#now everyone has to be aware of everything

[somegirlyoumetx]

Where the Game Ends

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Word Count: ~4.3k

Summary: You stayed up too late replaying Hogwarts Legacy. Just one more run. One more goodbye to the boy with too much to handle and no one left in his corner. You hit 100% completion.

Everything done. Everything perfect.

And then you fell asleep.

But you wake up in the Undercroft.

Sebastian Sallow-real, alive, and seconds from hexing you-is standing over you with his wand drawn. The story hasn't ended. It's still happening. But now, you're inside it. No wand. No plan. No way back. And nothing to explain your existence.

Content & Trigger Warnings (18+): Explicit sexual content (NSFW), raw intimacy, oral (f. receiving), penetrative sex, light pain kink, overstimulation, time-slip/self-insert themes, consent emphasized but emotionally charged.

A/N: This is a standalone one-shot. Emotional development would unfold more gradually in a full-length fic.

This is part of a fanfiction concept that may eventually become a full-length book-but for now, I just wanted to explore it as a single, self-contained scene.

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You set the controller down and sigh. The cutscene plays out—same as always. You’ve seen it five times now. OWLs complete. House Cup secured. This time, you even hit 100%. Every side quest, every hidden chest, every Merlin Trial. It’s all finished. Finally.

And still, something’s missing.

Sebastian Sallow.

He should be here. He deserves to be standing with everyone else, part of the celebration. But for whatever reason, he never is. You never sent him to Azkaban—you couldn’t. No matter how many times you replay the game, you always choose to let him go.

The credits begin to roll, and your eyes are already heavy. It’s late—past 3 a.m.—and you’ve been playing for hours. The soft music wraps around you, familiar and final. You sink back into your blankets, eyes slipping shut, heartbeat slowing.

And then… you drift off.

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You wake slowly.

Your head feels heavy, like you’ve been asleep for years. For a second, you assume you’re still in bed—maybe you passed out with the TV on again. But you smell something different, something heavy: dust. Musty air. A weird hum beneath it all.

You blink.

You’re not at home.

You’re lying on stone flooring, the surface cool beneath your bare thighs. Torch light flickers across the walls. Boxes are scattered around the room. You recognize the architecture immediately—the Undercroft. From the game.

What the hell kind of dream is this?

You slowly sit up and glance down at yourself. You’re still in the clothes you fell asleep in: your oversized frog-print T-shirt and a pair of black underwear. Your cow slippers—lopsided and slightly scuffed—are still somehow on your feet. The sight of them against the stone is so ridiculous it almost makes you laugh.

“On your feet. Now.”

Your stomach drops as you recognize the voice.

Sebastian.

He stands just ahead, half-obscured by the shadows curling around the Undercroft’s columns. His wand is raised—aimed directly at you—and there’s no trace of the familiar smirk you’ve seen a hundred times in cutscenes. He’s taller in person. Broader. Tousled brown hair falls just above his brow. His robes hang open, his vest wrinkled, tie loose, and collar undone like he dressed in a hurry.

His face is freckled—faint, scattered across his nose and cheekbones, especially vivid in the flickering light. And his brown eyes pin you in place with suspicion.

He looks real. He feels real.

And he is seconds away from hexing you.

His gaze drops.

“That’s… quite the outfit to wear sneaking into a place like this.”

You follow his stare and freeze.

He looks completely floored. Not just confused—stunned. Like he’s never seen so much bare leg in his life and can’t decide if you’re cursed or criminal.

This has to be a dream.

But the cold is real. The silence is too loud. The feeling of his gaze on your skin makes you hyper-aware of every breath you take. And the way he’s watching you feels far too precise to be imagined.

You scramble to your feet and throw your hands up in surrender.

“I—I don’t know how I got here,” you say quickly. “My name is Y/N. I woke up here!”

“How did you find this place?”

“I told you—I don’t know!”

“Liar,” his voice snaps. “Try again.”

“I was in my room!” you blurt. “It was late. I fell asleep and then—I woke up here. I was playing a game!”

“A game?” His eyes narrow. There’s a flicker of disbelief. The wand stays up. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Not really,” you say, lifting your hands higher. “But it was worth a shot.”

You shift your weight, and glance around the room—searching for something to anchor you. “I really can’t tell if I’m dreaming or not.”

Sebastian moves suddenly—just one quick step forward, wand lifting higher, and the movement is so real, so close, that you flinch.

“Sebastian!” The name leaves your mouth instinctively.

He freezes.

“You know my name?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “I know you because of the game. I know this place is called the Undercroft. I know your best friend—Ominis Gaunt—was the one who found it first.”

He doesn’t move, but something shifts in his expression. Something unsettled.

