesus, Hugh, you scared me." You'd say, putting your hand over your chest making him chuckle as you walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room where you began to tidy up the table again.

"I told you, you can call me Ransom." He replied but you just sighed in response, refusing to call him that, not wanting to give him what he wants no matter how small.

"You should be in bed." You said already knowing he'd notice the change in the subject.

"So should you but here you are cleaning." Ransom walked over to you and placed a glass of champagne in front of you while another was in his hand.

"What's this?"

"Champagne." He answered as if you didn't know what was in front of you.

"I know but why are you giving it to me?"

Ransom let out a breath and traced the rim of the glass with his calloused fingers.

"You'd been working nonstop today, I thought you should treat yourself somehow."

You sighed, "Hugh, I can't take this. I can't drink while I'm working. Plus, it'd be inappropriate of me to drink with my employer's grandson."

"Oh, come on, Y/N. It's just one glass, it won't hurt. My grandfather even offered you some earlier. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you drank one right now." He picked up the glass and pushed yours into your hands so you had no choice but to grab it or else, the glass would break and the drink would spill.

"Come on, just one drink. I promise it won't be that bad. And then I'll leave you alone to rest." Ransom smiled down at you and your gaze averted back and forth to him and the glass of champage in your hands.

Maybe one drink wouldn't hurt, right?

"Ugh, fine. Just one though, that's it." You replied, finally giving in and Ransom had to bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep himself from smiling too wide from what he heard.

He raised his glass to you with a smirk on his face, "To working hard and paying student loans."

You rolled your eyes at him but grinned at his words before you clinked your glass with his.

"To working hard and paying student loans." You said before you took a big chug of your drink, finishing it in one go and you had completely missed the way Ransom had looked down at you with a devilish look in his eyes as he drank his champagne the same time as you did.

You placed down your glass on the table and quietly thanked him for the drink. You walked passed him but Ransom stayed at his spot and finished his champagne and as if he timed it perfectly, he heard a thud on a floor that caused him to smirk in a sinister way.

The drug worked fast just like he knew it would. Usually it would take time but he didn't have the patience for that so he doubled the dosage. Ransom grabbed both your empty glasses and washed it neatly before he put it in the dishwasher.

He didn't want to leave any trace of evidence after all. But it wasn't like you were gonna tell anybody anyway.

Ransom came back to the dining room and gently picked you up in his big arms bridal style, making you look like a damsel in distress who just got rescued by a knight in shining armor. Except, it wasn't like that at all.

He quietly made his way upstairs, looking down at your face every once in a while. Grinning at how adorable you looked while you were unconscious in his arms.

Soon enough, Ransom had successfully walked into his room and placed you down on the bed gently. He walked by the door once again and made sure it was locked before he made his way to your sleeping figure once again and took his time to just admire your features.

He stroked your cheek gently as he took his time to appreciate your gorgeous body that was still clad in your clothing. And Ransom wanted nothing more than to rip everything off of you but he knew he had to wait until you woke up.

So instead, he pulled away and took his time by taking a bath.

Meanwhile, your eyelids were starting to flutter open, your body felt heavy and you couldn't even bring to at least move your fingers. God, what happened?

When your vision finally adjusted, you realized that you weren't in your apartment nor were you in the maid quarters. Where were you? Did you pass out? How'd you pass out?

But then you remembered. You were cleaning the dining room when Ransom came in and offered you champagne. And then you finally agreed to take a sip. After that, you passed out. Realization hit you like a truck and you willed yourself to at least sit up. It took some time and your body felt like jello as you did. As if every limb was asleep.

It was then that you realized that you were in Ransom's room. Why'd he take you here? Did he help you when you passed out? Why did you even pass out in the first place? Was it because you were exhausted? Or was it-

"Oh, you're awake." Ransom's voice caught your attention and you turned to see him walking out of the bathroom, his chest damp from taking a bath as droplets of water trickled down to his torso. He was only wearing a towel around his hips to at least hide his modesty.

You weren't blind to the fact that Ransom was indeed a handsome man. But looks didn't matter to you if the person was a complete dick. So you groaned and looked away, rubbing your temple as your head pounded quite a bit.

Ransom didn't like your reaction at all. Usually, women would gasp or at least their jaw would drop upon seeing him half naked in front of them. But you, you looked away. You didn't even blush. Nor did you at least stare at him.

Did you not find him attractive at all? No, that's not it. Maybe you were just distracted by the drug he induced inside your drink. You were just waking up from it after all.

"What happened, Hugh? How'd I pass out? I don't remember having a drink too many." You'd ask and carefully placed your legs down onto the floor as you now sat on the edge of the bed, not quite noticing how your skirt had risen up to the middle of your thighs.

"You didn't, yeah. Thankfully my dosage was right to just knock you out and not send you into a coma." He answered nonchalantly and your head shot up as you looked at him confused.

"Dosage? W-What are you talking about?"

Ransom rolled his eyes and slowly made his way over to you and you found yourself scooting further away from him while gripping onto the blanket right next to you.

You never noticed just how big he was compared to you. Not until now when he looked as if he was stalking his prey and he was the predator.

