#he may not have a load of “true” friends but he notices the kind things people do for him

[dirtytransmasc]

Miles 42 bullies the bullies at his school, never making a big show of it, but stepping between a bully and their victim with a cool, calm, collected demeanor, scaring the bully off one way or another, giving the would-be victim a quick nod, and then walking off. Does he corner those bullies later as the prowler for unknown reasons? maybe, whose asking?

he may not be the friendliest guy at school, he may not have many friends, and he might give most people who try to get close to him (outside of Ganke) the cold shoulder and bare his teeth; but he hates bullies with his whole chest, and he will be doing something about it.

he's also the type of person to "not have many friends" but he has many "acquaintances". like he knows the boy with glasses in his math test saves his seat in the back corner. he knows the girl in his english class will always tell him where they are in the book they're reading if he gets lost. the tall kid who sits at his table at lunch leaves behind a snack for him when he leaves, cause he looks too skinny. he always repays the kindness, in his own way, but he will never call them his friends. friends are dangerous and time consuming and they make him soft, but he's also so desperate for interaction, that he breaks his own rules just a bit.

[dododan]

Thoughts about Alastor after the episode "Hello, Rosie"

Perhaps first such a small summary for those who haven't read my previous posts about Alastor.

Alastor's deal with someone has worked out. Officially we don't know with whom, but my theory is that it is Lilith.

Alastor is obliged by the contract probably to help/protect Charlie. His intentions are not clear, and he harbours many secrets.

He is not fond of Lucifer. Theories are that he either sees him as a threat to Charlie's hotel and dreams, or he is redirecting negative emotions about his own father and how Lucifer treated Charlie onto him.

Alastor enjoys being in the company of women and probably likes/appreciates Charlie. Perhaps he sees himself as her mentor.

His help, although chaotic and initially incomprehensible seems to be having an effect and actually helping the hotel and Charlie.

Alastor has a weakness for jazz and alcohol, but we don't see him ever drinking alcohol in the series.

His enemy is Vox, but he is more annoyed by Lucifer (probably because he is stronger than him).

Alastor doesn't like to lose or be wrong.

Here you have a link to previous thoughts if you are curious.

Alastor’s true motivations? - Why is he helping Charlie?

Dad beat Dad - Alastor, what the hell are you doing?

Traditionally, there are loads of spoilers here!

From the outset, Alastor seems interested/intrigued by Charlie sitting in the room and spinning another plan. Clearly he saw an opportunity in. Charlie was alone, so he could talk to her in peace. A plan was already forming in his head.

On Instagram, one girl made a fair analysis of Alastor's facial expressions. What expression on his face signifies what emotion. Which proved to be very helpful in understanding him! Here you have ig: @/sasha_draws.bg She did a really great job! But back to Alastor.

When Alastor feels some negative emotion, lines/wrinkles appear under his eyes. Which is true when you pay attention to the previous episodes, but in this 'Hello, Rosie' it is particularly noticeable.

For most of the time in this episode, Alastor seemed concerned to me.

When Alastor was talking to Charlie I had the impression that he was provoking her. He made Charlie painfully aware of how badly her plans had failed, which seems cruel. Initially this could be understood as simply an opportunity to take advantage of Charlie and make a deal, but I think this is just an added benefit. Alastor is bound by his contract to the hotel and Charlie, so he can't leave her. But Alastor has besides made Charlie realise that she can't idly brood on the bed because she doesn't have that luxury. Her friends were waiting for a plan, they were waiting for Charlie.

Charlie gave up at that point, and Alastor made her realise that there was still a chance to make things right somehow. He exasperated her, and showed her that she couldn't give up - in a rather cruel way but still, it's not always kind words or words of support that help you up.

Sometimes the painful realisation of the truth is the best motivator to undertake change.

For a moment, Alastor seemed annoyed that Charlie thought she had him figured out because she smiles all the time. He made her realise that the opposite is true.

A smile can be a weapon on many fronts. You could say that he gave Charlie some cue about his own behaviour. His lecture about smiling shows a lot about him.

Alastor hides a lot - his emotions, motivations or goals. He revealed to Charlie that he himself puts on a mask. The smile gives Alastor a sense of control.

The question is, isn't Alastor also lying to himself in this way?

He is creating himself as a cruel overlord, a person without a conscience who inflicts suffering on others for fun. It makes me wonder if he hasn't started to believe himself in the character he wants to pretend to be?

Nevertheless, no matter how good Alastor's goals may be attributed to him, or that his actions have a good effect on the hotel and Charlie, he still made a deal with her. He was aware that Charlie would not give up her soul to him and would not do anything against herself. Their deal is that Charlie is to help him like friend to friend when he needs it without hurting anyone, and he will give her information. Quite a specific arrangement and very narrow. To me their deal is a bit of a lifeline for Alastor when he finds himself trapped by his own contract.

[As an aside, I've noticed that a lot of people think that the stitches appearing on Alastor's lips are a sign that he can't talk about his deal. I doubt this because of the design of his character. Alastor was shown at many points to be dealing with voodoo or somehow connected to it. This is indicated by the green symbols that appear when he uses his powers, and the stitching that appears on his mouth probably refers to the very design of the voodoo dolls, which also had their mouths stitched in this way. Ironically in my opinion, voodoo is generally good magic, focusing on healing or helping, which doesn't really fit Alastor. Unless one considers the distinction between white and black magic as it is known in New Orleans. But I also point out that I'm not an expert, but I'm just partly familiar with the subject of voodoo and just wanted to show a reference to Alastor's appearance here].

I think Alastor's worry or uncertainty is most evident when he leads Charlie to Rossie. You can see the look on his face and those wrinkles under his eyes. This could be interpreted as:

he's upset that the angels are about to exterminate in the hotel and the only person who can oppose it is preoccupied with his love problems rather than more important matters.

He is upset/worried that he realises he won't be able to help Charlie this time, so he leads her to the only person who is more knowledgeable about love than him: Rossie.

He is nervous because he sees that he might fail if the hotel is destroyed, and that this might somehow breach his contract.

Alastor and Rossie seem to have a very intimate relationship, which was implied in the episode " Scrambled Eggs" when they were at the Overlords meeting. Now we have confirmation that they are very close friends. Rossie can afford a lot in Alastor's company and he allows her to do so. It also seemed to me that when he met Rossie he relaxed a bit, as the wrinkles under his eyes disappeared for a few scenes.

All in all, I'm not surprised that Alastor and Rossie are friends.

Rossie is the opposite of Alastor in a way. She seems transparent in her feelings and genuinely cares about her cannibals. But she also has the strength and power to allow herself to do so. Alastor, on the other hand, plays and hides emotions all the time, and gains power through fear. Despite this, he gets along very well with Rossie, which may mean he's not quite what he makes himself out to be.

I also think that Rossie's words about it being actions that show true nature and feelings may apply to Alastor and his role in season two in the future. But we can already see this now, for example, in the fact that his duet with Lucifer, where Alastor sang that he wanted to replace Charlie's father, ultimately led to a reconciliation between daughter and father which Alastor seemed to be happy with.

We also have it made clear that Alastor is asexual.

Rossie commented that Alastor could learn manners from Charlie. It is possible that what is meant is that when someone annoys Alastor, he does not mince his words. He makes his opinion clear - Susan is a perfect example of this.

Alastor and Rossie really seem close to each other, such as when they look at each other when Charlie panics, or how they dance with each other or their negativity towards Susan. Additionally, Alastor must have had a close business relationship with Rossie since she had an assignment for him and when she said that he never let her down. I got the impression that this gave him considerable satisfaction. Plus it helped the image he wanted to create for Charlie - that he was reliable.

Alastor also seems to put his faith in Charlie after all. Rather than believing in her plan of salvation for sinners, he believes more in the girl's ability to draw crowds and motivate people to action other than through fear or deals. It is hard to say whether he admires this trait of Charlie's, but he certainly appreciates her for it.

Alastor supported Charlie during her song when she had to convince the cannibals to fight - either by giving her the microphone or showing her a thumbs up. I further related that he was slightly worried/nervous, but also pleased after seeing his actions bear fruit.

Alastor also made it clear to Rossie that he valued Charlie and expected nothing less from her than to thrill the crowds. But the important thing is that he referred to her as the Princess of Hell, not Charlie. Alastor has made it clear for the first time that he wants to fulfil Charlie's potential, this shows that despite the faith he has in her, he still only sees her as the Princess of Hell and not Charlie as someone who is more than just a princess.

A break for now, as it's quite late at my place, so expect the rest of the analysis tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow at the furthest.

[kendrixtermina]

The Hamburg Defamation Case Update

To summarize from here:

What was ruled as defamation:

the I dare say obviously fictional 'hearsay' stories from "a friend of a friend who knew a former crewmember", such as the italian man story, the idea that they called it a 'slut parade', Till & richard arguing over some girl. Frankly it's ridiculous they even printed that. Obvious fiction, exaggeration, no one behaved like an actual human, tons of ambulances called but no one noticed?

spiking with KO drops (only ever claimed by Shelby, who was on meds that shouldn't be mixed with tons of booze, kind of caused a mass panic where people who were drunk or saw drunk people (Kayla) retroactively wondered if there may have been drugs involved - plus every single witness has confirmed the “bottles opened in front of guests” thing)

That the parties were intended primarily as sex things / to get Till potential partners or that people were deliberately gotten drunk with the intention to sexually prey on them/ that sex was expected (which is consistent with statements of loads of former party-goers on social media that they were just normal parties where he occasionally hit on someone)

What they're still allowed to write: (in the sense that it was ruled 'plausible enough' and/or 'in the public interest')

that Till may have sex with people in at least potentially questionable states of drunkenness (seems all but indisputable at this point, multiple accounts with affidavits)

that there was a 'system' where people were explicitly 'recruited' to parties with booze and some chance of later sexual contact - hm. Certainly technically true it was the case that influencers or just ppl from the metal scene in the town the concert was in were contacted on insta (also confirmed by posters here) but with that word choice allowed one wonders if it will be sufficiently distinguished from the third bullet point above. 'Inviting people to parties where there may be booze & flirting' =/= 'inviting people with the explicit purpose of perving on them'. There is booze and flirting in most parties, after all, some even have discounts for women.  the main point of row zero was ultimately to have some pretty, rocker-looking ppl standing in front of the stage so it looks good on photos, bonus points if they're influencers or something. So there's nothing per se nefarious about contacting pretty, rocker-looking ppl on insta. I suppose some might find it objectifying to put up attractive ppl as 'decoration' but they're getting free booze, backstage passes & exclusive invitations out of it so no different from being a model really.

This is all just related to the case with Till for now.

The stuff that was ruled defamation wouldn't have been dismissed if it wasn't too ridiculously lacking in evidence to even consider reasonable report, and the criminal investigation will only be stricter about evidence.

So unless some wild new unprecedented evidence turns up now suddenly several weeks in, I think we can confidently say at this point: 

Roofies thing 100% debunked

the idea that it was some bordello-like thing where ppl were deliberately picked to be pressured into sexual stuff, 100% debunked.

& having drunken sex in a hotel room, whether criminally relevant or not, is something any guy can do, so definitely not 'abuse of power'. (that would be, like, making your goons restrain someone or threatening their job etc.) - the moment it's just you & him alone somewhere he's the same as any lowly mortal. (Lowly mortals, of course, can still do ordinary crimes.)

We (or rather, the prosecutors) shall see about the rest, I guess.

Regardless of particular conclusions (I don't think I'm fully decided where I fall either, yet, i dont want to form biased, emotion-based conclusions and get attached to them), at least we all gotta agree that even if they’re guilty of some stuff,  we're dealing with a very different claim and level of potential ambiguity, severity and intent.

Any sane person would consider roofies or being pressured in a locked room to be rape, but drunk (but still walking & talking) is more of a gray zone.

Most ppl would say when someone is full on incoherent or unconscious & this was outwardly recognizable it’s obviously rape but almost no one would say that about being, like, slightly tipsy, and realistically, lots of people have shitfaced sex & consider it totally normal. These are evidently situations where everyone was smashed. No one’s gonna argue that this was the world’s most responsible behavior

So it depends on details & specifics that hopefully will be brought forth by fair judges asking the actual involved people non-leading questions. 

Defamations against jerks is still defamation even if it’s, say, calling a dude a serial killer if he only killed one guy. its not about defending anyone its about truth & logic. 

Far and wide you see people reacting as if the first three points were indisputably true seeing as they have been repeated over and over in the tabloids. Death threats, vandalism, random fans being accosted for wearing t shirts, calling for boycotts of any nightclub that lets them in (ironically with Michael Jackson T-shirts for sale nearby) ... this isnt rule of law, guys. 

They even pulled Flake’s book from circulation on spotify which, like... even actual undisputed criminals shouldn’t lose the right to publish books. If there is ANY way that any citizen can be deprived of free speech, you create an incentive for that to be applied to people one wants to silence. 

You can buy books of war criminals & murderers. You can get the memoirs of OJ Simpson and the Austrian Incest Case guy, for crying out loud!  & most ppl who do that are probably motivated by morbid curiosity & wanting to know how a crazy person thinks, not any desire of “supporting” them. Understanding people is not condoning them, indeed understanding crime is how you stop & prevent crime, so this kind of censorship wouldn’t be ok even if they were guilty. 

Also don’t think for a moment that the labels, companies etc. care so much about morals (michael jackson... still on spotify), it’s about avoiding controversy for advertisers because ads & corporations rule everything and rage gets more clicks than anything. 

[boom-fanfic-a-latta]

Blur (Sonic/Miraculous Ladybug Crossover Snippet)

So...yeah, this is a thing I wrote today. And an AU I've been sitting on for over a week. Hope you guys like it?

< (Fic Under Read More) >

Sonic hated being cornered.

Being cornered, after all, meant no room to run. And for someone whose greatest asset was his speed, well…

Sure, he could usually escape some other way, like spindashing, but not unless he was willing to risk hurting who- or whatever had him trapped. And unfortunately for him, this case was definitely one where he didn't want to cause any damage.

Because he really didn't want to give these cops MORE of a reason to be after him.

Thus, the hedgehog’s current predicament: trapped in the middle of a narrow alleyway, with both exits blocked by police waiting for him to come out, and no room to pick up enough speed to escape.

He didn’t even know how he’d ended up in this situation—well, okay, that wasn’t entirely true, he had to admit. Technically, he did have some idea: it was mostly Eggman’s fault. The evil doctor had managed to gather and attempt to use the Chaos Emeralds again, hooking them into some weird contraption that Sonic honestly hadn’t cared enough about to learn the name of. He’d broken it before it could do whatever Eggman had been planning, anyways—but said act of destruction was probably what had caused the thing to malfunction, followed by the Emeralds resonating in a flash of blinding light…

…And the next thing Sonic knew, he had crash-landed in the middle of the road in an unfamiliar city.