“Impossible,” he says tightly. “Tell me who you are.”

“Look,” you say quietly. “I’m from the year 2025. This place—Hogwarts, this world—it’s not supposed to be real where I’m from. It’s fictional. It’s… a story.”

He stares at you like you’ve gone mad.

“It’s a game,” you continue. “You’re in it. I played it. I watched your story unfold through a character with ancient magic.”

“Explain,” he says, voice barely audible. But the wand stays up. The tension doesn’t leave the room.

So, you try.

You tell him about screens, about controllers, about pixels and code and decision-based dialogue trees. You try to explain what a video game is, what Hogwarts Legacy is, how you explored every part of this world—from the Highlands to Hogsmeade—and how he was always your favorite part of it.

The whole time, he says nothing.

But his grip on the wand loosens. Just a little.

“Ancient magic…” he hums after you finish explaining. His tone is thoughtful, but there’s something brittle under it. “You’re talking about Milton Shagworthy.”

You blink. “Sorry—what?”

“Milton Shagworthy,” he repeats, completely serious. “He’s the new fifth-year. Helped me with the Scriptorium. With Anne. All of it.”

You choke on a laugh. “Milton Shagworthy? Who—who named their character that?”

He shrugs, unfazed. “I don’t know. But that’s who you just described.”

You’re still laughing. “You’re telling me someone made a custom character, named him Milton Shagworthy, and played through your life like it’s a joke—and you’re just fine with that?”

He raises a brow. “I’m not fine with it, I’m just telling you what’s real. Apparently.”

“And I’m telling you… it was a game. You were in it. That story? It’s something we play. Make choices in. Milton Shagworthy is the result of someone’s really unfortunate imagination.”

He’s quiet for a long time.

“Then you know what I did.”

“I do,” you whisper.

He doesn’t look at you, but you see it—how his shoulders tighten, how his grip on the wand slackens just slightly. Like something cracked open inside him and hasn’t been sealed since.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I didn’t mean—”

“You already did.”

It’s not harsh. Just… hollow.

You hesitate, then take a cautious step forward.

“Let me help you.”

That gets a reaction. He lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Help me? How could you help me?”

You meet his gaze and hold it.

“Because I’ve seen what comes next. In the game, your story ends—or fades into the background—but here? It’s still happening. You’re still in it. And maybe that means I’m not just here by accident. Maybe I’m here to help you get through it.”

He doesn’t respond. Just watches you for a moment—long enough to make your heart stutter. His wand lowers an inch, then two, until it’s finally at his side.

That alone feels like a truce.

He sighs, like he’s weighing his options. Then, without a word, he steps back and gestures—barely—with a tilt of his head.

You settle onto one of the wooden boxes, the edge creaking softly beneath you. He doesn’t sit, but he doesn’t stop you either. You’re not close, but you’re not far anymore.

“So,” he says, finally breaking the silence. “You said you were playing the game before you ended up here?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone can play it?”

You nod. “Pretty much.”

“And it just… ends like that? My story never finishes?”

You hesitate, then shrug. “Not really. You just kind of disappear. It’s vague. Unresolved.”

He frowns. “That’s absurd.”

“Yeah. A lot of people think so. Which is why they write about what they think happens after.”

“Write?” His brow furrows. “Stories?”

“They call it fan fiction.”

He repeats the words slowly, like he’s tasting them. “And what—these stories… are they good? Do they give me better endings?”

You smile faintly. “Most of them do. Some don’t. Some are completely unhinged.”

“What do you mean?”

You clear your throat. “Some people write… other things.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Other things?”

“…Intimate things.”

A beat.

“Intimate,” he echoes, cautious.

“They write about you. About you doing… things.”

He stares. “With who?”

You hesitate. “Usually themselves. Or their own characters.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

He looks at you. Really looks. “And have you…?”

You raise a hand quickly. “I plead the fifth.”

“The fifth what?”

“Never mind.”

He watches you for a long moment after that—like he’s still trying to figure you out, still deciding whether you’re real or just a cruel trick played by magic and grief.

You don’t say anything else. Neither does he.

But the silence that follows isn’t as tense as before. It settles between you, strange but not unwelcome.

Eventually, he sits beside you.

Not close at first. But then his shoulder brushes yours as he shifts, and when your thighs touch—briefly—he doesn’t move away.

He glances at you sideways, guarded. Searching.

“You really don’t belong here.”

“I know,” you say with a small shrug. “But I’m here.”

“You’d really help me?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper. 

You meet his eyes without flinching. “Without a doubt.”

He looks away fast, jaw tight. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you understand.”

“I do.”

“You couldn’t possibly—” His voice catches. “You couldn’t understand what it was like for me.”

“I do.”

You hold his gaze as the words spill from you.

