#like dude i dont even know you. you live on an another continent. go find some local grown tits?!

[toonfinatic]

Me today!!!!!

[cherryrogers]

➸ call me baby {3/3}

BROOKLYN

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: Swearing, smoking.

word count: 8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: jfc,,, i can’t believe i’ve finally finished writing this lmao i’m sorry it took so long my dudes. thank you to everyone who has shown support for this fic, and i hope you all enjoy the final part !!💛

“I’m going to miss having you around, _____. It’s been nice having another girl here who isn’t afraid to put a shitty customer in their place.” Wanda smiled, handing you a white envelope with your final salary enclosed inside.

Folding the envelope and tucking it into your jean pocket, you chuckled heartily. “I think you and your pistol will do just fine without me. Thanks for having me here for the summer, Wan. I wouldn’t even be leaving if it wasn’t for this job.”

Her grin widened as she pulled you into a warm hug. “There’ll always be a job here for you — summer, winter, any time you need it.”

After you’d said one final thanks and goodbye to Wanda, you exited the bar doors for the last time and crossed the sidewalk to where Peggy was waiting in her car for you. In a matter of hours, you’d be spending the night in Brooklyn one last time, and your summer would be over.

Initially, you were expecting a couple of months solely spent with your best friend. Lounging on shimmering sandy beaches, drinking wine and laughing till dusk in your backyard, listening to her harp on about her dreamy new boyfriend while you rambled about all the places you’d visited. You couldn’t have imagined it to be more different than it was. Sure, you had done all of that with Peggy, but she wasn’t the only one that’d shaped your summer. Following the motorcycle ride at five in the morning with a certain biker, you’d only grown more attached to each other. He couldn’t ever keep his hands off you, and you couldn’t ever bring yourself to leave the clubhouse after a day spent with him. If the rest of the club ever caught on to yours and Bucky’s affair, then they never mentioned it. You were sure that was because of Peggy. She knew it was better to leave you be, considering Bucky was the first person you’d opened your heart to in a long time.

Some days were spent simply in his bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear under his silk sheets, constantly switching between telling one another about your lives, your childhoods, passions, fears, and stripping out of your little clothing and letting yourselves completely give into each other. Some days were spent wandering the streets of Brooklyn hand in hand, Bucky showing you all the alleys and parks he’d found Steve attempting to fight guys twice the size of him, you pointing out the diners and stores you used to drag Peggy to on the weekends in high school. Every day was spent getting to know one another though, and every day spent with Bucky was never a day wasted. The only down side to every moment your were with him was that they’d only add up to it hurting even more when you inevitably left, and that time was arriving very soon.

Peggy drove you home from the bar to collect your packed backpack and suitcase before bringing you down to the clubhouse for the rest of the night. She teased you about going soft since you’d gotten close to Bucky, wanting to spend your last night with your summer love as she called him. The girl received an unimpressed glare for the comment, but what she said wasn’t exactly untrue. If you’d told yourself a year ago that your summer in Brooklyn would find you all starry-eyed for a biker you’d only just met in June, you would’ve likely pushed aside any plan to return to the place at all. Peggy would forced your ass back to Brooklyn, of course; perhaps there would’ve always been something that led you back to your hometown, to him. Christ, you were getting soft.

There was a crease between your brows as you retrieved the envelope of cash from your pocket and gently ripped it open in your lap. It felt a little... thicker than it usually was — more than what you normally earned from a week’s worth of work. As your eyes met the wad of green bills inside, they widened in shock. Yep, definitely more than your usual salary. Way more to just be a mistake on Wanda’s part.

The large sum of cash even caught Peggy’s eye from her place in the driver’s seat. “Wanda must’ve really taken a liking to you. Perhaps doubling your salary is a plea to make you stay.”

A breathless laugh escaped your lips as you ran your thumb over the edges of the bills. “If it is, that girl knows exactly what she’s doing. Maybe travelling isn’t my true calling after all.”

While they was a playfulness to your tone, you couldn’t help but notice the brunette’s smile falter at your words. Peggy was like you in a way; she wasn’t soft, often being as upfront and stubborn as you were. However, she didn’t like opening up to people about herself all that much. Not that you were necessarily thriving in that department either, but when it came to Steve, she’d said it’d took her a while to even mention her brother’s passing to him. He hadn’t known she even had a brother before Peggy brought it up a long while after they’d began dating. Peggy possessed a lot of self confidence, and she had every right to do so. Being vulnerable and open just tended to put her at unease, and when you caught her acting a little off, it took some gentle coaxing to get her to open up.

“Are you okay?” You offered her a comforting smile, to which she didn’t quite return.

“Peachy,” She replied half-heartedly, hands tightening on the steering wheel. Glancing briefly at you, she spotted the crinkle in your brows and your pursed lips. Seeing as you never took your eyes off her, she sighed. “What is it?”

“Peggy, I don’t know how long it’s gonna be before I see you again. If something’s up, please tell me.”

Her tongue hesitantly ran across her bottom lip, fingers readjusting on the steering wheel. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just... I didn’t realise how much I’d missed having you here. I know it’s selfish, but I’d be lying if I said I was excited to see you off tomorrow.”

You shuffled in your seat, turning to face your friend more directly. “It’s not selfish, Pegs. Of course you don’t want me to go, I’m the shining light of your life—”

“_____...”

“Sorry, I know I’m annoying. Can’t help it,” You apologised, internally cursing yourself out. One serious conversation. You can have one serious conversation, come on. “I mean it, though; I don’t think it’s selfish. If you were jetting off to London tomorrow, I’d feel the same— oh, red light!”

The car came to an abrupt stop in front of the traffic lights, your seatbelt pressing tightly against you chest. Before you could reprimand your friend and tell her that putting you in hospital isn’t a viable way to stop you from leaving, she was turning to you with a surprised stare.

“You’re going to London? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I mean, I actually just made the decision five minutes ago, but yeah, I’m going to London.”

Peggy let out a disbelieving laugh. “You haven’t even booked your flight yet?”

“I didn’t even have the money to go an hour ago!” You exclaimed. “But with all this cash from Wanda, I think I’ll be able to make it there. I’ve been travelling the US for a year now, Pegs. I wanna go somewhere new. Somewhere fresh, the land of milky tea and buttery crumpets. I can go to the Queens house—”

“You have a lot of nerve saying all of this to someone who was born in England.” She glared softly, pressing her foot down on the gas when the green light appeared.

An amused smile crept onto your lips. “Hm, I will need someone to Facetime twenty four-seven to tell me all the places I need to visit, preferably English and born in London...”

“So you’ll talk to me solely because my nationality is of use to you?”

You rolled your eyes. “I might miss you a little bit too.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s hard being without you too, you know,” You spoke more seriously, catching Peggy slightly off guard. “Travelling is great and all, but some days I do wake up in my motel room and wish I was back home, spending the day with my best friend.”

While her eyes were still focused on the road, a warm smile was clearly pulling at the brunette’s lips. “Just... don’t stay away for too long this time, okay?”

“You’ll see me again before next summer, I promise.”

“Hm, I’m going to need that in writing.”

“I’ll even record a video for you; I’ll buy a tripod, get some good lighting, one of those fluffy microphones—”

Peggy cut you off with a hearty chuckle, dark, conditioned curls bouncing as she shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m actually going to miss your ability to make a joke out of everything.”

You scoffed, placing a hand on your chest in mock shock. “Christ, now that is something that needs to be in writing. I’m hiring us a lawyer, he can draw us both up contracts.”

“Dont forget to book your flight first.” Peggy chimed in.

“Right, I have a lot of things I need to do today. Bucky’s gonna have to give me a minute before he can have me to himself... and I’ll need to lend his computer.”

As your gaze averted to the passing by buildings out of the car window, Peggy grinned contentedly to herself. She could see exactly why you’d been the one Bucky had really fallen for, though she couldn’t help but wonder how he’d handle your departure to a whole other continent.

However, you’d promised you were coming back soon, and there wasn’t a doubt in Peggy’s mind that he’d be counting down the hours once you stepped onto your flight.