Then the cops had come to investigate the damage his impact had caused and started chasing him, leading to…well, this.

Being cornered in an alleyway.

Not his finest moment.

…Especially as, though he hated to admit it, the hedgehog suddenly started to panic. Thinking back on what had happened, he’d just remembered something:

The others had also been there when the Emeralds did whatever it was that sent him here.

Eggman had obviously been there, along with Amy, Knuckles, Tails—

He felt his breath catch in his throat.

Gaia below, TAILS!

It might have just been the stress of his current situation, but the hedgehog found himself unable to stop worrying about what might have happened to his little brother.

Was the fox okay? Or had he landed himself into trouble as well? Where WAS he?!

He felt even more helpless than before now—for all he knew, Tails needed help, but meanwhile, he was stuck, unable to move as he was surrounded. He couldn’t run, he couldn’t do anything—

Sonic squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he tried not to outwardly show the turmoil he was feeling. He didn’t notice as a pitch-black butterfly landed on his glove.

He just wasn’t fast enough, was he?

But you could be.

With a start, his eyes shot back open, and he gave a sharp, involuntary inhale.

The cops had started shouting something, but he couldn’t make it out. Everything had suddenly seemed to fade into the background as soon as the voice had spoken, and a strange glow was now tinging his peripheral vision with a purple haze.

“I…I could be, what?”

Fast enough, of course. The voice chuckled darkly. Fast enough to escape this alleyway, to escape your pursuers, even fast enough to help your friends escape whatever danger they may be in.

This claim earned Sonic’s full attention. “Wait, you mean it?! But…how? And—wait, who are you?”

My name is Hawk Moth. I have the power to bestow new abilities to others, such as the greater speed I’m now offering you…as long as you perform a small favor for me.

“...What kind of favor?”

He ignored the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something seemed off about all this.

There are a pair of magical jewels that I require, a ring and a set of earrings, known as the Miraculous. In exchange for the power I give you, I ask that you find them and bring them to me.

This sounded simple enough, he had loads of experience with magic gems.

“So…you give me powers, and I just need to get these ‘miraculous’ thingies for you?” Sonic repeated, just to be sure.

Yes, exactly. Now, do you accept, Blur?

Blur…

He liked the sound of that.“I sure do,” Blur, he wasn’t Sonic, not anymore, replied, giving a smirk. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Hawk Moth!”

[theficpusher]

Home for the Holly Days by LadyLondonderry | nr | 2421 There he is, bowl of batter in one arm and whisk in the other. The wireless is blaring something that distinctly sounds like Fairytale of New York, which would make sense with how much Harry loves muggle music. But. The thing is, is he's doing some terribly odd moves, swaying his hips slightly out of pace with the music but with so much more passion than Louis thinks he's ever seen anybody display about this song. His apron, down to his knees, is swishing back and forth as he moves and - dear lord - his shorts don't even reach as low as the hem of his apron. Louis has to get out of here. Or, Louis’s participating in the Secret Santa exchange between all the Hogwarts professors stuck at school over the winter holidays, and the Sorting Hat may fancy itself a bit of a matchmaker.

if you should try to kiss her by disgruntledkittenface | nr | 3129 It’s kind of their thing now. They make relentless snarky comments to and about each other and exchange meaningful eye contact every time they think no one is looking. At least, that’s what Louis thinks they’re doing, like their own extended lesbian mating ritual. It seems obvious to her that they’re inevitable in some kind of cosmic, grand design type of way; they’re eventually going to end up together and fix up an old house and Nick will build a chicken coop for the backyard (or hire someone to build it, probably) and then they’ll live happily ever after, bickering the whole time. If only she could be sure that’s what Nick thinks they’re doing. Harry's annual Christmas party gives Louis her chance to be brave and tell Nick how she feels.

(looking for) your name in these words by honey_beeing | T | 5330 Rapunzel, I wish you would let down your hair so I could come to meet you. ;) -Secret Santa "Mate, you're blushing," points out Niall as he reads it. (or) Where Secret Santa notes have a way of turning into love letters.

You Are The Only Thing On My Christmas List by KayleeJohn | T | 6008 Niall’s face splits in two in a wide teasing grin and Harry tries to yank his hand away, spitting, “Unbelievable,” but Niall just laughs, throwing his head back before he folds himself on the table top and traps Harry’s hand under his arms. It’s not the worst fate imaginable. Or the one where Niall is the only thing Harry really wants for Christmas.

I Just Want You (For My Own) by BleedMeAMelody | nr | 6147 “I made it so that you’re Harry Styles’ secret santa!” Niall practically shouted, clearly excited by his handiwork. Louis blinked once, twice, three times. “I’m sorry, I must be hearing things because it sounded like you just said that you made me Harry Styles’ secret santa, which I know can’t possibly be true,” Louis said evenly with a shake of his head. “Oh, but it is! I did!” Niall exclaimed happily. Or, Niall is tired of listening to Louis pine over the cute, curly-haired boy who works on the fourth floor, so he rigs the company’s secret santa. Holiday antics ensue.

Will You Still Call Me Superman by el_em_en_oh_pee | T | 6370 When Harry opens his locker, there's a box wrapped in blue tissue paper, wound messily in a skinny white ribbon, just sitting on top of his textbooks. A piece of paper taped to the top of the box readsTo Harry, Happy Christmas! I noticed how you're always chewing on your pencils in class so I thought this might help! -Your Secret Admir Santa xx In which Harry has an overwhelming crush on Liam, the nicest, coolest guy in school, and his friends aren't very supportive of the pain his crush causes him. The jerks.

Potions and Presents and a Partridge in a Pear Tree by b0yfriendsinl0ve | T | 7052 Harry has a bit of a crush, it's Christmas and there's chocolate.

Santa Baby Honey by SadaVeniren | E | 28736 “Let’s cut right to the chase,” Niall said, loading the powerpoint, which was just one page, comprised of Louis’ face and the words How do you solve a problem like this asshole? “It’s the beginning of November and Louis is already being a fuckwit. How are we gonna have him knock that shit off this year?” aka Louis is the CEO of a toy company and Christmas is a stressful time of year so his assistant decides the best way to make him chill out is by getting him laid through a Secret Santa

This Is Not The End by PrettyInSoulPunk | E | 41031 When Niall gets back home, there's a package lying on the ground right inside of his security gate, but he doesn't see it until he nearly trips over it. It's small, so he figures it must have been pushed through the mail slot. Or maybe it was thrown over the wall because it feels soft enough not to be fragile. There's no postage or return address, just a holiday sticker with his name printed on it in handwriting that Niall doesn't recognize.

[tuiyla]

top 5 Kurtana scenes?

Oh hell yeah. No particular order just the five that I currently dig the most.

2x20 Teen gay, you may proceed to next checkpoint without fear of violence

Apart from the pure comedy of Naya delivering her lines, I love this scene because it's the only one we get from them in this whole Santana's scheming and prom storyline. I love that Santana is being ridiculous and OTT and Kurt just rolls his eyes, I love that he knows that the whole Karofsky apologizing thing was her plot (without knowing her true intentions) and I love that he refers to her as Lady Macbeth earlier on. I think this is the dynamic we should have gotten from them in high school: Kurt exasperated but begrudgingly respecting Santana's cunning, and growing to realize that she's just a huge dork terrified of the world. There's also the interesting dynamic of Santana being responsible for bringing Kurt back to McKinley; yes, it was for selfish reasons, but she got results. And I think Kurt appreciated that in a utilitarian sort of way. (Side note but I think it's funny that I've seen this whole get-Kurt-back-to-McKinley scheme of Santana's be referred to as both the best thing she's ever done and the worst. Girl has range I guess.)

5x03 The Quarterback post-If I Die Young

Obviously. It's just such a good scene for them, and with The Quarterback everything should be treated on a different level imo because this was the actors mourning too. But still, this is also Kurt and Santana and such a tender moment between the two that shows how familiar they are with each other. Kurt knows what's a front and what's her real kindness coming through and encourages her to embrace that, even when Santana can't fully bring herself to be vulnerable even with someone she's been living with for months. He, in turn, offers his understanding.

4x17 watching The Facts of Life together

There's something so cozy and wholesome about this short scene before Rachel comes back to the loft. First off, Kurt made her a girlfriend pillow! And just the idea of them watching TV together and Santana lowkey shipping characters and just being so soft and roommate-y. For some reason I think this is the scene that really shows them being equals, just friends hanging out.

3x11 Auntie Snixx

Michael is such a good episode for Santana's hardcore friend ways. She notices Kurt sulking in a classroom and comes to the rescue, hearing him out and agreeing to do things in a non-violent and not sinking-to-their-level kinda way. And then she taped it to her underboob! A genius not appreciated in her own time.

5x08 Feliz Navidad

This is a small one but again it's just wholesome when Santana shows up in NY and gives Kurt loads of presents that show that she listens to him and cares. I know know PUC isn't canon all that, but still this is pre-Bushwick Santana choosing to spend her holidays with Hummelberry.

Not a specific scene but as a bonus I also appreciated how Kurt could have easily just taken Rachel's side during the feud but he kept a level head and believed Santana didn't have bad intentions, which is super important for her. She still escalated things because of how Rachel reacted but Kurt believed her and for a while there it was just the two of them in the loft.

[twinkleimagines]

* your secret’s safe with me*

You’re a pogue with a secret relationship with a Kook. Not just any kook either, the Kook KING. When people start to notice and the truth comes out Rafe tries to deny it since he’s the one who really keeps the Pogue vs. Kook war going . Do you go along or do you decide you’re worth more than secrets ?

“ fuck!” You moaned out loudly as you thrust your hips one more time, riding your climax out over Rafes huge cock. You felt him buck his hips up while squeezing your bottom while groaning, finishing out his own orgasm.

“ that was amazing” you breathed out as you rolled over , flopping yourself back down next to Rafe.

“ fuck yeah it was” he said catching his breath before sitting up, pulling something out of his top drawer on his night stand. You rolled your eyes as you heard him sniff something up his nose .

“ you ever gonna leave that shit alone?” You replied with aggravation, rolling over to face his toned back. He stayed quiet as he continued wiping his nose to catch anything that may have fallen out.

“ I just hate seeing how it’s changing you” you said with a softer tone, placing your head on your hand that was propped up on his pillow.

“ yeah well I’m handling my own shit okay” he said glancing over at you from his shoulder before looking back down and the substance in his hand.

“ heard that before “ you mumbled before sitting up, searching the floor for your clothes that Rafe practically ripped off of you an hour ago.

“ where ya goin?” He spoke as he watched you get dressed.

“ it’s 6 in the morning , don’t you have that thing at the country club with topper and Kelce?” You replied as you pulled your t-shirt over your head, pulling your tangled hair back out of it. Rafe shrugged not getting the memo.

“ soooo if we’re going to keep this a secret-“ you relied, pointing your finger back and forth between the space between the two of you , “ - then they can’t see me leaving and they’re going to be here soon”. Rafe nodded his head before standing up, his sweaty body shimmering with the morning sunlight.

“ yeah true” he stated walking towards you holding your sandals. “ you’re still coming to the party tonight at the bone yard though right ?” He replied standing very close to you.

“ duh” you replied pecking a kiss on his lips. “ wouldn’t miss it “ . Rafe stood for a second as he watched you bend over in front of him, placing your sandals on your feet.

“ just meet me at the spot” he replied before placing a quick smack across your left cheek. You jumped up before scolding him. ‘ the spot’ was the place you both hid secretly for quickies. It was the only spot you could be together at the bone yard that the pogues and kooks wouldn’t see.

“ okay I’ll text you” you replied before kissing his lips again.

“ ok I’m getting a shower “ he replied while running his hands through his hair . “ I smell like good pussy” he laughed out while running his finger tips up your crotch outside of your shorts.

“ you’re fucking nasty “ you laughed pushing at his chest .

****

[text message]

Rafe- you here?

Y/n- yuhh wya?

Rafe- topper wbu?

Y/n- bonfire

Rafe looked up from his phone to see you already looking in his direction smirking. Rafe grinned before looking back down at his phone.

[text message ]

Rafe- you look hot af

You grinned as you looked down at your outfit. You had short blue Jean shorts and a blue bathing suit top on, your hair flowing over your shoulders. You knew you looked hot But it was solely for Rafe.

Y/n - you too ;) I really like your hair pulled down the front like that

Rafe- quicky?

You bit your bottom lip, feeling the same tingling feeling at the pit of your stomach as you looked over at a couple of your friends letting them know you’d be right back .

You quickly made your way over to the spot , Rafe following with his red cup of alcohol right behind you.

“ hey princess” Rafe said from behind you. You turned around, lips immediately landing on yours . You giggled into the kiss, the excitement of being in a public area fucking and getting caught ran through you.

“ you can’t go 30 minutes of seeing me without wanting to fuck me huh?” You said , grabbing ahold of his rock hard boner beneath his shorts. Rafe threw his head back in pleasure as you got down on your knees , placing him in your mouth.

“ fuck” he groaned out while placing his hand through your hair, applying pressure against the back of your head. You could feel yourself gagging slightly as the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat , moving at a fast pace .

A couple more minutes went by before Rafe pulled himself away from your face. “ turn around” he replied as he pulled you up by your arm, only to turn you around shortly after . You quickly pulled your bottoms down, showing your bare ass before leaning down, placing your hands against a large fallen tree.

Your mouth flew open as you felt Rafe insert himself into you at a fast pace, his hips immediately moving back out only to slam himself back in . You arched your back, your hair draped to one side over your shoulder, swinging back and forth at the motion Rafe had you moving in. You couldn’t hold the moans in as Rafe continued to hit your g-spot over and over as he usually did.

“ hush baby don’t wanna get caught do you?” He replied as he continued to pound into you, his fingers digging into your hips surely to leave bruises . You bit tightly onto your bottom lip, trying to hold in the moans from all the pleasure you were receiving.

Rafe groaned loudly as he watched you place one of your hands on your clot, rubbing circles , bringing yourself to your climax . Rafe felt your legs begin to shake, causing him to hold you hip against him.

“ you cumming baby?” He breathed out as he watched your body start to tremble in front of him.

“ yes Rafe” you moaned out loudly, causing him to reach his climax as well. Rafe quickly pulled out, pumping himself a few times as his load shot out . You giggled as you watched him finish himself off before tucking himself back in his shorts, you following shortly after to pull your bottoms back up.

“ let me know when you go to leave I’ll take you home okay ?” He replied kissing the top of your forehead. You sighed heavily, sadness filling you. You absolutely adored Rafe. And having to keep him a secret from your friends and family honestly sucked so much. You wished you could be open about your relationship together but with you being a pogue from the poor side and him being a rich kook, it just wasn’t the right time to come out yet.