“Sebastian, I watched you suffer. Alone. I saw the pain. The desperation. The way you love your sister so fiercely it tore pieces out of you. I know.”

He’s breathing hard now. Not from anger. From something else.

“You never deserved to be alone,” you say gently. “And you’re not a monster. Not the one you think you are. You’re not.”

Your voice softens.

“How could you be a monster for trying to save the people you love?”

He goes still.

Then he moves so fast you don’t even register that his lips are on yours until you’re already kissing him back.

The kiss starts like a detonation—hot, fast, fueled by everything neither of you have said.

But then… it shifts.

Less rushed. Slower. Less like a spark and more like collapse. Like he’s been holding back for so long that now, with your mouth on his, he’s finally unraveling. His hand curls behind your neck, anchoring you in place. The other slips to your thigh, then higher. His palm burns through the fabric of your shirt like it’s nothing.

You breathe against his lips, voice trembling. “Sebastian—”

He doesn’t pull back. Just leans his forehead to yours, panting, brows furrowed like he’s trying not to fall apart.

“You say my name like it means something.”

“It does,” you whisper.

His eyes search yours. 

“This doesn’t make sense,” he says, voice cracking. “You. Here. Wanting me like this.”

“None of it makes any sense,” you say. “But it’s happening.”

You’re still sitting on the wooden crate, knees touching, breath tangled. Your shirt’s falling off one shoulder. His tie is hanging even looser and useless around his neck.

His gaze drops to your lips. “Tell me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you say, breathless. “But… I’ve never done this before.”

He freezes.

You can almost hear the gears grinding behind his eyes. “Never?”

“Not with anyone.”

His eyes flash—not with lust, but with concern. “And you want this to be with me?”

“I already chose you,” you say. “Every time I played. Every time I watched the story—I chose you.”

He stares at you like you’ve cracked him wide open.

Then he kisses you again. Harder.

And that’s when you feel it—his restraint breaking. His tongue slides along yours, and his fingers tighten on your thigh. He groans into your mouth when you whimper, when you dig your nails into his shirt.

He yanks his vest down his arms, then shrugs out of the shirt underneath, breath shaking. You run your hands over his firm, freckled chest. His body is hot beneath your palms, and you want more.

He pulls your shirt up—pauses just beneath your chest. “Can I see you?”

You nod, and raise your arms.

The shirt comes off.

Your breasts rise and fall with your breath. He’s looking at you like you’re something special—like if he blinks, he’ll miss it.

“Bloody hell,” he breathes. “You’re unreal.”

Your mouth tilts. “You can touch.”

He does.

One hand, gentle but desperate, cups your breast. His thumb brushes your nipple until it stiffens under his touch. You moan, and that’s all it takes—his mouth is on your throat, then your collarbone, then down to your chest. His tongue flicks over your nipple. He sucks, just once, and you move into him.

“I want you on your back,” he growls.

“Then take me there.”

He stands, grabs you by the hips, and lifts you off the crate like you weigh nothing. The stone floor is cold against your back, but the heat from his body makes up for it. He kneels between your legs, eyes drinking you in.

You reach for his belt. “Take this off.”

He unbuckles it fast, shoving his trousers down to his thighs. His cock presses against the fabric of his boxers—thick, long, hard, and already leaking.

But he doesn’t touch himself. He’s focused entirely on you.

He crouches over you, fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “These too?”

“Yes.”

He pulls them down slowly. The air hits your soaked core and your thighs twitch.

“Y/N,” he breathes.

He spreads your legs and settles between them. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping and massaging like he can’t believe you’re real.

You prop yourself up on your elbows just in time to watch his head lower.

Then his mouth is on you.

You cry out.

His tongue licks a long, slow stripe through your folds. Then another. His mouth wraps around your clit and sucks, gentle at first, then firmer, and your hips buck.

He grabs them. “Stay still.”

“Can’t,” you gasp. “I—Sebastian—”

He looks up at you.

And the sight knocks the breath from your lungs.

His face is buried between your thighs, freckles flushed, mouth glistening, eyes locked on yours. Hungry. Possessive.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs, voice rough, lips brushing your clit. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“You’re—you’re going to kill me,” you pant.

“I haven’t even started.”

He dives back in.

His tongue flicks, laps, then flattens and drags in slow circles. He switches rhythms—teasing one second, focused the next. You can’t keep your legs still. One of your hands fists in his hair and tugs, hard. He groans, and the vibration makes you see stars.

“Oh yes—please—don’t stop—”

He doesn’t. He devours you like it’s the only way he’ll survive. He kisses your pussy like it’s holy. Like he’s worshipping you with his mouth. Like your pleasure is the only thing he’s ever wanted.

