#nobody knows and she doesn’t care because she has her millions made from that one frat thing

[girlscoutbrownies]

sbg headcanons!

(i had to put a title because it keeps just showing up as “aiden” in my notifs)

some of my favourite school bus graveyard headcanons! (in celebration of 101 followers) some are mine, some belong to other people that i’ve taken as well

these got really, really long so ill split it into two parts: aiden, tyler, and taylor for this post and ashlyn, ben, and logan will be in the next

——

aiden

(bit of a tw for disassociation around the end)

- uses he/any pronouns, he mostly doesn’t give a fuck. also doesn’t care if you stick to he/him because he likes it. he also tries out mirror pronouns every once in a while and flipflops between any

- unlabelled energy. also doesn’t care abt that type of stuff, but he’s asexual and it takes him a while to grow feelings. he’s afraid of letting people close to him but it really doesn’t matter to him, not that much. he’s pretty apathetic about it

- generally smells like shittily applied cedarwood cologne. it’s one of those cheap drugstore brands and sometimes he forgets to apply it in the morning, and he doesn’t spray it very well. also smells like grass sometimes

- his favourite subject is psychology/maths/anything logic based (he likes those puzzles). growing up with his bitchass karen mom who probably twisted all the words he said, he doesn’t like cryptic or vague language or poetry (english class) because it reminds him of her. in math, there’s only one answer. in english, there’s hundreds. also the words swim on the paper and he finds it hard to focus

- he has his ears pierced. he begged his parents to take him to an ear piercing studio they just ended up taking him to claire’s but he was still so happy about it

- he BEGGED for a dog or a pet when he was very little but eventually stopped at some point. he asked for stuffed animals and never got any because “it would be too hard to keep track of when we’re moving and you would lose them and get sad” and he’s still very upset about it. used to hug like three pillows when he slept

- he was told they were settling down in georgia and now his current room has millions of stuffed animals i will not hear any arguments about this

- he’s a kicker in his sleep (when he gets any). he kicks plushies off his bed like all the time, he’s not apologetic though he’s just like “oh shit”

- worst and best guy to have a sleepover with. super clingy

- he knows very few actual life skills other than operating a microwave for frozen meals because he largely grew up alone without his parental figures in his life. ashlyn and tyler eventually teach him how to cook

- his growth is stunted bc of that period in his life and he’s short like ashlyn

- he is a HORRIBLE gossip addict. they’ll be sitting at the lunch table eating in silence and he drops “did you hear that samantha’s parents are divorced and madison dropped her bc samantha’s mom doesn’t drive them to the mall anymore” like HUH WHERE DID YOU HEAR THIS?

- he gets school lunch and very rarely (if ever) brings lunch from home. sometimes ben makes him lunches

- plays with his food (this is canon) but he makes storylines out of whatever he does its like his personal roman empire

- big fan of extreme foods (spicy, sour, etc) ((he grew up eating plain ramen)) and loves weird food combinations. everyone always makes weird faces at him when theyre at the mall and he orders weird shit

- he doesn’t know proper meal etiquette until someone has to tell him, his parents didn’t teach him anything (I HATE THEM)

- he’s a really bad cook like ben because he always ends up getting distracted, and somehow manages to skip over steps in the recipes.

- he probably likes cooking shows though and is like “yeah i could do that” (he can’t do that)

- the first time someone (tyler) made aiden a homecooked meal he started cry laughing (it was mostly crying) (nobody talks about it)

- the few times his mom has made him meals whenever she’s home they’re really bad. they don’t taste anything like home, but he didn’t know what home tasted like so he just cried. his mom thought it was because of how good it was (it wasn’t) and he just cried harder

- he dislikes bitter flavours, especially like, orange juice that you make from scratch but you don’t put any sugar in it (it’s because his mom once tried to make homemade orange juice/lemonade to feel more like a “real mom” and it was horrible

- he’ll still eat bitter food though he just wouldn’t like it that much

- likes crunchy food or food that pops in your mouth (poprocks) bc he thinks its cool

- probably needs glasses from how long he’s spent staring at screens (his backstory)

- the one thing his parents consistently did as a kid was take him to his doctors appointments so he has stellar teeth

- he’s fit and fairly athletic (jumping off walls and all) but he doesn’t play sports because he just. isn’t interested in any of it. he tries everything but nothing really sticks that much

- he eats his greens but probably wouldn’t care much for the healthy vegan lifestyle, not that much of a picky eater (this part is canon)

- his favourite holiday is halloween because 1. candy (which he didn’t get much as a kid unless he specifically asked for it or ben brought it over) and 2. he loves dressing up it’s so fun to him

- understimulation is the BANE of his existence he genuinely wants to tear out his own hair every time he gets like that. gets really irritated

- he disassociates a lot, generally experiences a lot of derealization. he doesn’t feel like he’s in his own body sometimes

- insomniac

- chases thrills so that he can “feel” something. doesn’t care if it hurts him or not, because at least then he’ll remember he’s a real person and that his life matters

- really bad at telling when people are lying/are irritated with him. he just keeps pushing until they explode

- good with secrets (his own) but isn’t good at deflecting if asked about someone else’s. he’s just like “ummm. would u look over there. a bird!”

- runs really fast, he wakes up early in the morning to take a walk around the neighborhood. he sometimes encounters tyler if he happens to go into his city (which is often, because he doesn’t like being in his house)

- his house is always really cold, which is why he tends to run really warm (his body is compensating). he knows how to turn the ac off, but it always ends up turning back on in the middle of the night

- he grew up learning The Gifted Child instrument; the piano. he dislikes classical music (he says it’s boring but it’s because of this). he also almost got forced to learn the violin but he once practiced so hard his fingers started bleeding which is how he got out of it

- likes verbal validation bc his parents never told him they were proud of him

taylor

- she/they cis demigirl, gets a bit upset at being misgendered though (people think she’s the transfem twin because tyler passes really well)

- bisexual fem pref

- decorates her locker for almost every occasion. halloween, christmas, easter, birthdays. also decorates other people’s lockers for their birthdays before school starts with sticky notes

- has tons of stuff in her locker (except food because tyler won’t let her) just in case anyone needs anything but she’s not very organized so she doesn’t know where anything is

- because of this she’s one of those people that barely makes it to the door before the bell rings but she’s trying to fix that habit

- enjoys crime documentaries/true crime, horror stuff. used to make tyler watch with her but his anxiety gets really bad and he started getting paranoid

- adores christmas bc it’s a family holiday she makes tyler and her mom homemade gifts every year

- loves dogs with every bone in her body she asks santa for one every year but alas. tyler always has to write “a letter from santa” back saying they ran out of dogs at the north pole

- uses emoticons like “:D :] :3” all the time when she types, downloaded a bunch of sticker packs too. especially cat ones

- had her future all planned out as a kid and told her dad she’d be a mechanical engineer and build trains and rockets to bring him places when he started getting really sick and couldn’t move anymore

- her hair is actually kind of dry (compared to aiden’s or ashlyn’s) because they couldn’t afford great shampoo or anything

- has an ehh skincare routine and doesn’t care much for her fashion sense, just wears whatever’s comfortable

- knows a lot of random facts as conversation starters, she’s surprisingly good at small talk ( + comforting people)

- gossips with aiden aallll the time bc she’s super sociable and knows lots of people who tell her secrets. she doesn’t tell any of the important ones but just little drama things

- her and aiden are bffs

- really likes kids because they’re funny, she has a big imagination like them so it’s easy for her to play with them

- she’s a swiftie and whenever someone asks her if she likes taylor swift as a joke bc of her name she says “i like all music!” (she loves tswift)

- really likes sweets over most types of food, she’s healing her inner child guys

- has always ALWAYS wanted to go to a circus/carnival/festival when she was younger, but they couldn’t afford tickets. she still has that dream but she obviously has bigger priorities now…

tyler

- transmale he/him

- doesn’t care that much about dating, he actually doesn’t think about it that much until he meets The Gang. he always too busy taking care of his family to bother with relationships

- dislikes heavy meals, eats in small portions. it’s a habit

- used to be a picky eater but isn’t anymore, when he was younger they struggled to put food on the table so

- he’s like tigris from ballad of songbirds and snakes; when he prepared food for the family he’d eat bits and pieces of it while cooking. eats raw meat sometimes but once got sick from it so never again because he doesn’t want people taking care of him

- he HATES being sick. HATES HATES HATES it, hates having to burden people

- stress cooks because he likes having things to do with his hands. he also runs laps/paces around when he’s stressed

- runs his hands through his hair so it’s always messy

- he doesn’t bother combing his hair unless it’s for a special occasion like the first day of school, he just doesn’t care that much

- gets up early like aiden to keep up his physical fitness, doesn’t stray far though because his mom wakes up around the same time he does

- is VERY punctual. will be furious if someone makes plans and then is late. always arrives somewhere like, fifteen minutes early. he’s trying to break taylor’s habit of being late

- occasionally scolds taylor about how messy her locker is

- is extremely (and kind of scarily) meticulous. clean backpack, clean locker, clean room. it’s a habit

- book smart and figures things out pretty easily. he has an internal computer inside his head i swear. latches onto concepts very quickly

- likes math because he’s good at memorizing concepts but biology is his worst enemy, he gets queasy very easily

- motion sickness

- doesn’t actually have a set plan for the future, other than “help his family.” will probably do something related to sports (sports scholarship) or will do something math/analytical related

- spams people when they don’t respond to him but quits eventually (semicanon)

- has some sort of separation anxiety i swear he does

- keeps every single promise he makes because he hates broken promises (his dad told him he’d be fine and out of the hospital soon), he also doesn’t make a lot of promises

- dislikes nicknames like “champ” and “buddy”

- he’s ambidextrous

- he always seems to be like, tense? can’t relax at all. it might be because of his anxiety (HE HAS ANXIETY)

- only ever relaxes if he’s at home

- rarely watches television, he says it’s a waste of time (he always gets distracted and gets up and goes to do something else) he can leave it in the background though

- i think he has chronic pain, i don’t know where but i just think he does. everything just aches sometimes and he’s so young fuck life

- he’s okay with kids like his sister, not as good as her but he’ll take care of them (habit x37362828) he’d probably say everything really monotone though “there’s santa claus, wow.”

- he and taylor both have a pretty strong southern accent from living in middle of nowhere georgia (i think someone made an art post on this a while back :D)

- is really bad at video games because he gets frustrated easily

- he grinds his teeth when he sleeps and has jaw pain what a loser

[laundrybiscuits]

Eden actually likes her name. When she thinks about the muslin-draped horrors she could’ve gotten stuck with, like poor Suzie, she feels guiltily glad she dodged that bullet. If she’d been the one who had to shoulder the impossible burden of being named Suzie, who knows how she might’ve turned out.

Eden is a word that could go a lot of ways. It’s almost as good as Lilith or Isis or something. It’s the kind of name that could be sexy, in the right hands. The kind of name you could say on stage: ladies and gentlemen, introducing the one and only Eden—

That’s where the picture stalls out, though. Eden Bingham is pretty awful, no matter how you spin it. She wants to pick a stage name like some glamorous Hollywood actress, but she hasn’t decided exactly what she wants yet. She thinks it would be real elegant to pick something French, like…like Verne. 

