#i live next to the fucking ocean for gods sake

[primrosebitch]

I am so sensitive to dry weather and i hate it, like one time when i was visiting family in the mountains i got a nosebleed every night and i used up like an entire box of tissues for the like 3 days i was there, i had saturated an entire box of tissues in my blood that visit, and where i live has been going through a bit of a dry period (for some godforsaken reason, it's never been like this before) and while it wasn't/isn't as dry as the mountains i had still gotten a bloody nose every night for around a week at the worst of it

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[lovelytsunoda]

954 // logan sargeant

summary: florida man fucks shy college girl. or, back home in fort lauderdale y/n’s welcome home party is sabotaged by her race winner brother, and it gives her a bit of a complex. at least her brothers best friend is there to make her feel better about it.

pairing: logan sargeant x female kirkwood! reader

warnings: straight up smut, kyle kirkwood is a lot to handle in large doses (but we love him anyways), feelings of anxiety, minor sibling rivalry, body image issues. i am going to hell, littered with spelling mistakes because of how fast I was typing and pure laziness to go back and fix it

author's note: 954 is the area code for fort lauderdale. and technically kyle kirkwood lives in jupiter, but for the sake of the story let's pretend he's also from lauderdale.

she sat at the edge of the pier, jeans rolled up past her shins as she started off into the horizon, watching the sun dip below the ocean line.

“it’s your party, what are you doing out here alone?”

she rolled her eyes, pulling her feet out of the water before following the voice. “why do you think? kyle hijacked it. I’m back home for less than a day and he’s already stealing the spotlight again.”

that was the way it always went in the kirkwood household: y/n came home from school, and everything was great, and then kyle waltzes in and suddenly everything is about him again.

logan shook his head, settling onto the pier next to her, a gentle hand resting on her thigh. she shrugged it off, anxiously twisting one of the rings on her hand.

“you know he doesn’t do it on purpose, right?” logan soothed “he loves you, and he hates that you feel like this.”

“i know. the inferiority complex is all me.”

“it’s not a complex, and your feelings are valid.”

she shook her head. “everyone tells me i shouldn’t have quit karting. even when it made me hate myself.”

she sighed, laying down on the pier, worn wood scratching at her skin, but not splintering against her baby pink tank top. “what am I doing with my life, logan?”

“hey, look at me.” logan encouraged, fingertips against her chin to angle her face towards him. “you are doing great things. deans list every semester, you’re a great artist and I’d be shocked if firms weren’t lining up to hire you as a litigator.”

“you’re just saying that.” she refused to meet his eyes. logan was kyles best friend, for god sakes. she’d crumble under his stare, his touch.

“but I’m not.” logan insisted, gripping her face now, making her look at him. she needed to know how wonderful she was, and he was going to be the one to tel her. “you are smart and funny and all kinds of wonderful, kirkwood. any guy would be lucky to have you, and anyone else should consider themselves blessed to have you as a friend.”

“you really mean that?”

“why would I lie to you, y/n?”

she barely had time to respond before logans lips were on hers. she was hesitant at first, unsure if logan really knew what he was doing. unsure if he was really kissing her because he wanted to or because he pitied her.

the intrusive thoughts didn’t stay long, however, as she snapped to attention and moved her lips against his, wrapping her body around his.

“jesus.” logan breathed. “those jeans make your ass look incredible. well, your ass always looks incredible, but these jeans are really doing it for me.”

she laughed at how red logan's face was, a shade that looked more salmon under the sunset. the pier was digging into her skin, and she was starting to get uncomfortable, logan's lips along her neck not quite enough to distract from the discomfort of what she was sure would become a splinter if their activities were not relocated.

somehow they made it to her bedroom without being discovered by the partygoers, much less kyle. the fairy lights tacked to her dusty pink walls were the only light in the room as logan backed her up against her bookshelf, securely caging her body against his.

she felt safe in logan's arms. protected.

"i've been crazy about you for years now." logan growled in between kisses. "every night i came over to watch panthers games with your brother, and you were there in those tight little jean shorts, laughing and giggling with your friends. or when i'd stay the night and you'd walk past his bedroom door to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night, your skimpy silk top falling down your shoulder just enough to give me a taste of your gorgeous body. do you know how many times i've jerked off to the thought of you in kyle's bathroom? you're stunning, y/n. don't let anybody tell you otherwise."

her mind was reeling, and she couldn't find the proper words as she tugged at the collar of logan's button down shirt, pressing her lips back to his. logan sargeant was interested in her.

logan saw her for her, not just as kyle kirkwood's baby sister.

clothes were shed, buttons ripped off shirts. her head was spinning, elated and giddy and she couldn't find the words to tell logan how incredible she felt as his large hands squeezed her breasts over the mesh padding of her bralette.

she gasped, logan taking that chance to slip his tongue into her mouth, his fingers grappling for the clasp on her bra.

all at once, reality came crashing back down on her. she pulled away, hands flying up to cover her exposed breasts as the pale fabric tumbled to the hardwood floor.

she wouldn't meet logan's eyes, scared to know what he thought of her naked body. scared to see him stare at her and not know what he was thinking.

his eyes softened, the lust drawing back as concern seeped in to his irises. "y/n, pretty girl, you don't need to hide yourself around me. who made you think that you weren't sexy as all hell? i never want you feel like you have to be shy around me."

he gently gripped her arms, guiding her towards the wall length mirror hanging on the back of the ensuite door. logan stood behind her, lifting her chin so that she would meet his eyes in the mirror. placing his hands over hers, he gently pulled her palms off her breasts, exposing her bare torso to the soft lighting in the room.

"look at you beautiful you are, y/n. i'm serious."

"you're just saying that so you can get your dick wet." even as she said it, she knew it didn't sound like she meant it.

but even still, staring at herself in the mirror, all she could focus on was the way that she looked: the stretch marks on her breasts, the smattering of freckles up her arms (or were they moles, like the two on her back?).

"what will it take to show you how sexy you are, y/n?" logan rasped, undoing the button on her jeans. "should i make you watch yourself as i touch you?"

"yeah." her voice was shaky. "i think you should show me how sexy i am. clearly, i need reminding." where was this sudden boldness coming from?

"that;s my sexy, shy girl." logan cooed, tugging her jeans down her legs, kissing over her ass and down her leg before coming back up, eyes hungry at the sight of the young woman in front of him, panties hiked high on her hips and fairly see through as he slipped a hand over teh fabric and between her legs, teasing at the dampness beginning to form.

she gasped as logan slicked up his fingers, slipping them inside of her in one swift movement, working around the fabric of her cheeky panties. she was breathing hard, biting her bottom lip as she took in the sight in the mirror: logan's fingers flexing in and out of her, arousal running over his pale skin, his face contorted in concentration as he growled down her ear, telling her how tight she felt, and how good she was for him.

her own skin was rosy and flushed, a sheen of sweat beginning ro form as she felt her body heating up. there was something sinful about watching herself in the mirror, finally allowing herself to let loose a moan.

"that's my girl. don't get shy on me now, i want to know that you feel as good as i do." logan groaned, sucking on her neck. "touch me, baby. i know you want to. feel how fucking hard i am for you."

she loosened her grip on logan's wrist, internally grinning at the nail marks that she left behind in his skin before slipping an arm behind her, cupping his bulge in her hand.

she was floored. she knew logan was big (she could always see the outline in his swim shorts, forcing herself to stop staring before he noticed) but knowing that she had this effect on him?

it was a powerful thing.

"jesus, logan." she whined. "i need it inside of me."

logan's eyes sparkled. "what do you need inside of you, sweetheart? i need you to say it for me." he started pumping his fingers faster, his other hand moving to fondle her left breast, tweaking the rosy bud of her nipple between his fingers.

she sighed heavily, feeling her legs turn mushy as she leaned back against logan. "need your cock." she mumbled, unsure if she could speak any louder.

"what was that, darling? don't be shy now, i can't give you what you need if you don't tell me, love."

fuck you, she thought, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. she was clenching around his fingers now, unsure of hoe much longer she'd be able to last. but she needed him inside of her, felt like she might die if he wasn't.

"your cock!" she shouted. "please, logan, i need your big cock inside me, please, god, i need it."

why did she say that? she should never have said that. it made her sound desperate. but in a way, she was desperate, wasn't she?

logans fingers stopped their ministrations, pulling out of her and taking a trail of her juices with them. she thought her eyes were going to roll back in her head before logan laid her down on her queen bed, her hair fanning out behind her as he started to undo his jeans, resort shirt still hanging off his frame, face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat as he licked her arousal off his fingers.

"do you have condoms, kirkwood? because i really don't want to have to go digging for them in kyle's room."

"please don't talk about my brother when i want you to fuck my brains out."

logan smirked. "not so shy now, are we, my sexy girl."

"shut up! go the ensuite, top vanity drawer on the left. you literally cannot miss the box."

she could have laughed, lying back on the bed and kicking off her panties as logan ran, half naked and dropping his resort shirt behind him, to the ensuite.

he stumbled back, tripping over discarded clothes and the fluffy carpet, triumphantly holding the box above his head.

"the whole box? how much do you think you're getting tonight, sarge?"

logan raised an eyebrow. "call me that, and i'm going to make you forget how shy you are and have you scream my name all night long."