* * *

“London, huh?” Bucky’s voice caught your attention as he entered the office, a beer bottle in each hand.

As you confirmed the booking of your flight for the next morning, you swirled around in the cushioned desk chair, taking one of the bottles once the man had approached you. “Did Peggy spill the beans already?”

“Heard her talkin’ to Steve in the garage,” He pressed his own bottle to his lips, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t seem like five minutes since you first arrived, when you came into the backyard in those little black and white shorts.”

Standing up, you shot him an eye roll. “I’m sure that’s all you can remember from that day, perv.”

“What do you remember then?”

You hummed, leaning into Bucky as you let his arms envelop your waist. “I remember wondering why everyone was wearing leather jackets in eighty degree weather. Oh, and that I thought you were a dick.”

The biker didn’t seem offended in the slightest at your statement, only grinning and pulling you closer. “Hm, and what about the day at the carnival? Wasn’t that a good day?”

“No, I had to endure you flirting with those girls in front of us in the drop tower line. I was almost sick before we even got on the ride.”

“Oh, that?” He let out a laugh, cheeks faintly tinting pink. “I was only trying to make you a little jealous. Seems like it worked.”

You scoffed. “It did not work,” It definitely had worked.

“You liked when I held your hand on the ride though, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You know what? Fine. I did,” You admitted, eliciting a smug smile from Bucky. “But I’m only admitting that ‘cause I’m leaving tomorrow. Don’t think I’m going soft on you.”

He ran his tongue along his lower lip, leaning closer to speak against your lips. “Wouldn’t be stupid enough to dream of it.”

Smiling in satisfaction, you moved an inch closer and let his lips meet yours, a warm feeling emerging in your chest. The kiss remained gentle as your fingers pushed some of his hair away from his face, before you pulled back reluctantly to breathe. Blue eyes pierced into yours after fluttering open almost hazily.

“Would it be stupid to ask you to stay?” Bucky asked quietly, though he knew the answer already.

A weak nod and an empathetic smile; you pecked the corner of his lips before stepping back completely as if you suddenly felt you’d been standing too close. Bucky had never seen you holding your tongue, but that seemed to be what you were doing as you put some distance between the two of you.

There was an uncomfortable silence, the warmth from your body dissipated and replaced with an aching coldness. Perhaps telling yourself all summer that you could worry about yours and Bucky’s future at the end of August was a terribly bad idea, because now it was hitting you — maybe there’s wasn’t a future for the two of you at all.

“I’ll wait for you, you know.” The biker’s voice broke the quiet, the words slicing through you.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, Bucky. I don’t think I can ask you to do that.” You breathed, meeting his eyes hesitantly.

“You’re not asking me to, I want to,” He stated, worrying his teeth over his bottom lip. “Unless... that’s not what you really want?”

Truthfully, the idea of Bucky seeing anyone else once you’d left made your stomach turn. In an ideal world, you’d like it if he was just yours. Only yours, because you guaranteed that there wasn’t anybody else that could make you feel the way that he did. But you couldn’t force him to wait for a girl that strayed away from their hometown for longer than they stayed, no matter how much it’d end up hurting you.

“It wouldn’t be fair, Bucky, to either of us. We can’t really be together when I’m only gonna come back for the holidays—”

“Was this just a summer thing to you?” He questioned, a mix of regret and frustration flashing in his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have asked that, but some part of him was oddly curious to.

Your previously calm expression turned sour as you furrowed your brows and scoffed. “You’re—you’re kidding, right? Did you just— of course it wasn’t just a summer thing to me, you asshole.”

Admittedly, it hurt that he’d even had the nerve to think that. You’d asked him if you shouldn’t have started something together that inevitably was going to end and he said he didn’t regret it. While being together could technically only last for the summer months, it wasn’t just a fling. There were feelings there that you weren’t going to be able to shake off, memories that were going to be carved into your mind forever. Did he seriously think that it was all just temporary on your part?

“Then would staying really be so bad?” Bucky retorted. What he was saying was only making you angrier, but he couldn’t help but be honest. Perhaps it just hadn’t hit him that you were really leaving in less than twenty four hours until that very moment, and everything that left him mouth was coming from a deep place of, well, sadness.

You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re being selfish.”

“Aren’t I allowed to be? We’ve spent a whole summer together and this time tomorrow you’re gonna be thousands of miles away from here—”

“And you don’t think I’ll be hurt either?” You intervened, cocking a brow. “You think I’ll be skipping through the airport utterly thrilled to be leaving you?”

Bucky was silent, too silent for too long. You scoffed, ignoring the way he was biting down in his cheek and the faint glossiness of his eyes in your annoyance. “You knew I was gonna have to leave eventually, Bucky. If you knew weren’t going to be able to accept that... then you never should’ve asked me to stay that night.”

That night; no further explanation was needed to identify which of the many nights spent together you were talking about. It was that night when you fell inexplicably hard for Bucky, when you decided that you might never have the chance to fall in the way you’d fallen for him ever again and that you’d only regret not staying the night. Not letting him strip you of your clothes and shed his own, not letting him make love to you, not letting him wake up to you admiring his every feature. If he knew he wouldn’t be able to let you go so easily, then having you stay that night was purely unwise of him.

When Bucky didn’t you respond one again after a few moments, you sighed deeply, crossing your arms over your chest. Though your expression had softened, your tone was still rather cold. “It’s never been just a fling with you, and if after all the damn time we’ve been spending together you thought there was a chance I might’ve thought that, then maybe you don’t feel the way I thought you felt about me at all.”

The biker’s features fell as he watched you chew your bottom lip and stalk towards the door — doubting his feelings for you was the last thing he wanted you to do. He let his boot collide with the bottom of his desk in frustration as you shut the office door behind you.

He hadn’t meant to start a dispute. It was your last god damn night in Brooklyn, of course he didn’t want to spend it receiving the cold shoulder from you. You’d probably gone out and found the rest of the guys, perhaps even went to drag Peggy aside to tell her how much of a dick he’d just been, which he’d understand. He had a feeling you wouldn’t do that though; instead you’d go out and pretend everything was fine because you wouldn’t dare let anyone know that he’d managed to hurt your feelings — always so stubborn.

Relationships were not Bucky’s forte. It’s not like he’d ever been looking for one; he was still young, he had still wanted to have fun for a little while before finally settling down like his mother had been bugging him to since he’d moved out. While he wasn’t the type to sleep with a girl and never call them again, he wasn’t exactly the type to, well... sleep with a girl and do anything else with them. He hated the talking stages of a relationship, despised them with all his being. Everyone he knew insisted that he had to get through them to actually have a deeper relationship with someone, but he really just couldn’t will himself to do it. So when there didn’t seem to be a weird talking stage with you, he was pretty happy about it.

It wasn’t like he was forcing himself to try and develop a connection with you, he’d hardly been interested in dating anyone when you’d first arrived. But then it all happened so naturally and now look at the two of you — well, you were mad at him and he was standing in the office alone like an idiot.

He knew better than to follow you outside and try to play friendly with you in front of everyone else. Giving you and himself a bit of time to cool off and think, Bucky took a shower upstairs in his bathroom. The longer the hot water pelted his skin, the more he felt like an asshole for what he’d said to you. He couldn’t just ask you to stay for him, that was wrong for a start. That was definitely selfish. Accusing you of thinking it was just a fling too? Christ, what was he thinking? He didn’t actually think that you thought of him as a fling, he just stupidly asked that in the heat of the moment when he was frustrated that you one hundred percent didn’t want to stay.

Maybe he ought to get out of the shower before he steamed up the whole clubhouse and make things right.

As Bucky neared the bottom of the staircase after putting on some clothes and towel-drying his hair, he bumped into Steve, who seemed to be heading towards the living room.

“Hey, Buck. We’re starting a movie soon. _____’s just finishin’ her cigarette out back; you two joining us?”

Bucky plastered on a smile, shaking his head. Perhaps he sounded selfish, but watching a movie with everyone wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to spend his last night with you. “I don’t think so, man. Another night.”

