#i watched it a few years ago so i kinda forgot what my experience was

[lonely-dog-draws]

like a dream or a trance, until I heard the sound

[endlessthxxghts]

Joel Nye, The Science Guy

no outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈4.6k

"Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would."

Summary: Joel stumbles across an article online about the effects of coffee on the body. Determined to uncover the truth, he tests the hypothesis with you as his subject.

Contents/Warnings: Any physical description of reader is neutral (no size descriptions). Joel is bigger than you though (but he’s fucking huge in general, so…). No age mentioned for reader or for Joel. Implied established relationship. No matter what age, Joel is a grandpa when it comes to technology. Mentions of Amazon LMAO. SMUT 18+ MDNI (mutual masturbation on the phone, touching yourself in the workplace, dirty talk, sexting [kinda], ..kitchen activities…reflections…, finger fucking, lots of liquids, squirting, cumming untouched, drinking coffee with an ulterior motive!, allusion to further sexual endeavors). Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Happy New Year, my loves! I just got done rewatching TLOU for the millionth time while drinking some coffee, and for some reason, this was born. I have no idea wtf this is, so don't ask me.💚 Also let’s thank @javierpena-inatacvest for titling this silly thing for me hehe. Fucking iconic. I love you, bestie.🥹 Here's to my first fic of 2024, and to many more! I hope you enjoy.💚

MASTERLIST

Joel’s number one favorite sensation every morning was when the first drop of the bitter, black liquid met his tongue, consuming all his senses into nothing but pure coffee. It was one of his favorite things—past tense—because then he got to experience what it was like waking up to you every morning, what it was like tasting you every morning. The first drop of you blessed his tongue one year ago, and he never looked back.

That is, until now. 

You had work today and Joel had the day off, a rare occurrence. You forgot to set your alarm this morning, so you broke from his hold in a rush, leaving him nothing but a sweet kiss to last him the day. 

Usually your mornings together are spent tangled in his sheets until he leaves you with less than twenty minutes to get ready for your day. Too addicted to the way he makes you feel, you mastered the art of quick change, using the rest of your time to do your morning skincare routine. This, you’ll never skip—subjecting yourself to a few scoldings by your boss because of it.

Joel allowed himself a few more hours of sleep after you left, his body needing extra rest from his unusually crazy day at the job site yesterday and from the way you pounced on him as soon as he came home. You promised him it would be you doing all the work, but like the addicting little thing you are, he couldn’t help but take charge so he could watch you fall apart over and over and over again. 

Joel pulled himself out of his bed, a chill running down his body from leaving the trapped body heat of the sheets. He was hard, of course, and usually you’re there to help with his morning problem, but apparently today’s full of rare events for Joel. He grumbles to himself as he makes the way to the bathroom, not wanting to take care of himself without you, not anymore. He could wait for you to be home, but he knows he’d be a leaking, grumpy mess all day—God forbid he has to interact with another human in that aroused, frustrated state. He checks the little clock you bought for his bathroom counter when you moved in—so I can watch the time when I get ready for work, you scolded him when he made you late for the first time. 

11:48 the clock displays; twelve more minutes until your break. He can wait twelve minutes. You usually close your office during your lunch, don’t you? Maybe he can call you. He might as well do his own morning routine while he waits. Joel’s old morning routines consisted of brushing his teeth, then washing his face with soap and water. Though, upon witnessing his wretched routine the first morning you two spent together, you were utterly appalled at his actions, forcing him to the store and spending the first half of your morning educating him on proper skincare. His morning routine went from four minutes to fifteen with your influence, but because he didn’t want to be a minute late in calling you, he shaved three minutes off from his task. 

As soon as the clock hit twelve, Joel plopped himself in bed, leaning against the headboard, and reached for his phone, immediately dialing you. 

Two rings later, and your sweet voice fills his ears. “Hi, baby,” you say. He can hear the small smile on your face. 

“Hi, darlin’,” Joel rasps, his voice still groggy from the lack of use. 

“You just wake up?” You jokingly scold, knowing damn well what the answer was. You like when he sleeps in. He deserves the rest from all that hard work he does. 

“Maybe,” he tells you. You can hear the smirk on his face now. “How’s work goin’? On your break now?”

“Work is… definitely going,” you huff. “And yeah, I’m on my break now, which means I’ve got an hour to counterproductively stress about these reports that have to go out.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he tells you softly. But then he’s smirking again. “Can I help?”

“Help?” you repeat.

“Yeah,” he states like it’s the most regular answer ever. “Lemme help de-stress ya,” he adds, his voice dropping an octave. 

A heat consumes your face, but you remain calm. “Yeah?” You breathe. “And how would you help me, cowboy?” You ask him as you swiftly stand from your desk to lock your office door and close your blinds. 

“I reckon you just locked that door of yours, huh?” He asks rhetorically, knowing you better than you know yourself. Not even your past lovers would be able to pick up on the slightest of changes in your voice when you’re aroused. Joel picks up on it instantly. 

“Maybe,” you repeat his sentiment from earlier. 

“If I’m remembering correctly,” Joel says as he rubs his hand over his tenting bulge in an attempt to ease his ache. “You’ve got a couch in there, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Well, you know what to do next, babygirl.” 

Glancing at your door to make sure it’s really locked, you make your way to your couch, unbuttoning your jeans in the process and shucking them down as your ass meets the cushion. Fuck, you’re already soaked. 

“Where are you?” You ask him, your fingers ghosting your core over the wet patch on your panties.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, your phone buzzes. Joel sent you a text. An image. Clicking it, a breathy little whimper escapes you. “Fuck.” He’s leaning against the headboard, legs pushed open, his thick thighs on display. He’s just wearing his boxers, and his hand is inside, gripping onto his length. His leaking, angry tip is showing from the top of his boxers. A little circle catches your eye, and- oh. It’s a live photo. You hold down on the image, and you see his hips jerk into his hand. “Fuck,” you say again, your pussy twitching in excitement yet frustration that you can’t have him inside you right now. “I need you so fucking bad, Joel,” you whine into the phone as your fingers finally dip inside. 

“I need you, too, baby,” he groans, “I’m fuckin’ dyin’ over here.” He sounds so pained. It riles you up even more. Your fingers speed up at his words, breathy moans escaping you. You circle your clit a few more times before reaching lower and dipping your middle and index finger inside of you. Joel hears the faintest sound of a squelch, and the grip on his cock tightens. He pulls his boxers completely down over his thighs, his cock completely free, and he tugs at a slow, teasing pace in an effort to build himself up the way you normally do for him. “Let me hear you, baby, let me hear you touch yourself for me.”

Lord, you hope your room is sound proofed enough because without any hesitation, you’re putting him on speaker and setting your phone down near your cunt, pumping in and out of yourself faster and deeper for him to hear. “J-Joel, f-fuck,” you stutter, “I- I’m-”

“You’re close, baby, I know,” he says soothingly. You can hear the slick sound of his hand speed up. Your other hand falls to your clit as your fingers continue inside. “Let go for me, mi amor, soak those fingers as if it were my cock fuckin’ you,” he rambles. “Just like I know you can, baby, atta fuckin’ girl.”

With the help of his filthy mouth, your body seizes up and you’re seeing stars, your eyes falling to the back of your head as you remove your hand from your clit to slap it over your mouth in an attempt to stop the high-pitched, purely pornographic moan of his name from escaping the walls of your not-so private office. You can hear the moment Joel cums, too, a painful groan roars from his throat as you hear the movements slow but get slippier with each pass over. 

You’re on the phone for a few moments more, listening to each other’s breaths, slowly fixing your clothing as you let your heart rate return to normal. 

“Joel,” you finally have enough strength to say. 

“Yeah, darlin’?”

He hears a faint knock on your door. You pull the phone away to lessen your volume on his end. Just a moment, he hears you call out. “Gonna need more of you when I get home.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel replies more than happily.

After your phone call, Joel cleans and dresses himself up and heads to the kitchen. 

Joel can’t help the way your words bounce around his head. Gonna need more of you when I get home.

“And I’m definitely gonna need a fuck ton of you today,” he mutters to the bag of Colombian coffee grounds he pulls out of his kitchen cabinet. He refills the machine with water, inserts a filter, pours two heaping spoonfuls of the ground beans into the compartment, places a mug, and hits start. He goes to put the coffee away, but it’s then he feels how lightweight the bag is starting to feel. 

Genuinely, he begins to panic. He needs to order more, and he needs to do it now. He cannot go a day without his precious coffee. The brand he orders is online only, and usually he would wait for you to help him place the order, but he doesn’t want to risk hitting the cutoff for same day delivery. 

Joel isn’t that old, and he certainly grows with the time period, but when it comes to technology, he’s worse than your 97-year-old grandmother who attempts to group FaceTime both of you every night. Sure, he knows how to send you pictures, but that’s the extent of his ability. Truly. With his coffee in mind, though, he puts on his bravest face and opens Safari. He searches for the website you’re always on. A, he types. M. A. Z. 

There! Amazon. He clicks the website, not knowing the app is already installed on his phone. He sees the smiling logo, and, proud of himself, he smiles back at it. 

The smile is quick to fade, however, because the intricacies of working the website is giving him heart palpitations. He sets his phone down and reaches for his reading glasses in his pocket and slides them on. He picks up his phone again. 

The thing about using Amazon on a phone through a search engine, though, is that the website is constantly glitching. So when he types in the word coffee, he has zero idea how he ended up on a completely different website, his original search lost in the complicated webs of the internet. 

It takes him a moment to realize what he’s reading, but once it registers, it’s way more interesting than his original task. 

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee, the headline read. His eyes begin to scan lower. Researchers concluded there was a “correlation between caffeine and sex” after testing its effects on rats.

Oh, yeah, he’s intrigued. 

After reading the article, Joel restarts his original task and ends up ordering a larger amount of coffee than he normally would. In the name of science, he rationalized with himself.

Satisfied with his accomplishments, he grabs his mug and takes the time to enjoy his cup of pure caffeine. He needs the energy after all.

You get off promptly at 4pm, not wanting to spend any more time in your office—especially with the way you’ve been buzzing with need ever since your noon phone call. As soon as you park, you see an Amazon delivery person dropping off a box. They don’t ring the doorbell, and you know Joel doesn’t pay attention to the delivery notifications.

You get out of your car, leaving your things to get later. You reach the front porch and unlock and open the door first, bending down and picking up the box second. 

Joel greets you at the door, immediately cursing himself for not paying attention to the door, resulting in you doing the heavy lifting. He knows you’re more than capable—Hell, you could probably handle his job better than he can—but his Southern upbringing is too deeply rooted into him to allow anything less. 

“Hi, my love, I’m sorry, I coulda brought that in, baby,” he tells you as he takes the box from your grasp, giving you a forehead kiss as a trade off. The warmth of his lips physically relaxes you. 

You two walk towards the kitchen, Joel sets the box down on the counter. “I just parked as they dropped it off, honey, it was no biggie,” you reply softly. 

“I know, baby, but you know I-” he starts. You don’t let him finish as you grab him by his biceps and pull him into you, your arms finding their home wrapped around his neck as his grip completely wrapping your waist. Your lips slot together in a slow, needy embrace—your tongues slowly breaching each other’s mouths. You swallow the groans escaping his throat as you pull away from him. 

“I know,” you say breathily, eyes as dark as his morning coffee. “Won’t do it again, promise,” you smile, knowing this is the only false promise you’ll ever make. At the rate of how hard you work him in other things, carrying a few heavy boxes is the least you could do every now and then. “Now, please undress me, baby,” you whimper, your hand skating down the front of his body, your deft fingers sliding into his waistband. 

With one arm around your waist, another claws at your top, untucking it from your jeans to lift it over your head as he kisses and nips all over your jaw and neck. He turns your body so that your ass meets the counter, pushing his hips into yours, silently telling you to jump up. 

Too eager, you don’t realize the trajectory of your jump, and your ass smacks the package, causing it to almost slip off the edge. The impact to your rear surprises you enough to pull away from Joel and look back. Apparently, your brain is already turned to mush because you completely forgot about that box’s existence. 

However, now that you’re looking at it, you’re confused. You haven’t ordered anything recently. Did Joel order something? But he doesn’t even know how- 

“You okay, darlin’?” Joel asks, pausing all his movements. 

“Did you order something?” You ask.

His cheeks go red. “Yeah.. we were runnin’ out of my coffee ‘n I didn’t want to not have any for tomorrow or for later ‘n I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home to help me-” 

The bubbly sounds of your giggles are what cut him off. “What?” He asks, slightly defensive and slightly giddy at the sweetness blessing his ears. 

“You ordered something!” You exclaim. “You ordered something! And you were successful with it!” You’re gasping for air, speaking your excitement into his chest as you wrap yourself around him. 

“Don’t make fun a’me,” he pouts, grabbing your chin with his thumb and forefinger, giving your face a little scolding shake. 

“Oh, baby, no,” you coo, your laughter calming down because of the pain in your cheeks from smiling so wide. “I’m not making fun. I’m so proud!” your voice raises back up, as if you were talking to a baby who hit their first big milestone. 

He rolls his eyes. “Baby, don’t be like that,” you say as you lean in to give him a soft kiss. He gives in, of course, and he deepens it. “I really am proud,” you say as you attempt to pull away. 

He doesn’t let you. “Yeah, yeah,” he says sardonically in between kisses. 

Your hand drags up and grabs at his jaw, pulling him away so you can speak. “Now you don’t have to ask me to order things for you anymore,” you say with a smirk.

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” he breathes, trying to push against your hold on him. “Worst experience ever, I even-” 

He cuts himself off because he was so caught up in you when you got home, he forgot about the little detour his internet experience took him on today. 

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee. 

“Actually,” he redirects. “Can we have some now?”

Your eyes pop out of your head in astonishment. “Right now?” you ask in disbelief. 

He gulps. “Y-yeah, right now. That okay?”

You don’t see why not besides the fact that his erection has been perched right against the soaked fabric of your panties for the last fifteen minutes and you’ll probably go mad if you don’t actually get relief in the next five minutes—but yeah, sure. Why not?

“I guess?” You say. Or ask? You really don’t know anymore. 

Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would.

You’re not really a coffee person. Sure, you have a cup here and there—mostly iced and from your favorite local shop on your way to work—but compared to Joel, you are nowhere near the level he is. 