Your thighs start to shake. Your hands try to grip the floor.

“I’m going to—fuck—Sebastian—”

He moans, “Come on my tongue.”

And you do.

It crashes through you like wildfire. Your body locks, your back arches, and you scream his name.

But he doesn’t stop.

He licks you through it, softer now, slower, coaxing every wave of aftershock until your legs are trembling and your voice breaks.

You collapse. Boneless. Gasping.

He kisses up your thigh, your stomach, your chest, until he’s over you again.

“You alright?”

You blink up at him, dazed. “You ruined me.”

He grins. “Good.”

Then you reach for him.

“Now,” you whisper. “It’s your turn.”

You reach down into his boxes and wrap your hand around him. 

His cock twitches against your grip. His breath quickens, eyes slamming shut as your thumb swipes across the head. When he opens them again, they’re darker than you’ve ever seen.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “you’re going to undo me.”

He kisses you hard, biting your bottom lip, hips stuttering forward like he can’t stop himself from grinding into your hand. You stroke him once, twice—just to feel him, the way he pulses against your skin.

Then your voice goes soft. “I want you inside me.”

His forehead presses to yours. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything.”

Sebastian pulls back just enough to strip the rest of his clothes off—tossing his boxers to the side—and kneels between your legs again, completely bare.

You look down at him. Really look.

He’s beautiful.

Not just his body—but the way he looks at you. He keeps looking at you like you’re the only thing that’s ever made sense in his fucked up world.

He strokes himself once, spreading your pussy along his length, then presses the head of his cock to your entrance. He’s slow, like he’s bracing himself for the moment everything changes.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he murmurs.

You nod, barely breathing. “I want to feel all of it.”

And then he pushes in.

You gasp. The stretch is violent, unfamiliar, and so, so full.

“Y/N—” he growls, jaw clenched. “You’re so tight. So fucking warm—”

You whimper, your walls pulsing. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he breathes.

He inches in deeper, watching your face for any hint of discomfort. You feel every inch of him until he’s fully inside you. When his hips finally meet yours, you moan—long and low.

“Ah—Sebastian,” you gasp. “You feel so deep.”

“Because I’m not holding back,” he murmurs. “You’re going to remember this. Every time you close your eyes.”

He stays still for a moment. Breathing. Letting you adjust.

Then he pulls out—just enough to tease your entrance—and thrusts back in. Your breath catches again. The burn is already fading, replaced with unbearable pressure and dizzying heat.

He fucks you slowly at first, hips rolling, grinding his pelvis into your clit with every stroke.

“I—I can’t believe this,” you pant.

He lowers his forehead to yours. “Believe it.”

His pace quickens. The slap of skin-on-skin echoes in the chamber. His hands grip your hips. Your moans turn to gasps. Then to curses.

“Fuck—Sebastian—”

“You take me so well,” he pants. 

He leans back, grabs your thighs, and lifts your hips slightly—just enough to tilt your pelvis toward him. The change is subtle, but when he thrusts again—

Oh.

It’s like lightning.

The air punches out of your lungs.

His cock drags against something inside you that makes your entire body lock up.

Your mouth falls open but no sound comes out at first—just a strangled inhale as white heat rushes through your spine. Every nerve in your body lights up. That spot—that spot—he hits it again, and your legs jerk in response. Reflexive.

“Right there,” you moan. “Fuck—right there—don’t stop—”

You feel helpless under it. Like he’s got his hands wrapped around the base of your soul and he’s pulling pleasure out of you one grind at a time. Every deep stroke forces your body open wider. Every motion drags a desperate sound from your throat.

It’s not just penetration—it’s precision. Pressure. The perfect collision of want and anatomy and the kind of slow, focused rhythm that drives people mad.

Your thighs tremble. Your vision pulses. You can feel another orgasm building and you’re not even sure how long you’ll last.

He sees it in your face. Smirks like sin and does it again.

“Oh my God—”

He’s relentless now. Slamming into you. His brow furrows, his mouth hanging open. Sweat beads at his temples, rolls down his chest. You cling to his forearms while your nails dig into his skin.

Then he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

You whimper.

“Oh, you like that,” he smirks.

“Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

He thrusts even harder. Merciless.

And then he lets go of one wrist to reach down and rub your clit in tight circles.

“You’re so close,” he grunts out. “I can feel you—tightening up—fuck—come for me. Want to feel you lose it on my cock.”

Your mouth falls open. A high, broken whine slips out.

You’re already right there—so close you’re throbbing. Your body’s coiled tight, burning, clenching around him like you’re trying to drag him deeper. He keeps hitting that spot, over and over, every thrust stealing more of your breath.