“Suit yourself.” The blond patted his friend’s shoulder before allowing him to scoot past him and head outside.

The sky was a deep blue, the sparse, grey clouds almost bleeding into the dark hue as the stars began to peek through the dusky blanket. A single garden lamp lit up the area, just about showing your figure sitting on the picnic bench that’d never been replaced since they’d moved into the clubhouse. Between your parted lips rested the remains of a cigarette, smoke twirling through the slight breeze that’d picked up once the sun went down.

You didn’t flinch as Bucky slid onto the bench next to you, and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to when the two of you had met. At that time, he was sat in your spot exhaling clouds of smoke, not knowing who you were when you first walked outside. Fast forward to now and you were exactly where he was all those weeks ago, except now he wasn’t sure what he was going to do without you.

“You mind if I take a drag of that?” He spoke up suddenly, suppressing a smile at the way you paused in your actions.

While you didn’t offer him the stick between your fingers, your loosened grip on it silently gave Bucky the permission to pluck it out of your hand into his own, which he did. After taking a long drag of the cigarette, he stubbed it out on the ashtray to his right before turning his attention to you.

“I know we aren’t a summer fling to you. I- I know how you feel about me, because I feel the same way.”

Bucky felt himself relax a little as you faced him, no longer staring off into the night. A slight frown pulled at your lips; he didn’t like the sight. “If I was going to stay for anything, or anyone, it’d be you, you know.”

Not sure what to say, the biker only gave you a nod of acknowledgment, taken aback by the statement. He wasn’t sure whether it was a compliment or something he shouldn’t be happy with.

“There’s a difference between me wanting to stay and wanting to be with you,” You bit down on your bottom lip. “I don’t wanna stay, but if you asked me... if you asked me to stay again to be with you, I probably wouldn’t get on my flight tomorrow.”

Breath hitching, Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You’d stay if I asked you to again?”

The look in your eyes was enough of an answer. If he asked you to stay, you’d say yes. Yes to waking up beside him during the colder fall mornings. Yes to motorcycle rides to anywhere and everywhere. Yes to never having to worry about how much time you have left together, because you’d stayed; you weren’t leaving Brooklyn anymore.

Saying yes to that however, would mean saying goodbye London, to travelling. Exploring different cultures, trying new food, experiencing a part of the world you never thought you could reach as a child. No more reading in motel rooms until midnight. No more tours around cities with a camera wrapped around your neck. No more living the life you’d been dreaming of since you’d barely started middle school — you weren’t ready to let go of that just yet, and Bucky didn’t have to read your mind to know that.

“I’m not gonna ask you to stay again,” He declared, prompting you to raise a brow. “I’m not gonna be a jackass and make you stay if that’s not what you wanna do.”

To his joy, your frown slowly curled into a soft smile. “I know your heart’s in the right place, Buck. That you weren’t trying to start an argument. And— and I can’t stop you from waiting for me if that’s what you wanna do. I’ll be back at some point, but I just don’t want you to put your life on hold for me, you know?”

“I wouldn’t be puttin’ it on hold. I wasn’t planning on finding someone I— I liked so much ever, really. I don’t know if it’ll happen again,”

Your heart — it was going to explode. Who knew you’d ever meet someone that had the power to make you feel so... disgustingly lovesick.

“...unless you happen to take a liking to a London boy while you’re there...?”

You chuckled, a warm sound amid the cool night. “London, Paris, Berlin... none of those boys will ever come close to the one I have in Brooklyn.”

A wide grin spread across the biker’s lips. “Who’s the sap now, huh?”

With a playful eye roll, you couldn’t help but place your hand on Bucky’s jaw, caressing it with your thumb as you leaned in and captured his lips.

He reacted immediately, putting a hand on your outer thigh to pull you closer to his side.

Wherever you were in the world, you’d always have Bucky in Brooklyn — he hoped that you didn’t doubt that.

* * *

Too many mornings spent lazing in Bucky’s bed meant that reality hadn’t yet set in after a few minutes of being awake. It was so natural at this point, to wake up and feel the warmth of him next to you, to have your legs tangled with his and to feel his nose grazing against the back of your neck.

Turning around in his arms, you leaned in and laid a kiss on his nose, smirking at the way he scrunched it in response before pinching at your bare hip. You smacked his hand away before settling your head back against the pillow, gazing at him through your lashes.

“Have I ever told you beautiful you are?” You asked without a second thought.

Heat evidently pooled in Bucky’s cheeks, and you rested a hand on the side of his face before he could roll himself over to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m serious.” You pressed.

“I know,” He grinned, voice raspy with sleep; he knew you never lied to him, you were as honest as they got. “And no, you haven’t told me.”

“Well, now I have. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up.”

“Never.”

Bucky sighed, tracing a hand down the curve of your back. He could keep you there forever, laying so close to him and calling him beautiful. If someone would’ve told him at the start of the summer that this was where he’d be by the end of it, he would’ve laughed in their face. “Where’d that come from, huh? You’re being scarily nice.”

“I’m trying to be sentimental, jerk.”

“Oh, right,” He smirked. “Just like last night when you told me to fuck—”

You interrupted him with a finger pressed to his lips. “I think that was pretty sentimental in its own way, actually.”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky kissed your fingertip gently. He had a feeling you were being a little softer than usual since the circumstances of the day were different. You weren’t sure when your next moment like this would be, if there ever would be one. Truthfully, there was an ache in his heart that was caused by that thought too. He sighed, almost sadly. “What time’s your flight?”

“Eleven.”

“Well, I think that leaves us enough time for me to show you how beautiful I think you are...” He trailed his hand lower down your spine and followed the curve of your ass.

You smirked, glancing over your shoulder to the small clock sat on the bedside table. It was nearly nine. There was just over an hour until you had to be at the airport...

“Thirty minutes, then we have to get up. Peggy will be up and banging on the door for us otherwise.”

“More than enough time, baby.”

That was a lie, however. It wasn’t nearly enough time, because once the two of you finally pried yourselves out from underneath the sheets, it hit you that that was the last time in a long time that you’d wake up in Bucky’s bed. The last time you’d be able to have him so close to you. It made you wonder what life would’ve been like if you met him before you first left to travel. If you’d fallen for him that hard so long ago, would you even have left Brooklyn in the first place?

You both took your time getting dressed, you tossing on a tank top and some leggings from your packed suitcase while Bucky put on his signature biker attire. He smugly asked if he could keep a pair of your underwear as a memoir; you told him to go fuck himself before planting a kiss on his lips. It was amazing how quickly he could switch between acting like a dick and being a sweetheart. You’d miss that, admittedly.

Everyone was eating breakfast in the kitchen when the two of you made it downstairs, the sound of your suitcase thumping against the steps signalling your presence. It was rare that you and Bucky ever saw the morning outside of his bedroom in the clubhouse, and that was proved by the raised brows and mock gasps you recieved when you entered into the room. You rested the suitcase against the doorframe as Bucky strided towards the counter, clearly eyeing the half-full pack of cigarettes placed on there.

As he reached for them, Steve looked up from his bacon and eggs, a frown pulling at his lips. “Hey, you can’t just smoke and call it breakfast.”

“I haven’t had breakfast for months,” The brunet snorted. “Don’t think it matters that much.”

“Have some coffee at least?” Steve pushed.

Cocking his brow, Bucky glanced over to you in hope of you having his back. It wasn’t like you’d had breakfast since before summer either, but you weren’t going to let the guy smoke for breakfast. Not when everyone else had a hot meal and the scent alone was making your mouth water.

“How about we get something at the airport?” You offered, strolling over to the seat next to Peggy and sitting down.

“You’re not going the airport so soon, are you?” She asked, sipping her coffee.

“Well, my flight leaves in two hours—”

The brunette almost choked on her coffee, prompting Steve to gently pat her back as she recovered. “Two hours? Oh my— why are you sitting down? We need to go—”

“Would you calm down?” You chuckled, placing a hand on Peggy’s forearm as she started to rise from her seat. She was right, though. You were cutting it very short by still being at the clubhouse when you wanted to grab some breakfast too. You moved your gaze to Bucky. “I mean, maybe we should go now...”