“ of course , wanna stay the night? My mom won’t be home this weekend “ you asked. He nodded placing his large hands on your cheeks .

“ what we doin? Movie night?” He asked, rubbing circles on your cheek with his thumb.

“ and other things” you teased with a big flirtatious grin.

“ you’re so cute” he laughed out before giving you a quick peck on your nose , before turning away - making his way back to his friends.

You made sure to wait a few seconds before following behind so no one would notice .

You walked over to one of the kegs, getting you a cup of whatever alcohol beverage they had mixed in it when you heard toppers loud drunken voice from behind.

“ where’d ya go buddy?” Topper said patting Rafe on the back. You didn’t hear Rafe respond but topper didn’t hesitate to run his mouth again.

“ you were fuckin someone weren’t you?” He joked, causing the group of people he was with to start laughing and cheering Rafe on. You began to smirk until you heard the words Kelce spoke.

“ I bet it was that pogue Y/n” he said. You froze for a second , the keg you were at was kind of hidden behind a tree so you backed yourself further behind, looking over towards rafes group , ease dropping in.

“ the fuck? No” Rafe replied almost to quick . You frowned slightly, wishing he would’ve had some other type of response other than the one he just gave them.

“ I call bull man “ Kelce replied . “ topper bro I saw her car parked in his driveway like 3 different times “ they all laughed at kelces words , while Rafe shook his head in denial.

“ who wants to fuck a dirty pogue “ he replied. It felt like a blade shot through your heart at his words. Is that really how Rafe felt about you? Was he really that ashamed of a ‘ dirty pogue’ like you?

“ hey man she’s pretty hot for a pogue” topper replied patting Rafe on the shoulder . You couldn’t handle listening to anymore once anger started to rise in you .

“ dirty pogue? I’ll show you a dirty pogue” you mumbled to yourself as you chugged down two full cups of the alcohol, pouring you a third before making your way to a group of tourons.

***

You had been standing there for a good 20 minutes, flirting away with a. Group of guys that were out of town , all young horny college boys looking for some fun one night stands.

You usually weren’t like this but your only intentions right now were to hurt the boy who unknowingly hurt you.

[ text message]

Rafe- tf you doin with them boys?

Rafe- hello?

Rafe- I’m ready to go c’mon

Rafe- are you ignoring me..?

You looked down at your phone after the 5th ding, only to leave him on read purposely.

“ hey I’m gonna grab another drink” you said running your hand down the side of his biceps, solely because you just knew Rafe was watching you from a distance based off of his messages.

You finished off the cup you had as you walked over towards the keg, almost tripping over yourself .

“ yo” you heard behind you as you struggled to fill your cup up. You sat up taking another sip of your drink to see Rafe towering over you, his eyes squinted at you with anger .

“ what” you spat out.

“ why are you ignoring me “ he asked , this time his voice a bit softer as if his feelings were hurt . You shrugged, taking another sip of your drink, not feeling sympathetic to him . “ I think you’ve had enough of this “ he said attempting to take the drink away from your hand but you quickly pulled away from him. “ y/n I’m serious those boys your with could try something with-“

“ what? Try to fuck me ?” You responded with a smirk. Before Rafe could even respond you turned your back to him, filling back up the bit of alcohol you just drank. “ hey at least they would WANT to fuck a dirty pogue like me “ you responded before walking off, chugging your now 5th drink once again.

Rafe wanted to chase after you to apologize , but he knew if he did everyone would see you two together and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that yet.

You stood over with the boys, one in particular getting very handsy. At first your plan was to make Rafe jealous, but at this point you knew in the end ask you wanted was Rafe and you had taken this’ flirting’ thing too far.

“ you should really let us see your tits” one of the guys said, tugging at the string of your bathing suit. You quickly swatted his hand away, getting nervous as you watched the group of guys circling around you.

“ no way” you laughed out, “ I can’t just show my breasts out here” .

“ oh c’mon” another said grabbing at your ass, which you immediately pushed his hand away. “ everyone’s too drunk to even notice” . You attention to back away from the grabby guy but the circle just kept enclosing around you.

“ okay guys” you laughed off nervously , but by now the guy had his hands around your waste , pulling you against your boner .

“ why don’t you come back to our hotel we can show you a really good time” the guy said , while his friend reached out, grabbing one of your breast.

“ no- please stop” you responded trying push yourself off of the guy behind you. All of a sudden you felt the guy behind you sling backwards, almost dragging you with him. You quickly caught yourself from falling before you turned around, only to see Rafe himself picking the guy back up by his throat .

“didn’t you hear her say no?!” Rafe yelled, the guy stumbling backwards as Rafe pushed him towards the water .

“ Rafe stop!” You yelled grabbing at his flexed biceps but to no avail.

“ the who’re was practically throwing herself on us man !” The guy tried arguing which really set Rafe off. Before you could even defend yourself, Rafe was throwing punch after punch, not even giving the guy a fighting chance. By then a whole circle of people were surrounding the fight , topper and kelce trying to pull Rafe off.

“ he’s down man he’s down!” Topper yelled at Rafe as he watched the nearly unconscious guy spitting blood out his mouth. Rafe squatted down, picking the guys face back up by his jaw.

“ touch my girl again, and I’ll fucking kill you “ he spat out before pushing his head back down against the shore. Rafe quickly stood up, his jaw clenched walking straight towards you. He had pure rage written all over his face when he grabbed you by the forearm , making you follow him. You didn’t bother to hesitate, quickly following along with him. You were practically jogging trying to keep up with his lengthy legs as he walked quickly across the sand to his truck.

“ get the fuck in the truck” he gritted through his teeth, holding the passenger door open for you. You quickly climbed your way in his truck, him slamming the door before walking around to the driver side , getting in the truck with same aggressiveness. The ride back to your place was silent, the only sounds was the trucks engine revving up every-time Rafe pushed on the gas. You watched as his knuckles were pale white from squeezing so tight on the steering wheel and his jaw clenching over and over again. It was turning you on to the max but you decided to stay quiet, since he was way too upset at the moment .

You had finally made it to your house, your front porch light lighting the inside of the car up some.

“ thanks for the ride” you said softly before reaching for the door handle .

“ wait “ Rafe said , not taking his eyes off the street in front of you. He sighed heavily calming himself down before looking over at you. “ I didn’t mean what I said earlier” he spoke. You looked down. You knew he didn’t look at you like that, but to convince the kooks, that’s exactly what he had to say .

“ I know” you said softly looking over at him. The car stayed quiet , neither one of you knowing what to say but neither wanting to be away from each other. “ I wasn’t going to do anything with those guys” you said finally breaking the silence. Rafe stayed quiet, anger filling him just by picturing you getting fucked by one of those guys.

“ I was just trying to make you jealous” you said turning slightly in your seat facing towards Rafe. Rafe looked up at you, his eyes staring deeply into yours.

“ it very much worked” he replied. You chuckled slightly nodding your head.

“ I know and it was so hot “ Rafe laughed at your comment, shaking his head.

“ well everyone knows now too so” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“ I’m sorry” you replied softly while lowering your head.

“ princess it’s okay” he replied grabbing ahold of your face. “ everyone was bound to find out eventually “ he replied with a sincere smile.

“ I know but I forced it early and you weren’t ready” you replied , laying your head down in his head .

“ no “ he replied shaking his head. “ I don’t care who was around there’s no way I was about to let those guys keep touching you the way they were. “ you sighed heavily, leaning back in the seat .

“ well you wanna come inside?” You asked, feeling yourself getting drowsy.

“ of course princess “ he said taking the key out of the ignition .

He followed you to your front door, his eyes not leaving your bottom.

“ your ass really does look good “ he said before grabbing a handful.

“ behave yourself “ you joked before leading him inside your house.

It was about to be a loonnnng night .

***

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

[starshipsofstarlord]

Conference Room

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Bucky gets a surprise when he realises that things that were looked down upon, and people were often disgusted by in his day and age, are wanted in this one.

Warnings | includes smut, blowjob, cum facial, Bucky being an insecure bb, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Everyone filed out of the meeting room, one by one disappearing into the maze of the compound. Bucky watched you with tender eyes, slowly following behind, as you headed for the door.

But instead of passing though the threshold, so that you could make your way on route to the kitchen, in order for you prepare yourself a well deserved drink after sitting through the small conference, you closed the door, and pushed down the latch.

The action itself made Bucky stop in his footsteps, and fix you with a confused expression. He wasn’t sure why you had locked the two of you in here. Only moments ago you had been on a group call with Fury, and now that he had signed off, all of you had been free to leave.

But that freedom that all the else had fled feebly towards, served a much different price to that for which you specifically had in mind for him. “Sergeant Barnes, I think the two of us need to have a little talk; our ears only.”

Bucky gulped, remaining upon the spot that he was stood in. He racked his mind for reasons that you would want to do this here, and not in one of your bedrooms. It would only make things more difficult for when he left the scene, heartbroken by you cutting him off, and finally pushing him away.

It was inevitable that it would happen somewhen; but it was too early. Things were finally running smoothly, he felt content and happy, and as though he were making a good difference to the world, which is all he ever wanted. However, it appeared that all of that was about to come tumbling down at his feet, in the same very moment.

The two of you hadn’t been dating too long, just short of three months. And during that time, the pair of you had never once gotten obscenely intimate. So in your case, as he viewed it, you really had nothing to lose. But he couldn’t pin point as to why you were dressed in a sly smile, and creeping ever so steadily towards him as though you had a surprise.

“Doll.” He spoke softly, thinking that it would be the last time he had the opportunity to describe you with that pet name. From the way that he addressed you, your expression quickly became more innocent and happy.

As you got closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his middle, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss upon his material covered chest. “Baby.” You greeted him, moving to his lips next, and pressing a fluid peck upon them.

“What are you doing?” He unsurely asked, his voice cracking in the meanwhile, and his face scrunching up into a confused frown. Your hands rubbed down his chest, and plucked the band of his trousers, over again in a repeated motion.

Sucking your lip into your mouth, you looked up into his sky blue eyes, reading them for any signs of him being affected by your actions. Rather than feeling aroused, it seemed to make him confused, which was not at all your intention.

“You seemed tense Buck.” Your hands raked their way back up to his shoulders, soothing any apparent tightness that were held within his muscles. “I thought maybe... I could help loosen you up.” Fluttering your eyelashes at him, Bucky lightly groaned, rubbing his lips together as he mulled over what the pair of you could possibly get up to in this room.

His hands went down to the button of your jeans, but lightly, you slapped his hands away, doing the same to him, and undoing them. As your fingers toyed with the zip that helped the denim be adjustable to his size, your other palmed him through the blue material. “This is about you James. I want to make you feel good.”

Again, he swallowed his own saliva, he paid the utmost attention to your every movement, completely compelled with how you tossed your hair to the side by simply moving your head. “You want me to suck your cock, I promise I’m good at it.” A giggle erupted from your mouth, and Bucky clasped your chin in the feather light grip of his vibranium hand.

He pulled your lips to his, warming them up before slipping his tongue inside. It had been a long time, though he hated to admit it, since he had done anything even slightly sexual, and a part of him was afraid that he wouldn’t last long.

But the other was excited, back in the forties , blowjobs weren’t often digressed. The idea had always appealed to hun, however no dame had ever wished to dirty their knees before him, and take his sufficient length down their throat. It pained him a little, knowing that like most people he had encountered through his life, that they would take from him, but never return it with an ounce of kindness.

He’d perceive it as a dream come true, the woman that owned his entire heart, independently wanting to pleasure him in such ways that were looked down upon in his day. “Are you sure?” He pulled away, desperate for some clarity on the matter.

“Yes, of course I am.” You smiled, drawing him in for another locked lip session. After a minute or two of tasting his tongue, you trailed your direction down, running down his chin, and then his neck, until you completely dropped to your knees, rutting your hand against his growing cock.

Right then, from that image alone, Bucky swore that he would die. That innocent expression that was entailed upon your face had him mentally cursing, and he couldn’t help but groan to himself in a relaxed manner as you pulled his jeans down to his ankles, leaving only his boxers as the final barrier.

Lightly, you pressed a kiss to where you guessed his tip to be through the cotton, gently running your tongue down the shaft, and lower down to where his balls were stationed. “Y/n, please stop teasing.”

“Tell me Bucky.” Your fingertips cascaded up and down his v line, warming him up to what was to come(pun intended). “Have you ever been sucked off before?” His heart rate picked up, as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“How did you- that punk!” He said in reference to Steve, realising that he must have let the detail slip to you. But he couldn’t be made really, if the captain hadn’t digressed his secret to you, then he may have waited longer to experience the enthralling and dirty, as it had been known to be, engagement.

Without any pressure, you pressed your teeth upon his cock, dragging his attention back towards you. “Now that is no way to talk about your dear friend, I’d say he did you a favour.” He was getting ready to grumble in his Bucky manner, but was hit with your gasp as you suddenly pulled his boxers down, his dick slapping upwards, having your entire focus.

Reaching forward with a hand, you wrapped it around the mid section of his shaft, your palm hardly fitting around his girth. “It’s so big.” You gaped at the sight, moving your hand up and down to gouge a reaction out of the super soldier above you. His head leant back, his eyes screwing shut as he realised just how sensitive he was. He felt like a virgin all over again.

An obscene and loud moan was pulled from his mouth as you ran your tongue up his shaft, humming at the taste of his intimate skin. With the encouragement of his lie noises, you directed his tip towards your lips, rubbing it upon the cushioned flesh, before sinking him halfway in your mouth.

“Holy fuck!” He exclaimed, reaching down and on instinct entangling his metal hand in your loose hair. As though you were doing nothing, you innocently looked up at him with wide doe eyes., although he could feel you hollowing your cheeks around him, as you began to bob your head.

Only then did he realise how experienced you must have been within this department, for he noticed how you didn’t struggle nor gag the slightest around him, and it appeared that you were enjoying it as much as he was.

One of your hands planted itself on the thickness of his thigh as your other found homage with fondling his balls. His chest rapidly moved as he felt every slither of your tongue around him, and as you pulled slightly back, you began dipping it in the line of his slit.

“Baby, slow down, or I’m going to cum.” With his words heard, you took him out of your mouth, wrapping your hand around his saliva soaked rod, and began pumping him rapidly. For a moment, he swore his head was going to explode as he saw you stick your tongue out, awaiting his load that was soon to be delicious.

“Cum Buck. Want you to cum for me.” It was impossible for him to hold back any longer, and thus, his seed flew over the expanse of your tongue, whilst the rest spurted over one side of your face. “Hmm.” You mumbled, swallowing that of it that you caught, and scooping a swipe into your mouth.

“I swear to god that I’m in love with you.” He spoke breathily as you stood up, both of your faces flushed from the activity. He pulled you in for a few pecks, to which you could do nothing more than stare into his oceanic pools.