“I—I can’t—” you cry out, voice wrecked. “Please, Sebastian—don’t stop—please—fuck—I’m going to—”

“That’s it,” he groans. “Give it to me. Let me feel you fall apart.”

“Please—please—want you to feel it—want you to feel how much I need you—”

And then you come.

Your entire body tenses around him. You scramble to grip anything to keep your body from losing control. Your thighs shake violently around his waist. Your pussy clenches down hard—dragging a groan out of him.

“Fucking—hell—

You can barely speak, barely breathe. You cling to him, whimpering, still trembling through the aftershocks.

“Inside,” you gasp. “Sebastian—please—want it—want you to come in me—I need to feel it—need you.”

He loses it.

He slams into you one last time—deep, deep—like he’s trying to put something permanent inside you.

“Fuck—yes—I’m coming—”

You feel the first hot pulse of his cum, then another—thick, filling you completely. He moans your name into your neck, over and over, hips grinding through it, desperate to push every drop into you.

You’re still fluttering around him, soaked and full.

The Undercroft is finally quiet.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, echoing louder than the torches crackling along the walls. Sebastian lies half on top of you, still buried deep. His breath ghosts across your shoulder.

For a minute, neither of you speak.

“Are you… alright?” His voice is shaky. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head. “No. You ruined me, sure. But in the best way.”

He lets out a soft, relieved sound—half laugh, half exhale—and kisses the hollow of your throat. His lips linger there like he doesn’t want to leave.

You shift, and both of you hiss—his cock twitching inside you, your thighs sticky with sweat.

“We made a mess,” you mumble.

“We did,” he agrees, smirking against your skin. “I’m proud of it.”

You let out a breathless laugh, but your body trembles when you feel him slowly pull out. You whine at the sudden emptiness. His cum leaks out of you immediately.

Sebastian watches. Then mutters, “Fuck, that’s obscene.”

He runs two fingers along your core—just to spread it wider, watch it drip out of you. You squirm.

“Stop,” you whimper, hips twitching.

“Oh no,” he murmurs. “I’m not done looking at you.”

He leans down and kisses your hip, then trails his mouth to the inside of your thigh. His tongue flicks out, tasting what he left there.

You flinch. “Sebastian—”

“You taste like sex,” he groans. “Like mine.”

Your legs nearly close around his head, but he pins them open. “Hold still.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you let me fuck you on the floor of a cursed hideout,” he says. “What does that make you?”

“Very, very lucky,” you whisper.

He kisses your clit—just a soft brush of lips. You flinch again, oversensitive. He hums.

“You’re still so swollen.”

You glare. “That’s your fault.”

He grins. “You’re welcome.”

Sebastian crawls back up over your body, settling between your thighs again, his now-soft cock brushing against your sensitive core. You gasp—still sensitive.

“I can’t,” you say, voice shaking.

“I know.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You wrap your arms around him, tuck your face into his neck. You feel safe there—tucked under his weight, surrounded by his warmth.

“You were incredible,” he whispers. “The sounds you made—the way you looked at me—”

You lift your head and kiss him. A different kind of hunger is there now—slower, sweeter.

“I meant what I said,” you whisper. “You’re not a monster. You never were.”

His eyes shutter. He leans his forehead to yours again. “You’re the first person to ever say that and mean it.”

“I watched everything you went through. I know what you did. But I also know why.”

“I wanted to save her. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“I know.” Your thumb strokes the line of his cheekbone. “And you deserved someone in your corner. Even if I had to fall out of the sky to do it.”

He gives a broken, hoarse laugh. “You really are mad.”

“Maybe” you whisper. “But you’re here—wrapped around me like you never want to let go.”

“Because I don’t.”

That silences you both.

He eventually rolls to the side, gathering you into his arms, pulling your body against his chest. Your leg hooks over his hip. His hand drifts up and down your spine, barely touching. Just enough to feel like you’re real.

You whisper, “What now?”

He thinks for a moment.

“Now…” he says, brushing hair from your face, “I memorize every inch of you. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case this isn’t real. Or in case it is, and I wake up without you.”

You pull him closer, leg tightening around him. “I’m not leaving.”

He holds you tighter. “You promise?”

You nod against his chest. “Promise.”

[wwinterwitch]

choosing ─ bucky barnes x reader x ava starr

summary: you started to fall for bucky almost as soon as you met, but it's impossible to pretend like you completely got over your complex feelings for ava. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader, ava starr x fem!reader word count: 7.6k tags: bisexual!reader, poly dynamics (nothing happens between bucky and ava tho), new avengers featured, angst and fluff, comfort too i guess, happy ending, kissing, proofread but this story changed a lot so some pronouns might be all over the place because it used to be an oc fic rather than x reader oops so keep that in mind!

a reblog and/or comment is always appreciated!

main masterlist | marvel masterlist

The chemistry between you and Bucky is undeniable. There's something about the playful banter and the stolen glances here and there when one of you thinks the other isn't looking that makes it painfully obvious. You two aren't just co-workers or friends.