There’s a battered paperback tucked under her mattress at home, where sticky, prying little fingers can’t get at it. She’s not a fast reader, but she’s read it about a million times by now. Sometimes when she can’t sleep, she’ll take it out and just squint at it in the moonlight, tracing her fingertips over the faded elephant on the cover. It’s a story about some guy who was so bored he decided to travel all around the world, and nobody stopped him. He could just go. He didn’t have any kids or anything that he had to take care of or look after; in fact, there was some guy whose whole job was to look after him. 

For a little while, Eden thought about borrowing the main guy’s last name, but Eden Fogg sounds kind of old and stuffy. She could take the French valet’s name, but she’s not completely confident she knows how to pronounce Passepartout, and she’s terrified she’s going to say it wrong and nobody’s going to take her seriously ever again. 

The author’s French too, though, and his name seems a lot easier to handle. So, lately she’s been looking in the mirror and saying Eden Verne, hi my name is Eden Verne real quiet to herself, just testing it out. She’s not sure about it yet, but it’s definitely better than Eden Bingham. 

Eden Bingham is just a handful of years away from Edie Bingham, who spends her time looking after a house full of kids and wears shapeless floor-length dresses. But Eden Verne could be someone who travels and wears exciting makeup. Eden Verne drinks and swears and smokes, and she never has to deal with kids ever again. Beautiful, sophisticated men and women alike despair for love of her, but she never lets anyone stay more than a night. 

Anyway, she doesn’t have to figure out if she can carry off Verne yet, because the stupid boy she followed halfway across the country introduced her to his friends as Eden Bingham, so she never got the chance to decide if she was going to say something different. She probably wouldn’t have, but—maybe she would. Maybe. She’ll never know.

The thing with Argyle fizzled out pretty quick. He’s cute, and making out with him is fun, but he doesn’t ever seem to want anything real out of life. Eden can’t understand him at all, and worse yet, she’s pretty sure he doesn’t understand her. When they’re high, they communicate just fine giggling about the cosmos, but that’s not enough. She’s sure there’s supposed to be more, even if she’s not entirely sure what that means.

She broke up with him on an impulse, and sometimes she regrets it. He’s a good guy. He’s not like any other guy she’s ever known. He’s willing to drive clear across the country, which is what she liked about him to begin with. Maybe that’s as good as it gets for her.

But she can’t take it back now. It’s not even that she thinks he’d say no, necessarily; she just can’t handle the idea of trying to walk back something like that. She’d die of humiliation before the words made it out of her mouth. 

So Eden’s just here, in Hawkins, staying in her ex-fling’s best friend’s step-dad’s spare room because it’s still marginally better than having to hitch home to Utah. Argyle is planning to drive back to California in a few weeks, so she’s going to just ride with him then. In the meantime, she’s going to have a nice, quiet vacation in Indiana, doing whatever it is Midwesterners do in the summer, and then she’ll go home and nothing at all about the life of Eden Bingham will have changed.

[lindszeppelin]

I used to live in LA and I back up your friend saying paparazzi aren’t waiting for people, even in Malibu. I’ve literally never seen paparazzi but I’ve seen famous people. Like, REALLY famous people- who have been famous for decades and even in one instance was in the middle of a HUGE legal scandal. No paparazzi (and the legal scandal one was in 2019 so still very recent therefore regarding the same climate as how this stuff works now).

I don’t want to dislike Kaia (it doesn’t really feel good to dislike people, or at least it isn’t productive) but the more I realized the UK Daily Mail has been covering her or at least her family from birth, the more I realized she really isn’t anything special and just had PR this whole time. So many people still don’t know who or what a Kaia Gerber even is because not everyone loves fashion, we don’t live in a monoculture anymore where everyone is consuming the same content, and she’s hasn’t even done a lot in Hollywood besides being an obvious nepo baby by being so bad at acting and yet…she gets “caught” by the paps getting her damn green drinks and going to the gym? Make it make sense. That’s totally orchestrated. I can’t trust anything out of Kaia Gerber’s mouth once I put that all together. I know a lot of stars do this, but most actually have talent and we all know that she lol…doesn’t exactly have talent!

It’s all also a play from the Kris Jenner bible ( her and Cindy are friends…) by creating publicity and forcing relevance. Nothing is real or organic ( not even her social media…8 or 9 million last time I checked and yet most ppl I know in real life have never heard of her… #ThingsThatMakeYouGoHmmmm). Side note: has anyone ever investigated her social media stats on social blade (blaze?) or does nobody care enough about her to look into it?

When people wonder why Austin and Kaia are hiding…it’s because they can easily hide. Maybe Deux Moi spotting or fans on cell phones sometimes, but again, we’re not in a monoculture so not everyone knows who they are enough to care if they saw them (and I say this as an Austin fan who’s glad he’s getting his flowers; however he only recently made it in a major mainstream way and not everyone saw Elvis/are now learning more about him via MOTA and Dune. All due respect to him but he’s still being cemented into culture in real time and isn’t say, Matt Damon yet…but hey probably one day!). Also regarding both LA and New York, as your friend said, celebrities are around so we largely don’t care and do not take pics when we see them. It’s soooo easy to hide as a celebrity. It’s ridiculous when people act like the paps invade a celebrity’s privacy or that Austin (or anyone else for that matter) must be “hiding” and can’t be living a normal life. HA.

Final thought: even though I said Austin is just getting warmed up, let’s be real and admit he’s more respected than Kaia and likely more liked/known regarding household name recognition. And yet KAIA is papped more than her bf who was nominated for an Oscar?!? And people think that’s just an organic occurrence? 😂😂😂😂😂😂 People need to do some critical thinking and realize what’s happening here!

holy shit i love coming back home from dinner and seeing this beauty in my inbox

you said everything so flawlessly that we have been thinking and saying for a long time, and it's great that you put it in these terms. nothing is ever real or organic about kaia, and kaia with austin together. there are a lot of people her age with talent that i can respect, but she has zero talent and only gets what she does through her parents and by dating austin. it's simple as that. her dating austin was just another PR maneuver to keep her relevant.

[irishhills]

neck bruise

Blair’s life is one of comparison. Whether she’s evaluating metaphors or looking to see if someone else’s dress at the school dance is prettier than hers, she’s always judging. And no matter what happens, she never feels like she comes out on top.

Take her eighth-grade graduation, just about two years ago. She wore this unusual dress, made from patterns that shouldn’t go together, but somehow, they worked. It was the perfect length, the perfect cut, her hair bounced whenever she walked, she had the perfect lip gloss on. And when she and her family took pictures on the front porch, she felt on top of the world.

But then, they got to school. Blair looked around at all the other girls in her class. And with no rhyme or reason, with no hatred for anyone but herself, she felt uglier. Worse. Like there had been a memo to wear taffeta or sequins, and she missed it. She felt like Little Orphan Annie when all she wanted was to be part of the group. It wasn’t that she liked taffeta or sequins, or even the satin contraption Eliza was wearing. It was that she wanted to feel like she was part of something, like she was part of a moment, like she was doing age fourteen correctly.

Nobody was mean to her. Nobody laughed at her dress or made her feel left out. As a matter of fact, Blair got tons of compliments from all sorts of girls in her class that night, and it seemed like they were really being honest. Everyone was nice, and Blair tried her best to be nice back. But every few minutes, she just wanted to cry. They were being fourteen correctly, somehow, and Blair was being fourteen all wrong.

That’s mostly how she feels today, at sixteen, when Eliza pulls down her thick winter scarf to reveal her neck bruise. Except this is so much worse than not feeling like she’s wearing the wrong dress because Blair didn’t want to wear any other dress. She wants that kind of neck bruise. And she wants it now.

“Will you stop calling it a neck bruise?” Eliza asks, wrapping the scarf around herself again, in the cold February air. “It’s a hickey.”

“I deal in translations,” Blair says. “To me, it’s a neck bruise.”

And that’s a lie. Blair would call it a hickey, too. It’s just easier to downplay it now, like it doesn’t mean anything, like it could happen to anyone. Blair knows that’s not true. Eliza gets a hickey because she’s doing sixteen correctly, because she has a boyfriend, because that boyfriend makes out with her nearly everyday. Luke is older, wiser, and more aware of how his body works. More aware than Chris, his brother, Blair’s best friend who wouldn’t look at her romantically for all the money in the world. Not that she’d ever think about paying him.

But what must it be like? She’s dreamt of it a million times. She and Chris in the backseat of a car, uninhibited by years of best friendship, making out like the present has always been worth more than the past. That’s the problem with Chris. His mind is a scrapbook, and he never closes it. Not like Blair. Blair wants to get the jump. She doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t hesitate, and yet, she can’t seem to give up the guy who doesn’t want her. If she wants a neck bruise – a hickey – she’ll have to turn to someone else.

The thought of giving up on Chris makes her want to vomit.

When she graduates from high school in two years, they’ll know. Somehow, everyone in the audience will know. Blair Donnelly will graduate having never been kissed, never been touched, never been thought about. She’ll walk across the stage like Snow White in the first two acts, and everyone will know. No one will care. But everyone will know.

She’s doing it wrong. High school. All wrong. She’s supposed to live like Eliza, in the backseats of senior boys’ cars, or at parties and games and all the places where you get stories. You don’t get stories from your head. They all stop somewhere. It’s why every time Blair imagines going further and further with Chris, her imagination gets blurry until it fades to black. They fade to black in all her favorite movies, on all her favorite TV shows.

“Do you want me to talk to Luke?” Eliza asks, scaring Blair out of her thoughts.

“What?” Blair asks. “Eliza, I don’t … I’m not gonna make out with your boyfriend.”

“No, you sure as hell aren’t. I meant … do you want me to talk to Luke? See if he could get through to Chris?”

Blair sighs. Nothing more pathetic than a game of telephone.

“No,” she says. “If Chris wants something from me, he’ll ask for it. And if he doesn’t …”

“You’ll buy some cats?”

Blair snorts. Just like Eliza to jump to stereotypes. At the end of the day, she’s still the daughter of a prom queen, still trying to fit into the crown for herself.

“Sure,” she says. “If that’s what you think I should do.”

They try not to talk about it for the rest of the day, but it hangs in the air between them. Not jealousy, not really. Blair would rather die than make out with Luke Egan. But inadequacy.

That’s the word of her life.

(part of @nosebleedclub february challenge -- day 11! apparently, i can't count, and i scheduled seven days for this blog, not eight. so expect five more vignettes from this blog in february!)

[littlefroginthegarden]

Sold to Heartsteel 1/24

its a liiiittle bit late but whatever... im trying to write an advents calendar fic, theres some buffer but ill write during the month so im also open to input if you have any good ideas :)

hope you enjoy!

Tags: semi-ironic adaptation of 'sold to one direction' trope so yeah theres obv selling involved, angst, fluff, friendship, romance, maybe smut, mlm, transmasc character, some transphobia but mostly just parents being shit but nothing explicit or slurs or stuff, yeah i think thats about it, ill update this if anything changes xoxo

Part 1

Hi, my name is Hwei and I’m a misunderstood artist. Well, that’s not exactly true. My Parents hate my art and they think it’s just a waste of time. But under the name DemonBrush I’m known all around the world, my art account just recently hit two million followers. Which didn’t help me at all in my real life. I’ve been 18 now for a few months but my parents still act like I’m 16. I haven’t finished school yet and I can’t move out because my anxiety has made working impossible so far. My parents don’t allow me to get therapy or meds and I’m on their insurance so there’s nothing I can do. I sigh and try to think about something else but looking out my small window into the dark December morning isn’t helping. I go and pull the curtains, turn on my fairy lights and sit at my small desk that is crammed between the bed and the heavy wooden dresser. 