“How do you want it?” He asks, his back turned to you as he prepares two mugs. 

“Rough,” you mutter, slightly annoyed. You can feel the slick in your underwear start to get cold—and dry. 

Joel briefly turns around catching your eye; he points to his ear. “Say that again, sweetheart?” 

Fuck. Okay, maybe you’re being a little too bitchy. You rise from your seat at the counter, perching yourself right beside him, reaching your hand into his curls to give him a little head scratch. “I’ll do it, baby,” you say. “Thank you.” With your hand still at the back of his head, you guide him to look at you as you stand on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss.

The coffee, honestly, wasn’t that bad. Yeah, you put your usual creamer and sugar, but you put slightly less—curious to get a glimpse of the natural flavor Joel loves so much. You could get used to it like this, you think. One thing is for sure, though: the brand Joel buys is fucking strong. You’re on your last sip, and you are struggling—you can feel your heart pumping out of your chest, and you swear you feel like your entire body is pulsing. Like you can hear your blood coursing through your veins. You don’t tell Joel because you don’t want to sound weird, so you shrug the feeling away and take your last sip. Perfectly in sync with you, Joel finishes off his coffee and reaches for your mug to also bring to the sink. 

Quickly letting the faucet run into the mugs so the coffee doesn’t stain, Joel speaks up. “How was it, darlin’? I know you don’t really enjoy coffee the way I do,” he notes. 

“Actually, baby, I really enjoyed it,” you say with a genuine smile. 

“Yeah?” He asks, a boyish grin sneaking past his lips.

“Yeah,” you reassure. “It was really strong, though,” you add. 

“Strong?” he asks, eyebrow quirked. 

“Yeah, um-” you start, unsure of how to describe it. “I don’t know, I just- I’ve never had coffee make my entire body feel like- like it’s buzzing or something. I don’t know,” you ramble. 

“Huh,” he says to no one in particular. “I mean, it is one of the stronger roasts,” he tells you. Is this because you were already severely worked up beforehand? It can’t be the placebo effect—he didn’t even tell you about his discoveries. 

Guess there’s only one way to go from here. 

Not giving you a chance to respond, his hands find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. He kisses your jaw, trailing his lips down the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your head falls back onto him, your eyes fluttering shut as you give him full access. His fingers skate across the front of your jeans, your shirt already untucked from his earlier attempt. Your hips buck into his hands in response, a whiny little please leaves your mouth. 

“Shh, I got ya, sweet girl,” he rasps in your ear, his drawl licking a heat up your spine. He adjusts himself so he’s the one leaning against the kitchen counter, your body entirely relying on his support to keep you standing. 

He’s unbuttoning your jeans and right away you’re reaching for the zipper, helping him pull your bottoms down in one go. 

You’re shaking in his grasp, too pent up with a need your body doesn’t know what to do with. “Relax, baby, I’ma take care a’ya,” he says with a nip to your shoulder, his middle and ring finger already finding their place running through your soaked folds. 

Your eyes shut at the sensation, your breathing erratic and vocal. He drags your slick up to your throbbing bundle of nerves, circling with a precision only he knows how to provide. “F-fuck,” you moan. His other hand slides down to your sex, his two fingers going straight for your entrance and sliding in with ease with how much is pouring from you. “Fuckfuckfuck-”

“Gonna cum on my fingers, babygirl?” He’s pumping in and out of you at a languid pace even with the squirm of your hips. The stimulation on your clit never falters. “I can feel that pretty pussy flutter ‘round me, darlin’, I know she’s close.”

“J-Joel, please,” you let out, your head bobbing back and forth, unable to keep its heavy weight up.

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s using his foot to kick your legs further apart, settling yours on the outside of his, and then both of you are dropping to the ground. His back is to the wall of the kitchen island while you land perfectly spread open atop his lap. Not worried about his or your balance anymore, he fucks into you harder, applying more pressure on your clit—the kind that makes you want to force your legs shut but you can’t, not with the way his own legs are keeping you open. “Open your eyes, sweet girl, need ya to look at yourself when you fuckin’ soak me.”

You open your eyes immediately and cast your eyes downward to his hands on you. “Nuh uh,” Joel tuts. His hand working your clit comes up to your jaw, your slick dampening your jaw as he guides you to look straight forward. Your reflection stares back at you from the dark oven window. Even in the dull image its showing you, you can see the way your pussy is glistening in the fluorescent kitchen light, the sweat dripping down your temples, your fucked-out face with Joel’s dark gaze ravaging every part of you. 

Everything—all of your senses—is completely Joel, Joel, Joel, and before you know it, you’re gushing into his hand; his newfound liquid gold ever since he met you, collecting into the depths of his palm, all while you’re roaring and thrashing out in pure bliss on top of him. 

The sight, sound, the feel, everything—just like you—consumes him whole. His lust takes over now, and his hands aren’t stopping. They continue their pace—their assault—on your sensitive core. He peers down over your shoulder, and his cock grows impossibly harder at the messy, slippery sight before him. “Christ,” he mutters under his breath. “Gimme one more, c’mon,” he breathes in, your scent beginning to linger into his nose, crawling into his skin and finding its home there. “I know you can gimme one more, baby, always such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”

Your head is nodding furiously as you fight with your eyes to stay open and locked on your reflection. Your babbling, spit thick and coating every inch of your mouth as you try and respond. Mhm and one and more and fuck break free from your mouth, giving all the green light Joel needs to know he isn’t going too far. 

You turn your head to face Joel, your hand flying to the back of his curls and pulling him for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue—an intermingling of each other’s spit as you swallow the other’s coffee-tinged breaths. 

He feels the flutter in your cunt once more, but this time it’s stronger, tighter. The way you’re clamping down on him sends him into a frenzy, his hips rutting his erection into your lower back at the feel of your warmth wrapped around him. “C’mon, baby, let go, I feel you,” he encourages. 

“Fuck-!” A high-pitched gasp turned whine comes out of your mouth as your entire body goes rigid, your pussy uncontrollably fluttering and spasming as Joel fucks you through your high. All you see is white, your body is engulfed by a tingly feeling that only describing it as TV static could do it justice. Your breathing is deep and shallow all at one, but more notably, you feel wet. Completely and utterly soaked, you can feel liquid pooling at your asscheeks and on the hardwood floor. 

You finally gather the strength to look down—Joel too, and he steals the words right from your mouth. “Holy. Fuck.”

You two stay there for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts on what the fuck just happened, and finally, you speak first. 

“I just-” you start. 

“You did,” he finishes, equally as shocked. Amazed. 

“How are we gonna-”

He rubs your thighs. “Can you stand?” 

You think for a moment. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll get up first. Then I’ll pull you up. Just don’t move, I don’t need ya slippin’ on-”

“Yeah, okay,” you stop him, feeling slightly embarrassed about it all. 

He stands up, avoiding the little puddle below; then he pulls you up, kneeling to pull your underwear on for some sense of emotional comfort. “Hey.” He nudges your face with his hand to look into his eyes. “That was fuckin’ incredible. Ya hear me?” Heat washes over your entire face. You say nothing. “It was so fuckin’ hot and sexy and so so beautiful, I’m fuckin’ lucky to have witnessed somethin’ so heavenly, darlin’.” He pulls you in for a kiss. “Ya hear me?” he repeats his question, softer this time. 

The embarrassment washes away in an instant. “Well,” you look into his eyes, a flash of trouble dancing across your orbs. “Felt fuckin’ incredible, too.”

“Yeah,” Joel says, grabbing and guiding your hand down to his cock. “It did feel mighty incredible,” smugness written all over his face. 

He dips your hand inside his pants, and you're met with his half-hard, sticky length. “Joel, did you-”

“That I did, baby, that I did.” 

A moment passes, and you burst out into laughter for the second time tonight. Only this time, Joel joins in, completely taking advantage of how sweet the comedown always is with you.

“I think I oughta drink more of that coffee,” you say out of the blue, taking Joel completely off guard as he finishes wiping up your… spill. 

“Why?” he asks, trying to maintain a normal tone.

“I swear, Joel,” you whisper as if there’s other people listening in. “I swear that coffee is the reason I finished so… intensely,” you finish, your eyebrows raised in intrigue and curiosity. 

“You really think so?” Joel asks, a victory smile threatening to escape him. 

“Yeah,” you tell him. “I think we should test it out. You’re off tomorrow, yeah?”

“Well, I am now.”

End note: The article Joel stumbled upon is a real article LOL. Here it is, in case any of you were interested. The article is from 2023, so by all means, picture 56 year old Joel. I’m imagining him a bit younger in this lil AU, but there’s no explicit age description, so imagine whatever the hell you want😘. And in case you were wondering: yes, he ends up telling you about his intentions behind wanting to drink coffee first. Let's just say... you both end up getting hyperfixated on trying to "prove" this theory even though you both damn well know what the result is. ;) All my love, I hope you guys enjoyed.💚

Be sure to follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to stay up to date with my stories!!

Utilizing my taglist a few more times just to have a slow transition to my updates blog! @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @survivingandenduring @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @axshadows @yorksgirl

[beautifulpersonpeach]

You know what I love so much about BTS's music is when you've not listened to a song or album for a while and when you do not only are you reminded of how good it is, but also sometimes songs you already like and have heard countless times before you suddenly latch onto unexpectedly. It happens to me often with their music, the latest song for me being Let me know. It just got it's claws into me on my Dark and Wild revisit and I've had it on repeatedly the past few days. I don't know what it is about them or their music that manages to just keep grabbing at you the way it does, maybe it's because their discography is so large and varied, but whatever it is I'm very grateful.

***

That’s the thing about excellent quality: it’s timeless. It doesn’t matter how old their songs are, how much you replay them, or whatever. When you listen to BTS’s music, you know it’s good because it feels incredible.

Your experience with Let Me Know is one I relate to so hard. That song was released in 2014 you know. BTS were really dropping bangers right out the gate. Like, it’s no surprise they blew up the way they did because they just had the best music point blank period.

They still do.

The songs I’ve revisited recently that made me feel similarly to you are:

- Mikrokosmos: Not a bad song at all, but one I usually skip and don’t add to my playlists because it’s not exactly my taste and it often reminds me of BTS concerts and that’s a sore topic for me recently. But I was traveling this past weekend and browsing music on the plane, and saw it then played it on a whim. And man, it hit me again just how good that song is. BTS knows how to make good music and execute it perfectly every time.

- I NEED U (Remix): There’s this view in the fandom that BTS only recently started putting out several remixes, but while they’ve certainly put out more in recent years to match pace with Western practices, they’ve also always kinda been into remixes. And back in my day, the fandom actually made it a point to enjoy the remixes. I Need U remix is one such remix I used to jam out to back then, and while playing some of my older lists recently to prepare for Hobi’s birthday, this song played and the nostalgia hit me like a truck.

- Lost: This is the most underrated song in BTS’s discography. It’s one of the songs where you just have to watch the live performance and see the choreography. It’s just too good. In fact, Lost > The Truth Untold. By a mile. Jungkook’s voice and insane runs in that song are something you just have to experience for yourself.

They dropped that banger 3 years after their debut.

- Go Go: This song is what solidified BTS’s success in 2017. Not DNA imo. Just listen to their voices in this song. Listen to how they sing, how unrefined and passionate it is. They sound like they’re having fun. I forgot about Go Go until a few weeks ago and it’s in my rotation again.

- Fly to my Room: Songs like this is why BTS is on top of the k-pop food chain. Nobody in the entire industry can arrange and pull off a song like this: choir/gospel with a fuckass organ + gutter trap + Hoseok’s verse… like, god. Those whispered harmonies in the final chorus before the crescendo outro. Jimin’s high notes…. It’s just such a serve of a song. They killed it.

- Spinebreaker: Someone asked me recently how the rapline became my bias, if I started with one rapline member then the rest followed, or if it was all at once. I didn’t answer that ask but anon if you’re reading this, the answer is all at once. I’d liked the rapline since debut but I think it was this song that did it for me. All of them on this track are insane. From the moment I heard Joon’s voice at the start I just accepted my fate.

Anyway, thanks for this ask Anon. BTS are so loved because they put their heart and soul into the music they make and it shows. It’s why streaming their stuff has never felt like a chore for me. I look forward to listening to their music every day I wake up. It makes my life better. I’m happy it seems to be at least a bit similar for you too.

[c00kiejar]

This song...

I've never really made a proper post before, just shitposts and the occasional art thing. I want to make one to properly express how I feel right now and why this song represents it perfectly. I will warn you first, however, that this mentions a certain YouTuber who was recently completely destroyed on Twitter and my personal experience as a viewer, and may delve into some not-too-happy thoughts

Still here? Let's dive in

It all starts way back when I was still a kid. I was navigating the wonderful site known as YouTube, trying to find videos on videogames and, specifically, I think it was Super Paper Mario. I had no idea how to beat Chapter 2-3 (the Ruby debt one), and I needed help. That's when I stumbled across a YouTuber called Chuggaaconroy (a.k.a. Emile). The way he provided all the information I needed in one video was exactly what I needed. I couldn't subscribe to his channel because I didn't have a Google account, so I just periodically checked his channel, eventually learning he uploaded every day at 5 PM, perfect for younger me. I'd watch his videos when they came out, loving every single one. I eventually discovered his collab channel, The Runaway Guys, and loved that channel even more. He, Proton Jon (Jon) and NintendoCapriSun (Tim) entertained me for YEARS with their content. I even branched out into Jon's streaming community, becoming a semi-regular artist on the booru for a time (you can still find my stuff there under the name TehSm1tty. Not my best work, but I still like some of it). Years come and go, and I have my fair share of mental health troubles, but I'd always find Emile, Jon, and Tim there to brighten my days.