“Well that’s encouraging.” You laughed, reaching down and tucking his softening cock back into his boxers and jeans, giving it a loving pat before pulling away. “I love you too Bucky Barnes; always.”

“The conference room though, really?” He asked with a bemused laugh, causing you to shrug. “You’ve got to walk out of here now.” He said, motioning to the mess on your face.

“That is something that I didn’t think of.” You responded, your eyes darting a around the room, until your eyes landed on the box of tissues that Tony had brought in at the start of the meeting. Thank Thor for his cold! “Grab me some paper towels from the corner would you babe?”

He sent you a pleased, and you’d say very satisfied smile, before stepping back, and heading in the direction of the desk, picking a few sheets out of the cube, and walking back to help you clean up. He felt like he at least owed you that much.

[velissiamemes]

♡  Shrek Sentence Starters ♡

Quotes from the movie Shrek (2001)! Feel free to adjust as needed.

“She was locked away in a castle guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon.”

“It'll grind your bones for it's bread.”

“Please, don't turn me in. I'll never be stubborn again.”

“Five shillings for the possessed toy.”

“Father, please! Don't let them do this! Help me!”

“Talk, you boneheaded dolt, talk!”

“You might have seen a housefly, maybe even a superfly but I bet you ain't never seen a donkey fly.”

“Hey, wait a minute! I got a great idea! I'll stick with you.”

“Together we'll scare the spit out of anybody that crosses us.”

“Your breath certainly will get the job done, 'cause you definitely need some Tic Tacs or something”

“Only a true friend would be that cruelly honest.”

“You got that kind of "I-don't-care-what-nobody-thinks-of-me" thing. I like that. I respect that.”

“You know you are quite a decorator. It's amazing what you've done with such a modest budget.”

“I like that boulder. That is a nice boulder.”

“I like my privacy.”

“You don't know what it's like to be considered a freak.”

“This is gonna be fun! We can stay up late, swapping manly stories, and in the morning... I'm making waffles”

“What are you doing in my swamp?”

“He huffed and he puffed and he signed an eviction notice.”

“Do not get comfortable. Your welcome is officially worn out.”

“You're a monster.”

“No, no, not the buttons. Not my gumdrop buttons!”

“Do you know the muffin man?”

“She's a loaded pistol who likes piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.”

“You're going the right way for a smacked bottom.”

“Maybe I could have decapitated an entire village and put their heads on a pike, gotten a knife, cut open their spleen and drink their fluids. Does that sound good to you?

“Parfaits may be the most delicious thing on the whole damn planet.”

“Did you do that? You gotta warn somebody before you just crack one off. My mouth was open and everything.”

“Let's have a dance then, shall me?“

“I'm gonna die.”

“So where is this fire-breathing pain-in-the-neck anyway?”

“The princess will be up the stairs in the highest room in the tallest tower.”

“I'm an asthmatic, and I don't know if it'd work out if you're gonna blow smoke rings and stuff.”

“This be-ith our first meeting. Should it not be a wonderful, romantic moment?”

“You know, you should sweep me off my feet out yonder window and down a rope onto your valiant steed.”

“You could recite an epic poem for me. A ballad? A sonnet! A limerick?”

“I pray that you take this favour as a token of my gratitude.”

“Slow down, baby, please.”

“I believe it's healthy to get to know someone over a long period of time. Just call me old-fashioned.”

“Let's just say I'm not your type, okay?”

“Put me down, or you will suffer the consequences! This is not dignified! Put me down!”

“Hey, can you tell my future from these stars?”

“Look, I'm not the one with the problem, okay? It's the world that seems to have a problem with me.”

“They judge me before they even know me. That's why I'm better off alone.”

“Look, if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask.”

“Now, I don't mean to brag, but I make a mean weed rat stew.”

“You're afraid of the dark, aren't you?”

“Wake up and smell the pheromones. Just go on in and tell her how you feel.”

“Ah, that's beautiful. I didn't know you wrote poetry.”

“Only my true love's kiss can break the spell.”

“I mean, really, who can ever love a beast so hideous and ugly?”

“I ask your hand in marriage. Will you be the perfect bride for the perfect groom?”

“You are mean to me. You insult me and you don't appreciate anything that I do! You're always pushing me around or pushing me away.”

“You're so wrapped up in layers, onion boy, you're afraid of your own feelings.”

“She said I was ugly, a hideous creature.”

“Really, it's rude enough being alive when no one wants you, but showing up uninvited to a wedding...”

“He's not your true love.”

“We're but a kiss away from our "happily ever after." Now kiss me!”

“I'll make you regret the day we met. I'll see you drawn and quartered! You'll beg for death to save you!”

“Celebrity marriages. They never last, do they?”

[hops-hunny]

Just a Flight Away

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Ilvermony!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Request N/A

Summary: Neville has a cutie who lives in America but no one seems to believe him.

Warnings: None! 

A/N: This isn’t a request but it’s based off of me rambling here and slightly off of the vibe telepatia by Kali Uchis gives off.

If there was one thing Neville was thankful was it was the absolute goddess he got to call his girlfriend. It was funny the way they first began talking to one another. (Y/n) had been trying to contact a friend at Hogwarts but after the long trip from Ilvermony to Hogwarts, her owl was quite exhausted and ended up bringing the letter to Neville instead. Neville saw the poor bird, giving it a bit of bird seed and water that he kept in the green house before he set off to find the rightful owner of the letter. Luckily he had 3rd period with the girl who thanked him before excitedly yanking the letter from his hands. When Neville went to go check on the owl, he saw that it had already left, leaving a heart shape in the bird seed.

After that day, Neville hadn’t really thought about the incident that much. Well, that was until he saw the same owl fly towards him with a letter in its mouth. He smiled fondly at it rubbing under its chin with his finger before going to give the letter back to the owl until he noticed it had his name on it.  He ripped it open, careful to not damage the envelope before reading the letter.

Dear Neviile,

Thank you so so so much for getting the letter to Gwen! Gwen is a good friend of mine who I had been missing dearly and if not for your kindness she would have never received my letter. 

As you may be able to tell from the seal on the letter, I attend Ilvermorny school of witchcraft and wizardry. I've heard of how grand and great the infamous Hogwarts is, is it true? How is England in general? I've never had the pleasure of traveling out of America.

Oh yes! The main point of this is as a thank you, I've attached a package of my favorite American sweets as a token of my gratitude. The package is enchanted which is why it's so small. To restore it to its original state, place it on a flat surface before tapping it with the tip of your wand.

Sincerely,

(Y/n) (L/n)

Neville felt his face grow warm at the girl's kindness. (Y/n). 'What a beautiful name..' he thought to himself before pulling out the galleon sized package from the envelope. He pushed aside a few plants on the table in front of it before placing the package down, tapping the top with his wand. He gasped, watching in amazement as he saw the package expand. Neville wasn't quite familiar with this enchantment, perhaps he'd ask her about it in his response. His cheeks turned a brighter red. Response?

Did she want to speak to him more? He didn't want to assume but by her letter and her asking questions, it made it clear that this wasn't the last exchange she wanted to have. Was this a prank? Were the Weasley twins up to this? There was only one way to tell. Neville reached a shaky hand forward, opening the package as he closed his eyes expecting something to pop out at him but when he opened his eyes there was nothing but a box of snacks he had never seen before. He let out a sigh of relief, ignoring the racing in his heart.

After that, Neville and the girl started to talk quite a bit. Months had turned into years and he couldn't have been happier. It felt nice to have someone he could talk to, someone far away from all the hustle and bustle of the castle. To her he wasn't the kid with unfortunate luck or the "cowardly" boy in Gryffindor. He was just Neville, her boyfriend. Neville, her kind boyfriend in another continent, far away. 

(Y/n) loved Neville just as much. It wasn't that she never had suitors approach her. In fact, she had quite a few. (Y/n) was what you could consider popular, not that she cared. She was kind, smart, and beautiful. Who wouldn't want that? However, she always felt like none of the men who'd approach her got her. They all just saw her as a beautiful woman instead of what she was, a normal girl deserving of love. That's why she liked Neville so much. No matter what he always treated her with the utmost respect and that hadn't stopped when they started to date either. 

When the two had first exchanged photos, Neville was stunned. He had been talking to that beautiful of a girl? He couldn’t believe it. It was as if Olivander himself had sculpted and carved her out of the best of wood. She had glowing (s/c) skin, soft healthy looking (h/c) (h/c) hair, and a smile that could compete with the sun on its brightest of days and win. And when he found out she was single? He would’ve been a fool not to make a move. Angels as sweet as (Y/n) didn’t come around that often. 

And although their relationship was as great as can be there was the underlying sadness: they lived across the world from one another. Every time either of them would see a couple hug or kiss in school, they’d feel a twinge of jealousy pierce their hearts. It wasn’t fair that the most perfect person in the world was off enjoying themselves in their respective countries. Although (Y/n) tried to ignore it, Neville was the type to bring it up. He’d describe in the most beautiful of words what he’d do if they were together. How he’d hold her in his arms and show her off to all of his friends. Where he’d take her on a date, the plants he wanted to show her as they were both herbology geeks. Meanwhile she’d end each of the letters discussing this topic with the same phrase as usual. ‘You know I’m just a flight away. If you wanna I could take a private plane.’ He could never ask that of her though. As much as he’d love everyday to be filled with his flower, he wouldn’t wanna rip her away from the things she had going on in her own life.

It wasn’t all bad though! After the girl had taught him the charm she used when she first sent him something, they both would send each other gifts back and forth as much as possible. Neville sent her sweaters with his scent embedded, charmed flowers, chocolate frogs, anything she wanted was hers. She’d send her own things to remind him of her as well. Her favorite stuffed animal, loads of photographs, little crochet hats she made for Trevor, more...unsavory things as well definitely not her underwear. Despite the increase in objects Neville owned, none of his friends had questioned it until he started to wear a necklace with a heart shaped piece of onyx on it with the letter (Y/f/i) carved into it.

“Oi! Neville. Where’d you get that necklace from?” Ron questioned his friend who sat across from him in the Gryffindor common room. The boys had all decided to study together which of course turned into Neville studying as they goofed off. Neville tensed as his cheeks heated up turning a pink color.

“O-oh um..it’s from my girlfriend.” He said, saying the last word as soft as possible. He prayed to Merlin that his friends hadn’t heard him but unfortunately for him they had. It wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone to know about her. It was far from that. He was just a bit protective, he didn’t want anyone to try and steal her from him. Even though it was impossible since they had no contact with her, he never knew when it came to his friends. They always found a way to make the impossible possible.

“What year is she in?!”

“Who is it?!”

“No way, is she fit?!”

He finished at the chorus of voices, trying to calm them down so he could speak. They all scooted closer to him, looking up at him expectantly. “Well you see..” he trailed off, looking away as he played with the pendant around his neck. “She doesn’t go here. She attends school in Ilvermorny. But to answer your question, yeah she is bloody fit.” he responded, turning his attention back to the scroll of paper in front of him. Dean, Ron, and Seamus exchanged a look with each other trying to suppress their laughs.

“Yeah I’m sure she does Nev.” Dean said sarcastically as he joined the other two in laughter. Neville looked up at his friends confused at their behavior.

“Yeah Nev, if your nan sent it you could’ve just told us! Better than saying you’ve got a girl halfway across the world.” Ron said, pushing the boy slightly as he continued to laugh at him. Seamus was doubled over, snorting with laughter as fire whiskey shot from his nose causing the other two to howl with laughter.

“It’s not from my nan! My girlfriend really did send it to me.” he exclaimed, smacking Ron on the back of the head, before doing the same to the other two men. “Besides, you have some fucking nerve accusing me of lying when none of you have birds yourself.” he sneered, causing the boys to quiet down some.

“So harsh Neville, you didn’t have to go there mate! Well what’s this ‘girlfriend’ of yours called.” Seamus asked, doing air quotes as he mentioned the topic at hand. “You’d think it was a bit strange too if your friend suddenly mentioned a girlfriend who lived all the way in the states too wouldn’t you.”

“(Y/n). And I’ll have you know this isn’t a new thing. We’ve been dating since around 2nd year. Sure, I’d find it a bit strange if you mentioned a girlfriend in America that you had never brought up prior, but I wouldn’t find it impossible! Now if you excuse me, I have to go.” he quickly stood up, packing up his materials as he stormed off to the direction of his dorm. He sped up, ignoring the protest and begging of his friends to come back and continue to hang out with them. He had enough of them and he wasn’t gonna sit there and let himself be called a fucking liar by Hogwart’s biggest ones.

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

“Did you guys hear? Students from Ilvermony are supposed to be coming to visit!” Ron said, running up to the other four boys. “I’m just picturing how hot all the girls from the states are gonna be. All hot and leggy with those bloody accents. I could combust just thinking of it!” he exclaimed, flopping down on the couch. Neville gasped softly, looking up. Did he hear him correctly? 

“Where’d you hear that from? I didn’t hear anything of the sorts.” Hermione questioned, looking up from her book at the interesting news she had just heard. However, Neville was still frozen. Was this true? And if so, why hadn’t (Y/n) mentioned it. No, no it couldn’t be. She surely would have told him.

“I just overheard it from Dumbledore himself. They should be arriving in a few minutes! They’re staying here for a few months. It’s a part of this new thing that they’ve set up. Something about wanting the students to learn different methods and what not. They decided it’d be a good idea since summer is coming soon.” he said nonchalantly, looking over at Neville who hadn’t moved since the news left his mouth. He went to question what was up with him before his eyes lit up, recalling the conversation they had a few months ago. “Hey Neville? Didn’t your supposed ‘girlfriend’ go to Ilvermony.” the boys all suddenly interested began to ‘ooo’ exchanging looks with each other.

“See Neville, this is why you don’t lie. Lies will always come back to bite you in the rear. Perhaps Ronald i-”

“I wasn’t lying, Hermione! She really does go to Ilvermony.” he exclaimed, standing up as he wiped his hands on his pants. All of a sudden, there were the sounds of a bunch of American accents speaking which caught all of their attention. Many different students in Ilvermorny uniforms (some without them) roamed freely to explore the large and intense castle.

“God you weren’t kidding Ron, the girls are bloody fit.” Dean muttered, eyeing some girl who gave him a wink before giggling and running off with her friends. “Woah look at that one, are you kidding me? She’s a fucking goddess!” Neville’s curious hazel eyes followed his friend's words as he saw a familiar shade of (h/c) hair styled in the way his girlfriend wore it. Wait, was that his sweater? 

“That’s not just some fucking girl, that’s my girlfriend!” Neville exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

“No chance.”

“You couldn’t pick a more believable one?”

“Prove it then.”