You were somewhat aware of Bucky's existence before getting involved in all of this mess. You have heard a few things about the tragic fate of Steve Rogers' best friend and his path of redemption. The former assassin becomes a struggling politician.

But Bucky probably didn't know much about you before the team was formed. How could he? You’ve been keeping an extremely low profile most of your life. That's how you keep a good reputation in your line of work. You’re good at disappearing and making people disappear. One of a kind, as the Kingpin used to remind you. He was the one who recommended you to Valentina before you officially cut any ties– from one shitty employer to another.

There was something there from the moment the two of you met, after you and the others managed to escape that death trap Valentina had set for everyone. An unspoken thing that somehow was too loud to ignore.

Perhaps neither of you wanted to acknowledge it at the time. Perhaps you thought nothing would come out of it. Perhaps you were way too focused on the life-or-death situation involving The Sentry to really pay any attention to your growing chemistry.

Bucky can't even remember the last time he has felt anything remotely romantic towards someone else, his love life being as much of a failure as his work as congressman so far. But that vacancy in his heart was something he had become used to at that point, because he simply didn't have the energy or time to care.

As for you, you have also grown accustomed to being alone, coming to terms with the idea of it after so many years in this line of work. You tried exploring the idea of having a partner but it just didn't work out the way you expected. Eventually, you figured it would be better if you didn't have those distractions, and you didn't want to put someone in danger by dragging them into your shitty life because you were selfish enough to keep them around.

But that was before. Now, you're apparently stepping up as 'The New Avengers', and that changes everything.

You all live together at the old Avengers Tower, which means you and Bucky started spending a lot of time together. There are plenty of nights where you have stayed up just talking about whatever you and Bucky feel like sharing with each other, seeing far beyond the harsh exterior you two present to the world.

This newfound proximity has made Bucky realize how painfully large that empty spot in his heart truly is, and it has shown you that it's okay to be a little selfish sometimes.

The banter is just straight up flirting at this point and pretty much everyone in the team knows what is going on– including her.

Ava has been oddly unfazed by it, and even when you should probably be relieved that she doesn't seem to care, it's impossible to deny that such indifference hurts.

It's almost pathetic to think she was one of the main reasons why you were holding back from even allowing yourself to process your attraction to Bucky in the first place, thinking you owe it to her after all these years. What a slap in the face it is to realize how little everything meant to her.

Your relationship is anything but simple. You met through Valentina, working on a few assignments together here and there but nothing too serious. Eventually, you started to get closer, but you were never an official couple– in fact, you’re not entirely sure Ava even wanted to be your girlfriend in the first place. She just needed someone to rely on and you were there to provide the comfort and companionship she's been craving for a very long time, absolutely tired of being (and feeling) alone.

You gave her a sense of purpose she thought she'd never be able to find...or so she said, because it looks like she never gave a fuck about whatever it was that you two had.

But perhaps you not working out was for the better. The situation just wasn't ideal. You had a lot of work at the time and many things to figure out on your own. Too unavailable. You would avoid any interaction that differed from a friendly or professional exchange to avoid getting into a situation where you might not know how to escape safely when it inevitably leads to failure. Ava would say something like "I've never felt this way about anyone before". And then you let her in. And then Ava would disappear. It was an endless circle– one of you would say something outrageous before avoiding contact for weeks.

Would it have worked now that you're in a far more stable situation? If Bucky never showed up, would you be together now? Ava's behavior seems to answer those questions right away. Perhaps you not working out was for the better.

You have come to a point where you wish Ava would just ignore you. That would mean that perhaps she cares at least a little bit. Instead, she acts completely normal. She simply does not care that the girl who (supposedly) 'gave her a sense of purpose' is getting closer to someone else. Not happy, not upset...just nothing.

Her indifference evidently pisses you off, because you genuinely thought that what you had was special...it was to you, at least. It’s frustrating to think back on all of those instances when you almost dared to take that extra step…to suggest that you could leave your lives as Valentina’s little helpers behind and just try to figure things out on your own. You genuinely thought that you could’ve had your chance to finally be together.

That explains why you struggled to admit to yourself that you were developing feelings for Bucky, or why you were reluctant at first to let your connection develop even further. It was only when you realized Ava never truly cared about you that you finally understood it was pointless to maintain any sense of loyalty. You let go of the guilt of developing feelings for someone else– feelings scarily similar to the ones you were developing towards Ava before everything was suddenly over between you.