Fast forward to sometime last week. I've been pretty inactive on Twitter aside from my alts, but I decided to see what was popping on main. I log in and get recommended a post with the hashtag "WeStandWithChugga". I had no idea what was going on, so I looked into it. I won't go into detail here, but the jist of it is that Emile was a total creep to many women and even drove wedges between himself and good friends because of this weird behavior. There's a lot more to this than just that, but the point is that it shattered my view of him. I knew he was pushy and that always kinda annoyed me, but the extent of it broke me. For a few days now, I've been having a rough go of it. I mean, my childhood YouTuber just got outed as a complete creep and has some serious allegations of being at least a lolicon, at worst a pedo. I've been down and out for days, and it just wouldn't stop. That is, until I found out that Tim has a Reddit account. I never knew this (or, well, maybe I did and just forgot. Idfk), and was amazed to learn that Tim's been keeping Reddit updated on what he's able/willing to share. Turns out Emile's getting the help he needs at a legit mental hospital and that he's ok. That's what made everything stop. Hearing he's ok. After all the shit Emile has done, he's still a human being and doesn't deserve to have the whole internet turn on him in a fraction of a second. Hearing a fellow human is ok made me feel better. I'm not letting him off the hook, and I do not believe he should ever be forgiven for what he's done, but if he is willing to better himself and become a better person, I am more than willing to believe in that Emile.

Now to come to roughly 40 minutes ago. I decide to boot up Satisfactory and play a bit, but I have no idea what to listen to while I do. I put on a song but quickly get bored of it, and then I see "OMORI | Do You Remember? | Extended" in my recommendations. I put it on and instantly, as if I were splashed in the face by water, I wake up and feel better. I was still stressed about everything going on (I'm set to go to college in September, AND my folks are headed to Mexico in about a week, so I'm stressed from those too), but with the first note on the piano, everything faded. All my swirling negative emotions were replaced with a somber peace. I'm still hurt by the last week's revelations, and I'm never going to truly recover (who could?), but I'm moving on. I think my comment on the video describes how I feel best; "The sad yet peaceful feeling this song evokes in me... It's pretty much how I feel today. I feel at peace... or, well, mostly. There's still pain, and there always will be, but I can move on and I'll live. In the future, I'll look back on this last week and feel sad, but that'll be in the future when this is all over with for good, so I can also look back at before it and be happy that those good times happened. Nothing will ever be the same, but such is the way of the world. Saying goodbye is saying hello to the future, and we all need to do that eventually. Who knows what the future may hold? I, for one, can't wait to see. Hello future, and goodbye sadness".

Chuggaaconroy was an inspiration and a light in the sea of darkness for so, so many, and these revelations have snuffed the light he provided out. What I hope is that Emile takes a long, long break from the internet to become the person we all believed him to be, to truly become that bright light in the dark, rather than just another dark figure holding a flashlight. I don't hope for that as a supporter of him as I don't support who he is right now (as if I haven't said it enough), I hope for that as a fellow human who only wishes to see everyone become the best version of themself.

I think this post was exactly what I needed. I've finally gotten everything out in a cohesive (maybe?) and healthy manner, and I'm ready to become my best self. I will be beginning work on YouTube videos tomorrow, and will hopefully be posting Thursdays at 5 PM (in honor of DatPags whom has not uploaded in a long time).

To anyone who finished reading this post, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Please, go become your best self, but do not do so by putting others down. Better yourself and acknowledge your flaws, overcome them, and do not repeat Emile's mistakes. Learn from those around you.

Yours truly,

Cookie_Jar of Tumblr dot com

[b0und4gl0ry]

...alrighty I'm home again.

The date went well, (kinda expected since its not our first) and I forgot to mention I watched the other videos you've recorded before I found your account too. Listen, I know you said "no secrets" and all, but are you really being honest, Casey? I don't want to dig too hard... But if it's how you said, why did you say their their name like you were surprised to see them while you tried to sleep? It's definitely faint but you can hear it in the recording. (Also remember to turn off the recording next time unless you want to bloat the hard drive of your laptop with a single video file. you probably don't want to rely on whatever horrific things haunt your sleep to wake you up so you can turn it off.)

Anyways, onto that story;

So, like, a year or so ago. I was sleeping. And suddenly, I had a good old case of sleep paralysis, It was actually pretty common with me, I have it all the time. The normal stuff, hat men, pitch black shadow people, ect.

This event was like the rest of my sleep paralysis experiences, except, no Shadows, voices, or anything. Tried moving to check if I just woke up for no reason. But I couldn't.

Eventually. Something came up to my window. (On the fifth story.) It was pitch black, (which I later found out was a very, very deep shade of red.) It had super long hair, looked kinda like a cats head with droopy ears in kinda a ^ shape, 4 smaller eyes that scanned the room, frantically? And one large eye that was staring directly at me, all with pitch black pupils.

I'll reblog this with a sketch of what it looks like if I can.

It raised up a long, bony arm. And I hear a chattering noise. It points at the door to my room.

But.

But then I realized I could move again.

The creature made another sound, and I noticed the door to my rooms doorknob was rapidly being turned, and then it was getting pounded like a fucking horror movie. The door slowly was being unlocked somehow?? The lock on it was being turned. At this point i glanced at the thing again and it was just looking at the door now with all its eyes. I got up and held the lock and the door closed. After what felt like an hour of banging and something trying to get in, it stopped.

I looked at the window again.

Nothing was there.

I went back to sleep eventually, I didn't have a dream after.

I occasionally see that thing now. One time when I went hiking at night, a few times again when I'm all by myself.

Sorry if this was long winded or unwanted or something. But I think it's an interesting story. I think I'm still here because of that thing. I haven't fully committed to a name for it yet, so I'm open for suggestions. But I'm primarily I'm calling it Lefty because the big eye is on the "left side" of it's face.

- Stace T.

"Yeah, those "Mae" nightmares are the worst. I just get shocked that I see her and hear her. I don't know why I'm having them…is it my guilt about leaving? Paranoia? I don't know.

"But Mae…she's a good friend from my old hometown. She's done nothing wrong"

"Also, that's a sick ass story. Wild as shit, but cool. I could see a novel about a person dealing with their strange cat demon"

"Nice to see we have similar shit going on. Continue these stories if you want"

"But, what I think is more likely is you had one of those "awake but not" dreams. Where you wake up but you're still dreaming. I have those a bunch"

"Also, I'm glad your date went well. Sorry, it kinda took a seat behind all the spooky shit"

"Also, that's a sick ass story. Wild as shit, but cool. I could see a novel about a person dealing with their strange cat demon"

"Nice to see we have similar shit going on. Continue these stories if you want"

(ooc: I'm not sure how familiar Stace is with the source material this AU is from, which is Night In The Woods, but to anyone who doesn't know too much about it, I highly recommend it! It clears things up about Casey a little...I don't know if that comes off condescending or not. I'm not good with communicating sometimes)

[mediawhorefics]

Do you have any hot tales about tsn?

tsn hot takes ??? gosh, idk if they're hot takes but i have opinions?

i'm sorry to rpf on main but 'andrew garfield was in love with jesse eisenberg' is a hilll i'm going to die on.

similarly, andrew garfield played eduado as in love with mark and watching the movie through that lens enriches the whole experience. fight me.

tsn deserved to win best picture in 2011. out of all the nominees that year, it's the one that has only gained relevance as time passes and had something to say about our culture, both back then and right now. i think it's almost more relevant now than back then. its social commentary on the way we live our lives on the internet is pretty spot on. i mean 'the internet is written in ink'. give me one line better from another movie that year. we lived on farms then we lived in cities and now we're gonna live on the internet?? damn.

this isnt an opinion, more like an observation? back in 2010, people complained about the harsh depiction of zuck but he's worked so hard to prove the movie not only right but also now it almost reads as mild compared to who that guy actually is. it's fascinating in terms of tsn's cultural legacy. where's that one quote from that article about tsn turning 10 yo? the movie couldn't predict what facebook would turn into (in terms of misinformation and manipulation of information) but it understood that the desire to tear down the establishment is not the same as the wish to build something better in its place? anyways, that.

it has one of the greatest soundtracks ever. i don't think any movie has topped it since. that opening sequence with hand covers bruise? holy shit.

i always wonder if it does enough to condemn the elitist misogynistic culture of those rich harvard guys/those rich tech guys. like... i always joke that it's one of my 'ooops the filmmakers forgot women were people' favourite films (i have a few of those) but at the same time, it feels very pointed and purposeful in its depiction. and we know that fincher has a history of exploring toxic masculinity as a theme without explicitly condemning it and trusting his audience to get the message. which, honey, men are not smart. i mean, we get the iconic erica moment telling us from the start 'it'll be because you're an asshole' and then the movie proceeds to prove that to us. but is that enough? is the movie sexist or is the character? or both? i don't know i kinda go back and forth on this. again not a take, just thoughts.

i read this one letterboxd review like a year ago that said something along the line of: best movie of all time they have him tell us ' i don't want friends' in the first eight minutes and it blew my fucking mind. they literally tell us in the first eight minutes, aaron sorkin i just want to talk.

i love him and would kill for him, but eduardo telling mark 'i was your only friend you had one friend' was not only untrue but kinda manipulative. not that mark didn't deserve it.

high key this is one of the most quotable movies of all time. did you know i sent forty-seven texts???

there are whole worlds of unsaid things in the 'you have no idea what that's going to mean to my father' 'sure i do' i am OBSESSED with their relationship.

eduardo's bitchy 'is he?' when sean says he's wired in before the laptop smash is just as, if not more, iconic than the rest of the speech.

andrew was robbed of both a nomination and an oscar for this performance. i stand by it.

2011 golden globes jesse eisenberg dragging andrew gafield out of his chair top awards moment of all time. you had to be there.

people will bitch about tsn rpf and people writing fic about mark zuckerberg but where would we (tumblr) be as a society without jesse and andrew's 'you didn't know me at 13' 'i really wish i had'. where would your pining web-weaving fandom posts be without mr garfield's embarrassingly public crush on his facebook movie co star? check and mate.

genuinely think it would have solved a lot of their problems if mark and eduardo had fucked. or it would have created other different problems. either way, a win.

we all know it should have ended with mark sending eduardo a friend request. literally the only flaw in this film.

i honestly think the tsn press tour is on like... lotr bts footage level in terms of ~as enjoyable if not more than the original film. and i don't say this lightly. it's one of the highest praise i've got.

i'm a basic bitch but every single scene of mark defending eduardo post-betrayal is like.... [SCREAM]

it IS the greatest divorce movie of our time. marriage story fucking wishes mate.

tsn is 100% a girl movie. like red flag for men green flag for women (& gnc people) kind of stuff.

it's on par with all of shakespeare's best tragedies. for me.

lmao when i read this ask i thought damn i won't have much to say and now i have to stop myself because my food is ready and i'm starting. anyways this is barely scratching the surface. i might come back for a part two?

[public-trans-it]

Fleurs de Mort

Content warnings for cults, death, suicide ideation, and mental trauma

A lot of people have a fairly common fear of death. I… kinda don’t. I have a pretty uncommon fear of death, I think.

For those not in the know, I used to be in a cult. Cult in several scare quotes. The creators never intended it to become a cult, and it was only meant to be like a study group for the overlap of occultism and the founders spirituality. Specifically around how their view of the afterlife was shaped by the three of them being Jewish people that got into occultism. I should stress that there were no fees or divisions of labor or any of the manipulation tactics that make cults dangerous, which is why I’m hesitant to actually call it one.

It was, however, in ever sense of the word a death cult, but not the kind you hear about in media. It was focused on growth, and suicide was considered the single worst thing a person could do. It was about exploring occult teachings to explore your own life in new ways, and grow to be more and more, because when you died you became something more. Something greater. And you required lived experiences to grow enough to survive in that new state.

The founders of the cult did a lot of work, filtering out people who had a mental state that might not mesh well with it. The first signs of depression or suicidal ideation and they would pull you aside and do their best to help you because they were well aware of how dangerous the subject matter was and none of them wanted blood on their hands.

Unfortunately, I didn’t really… interact much. I wasn’t that active a member. I just kind of observed passively. So there were no red flags, nothing they could have spotted or done to pull me aside and help me. They had no way of knowing what was happening inside my head, and how it changed me, at a fundamental level.

I ended up leaving, explain my mental health was in a bad state and it wouldn’t be safe for me to be around the subject matter much longer. The heads of the cult understood and wished me the best. We still talked for a while after that, played minecraft together a few times. Watched some movies. Just stayed friends for a bit before slowly drifting apart.

But the seed of that flower had already been planted deep in my mind, and had begun growing into something else. Blossoming isn’t the right word for what it did though. It constrained a part of my mind. All those teachings, all my neuroses, it bound them together tight and sealed them away in the back of my mind, repressed thoughts I forgot even existed until about a year ago. That became my first alter, the first hint of my DID as my mind fractured itself to stop the growth of that seed. It now lies dormant, pruning itself, culling away aspects of my personality that are unsatisfactory to it. The rest of us are slaughtered, rarely surviving more than a few months, torn apart and stitched back together as the pieces of us that fall away are used as the fertilizer for its growth.

The only time it awakens is long enough to stop me from pulling the trigger when things get to bad. It won’t ever help me fix my life, help me do the things I need to make the pain stop. Pain and suffering is inconsequential to it. They are just more lived experiences with which it can foster its own growth. As long as I don’t pull the trigger, as long as I don’t take that step off the edge, it doesn’t care what happens to me.

If I manage to fix my life and get it on the right track? Well that’s useful. Those parts make the best fertilizer for what it needs to grow, and so it cuts those parts away and digs its roots into them, hiding them away from me. It’s frustrating, and it makes life incredibly difficult.

The person I am changes so quickly, rebuilding myself out of the scraps it leaves behind. Making an identity or two out of the remains and hoping against hope that this time it’s functional enough to allow me to live without drawing its attention.

And so I’m left here, thinking about life, and about death. Most people fear death as an end. What if nothing exists after it? How horrifying, they think. My fear of death is far more complex. I’ve felt it so many times, felt my identity crumble and be ripped apart. If the death of my body was just that again, I have nothing to fear.

My fear, is that it’s not the end. My fear is this plant finally blooming, and what will happen after that. Will it take us with it? Will it leave us behind? Are we just a means to and end for it? Something to be discarded after this stage of our existence is over with?

I have lived with this thing in my head for nearly a decade now. And my fear is that only in death will I find out if it was the tether holding me together, or the parasite ripping me apart.

[cozcat]

are you a big reader? have you read anything good lately?

I FORGOT I DIDN'T RESPOND TO THIS but yeah i guess you could say i'm a big reader at [checks storygraph] 93 books this year. so I'll give you five highlights from recently.