"You're really pretty, Y/N, you know that, right?" Ransom stood in front of you, his crotch leveling with your face but you were somehow thankful that he put his finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to look at him.

"What are you doing, Hugh?" You asked him, your voice shaking quite a bit now as fear began to course through your veins. You knew Ransom had his moments and he had them a lot. But never did you realize he would get so... so aggressive. You were scared to say the least. Because then you never realized just how dangerous Ransom Drysdale could be until now.

"What am I doing? Oh, baby, I think I should be asking you that. You know, all this wouldn't have happened if you just spared a glance at me, you know? You walk around here looking all innocent with your head held high as if you didn't want my head in between those precious thighs of yours."

Your eyes widened, "W-What? What're you- Hugh, that's ridi-"

"Call me Ransom." He said, cutting you off as he gripped your jaw with his large hands, "God, do you even realize how much I fucking hate it when you call me Hugh?"

"But didn't you prefer the help calling you that?" You backfired but your voice seemed so weak. You wanted so bad to break away from him but you were afraid of what might happen if you did.

Was he armed? Would he hurt you? Would he... no, Ransom wouldn't do that, would he?

Would he?

"I do. But I can't let my best girl call me Hugh it... it really gets on my nerves, Y/N. Sometimes I think you're doing it on purpose. Just like how you haven't given into me all this time that I've been here. Tell me, were you playing hard to get? Is that what this is, you love the game of cat and mouse? You love the chase, hm?"

You were so confused. Why was he so round up? Why did he seem so angry? And what the hell did he mean by playing hard to get? Your thoughts were cut short when Ransom held your face harshly in his hands, looking down at you with dark eyes instead of his usual azure colored orbs.

This was a completely different Ransom. Hell, was this the real Ransom all along? Predatory and dangerous?

"I'm fucking asking you a question here, baby, I expect a fucking answer from you." His voice was deep, husky and it only sent shivers down your spine because of how scared you were right now.

"I don't understand what's going on, Hugh." You whimpered as your hands slightly began to shake on your lap, "I don't know why I'm here or what you mean by playing hard to get, I'm not playing hard to get, I'm not playing any games with you I was just doing my job."

Tears began to cascade down your cheeks and Ransom's face softened a bit. But he was shocked when he felt as if he was guilty for making you cry. He had made many women cry but he never felt any ounce of guilt before. Why'd he feel it when it comes to you?

Ransom shushed and cooed at you as he gently wiped your tears away with his thumb.

"Don't cry, doll. Well, as much as you look pretty when you cry, I'd prefer it if you didn't." He smiled before he crouched down in front of you.

"I just don't understand, Y/N. I did everything I could. I tried to act nice, I tried to help you around with your chores even if you'd tell me countless of times that you didn't need my help, I even convinced my grandfather to give you a raise because of how hardworking you are. Why did you think you were getting paid more than the other helpers around here, huh? I did all that and all you do to repay me was to pull away? That's quite rude, baby." He tutted and began to trace random patterns onto your thighs which made jump and push his hand away.

"See now, that's what I was fucking talking about. You always push me away. No matter what I do, no matter what tricks I have up my sleeve, you break away and dare I say I'm starting to lose my patience here."

He sighed and put his hand back on your thigh and you let out a sob as you couldn't push him away now. Your body still felt like jello you could hardly move your limbs properly. And you knew that if you break away, Hugh would catch you, it would be useless.

"I did all that I could to lure you in, to let you fall into my charms and let me have you but no, I guess all of that didn't work. Do you realize just how many women would kill to be in your place, hm? How they'd pay you millions of money just so they could replace you? And yet here you are, being so ungrateful. But I commend you, Y/N. You're the first woman to ever reject my advances. And as much as I fucking hated it, I'm impressed."

You brows furrowed as you finally put two in two together. That was all it was? All of this because you had wounded his large fucking ego? The fear on your face was replaced with anger and the fact that Ransom was looking at you amusingly didn't help at all.

"That was all this, Hugh? All of this, all the drugging that you did to me, all those pretentious acts that you pulled was all just because you could get me to sleep with you? All because you can't take no for answer? How fucking desperate and idiotic can you be?" You spat but it all happened so fast when Ransom suddenly slapped you across the face causing your head to whip up to the side.

His eyes widened as you turned back to look at him, your cheek now sporting a red mark. You were shocked. But you quickly gathered your composure and uttered words that caused Ransom to see nothing but red.

"I'd return the slap if I even took you as a man, Ransom." Ransom. You finally uttered Ransom from your lips. He should be happy you finally called him that. But his name accompanied by those words made something in him snap.

Ransom pushed you down on the bed and placed himself in between your thighs as his hand wrapped around your throat but not enough to choke you just tight enough to instill fear back in your body. Your skirt hiked up and Ransom smirked at the sight of your white cotton panties fully in display for him now.

Even your undergarments were as innocent as you.

"I've had enough, Y/N. You really pushed my limits now. Didn't your mother taught you how to respect your superiors, hm?" His hands rubbed your thigh up and down and before you could even reply, he quickly yanked down your skirt causing you to shriek but Ransom quickly silenced you as he put his large hand over your mouth.