Still, even when you should feel at peace with it, knowing you’re free to explore your feelings for Bucky, you don't feel okay at all. If anything, you just feel conflicted. A part of you wants to focus entirely on Bucky, but another part of you is still trying to understand how Ava is so nonchalant about this when she used to stroke your hair in the middle of the night as she thanked her for changing her life.

Any reasonable person would expect that someone with such claims would give a fuck, right?

The whole situation is confusing. You know you really like Bucky. The feelings you have for him are real and exciting. He has proven to you his intentions are sincere and genuine, and he's not afraid to express his feelings for you.

But even then, you can't deny you still care a lot about Ava. You wish you could magically forget about what you went through together, but you just can't let go of those memories. You never got a proper closure. Never quite figured out why you could never make things work. It’s impossible to let someone go when you don't fully understand the reasons why you should let them go in the first place.

These thoughts invade your mind from time to time, torturing you with the uncertainty of it all. This is definitely one of those days where you’re fixated on it. They distracted you at your training session this morning and haunted you in the shower later. Even now, as you’re walking towards the kitchen, is all you can think about.

To your luck, you bump into each other, just as Ava is trying to leave the kitchen and you’re trying to walk in. Again, you wish the other woman would just completely ignore you, or perhaps look at you with eyes filled with disappointment and betrayal. You just want her to do something. Anything to let you know she cares.

“Bob brought everyone donuts this morning, if you want some," she says extremely casually, pointing back at the kitchen before intending to continue walking.

Donuts were the breaking point, apparently.

"You've got to be kidding me, Ava."

"What?" she asks, acting genuinely confused.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Her expression changes almost immediately, jaw tightening just enough and her eyes darkening. Her face is a reflection of the uncomfortable situation she's about to endure. The inevitable conversation she knows she can't keep avoiding.

"Could we go somewhere more private?"

You don't say anything back, which Ava takes as a silent agreement. You start walking towards the elevator, immediately hitting the button that would take you to the rooftop. It's highly unlikely anyone is up there now. They're mostly up here when they want to watch the sunset or just sit underneath the stars and chat until one of you is tired enough to fall asleep (that's almost always John). 

You reach the rooftop, walking towards the small balcony area that all of you set up as a team. Each of you has a designated recliner because Alexei suggested it. The area is decorated with tons of plants that you and Yelena take care of. Ava hanged a few fairy lights on the wall. Bob tends to forget a book or two up here that somehow always contributes to the decor. Bucky claims he got a free candle at a market once and decided to keep it here (everyone knows he probably bought it intentionally but just won't confess it). Oh, and John brought a pillow from his bed once and it's still here for some reason. The entire place is painfully theirs, everyone contributing to it being what it is now.

"Alright," Ava says as soon as the two of you walk closer to the balcony, crossing her arms across her chest. "What is it?"

You scoff at her question. "Really?"

Ava clearly doesn't like your demeanor, getting more and more defensive, frowning slightly. "I just don't know what there is to talk about, to be honest."

"There's everything to talk about!" you correct with obvious exasperation. "Do you have any idea how confusing it is to see you act so normal about...about everything?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Are you having a hard time?"

There's a brief silence between you. You look back at her with evident conflict, feeling a knot tightening at the pit of your stomach. Ava looks extremely upset– exactly the face you were expecting to see after all these weeks of receiving absolutely nothing from her.

"I just don't understand why you don’t talk to me about how you feel."

Ava avoids looking at you now, eyes glued to her boots as she starts to mindlessly pace around the rooftop. "Because I knew it wouldn't have made a difference," she replies, almost cryptically, a weak smile adorning her lips. "I mean, I wanted to talk to you– truly, I did, but then I realized." She pauses just briefly, almost hesitating to admit what she's thinking about out loud before continuing. "I realized the way you look at him."

The comment has a far bigger effect on you than you would've ever imagined. It's particularly difficult to hear it when Ava looks so...peacefully defeated by it. Like she has come to terms with it.

"As soon as I saw that, I knew I had to stay quiet," she continues, her weak smile never fading. "I can tell Bucky cares about you a lot. You deserve to be with someone like that– someone who doesn't run away when things get too overwhelming. Someone who gives you a lot more than what I can offer."

"Please, don't tell me what I deserve," you say almost immediately. It's a nice sentiment, but you hate to hear it. "I'm the one who should decide that."

"Haven't you already made that choice?"

You get even more upset, letting out a tired sigh at Ava's inability (or perhaps reluctance) to understand just how cruel her silence has been.

"All this time, I thought you didn't care. I just assumed whatever we had was meaningless to you and that it didn't matter if I moved on."

She doesn't say anything at first, simply looking back at you. Smile fading, frown reappearing. Perhaps the gravity of her behavior is just starting to sink in. The idea of her possibly being chosen by you, flaws and everything, until she decided to walk away like many times before.