I finished the Deverry series by Katharine Kerr, and although I wasn't overwhelmed by the ending, I wasn't expecting to be - I did, however, still enjoy it, and it's a series I'd recommend if you want a sprawling and complex high fantasy involving reincarnation across the centuries. (that being said: it's pretty committed to very Traditional Gender Roles as it's based on a Dark Ages-equivalent society. so go in knowing that.)

Gwen & Art Are Not In Love by Lex Croucher is a very fun medieval YA about two royals, betrothed since birth, who hate each other's guts, but enter an uneasy alliance when they each find out the other is queer.

the Nevermoor series by Jessica Townsend is middle grade fantasy about a neglected and lonely child who is suddenly whisked away on the eve of what should be the day of her death to compete for a place in a magical society in a place called Nevermoor and it is so fun. I read it wanting a recommendable replacement for a certain other series that has a similar sounding premise but this is so good, very much stands on its own (you kinda have to twist your words to make it sound as similar as I did and the resemblance does fall away pretty quickly). also it's nice to read about normalised queer characters in a series for kids.

Still Life With Bones by Alexa Hagerty is a fascinating autobiography about her work in Guatemala and Argentina, excavating mass graves from the wars there. Hagerty is not a forensic anthropologist but rather a (I believe) social anthropologist, so a lot of the book is talking to the living, not merely about the dead.

and Small Island by Andrea Levy, quite frankly, blew me away. this is about Jamaican immigrants to the UK after World War Two, and their experiences during and after the war, as well as those of the white woman who takes them in as lodgers. beautifully written, deeply emotional, it ripped my heart out. honestly, I don't have the words for how much I loved this. (and although I watched it a few years ago, I'd say now, having read the book, that it is an excellent adaptation.)

yeah there's been some bangers this year

[aberrant-winter]

Murder Drones experience- Word Count: 615

Hi nobody will prolly read dis and that's good it's great it's fantastic so nobody can see my stupid ramblings

Anyway

When i join a new fandom i'm usually super chill, i search a few drawings to feed on look at, if i can i draw the characters i like tge must but i usually do that wayyy later like weeks the months or years or never

And i never make ocs, i did make a Peppiclone oc but It's because everyone else's obsession with Pizza Tower kinda dragged me down as well but i never liked PT THAT MUCH. It's cool but i don't love it with my entire soul and go apeshit every time i see PT stuff

Maybe it's because i mostly stay in old fandoms and i probably was obsessed with them a lot as a kid but over time the intrest faded and faded to the point where i don't "LOVE" it anymore, i just like It

B U T with Murder Drones i finally felt this again. It's been years since i liked something so much, more than 7? Prob

And i kinda forgot how it felt! So now i'm lost and confused and i keep on asking myself if it's normal or if i should be locked up in an asylu-

So. Didn't vibe with Murder Drones cuz it was too popular and seemed like a cringey thing. Then i saw an incredibile Murder Drones animation and thought.. fine whatev i'll try and i was ABSOLUTELY BLOWN AWAY. Didn't expect that at all

Watched the full season and immediately drew my favorite character. With other fandoms it takes weeks to do that

Watched the entire season a second time and then i doodled even more characters (in another fandom it would take YEARS or i would not do that at all)

Searched many fan arts to feast on to satisfy my immense hunger of MD content

Considered the idea of making an oc (i usually never do that-)

Considered the idea of buying a plushie (all the official merch plushies i have are either gifts or from ages ago and i have a smol amount lke very very smol and only characters)

Watched the entire season A THIRD TIME

And considered the idea of making a MD Diorama/ Bendy wire posable figure

I only made dioramas with fandoms i've been in more than 2 years and the posable figs are all just fnaf. And uhh yeah that fandom is old as fuk)

All of this happened in LESS THAN A WEEK-

And with any other fandom it would have been wayyyyyy slowerrr

I went batshit crazy super sayan mode and i still am-

It's concerning and i don't know how to make this stop

If i should try to stop myself or embrace It

I mean- this is great tho! I'm usually very low on motivation. I don't do shit and spend the entire day watching YouTube

With Artfight i have a bit more motivation but with MD too

I finally feel... Alive

Like i genuiley enjoy what i'm making instead of forcing myself to draw random things just to do something

Most of the time i'll be like "try to draw this character because idk just do It to pass the time" it feels forced . For some reason and i don't even know why

But now it's "OMG!!! this character is so cool i have to draw it! I absolutely want to see how it would look like in my art style and all the fun poses i could do! Sadly it's kinda hard to draw but that's fine. Just practice and ur good"

[iantimony]

vacation tuesday

in the grandma zone this week! technically evangelion spoilers in the watching section skip that if u care

listening: more just king things, started listening to sangfielle again but i need to go read recaps or wiki pages for the first few arcs because i listened to them sooooo long ago...

reading: read more short stories in the birthday of the world! finished "unchosen love" and read "mountain ways".

"unchosen love": sooooo good and cute. the "why, old man jenkins died fifty years ago!!"-style twist was very charming and it was really delightful seeing how quickly personalities and motivations can be established in such a short word count. 8/10.

"mountain ways": GENDER. the ending was a little confusing (was she gonna like. kill herself?? kill them????) but i think it tied itself up nicely. 9/10.

(the first few stories that i read a few weeks ago and didn't review:

"coming of age in karhide": i haven't finished left hand of darkness so it took a minute to get into it but i thought this one was good. interesting society/worldbuilding, the characters felt kinda secondary but it was very cool flavortext. 6/10.

"the matter of seggri": it could be very easy to misread this one as a weird "what if MEN were oppressed, wouldn't that be wild"-style thought experiment but i think it goes a little deeper than that. definitely a Societal Commentary. it made me a little sad. 7/10.)

watching: FINISHED evangelion (didn't watch ep 26, we watched 25 realized it was bizarre and not in a fun way and watched the movie instead). i understand now why people were pissed about the original ending. very unsatisfying. the movie was very weird but i liked it. my predictions (quote from texting my brother about it "i think the robot is his mom. don't tell me if im right. i also think rei is his mom. also don't tell me if im right.") i mainly think it's hilarious that the creators were like "uhhh we dont know shit about christianity or kabbalah or anything we just thought it was ~~exotic~~ and cool. if we'd known how popular this would get in the west we might have rethought that one. oops". the freud shit was ... fine ....... kinda hate it but ykno. good for analysis or whatever.

making: i brought the tank top knitting project that i need to finish with me to visit my grandma but i have instead been neocities website brainstorming! the purple/bottom left will be the homepage, weekly roundup will be top left, and top right will be some sort of interests/hobbies directory maybe?? i may also link those individual pages (poems i like, fandom interests, etc etc) directly from the home page instead of making it its own directory, not sure yet. also i designed a page in progress graphic hehe

webbed site.....oh shit i forgot a lil mongoose tail. gotta add that

misc: visiting my grandma is fiiiine, she is so old and so fragile which makes me stressed but obviously i'm glad i'm getting a visit in. my mom is also down here visiting my other grandma (her mom) so i'm getting to see other family too which is good :)

oh and i got a late valentines present in the mail from my bf and oughhhh aughhh it's SO good. i'll post pics soon my mom just got here :)

[lady-lycany]

A little religious rant, feel free to ignore. (It's more like a diary entry for me.)

A few months ago, I was so proud about the progress I made, when it comes to finding closer to god again... Now I am almost back at the beginning and idek why. Nothing happened that would justify this.

Doesn't mean, that I forgot what's morally right or wrong... Like my feels know, if somethings good or bad... But where does he draw the line.

I know, they're supposed to be the purest beings ... But what if it's all made up and just a lie... What if they just pretend. Punish bad people seems right, but it's not adding up with "blabla we forgive everyone, Jesus died for your sins. All you need to do, is to accept his gift and enjoy your life" n stuff like that... I mean... everyone has a different way of enjoying things... and some are not really.... morally right... I want to stay on the right side with my heart but my mind is fighting against it...

2022 Years ago, there were only sticks and stones... No technology whatsoever... What if these "religious" beings are just aliens, that mess with us and use us like an experiment... I mean giving us 10 rules, to see if we follow them... Creating multiple religions on earth and see what happens... Helping a few people to keep the beliefs up, while the majority of humanity suffers more and more each and every year...

I really want to stay on the good side... Not because it feels right, but because I kinda feel forced to do so... I love revenge, I love mean karma, I love watching people suffer that deserve it. I love to see bloody, brutal stuff... I would love to get my revenge and hurt the people that hurt me a while ago... Back then I had almost every night dreams, where I got my revenge by killing them in the most brutal ways to get my anger out... But I know that it's morally wrong and try to distance myself from it, again- not really cuz I want to, but because it feels like I have to. And surprisingly, it worked for a very long time... I got so far, that I manage to dream of these people but without hurting them...

This whole situation is literally once again a fight with my inner demon (Vec) cuz I'm like "We need to stay good" and she's like "What does good even mean? And who cares?"

[rubyr0tten]

A quick story about a memory I had a bit ago. This memory sparked cause I’ve been thinking a lot about my sexuality and kinda realizing I think I’m a lesbian, which is crazy when I’ve been with so many men, I know that the idea of spending my life with a man actually makes me so fucking sad and it’s heartbreaking to know how much time I wasted other people’s time and feeling I hurt bc I couldn’t figure my shit out none the less the memory….

I was in 6th grade about 10/11 and after class everyday we’d all have to wait in the cafeteria for buses I can’t remember why but I remember meeting her there for the first time, she was in 8th grade, she had long black hair and she was so emo, I can faintly imagine her, I had completely forgotten her until today, I don’t know her name but I remember her having to move in the middle of the year I think, I just know I never saw her after that and eventually I forgot about her completely. Still for a few months I would see her after or before class and talk a bit with her she was shy and a little mean I would watch how she would write her poems and how she held herself, I remember basically drooling over this girl. She was a bit older and I didn’t even think about being gay or anything (I had some experiences in the past that make it p obvious but growing up Christian had kinda beaten the idea out of me) I never really realized how much I wanted to impress her and get to know her until year after.

There was one day, the last memory I have of her really, this is all so blurry like I said I hadn’t thought of it over 10 years. So this girl let’s call her violet, she was walking to the bus and I see her, she’s kind of avoiding me.

“Violet! Wait up”

She turns around

“What?” I can tell she’s upset almost like she could cry any moment, I want to help her

“ what’s wrong?”

“You don’t wanna know” it seemed like she wanted to tell me but was angry and defensive

“That’s not true, you know I would never judge you”

“Okay fine I’ll just write it though okay?” Violet opens her notebook and starts scribbling

“Okay..” she hands me the book

“Oh I mean…. That makes sense haha”

I stare at the words “I’m a lesbian” under that is a very beautiful drawing of two girls kissing

My stomach was fluttering, I was nervous and excited, *was this a confession to me?*

I truly didn’t have an issue with queer people I had so many queer friends(how was that not a sign to me sooner)

I don’t think she realized this because she stormed off after that and I don’t remember seeing her again much after that.

It took me until well now to realize what those feelings were but still the only reason I didn’t recognize them is because in my mind and in my life I was taught that I cannot be that that I would literally go to hell for being queer that I would go to hell for supporting queer people.

I’m still unlearning in some ways but I’m definitely glad that I can feel more open and be more myself than little me could :)

[yesitsjez]

I just watched Toni talks vlog nga nagfeature kay Maricar Reyes and na blessed jud ko because to be honest there’s a problem with me. I need to be honest but last feb14, valentines, kinda nag expect ko og something but yes wala and i realized hapit nata mag 5yrs but within those years i never received a flowers bsan occasionally nlng. For someone like me who’s not experienced with this gusto lang sab nko ma experience how it feels to be surprised in valentines, birthdays or any occasion, because usually in my family and friends ako ga initiate. I want someone sab nga who will do it for me also. Big or small, it’s really the thought that counts. And i feel like im such a cheap girl for settling. But while watching the vlog I’m crying so much ba because i feel bad on how i treated you. You might not give me flowers but you never fail to remind that Jesus is what I just need. And I’m so thankful because I realize i have someone like you. I’m so busy looking other people lives. I really cried ky few days ago I started praying for detachment. I’m telling the Lord nga am i not that special or deserve to receive a flower or even greetings man lang. because last year, even on my birthdays I didn’t receive sab even greetings. Though u explained it nga it’s not special to you, but it is for me. I was praying for detachment for I thought I’m receiving the treatment that I didn’t wanted. But not knowing and I forgot that the greatest blessing is that YOU as a person always reminds me of goodness in the Lord. You never fail to preach me with His words. And I’m so sorry. In our 5yrs, can we restart again but with repentance and respect to God? Let’s avoid doing unholy things and focus on Him. Dont get me wrong, i still love receiving flowers but i just realized it doesn’t have to revolve on that, love is deeper than that.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (x)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, mentions of violence

Word count: 7.8k (i went overboard. clearly.)

A/N: as well all know, i am a humanities student writing science geeks. if any of this sounds unrealistic or nonsensical, it’s because it is and i am honestly too exhausted to research data privacy and AI so here’s my take on how STEM should work i.e. the power of friendship  <3 major shoutout to @iamlittlesparkler for the idea for this chapter!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

“As you know, we have a busy week ahead of us.” 

Coffees line the conference room table, pens click against the stacks of paper that settle in front of various agents and the smell of deodorant mixed with post-training sweat lingers at the back of the room like a disgusting witch concoction. 

“The annual parade is coming up and since there are a few security threats, SHIELD has been asked to step in. Therefore, all of you will be working security this week, possibly even at the parade.” Murmurs broke out in the room the minute this was said; mostly from first year field agents who were way too excited to have earpieces and fingerless gloves. 

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t think much of it. They’ve dealt with threats before, most were declared empty the minute it got out that SHIELD or the Avengers were involved. It’s the 12th one that year. 

“That’s only if we don’t catch it first,” Steve continued. “Our first priority is precaution. The tech and analytics teams are working on it. However, if you see anything suspicious, bring it up with Director Fury. He’s going to be around to make sure we’re not overlooking anything. Do you have any questions?”

More whispers erupted at the mention of Fury’s name. Wait till they realise he lives up to his name when they accidentally manage to set him off just by existing incorrectly.

Bucky smirks at the thought.

“You can leave then.” Steve straightens up as chairs shuffle against the carpeted floor, over twenty people leaving the room.

“And remember, if you see an eagle today, be sure to stand there and thank it on behalf of Steve for its service. Freedom! Liberty! And whatever else,” Tony calls out from the corner of the room, earning a sigh from the captain. Others only snicker as they close the door behind them.