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Summer Fling Part 2/10

Part 1 Part 3

Summary - Reader has landed a research job at a marine biology lab in Portugal. She is, therefore, staying with her sister and her sister's Portuguese boyfriend for the summer holidays. There, she meets Ruben Dias, who is on vacation with his friends after the 2024 Euros. However, the two meet under the circumstances in which Ruben believes that Reader is a prostitute.

Enjoy! ☀️

Who would have thought that after a night out and several rounds of drinks, you still weren't able to turn your sleep schedule around. Apparently, you left Australia, but Australia refused to leave you, resulting in another night of laying on your back and admiring the sealing.

"Fuck, Diogo!"

"Right there!"

"Yes, right there!"

"Ohhhh God!"

However, even if you did turn your sleep schedule around, falling asleep to the sounds of your sister getting her back blown by her boyfriend would've simply been impossible.

"Yes, Diogo. Yeeees!"

You covered your ears with your hands and prayed for better times. But when that didn't work, you got out of bed, hopped in the shower, and left the house.

Diogo didn't live too far from the city of Albufeira. You and your sister were too drunk to make it back to Faro last night. Staying with him was the most convenient thing to do. You made it back downtown by hopping on a train. However, there wasn't much to see in the morning since it was still early hours. Street sweepers were seen cleaning up the aftermath of last night's partying, and soon tourists and their family's would make their way down the white sandcastle hills, exploring another day in paradise.

"One ticket to the Zoomarine, please."

You got pretty bored of lounging around the streets like a hungover hobo. The next best thing to do was to buy a ticket to the Algarve Zoomarine, a water park with live dolphin shows and displays of marine life. As a kid, you used to love visiting these types of places in Australia. However, after years of education, you saw these places for what they really were. Animal crime scenes.

You sat in on one of the dolphin shows but couldn't last ten minutes before abandoning your seat. It was simply a disgrace to see those poor animals forced to do tricks and interact with humans. All for the sake of being given fish as a treat.

"They're pretty amazing, no? Those blue puffer fish."

You came to mourn the Portuguese marine life while admiring a giant aquarium. When suddenly, a man, blonde and blue eyes, startled you. Even more so when he spoke to you with an Australian accent.

"Yes, amazing indeed." You said. "But these puffer fish should be set free in the wild, not swim around in some aquarium pool in the middle of a tourist trap."

"I don't know...." The man scratched the cap he wore on top of his head. If you hadn't been so full of yourself, you might have noticed that the text on his cap read: Algarve marine life rescue and research. "Setting these bad boys free in the wild might be more dangerous than it is for us to keep them here," the man said.

"That doesn't make any sense. All animals should be set free to live in their natural habitat."

"Well, that I agree." He smiled. "However, these particular puffer fishes are used to help produce antidotes for tetrodotoxin. It's actually ongoing research."

"You're a marine biologist?" You frowned.

The man's smile widened. "Most of us working at the park are. If not in the ocean, the best place to house our underwater friends is surprisingly in this water park."

"Oh." Heat rose to your face.

"I'm glad to see a fellow animal activist, though. Whereabouts are you from? I know an Aussie accent when I hear one."

"Sydney." You blushed. "I'm from Sydney Australia."

"Brisbane." The man offered you his hand. You shook it vigorously.

"Are you just here for the summer holidays or...?" The man's accent was suddenly flourishing.

"Yes and no. I'm actually a marine biologist myself."

"Are you now?" He regarded you curiously, his smile even wider now, which you didn't think possible.

"Well, I'm still doing my masters in marine ecology. That's actually why I'm here in Portugal this summer, to finish my research in a lab not too far from here."

"In Faro?"

"How did you know?"

"Well, I believe it's the only known marine biology lab in the Algarve region."

"Really?"

"Yes, at least the only known lab that would take on a young woman like yourself. The other labs consist of snobby middle-aged men who wouldn't care to advocate for the innocent life of puffer fishes."

"Interesting. I must have gotten lucky then."

"I doubt it. I pick my students carefully. Your research portfolio must have been stellar."

"Wait—"

The man removed the cap from his head, revealing his bleach blonde hair and surprisingly young face. "I'm Gavin Philips, and I believe to be your lab partner for this summer."

"Lab....partner?" You hesitated to shake the man's hand again, however, he insisted.

"Labpartner, examinator, professor....most students just call me Gavin."

"Gavin."

"Yes, and what might your name be?"

"Erm...it's Y/N."

"Pleasure meeting you Y/N. I look forward to working with you this summer."

"Erm...thank you."

What a coincidence, you thought, during your train ride home. To meet the man with the power to decide your future as a marine biologist was definitely not on your summer bingo card. He seemed like a nice guy, though. And you had the Australia connection, which was perhaps a good thing, knowing how things could get when working in a male dominated setting. You were in need of an ally, and Gavin Phillips might just be the right guy for the job.

"There she is! Y/N, where the hell have you been all day?"

You were welcomed back by your sister and Diogo, both looking dressed for a day at the beach. Diogo, with his mountains for muscles, carried several bags from the house to his car, a luxurious Range Rover.

"What do you mean? It's barely noon." You said.

"Yes, but Diogo is taking us to Lagos today. Didn't I tell you that?"

"No, no you didn't."

"Well, I'm telling you now. Go pack your bags and don't forget to pack an extra pair of G-strings."

"Great."

You were set for another day in party paradise. However, five days had passed since your flight from Sydney, and you still hadn't gotten an ounce of a proper night's sleep.

Part 1 Part 3

[blacklegsanjiii]

•°♤°• Read a Zosan fic where every single male (Except for the male Strawhats; compliments here and there) is attracted to Sanji and I'm so here for that. But think, what would happen if this thing happened in the ASL x Sanji or God AU? That would be so fuking funny and hilarious that alot of men are down bad for this beautiful blond cook with blue eyes with muscular legs and a gable waist.

I would also like to add for the God au that before Sanji lost his godly status and life, he placed the inability to all DF users to be unable to swim. This is their punishment because of what the WG did to the gods (Ex: Sabo, Ace, and Luffy).

First: Yeah, Sanji was fucking pissed and absolutely told the Elders and the World Government to get fucked during the void century and wrapped his most prized creations, amalgamations with the god of life, taking the ability to swim away. If they want to fuck with the gods the gods will fuck right back. Sanji was more than giving, he gave far more than he was worshipped which led to his followers always singing their praises to the ocean, so after the void century his followers were distraught to find the fruits, now called devil fruits because if you eat one you have betrayed the ocean, betrayed him. He is a god who forgives easily, you just need to give it back, it only costs your life. His partners had never seen the god so enraged because he used to bestow fruits to those were so utterly devoted to him or his fellow gods. Now? It doesn't matter if all three of his husbands have eaten a fruit, Ace and Sabo were old enough to remember what happened, Luffy might not have been but it doesn't matter, they do not get leeway either. It's probably a really fucking dark joke he makes despite how often he does save them, just grins at them and says he could always get his fruits back if they want to swim so bad. Sabo didn't eat a fruit in this from what I can find so Sabo spears Sanji overboard quite a bit to avoid his brothers.

I did read that fic as well I think? But like could you imagine the crew are meeting the other gods for whatever reason(how much do you think it would fuck with the romance dawn trio if Buggy was a god? Or the Cross Guild and Shanks?) And a lot of the gods and others are just flirting with Sanji. Nothing new, he's a handsome guy. He is married though, he has the marks from his godly spouses claiming him just as they do from him. Buggy is ruffling their hair and avoiding Luffy because he can't play nice with the god of luck and travelers in this life. Buggy looks at Zoro and just goes 'oh no, poor baby' and does nothing to fix his sense of direction because Buggy is a trickster god, tell me otherwise. Sanji is of course used to striking deals with the clown in past lives for the wayward travelers but also Buggy redirects so many gods from Sanji and tells the blond to quit being born pretty and Sanji rolls his eyes.

There's gods left and right grabbing Sanji and Buggy is sending body parts whenever Zoro and Luffy are distracted by some other god of whatever as they plan their assault on the Elders. The crews are fucking weirded out by the sheer godly power in front of them and how close the gods are to each other. Also Mihawk has to be digging deep into himself to find out the weakling of the Roger pirates is the god of luck and travelers and distracting so many gods from his normal waiter from Baratie who is the god of the ocean. Also Buggy keeps riling up Luffy and splitting apart to escape the sun god. Also he distinctly remembers Ace showing off his godly body at Marineford and watches him shoot off with the blond a few times. Sabo, the chief of staff for the revolutionaries for heaven's sake straight up attacks several gods for getting too handsy with his husband. Mihawk calls Shanks later and asks if he knew Buggy was a god like Luffy or Ace and the silence from Shanks on the other end of the denden is very telling as Crocodile is screaming next to him about how many gods there are and the strawhat crew has. This is a true test of will for them.

(I just had to make buggy the god of luck and travelers it's so him I'm not sorry)

[a-little-unsteddie]

Admiring the Ocean

I promise this is fluffier than the last thing I posted. Kinda. It gets there, in the end. Enjoy!