Neville went to say something before the girl turned around, locking eyes with him. She gasped, tearing up some as she pushed through the crowd of people running to him as quickly as possible. “Nev! Neville babe, is that you?” she exclaimed. Neville’s face flushed brightly taking in the girl’s appearance. She had worn the first sweater he had given her, a mossy green sweater with an obscure pattern, with a pleated skirt pairing it with a pair of boots. Neville nodded his head quickly, holding his arms out as the girl ran into him almost knocking him over. He picked her up, spinning her around quickly before setting her down, holding her soft face between his hands.

“W-what are you doing here?! You never told me you were coming to visit!” he exclaimed, wiping at the stray tears that had left her eyes. He moved his hands from her face securing them around her waist as he stared down at her. God she was even more beautiful in person.

“I wanted to surprise you! I actually found out a few weeks ago and let me tell ya, it was SO hard not to tell you!” She giggled, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, smiling at her. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get even more handsome but bloody hell. You’re so fucking hot, Nev.” she said, feeling her face heat up. Neville flushed a bright red before leaning down, kissing the girl on the lips. She pulled him down more, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed back. The kiss was full of the love and affection they had both been craving from one another. (Y/n) tangled her hands in the back of his hair as he deepened the kiss, moaning softly. They both jumped away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat. “Ah sorry! Nev, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” she asked looking up at him as she intertwined his large hand with her smaller one.

“I suppose I will, even though for some reason they thought you weren’t real.” he quipped, glaring at the four boys who looked away ashamed. “From left to right there is Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus. And over there,” he said pointing to the big arm chair in the corner. “That is Hermione.” he said as they all muttered ‘hi’ and ‘sorry’ from some of them. (Y/n) giggled some, waving at them all.

“It’s very nice to meet you all! Nev talks about you guys all the time in his letters. Oh!” She said, eyes looking at his chest. She reached a hand forward, grabbing the engraved onyx in her hands. “The necklace I gave you!! You like it? I think it looks really good on you.” she exclaimed with a smile, happy her boyfriend enjoyed the gift she gave him. Neville once again looked at his friends chuckling some at their wide eyes.

“Of course I do, petal. I wear it everyday, everywhere I go. Right guys.” he teased, watching as they all stuttered out ‘yes ‘yep’ ‘sure does. “Come on flower, I’ll show you around the castle. I know you’ve been looking forward to that for a while. Also, you look quite cute in my sweater.”

“Thank you. I wear it quite often, even though the smell of you has worn off it still brings me good memories.” she said, playing with the slightly worn out sleeves of the sweater. “I’d love to!! Can we check out the greenhouse first? I wanna see that plant you were talking about. Maybe we can work on identifying what species it is!” he nodded in response, taking her hand once again as they began to walk off. Before they turned the corner, he quickly turned his head around using his unoccupied hand to flip off his friends before turning his attention back to his lover.

“Who would’ve thought? Longbottom with an absolute fox.” Ron said, slumping back down as he frowned. Hermione took the book she was reading smacking him upside the head.

“Maybe if you knew how to treat women you’d be with one too.”

[one-real-imonkey]

How do you think it would go for someone from the CG to transfer to a frontline battalion?

Oooo thanks for the ask. Sorry it took a few to respond but here you go…

———

Well, I think Palpatine would make it almost impossible to get transferred out once you’re in, because that’s a large part of isolating the Guard. You go in, but once you're in, out is in a bodybag. He does everything in his power, as both as Sith and the Supreme commander of the Army and leader of the Republic, to do it. After all, he needs the Guard isolated for his plans to work properly.

But if someone did get out, I think at first they'd feel shock, relief and confusion, more than anything else. Especially that things were dangerous, but quality of life was actually better and at least it was actually what they were trained to do.

There would be at least some mocking from the others, because they'd be a Corrie, a paper pusher, never seen a real fight, and to a degree that may be true, but none the less quality of life is way up, outside of the fighting anyway. At least in these fights they have proper gear and not just the left overs.

But they’d prove themselves, even if they kept mostly to themself.

It wouldn't actually take that long for the others in the battalion to realise that their vod flinches so much, keeps their head down, shies away from their General, makes themself small. They saw the bruises when their vod first arrived, but brushed them off. They questioned why their vod was thinner, but didn't really investigate, just made sure they weren't skipping meals or anything like that. Once they start realising the other things, pieces come together.

And, once they do, things start changing quickly. Suddenly they’re thinking about their batchmate who went into the CG and how long it’s actually been since they talked, about the next batch over and how they ended up posted in the CG and they can’t remember loading touch but it happened. It begins to spread, more and more of them realising that for one reason or another, or maybe for no reason at all, almost everyone had lost contact with the GAR beyond formal messages.

And none of them had noticed. How hadn’t they noticed.

Most of them start to reach out, through messages or on leave on Coruscant, casual messages (or at least that’s the aim) but it reestablishes communication. Some are well received, some responses are withdrawn and untrusting, wanting to know what they want now after all this time.

Some don’t get messages back, or if it's in person their questions are answered with sad pitying looks, their friends or batch mates have been KIA for months, maybe years. They didn’t even know it.

But slowly, the bonds are reformed. The GAR start watching the CG, instead of dismissing and scorning them. Start noticing patterns, stop causing them problems on their own shore leave (and why were they even doing that in the first place? they're their vode) because their vode don’t need that, and most of all, they start gathering evidence.

The Guard don’t trust them, not after they were so quickly cut off and isolated, and they don’t want to worry their vode when there’s nothing they can do to help, but slowly evidence is gathered.

Some of them go to the Jedi for advice, and the Jedi rally behind the clones as much as they can with the Senate's now solidified wartime control over them, even before Fox risks revealing that Palpatine is the Sith. The evidence and information is complied and sympathetic lawyers are found, as well as Senators like Organa and Amidala. The Jedi medics are the ones to find the chips and start removing them.

The Handmaidens are one of the key part of the plan working, the best at subterfuge, at compiling and organising information, and they have all the contacts they'd need for something like going against a Sith running their government. Organising the protests, the legal action they plan to take, the defence of the clones. The Jedi run the de-chipping in secret, but they are not alone. They hardly have enough medics for that, but between the Handmaidens, clone medics (who are de-chipped first) and medics hired from sympathetic planets to assist.

By the time they go to face Palpatine, everything is ready and in position. The Jedi and clones pick a team to go after Palpatine and his closest together (while also setting up an impenetrable defence for the Temple and keeping up the active war fronts) and also lock down the Senate. Once Palpatine is dead (arrest was the goal but...) and the Senate is taken over (temporarily) real change begins.

———

Thanks for the ask, this is kind of an AU if my AU, but a different outcome for the same starting scenario. Hope you liked the answer.

Inbox is always open. (-:

[anika-ann]

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.1

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 3700

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly. 

This is not a beginning of a steamy story; given the reason you’re hanging out in the dark, even a make-out session is honestly the last thing you want to fantasize about right now.

But that doesn’t mean that the nice stranger cannot make your day much better. 

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, attempt at humour, language

You were on the verge of screaming – or crying, you honestly weren't sure anymore. But you knew you were done. You had worked your fingers to a bone just to get here; to become a little bee in the most famous hive in Manhattan. Stark Industries. The Stark/Avengers Tower. The beacon of the New York skyline. The dream coming true.

Yeah, not so much.

You hadn't expected super-important assignments – after all, you were just an assistant to the head of one of too many departments – but God, you had not expected to be handling coffee so often. To be running ridiculous errands. Your degree from MIT should actually mean something here! If nothing else than that you were not just some pretty face and that you fucking didn’t deserve the treatment you were receiving.

And that was the root of trouble, really. You could handle making your way up, it would be tiring but not surprising, it was pretty much what you had assigned for.

But you had not assigned for the sexist comments, disgusting innuendo and for the grabby hands of your sleazy boss. Thomas Gregory was a fucking nightmare of a man and you swore that you were quitting if he called you a ‘Dollface’ or slapped your ass one more time.

And that was how you had got here, into this very moment; hiding in a dark supply closet like a creep with two cups of overpriced coffee in a cup holder and a piece of organic carob-nut muffin.

You weren't about to come out any time soon, because you simply knew your boss still would be a pig and give you yet another reason to hand in your notice and you had fucking wanted this job for so long, worked for it so hard and sacrificed too much that you just couldn't make yourself to quit no matter how much your skin cringed and your stomach rolled over every time Thomas Gregory touched you. It was so frustrating you wanted to scream.

Or cry, you still couldn't solve the dilemma. Maybe both.

You barely registered the hurried footsteps – and then the door was yanked open, you glimpsed a tall blond male figure and suddenly there was dark again. Except there was one more body in the very limited room of the closet, making you press your back onto the shelf.

Something rattled with your movement and the newcomer hissed a barely audible ‘Be quiet’ as two columns of muscles that were probably his arms framed your head leaning onto the very same shelf, so you could both fit in here.

The little order leaving his lips broke the last seal inside you. You were tired, frustrated and were receiving enough humiliation as it was, you did not need some random guy invading your hideout, barking orders.

“Look, mister, if you have any problem with me trying to make a little space for you in this tiny-ass closet, I recommend you to-”  

“Shh!” he hushed you and you thought you had never heard someone whisper so urgently; at least it sounded less bossy than before. It did not mollify you though, because this guy actually had enough impudence to-

“Don't you dare to shush me-!”

A hand went to cover your mouth and you let out an exasperated mumble of curses, while his voice continued.

“Please, just— I'm sorry, please, don't make a sound, my friend is trying to set me up and-”

Your eyes went wide and he suddenly fell silent. Before you could question his methods of shutting you up, his exclaim or the pause, and ask him to be so kind to find another closet, another male voice sounded somewhere behind the door.

“Come on, Steeeve. Man, don't be such a prude. Lillian is a great chic, okay?”

The man – the friend, you assumed – seemed annoyed and you couldn't believe that Steve had not been kidding you. He was actually hiding for the very reason he had offered you. You nodded as you heard the stranger behind the door move and the hand covering your mouth hesitantly disappeared.

“It's just a lip piercing, don't be such a tight-ass. It can actually be quite fun, you wouldn't believe what a girl can do with such thing…”

“Gross,” you commented soundlessly and you could feel your companion’s eyes burning a hole into your head in silent agreement.

“Goddammit, Steve!”

The voice and the footsteps slowly disappeared in the distance and you… you were face to face with a stranger named Steve in a limited space of a dark supply closet, his breath tickling your scalp, his cologne very much assaulting your nose; at least it was a pleasant assault.

“I'm sorry for being so rude. And thank you,” his voice caressed your hairline gently and hearing his suddenly polite tone and evaluating this whole situation, you could barely hold back a giggle all of sudden.

“You're welcome, Steve. How long has this been going on?”

“Two days-” That didn't sound too bad, he could probably take a lot more- “-at this level. With Lillian. It was Emily before that and Angelina before that. In smaller scale, it's been happening for about four months,” he recited dutifully as if he was reporting a status to his boss and this time you couldn’t help it – you giggled.

When you could feel the wounded gaze he gave you, you obediently made a sympathetic noise.

“Aww, poor you, your friend supplying you with no doubt great relationship material…”

“That’s what he said! But I don't want a relationship material. I don't want any material, not even his… one-night stand material. What does that mean anyway? These are women he's talking about, not a material-”

You let out a tiny pleased sound at his exasperation, which shut him up. You wondered if it was your turn to speak – it was hard to tell, supply-closet conversations weren't exactly your area of expertise.

“Kudos for that thinking,” you noted after short silence and the darker shadow of his figure tilted his head. “Did you try to tell him that you weren't interested…? Of course you did, why am I asking, that was a stupid question…”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, I got a little… carried away. It just… it's like talking to a brick wall.”

You hummed in sympathy again and the room fell into silence once more.

It was ridiculous how much your mind started working over hundred percent, trying to come up with something appropriate to say. The best you could do was:

“Hey, you want a cup of overpriced organic coffee? I happen to have two.”

The needy noise that let his lips was downright pornographic. Or maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, the strange environment finally getting to you.

“I knew I smelled coffee here! I thought I went completely insane.”

You couldn't help but smile at that. Yeah, you knew the feeling all too well.

“Nope, your senses were not playing tricks on you. Help yourself. It should be around your left hand.” A rustling of a paper bag. “Oh. That's a carob-nut muffin – with carob instead of cocoa. You can have that too, I won't need that.”

“Alright, I gotta ask. Why are you hiding in a supply closet, with a muffin and two cups of expensive coffee nonetheless? And may I hand you one?”

“Such a gentleman. Thanks,” you murmured and accepted the cup. You weren't lying about not needing it – you wouldn't. Because you were about to quit; it was inevitable.

You sipped the warm liquid, its taste as bitter as the reason behind your actions.

“So?”

“I'm hiding from my boss.”

Your voice must have sounded terrible, because his own softened at the confession.

“And why is that?”

“Because if I bring him his coffee and muffin, he'll probably call me his good girl and— and slap my butt and-”

“I beg your pardon?” he growled, like honest to God growled, the strange sound warming your scalp.

And it was the righteous outrage in the sound he let out, the reaction that you needed, someone agreeing with you – a stranger, who wouldn’t feel obliged to do so just it was a duty of being a good friend to you – that made the levee break. Suddenly tears were streaming down your face, anger and humiliation, and your breath was hitching in embarrassing hiccups and the dark space felt so anonymous and safe at the same time that you didn't even care anymore.

“And if he does that I’ll have to– to quit, because I-I'm so fucking fed up with his dis-disgusting hands and si-sickening voice voicing his lizard thoughts a-and I ca-can't quit goddammit, I worked so fucking hard to-to get a job h-here and-”

You didn't realise your hands started trembling until the cup disappeared from them, placed back on the shelf, and a pair of much bigger and warmer hands gently enveloped yours, his body shifting just a little closer as he lost the support that had been keeping some distance between you.

“Hey, hey, shh, it's gonna be okay…” his voice washed over you soothingly, sounding almost at your ear.

Still, there was space between your bodies, a respectable distance – as respectable as possible in the limited space. It was as if he acknowledged it could make you uncomfortable – which probably wasn't exactly hard to figure out, given what you just told him.

“I'm sorry,” you sobbed and cleared your throat afterwards in attempt to compose yourself. “I didn't mean to load that on you, my problems are none of your concern-”

“Like hell they aren't. Sexual harassment on a workplace is everyone's concern, or it should be,” he grunted. His hands tightened their grip, not uncomfortably – reassuring. “This okay?”

You smiled through your tears. This Steve guy was really sweet to you. You almost forgot what it was like to be treated with respect.

“Y-yeah. Thank you for-- for asking. That was really nice.”

He huffed. “It should be a normal human decency. And I did grab you before that, sorry.”

“Something tells me you would let go if I said no more vehemently.”

“Of course I would.”

You gave him a watery smile he couldn't see and tried to calm your breathing completely. His thumb caressing your wrist helped. You wondered which department he was from; if his skills in comforting came with a job description or if he was a natural.