My reflection stares at me in the mirror, dark shadows under my amethyst eyes, a sign that I slept terribly, once again. The nightmares wouldn’t leave me alone. I sigh and start doing my makeup, nothing bright, just some smudged dark eyeshadow and black eyeliner on my waterline. My mom was probably gonna complain again but I don’t care. Last week she told me “People might think you’re gay!” Yeah, sure mom. I mean, why do you think I have all these Heartsteel posters hanging in my room? Because I love their one song so much? But when she says "gay" she means "lesbian". She would have an aneurysm if I tried to explain to her that I’m trans. And then she would probably throw me out. As if she could read my thoughts, I hear her shouting from downstairs “Come down immediately, Hwa! I can hear that you’re up.”

Ugh.

I throw on a black oversized hoodie that matches my skinny jeans (also black) and put my dark juniper green hair in a messy bun before I run downstairs as quick as I can. Better not make mom wait, she’s awful enough as is.

When I enter the kitchen, I almost bump into a large man in a suit that is standing next to my mom.

“Oh fuck, sorry!” I quickly say, getting a death stare from my mom but for once she doesn’t even berate me for swearing. She just looks between me and this dude, who was wearing dark sunglasses (in December!) for some fucking reason.

“Who is this?” I ask after a few moments of awkward silence.

“My name is Mr. Mundo, nice to meet you, Hwa.” His voice fits his impressive stature perfectly.

My mother steps forward and puts her hand on my shoulder, looking at me more seriously than I have ever seen her. “You know that we haven’t had the easiest time since dad lost his job. And since you refuse to work and pay your share, we had no other choice.”

“What do you mean? What choice?” I ask, slowly starting to panic.

“You’ll go with Mr. Mundo, he has a job for you where you’ll work for six months. You’ll get a room and food and the money goes to pay back all the debt you owe us.”

“Debt? What do I owe you?”

“Darling, you've been living and eating here for free for 18 years!”

“This is insane!” I yell at her. “You’re selling me? You are a monster!”

“Selling? It’s just temporary honey, and it’s a decent job, don’t make it sound worse than it is!”

“You can’t do that, I’m an adult, you can’t force me!” At this point I’m full on panicking. This can’t be happening, it should just be another nightmare. But I know it’s real. My nightmares are way different.

“You are right and nobody is forcing you. But think about this, it would give you the perfect opportunity to get some good job experiences while at the same time helping out your family! Also –” she adds “if you don’t take this offer then you’ll have to pack your bags, we can’t pay for you any longer.”

“If you stayed off the booze you could.” I press through my teeth, anger winning over panic.

She just ignores it and tells me “Please Honey, think about it. If you go with Mr. Mundo at least you’ll have a roof and food. We just want what’s best for you! You’ll thank us in a few years, mark my words.” With this she turns around and leaves me alone in the kitchen with this absolute hunk of a man.

“Go pack your stuff, we leave in an hour.” He hands me a big suitcase before sinking down onto the washed-out red leather couch in the living room, turning the TV on, unfazed by all of this as if it was his daily job. Which it probably was.

Still in shock, I go back to my room and just stare at the mirror for a solid minute. I still haven’t processed what just happened but I start throwing my most important stuff into the suitcase. I have a lot of clothes but most of them are from my parents and I hate wearing them. So it’s not too difficult to fit all my favorite pieces into the suitcase, some skinny jeans, flowy tops and hoodies and of course accessories, I can’t leave my choker collection here. Then I go to my bed and from under the mattress I pull my binder. I put it under all the other things so it won’t be visible if my mom checks my suitcase. She would freak out. I gather the rest of the stuff, making sure I have my laptop, makeup and favorite books, and check the time. I still have 15 minutes left but at this point, the quicker I’m gone the better. I grab the heavy suitcase and try to carry it down the stairs. Two steps in I nearly slip and the suitcase crashes onto the step with a loud Thud. Before I’m even up I can hear heavy steps on the stairs.

Mr. Mundo grabs the suitcase without saying a word and carries it down. I awkwardly follow him, hoping my mom is distracted and hasn’t noticed the commotion. For once I seem to be lucky, she’s nowhere to be seen. At the door, Mr. Mundo turns around and asks me “Are you sure that you have everything? You won’t be able to come back here anytime soon.”

“Yeah I’m not planning on doing that anyways. Can we go?” I ask impatiently.

He doesn’t answer and just opens the door and walks down the driveway towards the black car with darkened windows that is waiting at the end of it. He puts my suitcase in the back of it with ease and opens the door in the back, gesturing for me to get in. I hesitate for a second, but when I can hear the front door of the house open again, I quickly get in before I can hear whatever my mother wants to tell me. He slams the door behind me and gets into the driver’s seat, which I can’t even see from back here because there’s a divider between the front and the back of the car. Like in a limousine. Or a cop car. It feels more like the latter, like I’m a prisoner.

The car rumbles to life and even though the windows are heavily tinted, I can see the shadows of trees racing past us. Where are we going?

[glittiris]

The Barbie Movie

This weekend I got all glammed up to see the Barbie movie! Before I share my thoughts on the movie itself, I want to complain about the people who were in the theatre. There were two teens smacking their lips on their popcorn and being gross. Just because it’s dark and we all can’t see you, doesn’t mean we can’t hear you. Go home and practice chewing, you filthy animal. There was someone behind me kicking my seat throughout the movie and moving me around with their stupid feet or legs. I don’t care how tall you are, you need to learn how to control your limbs. You’re not a baby deer. Then there was some old hag saying “Yes, right. Yeah. Mmhm. Yes. Right” in agreement with what one of the characters in the movie was saying in a speech about womanhood. Who stars in this movie? Hmm..Yeah, right...Not you. So shut your mouth.

Basically, all versions of Barbie and Ken live in Barbieland which is a “perfect” world where the women have all the power and men are an afterthought. One day, Barbie starts experiencing human feelings, functions and starts questioning her reality because someone in the real world who is miserable starts playing with her and these feelings from the human are affecting Barbie. Barbie and Ken go on an adventure to the real world to find this human so that Barbie can go back to her perfect life, but while in the real world Ken discovers the patriarchy and Barbie discovers that the Barbie doll line hasn’t made the real world a “perfect” society run by women like she thought it did. Ken then goes back to Barbieland and changes things so that Barbieland is now run by the male dolls, Barbies are slutty accessories to the Kens and are pushed out of all the jobs/roles they had prior to Kens taking over. Then Barbie and the miserable human work together to return Barbieland back to normal which is obviously successful, and Barbie decides she wants to become human because she feels she doesn’t belong anywhere in Barbieland. The end. 

There are a million things to discuss about this movie and I don’t know where to begin. I have a lot of thoughts. Before the movie even came out, people were worried that it would be a Boys vs. Girls plot and that it would be a bad thing. Well, it was part of the plot and I personally believe it was well done. Although all the male characters are idiots, the plot isn’t “girls rule boys drool” and if that’s all you took from the movie, you’re weird. If you watched the Barbie movie and you think it’s brainwashing people into wanting the world to be run by women only, you’re weird and need to chill out. 

One thing I had in mind while watching the film was the controversy surrounding some trans women demanding to be allowed into women’s sports. The reason I thought about this was because it’s males infiltrating a space specifically made for females, which is what happened in the movie. Barbieland is a space intended for women and the Ken dolls force themselves on top in that space that isn’t intended for them. It felt very similar to what happens when people are too scared to say no to transgender people. Trans women are born male and expect to be allowed into female only spaces like waxing salons and sports. The movie has nothing to do with transness, but it just reminded me of how males just find every way to make something for women for them too. 

I also thought it was interesting that the inventor of Barbie in the movie said that nobody looks like Barbie and that she herself is just a “5’7 woman with a double hysterectomy.” I understand why having a diverse cast of Barbies is important, but I think it’s bizarre that people are still so uncomfortable with the main Barbie being a thin, white, blonde, blue-eyed, fashionable woman. Barbie is a canvas and not intended to physically represent women as a whole or what women should be on the outside. She represents what women are capable of. It’s like when people get angry that fantasy characters in video games never look like them. The whole point is to play as someone or something that isn’t you. The character is their own person and if you want to play a game with a character that looks like you, play a game with a character customization screen. Same thing with Barbie. She is herself; you are you. None of the Barbies look like me and I’ve never cared about that because it’s just a doll. I just thought she was a pretty doll. I think it’s wonderful that there’s more skin tones for Barbie, but no matter how many different Barbies they make, there will never be one that looks like you. 

I enjoyed the movie. It was very thought provoking and funny. I can’t stop saying “mojo dojo casa house.” Ryan Gosling is sooo fine. If Barbie doesn’t want him, I’ll take him. Pass me that slice of hot man ass.  

[dead-not-done]

purely self indulgent but,,,, i did a very quick thing in the sims

meet my fake evajacks kids! left to right starting on the top row they’re: ambrose (he/him), twins leander (they/them) & liana (she/her), dorian (he/him), merrick (he/him), and rosalina (she/her)!

im gonna be honest i dont really think they’d actually have six kids but consider: jacks corralling a bunch of little kids in the hollow is a fantastic image and evangeline would be such a good mom. also yes ambrose and merrick are nearly identical but i didn’t realize that until i was like mostly finished and i dont feel like going back lol

see below the cut for a couple sentences about what i came up for their personalities :) they also have outfits and i made evajacks in the sims, so if anybody wants to see either of those things just let me know lol

Ambrose is super energetic and a total people person. While Jacks and Evangeline raised their kids in the Hollow, he was always the most eager to get out into the world and meet new people. He’s incredibly confident, reading as cocky sometimes, and optimistic. Think golden retriever jock type.  

Leander is more of a loner, but they’re extremely loyal - particularly towards their twin, Liana. Leander is content to curl up in their father’s library and read for hours on end without even realizing the time had passed. Most of the time Liana is the one dragging them into public. They’re a total mama’s kid. 

Liana is a total romantic and incredibly affectionate. She’s somewhat insecure and seeks a lot of reassurance from those around her, despite her parents’ very attentive parenting style. She loves to bake and tends to just pass out treats to people when she sees them, she enjoys the fact that the person she’s given them to has tangible proof of how much she cares for them. She’s super sweet, the kind of person that nobody really dislikes. 

Dorian can come off as a bit standoffish because he is very anti-social. He’s the most like Jacks out of all the kids, doesn’t like to interact with a person unless it’s really necessary. He’ll hem and haw about spending time with his family (particularly Ambrose) but he loves them deeply, and his love language is acts of service so it’s not rare to find that he’s fixed some problem one of them may have had without ever saying anything. 

Merrick is an artist, and he’s sort of the stereotype of an eccentric artist. His brain moves at a million miles hours, constantly jumping from one subject to the next, total stream-of-consciousness style of speech so he’s just going, like, all the time. He’ll hole himself up in his own art studio for days at a time though, then come out with an absolute masterpiece. He loves his family but he’s usually the first to disappear from gatherings with everyone - he can tend to be a lot, and competing with everyone’s energy to be heard gets draining really quickly. 