"You should know better than to fight, doll. Make this easier for the both of us, will you? You have no idea how much I fucking hate it when someone tells me no. Especially when it's coming from you." Ransom brushed his fingers against your core causing you to jump a bit and squirm in his arms but held you firmly in place causing you to still down on the bed.

You eyes widened as you felt Ransom pushing your panties to the side before you felt his finger sliding up and down against your folds. Although you had masturbated quite a number of times, you were a virgin. You were untouched and made a promise to yourself to give your virginity to a man that loves you just as much as you loved him. Who deserves to have every part of you.

But instead, it was going to be forcefully taken away from you by Ransom. The grandson of your employer. The Thrombey Golden Boy. The devil in the flesh.

Your eyes were wide and filled with fear and Ransom liked that. He liked how powerless you were compared to him. He liked having the control he has on you now.

Slowly, he took his hand off your mouth but not before he gave you a warning.

"If you ever scream for help or even wake anybody up inside this goddamn mansion, I'll be sure to ruin your life and we don't want that, do we?" You instinctively shake your head no and Ransom seemed satisfied by your response.

"And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll find out. And when I do, you'll be unemployed in the blink of an eye. Your degree gone in a snap. In case you didn't know, we Drysdales are stakeholders at your school. I can easily demand to get you expelled. And if you make me unhappy, I'll even fabricate a story about you. That's not something you want to happen, right?"

You couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. And it doesn't seem so real. How could Ransom be so cruel? Did the vanity that was coursing through his veins finally fucked his head up? Or was he always like this? Always craved for power and control?

Your questions remained unanswered while you managed to give Ransom another meekly nod causing him to smirk.

"Good girl. See, you're learning. And good girls deserve a reward." You felt his fingers rubbing circles on your clit. You gasped and shook your head as if you silently told your body not to give into the pleasure he was forcing on you.

Your slit began to get slippery and Ransom cooed at how embarrassed you seem when you started to get his fingers all soaking wet.

"No need to be embarrassed, baby, it's just me. I'll take care of you." Tears streamed down your face causing your cheeks to get all blotchy but even then, Ransom still wouldn't budge. In fact, he found you beautiful when you cried. It made you look more innocent and pure. As if you needed to be dependent on him.

"You're getting so wet, sweetheart. You don't mind if I slip a finger in, do you?" Ransom didn't even give you anytime to answer before he slipped a finger inside your tight hole. You hated how a soft moan had escaped your mouth when he pushed it in.

"Oh, that's it, Y/N. Those are the noises I want to hear from you." Ransom pumped his finger in and out of your pussy and your cheeks heat up when you heard the sound of your own slick pussy. No, no, it shouldn't feel this good.

Your mind and body were at war. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away and scream for help but your body writhing against his hand as if you were begging him for more even if that wasn't the case.

Ransom looked at his glistening hand that was soaked with your juices and it only made his cock throb against the towel that was wrapped around his waist. Pulling his fingers away, you thought it was over until he ripped your panties off of you along with your blouse leaving you in nothing but your white laced bra.

You watched as Ransom licked his lips hungrily at you and it seemed as if the bra that was covering your breasts bothered him. So much so that he roughly pulled the straps down and reached behind you to unhook them with ease letting your tits be exposed to him.

You lifted your arms up to cover your chest while you pressed your thighs together but Ransom growled disapprovingly. He forced your legs open again and pinned your arms above your head with his hand as he stared down at you with his lust clouded eyes.

"Are you going to fucking behave or do you want to do this the hard way?" He spat and you felt so small as a quiet sob emitted from your lips while you stayed still.

"Good girl." Ransom whispered as he pressed a kiss onto your lips before pulling away.

"I think it's time I have a taste of you, baby. I hope you're as sweet as you look." Ransom spread your legs open and positioned his face in between your thighs. The towel that was wrapped around his waist had finally let loose and fell onto the wooden floor, letting his cock spring free.

Ransom gently blew on your pussy causing you to flinch. You lifted your head and shook your head at him.

"P-Please, Ransom... let me go, I won't tell anyone I just- Ransom!" You gasped when you felt his tongue laying flat on your cunt before he glided it across your clit. You propped yourself on your elbows and shook your head vigorously at him but Ransom held your legs in place, keeping them apart with his strong hands.

"Yeah, fucking watch me eat your pussy, baby." Ransom would say before he started to lap up your juices and even going as far as to tease your hole with his tongue by pushing it in and out of you before he paid attention to your throbbing clit.

You should've looked away. Looked somewhere else rather than the man that was in between your legs, tongue shoved up your pussy. But you can't. He looked so erotic while he sucked on your sensitive little bud. Is this how it feels to get eaten out by a man?

"Don't fight it, baby, just give in." Ransom would tell you as his fingers slid up and down your wet folds, getting them all lubed up before he pushed it up inside your pussy.

A whorish moan escaped your lips and you quickly put your hand up against your mouth to at least muffle the noises you weren't supposed to be making.

You hated this so much. You hated it because you were giving in. You hated it because it felt so damn good. You hated it because you found yourself wanting more.