“Have you… have you tried to fill in a report?” he asked hesitantly, making your heart stop.

Oh yeah, you had. It had ended up in a shredder machine, because Thomas had spotted it. He had made you do it yourself, standing over you and watching, claiming the complaint had been baseless and it would pointless to hand it anyway, because he would explain the HR how it truly was. That you had made a move and he, the good father and husband he had been, politely turned you down, which turned you vengeful.

You whispered the story to Steve, your voice trembling, more tears escaping and you could immediately tell he believed you – because his grip grew steely strong, his teeth grinding.

“This is wrong. You should have never been forced to work for a man like him– objectifying you, touching you, threatening you, that's just--- you should talk to Tony,” he blurted out in the end and you frowned.

“Who's Tony?”

You had checked the whole HR department via their website when doing your research. You couldn't recall any Tony.

There was a short pause, broken by Steve's confused voice. “Stark.”

You blinked, wondering if Steve was joking. He didn't sound like he was joking, which was strange, because so far, he had seemed to be a smart and reasonable man.

“There's no way I'm scoring a meeting with Mr. Stark. And it's not like he’s dealing with things like that.”

“...Talk to Pepper then. I doubt she has bigger than zero tolerance for harassment,” he exclaimed confidently as if talking to Pepper Potts (this time you assumed whom he was talking about – did he call all of the big bosses their first name…?) was an option for a regular human being like you. Realizing that all over again though, that was tough.

“While I believe that’s her policy, it's not like I can just walk into her office.”

Steve seemed to consider that, while his thumb was still drawing patterns on your skin, almost subconsciously.

“I think you could. But if you're worried it might take a while and you’re scared to go back to your office now, let me walk you. I can explain him that every employee deserves to be treated with respect,” he offered finally, deadly serious, yet still sounding kind.

Your heart swelled. A guy you just met (in a supply closet, a good story to be narrated at parties, you supposed), suggested to help you out, no hesitation. God, wasn't he just too pure for this world?

“I… thank you, Steve. But… while you do have an impressive frame, I think it would only get worse. I think I'll just enjoy this extremely hipster coffee, which I'll later have to pay for no doubt and… and go face my boss to hand him my resignation. There are plenty jobs, right? I can as well serve coffee in a café,” you said with a sad smile, letting your hands slip from his comfortable hold.

“That's not right. Especially if you worked hard to– not to mention it's a matter of principle. You run away once and… running is a very hard habit to break,” he whispered, as if a secret, trying to reason with you.

You bit your lip when the truth of his words washed over you, along with the way he spoke; with such a strong believe in principles that should stand a standard. It… he made you forgot your own trouble for a second as you let yourself get lost in him. In the way he treated you, the protector's persona, yet not forced. He had suggested you to ‘let him come with you’, not even a note of command in his approach. This was not a man seeing an opportunity to be a hero when spotting the damsel in distress; this was a man who believed in what was right and wanted to fix things that were apparently broken. You wished there were more men like him, selfishly wanting one of them to be your boss.

“And men like these – they need to be put in line,” he added darkly, snapping you from your daydreaming of a better world. “Let me come with you. I'll—I’ll help you fill in the forms, walk you to HR. You don't have to deal with this alone.”

For all the comfort the dark had offered you so far, you wished for a little bit more light now, enough to see his face, his eyes. You knew they would be burning with honesty, you were sure of it, maybe a little rage aimed at a man who dared to treat another human being the way he did.

The offer was so tempting. But just imagining the security escorting Steve from the building for wanting to help you was enough to put out the fiery need to accept. It was ridiculous to care so much about his well-being after what could be minutes of knowing him, but no one could call you out on it. And if they did, you could always play it cool with ‘matter of principles’; good people only deserved good things.

You carefully reached out, hoping to find his hand again. Your heart skipped a beat when you brushed his thigh instead, but at least his hand was right next to it. He released a surprised breath when you took it into yours, way smaller one. You bit your lip when leaning in a little, blindly trying to meet his gaze.

“You’re a good man, Steve. I’m sorry your friend is giving you a hard time, you don't deserve that – even though I'm sure he means well. If you ever want to get him off your back...” you wavered at the ridiculous idea, but hey, why the hell not, he had offered to help you out first, “you can say you're seeing someone. Give him my card. I'll confirm we're together – he seems like a kind of a guy who would check.”

Shocked breathless laugh erupted from his chest and you assumed you hit the nail on the head. You fished out one of your business cards, handing it to him and releasing his hand then.

It was time to leave and face your fate, but Steve didn't make any attempt at moving out of the closet.

In fact, he seemed to examine the card for a while and then he quietly read out your name. You gasped in surprise. How the hell could he see anything? You could barely make out his silhouette!

“How-”

“I'm used to working in dark spaces,” he muttered absently. “Would you really do that?”

Slightly taken aback he was considering your offer, you nodded, only to realize he couldn't see it--- actually, he probably could.

“I would. Hell, I think I could handle one uncomfortable dinner with your friend vetting me,” you added, slightly amused at the idea. When you could hear his shocked exhale and wanted to take it back. “I didn't mean to-”

“Let me come with you to your office,” he repeated like a broken record and you frowned at the sudden change of topic.

“What-”

“It could throw your boss off your back for long enough for you to deal with the complaint. If you would be comfortable enough to play my girlfriend for a dinner time, why not now?”

Your eyes went wide and you almost choked on air.

“I-what? I told you it would probably only make it worse-”

“It will work.”

“How can you be so-”

The door yanked open and your eyes were hit by an unpleasantly sharp light, making you squint.

“Holy-” a ridiculously familiar voice you couldn’t place breathed out. “Wilson! I found him! You’ve gotta see this!”

You wanted to see the owner of the voice, but your view was completely blocked by the broad chest of your companion.

So you at least raised your head to meet Steve face to face so to speak. You couldn’t see much, your eyes still adjusting; with the light shining from behind him, playing a mysterious game with his blond locks, framing his impressive figure, he looked like a freaking angel, beautiful and righteous, bringing justice, yet wrapped in an aura of peace and serenity. You barely kept your jaw from falling on the floor.

You kept staring, focusing on his face, and slowly started realizing that his features too, were familiar. Mortification was creeping up your back as the puzzle pieces started falling into place, creating a horrifying picture, making you wish for the Earth to swallow you.

The voice from behind Steve’s back resolved the last doubts you had about your temporary mysterious roommate.

“Wouldn’t peg you as a get-freaky-in-a-closet kind of guy, Capsicle.”

You wanted to immediately protest that you had definitely not been getting freaky in the closet, but your brain was still frozen because of the big revelation – that you had just been comforted, hell, that you had just offered to be a fake date to Captain America.

You simply stared at him, unbeing able to hold your jaw from falling anymore. Because– because-- oh god.

Now it made perfect sense that he thought Thomas Gregory would be intimidated… by the idea of harassing Captain America’s girlfriend. You couldn’t really blame Steve for being sure it would work. Also, it kinda explained why he called Mr. Stark or Ms. Potts their first names – they were on the first name basis.

Which really was the least relevant thing right now.

A bashful smile appeared on Steve’s lips, a little guilty perhaps, and you just… giggled at the absurdity. You couldn’t help it. You had just spent minutes in a supply closet with Steve Rogers without having a single clue about it and while you didn’t do anything heated as someone would assume, it was one of the most amazing minutes of your life.

You must have looked like an idiot or something, because he chuckled too, completely ignoring another male voice growing in volume as the newcomer approached.

“Holy hell, man! I can’t believe what I’m seeing!”

At those words, Steve tentatively took your hand with an encouraging smile and led you out to the hall. You were met with two pairs of curious eyes examining you from head to toe. You lowered your gaze, now fully aware of the fact they belonged to Tony Stark – the Iron Man – and Samuel Wilson – the Falcon.

Well. Now the ‘party story’ finally got the right juice.

“Then don’t, Sam, because it’s not what it looks like,” Steve replied to his match-maker friend and took a deep breath, squeezing your hand tighter. “Tony, this woman would like to report harassment on her workplace.”

Your head snapped to Steve’s face with panicked gaze. What the hell was he doing?!

Tony Stark made a noise of disapproval.

“Couldn’t you try harder so she wouldn’t complain about you?”

“Tony,” Steve addressed him, his voice solemn just like his expression, which clearly surprised the billionaire. “I’m serious. It’s not about me. Her boss is the reason why she was hiding here.”

Without commenting any further, Steve handed him your business card and Mr. Stark hummed. You weren’t brave enough to look up. Was he going to wave it off? Was he going to fire you?

He said your name, making you gulp in fright. You had to look up now and you really didn’t wanna, too afraid of what you’d see. You were shocked to meet with a searching gaze, but not a mean one.

“It is true? Is your boss giving you trouble? Making sexist comments? Worse?”

You felt tears in your eyes, utterly taken aback by his sensitive tone, the inviting light in his eyes. It was too much to bear and you wanted to escape the kind gaze; and he wouldn’t let you. You only managed to nod when you felt Steve’s thumb caressing the back of your hand.

Mr. Stark sighed, adding a dark ‘goddammit’, and returned Steve the business card.

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

Part 2

I know, I know, Steve is a little bit of Knight-In-Shining-Armour here, but it made sense to me O:-)

Happy weekend!

Thank you for reading!

[jaskierswolf]

Written for @thewitchertransweek.

Day 3: Bards and Nonhumans

Ship: Jaskier and Filavandrel (Platonic)

Rating: T

Summary: In which Filavandrel learns more about the power of a name

CW: Dead-naming, fae!jaskier, top surgery scars, feral Jaskier.

_

Travelling with a witcher to the edge of the world had been the last thing Jaskier had expected when he’d started his day. He’d just been excited to have been relieved of his courtly duties. Prince Julian of the Lettenhove Fae Court, a dull job that made him completely unbearable to his kin. He’d finally been thrown out after playing a particularly nasty prank on his sister, but really in his defence, she refused to call him Julian, stating that Julia was his true name.

Jaskier knew that was a load of bollocks. Julia no longer held any power over him, it hadn’t for a few years but his family were stubborn little shits, stuck in their ways.

So, good riddance to them.

As long as he could hide his real identity from the witcher he'd decided would be his new best friend, then all would be fine. He just needed to not get killed, play the part of the hapless bard, let the bloody elves rough him up a bit.

And if he let loose a teeny weeny little bit of magic to stop Filavandrel from killing Geralt then… Well, could you blame him?

Luckily, Geralt didn’t seem to notice, hopefully too preoccupied with not dying to make any connection between the vibration of his medallion and Jaskier. He was probably more likely to blame Torque or one of the elves. Jaskier was just a bard after all.

Filavandrel gifting his lute to Jaskier had been a surprise though, and he’d worried for a moment that he’d released more magic than he’d realised, but the stoic elf just raised an eyebrow and cocked his head towards the witcher. In return, Jaskier had furrowed his brow, and Filavandrel let out a long sigh.

“You may go witcher, I need to speak with your bard. This lute may be different than he’s used to, old elven magic. It would be quite dull for you I’m sure.”

The witcher just grunted, murmuring a quiet “Not my bard,” before fleeing the cave, picking up his twin swords as he went.

Jaskier spun round to face the King of the Elves, letting his glamour slip enough so he was taller than the elf, his bones hollower and longer than before. “Your highness,” he bowed deeply, winking at the elf.

“Travelling with a witcher is risky business for a fae, Julia,” Filavandrel stated, his face stoic and unmoving even as he said Jaskier’s given name.

“That won’t work, elf,” Jaskier hissed, dropping his glamour completely, including his shirt and doublet, revealing the two scars that ran across his chest, lined with shining golden ink that decorated and embellished them. He shook his hair as it grew, falling below his chin, then tucked it behind his newly pointed ears with long claw-like nails. Finally, he let his wings unfurl in the cave, beating them so he rose above the elf, delighting in the fear that shone in his eyes. “Julia doesn’t exist. I take it you know my mother.”

“An old friend of mine. I was there when you were crowned princess as a babe.”

“Prince, now I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t try to manipulate me, Filavandrel,”Jaskier smirked as he wove magic into the name. The elf stood up straighter, his arms dropping to his sides like a toy doll.

“Release me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I mean you no harm, bard. My sincerest apologies.”

Jaskier smiled too sweetly and released the elf. “Good. So, tell me about this lute?”

The elf scoffed, “Only if you tell me about that witcher of yours, I knew one of his kind a long time ago.”

The smile broke into one of sheer delight, genuine and shining. Jaskier clapped his hands together, his glamour falling back into place in a snap. “See, I knew we could be good friends, you and I.”

“Likewise, Master Bard,” Filavandrel agreed, reaching out for the lute that Jaskier had in hand. “Now, let’s see what you can do.”

_

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @unyielding-as-the-sea @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire (Let me know if you wanna be added/removed)

[glowingbadger]

Ashe SFW and nsfw HC? Also ferdie too pls? Ty!

A couple of sweet good boys on a sunday let's gooooo

Ashe, Ferdinand (FE3H) x GN Reader HCs

SFW (nsfw below the cut)

Ashe:

- Ashe is absolute precious boyfriend material, with all of the cozy and comforting trappings that come with it. Cute inside jokes and pet names that sound like nonsense to anyone else, shared clothing and swinging your hand slightly when he holds it- all of the wonderful little things that reinforce the effortless way you just 'get' each other.

- He does worry about you a lot, but he'll tend to channel that into productive solutions. He'll offer to teach you some techniques with a bow, or even certain little survival tricks he learned in his rougher upbringing. His first instinct is to be your chivalrous knight- to throw himself in front of you and protect you with his whole being. However, he can certainly be convinced to channel this instead into helping you feel confident in your abilities so you both have less cause to worry to begin with.

- Dates with Ashe are usually pleasant walks through town, or through a nice forest path he'd heard of from the locals. You two will bring some food you prepared together, and simply enjoy each other's company along with the sights. When you do feel like taking time for a bite to eat, he'll even regale you with his favorite chivalrous tales. He apologizes for getting so wrapped up in them- surely you must find them embarrassing or boring -but he's so passionate and engaging when he tells you these stories, it's hard not to get swept up with him.

Ferdinand:

- get ready to be ~spoiled~ my friend. Once you've captured Ferdie's heart, no gesture is too grand, no price is too high, and no effort is too great for the chance for him to express his adoration. He'll have flowers delivered to your quarters until you're surrounded by a veritable garden, and if he has to bring a personal chef to Garreg Mach to ensure your favorite dishes are always available, then so be it. If his absolute excessive doting is too much for comfort, he can be talked down a little bit, though you're going to have to be firm with him. In general, Ferdinand does best with a straightforward and communicative partner, as he doesn't always do well with subtext.