Rosalina is the youngest and while she’s definitely spoiled, she’s not a brat or whiny or anything. She is really feminine, she never leaves the house without looking her best and her whole wardrobe is dresses and skirts. She’s sort of quiet, but she’s really friendly and has a small but close group of friends. She loves to be around her family but more as a passive observer, she enjoys people watching and there are a few big personalities in her family that she likes to watch.

[caendtowntrash]

More Marx? (Annoyed Groan)

It’s another one of these! Spoilers for the January Endtown Update just as a forewarning.

In my other Marx rant I went over a good amount of Marx but I feel the newest updates to Endtown really drive it home how horrific Marx is and how damaging his presence is on this story and how cruel a god entity he is just via context alone. I think I need to appropriately break it down so people can really grasp this with both hands rather than be dazzled by fancy art and faded memory.

More under the cut!

Marx is basically the creator, the author if you will, of the Endtown world. He chooses worlds which are slotted for destruction and manipulates the circumstances within them to seed a new sandbox for him to play around in. Multiple sandboxes even!

During the Ship Arc it’s revealed that the parallel worlds to Endtown’s world are dead. Nobody survives the apocalypse, which typically is caused by resource squabbling. Marx, horrible god that he is, sets up Endtowns in these worlds that shelter and preserve humanity which we see during the post-mortem Flask epilogue and again in Holly’s flashback where she and Doc Chase are sent to Endtown. He also gives Apex (Topsiders) means to survive the resultant Armageddon as well as evidenced by Amesworth’s Exposition segment of the Eden Arc:

Marx left his ‘clue’ about what was happening to the world and tampered with the biosuit’s plastics which allowed the Topsiders to persist when they would have all transformed or perished. This makes him responsible for the Topsider’s existence and their genocidal rampage on the mutated (grexed) humans. Now the cause of the mutations were revealed to be due to some thinning of reality’s walls which allow a completely unrelated universe, not parallel but cosmologically distant to this one, collide and infect it in a way where people turn into cartoon animals. This may, perhaps, be seen as a kind of accident if you are so inclined to believe so. Like a boulder crushing a sparrow’s nest it’s an act of nature the occupants never would have foresaw or anticipated until doom was upon them. But what if I told you that there was a man who pushed the boulder in the first place? Enter a brief but incredibly damning comment made by Dr. Amesworth in a quiet aside during the Exposition segment:

Isn’t this a really curious thing for her to say? Almost as if Marx chose the nature of what the universe collision was. Which, if you think about it, might be actually true. Marx has been shown to accomplish anything and has not faced something that actually stands as a challenge to his skills or will and expresses nothing but fawning adoration for Cardoodles. We have from his own admission that he’s been manipulating Wally’s ‘story’ to serve the purpose of feeding him to Eye and ultimately combining his soul with Cracked Cat and that he’s done this countless times. He’s admitted in this most recent update that he’s watched or been aware of Duffy committing suicide ‘8 million times’ but only now supposedly thought to stop him. And why?

Marx seems to have this happen where his outreach for characters not named Wally are curious larks rather than anything in his rigid five billion step plan to whatever endgoal he’s looking for with his sandbox. This happened much earlier for Flask too.

And in fact ONLY seems to happen when he’s ‘curious’ if that really is earnest and not another lie to get the circumstances of what he wants to happen, happen. He’s a master manipulator after all, privy to countless permutations of how a situation will go and pulling the strings accordingly. He doesn’t save Holly because the Ship reveals what her ‘deal’ was and deems her too fundamentally broken to fix (even though there could be opportunities to fix her, I feel like Marx cared more about Holly fixing Wally and getting him out of Endtown rather than Holly’s own wellbeing and orchestrated Milk Trial to break her fundamentally). He doesn’t save Walt because he knows exactly what happened with Walt, there’s no mystery to his actions because it’s a perfectly understood progression. How tragic but not anything he has to deal with, people die every day! And he doesn’t save Heather because, uhmmm...

He just doesn’t okay????????????? Endtown’s served its purpose! Who cares about the innocent people left behind in there, it’s fine and dandy to pull some parlor tricks like making your eyes bleed to scare the fascist you put in office or make a sad pose as Walt disappears from existence, maybe the audience will forget you’re actually the reason this all happened and give you a pass for not intervening when you did it for Wally and now Duffy. If the characters are not serving Cracked Cat’s ascension then they’re disposable. It might be neat to see what new thing can twist the story around for Marx’s point of view but each ‘tweak’ is fundamentally not important to his main goal. If something affects the main goal, like Holly, he’d gladly throw them in the garbage. And he has every right to do this in his eyes. Why? Because he made the world. Everyone’s lives were forfeit to his whims the second he ‘saved’ them from an apocalypse. Nobody in Endtown is supposed to be alive, absolutely nobody. So if this world was supposed to die he can do anything to it, can’t he? He can cross a cartoon universe over the one he’s chosen, make the inhabitants change into cartoons. Why? How else can he make the Cracked Cat he wants to see?

[troglobite]

i’m trying to unpack why it makes me immediately furious to hear my mom groaning or whining in pain

two events have recently caused that, one happening rn

this past week she got her bivalent booster (bc she finally could after having covid a few months ago) 

i was absolutely happy to help and do whatever she needed, and i said as much multiple times. just text me if you need help.

she asked me directly for help maybe twice in 3 days. every other thing she just suffered alone in her room, or got up to do things that hurt her. 

that makes me mad. i’m sick of her needlessly hurting herself for some stupid fucking bullshit that either doesn’t matter or that i could do instead. 

every year she sends out these fucking holiday packages to friends, family, and coworkers. it’s not fun for her at all. she doesn’t enjoy it. she spends so much money ordering the same gifts each year. she goes through the hassle of personalizing each package (there are over 20). then she pays for postage and shipping. 

and she did it while her body hurt from the booster this week and i’m just like. WHY. if your back is killing you, you’re tired, like WHY?!

she “had” to get them done so they arrived by christmas for most ppl.

and again, WHY?! these are not incredible one of a kind gifts. it’s the same shit she gives every year. and i’m sure some of them arrived later than christmas before. like. WHY?!

if someone i knew typically sent something out each year and i didn’t get it one year, i’d check in w them and see how they were doing. i wouldn’t give a single fucking shit if their little annual gift to me didn’t arrive. 

but no, my mom has to bend over backwards and get this shit done bc?????? Reasons. 

and right now she’s doing my least favorite thing of hers. 

so cardboard boxes have been piling up in the hallway (bc this house is small and fucking sucks) and there’s not much room in the garage but in order to put them in our recycling, they have to be broken down. i can’t do it bc the sound and texture of cardboard makes me want to fucking perish. so she unfortunately has to do it. but she doesn’t want to. bc it’s time and energy consuming. i have said that i could help, but i would need to wear my headphones and some gloves. 

well. 

today she was going to go pick up some new end tables she ordered. 

her lifelong friend who moved here last year to be closer to us (and away from ohio) was going to go with her to pick them up. i don’t really know why it wasn’t an option for me to go and help? but it just wasn’t, i guess. 

but now she’s been spending the last three or four hours cleaning the entire house and moving the boxes into the garage and just cleaning EVERYTHING.

bc her lifelong friend who has seen her through both of their own messy relationships and divorces and a million other things is going to be inside our house. for. 15 minutes???

so she’s wheezing and huffing and puffing and agitated and running around and just in a fucking frenzy.

WHY?!!?!?!

SHE’S KNOWN YOU FOR LIKE 45 FUCKING YEARS.

SHE DOESN’T FUCKING CARE STOP DOING THIS

and she becomes INTOLERABLE when she’s like this and doing this. 

i’m hungry. i have been awake for 1.5 hrs. i missed my 15 minute window to get food while she was in the shower.

i offered to open the garage door for her while she moves boxes around.

she just said it would be “too hard” so she’s INSISTING she do it on her own.

she just made some of the worst fucking noises in the hallway outside my room rn. boxes scraping. all this shit. and there she goes, wheezing and huffing and puffing.

but god forbid she ask for help 

but mainly forbid SHE JUST NOT DO THIS FUCKING SHIT BECAUSE WHO ACTUALLY FUCKING CARES?!! NOBODY!!!!!! NOBODY GIVES A SINGLE FUCKING SHIT!!!!!!!!!!

i SHOWED her that gayle video “company’s coming over” YEARS ago. she laughed like haha that’s me. 

and i’m like

yeah, it is.

and it makes no sense

this isn’t even an exaggeration 

she’s going to fold all of the blankets on the couch that we use every day and move the pillows all around

“WE CAN’T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE SIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!” but LITERALLY in REAL LIFE. THAT IS WHAT SHE DOES.

i’m so tired of seeing a million reasons she needs to go to therapy (this is so far down the list and only related to a few things at the top of the list) and not being able to say or suggest anything bc she’ll see it as an insult.

which is super kind to me, a person who has been in therapy off and on since i was like 9 years old. 

i went to sleep early last night bc i was so exhausted. i slept forever. i woke up 1.5-2 hrs earlier than i have been. i was feeling good.

and ever since i’ve woken up she’s just been doing this fucking useless completely unnecessary and EXTREMELY FUCKING LOUD AND IRRITATING bullshit, and i haven’t been able to do anything.

and then i got up to check and i have to send out like 35 more emails for the job she gave me that, again, I DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO DO IN THE FIRST PLACE, bc nobody else has responded since i sent the emails on tuesday and wednesday. and i need to DOUBLE the responses i’ve gotten. 8 ppl for this one campaign from over 40 emails that i sent. so i need to send 30-40 MORE emails. i’m just. 

and i can’t do that.

bc if i TRIED rn, i would be HUNGRY bc i haven’t been able to get ANY FOOD YET bc she has been NEEDLESSLY CLEANING THE FUCKING KITCHEN

AND i wouldn’t be able to focus AT FUCKING ALL bc even with my noise canceling headphones on, I WOULD STILL BE ABLE TO FUCKING HEAR HER. 

i’m just so fucking tired

i HATE having these family friends over PURELY BECAUSE IT MEANS MY MOM JUST LOSES HER ENTIRE GRIP ON REALITY FOR MULTIPLE HOURS AND I HAVE TO SUFFER THROUGH IT BC SHE WON’T EVEN LET ME HELP IN ANY WAY

it’s so fucking stupid and i hate this

[chiefguideandcentre]

I want to be a one hit wonder- sing a catchy song, write a great book, find a great acting role- doesn’t matter

Bust in, blow minds, make millions, peace out

Being a one hit wonder- one and done- that’s the dream baby

[thatbadadvice]

Help! I Am Experiencing The Highly Predictable and Eminently Logical Consequences of My Decision Not To Get Vaccinated And People Are Acting Like It's All My Fault!

Ask APW, A Practical Wedding, 20 August 2021:

My best friend is getting married outside of the US. I am her only bridesmaid/maid of honor and we have been best friends for 15+ years. Because of covid, things have been rocky. I have not been vaccinated. She has. The border is only letting vaccinated US citizens in. Therefore I cannot go. She basically hates me because I won’t get vaccinated. I’ve tried to explain my reasoning, but she honestly doesn’t care and has tunnel vision for the pro-vax. I feel like I am losing my best friend because of this. I plan on scheduling a photo shoot for us in her wedding dress and me in my bridesmaid’s dress for when she returns. I’m just not sure what else to do.