While he looked reluctant to nod, Bucky did so anyway, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle from his designated hook on the the wall next to the light switch.

“Hey genius, how am I gonna put my suitcase on your bike?” You furrowed your brows, grinning as the realisation hit him.

“Uh...”

“Bucky can take you on his bike,” The blond perked up, standing next to his girlfriend. “Peg and I can take the jeep with your suitcase.”

Looking to your best friend for permission, you smiled when she gave you a sure nod. She knew how much it would mean to you if your were able to ride with Bucky one more time. “Go on, we’ll be right behind you.”

After thanking her, you grabbed your suitcase and said your goodbyes to those sitting around the table. Though you didn’t speak to them as much as you’d wished you had, you’d still miss them. You all shared the same sense of humour, having a laugh with them was easy when you spent the day with the group, even when you were all simply lazing around the clubhouse. You gave each of them a quick hug, rolling your eyes when Clint told you to ‘have a right good time in London’ with a horrible English accent.

Bucky lead you out of the house, handing you a helmet and kissing the crown of your head quickly before climbing onto the bike. He didn’t say anything as you got on behind him, enveloping his waist and comfortably setting your chin on his shoulder. With every passing moment, you could tell that he wasn’t looking forward to finally waving you off at the airport. Usually when he was getting grumpy, you’d make a stupid comment about it and it seemed to cheer him up; it didn’t feel right to do so in this instance.

So as the the bike roared to life, you turned to look at the clubhouse. The place where you’d spent the majority of your summer, where you’d met everyone, where you’d met Bucky, where you’d kissed him for the first time, done other things for the first time. It’d become another home to you in a way, like a place you’d always be welcome back to. You hoped you’d always be welcome there anyway, even after being gone for months on end once you stepped onto your flight.

It’d barely taken thirty minutes to get to JFK Airport, Peggy’s jeep only a few cars behind you as you wound through the streets of New York. Bucky noticed when you didn’t start cussing out the bad drivers that were practically skimming the side of his bike like always, your head never leaving its place against his back. It was unlike you, but he didn’t mind. Perhaps like him you were just savouring the moment, the last ride you’d have for a while. Christ, Bucky had never felt so many emotions at once. He didn’t know whether to fall to his knees and beg you not to forget him or to kiss you passionately and tell you he’d be waiting for your return. To maintain his dignity, he decided against the former option.

Almost too fast for your liking, you arrived just outside of the entrance, climbing off the motorcycle reluctantly and spying the jeep just coming to park behind you. It wouldn’t be able to stay parked there for long, and you felt an ache in your chest as you saw Peggy stepping out of her car, Steve not far behind her pulling your suitcase along.

He handed it to you with a smile which you returned as you took it from him. Setting it beside you, you let out a sad chuckle upon realising how glazed over Peggy’s eyes were.

“I’m not about to cry, before you say anything,” She stated, plastering on a grin. “It’s just allergies.”

“Allergies my ass,” You smirked, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around her neck, grinning into her shoulder as she hugged you back tightly. You spoke again, this time more quietly next to her ear. “I love you, okay? And I won’t hesitate to fly back here and beat Steve’s ass if he does anything, I swear.”

Truthfully, you didn’t think Steve was capable of hurting a fly, never mind the smartest, kindest, most gorgeous woman you knew. However, Jay-Z was capable of cheating on Beyoncé — Beyoncé, so being a little sceptical of any man you met wasn’t unreasonable, in your opinion.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” She chuckled. “You just focus on looking after yourself, alright?”

“Right,” You responded. “And... you’ll keep an eye on Bucky for me, won’t you?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Bucky, or that you wanted a daily report of what he was up to while you were gone. You just wanted to know that he was going to be okay. Being apart would be hard on both of you, but you’d been doing the ‘being alone’ thing for over a year now, and you had a feeling that there was more to how he felt about you leaving than he was letting on. Even when he said he wasn’t going to ask you to stay again, you still felt like he wasn’t as okay with the situation as he was acting to be.

“Of course I will, Steve too,” The brunette assured you, giving you a final squeeze before beginning to pull back. “I love you too,” She sighed, returning to her place stood next to Steve. “Right, you know where you’re going after you arrive, yes? If not, you can call me and I’ll give you directions to the motel. If you’re hungry I know there’s a takeaway place just outside of the airport—”

“Pegs, I’ll be fine. I’m going to London, not Narnia.”

“Just— just be safe, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises.”

“_____—”

“I’m kidding! How about you learn to take a joke while I’m gone, huh?”

You smiled as Peggy rolled her eyes in amusement. Perhaps she wouldn’t be as amused if she knew about what happened with Brock Rumlow at the bar. You decided you’d tell her in London when you were in a whole other continent, otherwise she might not have let you leave in fear that you’d be getting into more trouble at English bars with assholes like Brock. Even if you did, Peggy knew you weren’t soft, you could handle yourself. She just worried that you were a little too unafraid of confrontation.

Turning to Bucky and picking your suitcase back up, you have him a slight tug on his hand. “We should probably go for breakfast now, I’ll be boarding soon.”

He nodded, offering to take your suitcase and rolling his eyes when you made a comment about him being ‘such a gentlemen’. You gave the blond a quick hug, warning him to take care of Peggy and grinning as he teased you about being more like her mother than her best friend, before saying a final goodbye to the two of them, giving your friend’s hand a final squeeze and turning away to head into the airport.

There was just over an hour until you had to be on the plane, so you and Bucky decided to head into cafe near the entrance and get a proper breakfast. Two steaming black coffees sat opposite each other on the small booth in the corner you were sat at, complimenting the stacks of pancakes dripping in syrup and sugar that you’d impulsively ordered and that Bucky had insisted on paying for, saying that you should save all your cash for exploring London.

“I’ll probably come back for Christmas.” You said in repsonse to him asking how long you’d be travelling for this time, stuffing a sliced bit of pancake into your mouth.

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Really? You’re not staying away until summer again?”

You cocked your brow, looking at him in the corner of your eye. “Why, do you want me to?”

“Course not,” He smirked, reaching out to swipe a drop of syrup from your lip with his thumb. “I hope that means you’re getting me a Christmas present then.”

A chuckle left your lips. “My return will be your Christmas present, how about that?”

The biker scoffed. “Okay... getting to kiss me when you get back will be your present then.”

“Eh... can’t you think of something better?”

He glared at you playfully, though you felt a little bad making the joke. You knew from the argument the night before that he wasn’t still one hundred percent okay with you leaving. Comfortingly, you placed a hand above his knee over his dark jeans.

“In all seriousness, though— I shouldn’t have told you not to wait for me to come back. If that’s what you really want, I can’t stop you from waiting for me. In fact, just seeing you again will be the best thing I’ll get on Christmas; I know it. Well, unless someone gets me some rollerblades. I always wanted them as a kid but my mom refused since I have issues with ‘being careful’—”

Bucky’s laugh cut you off, rolling his eyes at your attempt at covering up your sappy words with sarcasm. He could definitely understand why you never got rollerskates, however — you did have a tendency to be a little reckless. God knows what you were like as a kid.

“I’d have to agree with her on that one,” He smiled, sipping his coffee. “You have been punched in the face more times than the average person. You never told me about the other time you got punched, actually.”

A chuckle fell from your lips. “You remember me mentioning that?”

“Uh-huh.”

You sighed melodramatically. “I guess we have some time to kill — fine. So I was, surprise-surprise, in some random bar in Chicago...”

The hour you had left before your flight finished soon after you’d told Bucky enough stories from your travels to last him in your absence, and before you knew it, you’d reached the flight terminal.

There was an invisible force tugging at your heartstrings. While you were bubbling with excitement to get on your flight, to explore a whole new place outside of what you’ve always known, you hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to leave what you did know behind. The thought of depending on somebody else, allowing yourself to let their feelings come into play with your decisions, had practically disgusted you only a few months ago. But with Bucky, it only felt wrong to cast his feelings aside.