———

Eddie was never what anyone would consider a ‘quiet kid’. He did everything so loudly — so himself — and without reservation. It’s one of the things that Wayne insisted he loved most about him. He didn’t hold back, ever, and Wayne thought that kind of being, that kind of loving, was beautiful.

Unfortunately, the world would not agree with Wayne Munson, because Eddie was only eight when he first started getting into Dungeons and Dragons. Someone at school had lent him a guidebook, and he had taken it home to read. Occasionally, when he read something particularly intriguing, he would turn to his dad and repeat exactly what he learned. At first, he got patient smiles and nods. Then his dad would roll his eyes before turning to listen. Eventually, he would audibly scoff as Eddie required his attention. This would lead to his dad eventually growling out, “For god’s sake boy, shut the fuck up before I make you.”

That would be the first time that Eddie learned that sometimes he was too loud.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

Eddie was ten when he came home to tell his dad about his crush. He was ten when he learned that he should be quiet about that part of himself. He was ten when he was almost killed for loving a boy. He was ten when he left to live with his Uncle Wayne. He was ten when he decided he wouldn’t talk anymore. He was too loud.

It didn’t last, however. It lasted about as long as his uncle found out he decided to stop talking. It lasted maybe two hours. And then his uncle was telling him that there was nothing wrong with him. That the way he loved was magnificent, so completely and irrevocably perfect. It would take longer for Eddie to believe it. To embrace it.

Even then, though. Eddie decided he would love boys quietly. From a distance. He knew it was dangerous for him to love openly. So he didn’t. He made every other part of himself so loud it drowned out anything else. No one noticed the quiet yearning Eddie felt. He hid it from everyone.

Well.

He tried to hide it from everyone.

But Wayne must have known, must have been told, must have somehow seen, because he took Eddie close one day and whispered into his ear gentle reassurances.

“I know. I know, it’s okay. It’s okay to love boys, y’hear me?” Wayne had gruffly spoken, firm but quiet. “I know it’s scary, but it is okay. You are allowed to love boys. I love you. You are mine, y’hear me, boy? My son. And you can love whoever you want.”

Eddie still hid it. He just hid it with Wayne, letting his uncle hear about whoever he liked. He couldn’t help it, really. But other than that, he was quiet. He never showed signs in public. He was still loud, but he used it as a cover. He used it as a shield. Threw himself into being so wholly and unequivocally himself so that he could watch, yearn, admire from afar. Used his speeches at lunch to give himself a chance to look at whatever pretty boy had captured his attention.

Eddie loved pretty boys.

He did so quietly, observing from afar, content to love them from his mind, doing nothing to show for it besides the occasional longing look. He never expected any of them to love him back, how could he? Loving them was never about getting loved in return — no one expected a sunset to watch them back. He was happy doing what he was doing.

And no boy was as pretty as Steve Harrington.

Loving Steve Harrington wasn’t something that Eddie had expected. It had happened suddenly, without a warning. Eddie had been unaware of the fact in one moment, one breath, and in the next one, Eddie knew he would love Steve Harrington until he died, probably. He also knew he would do so silently. The one thing about himself he would ever do quietly. He watched as Steve healed and became more himself, admiring the way that he had been building muscle strength. He watched the gentle happiness return to Steve, how it radiated from inside of him and brightened the entire room. He was breathtaking. Still, Eddie loved without expectation. Without planning to tell anyone. Other than Wayne. Wayne heard it all.

Heard about the way Eddie is certain he could create constellations if he concentrated hard enough on the moles and freckles dotted across his skin. He heard of the way Steve’s laugh brings a smile to anyone who’s around to hear, the noise so gentle and fond it’s impossible to ignore. The way that Eddie is convinced that Steve was art, a sculpture carved from stone, appearing soft and forgiving, but actually sharper than he lets on.

Except.

Eddie got comfortable. When Eddie got comfortable, his self preservation goes down, apparently. Eddie and Steve were hanging out, and Steve was looking at Eddie curiously, searching for something. Eddie wasn’t scared of what he was looking for — at first. Then, the longer Steve looked at him, eyes growing ever fonder, Eddie realized what Steve was looking for. Maybe not what he was looking for, exactly, but what Steve had found. Eddie was terrified of whatever it could be.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asked, looking at Eddie in soft confusion. Not accusatory, just curious. Worried, maybe. It soothed Eddie enough to just start talking.

“I learned from a young age that sometimes I love things too loudly,” Eddie started, unsure where he was going until the words were spilling out, “But I still loved so much. Everything. Dungeons and dragons, art, theatre, math on a good day. I just didn’t know how to be quiet about anything I admired. And well, some people didn’t like that, so they tried to shut me up.” Here, Eddie paused for a second as he contemplated something. “I guess, in a way, they won. Because I stopped loving boys out loud, but god, do I love them. Especially pretty ones, like you. But I learned that just because I can’t be loud about it, doesn’t mean I can’t do it. So I did it from a distance. Never straying too close. It’s a bit like loving the stars, y’know. Or how a sailor loves the sea,” he paused, smiling softly, “in the way photographers love a sunset. With my entire being and no expectations to be admired, to be loved, back. You don’t look at the ocean and expect it to look back at you.” He ended his ramble, trailing off and feeling his cheeks heating up. He said a bit mire than he meant to. Well, he supposed, he was never really meant to love quietly.

Eddie opened his eyes when a hand touched his cheek, not realizing he closed them. His eyes met Steve’s, who was looking back at him so softly, so lovingly, that Eddie was struck with the absurd thought that this is what it must feel like to be admired, to be loved by the ocean in return.

[icarusmonsoon]

healed wounds, mended hearts pt II - rafe cameron

rafe cameron x reader, enemies x lovers, a lot of fluffs and angst between the characters and Y/n, hurt-comfort, a short fanfic series

Part I

___________________________________________

PART II

Rafe

A soft thud was heard from his back, he wasn't sure what made him turn in the middle of preventing Pope from dumping the cross into the ocean but he did. They both did. Rafe can see a familiar figure laying on the floor, blood soaking their side with one of his dad's man looming over them. His heart stopped when he realized who that was, anger spiking up at the thought of what just happened.

He stepped away from Pope, with him doing the same as he just now realized what had happened. Rafe thought he was supposed to be bright. How come Pope didn't realize his best friend was hurt and just now noticing because he stopped coming after him?

"Y/n" he mumbled to himself as he strode past containers, urging himself to get to that man as fast as possible. Anger washed over him with the thought of her being hurt. "Bos i-" There was no time for the man to finish his sentance because the minute Rafe got to the smirking man, he pulled his collar upward, his other hand strangling the man's neck from the side. "You did that huh? You fucking stabbed her?"

"Yeah Bos said to-"

"It doesn't matter what my dad said because i am your bos too, no? Besides he ordered you all to make them leave! And you fucking stabbed her." He spat, his blood ran hot through his whole body.

Rafe punched his face, again, and again, and again. All he see was red, his hands, his vision, the man's face.

"Y/n! Stay with me okay? You stay awake. Fuck! Y/n?" He heard a voice called out in the back and it pulled him out of his mind. Y/n.

Rafe let go of the pathetic man, throwing his body intentionally harsher to the wet side of the floor. He turned his body to face her frail figure with her head leaning against Pope. Her eyes was closed, and he knew. He knew there was not much of an option. And at that exact moment he doesn't care if her friends don't agree, he doesn't care if she'll hate him the next time she sees him. Pope looked forward, their gaze locking, realization so prominent in Pope's pleading gaze as it filled with panic and desperation.

They both realized it was the only way to save her. They have a doctor onboard, whereas if she goes with the rest of the pogues, no one exactly knew where they'll lay ashore, if they'll find any land at all. They were all in the middle of nowhere, that was the only thing they were sure about.

"She has to stay"  Rafe said to him, and though they both knew it, the boy shook his head. Denial clouding his senses as he wrap protective arm around Y/n's limp body, preventing Rafe to go near her. "No there must be another-"

Rafe stepped forward, his arms flying to his sides with frustration. "For fuck sake Heyward you do realize we have a doctor here? And what are you freaks planning to do to her? Huh? Stitch her wounds with what Kiara's hair tye? In the middle of the fucking oce-"

"Just- shut up! Cameron. I get it, okay? But I don't trust you people to just leave her here. That is way out of the option"

"So i guess you have a better idea, yeah? Look, I don't give a single shit if anything happens to you all, but you have to trust me when i say this Heyward. I'd rather that" he pointed at her wound "I'd rather be the one got wounded than seeing her like this. Please, I cant live witho-" he stopped himself.

"I can't live knowing i didn't do anything to save her Pope, and i think you do too" he said, his eyes gleaming with frustration and a desperate need to do something. Pope saw something he had never ever seen before, a side so out of character for the Cameron boy. God, a boy like Rafe wouldn't ever say the word please to anyone, let alone someone who is both a pogue and his enemy. Pope literally saw tears on his eyes through his own blurry vision.

Cleo was the one to act out, grabbing Pope by the shoulder whispering things as a sign to leave. They all knew the consequences that could occur if they dont act fast. And right now all of them were distracted enough to not cause any more trouble for both sides. It was a free pass for the pogues, and a guarantee for the cross's safety for Rafe.