Dear (Former) Maid Of Honor,

It's reportedly been a rough 18 months, hasn't it? You see just hundreds and thousands of news reports — who knows if you can believe them! — about a "global pandemic" killing "millions" of people, supposedly over 700,000 people in the United States alone, but it's a little hard to square that with your personal gut feeling that COVID is just not that big of a deal! So it's really hard to know who to trust right now — on the one hand, we have near-universal agreement from medical experts and professional and governmental entities from around the globe that deadly COVID can largely be prevented with a very safe vaccine that is accessible widely in the United States, but on the other hand, this email forward from your brother-in-law's buddy says that mainlining a horse dewormer is the only way to protect yourself from the worldwide vaccine cabal! (And by the way, have you invested in the gold standard? Just something to think about, no pressure to buy now!)

Your bestie is honestly being a pretty big baby about not wanting to subject herself or others to a likely carrier of a deadly disease, or at least, that's probably what doctors and other sheeple would say. Some people, sadly your bestie included, get all het up about "the best medical science and knowledge available," and totally ignore the grainy meme their best friend saw on Facebook. And to top it off, she's letting this so-called peer-reviewed research that shows vaccines prevent serious COVID in the vast, vast majority of cases dictate the way she hosts a sizable group gathering of potential carriers and victims and everyone they know or even interact with? Come on! Talk about tunnel vision blocking out what really matters — having a party with you at it!

You made the free and full decision not to get vaccinated and that is simply not your fault, and you should not be held responsible for making this decision just because it's a decision you made on purpose, based on your own judgment, as a result of something you wanted specifically to do. What's more, your best friend, of all people, shouldn't try to make it your fault by having a destination wedding in a country that sounds like it is also going out of its way to oppress you personally by asserting some kind of sovereign right to govern itself. No one here is looking at the big picture, except for you — which means you're the only one seeing and standing up to the mass global vaccine conspiracy, engineered by hundreds and maybe even thousands of evil masterminds across time and geography and politics. Come to think of it, it sort of sounds like your best friend might be in on it. Why else would she decline to put herself and her loved ones at risk of contracting a dangerous virus? What other reasons could she possibly have to conduct her own fucking wedding on her own fucking terms, if not because she hates you personally for being so smart and free? She's being manipulated by the jab squad! This has deliberately engineered, decades-old pro-vax scheme written all over it!

Regardless of whether your best friend has been brainwashed by a vast and wide-ranging medical conspiracy, the bottom line is this: choosing not to get vaccinated is your personal choice, and nobody else has the right to make any choices related to your decision, because that would be a violation of your freedoms. Everybody has to like everything you do, and if they don't cheerily accept and accommodate your refusal to do one easy and free thing to keep yourself and the people around you healthy and safe, they're selfish, short-sighted assholes who hate you personally. There is literally no other reason not to want to travel internationally with and spend time in close quarters beside a willfully unvaccinated adult in the year 2021. (The photo shoot is a super cute idea, BTW — out of an abundance of caution, you might want to check on your local ICU's visitation rules before booking the photographer.)

[erodasfishtacos]

*CHICAGO*

i write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is today!!!!!!! 🎂)

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it!

——

The public didn’t know that some of the pictures that are posted of Harry that are tagged and credited to the on tour photographers were actually taken by his wife.

For example, after Chicago, the picture of Harry in the tub - completely bare and worn down from his show, you actually think the photographer took that?

No, that was snapped with YN’s iPhone, like some of the other pictures he’s posted.

Just like the one where he’s asleep on the hotel bed in a robe in Paris with all of his stuff splayed around him - allegedly taken by helene. ***

But no, it had been his wife, they had just taken a shower together and she had stayed in for a bit longer to shave her legs - when she had come out and seen him passed out.

She had to tug a bit at the robe so he wasn’t exposed and make it x-rated, then she pulled out her phone and snapped the picture - sending it to Jeff with a teasing caption.

yn: It’s exhausting being a popstar

And just like that, it appears on his Instagram for fans to go crazy over.

Or what about the snapshot of his tank that had his famous slogan embroidered into the side of the white fabric. ***

His wedding band reflecting in the flash of the light, a subtle glance at his rippled muscle below the attire as they work on his hair.

“Mm, I’m gonna save this for a lonely night,” YN jokes as she tucks her phone away.

Harry’s hand comes to cup her jaw, looking down at her where she’s sat on the floor, “Y’so fuckin’ pretty, y’know that?”

YN’s eyelids flutter a bit as she glances away from his intense gazes - he still gives her butterflies.

“Don’t get shy on me, baby. Can I not tell m’wife how gorgeous she is?” He asks, bring her hand up to kiss the back of it, “Look s’good with tha’ ring on.”

And the one that made fans go crazy.

On a warm evening, in a hotel room between venues in Italy, where they had been lounging around all day.

YN in just a thin gauzy dress that accentuated the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra and Harry just in the trousers he’d worn to get them coffee earlier that morning.

“You just took a picture of me! It’s my turn,” YN giggles, getting on her knees on the old squeaky couch and snatching the camera off of him.

“I took a picture because y’tits look nice in tha’ dress. I can see y’nipples and it’s turnin’ me on,” Harry defends, holding up his book as she snaps it.

“H, c’mon,” She pouts but squeaks when Harry tugs her into him, dropping the book and the camera as he adjusts her on his lap.

“Gonna let me take a picture of y’all nice and fucked out, darling?” He rasps, ignoring her pout and hiking her dress up her hips.

And it’s happened throughout the years, so many pictures that were littered over the internet where just uncredited snapshots from YN.

Just like the one from 2013, they were on tour, and Harry was supposed to be recording for the next album after soundcheck and before the concert. ***

Instead, after soundcheck, Harry and YN had snuck off to a little meadow and lake to have a swim. He had shimmied down to his briefs and waded in.

YN stood back, snapping a picture of him and his friend as the complained about how freezing cold it was.

“Baby, c’mon. Come get in!” Harry had shouted back to his girlfriend on the dry land, “I need some warmth, s’freezing!”

YN grimaces, just in Harry’s shirt and a pair of yoga shorts, dipping her toe in and shaking her head - “I’ll enjoy from here!”

“Please, bug,” He pouts, motioning for her to come in.

She does after a moment, squealing at the temperature before quickly finding her way into Harry’s arms.

“Only have fun on tour when y’with me,” He had murmured into her ear before he dunked her underwater and they play fought until their stomachs hurt from laughing.

And then came the notorious picture that had gotten a million likes in thirteen minutes, oh, the chicago ice bath.

Harry had been achey since tour had begun, constantly complaining about his back and ankles from the shows.

“Baby, just rub m’back a lil’ longer please?” He had whimpered the night before, the tour bus bed did not help him much at all.

When his trainer had recommended an ice bath immediately after the show - YN had made sure to arrange it despite his protests.

After exiting the stage in his black and lilac outfit, he’d been lured into the bathroom with a promise of sex but instead was a steel tub filled with ice water.

Jeff, Lambert, Tommy - everyone was watching on in amusement as he adamantly tried to deny that it would help and the peer pressure wasn’t make him anymore convinced.

“Alright, everyone out,” YN had finally tittered, shooing out the circus before closing the door for privacy.

She helps strip her husband out of his close as he looks at her reproachfully, “You promised me sex.”

“After,” YN assures him, kissing his puffy lips and asking softly, “Just try it, if it doesn’t work - you don’t have to do it again.”

He grumbles a bit, muttering, “Don’t look at m’bits, they’re gonna shrivel up.”

YN giggles, “As if I haven’t seen your bits in every shape and form.”

As he slips in, YN has to snap a picture of his eyes wide and lips pursed at the shock of the freezing water cooling down his hot, sticky skin.

“Holy fucking shit,” Harry hisses, lowering self until he’s sat - his nipples instantly hardening and he’s breathing roughly out of his nose.

“Five minutes, I’ll set the timer,” YN says, setting it on her phone before sitting down next to the tub as he tries to relax.

“Baby, fuck. Reminds me of that really cold lake in Boston, ‘member?” He squeezes his eyes shut and reaches until YN intertwines their hands.

“Yeah, that wasn’t as cold as that one time you convince me to skinny dip with you on the coast of france.”

“Oh yeah, that one was really fucking cold too,” Harry murmurs, keeping his eyes closed and steadying his breathing.

(During WWA tour - ***)

“Harry, are you insane? Anyone could see us? Paul could walk out or the boys. I’m not-“

She’s cut off when Harry shucks off his swimsuit bottoms, his skin’s glowing in the moonlight and the light waves lapping at the shore are soothing.

YN swallows harshly, tries not to stare at how handsome and overwhelming beautiful he is as he turns to step towards the water.

She looks over her shoulder nervously before stepping out of her one-piece, he waits for her at the shoreline.

“Y’so so stunnin’,” Harry tells her, thumbing at the soft curve of her breast and leaning in for a soft kiss when he feed her shake.

“You could have anyone,” YN whispers against his lips, “Every girl on this earth wants you like this. I’m just some girl from before all this,” she motions to the extravagant bungalow they’re staying at.

“I don’t know why y’think tha’s bad. I want t’experience all this with you, m’first love and m’only love. I’m going to marry y’soon, you know tha’?” He replies, lips tracing the curve of her neck.

“You better,” She giggles, hands going to his shoulder as he sucks a mark into the thin skin.

He pulls back with a frown, “M’not jokin’, I don’t care that we’re young - M’gonna do it.”

“I can’t wait,” YN kisses his jutted out lip, squealing when he tugs her into the water and the chilled waves crash against her hips, “H, it’s so cold.”

“M’gonna keep y’warm, hush up,” He titters, pulling her into his chest until her breasts are smushed against his strong pecs and his arms are around her shoulder, “Love experiencing this w’you, everythin’ w’you.”

-

YN is brought back from her daydream by her husband wiping his finger under her eyelid, “Darling, wha’ is it?”

She hadn’t realized she had teared up thinking of the fond memory, “I want to go back to that bungalow. We had such a good time. I…I just love you.”

His wife chuckles like she’s pathetic for crying about it but he leans out of the tub, cupping her jaw and pulling her in for a hard kiss.

“Don’t be embarrassed, flower,” There was no teasing in his voice, it was sincere, “If anyone should be embarrassed - I’m the one who travels around the world t’sing love songs ‘bout you.”

Their lips join again, his tongue finding its way into her mouth when Jeff, Lambert, and Tommy barge through the door.

“Jesus Christ, only you could be trying to get some while sat in an ice bath,” Jeff scoffs with a smile but instantly knows they’ve fucked up.

“Get out, the fuck?” Harry sits up, “Don’t interrupt me and m’wife. Get out!”

They stumble out and just then the alarm goes off.

YN helps him out, tucking him into a towel and helping him dry off - his head tucked into her neck and hand on her belly - massaging.

“Do you feel any better?” She hums while getting some stray droplets on the nape of his neck as he nuzzles into her warm skin.

“Mm,” He agrees drowsily, hand slipping under her shirt for more heat and she jumps at his icey touch, “Want t’sleep.”

And when they get to the hotel, YN logs onto his Instagram and uploads the ice bath pictures with nobody knowing the story behind it.

-

Hope you enjoyed!

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[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

[moonxbabe]

vinnie hacker smut - for the first time - part 4 -

hi readers - so this little story has come to an end, this is the last part of ‘for the first time’, thank you to the anon who requested it, I really enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoyed reading it :) 

warning: smut 18+

part 1

part 2

part 3

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

2 weeks later

Vinnie had called, texted and sent flowers basically every day since the pool party trying to get any response back from you but you hadn't given in. You had been sulking in your room most days not having motivation to do much even though you had classes and work you needed to get done. 