The biker noticed the change in your demeanour as you neared the terminal, and a smile crept onto his lips. “C’mon, _____ — don’t tell me you’re gonna pussy out on leaving now.”

“Shut up,” You scoffed, elbowing his ribs. “I’m just... thinking.”

“About what?”

It took you a moment to come up with an answer. “About how everything has changed, and how everything is going to keep changing.”

You turned to look at Bucky, whose brows were furrowed. The corners of your lips upturned. “Bucky, nothing in my life is consistent. I’ve always liked travelling because where I am changes all the time, and I never feel stuck anywhere; I always feel free. And with you, I don’t feel stuck either. I want you to be a constant in my life, no matter where I am in the world or whatever else changes in it. I always wanted to get out of Brooklyn ‘cause it never felt like where I was supposed to be forever, but now I know that you’re here... well, maybe Brooklyn is where I’m supposed to end up...”

“...and I swear to God if you call me a sap for that—”

To your delight, you’re not teased for the most heartfelt thing you’d ever said to him, or anyone for that matter, but cut off with a intense kiss. Savouring the feeling, you placed a hand on the back of Bucky’s neck, letting yourself melt into him for one last time that summer. You’d found that Bucky wasn’t necessarily vocal in expressing his feelings, but that didn’t matter. The way he kissed you said more than a thousand words ever could.

After reluctantly pulling away from the kiss, Bucky didn’t let you go just yet. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you to his chest, an affectionate action that he didn’t necessarily do so often. Nevertheless, you leaned into him and let your arms encircle his waist, your cheek resting comfortably against his shoulder. This wasn’t the last time you’d be so close to him, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. But you’d never felt so hesitant to leave someone behind since you’d left Peggy the first time you left New York. You found your way back to her, though, and you were sure you’d do the same with Bucky.

“On second thought, I’d be fine if you pussied out of leaving now...” He spoke into your ear, making you chuckle against his chest.

“I’m no wuss, Bucky Barnes,” You moved back from his embrace, patting his jacket. “You’ll see me again soon, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

The feminine voice over the intercom informing you that your direct flight to London was departing soon cut your final moments with Bucky short, enabling the both of you to let out a disheartened sigh.

You leaned forward once more, pressing a soft but fleeting kiss to his lips, before giving his hand a squeeze. “Stay out of trouble, will you? At least until I get back?”

“I think I should be the one tellin’ you that,” Bucky laughed, his eyes taking in the curve of your nose and your cheekbones, the colour of your eyes and the softness of your lips; the features he’d had the luxury of waking up to every day for the past two months. Not that he could ever forget how beautiful you are, but he’d be a fool not to take advantage of looking at you properly in the flesh for the last time for a while. “Running away from a fight isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

“Practise what you preach, pal — does that mean you won’t be socking Brock Rumlow in the face next time you run into him?”

“...touché.”

A grin graced your lips as you clasped your fingers around the handle of your suitcase. “Mhm, that’s what I thought. Now, I’ve gotta get going. There might be a fight waiting for me on the plane already — a forty-five year old lady named ‘Karen’ that’s upset she didn’t get the window seat, perhaps?”

“Well, I can’t keep you waiting, can I?” Bucky stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, watching as you began to walk in the opposite direction to him, the opposite direction to the summer you’d forever hold dear to your heart.

The smile on your face widened, your last words to him falling from your lips before you turned around and headed towards the next part of your journey, which would eventually, hopefully, lead you back to him in the end.

“I’ll see you when I’m back home.”

Home. Where you belonged. Where you’d circle back to when you’d travelled across the world and back. With him, in Brooklyn.

“See you when you’re back home, baby.”

There was a time when you didn’t believe in love. When you thought that those who did were only fooling themselves, and when you once told your best friend that you’d never fall in love. Maybe you’d proved yourself wrong with Bucky.

The reason you’d always told yourself that love wasn’t real was because you never knew what it was, how it felt. However, if it felt like gliding through a sunlit sky with all the time in the world to spare, with all the space around you to explore; if it felt like finding home in more than just four walls and a roof, but in two bright blue eyes and a soul just as carefree as yours (...and a worn out leather jacket...), then maybe you had fallen in love with Bucky.

Perhaps when you returned home, you’d let him know.

-

@dark-academics-and-florals @thefallenbibliophilequote @kimvmarvel @broco8 @domolovee @barnestruck @igotkatiepowers

[2idiots]

Just my drunk Saturday thoughts but the tumblr-verse needs more Ateez content. For some reason atiny on here only write really hard and really problematic 🙄 But also anything you write will be perfect 💗

Um drunk Saturday thoughts are fueling this (even though I'm sober by the time I posted). So I'll mostly write for Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho since they don't make me feel super old.

Also 🥺🥺🥺🥺 um my heart is melting. I have a serious case of imposter syndrome and that is so so nice of you to say about my writing 🥺🥺🥺🥺.

Yunho x solo traveler!reader

You're lost, completely and utterly lost

How you got on this corner is beyond you but now there was a pizzeria to your right and a convience store to your left and you have never seen either

A map in one hand and google maps in the other, you're really trying to figure this out without any tears

When did traveling become this confusing and when did google maps start messing up your path this much???

"Are you ok?"

The english was broken but the concern was present

The boy next to you was wearing a mask that covered the lower half of his face but you could see more than enough and he was cute, his brown puppy dog eyes warm and inviting

"Ummm yeah I'm good," it was you're attempt at being smooth but really you were stumbling over your words and regretting not listening more to your korean language podcasts

Then you're spewing your mistake a million miles a minute "actually no i have no idea where I'm going and my hostel is I dont know where and also this city is so big and there are so many people and not enough space. and I haven't slept in 3 days because the dude in my hostel is a snorer hard-core and also i thought it would be easier to travel alone but now I'm alone in a city that I can't even understand the alphabet for and..."

Poor boy looked so confused and that's understandable with your anxiety ridden speed speaking

But like do you want him to know what you said? No. Is that part of the reason you spoke so fast? Probably.

He doesn't seem scared of you, just really confused but he still grabs your map and asks "where?"

This time you just go with it? At this point you're never gonna find your way back on your own so if this is his way to get you to a secondary location... well you're gonna die anyway so 🤷‍♀️ well

Only he insists on walking you all the way to your hostel and by walking that means walking and taking the subway then letting you go at the correct stop

(Yes you're very far away)

And for some reason you say yes??? He's not as creepy as the guy drinking and peeing in the trash bin two streets over who offered to help

And you two talk? Though it is slow: you trying korean, him trying english but for some reason it's the best conversation you've ever had and it ends with you giving him your contact info

So you message him the next day and he takes you to all his favorite places around seoul

You're seeing and eating some of the best food and listening to him talk to the waiter and the attendants everywhere you went

You realize he's famous when you see a picture of him and the rest of the group on your second "see seoul trip" and his ears turn red and suddenly he's apologizing (but he's speaking so fast you can't figure out what for)

Otherwise the apology may be the one thing you 100% recognize from Korean Duolingo

Overall you're in Korea for month after that, just out of college and you choose to explore the world before being forced into the everyday grind... well you spend almost everyday with him even though sometimes it's at the most random of times

Like 2am when his practice is over but the chicken place is still open and he is asking you what you explored today and telling you about his dancing

Or 6am when he is waking up and taking you to his favorite breakfast place and helping map out your day

Or 30 mins at noon and he's staring at you shovel your food in instead of shoveling his own lunch in. You have to yell at him to hurry and eat so he can get back to practice

One time it's in the middle of the day at a quicm lunch and he asks you how your country twerks and you just straight up laugh at him (like maybe you can twerk or maybe you can't but you don't need him to know how to do it...)

Also your korean is getting way better and his english is significantly improving (so much so that his band members are actively noticing he is speaking better on vlives? and disappearing at every break???)