“Thanks.” Steve stares at him stone faced, bemused at the symbolism that had been bestowed upon him.

“Gotta keep the patriotism high.” The only ones that remain are the official team. Bucky thinks that he should have left with the other agents but apparently, it was rude and not a good show of team spirit.

“How serious is this threat anyway?” Clint has his head face down on the table, hand holding his to-go coffee cup so it doesn’t fall over. 

“We’re not sure.” Steve finally takes a seat on the chair in front of him. “It’s the biggest event we’ve had this year, wouldn’t put it past them.”

“If it’s those Welsh kids again, I’m gonna punch a hole through their house this time,” Clint warns, voice muffled through the furniture.��

“It’s not them, we checked.” Nat had her leg up on the armrest of Clint’s chair. “Tech team’s been working overtime to figure it out.”

“You have anything that could help?” Sam sends a nod towards Tony.

“I got a few things but it’d take a while to put it together.” 

“Didn’t you learn quantum physics in a night?” Wanda’s picking apart a cookie into pieces, chewing slowly.

“Thermodynamic astrophysics,” he corrects her. “Quantum science took lesser.”

Bucky scoffs slightly at the brag, eyes still trained on the table in front of him. Maybe if he made no noise, they would forget he’s here.

“Yeah, so this should be a piece’a cake.”  

“If your cake was somehow made out of a highly specified tracker that somehow doesn’t violate the data privacy of the entire world while analysing millions of terabytes worth of information, then yeah. A piece of it.”

“What he means to say-” Bruce interjects, “-is that we’re trying. It’s just taking longer than usual.”

“Well, the parade’s this Sunday. Think it’ll be done by then?”

“Hey FRIDAY,” Tony crosses his arm over his chest. “How many hours have I slept this week?”

“Three and a half, boss.”

“How much more will I be getting?”

“From previous experience, about six.”

“Yeah, we can get it done.” Tony looks back at Steve. 

“Ask someone on the tech team to help you out.” Everyone was well aware of Tony’s bad coping mechanisms and how futile it was to get him to change his mind about it, but they still tried.

“They’re too busy.” Bruce pressed his lips into a straight line. 

Bucky tunes out at this point. If he could help, he would have reluctantly chimed in by now, but he couldn’t. 

“So what now?” Sam rips Clint’s doughnut into two, keeping one half for himself while leaving the other to the latter who still hadn’t lifted his head up from the table.

“I actually asked Fury if I could call in an external to come help,” Tony pipes up. 

“And he agreed?” Nat raised an eyebrow.

“After he realised I wasn’t going to leave his office until he said yes.” He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing out a message before hitting send. “It didn’t take too long.”

“Do we know this person?” Steve asks a little suspiciously.

“Well-” Bruce sneaks a glance at the broody man on the chair, “-kinda.”

Everyone can tell Bucky isn’t paying attention by the way he’s glaring holes into the plant. He doesn’t mean to, it just so happens that it looks like he wants to kill it. Nobody tends to bother him during meetings, knowing well and fully that he did not care.

“You’re about to.” Tony jumps up, making his way to the door to pull it open.

Bucky perks up. An open door means they can leave, right? He can go watch The Bachelor? He’s not sure what everyone was talking about, but if the meeting was over he could go ask Wanda who was always kind enough to help.

“Our newest recruit,” the billionaire announces, quickly adding the next part, “on a trial basis.” 

Bucky looks at the door.

His jaw drops open.

“No,” he says loudly, posture immediately stiff as a plank. 

“Hello to you too, Barnes.” You roll your eyes before sending a small wave to everyone else. “Hey everyone.”

“What are you doing here?” He looks like he’s seething. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “You told me 3 o’clock, you player.”

“What is she doing here?” He whips to Steve for an answer.

“Hey Y/N,” Sam greets with a smile on his face before Steve can reply.

“Sam Wilson, good to see you again.” You grin.

“Right back at ya, sugar.” 

Wanda looks amused, Clint finally lifts his head off the table at the mention of your name while Nat takes her feet off his armrest, and Steve’s body relaxes when he realises what’s going on. 

“Okay.” Tony claps his hand. Bucky shoots daggers at him. “As you all know, this is Y/N. She’s going to working with us this week.”

“This is ridi- how did you even find out about her?”

“Aside from the fact that she’s all you talk about?” Clint snorts. Bucky shifts his glare to him. It was bullshit and an exaggeration and Clint was going to get a shoe up his ass very soon.

Your grin only grows bigger.

“We saw one of the repulsors she made some time ago,” Bruce answers his question like the sane person that he is. “Tony’s had her in mind for a while.”

“Repulsors? How on ear-” Bucky connects two and two together before turning to Sam. “You. You got her this job.”

“Sam’s my best wingman.” You send him a small heart made from your hands. Whether the pun was intentional or not, no one would know.

“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with this idea.” Sam raised his hands to brush off the blame.

“You’re a villain,” he points out loudly.

“I’m a saint.” You raise your hand to your heart in mock offence. “I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever.”

“Listen, Robocop,” Tony interrupts your conversation, bringing the attention back to him, “I cleared it with Fury. He’s the boss here.”

“Fury doesn’t know-”

“What don’t I know?” The atmosphere of the room changes the minute he saunters in. 

With an eyepatch on his face, gaze sharp and a long black coat, Nick Fury puts Bucky’s dark outfits to shame. Not like he was competing. 

Bucky doesn’t continue his sentence. Nick’s imposing presence loomed at the doorway, putting a stop to the ridiculous arguments that were beginning to boil. Instead, he looks at you, only to find your attention trained on the man of the hour.

“Nicholas,” you half cheer from where you had shifted to in the middle of all the commotion. 

Nicholas?

Nicholas?

No one had ever called him Nicholas. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick addresses in return. “Been a while.”

“You haven’t come to the lair in months, Nick.” You pout at him. “I even sent you an invite.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. Since when are you on such good terms with Fury? Since when was anyone on good terms with Fury?

“It must have gotten lost in the mail,” he fires back, “Or maybe it’s because I just happen to be the busiest man in the damn country. Take your pick.”

You roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath, but the good natured smile on your face shows that you didn’t take any of his passive- or straight up- aggressiveness to heart. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting your little tea time.” He looks around the rest of the room with an edge in his voice. “Don’t you all have work to do?”

“We do,” Tony interrupts, holding up his hand before pointing to Bruce and you. “Everyone else just sorta sits around and looks pretty.”

“I’m gonna go talk to the organisers, see what spots are most vulnerable.” Steve stands up. “You coming?”

“Yep,” Sam responds, flicking Clint’s shoulder to drag him along. “Come on, man. When was the last time you took a shower?”

“I’ll go see what the kids are up to in training. They’re probably flying off the handle right now.” Natasha brushes off crumbs from her lap. “Barnes, you in?”

Bucky silently shakes his head, eyes focused on you as you introduce yourself to every Avenger who walks out of the room, sharing a small fist bump with Sam.

“I’ll do it,” Wanda volunteers instead, finally leaving behind only the Science Bros, you and Bucky in the room with Fury. 

“I’ll give you a tour of the lab.” Tony beckons and you nod, following him. “New eyepatch, Fury? Prada, I assume?”

“Stark,” Nick says curtly. 

Bucky stares after you, arms still folded across his chest.

“Any problem, Sergeant?” 

Other than the fact that his arch nemesis was now working with his friends, no, not really. But that did seem like a pretty big one.

“No,” Bucky mumbles instead, getting up from his place finally.

Apparently, no one else was worried about the possibly lethal combination of you and Stark, even with Banner there to dilute it. 

Fine.

Guess he just has to observe you the whole week.

Well, half a week. It was Wednesday. 

He observes inconspicuously over the rim of his coffee cup. He has a newspaper spread in front of him at Bruce’s table. 

It’s not suspicious. He’s been there multiple times to sit in silence with the scientist who occasionally tinkers with something while engaging Bucky in tidbits of conversation. He finds it calming, refreshing even

Today he has an agenda. Everyone knows about it too. 

“You know he’s staring at you, right?” Bruce looks up briefly from the giant blueprint laid in front of the group. 

Tony had been dragged away to get a proper meal into him after he stayed up for 36 hours straight with caffeine keeping his system running. 

“He has a tendency to do that.” You’re looking over the plan the three of you had come up with the day before. There were certain changes to be made in terms of efficiency. “Turns out if you annoy him, he stares harder.”

“We’ve heard about the inventions. Inators, he calls them?”

“Yeah,” you point out something on the sheet, drawing a circle around it to come back to later, “only good things I hope?”

“He doesn’t really talk much.” Bruce writes down a small comment against your arrow mark. “But if he hated them, he’d have a lot to say. So I’d take it as a compliment.”

“Would it annoy him if I did?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, then. Pass me the ruler?” You draw a line connecting two pieces. 

Bucky’s ability to lip read is excellent but he refuses to do it, for privacy purposes. He knew that SHIELD had pulled some strings and had another teacher substituting for your classes the whole week since your other option was to come only after school hours. Anything else about this plan was murky.

“You gonna sit there all day?” Tony looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight.

“I’ve done it before.” He continues to look over the newspaper at you with your finger extended at something on the blueprint as you explained something to Bruce.

“You look like- how do I say this nicely.” He wasn’t going to. “A fuckin’ stalker.”

“I’m supposed to stop her from doing anything evil.”

“Sure.” Tony snorts. “That’s what this is. Should I get you a fedora and sunglasses while we’re at it?”

Of course Stark wouldn’t care; he brought you into this project. It was pretty much impossible to get him to agree with Bucky.

Bucky just narrows his eyes and continues his observation. 

The menu of the cafeteria keeps changing. They like to keep things interesting.

Every time they do, Bucky spends too long staring at the menu, trying to figure out what exactly is familiar enough to order. Vietnamese week had him eating pho the entire duration it stayed.

“You plannin’ on eating anytime this century, sarge?” He recognises your voice immediately. 

He knows what time your break is and he knows that you generally eat lunch in the cafeteria with the science team. Generally, the three of you pour over solutions and debate points all through the meal, and he spends the time getting acquainted with his new, lowkey Instagram account. 

He blocks the Bucky Barnes hashtag the minute he gets an account again. God save his eyes from people asking him to break their back like a glow-stick. However, one afternoon of accidentally watching three cat videos has led to his entire explore page being taken over by them and he’s been trying for three days to get it to stop. 

“Just trying to-” he tilts his head. “-understand what I’m reading.”

“Not a big fan of Greek food?” You join him in looking at the menu. 

“Never really had the chance to try.” Tony and Bruce don’t seem to be in the room, probably pushing aside their meal to work on it as they’ve often done.

“Ah.” You already had your order in mind but you wait there. 

Two minutes later he’s still staring at the menu. He can feel your presence next to him, unmoving. It unnerves him.

“Why are you still standing here?” He cranes his neck to look at you.

“I’m just seeing how long it takes for you to order.” You shrug. “So far it’s been five minutes and forty six seconds. Forty eight now.”

“Go away.” The concept of someone standing beside him, waiting for him to do something reminded him far too much of him trying to bag his stuff at the grocery counter rapidly while other customers waited to pay. 

“Six minutes and thirty seconds. This is just sad now.”

“Your face is sad.” It was pathetic that he had now resorted to this.

It earned a laugh from you. 

As entertaining as it was to be able to get on his nerves by just standing silently next to him, you finally ask, “Do you want a recommendation?” 

He eyes you wearily. “You gonna give me food poisoning?” 

“Not today, no.” You shake your head slightly. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He stares a little longer. You remain unshaken in your offer.

“Fine.” He sighs, stepping aside. 

You tell him that since it’s his first time, you’d get him something basic. He thought it made sense. 

He argued with you when you ended up paying for the both of you, only shutting up when you told him he’s holding up the line and that he could pay you back later. It doesn’t stop his incessant mumble complaining. 

He ends up with gyros at his table and you sitting opposite him with your meal. He asks where the Science Bros are. You tell him it’s Science Hoes now, as christened by Tony, and that they’re in the lab.

“So?” You look at him eagerly.

“What?”

“How is it?” you urge, nodding at him.

He takes a cautious bite, really taking his time with it to annoy your impatient ass. 

“Well?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“It’s-” he pauses, looking down at his food. “-good.”

“Aha.” You lean back victoriously. “Knew it.”

He likes it. He also knows that this is probably going to be the only thing he orders for the next week unless you had planned otherwise. 

“You’re not eating?” He gestures to your untouched tray.

“Taking it up to the lab. Got a few things to work on and we’re already behind.” You gather up your stuff and get up.

“Uh-” he pauses from practically inhaling the entire thing. He was already halfway done with it. “-thanks.”

“No problem. You wink at him. “Try figuring out what’s wrong with it.” 

You turn on your heel to leave, taking your order with you. He can see your shoulders bobbing with silent laughter. 

He stares down at his plate, swallowing slowly. 

He pokes at it with a fork, lifting up the leftovers to check if there’s anything underneath. Nothing. 

He checks to see if his limbs are still intact or his face was a different colour. Nope.

His stomach twists in worry about what’s going to happen. He still has a bit left but he pushes the tray aside.

The rest of the day he spends supervising you has you occasionally catching his eye, only to laugh. It only freaks him out more.

It takes eight hours of waiting and self induced tests later to realise there was nothing wrong with it. You were just playing with him.

He’s surprised to find you in the rec room when he strolls in with Sam, given that you haven’t taken a break all day.

You don’t share the same surprise... almost like you expected him.

“How long have you been waiting for me?” he immediately asks.

"I wasn’t here for you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Heard that Wilson was makin’ an appearance here soon so I stopped by to get a good look at him."

"Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Sam laughs, inserting a dollar into the machine and punching in the code for what he wanted.

"Gladly. Strike a pose, would you?" You grin, raising your phone.

“Maybe when I’m not covered in sweat.” Sam counter offers and you accept with a thumbs up.

“You going to the parade, Sam?” You toy with the can in your hands.

“I’ll be working security, so probably.”

“Sarge?” You take a swig of your drink.

“Huh?” He snaps back into the conversation, putting a stop to the mental list of reasons he was making of why you could be here at the same time as him. He knew your schedule, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to figure out his.