You deleted all social media since the incident because you couldn't handle seeing it all anymore. The hate, the comments, the updates. It made you sick with anxiety and self-hatred. It felt like nobody was on your side.

The worst part of it all was that you missed him. You missed him so much it hurt. His touch, his smell, his laugh. Everything about him. You felt like part of you was ripped away. Everyday you are tempted to respond back to his texts or answer his calls, but the thoughts linger and fear gets the best out of you. 

You sigh re-reading the latest text he sent earlier that morning saying:

Vinnie: Good morning beautiful, I hope you have a good day. I think about you every moment. I miss you so much, I will never give up on us. 

Your eyes fill with tears as you press the phone to your chest holding it tight. You lay back down in your bed holding back the tears because you're too tired of crying. You drift off into a nap. 

You jump up awake hearing someone knock at your door. You grab your phone looking at the time reading 7:21pm realizing you slept through most of the day. You groan softly, getting up and looking around for a pair of shorts to slip on, not in the mood for guests. 

Nailea showed up a few times to check in on you as well as your forever best friend even though you told them you were fine a million times. They knew the truth.

“Nai if it's you I already told you I’m fi--” you open the door to see Vinnie standing there. You look at him, speechless.

“Hi,” He says quietly, giving you a tight smile. He was hoping and praying you wouldn't slam the door in his face. 

“Hi,” you looked at him unsure of what to do or say. You frowned a little, noticing he looked a little skinnier than the last time you saw him and it seemed he hadn't shaved in a while which was really unlike him. You crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably glancing down realizing you were wearing his t-shirt before looking back at him. 

“Can I come in? Please.” He studies you for a moment, his face soft and his words pleading. 

“Why,” you say quietly.

“Because I miss you,” He hesitates, “and this is killing me,” He places his hand on the door frame waiting for a response. You sigh and move to the side letting him in, not saying a word. 

“How have you been?” He breaks the lingering silence staring at you, you glance up at him before looking down once more. 

“Fine,” you slightly shrug, rubbing your right arm with your left nervously. 

“I’ve just been really worried, you haven't returned any of my calls or texts,” He sighed, taking a few small steps closer to you, you didn't move. “I know Nai’s been over so I asked her but she wouldn't say much,” 

“I mean there's not much to say,” you said in a quiet tone. 

“I know you're hurt and upset and hate me right now, but is there any way we could work this out? I can't just let go and forget y/n,” He swallowed hard holding back tears. 

“I don't hate you,” you sigh “I could never hate you,” 

“I'm glad to hear that,” He said calmly and took a few more steps now standing in front of you, you still looked down scared to make eye contact with him. 

“Hey,” He used his fingers to lift your chin to look at him, your eyes falling into his. You held back tears as his honey colored eyes brought back all your shared memories. 

“Please don't cry,” He slightly frowned as he could see your eyes tear up, you pressed your lips together and nodded. 

“I'm sorry,” You said quietly, soaking in the moment. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” He whispered, letting go of your chin and using the back of his index finger to gently brush your cheek, you closed your eyes for a moment letting him, enjoying the feeling. He presses his forehead against yours as your noses brush against one another.

“I’ve missed you too,” You whisper back as your eyes flutter open, a small smile appearing on his face. He gently places his hand on your waist pulling you a little closer. 

“Can I hug you?” He says and you hesitate but nod. You wanted nothing more than to hug him, to feel him against you. He pulls you in, hugging you tightly as you hug him back resting your head on his chest. 

“These two weeks have been the worst two weeks of my life,” He says quietly, not letting you go. You slightly smile to yourself at his words because you felt the same way. 

“Vin,” you say after a few moments of silence.

“Hm?” He pulls away a little to look at you. 

“This doesn't mean we can just go back to how things were,” you said as he slightly frowned “I missed you and love you yes, but that doesn't change anything, it doesn't change what happened or what will continue to happen” you slowly let him go “I don't want to be put in that situation anymore,” 

“I know, I know,” He sighed and nodded, “I wouldn't put you in it either, I just wish I could protect you from it all,” He groaned frustrated “I hate how everyone can be happy and in relationships, but it's not the same for me,” 

“They just hate me,” you look down trying to keep your emotions together. 

“Well I love you, and I dont give a fuck what anyone else thinks or says,” He places his hand on your cheek stroking it softly with your thumb. You meet his eyes once more and attempt a smile as you try to hold back tears once more. 

“Hey hey, dont,” He frowns and leans in to kiss your forehead holding your face. You hug his body tightly once more letting your tears fall, you had been waiting for this moment, to be able to hold him and for him to comfort you. He was the only one you wanted to see this whole time to make it feel better, but every fiber in you pushed him away. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just-- they said awful things, Vin, and I believed them,” you broke down into his chest as he hugged your body and rubbed your back. “They always say things about me or to me, I don't know why and I try my best to ignore, I just don't get it,” you sobbed. 

“I know baby, I know, I'm so sorry,” He sighed, holding you so tightly, scared you'd slip away. 

“I don't know how you can do it,” you tried to calm down but just being with him after being away from him for so long made it difficult. 

“Even if I need to delete all my social media and just focus on us, on you. I would do it. I don't care,” He pulled away to look at you, you shook your head.

“I could never ask you to do that Vin, it's your life,” you wipes some falling tears.

“For you I’d do it.” He moves his hand to stroke your cheek softly with his thumb wiping away your tears. 

“I don't want you to,” you sniff  “I just think if we see each other it should be in private so no one will know,” 

“So like sneak around?” his face was a bit disappointed. 

“Mhm, I feel like that would be best” you hug him once more placing your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat. 

“But what if I want to take you out? Like on a date or we just want to get food and hang out,” he sighs, hugging you tightly, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“We’ll just need to figure it out in a way no one will know,” you look up at him still hugging me. 

“I mean I guess, if this is the only way,” his voice frustrated. 

“Just for a little while Vin,” you pull away from him, your hand falling into his as your fingers hold on to one another. He smiles as you two stay quiet for a moment. 

“I know it's been a little while, but um-- do you think I could stay with you here and spend the night?” His fingers still linger in yours as he watches you.

“I’d love you to,” you smile at him and get closer leaning your head up for a kiss. He smiles and kisses you softly, placing his hands on your waist. 

“I love you so much,” he pulls away to whisper against your lips, he uses one hand to move a strand of hair falling on your face tucking it behind your ear. “The thought of not being close to you or losing you drives me crazy,” 

“Don't think about that,” you slightly frown. “I’m right here,” you slightly grip at the front of his shirt and he gives you a small smile. 

“I know,” He sighs and kisses your forehead “I'm just scared I guess,” he shakes his head “Let's get you to bed?”

“I'm not really tired, I should probably hop in the shower though” you look up at him. “Would you uh want to join me?” you ask nervously, that was something you both never done.

“More than anything,” he smiles and nods. He takes your hand leading you to the bathroom and turns on the shower. You lean against the sink and watch him smiling to yourself at his excitement. 

“Come here,” He turns around to look at you as you make your way to him, he takes your shirt pulling it off of you gently as you slowly take off your shorts and underwear. He watches you in awe as you step out of the clothing. You hug yourself at the sudden lack of clothing before looking up at him catching him watching you.

“What?” You slightly smile.

“Nothing, you're just beautiful,” He leans in to place his hand on your cheek before kissing you softly, you blush kissing him back. You pull away and get into the shower waiting for him as you close your eyes and stand under the steaming water. He takes off his clothes and gets in, placing his hands on your waist. You open your eyes and smile at him as you run your hands through your wet hair. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” He says softly, pulling you towards him. 

“I missed you too, a lot,” You place your hands on his damp chest running them up and down before wrapping them around his neck. He leans down to kiss you deeply as his arms wrap around your waist. 

“You haven't been shaving,” you pull away from the kiss saying quietly. 

“I know,” He sighs “I definitely need to though,” 

You lean in to kiss his cheek feeling guilty because you know when he doesn't shave he's usually in a depressive episode.

“Does it bother you?” He searches your face for an answer. 

“Vin, of course not,” you slightly frown, kissing him softly once more. “I just know it's unlike you,” You sigh. 

“I’ll shave tomorrow, I promise,” he gives you a reassuring smile.

“Now let me shower,” you laugh softly, letting him go waiting for him to unwrap his arms. He fake pouts and lets you go as he then grabs the shampoo before you. 

“Let me,” He pours some in his hand waiting for you to turn around as you playfully roll your eyes but do so. He massages the shampoo into your hair as you close your eyes enjoying the moment. He puts his hands on your waist once more leading you under the water to rinse as you do so before turning around to smile at him.

“Your turn,” You grab the shampoo, putting it in your hand as you reach up to wash his golden brown hair running your fingers through it. He lightly bites his lower lip at the feeling and watches you, pulling you towards him once again. 

“Rinse,” You smile at him as he turns you both around so now he's under the water as you reach up to help get the shampoo out. 

He leans down to kiss you deeply, wrapping his arms around you once more as you smile and kiss him back, your chests pressed up against one another. He groans softly before slowly lifting you up as you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He holds you up against the wall by your thighs giving them a slight squeeze. You slowly slide your tongue across his bottom lip asking for entrance as he allows letting your tongues meet one another causing you to moan. You can feel him growing hard against you as you move one hand to softly grip his hair. 

He begins to kiss down your jawline to your neck as you attempt to catch your breath and bite your lower lip at the feeling as he finds a spot to suck on. 

“Vin,” you groan softly gripping his hair once more as he sucks and bites at that spot leaving a hickey before moving to the other side of your neck. He peppers kisses all over as you lean your head back against the shower at the sweet feeling. He leans you back so he can kiss down your breasts before taking one in your mouth massaging it slowly with his tongue. 

“Fuck,” you moan at the feeling holding his head in place as he moves on to the other giving it the same treatment. He lets go of your thighs and tapes one thigh to unwrap your legs. 

“I want to make you feel good,” He whispers as he gets down on his knees kissing your stomach softly before lifting one of your legs over his shoulder giving him access to your heat. You bite your lip in anticipation as you steady yourself watching him growing wetter by the second. He leans in and slides his tongue from top to bottom causing you to gasp and grip his hair. His tongue finds its way to your clit as he begins to suck at it letting his tongue massage it. 

“Oh my- Vinnie,” you moan loudly as your legs slightly shake, your head leaned back against the shower wall as your eyes roll back in pleasure. Your hand not leaving his hair as his tongue continues back down to thrust itself in and out. After a few seconds he replaces his tongue with two fingers thrusting him quickly in and out of you as he lets his tongue trail back to your clit to suck and play with it. 

“I-Im so close,” your legs shake even more as he curls his fingers to find your g-spot.

“Cum for me baby,” he groans softly as he feels your walls clench around his fingers. 

“Vin,” you moan loudly as you grip his shoulders trying to steady yourself as your climax takes over. You almost slide down the wall but Vinnie quickly grabs you holding you up kissing you softly. 

“You okay?” He whispers softly letting you come down from your high. You nod, giving him a smile leaning your head into his chest. 

“My good girl,” He kisses the top of your head as you slowly stand on your feet. He turns around to turn off the shower before reaching out to grab you a towel wrapping you in it and then grabbing himself one. 

“Let me help you,” you motion to his hard on wanting to make him feel good too. 