Three of them confront him about it and let's be real this boy can't lie so he spills every detail about you: from the way the light catches your eye when you're talking about your passions to the eager glint when you are trying your best to remember a word for your story

They tell him to be careful because you're not sticking around the city and they don't know how fans will react.

They don't want see his heart broken. But also it's nice to see him so happy

You didn't kiss until the last day you spent together, actually the last few minutes

He came to the airport (though you told him multiple times he didn't have to because of press and what not) but he moved his schedule (and everyone else's) to see you off

It was the worst goodbye you've ever experienced, like leaving college and your safe net was one thing, leaving your mom to flying half way across the world was another, but not knowing if you would see the guy you'd spent the last month with hit so deep you couldn't quite comprehend

At least you'd see your friends again and your parent, but him? He was famous and also from a different continent what are the chances it would ever be like this again? Probably zero.

So that kiss hurt so much but you meet like two dying men deprived of water and when you broke apart (his mask around his chin) he promised to come visit if you promised to come back

And of course you did, promise, though you didn't tell him spending another month abroad probably wasn't gonna work but maybe a few days at least

Then you're giving one last kiss and thinking of what it could be, living in your last moments before you hope on a plane home

Please send me au requests people! 💓

[uneryx]

Renee Gets Salty About Dark Magic

This post got long, and got away from me, so I’ll tl;dr it

1. dark magic is a metaphor for consumption and materialism and is ultimately bad because it harms others unnecessarily and is not a sustainable resource

2. the elves were dicks for banishing humans but (especially if humans sucked all the magic out of the land themselves) they were kind of justified, even if it was an extreme measure

3. Eating meat is not the same as dark magic if you’re looking at things from an animistic point of view, which the elves likely do

4. it’s okay to like problematic characters and you don’t have to portray Ezran as a monstrous enfant terrible to feel okay about thinking Viren is justified in what he does.  In fact, pretty please stop doing this, everyone in all fandoms. It’s fine if you don’t like the protags but that doesn’t mean you get to say Ezran or Rayla or whoever is EVIL. It’s called Ron the Death Eater and it’s a fandom trope that has pissed me off for going on fifteen years. Deliberately misreading the text isn’t cute. Stop doing it.

5. The show isn’t over, be patient, you’ll probably get to see some comeuppance for stuff anyway. And if you don’t, there’s always fanfiction. 

6. For the love of baby adoraburrs please tag posts that go in the vein of “the writing is bad because Viren is portrayed as a classic villain/elves good humans bad/the protags aren’t held accountalbe” with “TDP CRITICAL” I would greatly appreciate it because I’m getting super annoyed with posts that deliberately misrepresent canon to uphold a favored side and it’s affecting my enjoyment of the show. Now! Actual long and discourse-heavy post under the cut!

 Ugh I don’t want to start a big ol’ argument with people because I’m still on vacation and don’t want to spend the rest of today arguing about cartoons on the internet, but this has been on the kettle for a while and I feel QUITE STRONGLY about some of these things, so just... let me express my views here and don’t come for me because I’m about to talk about religion and sociology. 

Dark Magic is a metaphor for unchecked consumption and capitalism.  1. The theory i’m seeing floating around that got my dander up is that the elves and dragons drained the western half of the continent of magic to keep magic away from humans. I think that, based on what we’ve learned from canon, this is highly unlikely and would be weaker writing than what I think actually happened. Instead, Dark magic was going on for a good solid 800 years (Rise of Elarion is 2000 years before canon) before Sol Regem faced off with Viard (1200 years before canon). The division of Xadia was another 200 years after that. Humans had a solid honking millennium of unchecked dark magic. It is quite likely that the reason the west is entirely devoid of magic, and that humans were banished there, is because they sucked all the magic out of that half themselves. Poor innocent baby humans nothing. They got a taste of power and progress and, like real world humans, let that get WAY out of control.

2. “But Lujanne eats bugs, she’s a hypocrite for saying Claudia can’t squish bugs for pancakes” I want you to go down to your local new-age/witchy bookstore and find yourself an animist that eats meat. You are going to get glared at SO HARD if you whip out the “you think animals have souls but you eat meat!” chestnut. Because here’s the thing.

Eating meat/animal products is an act of life, necessary to sustain the life of someone else. We don’t vilify wolves for eating deer. You gotta eat to live your life, and the human (or, we can assume, bipedal humanoid) diet includes a need for complex protein chains, quite often found in animal meat. 

But the reason that we find cannibalism repulsive in western society is because it’s eating another human, despite the fact that humans are made of meat. It’s eating something that we consider sentient, dignified and possessed of a soul. Of course, the taboo also derives from the fact that you can contract prion disease from consuming human meat, but people in 11th century Normandy didn’t know that.  It is quite likely, especially given what we’ve seen of magical creatures and Ezran’s ability to talk to animals, that elves view non-human/elf creatures as sentient and possessed of a soul. If that’s the case, then OF COURSE they would see dark magic as horrific.

But eating meat is not on the same level because, as we see from the assassins, death is a part of life, and sometimes necessary. I imagine that hunting and taking a creature’s life for food is an act that is done with respect. The creatures are honored or thanked before they’re eaten or turned into leather. Highly ritualized to dignify that creature’s life.  Dark magic doesn’t do that. Dark magic sucks the whole life out, without so much of a how do you do.  It’s treating a person like a thing. It’s sucking all the life and essence out of someone so you can shoot fireballs or make fluffy pancakes. Lets be real - you don’t need to do either of those things, so the creature thus died in vain. 3. “The elves are selfish bastards for hogging all the magic.” I agree. Granted, their attitudes may have cooled in the ensuing centuries. It’s a new dawn, the era of Zubeia. We might see elves getting over their uppity selves and working to help teach humans magic. We might also see the show explore that kind of prejudice as Callum learns more magic. In fact, I hope we do. However, two wrongs dont make a right.  If Japan bombs the absolute fuckshit out of Hawaii, that does not make it okay to flash-fry Nagasaki with a weapon that blights the land and its people for years and years afterward.

To the elves (who are magical creatures and therefore totally usable as spell components), that’s what dark magic is. Suddenly, haha oh fuck, the humans have a fucking NUKE that every elf and dragon in Xadia is vulnerable to.  If a weapon was devised that ONLY a certain portion of the population was affected by, you better bet your sweet bippy that people would panic and make it forbidden and illegal, and severely punish the people who created it. ESPECIALLY if those people were already marginalized. Sucks, don’t it? Doesn’t mean the writing is bad for portraying people having a realistic reaction to something that is harmful to them. The elves aren’t justified in hogging the magic, and I hope future chapters will explore that. But the elves ARE a liiiiiittle bit justified in freaking out. I hold they could’ve come up with a better solution than BANISH HUMANS, but they didn’t. Makes for interesting story conflict, doesn’t it? 4. “Humans NEED dark magic!” / “Calling dark magic a shortcut is dumb” Did they tho? Did they really? Really really? We, modern day humans, don’t NEED smart phones (which rely on several rare earth minerals and are causing untold ecological disaster in areas where they’re miend). We, modern day humans, don’t NEED coal power (which is controlled by coal companies, who keep telling us that we totally do, despite many scientists saying that renewable energy is ready to go whenever). We don’t NEED blackberries from Mexico year-round, or a whole hell of a lot of the things we have come to rely on and consider part of our every day lives. All of these things are unnecessary and shortcuts to progress.

The only - ONLY! - good, necessary thing we’ve seen in canon that dark magic was required for was using the magma titan’s heart for saving people from famine.

A lot of the complaints about sustainable energy and efforts to heal the planet as climate change become increasingly a crisis stem from the fact that doing things RIGHT, in a way that is sustainable and doesn’t strip every last resource out of our home, is that it takes time. It takes SO MUCH TIME to do things properly. Yeah, we can keep going with our coal and our gas-guzzler cars and our fracking and our rare-earth metals... but we ARE going to run out. And then what?  Dark magic is the same principle. Eventually, you’re going to run out of resources. 

5. Where I think the show is going My main beef with those (and there’s a lot of ya, so I’m not intending to single anyone out) who say that the writing is lazy for dark magic bad elfs good is that the show is not over. Wonderstorm is doing their damndest to give us the saga. And they’ve said, out right, that there WILL be books, if nothing else.