"Just go, before i make the call. I don't care, use the lifeboat if you want." Rafe said before he knelt down, his hands hovering over Y/n's body for a second as if he were contemplating whether or not to touch her without any consent. He was a terrible human being, a mess, but not ever a person to take advantage of a woman. His mind flashed to the day he almost drowned Sarah, the guilt taking control of his emotion. He knew he was wrong, but it wasnt like he can control himself. He really needs help.

But he realized this was an urgent call as he decided to do it nonetheless. He scooped her up, trying to be as gentle as possible whilst holding her close to his chest as he stood up, his one hand opening his phone to call for backup bellow Y/n's body.

Both Pope and Cleo looked at him as they slowly walked backwards. "Just take care of her, if anything happens to her i swear to god we'll get you Rafe" and with that, Cleo pulled him further away from them and left, trying to find the others with hearts as heavy as stones.

To be continued...

Part III

NO SMUT YET BUT I PROMISE YALL ITS HAPPENING SOON

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

I just reread n00b. Can I just say how great it is!? I love your writing in it!

a preview of the next chapter for your kindness

Wizarding World Wars Homepage

HOGWARTS SECRETS SCAVENGER HUNT EVENT

24 HOUR CHALLENGE

Successfully complete 5 Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt challenges and collect 5 silver Quaffles for one month of unlimited Floo travel

Time Remaining: 23 hrs 16 mins 31 secs

...

Discord Server: WWW Marauders Alliance

Members: Ah-Idk, siriusblack, Bacon4Algernon, Wormtail, Josie

Channel: General Resumed: Monday 8th July 2019, 4:43 p.m.

====================

Wormtail: Guys guys guys!! Are you seeing this?!

Ah-Idk: Just saw it now. I'm free for a bit if everyone else is? No pressure on you @Josie if you're not available or only want to play on Wednesdays.

Josie: I've got a couple of hours to spare before I leave to meet my friend, so I can play for a bit.

siriusblack: Bacon get your arse home, I'm not passing up unlimited Floo

Bacon4Algernon: bugger off i'm busy and only josie calls me bacon YOU can't call me bacon this is not becoming a thing

Wormtail: It's part of your username?

Josie: Yeah guys Did you hear that? Only I can call him Bacon Only I am special

Bacon4Algernon: that is NOT i repeat NOT what i meant AT ALL you are DELIBERATELY misconstruing my words for your own illicit purposes

Josie: Do you ever ramp the energy down to anything resembling normal dialogue, or are you basically always Javert before he leaps off the bridge?

Bacon4Algernon: undermining me in front of the group pretending to have a friend that you "meet up with" as if you aren't a horned brute who festers like a wound beneath the earth's crust, both continental and oceanic time and time again, you tell these LIES

Josie: Call me Jean Valjean, I guess

Wormtail: Lol

Bacon4Algernon: i must insist that you do not reference french fiction at me at this time i am TRYING to set a romantic mood with someone here and it is extremely counterproductive to my efforts

Josie: Awwwwww, Bacon I knew you felt as I did <3

Bacon4Algernon: NOT WITH YOU

Josie: My sweet reine du drame

Ah-Idk: Because whoever heard of the words "French" and "romantic" being used in conjunction with one another?

siriusblack: For fuck's sake, your girlfriend can live without you for one fucking day 24 hour challenges won't wait, Prongs Shelve your frigidly polite over-the-clothes fondling and Uber back to the house I'll even pay for it, you left your debit card on your bed

Bacon4Algernon: so now having MANNERS is an issue?

Josie: Jesus

Bacon4Algernon: you know i'd actually BE at home right now if she didn't feel so uncomfortable around you that she doesn't want to come over, yeah??!

siriusblack: Tell her to change her entire personality

Bacon4Algernon: SIRIUS

siriusblack: Then she can come over whenever she wants

Josie: Oh my GOD Stop it BOTH OF YOU THIS IS LUDICROUS

Ah-Idk: Agreed.

Wormtail: ^

Ah-Idk: I'm getting really sick of this.

Josie: Nobody else in this Discord, and I mean NOBODY, Bacon, since all-caps theatrics seems to be the only language you understand, is interested in dealing with this Cheryl Blossom bullshit

Bacon4Algernon: ??R??GF

Josie: We're here to play a game. A GAME. You're neglecting your brother and he's jealous so he's taking it out on your girlfriend, WE GET IT, people with bigger relationship issues than this one have sorted them out faster than you two just have a conversation and let us live

Bacon4Algernon: firstly, you don't own this server so stop throwing your weight around and setting rules like you're my mother or something

Josie: Your mother owns this server?

Bacon4Algernon: sdhgiksfhd NO AND SECONDLY my biggest problem with sirius is actually that he let YOU into this discord, mephistopheles so stick THAT where your peg's supposed to go

Josie: I'll keep your thesaurus-assisted admonishments out of your arsehole, thanks.

Wormtail: Lmfaooooooooooooooooooooo

Josie: And if your biggest problem with Sirius is that he brought me into the Discord, and not that he's treating your girlfriend like a fucking dishrag, then you're not a very good boyfriend and she should dump you like toxic waste.

Bacon4Algernon: EXCUSE ME??!

Wormtail: DAMN

Bacon4Algernon: what kind of UNFOUNDED ACCUSATION????YOU ARE LUCKY THAT SHE DIDN'T READ THAT

Josie: Then put your phone down and pay her some attention? Anyway, about this challenge

siriusblack: YES, the challenge

Bacon4Algernon: @siriusblack she just insulted you too and what, you don't care?

siriusblack: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Josie: I've already found one Quaffle in Filch's office. So we only need four more to get the Floo.

Bacon4Algernon: WHAT? HOW? THE CHALLENGE STARTED TWENTY MINUTES AGO I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS

Josie: I know it did, it only took me ten minutes. I've had a look at the noticeboard in the common room and one of the clues is definitely pointing to the lake, and I think another's directing us to Myrtle's bathroom, but I'm cool with heading wherever if anything else jumps out at the rest of you.

Ah-Idk: Checking now.

Bacon4Algernon: WAIT WAIT WAIT DON'T DO THIS WITHOUT ME THAT'S NOT FAIR

siriusblack: Come the fuck home, then

Josie: Or maybe DON'T throw your girlfriend over for a game???

siriusblack: Anyone have gillyweed?

Josie: Unless you genuinely never want to get pegged by anyone at all.

Bacon4Algernon: HAH I DO I DO

Josie: Want to get pegged?

Bacon4Algernon: I MEANT THE GILLYWEED HADES

siriusblack: I'll rephrase that Does anybody present and currently still loyal to the party have gillyweed?

Bacon4Algernon: SIRIUS

Wormtail: I've got some gillyweed.

Ah-Idk: I agree re: the lake, it seems obvious from the clues. Happy to head there if everyone else is.

Bacon4Algernon: STOP LEAVING ME OUT. I WANT TO PLAY it's not fair for you all to PERSECUTE me for being with the woman i like and could see myself loving in 8 to 10 months i'm trying to be an attentive boyfriend don't make this my sophie's choice

siriusblack: I just put food in my stomach, you prick

Wormtail: Weird way to say "ate" but ok

Ah-Idk: Sophie had to choose between her children, Prongs. Her literal children. The one she didn't choose died.

Josie: Oh for god's sake, we're not starting this again, I can't deal. What time are you due to get home?

Bacon4Algernon: who?

Josie: YOU, FLOOZY WHO ELSE?

Bacon4Algernon: idk satan she's got to go to a thing with her parents at 7 so after that

Josie: Fine. I'll be back from seeing my friend at 9ish, I can play then if everyone else is free.

Wormtail: I can play at 9.

siriusblack: @Josie You don't have to pander to Prongs, let's just take the lake mission now

Josie: Including every member of the party isn't pandering? It's being a decent fucking person.

Ah-Idk: Happy to play at 9, I've got chores to do this evening anyway and I can't face Prongs and Sirius arguing AND looming dirty dishes all at once.

Josie: Cool. So we're all sorted.

siriusblack: Sorted according to who, exactly?

Josie: According to me. Take issue with it, please, I beg you. Then maybe you and Bacon can bond over what a hellish, nasty bitch I am and be friends again, saving us all from further aggro.

siriusblack: Nice try, compadre But you know I can't stay mad at you for long

Josie: -_-

siriusblack: I wish I knew how to quit you

Josie: Thanks...Jake Gyllenhaal?

Bacon4Algernon: fine then i'll be back online at 9ish

Josie: Not going to thank me for anything, no?

Bacon4Algernon: thank you for what, keeping winged monkeys gainfully employed?

Josie: Thanks for that babe, love you too

[bropunzeling]

jamie/trevor #24 in danger :)

"Should we be doing this?"

"What do you mean?" Trevor takes another step onto the roof. "It's perfectly safe."

"We're two stories up." Jamie's voice is flat and unpersuaded. "Why couldn't we stick to the balcony?"

"The balcony is boring," Trevor retorts. Another step. He's almost to the chimney now, which will be the perfect place to lean against while watching the sunset.

That is, if Jamie ever gets his ass up here.

"The balcony is fine." Jamie does not sound like he's moving.

The balcony faces east. The roof faces west. And ever since they moved in to their new place -- perfect location, smack dab between a hipster coffee place with perfect dog watching material and a Chipotle -- Trevor has wanted to check out the view. They live in California, for fuck's sake. Who doesn't want an ocean sunset?