You didn't plan on it but it was as if your body has gone on autopilot when you hips began to grind up against Ransom's mouth and fingers. Your hands finding its way to tangle themselves onto Ransom's hair.

Sinful moans escaped your mouth and Ransom moaned against your pussy as it was music to his ears. You tasted so sweet on his tongue and it only drove him crazier than he already was for you.

His personal little peach.

Ransom picked up the pace and curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot repeatedly while he was to busy sucking and licking on your clit. It was too much, it felt too good. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as you felt the familiar pleasure boiling up in the pit of your stomach.

You were close.

"Fuck, baby, I can feel you getting close." Ransom moaned against your soaking wet pussy. You were sure his chin was glistening with your juices.

"No, no, no..." You chanted and shook your head as if you remembered that you weren't supposed to like this at all.

"Yes, yes, come on, baby. I know you wanna cum for me. Do it. Fucking do it." Ransom encouraged you and fingerfucked you harder as he pulled away, his thumb now rubbing circles on your clit in a fast pace.

He wanted to see you come undone for him.

"Do it, Peaches, do it. Be a good girl and cum for me." He ordered you and you were far too gone to tell yourself no.

"R-Ransom!" You turned your head to the side and bit down on the pillow that was right next to you to muffle your screams. You body convulsed underneath Ransom's as you came hard on his fingers. Your legs shook as avalanche of tears streamed down your face due to shame and the pleasure you felt.

Ransom was speechless. It was as if you were being possessed by a demon. You were shaking underneath him, moaning his name as if it was a prayer you had memorized. No one had came this hard for him. No one had been so wet for him before. It was you. It was all you.

He pulled his fingers away and as much as he wanted to lick it clean, he wanted to see how you'd look while you were sucking on something.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked up at Ransom when you felt his weight on your body. He held his soaking fingers against your lips with one demand for you.

"Suck." And even you didn't want to, you found yourself doing what you were told. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and sucked your juices clean off his fingers.

You knew you should've looked away. You knew you should've pulled away but instead, you looked deep into his eyes and swirled your tongue around his fingers, giving him a sneak peek on what you'd look like if you were to suck his cock.

Ransom was taken by surprise. You're naturally a tease. But as much as he wanted to let you suck on his cock, he knew he didn't have the patience for that yet. Instead, he positioned himself on the bed and threw your leg over his shoulder. Your eyes widened as you shook your head began to move away from him but Ransom only pulled back to where you were by your ankles.

"Don't misbehave now, Y/N, you were doing so good." His voice was dark, indicating how he disliked that you pulled away.

"Ransom, you don't understand, I'm inexperienced. Very different from the girls you've fucked, I... Please, let me go, you already made me cum." You pleaded but you could tell on Ransom's face that he wasn't having it.

"Please, Ransom... I'm a virgin, I-"

"You're a what?" Ransom asked, completely cutting you off.

"I'm a virgin." You repeated yourself, confident that Ransom would change his mind about all this once he finds out that you had no experience with sex.

But your confidence went as quickly as it came.

Ransom's face lit up as he leaned down to capture your lips in his, kissing you passionately. You wanted to pull away but he held your face in place as if he sensed you'd be doing exactly that.

Pulling away, Ransom smirked at you.

"How much more innocent can you be?" And with that, he threw your leg over his shoulder and began to line his cock up against your entrance after he slid it up and down to use your juices as lube.

"Ransom, no, it's not gonna fit- Ahh!" You shrieked and closed your eyes shut as the stinging pain shot throughout your body. You whimpered as Ransom cooed at you while he gently pushed his thick length inside your virgin hole.

He was stretching you out so much it felt endless. You let out a helpless sob when he finally bottomed out, his cock now fully deep inside of you. Ransom cupped your face and peppered kisses on your cheek and lips as if that would help diminish the pain you're in.

"You're so tight, Peaches, you fucking know that?" He groaned and stayed still as if any movement would cause him to spill his cum inside you.

"Ransom, please, I don't want this..." You pleaded yet again but Ransom's eyes darkened as he smirked down at you.

"You will." And with that, he began to thrust back and forth into you, his cock pumping in and out of your tight cunt. You gasped and expected there would be pain but there was none. Pleasure started to overtake your body once again and you realized you had finally adjusted to Ransom's length.

You shook your head, praying to whatever deity there was that existed to make this all stop. It shouldn't feel good, it shouldn't. But your body told you otherwise.

Ransom groaned and looked down to watch his cock go in and out of your cunt. The sight was mouthwatering. He remembered how he just dreamt about this but now it was real. And it was better than he imagined.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're gripping me like a vice. Ruining other bitches for me." He moaned and threw his head back, his mouth parted open as his brows furrowed.

Your breathing became uneven and you found yourself meeting Ransom's thrusts causing him to push deeper inside of you, making him hit your g-spot repeatedly. Sinful moans escaped your lips and you could no longer control what your body desperately needed.

By the look of how desperate you were to chase your own orgasm, Ransom was certain he has you now. He was certain that he had you wrapped around his finger. He was certain that you're all his.

"R-Ransom..."