- While not necessarily into PDA (it seems ignoble to engage in physical pleasures in public), he has absolutely no qualms about calling you "darling" or "dearest" no matter what the company. He'll openly brag about you to anyone who will listen too- though he hardly sees why he should have to, since it's so obvious that you're the most stunning, brilliant, charming person in Fodlan and elsewhere.

- Ferdie frequently enjoys sharing a ride around the castle grounds on horseback. If you don't know how to ride, he'll gladly teach you, and in fact he secretly savors the chance to guide you by hand and provide for you. Of course, it's equally if not more appealing to have you share a saddle with him, held close to him by an arm around your waist.

- He's shy about admitting it at first but he loves when you brush and/or braid his hair- it feels so intimate and loving!

NSFW v

Ashe:

- we've chatted about Ashe's sexual tendencies a bit, so feel free to check the masterlist in my profile for more of this good good boy (he's in a bunch of the multi character posts), but let's see what else we can chat about.

- Ashe bruises fairly easily, so it's likely you'll leave a hickey or two on him without even fully meaning to. He's very sweet about it, shyly smiling and telling you that he doesn't mind if it's from you. The other Blue Lions (okay mostly just Sylvain) might tease him a bit if they notice, but in truth, this just makes Ashe think about how wonderful it was to have you and how he can't wait to be with you again.

- His cock is about average in length, but it has a wonderful shape to it that stimulates all kinds of unexpected spots. When fully erect, it has a nice, strong upward curve, and the head bulges a bit thicker and has an attractive dark pink flush to it. Ashe also has gorgeously defined arm and shoulder muscles, so he's more than strong and dexterous enough to pull off any position you'd like to try, despite his lithe frame. If anything, the gap appeal between how sweet and earnest he is and how pleasurable the sex can be is arousing in its own right.

- He's very shy about giving and receiving oral at first. He has this idea that giving oral is a complex and scientific process for him to master, and he desperately wants to get it right for you. Meanwhile, receiving feels like he's making you do something subservient for him, which he's personally not into (he's not into power dynamics in bed much in general). He can absolutely get over this, and in fact he can be quite good at oral once he learns to relax and just try things and learn together, but you're going to have to reassure him a bit.

Ferdinand:

- why have I written so little about Ferdie?? He's a joy, let's talk about fucking him.

- Ferdinand actually has a fairly impressive cock, and he has no idea. It's not like he's completely naïve- he's fooled around a bit with romantic interests in the past- but you're likely to be his first true sexual partner once he's realized his enduring feelings for you. So when you ease down the hem of his breeches and see his manhood standing long and thick and nicely tapered, you might be a bit pleasantly surprised.

- Related, Ferdie definitely gets off on praise. Steadily stroking his length while telling him how beautiful his cock is, how big it is, how you can't wait to feel him inside of you, will easily have him bright red in the face and panting for you in no time. If you liked, you could certainly get him to cum like this, making an absolute mess as he spills his load all over your hands with his head tilted back and his fists clenched.

- He's a bit clumsy with his hands at first, having not learned about sex to any great degree prior to you. He'll be immensely relieved if you're the type to tell him exactly what you want and what feels good for you, so communication is key when it comes to him. However, he has a wonderful natural sense of how to move his hips, and his thigh and glute muscles are well developed as any true equestrian's would be. Riding Ferdinand is especially enjoyable, since he'll intuitively match your rhythm so he's pushing deep into you at the best possible angle.

- Ferdinand is beautifully sensitive in a number of places. He loves having his hair pulled, and feeling your nails along his scalp and down the back of his neck raises goosebumps across his skin. His nipples are sensitive as well, and while he may be shy about you playing with them at first, the feeling is simply too pleasurable to resist. As he starts to realize the full potential of different types of sensations, his foreplay improves exponentially as well- he becomes more adventurous, kissing and gently nipping at your stomach, your inner thighs, anywhere he can reach really.

[y0itsbri]

gallavich week 2021 - day 7 - meet ugly

thank you to @ianandmickeygallavich for the inspo // @gallavichthings

Prompt: Ian and Mickey are neighbors in an apartment complex. They haven’t ever interacted, but one day they get stuck the elevator. One of them doesn’t like confined spaces but doesn’t share this so the other one assumes he is freaking out for no reason.

Words: 3.5k

--

"I'm going out tonight, dickbreath!" Mandy announced, popping her head out of the bathroom. She was wearing a short sequined dress, fitted tightly to her body and only halfway zipped up so it slipped part way down her shoulders.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't!" Mickey called from his recliner in the living room with an Old Style in hand. Work has been absolutely kicking his ass this week and he wanted nothing more than a chill night in.

"Oh, c'mon, now that's no fun. You don't do anything," she accused.

"That's not true!" Mickey grumbled, remote in hand and flicking past some news channels onto some good shit -- finally. Rerun of Jurassic Park.

"What're your plans for the evening then, hot shot?" Mandy teased as she applied yet another layer of mascara on her already blackened eyelashes, "Dinosaur movies all night?"

"Might go to the corner store for some smokes."

"Please get something to eat while you're at it. We have like nothing in here." She waltzed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and grimaced. He could admit that a grocery run was, in fact, long overdue.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Serious, Mick." Mandy gave him the look. The Look being the same Look that his mother used to give him when he was being a little shit.

Fine. "Got it. I'll eat something." She smiled at that.

"Thank youuu," Mandy dragged the word out as she leaned over to kiss his forehead.

"Gross."

"Ditto. Zip me up?"

--

Mandy had headed out awhile ago -- long enough ago that Mickey was now halfway through his second 'dinosaur movie.' He should really visit his dinosaur guy again soon, he's probably got some cool new shit. Mickey sighed and got up, idling over to the kitchen.

He downed a full glass of water and opened the fridge. Yeah, unless he wanted to eat a pickle with ketchup and beer, he needed to go out. He debated ordering in, but he needed to go to the corner store anyways. Two birds one stone kind of situation.

Mickey threw on his favorite pair of sweatpants and his Davie Bowie tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. It was a good shirt. Mickey thought Bowie was hot -- fuckin' alien-looking, but hot, nonetheless.

Mickey shoved his wallet and phone in his pockets and locked up his apartment. Maybe Ernie would have the good roast beef sandwiches today.

His thoughts about dinner plans subsided as he noticed the guy waiting for the elevator.

Mickey had seen the ginger around. He was hard to miss -- fuckin' tall, always going out for runs early in the morning in short shorts and coming back all sweaty, always had a million fucking people coming and going from his apartment. They lived on opposite ends of the hall, but Mickey had never actually spoken to him before.

Mandy had given her brother lots of shit for acting so goddamn unapproachable and that's why he has no friends. Mickey didn't want to be friends with everyone, but he wouldn't mind spending some time with the hot red-head down the hall... eventually.

But he was waiting for the elevator with him right now. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact in fear that it would lead to small talk which would then lead Mickey to inevitably embarrass himself. He couldn't blow his shot. Mandy did the small talk, not him. He took out his phone and scrolled through Instagram even though none of the photos were loading.

He hardly looked up when the elevator arrived and he stepped into it, leaving plenty of space between the two of them. Maybe it was an unreasonable amount of space, but it still wasn't enough for Mickey. He could still smell the guy's cologne. And it was infuriatingly attractive.

"Ground floor?" The man's voice practically sent heat down Mickey's spine. This was going to be a long ride.

"Uh, yeah." Nice, Mick. Not embarrassing at all.

"Great." It hung in the air, a tinge of awkwardness to it.

Out of the corner of his eye Mickey could see the the man leaning against the elevator wall, crossing his ankles as he not-so-subtly stared Mickey's direction.

Mickey was running out of things to check on the his phone and he was about to give in and finally make eye contact when he felt a shift. Then an ungodly clanging of metal. And a stop.

Fuck.

He glanced up at the dial. Sure enough they were stopped between floors, and not at all near the ground.

"The fuck?"

"What?" The red-head locked confused eyes with Mickey's.

"We're stopped. Why the fuck are we stopped?"

"Hm," The guy poked around at the open doors button and nothing happened. "I don't know."

All hopes of positive small talk was out the window as Mickey went into full panic mode. He did not like small, confined spaces -- which happened to be exactly what his current predicament entailed.

"You open the doors!" Mickey practically shrieked.

"Why me!?" The attractive guy spit back.

"You work out and shit -- do I look like I could pry those fuckers apart?"

"Well..." The red-head took a moment to size up Mickey's smaller form. "Yes, you do actually- but these doors are heavy as fuck. We don't have like super strength."

"Fuck you."

"Uh, fuck me!?"

"Yeah, fuck you. Not even tryin' and now we're both going to fuckin' die in here. Any last words, Red?"

He rolled his eyes. "We're not going to die. Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"

"Don't you think you're being a little too calm considering we're stuck?"

"Oh. You're freaking out."

"No shit I'm freaking out, Sherlock." Mickey ran his hands down his face. This was not fucking happening to him right now.

"Hey, take deep breaths."

"Can't. Gonna die." Mickey gasped.

"Well, if you can't breathe, you're definitely going to pass out."

Mickey shot him panicked eyes.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Just look at me."

Mickey could do that.

"Copy me. In-" He inhaled, chest expanding.

"Out-" Mickey felt his breath on his face. In any circumstance, a stranger breathing on him would warrant a punch in the gut, but now it was more grounding than anything else. They repeated that motion a few times.

"Good. See, you can breath."

"What are you? A fuckin' doctor?" Mickey huffed a laugh in disbelief.

"Been to enough," he chuckled.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. But, uh- look, see, I'll hit the emergency button and someone will come get us soon. It'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive. Got stuck in one of these with my sister when I was little, kinda scary at first but we were out in practically no time. She sang to me to pass the time, but I take it you don't want me to sing to you?"

That earned a full-bellied laugh from Mickey, "Not yet."

The man grinned goofily like a golden retriever.

They were silent for a moment.

"So, uh, what's your name?" The red-head asked, gazing curiously at Mickey.

Mickey just stared back at him.

"Your name?" He repeated gently.

"Mickey."

"Mickey," He said it so soft like a prayer. "I like it. I'm Ian."

He had no idea what he expected, but it wasn't Ian. Ian was fitting, though. Ian was good.

--

Ian had hit the emergency button a few times for good measure while Mickey had tried to call Mandy to no success. They settled onto the floor, leaning against opposite walls, feet nearly colliding in the center. Neither made a move to completely avoid that.

After Mickey had calmed down a bit, they fell into bouts of comfortable conversation and comfortable silence.

"I thought you just hated me." Ian mumbled after a bit.

"What I hate is being trapped here." Mickey stared at the walls threatening to enclose around them. He closed his eyes so he didn't start to panic again.

"Even before this."

"Oh?" That was news to Mickey. That was never his intent.

"Yeah, I always see you around, but you never seem to see me." Ian looked to the ground when he said it.

"I've seen ya plenty. You're the dork with the short ass shorts."

Ian smirked, "I guess I am."

"Hard to miss, man."

"You too. I've wanted to say hi for like months, but you always looked like you were ready to snap me in half or something. I kinda like my limbs in tact."

Mickey swiped his thumb against his nose and sniffed, embarrassed, "Sister says I scare everyone away. Used to be a good thing."

"Sister... wait, wait, wait, hold up. You're Mandy's brother, aren't you?"

"You know Mandy? Oh god, you're not banging her, are you?" That would throw a wrench in his plans.

"Oh god, no!" Ian threw his hands up in a mock surrender like that was the most repulsive thing he's ever heard.

"Something wrong with my sister?" Mickey grew defensive. She may be a lot to handle at times, but she was still his sister.

"No, no, she's great! 'm just not into... well, uh- I'm- let's just say that if you had a brother, maybe I'd be banging him." He grimaced.

Watching Ian stumble over his words after being so confident about everything else was a bit amusing.

"Oh -- cool." Mickey wasn't used to such obvious disclosures about sexuality with strangers.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Mickey avoided all eye contact.

"So?"

Ian paused until Mickey was able to look at him again.

"So, what?"

"Do you have any brothers?" A playful flicker in Ian's eyes made it obvious that he was just being a little shit now.

"You're an idiot."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't answer my question still."

"Yeah, I have brothers, but they'd uh- let's just say definitely not be into that."

"And you're... not not into that?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. His lack of denial was basically a confession and they both knew it.

Ian smirked and knocked the toes of their shoes together.

--

Help announced itself to be coming soon over the tiny intercom embedded in the elevator. Sometime shortly after that, Ian had made his way over to the wall next to Mickey's, rather than across.

"Where were you going tonight?" Ian asked, turning to fully face Mickey.

"Nowhere." Nowhere interesting at least.

"Really? So you just take an elevator down to nowhere?"

"Alright, smart ass, I needed to get dinner. Gonna be a late dinner now that's for sure, fuckin' starving."

"Shit."

"What about you? Got a hot date or something?" Mickey eyed him up and down. Ian's outfit wasn't fancy by any means, but he still looked damn good in it.

"Oh, I wish," he winked, "Just going on a walk to clear my head. But this is working just as well."

"Good for you, man. My head is fuller than ever."

"What're you thinking about?" Ian's heavy breath practically bounced off his face. His gaze flickered to Ian's pouting lips. This was ridiculous.

Kissing you. Kissing you. Kissing you. "Nothing."

"Riiiight." Ian's eyes mimicked the same trail that Mickey's had just followed.

"Yup."

Ian scooted closer to Mickey and he swore his heart was beating so loud that even Ian could hear it. If he could, he made no indication. Instead, he eyed Mickey's hand resting on the floor. Gently, careful not to spook him, he caressed Mickey's fingers, nearing his tattooed knuckles.

Mickey fought the urge to yank his hand away. No one ever touched him so delicately, so sweetly. He figured that Ian would have guessed that, seeing his crude tattoos, but he wasn't acting like this was strange. So Mickey let him.

"Fuckin' hate them." Mickey murmured, watching Ian's fingertips tracing over the back of his hand.

Ian frowned.

"The tattoos."

"They're you. I'm sure they have a story."

"Wish I could forget it."

"If it makes you feel any better, I have a pair of tits on my shoulder."

"Ex-fucking-cuse me?!" Mickey pictured literal tits growing out of the man's back.

"Here, look," Ian turned, pulling his shirt up, revealing an insanely toned and insanely freckled back. Surely he was not about to be flashed in an elevator. But sure enough, tattooed on his shoulder was a pair of double-D's.

"Shit! Dude, what the fuck is up with that?" Mickey laughed.

Yeah, this made him feel better. At least he didn't have fucking titties tattooed on his knuckles, though he was sure someone in his family must have something like that. They're fucking idiots like that. Like Ian, apparently. But Ian was good.

"It was supposed to be my mom." Ian winced, pulling his shirt back down to cover it again.

"Mom must've been a banger." Mickey joked, still hardly containing his laughter.