“No, it's fine baby,” He shakes his head. 

“I love you,” you say softly looking up at him as you hug your towel. 

“I love you too,” He smiles at you as he finishes drying his hair and wrapping the towel around his waist. You both walk out of the shower and head to your bedroom as he slides on his boxers and you grab his tshirt and underwear putting them on. He sits on the edge of the bed waiting for you as you grab your hair brush and brush your hair. 

You finish and turn around to see him watching you as you smile walking over to him standing in between his legs. 

“Let's get in?” you peck his lips softly as he places his hands on the back of your thighs squeezing them softly before nodding. He gets up to open the covers as you crawl in waiting for him to follow, he gets in next to you and puts his arm around you letting you cuddle into his chest. 

You let your fingers trail up and down his chest before they land on his spider tattoo tracing it slowly. 

“You love that one dont you?” He chuckles softly looking down at you as you nod slightly biting your lower lip looking back at him, you lean up to softly kiss his lips before deepening it. He lets out a soft groan as you slowly get on top of him straddling him. He places both his hands on your face holding you as the kiss turns hot and heavy. He moves one hand to slide into your hair gripping it slightly as you softly suck at his bottom lip. 

You begin to slowly grind against his hardness causing him to moan as both his hands reach down to grip your hips.

“We should stop,” He groans, whispering against your lips, using all his strength to pull away from the kiss. 

“No, I want this,” you whisper and look him in the eyes. 

“What?” He studies your face for a few moments not wanting to misread since you had never, “A-Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” you nod holding his face and placing a soft kiss on his lips “I’m sure, I want you to have all of me, Vinnie, I love you” 

He looks at your face for a few more moments and leans up kissing you deeply, “I love you too baby, more than anything,” he whispers against your lips before flipping you both over so he’d be on top of you. He leans back down to kiss you hungrily as you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer, your leg slowly rubbing against his as he moves one hand to slowly pull down your underwear. He rubs your clit slowly feeling your wetness as you moan into the kiss. 

Your hands move down his arms under the covers as you push off his boxers letting his hardness out. He groans softly at the feeling as you take it into your hand stroking it slowly.  

“We’re going to go slowly but if at any point you want to stop or don't feel comfortable, tell me okay?” He pulls away from the kiss breathless looking into your eyes. You nod nervously, moving your hands back to rest on his arms.

“I trust you,” you whisper and he nods, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly before positioning himself at your entrance. You slightly grip at his arms as he slowly enters his tip, biting his lower lip at the feeling. He slowly slides a bit more causing you to wince in pain.

“Vin wait,” you place your hands on his chest pushing him a bit causing him to stop. 

“Do you want to stop?” He moves a hand to stroke your hair softly. 

“No no, keep going,” you shake your head moving your hands up to his shoulders holding them as he slowly enters a little more into you. 

“It hurts, give me a second” you wince once more as you hold back tears not wanting to give up. You attempt to slowly adjust yourself to his length.

“Baby maybe we should stop, we can try again another time,” He looks at you with concern as you shake your head. 

“I-I'm fine, I promise,” you lean up to kiss him softly as he kisses you back nodding. He slowly enters the rest of himself into you, filling you up causing you to grip him tighter. He groans softly at the feeling of finally being deep inside you. 

“You okay baby?” He whispers looking down at you as you nod in reassurance before he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you at a slow and steady pace letting you adjust. 

“Vinnie,” you moan softly, as the pain slowly turns into pleasure, you wrap your arms around his neck once more burying your face into his neck. 

“Yes my good girl,” He lets out a soft moan as he keeps thrusting slowly. 

“You feel good, Vin, you fill me up,” you move your hands to his back slowly gliding them up and down his skin. 

“You’re doing so good, beautiful,” he groans softly as he feels your nails slowly scratch his back. He leans down to pepper kisses all over your neck as you lean your head back giving him more space. “You feel fucking amazing,” He whispers against your neck giving you goosebumps down your spine. 

“Vin, harder,” you bit your lower lip wanting more. He stops kissing your neck in surprise at your words. 

“Are you sure baby?” he swallows hard watching you as you nod.

“Yes, please, harder,” you groan as he follows with harder thrusts. 

“Fuck,” you moan out as your nails dig into his back and your eyes roll back in pleasure. 

“You like that baby?” He groans as he thrusts harder and faster into you, moving one hand to grip your breast squeezing it.

“Yes Vin,” you nod, wrapping your legs around his legs thrusting your hips to meet him. 

“Guess my good girl is a whore for this dick now huh?” he growls into your ear moving his hand down in between you both to rub your clit. 

“Oh my God-- Vinnie,” you moan loudly as your back arches off the bed at the feeling. Your legs begin to shake as you feel your climax approach. 

“Who do you belong to, slut?” He moves his hand away from your clit and kisses you hungerly but pulls away waiting for your answer.

“Fuck Vin,” you moan, whining moving your hand down to your clit before he grips it and holds it down. 

“Answer me,” He growls. 

“Y-You, only you,” you cry in pleasure as he smirks. 

“Good answer,” he moves his hand back to your clit as he watches himself slide in and out of you. He groans feeling your walls begin to clench around his dick as your legs shake vigorously. 

“I'm about to--” you moan loudly gripping at the sheets next to you as he watches you spill all over him before thrusting a few more times and releasing into you. 

You hug into him holding him in place as he holds you not pulling himself out yet. You both lay like that for a few moments in silence as he then slowly pulls out and gets up to grab a towel cleaning you up. You lay there watching him as he then gets back in bed next to you pulling you in to cuddle into him pulling the blanket over you.

“You did so good, baby,” he kisses your forehead holding you tightly “Are you okay? Was that okay for you?” He looks into your eyes as you nod sleepely, kissing his lips softly. 

“Thank you,” you hold him closely as if he'd somehow slip away from this moment. 

“For what beautiful?” he looked down at you rubbing your back softly.

“Just for being so amazing all the time, I don't deserve you,” you hold back tears as best as you could and kiss his chest softly. 

“Hey, don't say that. If anything I don't deserve you, especially after everything I’ve put you through,” he slightly frowns thinking about the two weeks they didn't spend together. 

“It's not your fault,” you shake your head “And of course I wish things were different, but all I care about is spending time with you and being with you.” 

“I will always be by your side, even if you attempt to push me away,” he slightly laughs and you frown. 

“Never again,” you look up at him and he nods, kissing your lips softly as you kiss him back. 

“Never, you're my soulmate.” He whispers against your lips causing you to smile. Your eyes slowly begin to drift closed. 

“Vin,” you say softly as he attempts to stay awake.

“Hm?” he rubs his thumb softly on your arm. 

“In the morning can we do it again but I want to be on top,” you say quietly but get a laugh out of him. 

“We’ll see baby, you’ll be pretty sore in the morning,” he kisses the top of your head and you nod as you both then fall into a deep sleep.

 --------

hope you guys enjoyed this story! feedback is always appreciated <3

[absolutelyfizzing]

he promised

poe dameron x reader

description - Poe always promised he would come back from missions. One time he doesn't. (Ends in fluff i promise i promise)

warnings - depression?, anxiety?, fem pronouns, talk of injury and death, grief, fluff at the end, use of petnames, reader gets carried for a while and sits on a lap, mentions of eating and eating avoidance (not ed)

word count - 3800

A/N - so this was an oops. I wrote this hella fast but i was in the zone and i am pretty happy with the emotionally devastating product. I promise it has a happy ending i just dont want to give too much away. I feel like for maximum emotional damage you need to be a little in the dark. anyway, forgive me

MASTERLIST

You were stood in the command center with your hands wringing together. No matter how many missions Poe went on, the waiting was always hell. How were you supposed to remain sane when the love of your life was out fighting a battle that he might not come back from. That you might never see him again. He always reassured you that he would always come back to you. That you never had anything to worry about. You tried to believe him, and for the most part you did, but that didn't prevent you from being worried when he was gone.

You listened through the coms, trying to keep track of what was happening during the battle. Leia let you stay in there because she had a soft spot for you, as well as the pilot you were worried about. You were thankful she let you listen in on every mission, it meant that you weren't alone worrying in the room you shared with Poe. The conversation over coms was rushed and loud, they were scared and that made your heart beat faster.

'I have to go through, they're gonna come after us if I don't.' You heard your fiance yell. Worry stuck in the pit of your stomach, he was going to take a risk, you could feel it.

'Poe, it's not worth it. We should get out of here while we still can'. You agreed, wanting him to get out of there as soon as possible. You prayed he would listen and just get out.

'I have to try, I can't go back knowing that they could be following us to base.'

'Poe wait-' You heard someone rush out before comotion ensued again. You could feel your heart in your throat. You could have cried. After a minute of listening to pure chaos, nobody in the control room dared to speak a word. Everyone was waiting for an indication of what to do from the squadron. You found yourself zoning out in your worry. You were only broken out of your trance when you heard your fiance's name.

'Poe is down.' You stopped breathing.

"Down? What do you mean down?" You heard Leia call over comms.

'I'm sorry commander, he got hit. His X-Wing engine got shot and he was heading to crash on the planet right below us, his coms died. There's no way to know if he made it through but I don't know many who could take that crash and live. We have to head out and hope he comes back to base but I wouldn't get my hopes up.'

"Get out of there while you still can. We will have to worry about Poe when we gather our strength." Leia responded and the squadron called their understanding before the process of bringing them home began. You hadn't moved. You weren't sure if you had breathed. Your body was fully numb. You could feel eyes on you as everyone waited for you to respond. To show some emotion of your boyfriend having just gone MIA. You couldn't feel yourself though, your fingertips were numb, and you refused to believe he was dead. He promised. He told you he would come home.

Your brain was split between trying to grieve for the loss of the love of your life and trusting that he would be back. That he had to come back because he promised he would and he never breaks a promise. You felt hands on you and you realized you had fallen to sit in your spot. Leia was above you and was ushering you to your feet. You mindlessly let her push you somewhere and you barely even looked to see where you were going.

Eventually you showed up at your apartment door. You couldn't tell whether it felt like it had been instantaneous or an eternity to get there. Leia unlocked your door and pushed you inside and to the small couch that was stood in the living room-like space. The apartments were all very small, Poe had one a little bigger because he was housing with another person and because of his rank. Still, the extra amenities included a small couch, a smaller kitchen, and a window along the bedroom wall. When Leia sat you on the couch she kneeled in front of you. Her hand went to your cheek and you looked at her for the first time since you'd heard Poe go down. She seemed to almost be in tears but your eyes were dry. You didn't feel anything.

"Y/N, what can I do?" She asked gently. "Do you need anything?" You felt yourself shake your head and open your mouth like you were going to talk but closed it again as you thought.

"He said... He said he was coming back." You stated as if it changed the situation. "He promised." You mumbled.

"I know, Y/N. I am so sorry." She tried to console and your head shook. "We don't know what happened after he went down. You heard the team. He might contact us in the next few days, he is a smart man and he knows how to get a message out. But I don't want it to hurt you more if he never does." She tries to reason and you shook your head.

"No, you don't understand. He promised, " your head was spinning, "he's coming back." You felt tears fall down your face. When had you started crying? "He promised me that he was coming back home." Your voice broke which surprised you. Before you knew it you were crying into Leia's arms and you couldn't stop yourself. That was how you stayed with her for a while after, you weren't sure how long. She shed some tears of her own but eventually you both ran dry. You lost feeling again and you couldn't tell if it was better or worse. You made a decision. You wouldn't grieve over him until you were sure he was not coming back. You wouldn't mourn until you were sure.