You can’t judge a story’s merits when it’s only been half told. Right now, what the show has done is it has shown us the worst and best of the elves (for example, Khessa’s purity test vs Rayla refusing to kill Ez so she doesn’t perpetuate a cycle of violence) and the worst and best of the humans (ex: Viren forcibly turning thousands of people into monsters against their will vs Viren risking his life in order to save thousands of people from famine). The show has done well to demonstrate that there is good and bad in everyone, and it’s the choices you make and the respect you show others’ autonomy that makes you a good or bad person. The dominoes are in place. The saga has only begun. Being mad that Ezran burned an army (that he likely knew from Soren was invulnerable to fire) or that Aanya shot Kasef in the face (when Opeli would have told her that Kasef conspired behind Ezran’s back to usurp the throne, which is AN ACT OF WAR btw) means you aren’t looking at the big picture. There WILL be consequences for those actions in later seasons, mark my words.

I’m sorry if you’re a Viren or Claudia stan, but they have made choices that hurt other people, and it is in no way shape or form Ezran or Callum or Rayla or ANYONE ELSE’S fault that they made the choices they did. Instead of being mad at the show for not portraying your fav as an innocent victim, be glad that you got such a wonderfully complex set of villains who, quite likely, will get a bomb-ass redemption arc. In fact, I’ll bet you anything that Viren’s walk back from the edge has already begun. The dude fucking DIED, and he’s not going to be eager to get in there and get all grabby with the power any time soon. 

That’s what good writing IS - conflict. Tension. People making morally questionable choices. We like it because every day people are hypocrites and morally questionable. You, and I, and everyone we know. Nobody’s perfect and getting cranky and painting the protagonists with the broad villain brush so you can feel good about liking a problematic fave is... some peak tumblr bullshit, tbh.  It’s okay to like characters who aren’t perfect. How fucking boring fiction would be if everyone was perfect.

Now if I can ask my mutuals to please tag their criticisms of the show that go in the vein of “the writing is bad because dark magic is portrayed so negatively/they don’t hold the protags accountable/elves good humans bad” with “TDP critical” I would greatly appreciate it. It’s getting to the degree where things are becoming very not fun and making me cranky.  Thank you, Renee out. 

[groundramon]

Okay I am super curious...what happened with Hamilton? I saw that post and felt like I left my body in search for understanding

Hokay so I dont know all of the exact details, since I’m staying far far away from Hamilton and everything to do with it (things that skirt the lines between fiction and nonfiction like that scare me //bricked) but basically there was a person named Isra who supposedly was a HIV-positive lesbian who lived in India with her also HIV-positive wife.  Due to this identity, she made a blog called hivliving and made a Hamilton au fanfiction where the characters were living with HIV.  She basically used this identity as a non-white trans lesbian living with HIV to justify her writing the fanfiction, because yknow, that’s how tumblr works.  You’re always insensitive and bigoted 24/7 no matter what you do or you’re completely incapable of being offensive if you’re part of the minority.

Anyways, this went on for quite some time; its only been since the callout post that it was in the major public sphere, but the person behind hivliving existed on the internet for quite some time.  “Isra” also had a main called allolesbean, and her supposed wife I believe also had an account (or it was a friend of hers, one of the two, im not sure which), also run by the person behind hivliving.  At first allolesbean claimed that she stole someone else’s life story, a friend of her friend’s or something, but eventually I believe the person who made the initial callout post determined that Isra didn’t exist and there was no one that this person based her personas off of.  It was, however, determined that the person behind these accounts was a white American girl going into college.  One of the things linking to this was the fact that she used a money donating system that wasn’t valid in India, despite the fact that there are plenty of systems for donating and transferring money that ARE valid in india.  Then some other shit happened, pretty sure the callout-er threatened to doxx her to get her to talk and/or refund the money she got from donations but I dont remember the exact details.  Oh yeah she took donations too, evident by the money thing I was talking about before.  I dont know how many donations she got, but the person who called her out said that she should refund the money.

But lets go back to the person who called her out.  There were rumors that the person who called hivliving out was not so innocent themselves.  There were distant memories of the person who called hivliving out writing a cannibal mermaid au Hamilton fanfiction.  Yup.  I believe some people also remembered allolesbean and her friends harassing said callout-er into deleting the fanfic since it was “insensitive”.  Which no shit, but anyways…

Someone went and searched for proof that callout-er had written this fanfiction.  To their surprise, it appeared the cannibal mermaid au Hamilton fanfiction was still up, but was also linked to a different account.  So the person doing the research decided to ask the person behind the fanfiction that was still up about the drama.  The person confirmed that they were indeed a different person, but that the callout-er HAD written a cannibal mermaid au Hamilton fanfiction and deleted it in the past, reiterating the rumors that had been floating around.  However, callout-er’s cannibal mermaid au hamilton fanfiction also involved a real-life person, the person behind the Hamilton musicals.

The person who was doing this research eventually pieced together that the callout-er made the callout post/did the research to get revenge on allolesbean and her friends for harassing them and forcing them to delete their fanfiction.  After this was leaked, the callout-er deleted their posts on the subject (and presumably deleted their blog entirely; the blog is still up and I never saw it down, however all posts were deleted and images/themes removed and the header changed to “CANNIBAL MERMAID FANFIC” so im assuming someone hijacked it for lols) and…well that’s about where we’re at now.

So basically, the main things to take away from this are:

1. a bored white girl faked being at least two separate people living in a completely different country and continent.  She faked a terminal illness to get donations, and she presumably faked her sexuality and gender identity as well.

2. another bored individual wanted revenge for said bored white girl cyberbulling them for making an extremely problematic fanfiction, so they doxxed her

3. at least one hamilton HIV au fanfiction exists

4. at least two Cannibal Mermaid Hamilton au fanfics exist

5. shit like this is why I have depression but its also one of the few things that can bring me joy anymore

6. hamilton was a mistake

And sources because I wasn’t even sure of half this shit until I did some half-assed research following up on some blogs I’ve seen posting about it:

about what hivliving/allolesbean did: https://ratspotting.tumblr.com/post/166850440970/wait-can-you-please-explain-in-a-short-paragraph (the confession links still work, however unfortunately their links to the original callout posts no longer work since, as i said, the callout blog was deleted.  I did see the callout posts when they were up though, so there was legitimate evidence backing up their claims.

about the callout-er: http://benepla.tumblr.com/post/166869386991/ive-read-ur-posts-on-the-allolesbean-thing-and-god(not sourced since OP was the one who found this information out, but I’m hoping what they said was true.  I did google “cannibal mermaid hamilton fanfiction” and got a result, so at least that part of what they said was true, so I’m gonna trust them.)

PS: there’s something fishy to me about the fact that hivliving and alllolesbean admitted the errors of their ways and left their blogs active instead of just deleting themselves from the face of the internet.  She didn’t even delete one or the other, she just did the same thing on both, and even though its been a day or two she hasn’t deleted them.  Unfortunately, I dont have the time or energy to go down that rabbit hole.  If someone else would like to see if they can find a reason for that, I’d love to know what you find, but I wouldnt even know where to start with that can of worms.  I’m not a doxxer dude

[type-a-nomad]