"I know, baby, I know. Just a little longer, Peaches." He fastened his pace and licked his thumb before he rubbed your throbbing clit while he pounded your cunt. The action made you arch your back and your moans to get louder and you quickly put your hand over your mouth, not wanting to wake anyone up.

Either you didn't want to get caught and make Ransom stop or you just didn't want to face the consequences that he gave you if you got too noisy and alarmed everyone in the house.

"R-Ransom, I'm close, I'm-"

"Me too, baby, fuck! Oh God, I'm gonna fill your pussy up." He groaned and with one final thrust, he shoved his cock so deep up your pussy that you couldn't help but spasm around him once again, biting his shoulder as you screamed out in pleasure as you came hard.

"Holy shit, Y/N..." Ransom moaned as he felt you milking his cock up completely. You felt him shoot load after load of his cum while you shook underneath him.

When Ransom slowly pulled away, you couldn't help but cry silently as a sob escaped your lips. He used you. He used you for his own pleasure and you let him. You let him. And there was nothing you could do.

Ransom looked at you with pity. He knew you were still confused. Soon enough, you were going to thank him for the things he's done to and for you. He gently placed your body on the other side of the bed before he lied down and placed the duvet over your bodies.

"You did so good, Y/N. I'm proud of you. See? I told you it'd be easy if you just gave in." He smiled fondly at you and gently wiped the tear that slipped down from your eyes.

"You had me. You used me like a piece of fucking meat. Now will you let me go?" Your question made Ransom laugh out loud. It was rare for women to make him and somehow, you did it. You were truly full of surprises.

"Let you go? Oh no, Peaches, I think you're mistaken." His smile turned into a menacing one as fear began to spark up inside your body once again as he traced your bare shoulders with your fingers.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time. This is the longest chase I've done. And now that I have you, I don't think I'll ever let you go. Plus, you're quite the fighter. You were quite the challenge and I like that. From here on out, you're mine, do you understand?" Ransom gently pulled the blanket off your body as the cool breeze of air hit your skin. His fingers traced your erect nipples before his hand squeezed your breasts a bit.

"You." He pulled the blanket off of him.

"Are." Ransom spread your legs again and placed himself in between them.

"Mine." He whispered against your neck before he pushed his hardening cock back inside you again.

A monster.

That's what Ransom Drysdale was.

[crstapor]

Terror White

“You’re either with us or against us.” - George W. Bush


1.

On January 6th, 2021, domestic terrorists invaded the Capital Building in an act of political insurrection. Their intent was to overthrow the will of the people by preventing certification of a free and fair democratic election. They did so at the behest of their political leader (who was impeached a second time for inciting this gross transgression of his oath of office), other voices in their party - the so-called GOP - and talking head agitators inhabiting the far-right media echo chamber. Nearly to a man, a woman, a they, each of these terrorists were white.

Images of ‘good old boys’ traipsing down the halls of the people’s house waving confederate battle flags, kicking feet up on the Speaker’s desk, walking off with public property or smearing their shit on the floors pervaded the internet. These images provided by the villains themselves, posted shamelessly to social media profiles.

As a result of this treasonous, insulting, juvenile, despicable, and ultimately futile effort five people died. Even still, hours after the fact, a majority of members of the so-called GOP voted in accordance with the will of these terrorists. They voted to overturn the results of a free and fair election in the world’s oldest modern democracy. They did so because they believed there were serious ‘concerns’ (‘concerns’, let’s be clear, that started with them and like the Ouroboros, ended up with the confusing, if unhygienic, phenomenon of not knowing where their mouths or assholes ended or began) with the 2020 presidential election. After over 60 court cases arguing that point only one was ruled in their favor. None of the 50 States comprising our union found any evidence of wide-spread fraud. Indeed, a federal agency tasked with monitoring election security stated unequivocally that the presidential election of 2020 was one of the most secure in a generation.

And yet? There they were. Spouting conspiracy theories, assaulting police officers (those stalwart stewards of the ‘law & order’ they otherwise claim to love), brandishing spears and bearskins, stealing mail, leaving death threats to the Vice President, fundamentally acting the fool. A bunch of bullies let out of detention with rage and rebellion on their minds.

Let me be clear: each and every one of these terrorists should be hunted down by law enforcement and charged to the fullest extent of the law. They should then be prosecuted and the judges in each and every case should show or allow no mercy. These barbarians must never be allowed to storm the gates again.

Fine.

But that’s not the really interesting question here. The far-right has been producing assholes forever (one of the few things the ‘right’ is truly consistent at). What’s actually interesting is how these insurrectionists arrived at the conclusions they did. Which is to say; how did their ‘thinking’ bring them to this point.

2.

While it might be tempting for some on the left to see that last sentence as a joke, let’s remember we’re sitting at the adult table. These terrorists, being human, sharing our genetic code, are people - real, live, eating, shitting, fucking, anxious, sleeping, scared, afraid, terrified people - just like you and me. As much as it would be easier if we could see them as Uruk-hai instead of our brothers and sisters, sadly? That’s what they are. Family. Part of the Human Condition.