“You coming to the parade on Sunday?” you ask again.

“I guess.”

You wince.

“What?” he asks instantly, curiosity making him a lot sloppier than usual.

“It’s just- you wear so much black.” You gesture to his current getup to prove your point. ”I feel like all the bright colours would vaporise you if you looked at them.”

He doesn’t look amused.

“You know, like Prince Philip.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” He gives you a sarcastic smile.

“You comin’ Buck?” Sam laughs, unwrapping the bar he bought from the machine.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Bucky says offhandedly, still glaring at you innocently drinking your soda.

Sam chews absentmindedly on his protein bar as he walks out, amused at the situation Bucky pulled himself into.

“What’d you do?” Bucky asks, studying your body language.

“I bought a soda.” You lift the can to prove your point. “And now I’m drinking it.”

“Why are you waiting for me?”

“I thought I’d return the favour,” you point out. “I’m supervising you.”

“Don’t.” He walks to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet for some loose change. There was a Snickers bar he had been craving since morning that he bought every alternate day. Small joys.

“Why? I have the time.” You take a sip, setting it down with a clang.

“You’re only here for this week.” Bucky counted the coins he had. He’d use a dollar but he was trying to get rid of the jingling in his pocket that made him sound like a fucking clown when he walked.

“Actually,” you begin innocuously, “Tony offered me a full-time position.”

Bucky’s movements stop, hunched over the money in his palm.

“What?”

“Yeah.” You nod seriously. “A full nine-to-five as a researcher here.”

“And you’re taking it.” He shakes himself out of the minor shock to assess the damage.

“I don’t know. I got a lot of things to consider.” The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as you stand up. “But maybe you should get used to seeing me a lot more around here.”

He punches in the code for his Snickers. The row whirs forward slowly.

“See you at the lab.” He hears you discard the empty can in the trash before exiting.

He waits patiently for his bar to drop while his mind internally screams about the consequences of having you work here. You wouldn’t be evil anymore. Unless you were here to steal secrets from the Tower. On the pro side, his weekend would be free again. On the con side, his weekend would be free again.

His bar stops right at the edge of the row. He waits for it to fall over. It doesn’t.

He shakes the machine, suppressing the primal urge to beat the shit out of it when the damn bar refuses to fall.

He punches in a few random buttons hoping that at least it would give his money back.

The little monitor instead flashes a new message across the screen.

‘Have a good day, sarge <3’

Motherfucker.

Captain America looks less daunting up close, you realise. But he is still a very large man with very large shoulders. You know at least four people who would like to scale him like a tree, not that you’d ever tell him.

“Hey, Y/N.” He sends you a small smile when you walk into the room for a mid-week update. A clipboard in your hand, report attached and a few stationery items in case some points needed to be noted done, you look professional and ready.

“Afternoon, Captain.” Tony saves a seat for you and Bruce beside him since you’re on the same project. You almost miss the fact that Bucky isn’t in the room.

He walks in a few minutes late; tall, dark and brooding, immediately bringing the excitement in the room down by 40% by just existing. 

Bucky surveys the room before catching your eye. He picks up his chair with ease and drags it over to where you are, sitting right beside you, ignoring the small cry of protest from an agent whose view he now obstructed. Everyone else just silently shifted over.

“Clingy much?” you whisper at him, eyes still trained on Steve who had waited till everyone was seated to continue.

“I’m supposed t’be keeping an eye on you,” he rebuffs in a hush.

“Well, you’re late. What if I went rogue, huh?”

“Therapy ran overtime,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” You blink. “How was it?”

“Same old.”

“You good?”

He refrains from answering when Steve starts addressing the room but yes, he was fine. He sends you a nod to confirm. 

“This is just a usual checking in. We’ve received all your reports, but just to keep everyone on the same page-”

Bucky logs out mentally. He knows what his job is, he’ll probably lead a division of the security team or join the mission to neutralise the threat in case they find it first. Either way, he’ll figure it out without having to listen to an intern nervously stammer their way through their team’s report. 

On the other hand, you’re not listening either. You were until you saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over while glowering at the window, assuming that he had stopped paying attention when his gaze doesn’t shift.

You should be listening. You’re new here and you should know what’s going on because any bits of detail are crucial to the working of your system. 

Instead, you rip out a sticky note and discreetly place it on the back of Bucky’s metal arm. He doesn’t notice.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. More post-its from your pile of stationery make their way onto the vibranium, shades of pink, purple, green and yellow decorating his arm like a bulletin board. 

You’re about to contemplate sticking one on his shoulder blade when he whips around to look at you. You freeze, hand in the air with a sticky note. He looks down at his arm, a scoff escaping him in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” He twists his arm to check the extent of how far you’ve gone. “What are you, six?”

“How’d it take you so long to notice?” You watch as he tugs them off one by one, counting to see how many you had managed to get on there.

“It’s impossible not to zone out in these shitty meetings,” he mumbles, pulling off the last one, crumpling all of them into a ball to throw at you. You skilfully avoid them. 

“Don’t you feel pressure or heat or anything here?” You poke at his metal arm.

“No.” He clenches and releases the fist. “It can block bullets though.”

You snort. “Bet that’s a popular line in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it helps that I can’t feel anything. Sometimes,” he adds the last part as an afterthought. 

“Like when you’re blocking bullets.”

“Especially then.” He nods. 

“Would you ever want to?” you ask casually. “Like if you got the choice, would you prefer having feeling in that arm?”

“I don’t know.” He’s thought about it, but it doesn’t seem feasible in his line of work. He’d like it, though, to feel sand slipping through his fingers and the comforter under his palm. “Maybe when I’m retired.”

“Aren’t you well past that age?”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “And pay attention. You’re next.”

“So you are listening.” True to his word, Steve asks about what’s going on with your team. “Traitor.” 

Tony shoots off about how you only had to test it out on a small batch first to see if you could acquire the targeted data without compromising anything else. You chime in about a few specifics, and Bruce more or less just confirms what you both are saying, only stopping to let them know that you’d be finished in a day or two.

Steve nods, moving on to the next committee.

“Did I get a good grade?” you whisper when you lean back again.

“B minus at best.” 

“Fuck you, dude. I was great,” you protested. “It’s definitely worth a gold sticker.”

Someone shushes you sharply. You apologise quietly, whacking Bucky’s metal arm when you see a dumb smirk on his face. 

He narrows his eyes at you. 

You try sticking another post-it on him.

You’re only here for a week. That’s what he’s been told. Over six times, actually, after which he’s been told to go away the next time he asked.

No one’s brought up the job offer so he asks Tony if it was true and all he gets is a dismissive ‘yeah, whatever’. Besides, you haven’t told him if you accepted or denied it yet so isn’t sure if this entire thing is set in stone, per se.

So then why do you have a giant box of your belongings that you’re lugging around the lab, looking to set down?

And why does Tony allow you a table right in the centre of the lab for everyone to see as soon as they walk in?

There are a gazillion trinkets, picture frames and obnoxiously bright stationery that stands out against the dull minimalism of the lab.

“Every single one of these is a fire hazard,” he reports, standing over your desk.

You give him a side glance before reaching over to the side of your desk, pulling up a fire extinguisher and setting it on the table in front of him. “I came prepared, bitch boy.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. He chooses to look at what exactly you’ve brought with you because it’s a lot.

There are small cards with ‘thank you!’ sprawled on them in uneven lettering, bits and pieces of paper with small cartoons on them, little clay models and other miniature trophies with ‘you’re the best!’ under it.

“Your students gave you these?” He can’t remember the last time he gave his teacher anything other than a headache.

“Sometimes they learn or communicate better when they have something to keep their hands busy.” There’s a certain fondness in your voice that he isn’t used to hearing. “I end up with a lot of doodles and craft.”

“’s nice of them.” He can tell that this means a lot to you. He hasn’t seen it before.

He thinks the little decorations are adorable and maybe he’d keep another fire extinguisher on hand, just in case. 

Until you start pulling out a set of framed photos and his smile drops.

Several collages of Bucky in flower crowns, him with terribly edited backgrounds of beaches and mountains, a photo of him laughing with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ next to it in an italicised font.

“What the fuck,” he states, grabbing one of them.

You stifle a laugh, pulling out several more to place along your table.

“Where did you fucking get these?” He starts pulling them off the table one by one.

“I don’t think you know how much the internet is obsessed with you.” You set an especially large one of him in a Hello Kitty bowtie right in the centre. He doesn’t miss the star shaped frame you chose for this.

“What is wrong with you?” He swipes that up immediately, looking for a place to discard, possibly burn these pictures. “Why do you even have these?”

“It’s imperative that people know we’re friends.” You bite your lip, bringing out the last thing to annoy him.

“What is that?” A teddy bear with a blue jacket and a grey felt arm stared into his soul.

“A Bucky bear.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “Limited edition.”

He snatches it along with the fifteen other picture frames, thinly veiled distress and mostly disgust on his face.

“I hate you.”

“But I love you.” You lift the small heart shaped locket you hung on one of the pictures of your class.

You use both your hands to click it open for him, watching his face morph into one of disbelief.

Bucky my beloved, it read on the right with a small picture of him on the left looking intensely disgruntled. He doesn’t bother asking where you found that specific picture of him outside a Burger King at 3am.

He doesn’t even make an effort to take it away this time. He knows that you’ll simply bring up more and more until you drove him crazy.

“You still have to see the Avengers calendar.” You reach for the inside. “I changed all the pictures to you, it looks great-”

He turns around and leaves before you get a chance to flip open the pages.

He wanders around, looking for the best disposal area he can find. He knows there’s a giant fireplace in the common room in the Tower, and for that, he’d have to go up a couple of floors.

He steps into the elevator, chin pressing down on the several picture frames in his hands to prevent them from falling over.

No one sees him carrying a couple of fan edited pictures and merchandise of him. Which was good.

Unfortunately, the doors ding open on the next floor and his best friend steps on with possibly the worst timing ever.

“Buck?” Steve sounds confused. He should be, considering the sight.

Bucky shimmies slightly to get a better grip on his belongings. “Steven.”

Steve glances at what he’s holding.

“Is this,” Steve pauses, trying to frame his words correctly to sound as supportive as possible, “a therapy thing?”

“No.”

Steve waits for a further explanation.

“It’s Y/N’s,” he elucidates. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

“Why are there so many pictures of you?” He looks at the content in his hands a little closer. “And a bear.”

“She’s evil. And I hate her.”

“Alright.” It doesn’t answer his question but his friend looks irked enough.

The elevator dings to the common room floor.

Bucky turns on his heel to head toward the place to set all the pictures on fire. He saves the picture frames to give back to you though, he’s sure those cost money. But he makes sure every last square inch of the picture with several hearts around his portrait burns to ash.

Bucky knows that by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, the three of you would have been working for thirty hours straight, scrambling to get the last minute details done.

You’re still at it but he can tell through the adrenaline of the upcoming deadline that you’re exhausted. 

Now he’s grouchy but he’s not an asshole. He’s already done two coffee runs for the team and brought you food when you didn’t show up for lunch. He mumbles something and dismisses it when you call out a ‘thank you’ his way. He considers it a debt repaid for the gyros.

He’s still keeping an eye on you but along with an emergency box of doughnuts for any sugar rushes that may be needed and bottles of water that he occasionally leaves at the corner of the table for you three to subconsciously keep yourself hydrated. 

“Are you sure we checked it?”

“Yes.” Bruce nods.

“Double checked it?”

“Yes.”

“Triple checked it.”

“Yes.” 

You look satisfied enough to move on to the next item. “Pass me the welding torch for a second.”

Bucky has a book in front of him that he hasn’t moved beyond the second page of. He’s more interested in seeing who collapses from burnout first. He has the infirmary on speed dial. 

After another hour or so Tony holds up a silver tablet, roughly the same size as a smartphone, examining it from all sides.

“That’s it,” he states. “The final product.”

You exhale lightly.

“We should name it.” You have your hands on your hips, looking down at it in wonder. Maybe the zero hours of sleep was finally kicking in because you couldn’t believe you were finally done. 

“You got any suggestions?” Tony asks. 

To be frank, no, you didn’t.

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll do that later.” Tony sets it down, not sounding too disappointed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell the team to get down here, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Bucky jumps off his chair to join you in the lab, leaving the book behind. 

It only takes a few moments for the others to join. Fury and Steve walk in together, already engaged in conversation.

“Greetings.” You clap your hands together. “We did it. We think.”

“We think?” Nick raises an eyebrow.

“We know,” Bruce clarifies quickly, stepping in. “We’re positive it works. We tested it out.”

Tony pulls up the holograph of F.R.I.D.AY’s system, sliding the tablet to the middle of the table.

“Is it secured under FRIDAY’s core?”

“Locked and loaded.” Tony hits the table lightly to signify that it was safe.

“I think we’re ready,” Bruce confirms.

“We better be, or else half the country is suddenly going to lose their internet connection,” you say under your breath.

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together.

“Nothing,” you beamed, “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., run sequence, global parameter.”

“Running sequence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. parrots. 

There was no going back now. 

From what Bucky can see, Tony looks fairly confident but you have your bottom lip caged between your teeth, chewing on it nervously. 

There are several hundreds of photographs popping up and disappearing within a minute. Everything looks like it’s going according to plan.

The giant holograph of the AI dims. Your face drops when F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems to sputter to a halt. 

No one breathes.

In the midst of the tension, Clint mutters if they should play some background music. It’s followed by a swift ‘ow’ when Natasha flicks him in the shoulder.

You could hear a pin drop.

It suddenly picks back up again, running faster than the last time and the sigh everyone collectively heaves is almost comical.

It runs for a few seconds more before a list of names suddenly pop up accompanied by a series of photographs and geo locations.

“Sequence complete. Six names detected, zero encroachment on public or private databases,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. broadcasted. “Location determined to be Holland. Exact coordinates are computed into the quinjet.”

You let out a small cheer, looping your arm around Bruce, squeezing him in a half hug. He has a smile on his face, dropping his head as he laughs slightly. 

“How dangerous are they?” Tony, however, continues to ask.

“A few prior convictions and a series of similar threats. Danger level determined to be at approximately five out of ten.” 

“That’s not bad,” Steve commented. “Looks like we don’t need the full team there.”