The alternative was not, however, to recover. Instead you just stopped doing anything at all. You stopped eating, taking care of yourself, caring. Soon, your friends came in to talk to you. Instead of it being conversation though, they just talked at you. You couldn't bring yourself to respond or really even listen. Or maybe you did but you just couldn't remember. They would periodically come through to help you into a shower in which you just let the water run over you while someone else, you thought maybe Rey but you couldn't even recall, washed your hair. You drank water when they asked and would take a bite of food if they begged but other than that you might as well have been dead to the world. You almost hadn't realized how much of a vital part to your existence Poe was. How little you could bring yourself to do without him. You had thought you were prepared to be separated, you were in the middle of a war after all. Instead it was impossible to do anything without him and you wondered how long you could keep doing it.

This went on for a week. That was how long it took for them to declare him 'killed in action'. They felt that, if he was alive, he would have found a way to contact the base with the help of BB8 and local lifeforms. That was when you allowed yourself to grieve. The numbness turned into pain and it was a million times worse. You would have given anything to go back to numb.

You finally listened to your friends when they talked to you but their consolations did nothing to put you at ease. You still struggled to do anything but you complied with their pleads. You had been convinced, 2 weeks after the KIA announcement, to go to the canteen. To see people and interact. Finn pulled you along with an attempt at a smile on his face. Your face was blank but you tried to soften your eyes. You knew he was trying to help and he was grieving the loss of his best friend as well. When you were pulled into the large cafeteria, all noise ceased. You knew that they were looking at you and you guessed that they pitied you. You had seen yourself in the mirror that morning and you would have pitied you too. You got pulled to a table and Finn went to go get you and himself food.

People periodically came by and said hello or asked how you were as you tried to eat something. You responded with one word answers usually and you hadn't met anyone's eyes. You could feel yourself getting overwhelmed and decided you would head back to your room. You quietly thanked Finn for trying and left to the hallway.

Suddenly, alarms sounded. You were startled into awareness and people began running past you.

'ALL EMERGENCY CREW TO FLIGHT DECK'

You were curious about the alarm but you weren't emergency crew and you knew they didn't need any more bodies there than would already be there. That was until you heard someone as they rushed by as they talked to the medic next to them.

"Yeah I heard it was him but he went missing weeks ago." They sounded confused and continued jogging toward the flight deck. You feet started moving before you could even process it and it was the fastest you'd moved since he had gone missing. Since he had died.

When you got to the flight deck there was already a crowd. You could see over the see a people a beat up X-Wing. You thought you might have heard a droid. You elbowed your way to the front of the crowd, not apologizing when people grumbled their frustrations at you. When you made it to the front you were stood no more than 50 feet from him. He was soot covered and beat up but he was standing as he tried to wiggle out of the grasp of the medics. BB8 beeped and turned, spotting you. He made a loud excited noise and rushed to roll over to you and Poe turned at the sound. When he met your gaze he smiled.

You felt your knees give out and tears start to fall from your eyes. Your arms crossed over your stomach and you started to curl into a ball over your knees. A sob left you and suddenly large warm hands were on your shoulders.

"Y/N? My love, are you okay?" He rushed out, checking over you for injury as the medics still grumbled about needing to see him. His hand came under your chin to move your face so he was making eye contact with you. You let out another sob before grabbing his vest and pulling him into you, he kneeled to the ground as you clung to him and cried into his chest. He moved himself so he was sitting on the ground and he pulled you into his lap. You felt his hands on your back trying to soothe you but you couldn't stop crying. "I'm back. I'm so sorry I was gone but I'm back." He mumbled out as he kissed your head a few times.

"I'm so angry at you." You whispered and he almost laughed, just happy to hear your voice. You finally pulled your head out of his chest and kissed him like your life depended on it, like it was the last time you would ever see him. You pulled away so you were looking into his eyes. "Please don't leave me," you begged almost silently. You weren't even sure if he could hear you. "Please don't leave again."

"I'm not leaving, baby, I promise." He tried to calm you. "I'm right here. I'm okay."

You nodded, trying to convince yourself that he was real and he was here. You kissed him again just to check. You pulled away again, still trying to convince yourself.

"You died." You struggled out and Poe felt tears in his eyes as well. "You were dead, you crashed and you didn't make it and then they said you were gone." You said like that was what happened.

"I didn't die, my love. I'm right here. I'm alive, I'm okay." Poe pleaded and he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his face so you could feel him. Your hand moved along is jaw which was now covered in stubble and grime. Your head shook like you were disagreeing with him but you were simply in disbelief.

"I love you" You mumbled as your eyes traced the lines of his face and tears fell from your eyes. He let a few tears fall as well before pressing meaningful kisses to every part of your face that he could reach.

You spent the next 2 hours like that. You wouldn't leave his hold and he didn't try to move you. The medics worked around you and everyone greeted him without disturbing you. You stayed, on his lap, curled into his chest. Your breathing had slowed to a normal pace and you were holding onto his vest tightly. Eventually, he had to be debriefed. He petted your hair and cooed at you to catch your attention.

"Y/N, my love," he whispered, "we have to get up now." He felt you nod but you made no move to get up from him. He took a breath before moving you off of his lap as you whined, standing up, and then picking you up so you could wrap yourself around him. You hummed contentedly into his chest and he had a smile on his face as he walked through the base.

"I love you." You whispered again into his chest. You had been doing it periodically every so often in the last 2 hours and every time Poe would repeat it back to you, kiss your head, or say something else. This time he chose to kiss your head.

"Baby, I have to go to the debriefing now and you know you can't come with me." He tried to say gently but he knew this separation might be hard for both of you. "I'm gonna put you down." He warned before encouraging your legs to go to the floor. You listened but didn't release his neck which you were also clung to. His hands fell to your waist and you both stood for a moment with your heads in each others necks and breathing deeply. "I'm gonna hand you off to Rey, okay?" He asked as he flagged down Rey from the hallway.

"Okay." You whispered, still not releasing him.

"Hey, Rey, sorry to bother you but could you keep Y/N company for a few minutes while I talk to Leia and the squadron?"

"Oh of course!" Rey chirped and you took a deep breath before releasing Poe. You let him kiss your cheeks and your nose before he walked the other direction toward the command center. You stared at him until Rey put her hand in yours and clasped it. You turned to look at her and for the first time in weeks, she saw you smile. "I'm so happy for you, Y/N." She assured and you believed her.

"Thank you." You whispered and another tear fell from you, this time of joy and happiness. Not grief.

"What do you say to heading to your room and get cleaned up a bit, yeah?" She tried and you nodded, following where her hand lead with one last glance toward the direction that Poe went.

"-the converter didnt even work until a day ago because the main power source broke down." Poe finished explaining his time on the planet he had crashed on and the rest of the squadron nodded and asked a few more questions. Once he was done, Finn met him outside the command center.

"So-" he paused, "I'm not sure how to say this nicely but most of your stuff went into the redistribution center because you were presumed dead." He rushed out. Poe took a moment to process and nodded.

"Well that's sort of a bummer. Could I borrow some of your stuff?" Poe asked, knowing it would take at least a day for him to get reassigned sets of uniforms.

"Yeah of course, that's why I'm standing here waiting for you. You could get cleaned up in my room too if you want. I know Y/N kept a few of your jackets and shirts but most of it got taken." The boys began to walk toward Finn's living quarters and there was a moment of silence before Poe asked something he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to.

"What happened when I was gone?" His throat felt dry suddenly and his words came out hoarse. "To Y/N I mean. Was she okay?" Poe wasn't sure what answer he wanted. He knew from your recent reaction that you were devastated, as he would have been, but he also knew he had a dangerous job. He might not come back from some other mission in the future and he hoped you would survive without him.

"Do you really want to know?" Finn questioned.

Poe nodded.

"I mean, she was broken." He paused to think. "She didn't talk to anyone for a week. Wouldn't move. Wouldn't cry. Rey had to help her shower and we had to beg her to eat. We almost sent her to the med wing because we thought she was gonna pass out from dehydration, she would barely take a sip of water." Poe's heart was in his throat but he was sure there was more. "Then you were pronounced KIA."

"Oh god."

"Yeah it wasn't pretty. They pulled your stuff out of your guys' room, took your name off the ledger. Leia let her keep some stuff but it was hard to watch. She finally cried, she just wouldn't stop. She was more responsive but she wasn't even moving towards okay. You could tell she was only doing what we were asking because we were begging. That she was doing it out of guilt. Today was actually the first day that I talked her into coming out of her room. She had been to the canteen for about an hour when she felt she needed to leave and then alarms sounded that you were back." Finn finished with a glance to his friend and Poe looked like he might throw up.

"I want her to be okay if I don't make it back one day." Poe tried to explain to his friend.

"She probably would have been functioning in a few months. She wouldn't have recovered but she would function. She's a strong woman, but she also loves you a lot. I mean, how would you react if she was killed on mission?" Poe could tell it was a rhetorical question but he thought about it very carefully. You were an engineer so you weren't called out on mission often, not nearly as often as him. When you were, he was worried sick the whole time. He hadn't really thought about how him being gone affected you before. Now looking back on it he kicked himself for it.

Poe thought about what he would have done if you had died and he thought that your reaction was probably mild. That he would have been unresponsive for weeks or even become violent with anger and grief. He knew that you were the one for him, the most important thing in his life, and without you he didn't know if he would find purpose in his life anymore. He fought in the war as hard as he did for you. To make the galaxy safer for you.

When he went MIA it was because he tried to take out a couple more imperial ships than he could handle. He only did it because he knew they would have followed them back to base if they left. Back to you. So he took the risk and it backfired but he knew he would do it again to try and keep the First Order away from you.

He was knocked out of his train of thought by the arrival at Finn's quarters. Poe tried to get cleaned up and dressed quickly, getting the grime off of himself and shaving his face. He hurried back to your shared quarters and when he entered his room he was greeted with your smiling face as you laughed.

You were sat on the bed, Rey on the other end, as you were talking about something which caught you in a fit of giggles. At the sound of him stepping into the room you looked at him and got up quickly to rush up and hug him tightly.

"Missed you." You mumbled into his chest. As he held you Rey silently nodded at Poe and left the room.

"Was only gone for a minute, honey bun." He reassured and you pulled your face back.

"You know I hate that one."

"Boo bear?" he teased and you shook your head no. "Munchkin?" nope. "honey bear?" no thank you. "Baby love?" You tilted your head a bit.

"I don't loathe that one."

"Sweetheart?"

"I like that one."

"Princess?"

"That's my favorite" You giggled and kissed him quickly for a moment. He could have cried at the sight of you giggling. He had missed that, you, the sounds you made, so goddamn much. More than he would ever put into words.

"I know it is, pretty girl." He smiled before picking you up and you squealed. He walked you over to the bed before dropping you on it and laying next to you. You climbed close to him, practically laying on his chest. His arm was snug around your waist and he left no room for you to move, not that you would have anyway. "How would you feel about going to bed, princess?" He almost whispered, not wanting to disrupt the fragile quiet in the room.

"Yes please. I love you Poe." You whispered back and closed your eyes a bit, focussing on his breathing.

"I love you, Y/N" he responded.

You both got the first decent sleep you'd had in weeks that night.