Though humans that are clearly very, very, very sick. My diagnosis? Mind Cancer. Let me explain, under the assumption my readers understand the difference between mind and brain. As such, I am not asserting that the terrorists are physically sick. From their pics and videos it’s clear many are - obesity, hypertension, anal retention - though that isn’t the point. It’s their mental programming, their minds, that have been infected. Infected with what?

Put simply? A disjointed ontological phenomenology obscured, obfuscated, and accelerated by persistently chaotic epistemological aberrations. Said plainly? Their ability to process reality has been impaired.

Why? Racial resentment, poor economic opportunities, an aversion to books and learning? Yes. All that. Plus? The internet, which has created a new Dark Ages.

Paradoxically, one built on light.

3.

Look. Self-interested demagogues intent on self-aggrandizement are nothing new. Nor are their ability to rally or rile a downtrodden populace. Sadly, demonizing the ‘other’ is also pretty par for the course in these scenarios. An old story, all told. What’s new this time is how it happens.

In a single second - count it out! One Mississippi - a beam, or photon of light moves 186,000 miles. Roughly seven times the circumference of the Earth. The new speed of hate. The internet, that modern marvel ushering in Humanity’s first truly post-scarcity resource, is built on light. Philosophers have for millennia wed knowledge with light. And now we all (well, those of us in the post-industrial world) carry a terminal connected to this internet in our pockets. A stunning marvel of human ingenuity. One would imagine that access to such a wellspring of knowledge and information would have a truly edifying affect on the Human Condition. Perhaps, in aggregate, or retrospect, it will. At the moment?

Yeah ...

At the moment it seems that the more access to information humans have the more they double down on tribal identities, wish fulfillment, instant gratification (read: porn), perceived slights, fantasy lands, Rick Astley videos, or the jibbering incoherent rantings of simple capitalists fomenting the fragile emotional states of low information individuals who feel they have no place in this world. This is a fundamentally devastating epistemological conundrum. Why? For centuries the barrier to the future was the amount of information, knowledge, you could access or process. Yet here and now? Here and now there might be too much access. Too much information. More so, the striking fact that our ability, as a species, writ large, to process or parse this information has not kept pace with the information at hand. A sad equation that inevitably leads to moments like 01/06/21.

4.

The Trump Terrorists of January 6th, 2021, weaponized the internet to facilitate their attempted coup. As did their ‘dear leader’ throughout his humiliating single term in office. In fact, it was the geometrical acceleration of connectivity and interconnectedness enabled via the web and its insanely capitalist platforms that allowed for their ‘movement’ to incubate and evolve. While it is true that neo-liberal policies advocating globalist economics and monetary policy are at the current root cause of most ills genuinely affecting rural, or poor, or uneducated MAGA-heads, it’s also true that apart from an Independent from Vermont no one in the political economy of the last couple decades gave much of a shit about these poor and dispossessed inheritors of old racial mythemes and toxic narratives of self-reliance. No one that is, other than their ‘dear leader’. Never mind he didn’t intend to ease their suffering in any material, or structural way. He talked about it. He tweeted about it. And then he gave them a little song and dance at the rallies. Breathtaking stuff.

However, it wasn’t just the performative act of playing ‘authoritarian’ that got them hot and bothered. No, it was at the same time the eternal need to belong to a group, the legitimate feeling of economic obsolescence, coupled with these new tools of information transmission. Tools that at once gave them powers unheralded and seemingly ensconced them in a protective shell, a perpetually larval manifestation of all their baser inclinations. A reactionary ‘safe space’ from which they could launch a thousand ships of intolerance and hate. What good is truth if you can’t weaponize it? What good are facts if you share them with everyone else?

And so we find ourselves revising Plato. There isn’t just one cave in which we are chained, kept from reality. There are multiple tunnels, alcoves, deeper caverns in which we might dwell. Furthermore, if lucky, there are different days, vistas, egresses in which we can escape from the confines of ignorance. Much like the lucky Mormons, it would seem the far-right believes there are plenty of planets in which ‘Truth’ can dwell. Never mind that multiplying ‘Truth’ in such a way doesn’t actually produce more truth.

In fact, it reduces ‘Truth’. Impoverishes it. Hollows it out.

Which is sad, really. For the major harm caused by these rebels isn’t to our democratic institutions, nor our mythological vision of our nature, nor that ever-loving economy - but to the very fabric that binds the social contract on which all the preceding rely.

That fabric being, specifically, a shared objective reality.

5.

How can we survive if we can’t agree on basic facts? Can a multi-racial, multi-cultural, representative democracy exist when a large percentage of the comprising citizens don’t believe in, or even acknowledge, that that’s actually what’s happening? Is White Supremacy so fundamentally a part of our nation’s DNA that the country can’t exist without it? If so, for those of us who vehemently oppose White Supremacy, the question might then be: is the country worth saving?

Most versions of Western Ethics indicate that violence is not the cure. Nor do I advocate such a position. At the same time I’m deeply troubled, because due their illness these actors are neither rational or coherent. Ergo, we can’t reason with them either. So what next?