“Romanoff, Barton, Wilson, Rogers can go ahead and take care of that,” Nick finally spoke up. “Everyone else is working security tomorrow, just in case anyone else decides that terrorism is on their fuckin’ to-do list for the day.”

“Buck, assemble a team and go over strategy for tomorrow,” Steve adds on. “Everyone else go suit up, wheels up in thirty minutes.” 

“Fuckin’ Holland,” Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Of all the places.” 

“What do you have against Holland?” Nat asks as they leave together.

“Just don’t like ‘em.” Their voices grow faint the further they get.

“Hey.” A small greeting from behind you has you turning around.

Wanda stands in front of you and you have to ignore the fact that the most powerful being on Earth is talking to you. 

“Hey,” you say back.

“I just wanted to say congratulations. You did a great job.” Bits and pieces of her accent poked out. She didn’t seem like she was putting in the effort to cover it up as opposed to the press interviews you had heard a few years ago. 

“Thank you.” You smile. “T’was a team effort.”

“Well, we owe you one anyway,” Steve joins the conversation, leaving aside Tony who was still talking to Bruce.

“I wish I was humble enough to turn it down but I’m not.” You laugh. “It’s nice to have an arsenal of superheroes at my disposal.”

Steve looks like he’s going to respond but his attention is drawn towards F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement that the quinjet was ready to go. He shoots you an apologetic look but you sign for him to go on, you’d meet with him later.

You watch as he claps Tony on the back, telling him to go get some sleep and something with more nutritional value than a pizza pocket in him, nodding at Bruce before taking leave. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick stands beside you, looking ahead at the conversations being had as Steve tugs Clint along with him.

“Nicky,” you tease.

“I know at least seven underground prisons I can put you in if anyone hears you calling me that,” he says stoically. 

“We all know you won’t get rid of me.” You shake your head. “Who’s gonna send you a Christmas card then, huh?”

He simply shakes his head, jutting his hand out and offering a handshake. “Not sure anyone here could handle another day of a highly caffeinated, sleep-deprived Stark.”

“Just say ‘thanks’, Nick, geez.” You roll your eyes. 

Bucky watches the entire interaction unfurl; only the body language, not employing the lip-reading ability. 

“You’re welcome.” You let go of his hand, a devilish look on your face. “You know what I want in return.”

Nick gives you a long, hard stare that could probably melt through Steve’s shield before turning around to leave. 

But Bucky doesn’t miss the subtle high-five he gives you while walking out, unbeknownst to anyone else, bringing the biggest grin to your face.

He makes it a point to ask you what the fuck kind of leverage you have over the man for him to play favourites with you. 

You finally collapse at your desk, letting out a loud exhale. You clench your eyes shut, your body finally melting into your chair. You look exhausted.

He’s not sure how to help. You don’t seem like you have the energy to tell him.

Bucky leaves a doughnut and water bottle on the table in front of you before shuffling out of the room quietly. 

He’s certain that he’s spent far too long in Bruce’s lab this week. He liked the man as much as the next guy, but he probably wouldn’t come down there for the foreseeable future. 

You’re at your assigned desk, reading light illuminating the space. Thankfully you’ve cleared up most of your stuff from the table, leaving no more liabilities to fall over in case he walked into the desk. 

“So you’re done for the week.” His voice surprises you. You were scrolling through your phone, slightly hunched over.

“It appears so.” You put your phone down, swivelling the chair to look at him. 

“How’d it go?” He leans against your table, making sure he isn’t using his full weight.

“Well, I slept for fifteen hours straight, so...” you leave him to connect the dots. He’s done the same several times.

“You’re probably gonna need more,” he says, mostly from his own experience, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Actually-” you reach beside your table and lug your gigantic box of belongings onto the table with a loud thud, “-you won’t.”

He looks at the box that was nearly overflowing with its contents, the majority of the space being taken up by empty picture frames. “I thought you said Tony offered you a job.” 

“He did,” you confirm. “I didn’t accept.”

“Why?” He watches you shift through a few things, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall over.

“This whole thing- it’s cool and all, but it’s not what I want to do.” You shrug. “I like teaching. I miss my class.”

He gaze lands on one of the thank you notes sticking out from the corner of the box. “Ah.”

“Back to school from tomorrow.”

“And evil on the weekends?” he prods, dropping a pen into the heap of stationery. 

“Obviously.” You give him a lopsided smile. “Where else am I gonna use all this brilliance?”

You point to your head. He lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh.

“Speaking of-” You look like you just remembered something.  

You rummage through your backpack and pull out a small container, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” He turns it over, looking for any hidden clues. “Are you proposing again, because I’ve said no-”

“I’m not proposing,” you interrupt, “yet.”

He gives you a deadpan look.

“Open it,” you urge, and he complies.

Two small squares sit side-by-side. They’re slick black, barely bigger than the face of a dice.

“You put one of them here-” You tap on his bicep “-and the other here.” You tap his shoulder, a few inches below his clavicle.

“What does it do?” He thinks it’s like Nat’s little taser things, a nifty little tool that he could use on missions.

“It, uh-” you hesitate “-it allows you to feel sensation in your metal arm. Heat, pressure, texture.”

His breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, it just does.

“You said that sometimes you’re glad you couldn’t because of the bullets and stuff. They’re detachable, so just take them off when you go on missions and wherever it is you Spandex ambassadors go.” You scoff slightly. 

He can’t remember the last time he felt something soft with that arm or used it for something that wasn’t directly related to his job.  

“I’m not messing with what the Wakandans gave you. It’s the most advanced piece of tech out there.” You shrug. “But if you ever want to feel it when someone attaches sticky notes to your arm, this could work. Just thought it’d be nice to have an option.”

He can’t decipher what he’s feeling right now. He looks up at you, only to catch you eyeing him cautiously, assessing his reaction. When you notice he’s looking at you, a nervous smile makes its way onto your face. 

His stomach does a flip. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

“Don’t mention it.” You sound a little relieved, picking up the box that he’s pretty sure weighed a ton what with all his memorabilia in it. “See you next week.”

He doesn’t know how to explain what it means to him. 

Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing later?”

“Nothing.” You pause. “Why?”

“Are you gonna watch the parade?” 

“Yeah, probably.” You shift your weight to your other leg to compensate for the box.

“Want some company?”

“Aren’t you heading a security division?” You have to consciously hide the bewilderment from your voice. 

“Yeah. The place I’m stationed just so happens to have a good look into the street,” he explains, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. “Can’t really promise that I’ll be paying attention to it or that I’d even be there the whole time but for the most part...” he trails off. 

“Uh-” You force yourself to shove aside your surprise at his determination, “yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”

He nods. “Okay. See you there.” 

“See you,” you murmur as you walk to the elevator. 

He opens the tiny container to look at the small chips. They’re still there, silently like they don’t change his world just by existing. 

Gosh.

Next part

[sugamamacustard]

Let Me Help You (Part. 2)

Pairing:  Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Issei Matsukawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Takahiro Hanamaki x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, Hurt/comfort.

Request: Oh boy, here we go!

Anon: hi!! can we get more of the omega depression drabbles/one shots? i would really like to see mattsun’s version and other characters you can think of!! the more angsty the better ;)p.s. luv your writing <3 also stay healthy, safe, and drink water !!

Anon:  Can you make part 2 of let me help you please. if not it’s fine with Mattsun and Makki

Anon: Could you do part 2 for the let me help you with makki and mattsun please if not that’s fine this is also my first time requesting something so i’m kinda nervous💕 

(Don’t be nervous at all, you did amazing!)

Anon:  Mamas, can I order a continuation of let me help you?? Please?? I need some fluff after that hurt 💕💕💕🥺🥺🥺

(Mamas anon! :DDD)

Anon: omg i love the omega depression!! please continue with the rest of the third years or a pt 2 with oikawa’s !! i love your writing!!

@bohica160​: Could we possibly get a part 2 with Oikawa please?  👉 👈  🥺

And I think that was all? You guys just really wanted this, and who am I to deny you? 

Summary: Because of unseen circumstances, you drop, and you drop hard. How does your alpha help you/redeem himself? 

Author’s Note:  I kinda wanna post some self-indulgent OC stuff on here, but idk. It’s kinda crack-y and stupid. Also, we love to see a healthy relationship. Like Hanamaki’s and Matsukawa’s are so soft. Also, also, please note Hanamaki’s is heavily based off of my own experience with depression and the events after with my best friend, whom I will love and cherish forever. 

Requests: Open!

Part 1:  Here!

➵ You drop was actually out of anyone’s control.

➵ Omega drops rely heavily on hormone balances, much like depression, and it seemed like this month just wasn’t your month. 

➵It was hard to exactly pin point when it got bad, or when you started experiencing symptoms, as they were slow and not necessarily noticeable.

➵A missed lunch here, a small scent shift there. 

➵Small things that neither you nor Takahiro would notice. 

➵It was much like a rollercoaster, inching higher and higher until the drop would come. 

➵ Honestly, both of you thought you were fine, and since you were around both of your mutual friends (The Seijoh Team)  enough no one could really point it out. 

➵ It truly was a bad situation all around.

➵ You only really began noticing after a few days of ignoring lunch in a row. 

➵ It hit you when you were sitting in the library, stomach clutching with hunger as you scanned through a textbook. 

➵ You attempted to get up and go find Takahiro to go get something to eat, but you just...didn’t. 

➵ You couldn’t find the energy to stand, much less walk, and just stayed seated

➵ You just couldn’t move. 

➵Like a million bags of sand were tied to your hips weighing you to the chair. 

➵ You swallowed tightly, rolling your shoulders before stuffing your text book into your bag, trying to breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. 

➵Deep breaths. Thats what you needed to focus on right now.

➵ But then you couldn’t. You were hyperventilating, and white-knuckling the edge of the table as your vision turned blurry and watery. 

➵ The cramping from your hunger combined with the sudden rush of emotions made you want to vomit.

➵ Before you could, you slung your backpack over your shoulder, bolting out of the library.

___

Laughter and chuckles were heavy as Takahiro gave a hearty chuckle at something Matsukawa said, shaking his head before taking a swig from his energy drink. His eyes darted to his phone every now and again, just checking to make sure you didn’t need him. 

You would always come first to him. 

When his screen lit up with your beaming face shining up at him, he quickly swiped to accept holding it to his ear, watching while the team laughed at Oikawa, who was shielding himself from Iwaizumi.

“Hiro?” 

“Shooting star?” His brows furrowed as he slowly began cleaning his stuff, straightening himself up so he could leave as soon as possible if you needed him; which, guessing by your home, you did. 

“I-I think something’s wrong.” You paused, making his heart drop. “I don’t know, but I think I need to go to the doctor, but, I know this is a lot so feel free to say no, can you-”

He didn’t let you finish. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come pick you up and drive you. Do you need me to call and book an appointment?” 

A few of his packmates turned with worried eyes, trying to send a non-verbal question. Well, for most of them. Oikawa was trying to whisper-yell his questions, Iwaizumi trying to shut him up. 

“I’m at the front of the school. I’ll just meet you at your car.” 

“I’ll be right there, shooting star. Stay safe, okay? I love you, and I’ll see you soon Omega.” Takahiro waited for your reciprocation and own farewell before hanging up, quickly standing and swinging his leg over the bench and grabbing his bag. 

“Makki-kun, is Y/N-chan okay?!” Oikawa screeched after him, actively crawling onto Iwaizumi, who looked like he was ready to commit first-degree murder. 

Makki threw up a thumbs up behind him, waiting till he was out of the cafeteria before sprinting towards the parking lot. 

He hoped, with every inch of his body, he didn’t lie to his captain. 

___

“Take your pills.” 

“Alpha, they taste horrid-”

“I don’t care, they make you feel better.” 

Takahiro watched you carefully, handing you two of the teal and white pills. The alpha was strict on very few things with you, but your health he did not fuck with. 

The appointment with your doctor went fine, with minimal blood work done, and you were sent off with a prescription for hormone balancing pills. You and Takahiro (Who was absolutely divine during the entire thing) were explained how the pills worked and why you dropped, all of which was simple enough to understand. Since then, Takahiro was insistent on you taking the pills in front of him. 

“Open.” Takahiro demanded, watching as you stuck your tongue out. He moved your head by your chin, checking the very corners of your mouth. “Lift your tongue.” 

You did so, showing nothing. He hummed in approval, letting go of your chin before pausing, pulling you close so you could hear his heartbeat. 

“Thank you for caring, Hiro.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling into your alpha’s neck, taking in his scent. 

“Thank you for telling me about this and letting me help you.”  He responded, pressing a sweet peck to your temple and reminding himself you were still here in his arms. And would be with him for a long, long time. 

➵ Your drop was a mix between miscommunication and little whispers in your ear.

➵ Honestly, there was a reason you were in a pack with minimal other omegas. 

➵ They grew catty and mean and vindictive if there was something they didn’t like.

➵It was one of their many flaws and strengths. 

➵You yourself had caught yourself bad-mouthing another omega to your alpha every now and again. 

➵ Though you hated doing it, at some point it was just second nature.

➵ You and Issei had good communication though, and very rarely did something as silly as jealousy come between you two.  

➵ whenever something was bothering you or your alpha you would talk it out.

➵ You both trusted each other completely. 

➵ If something felt off about another person, you were quick to mention it to the other. 

➵ However, sometimes things got complicated.

➵ Insecurities seeped through your walls that Issei kept strong for you.

➵And sometimes, small little whispers became hurdles and boulders pounding against your defenses and breaking them down. 

➵Leaving you open and stumbling. 

➵ And sometimes, because of this you forgot that you had back-up, an artillery that would fight for you at the drop of a hat. 

➵ And those moments, that ones were you were caught with your tail between your legs and ass in the air waiting to be fucked over, were when you truly crumbled. 

➵And though it broke you down and made you hurt, your artillery had your back.

___

“Issei, I was-”

You bit your tongue as you were roughly shoved to the side by Akina Harakashi, the omega throwing herself at your alpha. His face remained unmoved and his arms by his side. 

She was his science partner for the semester, and though Issei reassured you she was nothing more, you couldn’t help but internally whine at how she acted with him. It was no secret that she liked him, but since you and Issei kept you relationship on the down low, rumors were bound to pop up. 

And though you didn’t let it show, they poked and prodded at you. Make your skin crawl as you ventured deep into your own mindset. Thoughts that would plague your every move and drive your omega into overdrive as they tried fixing whatever you picked on in your own reflection. 