More specifically, he wants to check out the view with Jamie. Trevor doesn't know what it is, why he feels so compelled to -- to convince Jamie of all the good things here. It's not like Jamie's ever expressed a desire to be anywhere else. But there's something deep within Trevor that has to be sure. That has to know Jamie wants to be here: in Anaheim, on the Ducks. On the roof, sitting next to Trevor.

"Jamie," Trevor says, giving up on any attempt to sound chill. He just -- Jamie needs to come up here. Trevor needs Jamie to come up here.

One second. Two.

An enormous sigh. "Fine," Jamie huffs. There's a scraping sound as he gets up on the chair Trevor used as a stepping stool to haul himself up on the roof. "But if I fall and break my skull open, it's your fault."

"You're not gonna fall," Trevor says, bizarrely relieved. "Just get over here, it's nice and flat."

Soon enough, Jamie's made it, sitting heavily next to Trevor and leaning back against the chimney. He's in a sweatshirt and shorts, like he can't decide how warm he is. Trevor looks out of the corner of his eye at the 34 on Jamie's chest, newly out-of-date.

"So," Jamie says. "Why am I risking my life again?"

"Shut up, Jimbo," Trevor says, nudging him with a foot. "Look."

They both look west.

God, Trevor can't get over living out here. Can't get over these colors, persimmon orange and indigo and streaks of purple all blending together. It's like the movies, but real; it's like nothing he's ever seen before. Bright, and warm, and he gets to have this every fucking day.

Him, and Jamie, sitting next to him, their calves pressed together.

"Okay," Jamie says softly after a few minutes. "It's a pretty good view."

Trevor bumps him with a shoulder. "Told you so."

"You could've just said," Jamie replies, grinning at Trevor sidelong.

No, Trevor wants to say. He couldn't have just said. It had to be felt -- the sunset, the evening breeze, the two of them pressed along the sides of their bodies. There was no way to put it into words, no matter how hard Trevor tried. No way to express what it means, to have this together, the two of them, here and now, on the cusp of a new season.

Jamie is still looking at him. There's a hint of a smile, curled in the corner of his mouth. It's stuff like this that makes it hard for Trevor to feel chill and relaxed and normal. He needs to dig his fingers into Jamie's mouth, pull that smile out, know that it's for him and him alone.

"Trevor," Jamie says. His eyes are bright in the growing dark. Light pollution, Trevor thinks nonsensically.

"Hey," Trevor says. He can't stop looking at Jamie's mouth. "Do you..." He doesn't know what to say. There are too many thoughts in his head, too many desires crashing together over and over, atoms going nuclear with wanting.

Jamie waits, looking back.

Jamie's mouth is cool and dry. He inhales through his nose, a raspy sound, when Trevor kisses him. He doesn't lean in, but he doesn't lean away.

Trevor pulls back. For all his talk about how safe it is up here, now he feels dizzy. Like he could go tripping off the roof. "Yeah?"

Jamie swallows. Licks his lips. Slowly, slowly, a smile uncurls.

[scratchandplaster]

Stack The Deck - Wellness check

CW: stalking, obsessive behavior, intimidation, Morris hating on bald people

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

CF3 46E, CF3 46E, CF3 46E...

Morris needed to find that car again, right now, before the trace got cold and slipped through his fingers like sand. Frantically shoving the clothes he had borrowed back into the boxes, he was unsure about how to act next. Go back to the apartment and hope for the mother to come back again? Maybe drive around the city and look for the familiar code of the license plate, that too would travel to a new home.

Upstate... Nothing more than forests and rivers there, and to do what exactly? Live in a log cabin and siphon off tree sap till his parents grew old?

CF3 46E

Morris couldn't let that happen, staying back and remaining nothing more than a ghost story Elliot could tell his family: the tale of the pathetic fuck that didn't realize he had everything right under his nose until-

A forceful knock on the door ripped him from his thoughts.

CF3 46B

He didn't expect company, much less had the nerve for it right now. Everyone could go to hell for all he cared. With one exception, of course.

CF-

The booming against the wood became more vigorous; impatient rhythms meeting quickly thinning patience.

"Miss Roberts, I don't know where your cats are, I'm not stealing them. We've been over this."

No grace in sight, just more assault on Morris' poor ears, like the noises all throughout his head: crying, screaming, rough bristles against tile. The sting of apple-fresh bleach still burned at the back of his sinuses, even after weeks of mind-numbing distraction.

I need to explain everything, and he will accept my apology, and we can finally start over-

Before another hit could let the hinges vibrate with force, the door swung open to reveal a bright red face of anger to the unwelcomed guest.

"I SAID-" Morris growled, and stopped when he recognized the utterly unimpressed man. One he really didn't want to deal with right now.

"Belanger, for fuck's sake, now is not the time-"

"You don't answer my calls." Because I'm tired of being your postie.

"I'm busy, and you give me a job like what, once a week? Of course I'll keep myself occupied otherwise."

Caught in a gloomy expression, no man dared to back down so quickly. 

"You need to answer when I call."

Biting his tongue, the only thing Morris could retort was an annoyed huff; he knew about the duty towards his employer. It was nothing he could just push along as he pleased, but the information he'd worked hard for wasn't worth being thrown out so suddenly. The window he had created for himself was quickly shutting down. 

"So you are busy and under-worked at the moment? Doesn't sound convincing..." Belanger's lusterless fish eyes kept focus on the target of his worry, even as he pressed himself past the door frame. 

Remaining face-to-face with the always discreetly clothed partner, one could only wonder why a few missed job opportunities would rub him the wrong way. Thinking of it, Morris guessed that he would be just as sensitive, provided he'd also lose all his hair minutes after turning thirty. On angry nights, he often asked himself if he could take on Mr. Clean's dipshit cousin.

"Please, make yourself at home," Morris sighed, not sure how well-thought-out it had been to let the mass of a man into his quarters.

The tired proxy carefully eyed the mess littered throughout the room; photos, piano booklets and obviously strange clothing only affirmed what he had already suspected:

"Are you getting distracted again?"

Yes, actually, by the nagging little middleman he was supposed to stand by for.

That exact man painfully remembered the last one that stole Morris' focus: some bony princess from new money; he caught him scrolling through an ocean of pictures when they should have been occupied with handling the daily charge. Belanger wasn't ready to put up with this whole act once again, not so soon. The only thing worse than the fawning, and god did he hate that, will be the moment it all inevitably crashes and burns to the ground. The phase where Morris got especially difficult to handle...

"What is it this time? I'll see if I can make some space for you," he answered instead, paying no mind to Belanger's interrogation.

"You better do that quickly, Dutch wants to see you."

Shit. He really should have taken that call.

"Now?" Morris desperately tried to squeeze his voice past the lump blocking his throat. It was better to know when he would be led to slaughter, saves a lot of time on scheduling.

"Don't piss yourself yet, he was impressed with whatever you did back at the den," the proxy said, letting his monotone drawl hide how much he enjoyed seeing him all antsy, "Fucking massacre, if you ask me, though." 

"I cleaned up after, if you need it..."

"At least you got that right. Congrats, I guess, nobody found the body yet." Yeah, me neither.

"Wasn't that bad, just so you know, uh-"

"I would stay in line if I were you, with the cops still on my ass and all," Belanger let his voice drop low, having neither interest nor patience for cheap horror stories, "Let's go!"

Morris was close, so much closer than the last few weeks. There had to be another way, one that didn't involve Dutch, of all people.

"Listen, I'll call you back soon and-"

"Wasn't a question, Morris."

He thought of Elliot and the festering itch that burned up when remembering these hazel eyes, looking up at him just one more time... I forgive you. God, he would give everything to hear these words.

He thought of Dutch, and his bad knee let a cautionary twitch rock his body.

So Morris budged. Some people you can't let wait.

CS3 46B would still be there for him, a few miles further northwest, more or less. It wouldn't take that long, right? He could let the itch heal down and hope the lingering antipathy would fade away, give them all some time to breathe. A fear started to nest deep already, hidden behind Morris' own self-preservation: the silent terror that Elliot wouldn't stop to look out for him.

Belanger would, though, keeping Morris on track until their boss was satisfied.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

Taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername, @canislycaon24

[charlenasaxen]

Favorite Quotes - Summer Sons by Lee Mandelo

“The image of Eddie’s corpse, emptied out and dolled up, remained stuck”

“in the gold afternoon light, the black chrome and black detailing and cherry-red rims struck him”

“banging his head and his pride on the roof of the car”

“chances he took without his usual second-in-command on site”

“a guitar and a battered amp in the closet that used to be Andrew’s and were once again”

“Andrew had sprawled over his center console to reach out his passenger window and flip off a smirking Eddie, who had his shades pushed up”

“No part of Andrew could conceive of the room as a goodbye offering. It was too much a welcome”

“Five months of separation that had stretched into eight over the summer, and now would never end”

“Every moment of his life that followed would take him further from Eddie, no matter his efforts”

“It’s your house, stand all afternoon if you want to. I was being polite.”

“The alerts went on and on with the phone balanced on Riley’s palm like a snake that might bite”

“Thirty-seven unread messages, eight missed calls. Six voicemails. Also, a software update”

“Who am I supposed to be calling?”