To corral the revolutionary, if inchoate, spirit of these sick, fringe minds diseased as they are by hate, grievance, and digital oubliettes would any policy proposals be acceptable? Perhaps as fantastic an idea as the images from 01/06/21, what if the Federal Government decided to halt its obsequious sycophantry to corporate America and ‘elites’ and instead actually, seriously, emphatically reinvested in the heartland, in Main Street, in the working class? Wouldn’t it be ironic if a little more socialism was truly the cure these hatemongers require?

6.

Maybe we should step back and listen to the wisdom of George W. Bush.

Confronting what was at the time the most disheartening terror attack on the homeland, Bush made clear not all who could otherwise be lumped in with the terrorists were terrorists. In the same way that, yes, not all Trump voters are Trump Terrorists.

Even so. Bush made it clear you needed to pick a side.

With us - toward a diverse future in which the promise of the Founders is emboldened and expanded for all who live between our shores. Or against us - back to your stunted hovels and holes with all the other low information troglodytes you like to cosplay revolution with.  

Choose.

It’s your call. But choose quickly, because history is watching, and only one path moves toward the future.

C. R. Stapor Longmont, CO 01/16/21

[hockeysweetheart]

My thoughts while reading The ballad of song birds and Snakes...   ( I’ll be refering Coriolanus to Snow in this because I am not about to write that name who know how many times) ( Please note Many many spoilers ahead)

How  do I say these names... Flips through the book yeah I’m screwed.. 

Trigis is Snow’s Older Cousin Didn’t see that coming 

What’s this... Am I actually Feeling sorry and bad for snow... ( lets see how long this lasts for)

Point 2 seconds  a little upset you have to mentor Lucy gray from District 12 then your over it once she shows her vaule... 

Lucy Gray  wow you sure know how to make an entrence.  I like you... 

Is she the first winner from District 12?  

Did that really happen... 

Roses on the roof really... 

Okay  that was kinda sweet (  showing up to the train station with the rose) 

Wait what it’s not the luxury that is seen in the other books.They are treated like well zoo animals.  anywhere outside of the zoo ( before a certain point they are in handcuffs  also they are literally all in the same cage at the zoo and people can visit them too) ( Not fed/ mot trained basically they go into the arena as they look and wear the same clothes too)  (( I am doing this in one big point so then I don’t do like 50 points on this) 

No wonder there is a law  “No fighting with the other tributes before the games start”  

Who the actual **** is this Dean Guy... 

Okay thats sweet Snow is actually trying to make Lucy Stand a chance....  Whats this Snow is actual kinda sweet what are you  doing to me.. 

Sejanus Is feeding them too... 

Okay the Picnic was kinda sweet.. 

He knows Marcus... Oh wait I forgot hes from District 2 

Well that escalated Quickly... 

How didn’t these games get cancled...  I said this to myself about 10 times... 

Okay you did what to that girl because she told a lie...

Dr Gaul I have so many questions but frankly I am scared for your answer..

Okay Kids lets go on a field trip  where you will die in a few days.. 

What is this arena... 

Boom....  

How is this guy on the loose... 

Then I realized the games haven’t even started yet...

About the public humlationn really  you treated them bad enough... but now the dead... ughhh 

Okay Snow is being sweet again. Why am I blushing.. 

Okay I am convinced this Lucy Gray is related to Katniss somehow... 

SUGAR COOKIES PEETA MELLARK....

Okay that was sweet for Trigis to help out for the interview cleaning her dress and making sure lucy was washed up a bit... 

Is it that hard to find a gutair.... 

It’s not over until the Mockingjay sings... 

Lucy Grays Interview  wow.. BRAVO BRAVO..

Wait a second. Snow you didn’t just say that You own Lucy Gray.... Just because  her interview was amazing... and she’s a bigger shot then you... Takes a sip of a drink... Well I should of seen this  coming.. 

Okay its okay to let Lucy Gray cheat in the games But when Katniss pulls out those berries its like oh hell no... 

Now I see why they check the Tokens from home befroe they are approved for the arena.. 

She really kissed you and we were about to whitness a makeout session... ( I almost yelled get a room) 

Now the games are gonna beggin actually  I was like is this a false start..  

Oh its Happening...  

Whats the point of throwing Marcus pretty much dead in like that... 

Who is Lucky Flickerman  and this guy with the camera in there faces...

What in the actual were those Parachute gifts...  

Guess there are no trackers on them... 

How in the hell. Did  Sejanus get in the arena... Why are you making Snow go and get him... Grow some and get in there your self...  I just defended Snow whats wrong with me... 

Snow actually Killed a tribute... what the....

Why is guy from 11 Making a morgue.... 

Laughing a little  when other tributes grab the gifts 

Oh a little Jealous of Lucy Gray and her District partner 

Okay did I really just read the words STAR CROSSED LOVERS.. your killing me here..

OH wait.... Okay that was kinda sweet.. What the mentor for the male of District 12 did to save Lucy... 

Well that Alliance is over... 

Rat Poison.... 

District 11 your no fool... 

So let me get this you can only send gifts if you can see them where the hell are all the cameras... 

Really messing with the snakes so they don’t attack Lucy... ugh... so you can win the prize to pay your way... Pops another bottle  

Lucy Gray looks like this snake whisper.... 