"Ugh," Ian groaned dramatically. "Never gonna live that one down."

He threw his hands back on the ground, near Mickey's but not touching this time.

Experimentally and slowly, so slowly, Mickey hooked his fingers with Ian's and rubbed his thumb against Ian's hand. It was calloused, but so soft. It was a movement so gentle he hardly recognized himself, completely contradictory to the message literally written across his hands.

He was practically holding hands with a man in an elevator. Oh, if dear dad could see him now.

Moving out of his hell house with Mandy had been a good step, but it had taken Mickey years to unlearn his self-hate, allow himself to be. He still wasn't perfect, and he still felt years behind. But with Ian, it felt normal. It felt right and warm.

Right then, he felt the elevator shift again. He tightened his grip on Ian's hand. Ian returned the hold. If he was going to die, at least he wasn't going to die alone.

Mickey realized that they weren't falling down, but rather moving upwards.

They released their hands and leapt up to their feet as the door dinged open, revealing a small staff of maintenance personnel, not looking at all concerned that two men had just been trapped inside for an unspecified amount of time.

"Fuckin' finally!" Mickey ran out. He resisted the urge to drop to the floor and kiss the ground. He was dramatic, but he wasn't that dramatic.

Ian thanked the maintenance people then hurried along beside Mickey. They weren't on their floor, but they sure as hell weren't about to take the elevator again after all that.

"Hey, Mickey, wanna come back to my place? I think I still have some leftover lasagna if you're still hungry."

Mickey checked the time. Yeah, Ernie's place was definitely closed by now. Plus he really did just want to go back to Ian's. He glanced up to see Ian in almost full puppy-dog eyes. The dork was needlessly persuasive, he'd give him that.

"Yeah, sure. I could eat." He grinned like an idiot.

Ian nodded his head towards the stairwell, holding the door open for Mickey, who obediently followed up the steps.

--

Ian's apartment wasn't too different than Mickey and Mandy's, mirrored and maybe smaller, but it looked oddly inviting and definitely way more lived in -- almost too much décor and family photos hung up around the space.

"Uh, make yourself comfortable," Ian called as he rummaged through the cabinets, grabbing a couple plates to reheat some food for Mickey and himself.

Mickey was no stranger to feigning confidence in unfamiliar locations, but this felt different, more genuine. He actually respected Ian, the man having been kind and patient with him in a less than ideal situation.

He sat himself on the barstool at Ian's countertop and watched him. The gorgeous man who he had been eyeing in secret for months, who had helped him through a small panic attack, who had held his hand and traced his tattoos like they were art. Like Mickey was art.

"So, Bowie, huh?" Ian leaned against the counter, waiting out the timer on the microwave.

"What?"

"Your shirt," he pointed, and Mickey looked down.

"Oh, yeah. He's cool as fuck. Dope music."

"Got great hair, too."

"You would think so."

"Self-love, baby."

"Good for you." But there was no edge in his voice.

Ian smiled. The microwave beeped and they settled in, eating together with nothing but the awkward clanging of silverware and chewing. Mickey was too fucking starving and too fucking tired to care about formalities to give a shit at this point.

"Bet you didn't think you'd spend your night eating lasagna with a David Bowie look-alike, huh?" Ian teased over a mouthful of pasta.

"You wish, man."

"Hey, it's at least a little true."

"Yeah, you're both fuckin' aliens."

"Maybe so, but at least we're hot."

They both smiled around their forks, glancing over at each other a little too frequently with nothing but fondness.

--

Ian collected their plates when they were done, taking them over to the sink to wash them later. Mickey got up and followed him into the center of the kitchen, still sipping on his beer before setting it on the counter to his right.

In a move that shocked Ian, and even himself, Mickey moved into Ian's space and pressed his chest against Ian's back. He wrapped his arms around Ian's waist, feeling up the plains and softness of his stomach, feeling his breath hitch and his heart beat faster. Mickey's warm breath bounced off of Ian's neck and back onto his own face.

Ian sighed and placed his hands over Mickey's again. He leaned his head back onto Mickey's shoulder for a moment before wiggling free from Mickey's grip enough to turn around and face him, carding one of his hands through Mickey's dark hair.

"Mickey." He said it so soft. With so much admiration. Mickey couldn't take it anymore. He leaned up and pulled Ian's head down so they were the same height.

"Fuck, c'mere," he murmured, lips practically touching Ian's with the words.

Ian pressed their lips together. For all his gentle touches throughout the night, his kiss was anything but. Like he needed him to breathe.

Ian pushed him backwards towards the living room, stumbling over each others' feet in the process. Mickey greedily pulled down on Ian's neck, desperate not to let him go. Ian smiled into it and dropped backwards onto the couch cushions, pulling Mickey on top of him, making out like dumb teenagers.

--

Eventually, they settled and Mickey rested his head on Ian's chest while Ian rubbed his back and head comfortingly. Truthfully, he was beginning to panic a bit. He hadn't liked anyone in awhile, and Ian was very hard to not like.

"Are you good?"

Fuckin' mind reader.

"I don't know." Smooth, Mick.

"You don't know what?" Ian probed gently.

Mickey sighed, "How to do this," he answered honestly. There was no point in lying to Ian.

Ian kissed Mickey's forehead, "We can do this any way you want, alright? No rush, no pressure."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely," Ian scratched Mickey's head for a moment, "I've been waiting for you for awhile, Mick, I'll wait for however long you want."

Mickey leaned into his touch and then kissed his shoulder, "I want you, this."

"Me too." They smiled into each other. Safe together.

--

Neither made a move to push things further for the night. Ian had flicked on the tv to the same channel Mickey had on earlier, the Jurassic Park marathon still playing. After whatever movie was on now, Mickey decided he should head home. He was utterly exhausted after the day, and as much as he liked Ian, he didn't want to pass out in the guy's apartment -- though he was sure Ian wouldn't mind at this point, kind bastard.

After Ian had pulled Mickey into one last embrace, Mickey wretched open Ian's door, only to come face to face with his sister, makeup smudged and heels in hand after her night out.

She gasped way louder than fucking necessary, "You slut!"

"Shut the fuck up," he grumbled pushing past her to head back to his own apartment.

"See ya later, Mick!" Ian called down the hall. Mickey didn't respond, but Ian took no offense. To be fair, he had just been caught red-handed by his very dramatic bitch of a sister.

Mandy grinned and looked between Mickey's retreating form and Ian's blushing face. "Oh my god, Ian! I knew it!"

"Hi, Mands." He ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck.

She gave a cheeky, knowing wave goodbye and took off barefoot after Mickey, "You fucker! I want all the details!"

"You ain't gettin' 'em, bitch!" He stormed inside, but left the door open for her behind him.

Mandy threw her shoes on the floor and met up with him in the kitchen, punching his arm lazily so he spilled his newly-opened beer down his hand. "The fuck?!"

"I'm so proud of you!" She made grabby hands at Mickey in attempts to smush his cheeks, but he weaseled out of there quick enough to avoid her gross hands. She may be fuckin' drunk, but she was still quick.

"Yeah, will well ya stop screaming it from the rooftops. Ian's gonna think I'm a fuckin' loser."

"Awww," She chased after him as he headed down the hall, "You are a loser, but that's besides the point! I've been waiting for this for weeks!"

"Night!" Mickey shut his bedroom door in Mandy's face. She'd get over it in a minute. Hell she was probably well on her way to passing out already. Maybe she'd get some details out of him tomorrow.

But tonight -- he reveled in the fact that he spent the night making out with his very kind, very dorky, very hot red-headed neighbor.

--

And when Mandy eventually moved out from their apartment and in with her girlfriend, Mickey had absolutely no problem finding a new red-headed roommate.

[sysmedsaresexist]

(Thank you)

1. Can you be a system with absolutely no idea what caused you to split? Or to not be aware of your trama at all?

I’ve only very recently come to terms with the fact that I have trauma and haven’t done any work on it yet. I don’t have an event I can point to and go “this traumatized me.”

2. What does it feel like to have an alter front?

3. Are systems usually aware they’re a system before they’re diagnosed?

4. Do alters always know what they look like beforehand? Previously I thought alters knew everything about themselves but one of the answers I got mentioned hosts sometimes helping to figure out names.

I'm curious what kind of answers you've gotten to these so far that made you seek us out, of all people, lol

1. Can you be a system with absolutely no idea what caused you to split? Or to not be aware of your trama at all?

Absolutely, both of these scenarios are not only possible, but completely normal. We're going to switch these around and talk about them in the opposite order, starting with, "not aware of trauma at all". The purpose of a system is to hide trauma. When you're young and going through traumatic situations, and you dissociate, what usually happens is one of two things. Either the child mentally goes away (dissociates, imagining being in a different situation, ignoring what's happening to them in the moment), or they imagine actually being someone else ("this isn't happening to me, it's happening to someone else, I'm (fuck it, uh) Zoro, and I, Zoro, can handle this"). Both of these scenarios lay the groundwork for the creation of a system, and both cases lead to the loss of memory of traumatic events when a child experiences that extreme level of dissociation over prolonged periods.

What this means is, there is no one event that creates a system. It's event, after event, after event, until the child can no longer form a cohesive sense of self. They've become too reliant on dissociation as a coping mechanism, these dissociated parts have taken on a life of their own, and a child's identity has become so fractured and they're so confused that they can't tell who or what they are, and the memories of why are scattered between these parts.

It's not as easy as pointing to an event and saying, "That was it. That was what happened, that's what did this to me-- to us."

This sort of plays in to the next point of, "why did a specific alter split." And this can apply to childhood, later, hell, today, ten years ago, fifteen years from now. It's not always as easy as pointing to a specific event for each alter, either. Some alters take months and years after an event to come forward and make themselves known. This can make pinning down their "origin" almost impossible. What made them could have happened a long time ago. Sometimes it's not a specific event, but a combination of several events, just like in childhood. Are your parents always fighting? Maybe, by the tenth time they're blowing up at each other and you're curled up in your room trying to ignore it, a part finally splits to help you handle that stress. It wasn't specifically the tenth fight-- it was the combination of ALL of the fights.

2. What does it feel like to have an alter front?

This depends. I'm old. I've experienced a lot of different feelings when someone else fronts. When I was kid, it sometimes felt like I was asleep. No memories of it, just blissful darkness, no real time loss, things would go dark for what felt like ten minutes, and then I'd be back, several hours later, barely even realizing I had missed an entire day. I also had pretty bad maladaptive daydreaming, and sometimes I would go into my daydreams while another alter took over. I just thought this was normal. I was just REALLY good at multi-tasking, you know?

When I got older, and I learned more about what was happening, sometimes it would feel like a battle to the death-- two of us fighting desperately for front. Sometimes it honestly felt like a punch to the head-- a knock out when I lost, unpleasant darkness, fear, anxiety, what was I going to come back to? Other times, when I won, I was left with a massive headache and exhausted. Sometimes I welcomed the break, and over time, it became easier. It became like watching things happen through a foggy window. Sometimes I wanted to do something, and I couldn't, and sometimes I felt helpless and lost. As communication got better, I could see more clearly, I could ask for things to happen, I could occasionally... steal a moment, use a hand, set something straight on the counter that was bothering me.

When an alter fronts, it can feel like a lot of things, depending on the situation, depending on communication levels. There's no "one way" or "right way".

3. Are systems usually aware they’re a system before they’re diagnosed?

I would say, in the age of the internet, it's more likely than not that someone is aware they're potentially a system, than it is for them to be completely unaware at the time of diagnosis. Before the internet, before you could just google symptoms, a lot of people weren't aware prior to diagnosis. Even these days, it's not unheard of for someone to only find out around the time of diagnosis, because you don't always realize you're losing time, or have amnesia. Your alters aren't always so completely different that the people around you notice and point it out. The entire point of this disorder is for it to be unnoticeable. It really just depends on the person, their exposure to information about the disorders, and how bad their dissociation is. Some know, some don't. Some go seeking therapy for help with other issues and eventually it just comes out over time that you have something else going on. Sometimes you suspect, and you go to therapy specifically for it. It's different for everyone.

4. Do alters always know what they look like beforehand? Previously I thought alters knew everything about themselves but one of the answers I got mentioned hosts sometimes helping to figure out names.

Not at all. It's actually really common for alters to be... essentially blank slates in the beginning. Let's look at the example above, of the child dissociating out of a bad situation. If they're going away into their daydreams, the body is essentially left unattended. Any alter that forms in that moment could considered to be "blank" at the start. In the other scenario, you know who Zoro is, what they look like, what they like and dislike, what their history is. It doesn't even need to be a character you know of, maybe you, like me, had MaDD, and you'd become one of your characters, your OCs. I had one.

She was strong and had superpowers and was beautiful and confident-- and that was one of my first alters. I imagined being her often enough that I could eventually take the other route, disappear into my mind while she handled it herself (this was totally normal multi-tasking, apparently). She knew who and what she was right off the bat. What she looked like, her history, her personality. In the first scenario, that alter may or may not come up with that information on their own. They may remain blank until communication is good, and then they might start to grow, maybe you do help them find a name, maybe they find it years later on their own. Again, there's no "one way". It depends on the circumstances.

-

You sent a second ask with some more questions, and I think this leads into the next one.

Is it normal for an alter to feel more comfortable in the body than the original host?

Like, you look in a mirror and you think “yeah this is [alter name]” Not really as a negative or positive feeling, just a neutral and true one. Being trans (or mistaking the presence of a different gender alter [the alter in question] for it?) might also effect this.

This can happen, yes! In the case of my OC/alter, of course she looked like me. She was everything I wanted to be when I was a child. She can look in the mirror and say, yup, definitely me. This is what I've always looked like, and I'm perfection.

I have another alter that just... isn't bothered by appearance. He looks in the mirror and it's like, "yup, I guess so, cool -finger guns-"

There's a lot of reasons some alters might be more comfortable in the body than others, and they're all totally normal.

-

And finally. The last question:

What is a tupla?

This is, surprisingly, a very loaded question.

First, right off the bat, the use of the term tulpa is cultural appropriation. I don't claim to be an expert, but to put it simply. The actual practice of tulpamancy is nothing, NOTHING, like what it's being used for in system circles. Here's a really, REALLY good post on how it's been twisted from the original practice and westernized.

The more accepted terms in system circles are willogenic, parogenic, and thoughtforms. These are "headmates" that are intentionally created. They're imaginary friends brought to life through meditation and practice. Some systems claim to be DID/OSDD and say they've intentionally created some alters, making them "mixed origin" (it's more likely that someone has convinced themselves that it was intentional and their choice in an attempt to feel a sense of control over their situation). Some endogenic systems claim to have intentionally created their entire system (which, because on the levels of dissociation needed to create alters, I don't believe is possible without a traumatic origin).

I hope this all helps, I hope it all made sense, if you have more questions, let me know!