“I’m assuming whoever left you all those messages,”

“In the better version of their lives that he didn’t get to have, Eddie would’ve been getting the other boot, or throwing up over the porch railing. He missed him with fierce pain.”

“With no attempt to delay for propriety’s sake, West responded immediately”

“his unknowing response: keep it together I’ll be there soon”

“streaked with pale washout dye that had already disappeared by his funeral a month later”

“Eddie’s next text just said cmere, followed by Andrew’s response, would if I could asshole”

“Home was where Eddie was; home was nowhere, now”

“even if Andrew swallowed the suggestion that he’d been abandoned, Eddie wouldn’t disrespect him so completely”

“a handful of unremarkable young men who could all use each other’s IDs in a pinch”

“it shattered with a burst of flame and glass. The crowd roared.”

“but apparently he’d left that shit up to interpretation”

“It reminded him of his own habitual match with Eddie, first and last no matter what happened between—until now.”

“terror and delight and the promise of risk bringing him to life.

Smashing forward into motion was as natural as breathing”

“his blood leapt desperately toward another person, the only other person who carried it, too far away—Eddie’s final coherent thought was, help me.”

“Eddie hadn’t wanted to die—Eddie tried to save himself. If Andrew had come home sooner—if he’d been there”

“it seems like it fucking killed him, so tell me again how I owe you something?”

“to approximately dick-level. He had to admire the lack of dissembling”

“When he was around he was king of the castle, and it made me forget to ask where the fuck he was the rest of the time”

“Andrew, in his briefs and socks, eating applesauce directly from the container in front of the fridge, had the option to either stand his ground or flee”

“He wanted to believe that, if their positions were reversed, Eddie would have already drowned the necessary parties in the ocean”

“I asked to see where, after they brought him back and called his parents”

“letters he presumed Halse had left, the only other man to visit Eddie’s resting place”

“someone else was there. Another set of hands arranging the stiff corpse.”

“Violence hadn’t found Eddie here in the forest, not at this resting place, quiet and green”

“The soil had so little spilled blood to give as offering to Andrew when he came for his inheritance”

“The desperation of Eddie reaching out to him at the end”

“tracing the initials one more time. Days after he had died, Sam had stood here and carved a spot to remember Eddie by.”

“He didn’t have the sense god gave a dog”

“you meet them, you like them, you get to spending time with them”

“Ed did that with us before you even showed up, so we have to help you out for his sake.”

“all big eyes and flopping around like a sexy rag doll,” Riley noted.

The tips of Andrew’s ears went hot”

“that Eddie still wanted him in his final moment”

“Edward’s ring,” she said. “I found it, after”

“not addressing the fact that he’d been with Sam in the first place.”

“I remember his excitement about some recent discovery he’d made, but I never had a chance to find out what.”

“heart pounding in his chest. The phantom image of Eddie kissing him in his sleep.”

“No one else had been there with him in the cavern for hours spread across days, freezing, terrified of encroaching death”

“a seventy-five percent tip on West’s dime.”

“He had gotten used to their curse and what it could do in the years since, and that had made him complacent”

with an electric blue sticky note on top that said “eat these Andrew.”

“took his phone from between his teeth.”

“He owned the land across that invisible line. He wondered if he’d recognize the moment he stepped across the divide.”

“Blood for blood, offered to the earth—wasn’t that a familiar story”

“families and land and sacrifice. And the things that had happened in the cavern—”

“The land’s hungry, and it gets its due, one way or another.”

“Except the tale belonged to him, the scion of a cursed house”

“He’d found some other record of the curse to hunt down in his final days.”

“In case you missed it, the last person doing the research you just asked him to do is dead.”

“I broke my ankle, he concussed himself. We couldn’t climb out. I broke all my fingernails trying to get up.”

“he was the sole living person who knew the tale. After he told it, he wouldn’t be alone.”

“No light at all…crawling through the pooled, brackish water, pawing at slick stones”

“When the blood touched Eddie’s hair his neck turned, an unnatural jerk”

“Troth knew her husband wasn’t going to see through another winter, and he felt a kinship with her over that—Eddie wouldn’t be seeing snow either”

“to avoid eavesdropping on their goodbyes”

“Not real surprised she’s excited about a weird death curse; that library felt like it’d seen a few of its own”

“Faded photos of two tanned boys, summer sons, gazed into the family camera”

“Shock and rage exploded across Andrew’s body in a blistering wash, propelling him forward.”

“Literally anyone who talked to Eddie in that last week.”

“A different hunger, one that would remain unsated. He was about to turn twenty-three, and Eddie wasn’t going to see it happen.”

“Andrew lifted his tattoo to his mouth for a good-luck kiss”

“he and Eddie had gotten kicked out of four bars in succession and ended up unconscious in a stranger’s yard”

“growing past the static moment in time the revenant would always be trapped inside.”

“the force that drove dogs to waste to death on their masters’ graves”

“as an apology to the friend he’d loved or a reminder of his responsibility to him”

“Go to class, hold down the fort, and don’t draw her attention”

“The golden, sun-scattered kitchen was homey. Nothing cast a real shadow.”

“to keep from charging straight up the staircase to drag a dying man out of his bed”

“I’m surprised to see you’re not still wearing his ring, Andrew.”

“Still?” he asked with a swoop in his stomach

“He’d come full circle, back to the kid trapped in a cavern with a broken ankle, waiting to die”

“drag Sam along with him, unwilling but dedicated, repeating the cycle of his inheritance”

“With him settled, she pecked a kiss on her husband’s forehead”

“there are few limits on what I’d do to save him.”

“Sorry,” Mark contributed with an unnecessarily chipper tone

“I saw you two in the newspaper, and I wondered”

“Recognition rocked him at the sight. That edge had bit through Eddie’s flesh first.”

“You thought you were hunting me, but you were being herded along.”

“Do you understand?”

“Fuck you,” he said.

“I expected as much,”

“Rope creaked. Andrew’s blood pooled”

“He had become a passenger in his flesh, one half of a whole, as he’d thought of himself for so long.”

“Their inheritance was strong—not Andrew’s thought, though it occupied his head”

“She drove her thumbs into the meat of his arms; he shrieked again. One of the horses whinnied in empathetic distress.”

“the rush of death beat through the room like a hundred pairs of wings. Mark had gone limp.”

“Driven by the recollection of Eddie’s pain”

“the welcome reminder of his belonging. Their alternate perspectives notched like puzzle pieces,”

“Eddie, bound to this chair, flinging their gift to Andrew in hopes that he’d catch”

“Your eye,” he whispered.

“It hurts,” Sam said, voice so small

“And Eddie, my god. Oh my god.”

“The haunt chittered sympathetic nothingness at him and took clumsy control to maneuver him to the car”

“As boys they’d been happy here, together, and he felt scraps of the lifelong yearning Eddie had dragged to his grave.”

“To be fair, Eddie’s dismembered voice coming out of Andrew’s body wasn’t Andrew’s favorite thing, either.”

“Fire wouldn’t cleanse the history from that earth, but maybe it could put the bones to rest.”

despite its unwillingness to abandon him.

“This is yours,” he whispered.

Come on. I love you, but this is no life. His acquired memories slithered free with a mournful pang.

“Goodbye,” he said.

“to preserve the memory of Eddie as he’d really been, rather than what he’d become”

“Eddie had left him this, also: a future to see through.”

“Tonight they were celebrating. The review committee had accepted Riley’s thesis proposal, revised to adapt Eddie’s unfinished work”

“Possibilities swirled in the smell of gasoline and the crisp October night”

[borathae]

Sibibaby that chapter was the cutest!!! Omg it healed me in more than one way tho hehe i’m so soft 🥺

1- I kinda wanted Yoongi to be with oc tho :(( i’m a sad potato 🥔 And the fact that she is still in shock and refuses to talk to anybody 😭 Jungkookie boy protect my baby oc and don’t leave her alone 🥺💜

2- i’m so happy about Taeboy trying to make up with Yoongi you have no idea i miss cute Tae so much 🥺

3- OooMmmggggg we finally learned about how Yoongi became vampire and i was like WHATTTTTT? It’s all because some kind of freak ( with all respect hehe) decide to punish him?? Wow. Just wow.