This morgue is weird... 

I like my town with a little drop of Poison...  

How the hell did she Poison that pond... 

Well Lucy gray is the winner... ( As expected..) 

Oh shit now Snow is in trouble...  

And how in the hell he got approved to be a peacekeepr in district 12... 

Okay it is kinda sweet he is going after someone he loves...

Snow  one step in District 12.. Oh my god air nature get me outta here... Me rolls eyes.... 

Thank god  Sejanus is here. 

Are you are you coming to the tree... 

Snow sees one Mockingjay and is like Oh hell no...  Me Katniss Everdeen .... 

Maybe once he sees Lucy he will change   

The only Days free is Sunday .... 

The Hob really... 

trading  Sejanus Ma’s goods... 

Hmmm they are kinda looking like the peacekeepers from 12 around Katniss’s time... Kinda chill.. 

Okay Maude Ivory shes cute.. The Covey Love them.. 

When you think oh they are finally going to meet face to face again Bam... Billy Tate and Mayfair Lipp ruin it..  ‘

You really went to the bakery...  HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND.. 

During this point I thought Snow you have seen how food  doesn’t come by really good here....WHY HAVEN’T YOU FED THEM BETTER IN THE 65 DAMN YEARS.. .

Really  from the seam...  ( Starts to make a list of every possbile place that Belongs to Katniss Everdeen) 

Not only does Snow Find Lucy Gray in the medow ( Deep in the meadow) But with a goat too...    ( adds it to my list)   and shes Sing the song she wrote the hanging tree...  adds to my list....

And now they start making out/ Which basically almost ends up in make out session every single time they meet up..  ( Now i was okay with this since I am sucker for a love story)

Did Lucy Live in the same house as Katniss did....  

Snow also realized real fast how the Districts don’t watch the games too much...

Billy whats his last name and   Sejanus hmmm  Hiding a map but wait Snow saw it... That could of happened smoother...

Snow has this plan to Kill the mockingjay.... ( Sweetheart that didn’t work 65 years later).... 

They go to the lake in the woods on a sunday no less... damn 3 things to add oh my god Katniss everdeen list... 

Snow literally 2 seconds into the woods oh hell no... ROLLS EYES... 

Now your swimming in the lake and in the “house” Keeps writing down)...   and the Deep in the meadow song is sung... I am going to need a bigger piece of paper.. 

Finds Katniss plants... now at this point i am not surprised... 

Gets approval to Kill the Mockingjays because they care me BIG WOOF....

Trapping the jabberjays... why is snow so interested... Oh shit the scientist knows me.. 

Sees Lucy again at singing at the hobb but he has a little before the show if you know what I mean.. then he notices Sejanus  sneaks out ( which he clames he was going to the bathroom... which was  a lie) 

Maude Ivory is Wearing a buttercup dress... whats next Primrose  is gonna make an apperence... 

Snow really looking threw  Sejanus stuff... ( I was so like hes gonna take the money and run) 

Sejanus oh my dear Sejanus He played you like a fool ... He recorderd the whole damn thing... at least he cannot get worse then that... your kinda like the idiot in those movies that lays out the whole evil plot to someone to only 10 seconds later get caught for it....

What the actual BEEEP happened in that shed.. Please let this be the first and last gun Snow ever gets his hands on... 

The fact that Maude Ivory found the bodies is not okay... 

The gossip at the BASE is gold.. 

At least snow felt Guilt for his killings... 

are you are you coming to the tree 

Well  Sejanus Sorry to see you go..

Now a little make out session at the commarders party when the Covey sings...  She really wrote a song for him okay thats kinda sweet.. 

Now  Lucy asks Snow to run away with her.... ( Writes this down) And he says yes... he literally didn’t make it five miles...  but then he found out he passed a test the day of but attemps to run away with Lucy... but....  

Before this tho Snow sends all of  Sejanus Money to trigis ( oh yeah i forgot to add basically they are loosing there place) 

Now in the Woods...

5 seconds in snow is like oh hell no....

Lucy Figures out that Snow is the reason  Sejanus is dead... 

Lucy  says shes gonna get katniss plants and then she get the hell outta there this is after Snow finds the murder wepons... 

Snow gets bitten by a snake... ( Sips wine) 

Who in the hell Let Coriolanus Snow touch a gun...   he is shooting left and right... 

Lucy Grey GAME ON.... ARE YOU ARE YOU COMING TO THE TREE.... and then bam gone...

My reaction to those events was what the actual hell did i read there.. Oh it gets better... 

So snow makes it back thinking hes gonna die from a non poisnous snake bite... and hes outta district 12.. But back to the captiol to where Dr Gaul said you passed the test...  

Now here is the part I literally almost threw my book... 

When Snow used  Sejanus Parents to his full advantage... never telling them oh he is the reason there one and only son is dead.. and Basically the parents “Adopt snow..” pay for his schooling now, makes sure he is well fed and dressed..” I was beyond pissed at this point...  

So now my last point Snow said the games must go on which duhh ( since we meet Katniss everdeen ) and that they will be better and everyone must watch... and more twists and turns in it...