You shivered as she looked up to Matsukawa, who was busy focusing on entering his locker combo. 

“Mattsunnnn~ I’ve missed you!” Her voice was literal nails on a chalkboard to you. 

“I saw you twenty minutes ago.” Matsukawa hissed as his locker popped open. “I haven’t seen you recently though, pretty thing.” 

Your omega purred as Issei grabbed his textbook, closing his locker and pushing past Akina. He smirked down at you, intertwining your pinkies in the most discreet way possible before walking you to class. 

You glossed over his question when he asked you how lunch went. 

___

���Do you think Harakashi and Matsukawa are dating?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me, have you seen how she hangs off of him?”

“I think they’d make such a cute couple!” 

“If Matsukawa doesn’t ask her out soon, he’ll loose her.” 

You kept your head down and scent blocking collar tight as you slowly crept through the hallway, exit in front of you. Honestly, you didn’t have the energy to continue on with the day, so you were leaving it the midst of lunch, where you could loose yourself in the crowd and disappear. 

You wanted nothing more than your alpha, but his last message had your eyes stinging. 

‘Harakashi asked me to meet her at lunch, so I won’t be able to see you. Eat something. At this point, I’ll even take junk food. Just get some food. I’ll see you after school.’

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did, but it stung you deeply. This was it. This was the downfall of your and your alpha’s relationship. You were blown off for Akina Harakashi at long last. 

The rational part of you wanted to defend Matsukawa, but every time you tried, the insecurities that had been bubbling within you spit towards the rational part of you and your omega, throwing any redeeming thought into the corner to rot. 

A part of you was angry. Angry with Matsukawa for letting this happen. Angry with yourself for not speaking up. Angry with your fucking stomach which groaned for food of any sort. Livid with Akina for trying to steal Mattsun. 

Angry at the world. 

You couldn’t really remember the last time you ate anything besides...air. The days all blurred together in one miserable run. 

“What did I say?” 

You glanced over at Matsukawa, heart leaping at the jump he gave you appearing out of nowhere, leaning on the wall beside you.  You huffed, turning away from him and leaving him to follow after you. He did so, jogging a bit to catch up. 

“You said I’d see you after school. This is not after school.” You snapped, growling at the alpha. He raised a brow, either in disbelief at your attitude or amusement.

“Omega. I said eat. This doesn’t look like eating.”  His longer legs gave him the chance to cut in front of you, face now set in anger. 

“You also said you had to meet with Harakashi. So scurry along to your new play thing.” You shoved past Matsukawa, trying to ignore the stinging in your eyes. 

“What are you talking about?!” Issei smartened up, grabbing your wrist when you tried leaving him behind yet again, now visibly irritated. Truth be told, he was meeting up with Harakashi to put an end to her insistent clinginess. To put her in her place, beneath you. 

She tried confessing to him before he even looked up, coming into the room with her arms outstretched already, yelling about ‘I knew you felt the same’ or something . He dodged her, sneering down at her and snapping at her to leave him alone or he’d go through the semester alone (Which he already talked to the teacher about, but she didn’t need to know about that). 

Hanamaki had been his eyes when he wasn’t there, reporting back to Matsukawa with updates on you. His latest? You had been missing from lunch for the better part of the week, and last he saw you were ditching the last half of this day. 

Which Matsukawa wasn’t letting happen, because if you went home right now, you wouldn’t come back. And he couldn’t live with himself if he let you drop. 

“I was meeting with Harakashi to tell her to piss off. You’re my omega. Why in the hell would I even want someone like her when I already have you? You are mine, and I fought for you. I don’t need a corner worker.” 

Any fight you had in you disappeared when you saw the small tears glazing your alphas eyes, making your own break free as you ran into his chest. His arms locked around you, holding as if you would slip away if his grip loosened. 

Which you just might’ve. Good thing he wasn’t planning on letting you slip. 

“Wanna go get food?”

“...Yea. Can we get nuggets?”

“Anything for my pretty omega.”

➵ Okay this one is super short, and I’m sorry! I just wanted to get this out for you guys!

➵ And I think you guys wanted a follow up of sorts for Oikawa. 

➵So here it is!

➵ Things didn’t improve over night. 

➵It took awhile, but it was worth it. 

➵ In time you and Oikawa reached a nice equilibrium.

➵ He wore his bond mark loud and proud and you made sure to tell him when you were uncomfortable with his fangirls and how close they were getting.

➵ In turn, you learned to slowly let go of any reservations you had on his loyalty. 

➵He wouldn’t have marked you if he didn’t want to devote his entire being to you. 

➵ This showed up when a girl, who you despised (With no hard feelings, since she hated you just as much) tried confessing to Oikawa. 

➵Toru, baby boy, shut her down the minute she opened her mouth. 

➵ He didn’t even look her way, instead searching for you and quickly brightening up when he saw you.

➵ If he had a tail it would’ve been wagging. 

➵ Things improved and everyone was all the better for it. 

➵ And Toru made sure to, not only apologize to Iwaizumi, but gift him a voucher for a free movie for him and his omega (who was having a hard time as well).

➵Things were looking up and you both were sure to  keep it that way!

___

“Kentaro, please don’t hurt Kindaichi!” Your pleas fell on deaf ears as you tried to stop the alphas from snapping on each other. 

It wasn’t that Kyoutani didn’t like or respect you, because he did-- you were like a second mom, but Kindaichi just got on every single one of his nerves. And then tried dragging you into it! Like, the audacity of this bitch. 

“Kyoutani!” Your alpha’s bark had both the blond and raven pausing, a careful glance making both back down as Oikawa heading towards you guys (Throwing a pile of confession letters into the trash on his way by without even looking; some point they would get the hint if he left the blatantly in the open). 

The blond growled lowly, sending you a quick glance before returning to practice. Oikawa let him, turning his glare to the instigator of the whole thing. The onion-headed pup hid behind your smaller frame, making your laugh. 

It was almost like that moment when dad’s pulled out their ‘behave or else’ voice. And in a way it was. 

“One of these days my pretty dove won’t be there to save you, Kindaichi.” 

“I know.” 

You and Oikawa sent a look to each before you laughed, moving so Oikawa and Kindaichi could have a ‘man to man’ talk. 

The pack was dysfunctional, and you almost let it go. 

You were thankful you didn’t and still had this family to come back home too.  All thanks to your alpha. 

“STOP MAKING GOO-GOO EYES AT YOUR OMEGA SHITTY-KAWA.”

“I can’t help it, Iwa- IWA STOP HITTING ME- Y/N HELP-” 

You shook your head laughing, jogging to save said alpha. 

He was childish and arrogant, and sometimes got too far up his own ass, but he was yours. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[mediawhorefics]

I posted 1,696 times in 2022

178 posts created (10%)

1,518 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@starsweredible

@greenfeelings

@tsnbrainrot

@phd-mama

@gffa

I tagged 1,502 of my posts in 2022

Only 11% of my posts had no tags

#about me - 172 posts

#star wars - 166 posts

#films - 113 posts

#pixie - 107 posts

#my favourite boy - 103 posts

#art - 83 posts

#fanart - 79 posts

#tsn - 71 posts

#andrew garfield - 66 posts

#hayden christensen - 54 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and of course louis is looking louis is looking at the illuminated sky ribbons of colours shifting swirling over the stars like beams of lig

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

idk if this is a weird question but do they always communicate with each other through post cards? or do they send texts to each other too?

it's not a weird question! but ofc they text once they start a proper relationship! they text and they call and they facetime and zoom etc. but harry always sends postcards back home anyways because it's their thing.

34 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

#4

Do you have any hot tales about tsn?

tsn hot takes ??? gosh, idk if they're hot takes but i have opinions?

i'm sorry to rpf on main but 'andrew garfield was in love with jesse eisenberg' is a hilll i'm going to die on.

similarly, andrew garfield played eduado as in love with mark and watching the movie through that lens enriches the whole experience. fight me.

tsn deserved to win best picture in 2011. out of all the nominees that year, it's the one that has only gained relevance as time passes and had something to say about our culture, both back then and right now. i think it's almost more relevant now than back then. its social commentary on the way we live our lives on the internet is pretty spot on. i mean 'the internet is written in ink'. give me one line better from another movie that year. we lived on farms then we lived in cities and now we're gonna live on the internet?? damn.

this isnt an opinion, more like an observation? back in 2010, people complained about the harsh depiction of zuck but he's worked so hard to prove the movie not only right but also now it almost reads as mild compared to who that guy actually is. it's fascinating in terms of tsn's cultural legacy. where's that one quote from that article about tsn turning 10 yo? the movie couldn't predict what facebook would turn into (in terms of misinformation and manipulation of information) but it understood that the desire to tear down the establishment is not the same as the wish to build something better in its place? anyways, that.

it has one of the greatest soundtracks ever. i don't think any movie has topped it since. that opening sequence with hand covers bruise? holy shit.

i always wonder if it does enough to condemn the elitist misogynistic culture of those rich harvard guys/those rich tech guys. like... i always joke that it's one of my 'ooops the filmmakers forgot women were people' favourite films (i have a few of those) but at the same time, it feels very pointed and purposeful in its depiction. and we know that fincher has a history of exploring toxic masculinity as a theme without explicitly condemning it and trusting his audience to get the message. which, honey, men are not smart. i mean, we get the iconic erica moment telling us from the start 'it'll be because you're an asshole' and then the movie proceeds to prove that to us. but is that enough? is the movie sexist or is the character? or both? i don't know i kinda go back and forth on this. again not a take, just thoughts.

i read this one letterboxd review like a year ago that said something along the line of: best movie of all time they have him tell us ' i don't want friends' in the first eight minutes and it blew my fucking mind. they literally tell us in the first eight minutes, aaron sorkin i just want to talk.

i love him and would kill for him, but eduardo telling mark 'i was your only friend you had one friend' was not only untrue but kinda manipulative. not that mark didn't deserve it.

high key this is one of the most quotable movies of all time. did you know i sent forty-seven texts???

there are whole worlds of unsaid things in the 'you have no idea what that's going to mean to my father' 'sure i do' i am OBSESSED with their relationship.

eduardo's bitchy 'is he?' when sean says he's wired in before the laptop smash is just as, if not more, iconic than the rest of the speech.

andrew was robbed of both a nomination and an oscar for this performance. i stand by it.

2011 golden globes jesse eisenberg dragging andrew gafield out of his chair top awards moment of all time. you had to be there.

people will bitch about tsn rpf and people writing fic about mark zuckerberg but where would we (tumblr) be as a society without jesse and andrew's 'you didn't know me at 13' 'i really wish i had'. where would your pining web-weaving fandom posts be without mr garfield's embarrassingly public crush on his facebook movie co star? check and mate.

genuinely think it would have solved a lot of their problems if mark and eduardo had fucked. or it would have created other different problems. either way, a win.

we all know it should have ended with mark sending eduardo a friend request. literally the only flaw in this film.

i honestly think the tsn press tour is on like... lotr bts footage level in terms of ~as enjoyable if not more than the original film. and i don't say this lightly. it's one of the highest praise i've got.

i'm a basic bitch but every single scene of mark defending eduardo post-betrayal is like.... [SCREAM]

it IS the greatest divorce movie of our time. marriage story fucking wishes mate.

tsn is 100% a girl movie. like red flag for men green flag for women (& gnc people) kind of stuff.

it's on par with all of shakespeare's best tragedies. for me.

lmao when i read this ask i thought damn i won't have much to say and now i have to stop myself because my food is ready and i'm starting. anyways this is barely scratching the surface. i might come back for a part two?

35 notes - Posted December 5, 2022

#3

do you think tts h&l are the kind of couple to lay in bed before falling asleep and talk about small things but also end up discussing big existential questions? if yes what do they talk about?

ohh 100%!!! i mean, i feel like so much of their friendship/early relationship was based around big existential questions of who am i/whats my purpose/what do i want/where do i belong/etc etc and i really don't see them stopping talking about that stuff after they get together 'officially'??

tbh i think they're a pretty chatty couple in general anyways so i can easily see that being part of their bedtime routine. i think often one of them prob. has something on their mind and babbles while the others hums sleepily ?? like i can totally see harry rambling about the theme of his next album while louis is all 'sounds great baby' while yawning, not because he's not interested but because harry has been at it for an hour and louis has to be up at 5am lol. i also really like the idea of them reading before bed and gossiping about what's happening in their respective books? that's when louis isn't the one doing the reading obvs. but yeah i just have a mental image of them reading side by side with clifford sleeping at their feet and one of them GASPS because of something and the other closes their book and goes 'tell me everything' because even when they're reading individually, they're actually reading together. i also think once harry starts living in the lighthouse basically fully time, he likes to be Involved with the b&b so he likes to go over the next day's schedule before bed and what they gotta do and what the menu is and who is checking in, etc etc. just to feel organized and while louis loves to be organized himself he'll always tease him like 'can we deal with tomorrow tomorrow please ???' and 'no shop talk in bed!!!' which always make harry laugh because he 100% lets harry talk about his song writing process in bed. he just doesn't want to think about HIS work in bed lol.

so yeah, i think they talk about anything and everything.

36 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

#2

i had a bit of a meltdown about this last night and honestly i’m not sure i know how to articulate how grateful i am in the light of day either but … i’ll try.

tts is such an incredibly personal story for me. writing it and sharing it with people was kind of like cracking myself open and saying: here, come have a look. it was incredibly vulnerable and scary. i don’t think there are words for me to express what it’s meant to me, to have it be received with so much warmth and enthusiasm. every single one of those hits, every single comment, every message i’ve gotten on here about it… they all feel like a tight tight hug. you know the kind where you hide your face in someone’s neck and they rub your back a little and neither one of you want to let go? it’s a little bit like that and it’s incredible. while it does feel a bit weird to make posts sharing those kind of milestones (like who does she think she is bragging about her ao3 stats like this UGH), it would feel even weirder not to acknowledge it because i’m so so moved and overwhelmed and grateful. so if you’re one of those little hits (or more than one lmao), all i can say is thank you. you’ve really taught me that what i write can have profound meaning and that i’m capable of more than i thought i could with my words. and that’s fucking priceless ❤️

76 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

hii can u link me to where u listen to the songs? my link won't work anymore:(

here

136 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

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