4- And he was a warlock????? God he is so cool no joke i wanna lick and bite and smooch him 😳

5- But…what broke me most is…he is trying to find a way to being mortal or kill himself just because he doesn’t want to live after oc dies…😭😭😭 I’m gonna fucking cry like literally i’m gonna ugly cry 😭 When he said something like ‘You expect me to live after i watch her die?’ My heart broke 😭

6- I’m happy that Tae and Yoongie Boongi are on good terms ( part of 😏) for the sake of oc

7- but i’m gonna go and cry again because of the…you know… his confession about wanting to die

I can’t wait for the next chapter Sibibaby!!! 🩵🩵🩵💜💜

P.s would u like to share with us a little snippet ?? Or pictures to summarize the next chapter? 🥺🥺🥺💜

I'm so happy that you loved it heheh I love youu 💜💜

honestly I just wanna protect her :( gosh I bet she must be so disgusted at herself too, like omfg she actually killed someone. Poor girl :( rest assured though that Kook is taking the best care of her :(

I'm so happy too!! I missed their lovely interactions so much :( istfg that scene where Tae rests on Yoongi's lap and cries while Yoongi comfortingly plays with his hair is burned into my brAIN

we did!! istfg I love his lore so much!! pLEASE FJADJFA

SAME BRO SO FUCKING SAME I NEED TO EAT THIS MAN FANDNFA

same same same 😭😭😭 y'all always wanted to know how he would react to OC's death and now we know 😭😭 but I honestly understand him, watching your one true mate die would honestly break me too especially after three thousand years of loneliness and then having your happiness die AGAIN :(

same same same :( I missed them so much :(

fajdjfaj ME AFDJF

YES I CAN SHARE A LIL SNIPPET OMFMGM

Hoseok proceeds to take off his hoodie, draping it over your bared legs. You feel warmer instantly. Seokjin takes off his cardigan, wrapping your torso in it. The warmth is instant. Their arms are both exposed now, but they don’t feel the cold.

“That’s better”, Seokjin says.

“Yeah, so much better”, Hoseok agrees.

They fall silent, looking out at the ocean. You should feel better now that you aren’t alone anymore, but you don’t.

afadsjfa

[monado-oshawott]

Damn Dreamsmp is acutally over. Seeing all the posts on all platforms as well as the finale streams itself sent a fucking shock through my systems Having watched (for all sakes and purposes) Dsmp from day 1 (when Tommy joined) on the VOD channel and watching it live the next day when Fundy, Purpled, Tubbo (and I believe Punz) joined. I remember watching the Disc wars live, the squabbles between Tubbo, Fundy and purpled. Tubbo and Sapnap streams where they grinded really hard, until dream got really pissy about tubbo automating iron production. I remember, the time Tommy burnt down Tubbo’s house and they trapped spawn as a result and thats why there is that god horrendous wall around Spawn. I remember Lmanburg, Eret building the walls, Tubbo and Eret grinding all night to get villagers with diamond armour and enchanting books. I remember seeing all that and the subsequent major events such as Pogtopia, the elections, October 16th and Tubbo’s execution. November 16th and the establishment of new lmanburg and then eveyrthing that happened after that. but also all the small stuff as well, the Pet Wars, Tubbo, Tommy and Jack Manifold’s expeditions through the sewers, Fundy making noteblock music under the Tubbo Jungle base because they were both going to move out there together, Tubbo, Fundy, Sam and in the end I believe Ranboo draining the Ocean monument together. I remember getting really hyped when new people joined MCC (still do) and getting very excited about new Sadist animations (Still do) Such a magical experience that I was glad to be there for nearly every moment of and I'm thankful everyday for the CCs it introduced me to and all the adjacent content it introduced me to and how it shaped my life for about two years during the Pandemic. I’m going to miss you, you crazy sun of a bitch of a server may there never be an actual season 2 to disrupt you from your well deserved rest.

[slaveforlokisblog]

i. Don't kill me!

"Hate, the opposite of love, the driving power of destruction"

"Not that fucking car, that one was Jax's favorite! " spat Asher angrily. Asher Hunter Black was a very successful businessman man, almost all the fashion designing companies worked under him and that was just a..... Undercover!

He was the biggest Mafia boss 'Thy Enforcer' who exported weapons to many countries. He was an arrogant, pompous, ignorant person in real life. He didn't like people very much except for one...his son, Jaxon.

"I'm sorry sir, she came out of nowhere, it wasn't my fault!" said the driver. "well, the good thing is Jaxon

was not in it!" sighed Asher. The driver dropped Jaxon to kindergarten and was heading back.

"Go find her!"

"she's at the parking lot!" said the driver who knew it was her last day. She shouldn't have stayed. Even if she didn't it would be of no use, Asher would have easily found her.

"well, that's a good thing, she didn't run!" said Asher.

"Not everyone is like you, Hunter!" uttered an old man, not very old, but he still looked fit.

"what do you want, Walter?"

"Jesus, how many times have I told you I hate it when you call me by my name, I'm your grandpa for God's sake!" uttered his grandpa. "right!" smirked Asher.

"what are you gonna do? Kill that poor girl?"

"she ruined my son's favorite car, and do you know how much it cost?" spat Asher.

"All of this hatred just for a stupid, non-living object?"

"One thing I got from you! " chuckled Asher. His grandpa was so pissed at him. Asher always blamed him for how or who he was. Yes, his grandpa did some terrible things but now he is trying to right his wrong.

"Is this what you are gonna teach your son when he is old enough, that people's lives are worthless compared to an object." said grandpa. He had enough of his evil behavior.

"I know exactly what to tell my son, alright? He will be nothing like me or my father and absolutely not like you."

"Do what you want!" Walter slammed the door of his office and started searching for the girl who was just here to apologize for what she did. She had no idea it would most likely cause her life. But she was nowhere, the guards already took her to the safe spot.

Of course, Asher was not gonna kill her, he can easily afford a new one but he was gonna teach her a lesson for sure.

"you guys are pretty serious about your security, huh?" said Dia. She immediately shut up when one of the guards gave her a death glare.

Dia Auclaire was an independent, strong, and robust girl, at least she thought like that...if truth be told she was a mess, a complete mess. She was 21. Her life was always upside down. Whenever she wanted to do something right it went otherwise just like this time, but she stayed to apologize.

When the door opened she looked at Asher with bright eyes, he was a bit older than her but he was hot. His eyes color was turquoise like the ocean which made her wonder what secrets lay behind those, his lips were perfect and his suit was neatly ironed. He had a muscular body, and his hair was almost blonde. His hands....oh my God, his veiny hands could do so many things to her oh shoot, she shouldn't think like that in this situation, she is just here to apologize.

"Hello sir, you must be Mr. Black. I'm so sorry for crashing your car. There was fog all around I couldn't see a single thing. I'm so sorry!" apologized Dia.

"you got a license?" asked Asher. Uhh, of course, she didn't have one. She failed her driving test so many times.

"no!"

Asher was interrupted by one of the guards. "Boss, Moriarty's brother is here!"

"Okay, this is your last warning, next time you won't get one, good thing my boy was not in it. I'm leaving you this time, go now" said Asher calmly.

"James, what a surprise!" gushed Asher. "I'm just here to tell you that I'm not going to get that tape for you. I'm not going against my brother!" said James.

"you know your brother is trafficking kids, right?" said Asher. Moriarity was a don too he was trafficking kids and girls with the help of 'thy enforcers' weapons. That was the reason Asher was so pissed that if anything happens, they will immediately track them because of the weapons.

"I know."

"well then you are of no use to us!" said Asher and immediately shot him neat in the head. James fell and Asher heard a faint gasp from the window.

"that girl, she watched us. Bring her!" demanded Asher to the guards. Dia saw he shot that man straight in his head. She couldn't believe what she saw. She just wanted to admire that Ferrari which was parked there and she took a picture of that car too.

"oh shit, shit, shit, he's gonna kill me too, he is a murderer, I should the call police, I shouldn't have stayed, stupid Ferrari." Dia started running for her life. Oh God, it was indeed her last day. She was running so fast that she almost didn't see a boy approaching. She fell taking the boy down on the ground.

"I'm sorry, are you okay? We gotta run okay," she blurted.

The boy was too young to understand any of that. He struggled to get out of her grip but the run was over. Asher caught her.

"stand behind me, okay?" she said to that boy almost bursting into tears.

."I almost liked you, but your timing is horrendous, you have to die too"

He saw she was hiding the boy behind her, Asher paused for a minute and kept the gun behind. She knew that Asher has noticed she was hiding her.

"no, don't do it!"

"Please don't kill me, I will not say a word about this, I swear. Just let me go please, you will never see me again." she pleaded.

Then the other second, he witnessed she was protecting the boy and he was astounded to see that.

"Hand him over!" Asher demanded. "why so you can shoot him too?" Dia said. She don't know why she was protecting that boy but she did.

"don't do it, he is just a boy, don't kill him too." she pleaded.

The boy was standing there facing Dia's back while she surrounded him with her arms to protect him. The boy was still struggling to get out of her hold not understanding anything that was happening.

"Daddy?" said the boy.

[cjsinkythoughts]

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day. 

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.” 

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

****************

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. 

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

*****************

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

~

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

~

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

[jackrrabbit]

cooking at 3am /// Osamu x f!Reader

Request: Imagine cooking together with Osamu at 3am because neither of you could sleep (or because ‘Samu got the midnight munchies lol). You don’t have anything specific in mind; you’re just playing around and feeding each other little bits of what you make.

A/N: bruh you said munchies and my mind said [[ h i g h o s a m u ]] sorry this went in a kinda different direction? but still fun 3am cooking project vibes :P

Tag/warnings: fluff, light drug use (weed), you and Atsumu are lowkey Bros™️, Osamu's kinda baby 🤧

Osamu’s not good at smoking.

He doesn’t really know how to inhale—you know, hold it in his lungs so it can soak in or whatever—and when he does, he coughs. Except he tries to repress the coughs. Even if he wants to hide it, he’s always close enough to you that you can feel his chest moving from trying not to cough when he takes a hit.