First Blog Post: Cape Town Day 1

Sunday Feb 11 2018

Growing Pains

I landed in Cape Town at 7:30am local time (CTT= Cape Town Time/ CT= Cape Town).  Because I slept from SFO to Heathrow, I got little to no sleep from Heathrow to Cape Town, resulting in my accidental all-nighter from 11:30pm CTT.  Everything is sort of hazy and out of whack.  It seems like everything that could have gone slightly wrong, has gone slightly wrong.  Or, at least, very far from the expected result.  The first of these instances was in the CT airport.  There was a driver that was supposed to meet me at 8am CTT and by 8:20am I was starting to feel quite nervous, as it is easy to direct my unease about the general situation of moving continents towards a short-term, tangible problem like my transportation.  By this time, I am sweating from nerves and general physical exhaustion from hauling my duffle bag around looking for the guy who is supposed to have a sign directing me to him.  Finally, I call the emergency number of the program I’m going through and they tell me to go to the information desk and wait for him to meet me there.  So I do.   Another 20 minutes later, all is well and my driver, Kyle, is blasting Lil’ Jon while speeding down the highway past the poorest parts of CT.  There are thousands of houses made out of scrap metal.  I saw roofs held onto structures by the weight of fractured concrete, wooden planks and sheets of tin propped up against each other, some structures were even two stories high.  Then we were zooming through Cape Town, the first thing I saw was the prison, which was almost as depressing as the slums.  But once we cleared the poorer outskirts, the water was visible and it was stunning.  It was like the surface was covered in gold glitter it was sparkling so much.  We stopped in front of a house in a rundown neighborhood, directly facing a large, white, and mostly windowless primary school.  Kyle grabs my duffle bag out of the car (bless him) and dispassionately drops me and it at the front door of a dusty, brick-red house.  I ring the doorbell as Kyle drives off.  Nobody answers.  After a minute, I ring again.  Still, nobody answers.  I reach past the metal grate blocking the wooden door and knock.  I am starting to panic (again) and am knocking and ringing, feeling stranded and mildly disgusted at the dead, partially-squished rat I had to walk over to get to the door.  10 minutes pass.  I am still frantically knocking.  Then, I hear something. A short girl answers the door.  She’s maybe 24, with a sleeve of tattoos- one of which is a large elephant with a very South African looking tree next to it.  I introduce myself and she says her name is Cassie and she essentially runs the hostel.  She takes me upstairs and shows me my room with three bunkbeds lining the walls, and a file-cabinet-like dresser against the fourth.  The floor is covered in clothes and there is a girl sleeping in her underwear surrounded by around 5 half-empty fanta bottles and two sticky glasses with flat soda in them.  I say hello and she makes no noise, clearly a bit irritated her sleep has been interrupted.  Cassie tells me to meet her downstairs in a few minutes when I settle in.  I sit down on the bed and basically curl up in a ball of confusion, anxiety, and relief.   When I have taken some deep breaths, reapply deodorant, and listed things I am grateful for and things I want to learn, I hop down the dirty stairs in the dim  house and find Cassie.  She gives me a brief tour of the house and shows me how I have to shower in a bucket and then dump the bucket in a larger bucket.  Then, when you want to take a number 2 you have to walk to the big bucket, fill up a small bucket with water, then find a way to dump the water in the small bucket into the toilet tank so you can flush.  This is way harder than it sounds and it an extremely awkward process that is almost as stressful as it is embarrassing for me because if you grab the bucket everyone knows you aren't just going number 1.  Most of my stress here hinges on the idea of making myself more embarrassed than I already am by fûcking up this process in one way (technically this whole extravaganza is called a grey-water system). After the somewhat unnerving house tour, I am starting to realize how incredibly foreign all of this is.  Moving to and living in Florence was traveling to another country, Cape Town is another planet.  Everything feels slightly uneasy when you walk down the streets.  I felt very watched and distrustful of anyone around me because I had been warned so thoroughly about the impressive theft that was pulled off, even in broad daylight. Then, the first genuinely positive interaction of my day happens.  Three girls, Jonna (Sweden), Ella (Sweden), and Natália (Brazil) say that they're gong to the beach and if I don’t have any plans I should come with them to get lunch and then go to the beach.  The tight little ball in my chest loosens. We all go to the grocery store and upon our return, Cassie comes up to me and tells me that tomorrow I am moving to a HomeStay.  My reaction is:  “WHAAAT??!?!?!?!??!?!????”.  I was NOT supposed to be at a Home-Stay and was clearly told by the volunteer service that I would be based at the volunteer hostel.  I was completely caught off-guard and this was the LAST mix-up I would expect to happen.  I make her double-check that it’s the right person she’s talking about and she confirms that yes, in fact my program is in an area much closer to the poorer neighborhoods, because those are the kids we are serving.  Thus, I need to live close to them and that means living with a family.  WHAT THE FÜCK?  I regain my zen and try to just be a “go with the flow” kind of person, but I feel like a rock being unwillingly dragged down a river by the force of the water.  After many minutes of mindful breathing and sunscreen application, we are in the uber to the beach.   The beach is gorgeous.  The South African Sun was incredibly intense.  Even when applying several layers of thick sunscreen and sitting entirely in the shade, my skin was very offended I had decided to move to this continent.  That being said, there were white fluffy sand, colored umbrellas, beautiful and tan, beachy South Africans everywhere, so I told my skin to shut up.  My particular favorite of all my people-watching specimen was a 50-something woman in a hot pink bikini who was so freckled she passed it off as a deep tan.  She had a lower back tattoo that said “Brooklyn Forever” in swirly writing, some Chinese characters on her back, a ring of thorns around her bicep, and a kiss mark on her lower right hip.  Her small white lap dog came over and chilled on my towel while she drank some alcoholic beverage and told her four-year-old daughter to move out of her tanning chair because “I’m an ádult” (only self-important people say adult as aaaaadult).  She also told her friend to “stay on the hunt”, when a 20 year old lifeguard passed and they both obviously checked him out, even though they were both wearing wedding rings and surrounded by their own children.  From eavesdropping on their conversations I learned her name was Lisa, which fits all too well.   I hang out with my new friends and learn lots of cool information.  For example, Natalia has breast implants her boyfriend paid for as a present to her 5 months ago and is very happy to talk about them as a point of braggadocio (as it turns out, two americans in this volunteer hostel also have breast implants”.  Ella has four tattoos, one of which is very large on her forearm that says “There is no progress without struggle”.  She says she almost ran to the tattoo parlor on her 18th birthday to get it— but now she thinks it’s cliche.  Jonna is amazed at my ability to recite facts I learned from various podcasts I listened during my unintentional all-nighter to Cape Town.  For example, your likelihood of getting cancer increases by 40% if you average less than 7 hours of sleep per night over your lifetime.  Cassie and her sister Ashley end up joining us.  By that time I was entirely exhausted.  My face was telling me it was time to get out of the sun even though I was in the shade, with a hat and sunscreen on.  And, again, I was entirely exhausted so interaction with new people was a strain I was really not feeling.   Finally, we call and uber and go back to the hostel. I cannot get the idea of the host family off of my mind as I am moving there tomorrow and have exactly no information on who they are, where they live, what the conditions will be, how many people live there, etc.. I decide the best way to ease my anxiety is to get something done.  So, I go to the drug store down the street, Click-It.  I buy around 10 items and when I’m checking out, the cashier does something very odd.  He looks at me, smiles, and says “when you leave the alarm by the door might go off, just keep walking”.  I kind of smile and then process what he’s really said, then process the fact that him and his female co-worker at the other register just smiled at each other clearly in regards to what he has just said.  “Why” I ask.  “Because I am not going to scan all the items they want me to scan.  Don’t worry about it.  Just keep walking”.  At this point I’m like WHAT THE FÜCK IS GOING ON PART 2.  Is he saying he is giving me some of my items for free? What on earth is happening.  Well, then I go to pay with my Charles Schwab card that is supposed to be perfect and seamless to use and it’s DECLINED.  So I pay with Wells Fargo and the world starts turning again.  Right after I pick up my bag he reminds me “dont forget: DO NOT stop walking”. And Im like “Dude I just wanted my leave-in conditioner, I don’t need Mission-Impossible”  But, whatever, I’m only 95% sure I can understand the gist of what he is saying because I am still having trouble understanding South African English accents. I scurry home, through the accusatorially beeping metal detector with my newly aquired, and possibly partially stolen goods and take my brief, bucket shower.  Now, I am hiding in my top bunk, trying to collect myself and hide from human interaction because honestly, I’m getting close to being at wits-end.  I am too overwhelmed to edit this so #nofilter yay I completed my first blog post.  Happy First Day In South Africa, Bitches.

xoxo Q