And also, like every baby smoker, he can’t really tell when it’s kicking in until he’s off the deep end.

“Can you feel it yet?”

“No.”

You shoot Osamu a glance where he’s sitting on the ground in front of the couch, watching a nature documentary on Atsumu’s TV with a glazed-over look on his face. “You sure? Your eyes are super red.”

“I can’t feel it. Give it—“ He holds out his hand and honestly you’re pretty sure he’s had plenty, but it’s Atsumu’s vape so who cares. You hand it over and Osamu holds it up to his mouth and sucks, eyes fluttering closed as the light on the side of the Pax glows yellow.

God, he looks hot when he does that. Something about a hot guy smoking, yeah? Actually, no. Something about your hot boyfriend smoking.

Except 'Samu holds his breath a second too long and you can see the urge to cough hit him… Wait for it, you think to yourself, and a second later he hacks and wheezes the vapor out in a wispy cloud that reflects silver against the semi-dark. You coo in sympathy and pat his back. “Want some water?”

Osamu shakes his head, hand over his mouth to stop the coughing. On the tv, David Attenborough talks about penguin courtship rituals and Atsumu (who’s been draped on the couch next to you for the past few hours) gives a light little sigh in his sleep. You check the time. 3am. Bedtime. Too bad you and 'Samu are both too high to drive home…whoops. Guess you’re spending the night at Atsumu’s place.

Osamu rubs his bloodshot eyes like they’re itchy, which they probably are. “Hey, can we— uhh… Do we have pancakes.”

“Pancakes, babe? You mean the ones you made for breakfast?”

“Yeah, there’s leftovers…I made you extra and you didn’t want them.” He twists around and gives you an incredibly dirty look, like this is something you did on purpose to hurt his feelings. “If you don’t want them I’m going to eat them.”

“Wait, 'Samu—“ But Osamu's already getting up off the floor to wander over to the next room. You debate pausing the show—it’s a really good scene—but you leave it going for Atsumu's sake because you’re pretty sure the narration is the only thing keeping him asleep. He’s kinda drooling on your shoulder and you have to push him off to go follow your boyfriend to the kitchen.

“What is all this stuff? Ugh…” Osamu's pawing through the fridge. There’s a lot of crinkling, plastic sounds—you catch a glimpse inside and all of the shelves are stacked up with plastic bags and styrofoam containers.

You yawn and hop up to sit on the kitchen island. “Takeout? I don’t think he cooks.” Atsumu's going to get a lecture tomorrow for keeping 2-week-old Indian food in his fridge. God knows you heard it way too many times before you and Osamu moved in together. You don’t envy 'Tsumu.

Osamu sits down in front of the fridge, fumbles with a drawer, and pulls out a bag of moldy grapes. “Gross…who lives like this…”

You snicker into your hand.

“I can’t find the pancakes.” 'Samu's pulling the plastic drawers all the way out now, setting them down on the floor as he inspects the contents of the fridge.

“They’re not here.”

“You ate them?”

“No, I— Hey, put those back in,” you tell him helplessly as he shuts the door of the fridge, ignoring all the leftover food he took out. Yeah, half of it was probably off anyway, but Atsumu's gonna be pissed if he wakes up and there’s takeout going bad all over his kitchen floor.

“You threw away my pancakes?” Now the look on Osamu's face is utter betrayal. He stands up off the floor and glares sulkily at you. “I made those for you…”

“I didn’t throw them away, they’re—“ You hold back a laugh and wish you had your phone on you (where did it go?) so you could take a picture. He’s so cute when he smokes. “—they’re at home.”

“At home?”

“Yep, at home. The place where you and me live, remember?”

“Oh.” Osamu pauses, reaches out absently to grab the edge of your sleeve. You’re wearing one of his hoodies. “We’re not at home?”

“Nope. We’re at Atsumu's place,” you tell him through a giggle.

He plays with your sleeve, contemplating. “Why?”

“Because we’re out of weed and he said he’d smoke us out. And we like hanging out with him.”

“Oh. We do?”

“Yes.”

“…’Kay.” It takes Osamu a second to accept this, but then he nods seriously. “(Y/N), I'm hungry.”

“I know. What do you want to eat? You could probably have any of that stuff, I don’t think he’ll miss it.”

'Samu thinks about it for a moment, scanning the array of takeout containers spread out across the kitchen floor. “I want pancakes.”

“The pancakes are at home, remember?”

“Yeah…” Osamu flips over his grip on your sleeve and traces his thumb down the lines in your palm. “I could make some?”

More pancakes? “I don’t think 'Tsumu has eggs, babe. Or flour. Or…baking soda?” You’re not really sure what ingredients go into pancakes. Whatever cooking skills you possessed pre-Osamu have deteriorated significantly since you moved in together and he took over any and all food preparation for your household.

He pouts at this, and his hair is a little messed up, and he’s so pretty that you can’t stand how much you like him in that second. Mine mine mine, something in the back of your brain says. He’s mine.

You reach up and Osamu obediently ducks his head down so you can smooth his hair back into place and fix the bits that are flipping over his part. “Is there anything else you want to eat?”

“Onigiri.”

“Oh…” Well, at least Atsumu probably has rice. “Sure. Ok. That’s your specialty.”

“I want ya to make it for me.”

“What?” You frown and pull your hand out of his. “You know my cooking sucks.”

“No it doesn’t. (Y/N)’s food’s the best.”

“You own an onigiri shop, come on—“

“Please?”

One of his bangs falls back in his eyes and without thinking you reach up to put it in place. “Okay, fine. But you can’t complain about it if it’s not good.”

He smiles and you want to blush. “Yes! I promise.”

So you do it for him. Even though you’re high too. You measure some rice and water into the rice cooker (Osamu has to give you pointers on how much of each to put in) and you scrounge around Atsumu's depressingly bare kitchen for a few sheets of seaweed and some easy fillings. Osamu pulls a stool up to the island counter and rests his chin on his hands so he can watch you with a bleary look of adoration on his face.

It takes you…maybe half an hour to be done? It’s hard to gauge time when you’re high. You and 'Samu both jump when the rice cooker finishes and plays the little rice cooker song, which will remain stuck in your head for the foreseeable future. 'Samu hums it in a loop while you shape the rice into lopsided triangles and wrap the nori around it.

“Here,” you tell him when you set the plate down in front of him. He looks entirely too happy to be eating your mediocre food for someone who literally does this for a living, but who cares.

He picks one, takes a bite, swallows. And blinks.

“What do you think?” you ask in spite of yourself.

“Umm…salty,” Osamu says.

You grab one to try yourself and it’s salty. Like, ocean salty. Yuck. “I told you it would be bad,” you complain, trying to tug the plate away but Osamu grabs it and pulls it back.

“Noooo…it’s good,” he lies, although his face is giving him away. Still, he takes another bite and chews enthusiastically.

“Shut up.” You tug a little harder but Osamu doesn’t let go.

He swallows, pulls a face, and takes another one. “So good. I love it.”

“Shut up. You sound so fake. You’re going to get sick if you eat that.” You keep pulling, but he insists on pretending it’s edible so you admit defeat and help him finish the onigiri off. God, they’re awful. But he keeps eating and so you do too.

When you’re done, your mouth feels dry as fuck and you want to sleep almost as much as you want to drink about a gallon of water. “Is it bedtime yet?” 'Samu asks, wiping his mouth and then rubbing his eyes again.

The clock over the oven says it’s past 4. “Yes. It’s bedtime.”

“Wait—we’re…we’re not at home, right? We’re at 'Tsumu's?”

“Mhm.”

“I prolly drove here…I dunno if I can drive now,” Osamu tells you slowly, like he’s apologizing. “I think I'm kinda high.”

“Oh yeah?” You hold your laugh back and put your hands up on his cheeks. “How do you feel?”

“Dizzy. Blurry? Like…you’re in slow-motion.” His hands come up to layer over yours. “You’re pretty in slow-mo.”

“Prettier than usual?”

Osamu closes his eyes, scrunching them up to think and then looking over your face intently. “Same amount, just slower. So it’s easier to see.”

“That so?” You slip your hands around to drape over his shoulders and get up on your tiptoes to give him a little kiss on the cheek, because he’s earned it. “You know what, I think I'm kinda high too. I think we’re going to have to have a sleepover.”

“On the couch? S’not big enough for us both.”

“You can sleep with 'Tsumu in his bed…or I guess you could sleep on the ground?”

'Samu's mouth twists and his brows draw together. You can practically hear the gears in his mind turning while he considers alternatives. “Can we share the bed?”

“I think Atsumu's gonna want it. It’s his house.”

“But he’s already sleeping.”

True, you can hear Atsumu snoring lightly from the living room underneath David Attenborough’s description of endangered falcons in the Philippine rainforest. You should really wake him up—matter of fact, you should really clean up the kitchen because it’s a huge mess—but 'Samu's already pulling you away. And you’re so sleepy.

“He’s going to be pissed tomorrow,” you tell Osamu through a yawn, but you let him steer you in the direction of Atsumu's bedroom, holding your hand.

“Don’t care…I hate sleeping without you.”

“Yeah,” you say, and you squeeze his hand and he looks back at you like you’re the literal best thing in the entire universe—and you decide you should get him high more often. “Same.”