"How could you–?" she tries, voice breaking slightly at the end, feeling extremely vulnerable at this point. "How could you think that?"

"Because that's what you showed me, Ava! I can't read your mind. You didn't talk to me."

"And why didn't you talk to me?" Ava's voice sounds more desperate now, pointing a finger at you and then to herself to emphasize her words. "I just stood there and watched as you and him got closer and closer, and I had no idea what was going on," she continues, visibly shaken up, finally letting out all of her pent up emotion. "I watched him hugging you. I've heard the two of you laughing together. I’ve had to deal with everyone in the team cracking silly little jokes about the two of you. I noticed you look at him like nothing else in the room exists. And all I could do was watch."

Another silence. Ava is taking a seat on her designated recliner, hands covering her face as she lets out an exasperated sigh, not anticipating she would get this emotional. You stand in the same spot you’ve been the entire time, but as soon as you hear Ava quietly sobbing, you immediately walk up to her.

"I believe we can agree we both have trouble communicating," you start in a soft voice, kneeling to be closer to her height now that she's sitting. "I'm sorry."

Your heart sinks when Ava dares to look at you, revealing her teary eyes. "I'm sorry too," she whispers weakly, feeling incredibly vulnerable right now. She stays completely still as the girl in front of her delicately wipes her tears away. "I really don't want you to think that what we had didn't mean anything to me. It meant everything."

"I know," you reply, trying to comfort her in any way possible. She shouldn't torture herself about it right now.

Before she can stop herself, Ava is reaching for your hand, giving it a light squeeze while offering a sad smile. "I really want you to find the happiness you deserve, you know? Even if it’s not with me by your side."

It's impossible to try to come up with an answer to that right now, too overwhelmed and confused to think. Could you truly be happy if that means never exploring your connection again? It doesn't feel quite right when you try to imagine it.

Before you can say anything, Ava finishes wiping her tears away all by herself. "I'd like to be alone now, if that's okay," she says in a soft voice, showing how distraught she is.

As much as you would like to stay, maybe keep talking about the situation until you reach some sort of conclusion together, you can tell Ava is emotionally exhausted right now. The amount of sharing she has done right now is more than enough, especially considering that it's been very difficult to get her to open up in the past without her completely closing off.

"Okay," you nod, right before standing up from the ground to head back to the main floor.

You’re standing all alone inside the elevator, feeling the knot in your stomach tightening as you try to hold back your tears. You feel completely lost now, knowing whatever you choose won't keep you truly satisfied. You don't want to let go of Ava, but it'll crush you to have to end what you just discovered with Bucky.

Your guilt is eating you alive, and it's getting more and more difficult not to burst out crying. How could you be so selfish? How did you allow this to happen? Ava doesn't deserve it. Bucky doesn't deserve it. And you certainly don't deserve them.

After that emotional encounter, you spent most of the afternoon locked inside your room, away from everyone. You were in dying need of some alone time to think and truly process your feelings. You know you’ll have to make a decision, heart shattering into a million pieces at the idea of losing one of them.

The rest of the group quickly started to notice your sudden absence, starting to get increasingly concerned.

"Is she really not gonna come down?" John asks the entire group as they all gather around the dining table.

"Perhaps she's ill?" Alexei guesses with evident concern, shrugging. "Although I talked to her this morning and she seemed fine."

"Yeah, we were training today and she seemed fine," Yelena chimes in. "A bit out of it, maybe. But overall fine."

Bob briefly points at the untouched box of chinese takeout near him on top of the table. "I can go upstairs and check on her. See if she wants something to eat."

While everyone voices their concern regarding their friend, Ava quietly eats her fried rice as she avoids joining the conversation. From the opposite side of the table, Bucky watches her cautiously, finding her silence a bit strange. She's not exactly the most talkative person in the group, but she’s not this quiet either. 

"I can go," Bucky says rather suddenly. As soon as he speaks, Ava looks up at him, only to immediately look back at her food when she notices his analyzing gaze upon her already.

Bob quickly hands him the box containing your food, before closing another extra box for him to take upstairs. "I saved her a few dumplings too," he says with a soft smile, silently hoping that little gesture might make you feel better in case you need it.

Bucky grabs the boxes before heading to the elevator, making his way to your bedroom. He could see a faint light from under the door, indicating you’re probably still awake.

"Hey," he says cautiously, hearing no response. "Is it okay if I come in?"

Nothing. Just silence.

"Everyone's worried about you," he tries again. "Please. I just want to make sure you're okay."

For a second he thought you weren’t going to say or do anything, but he's gladly surprised when you finally opened the door. He takes note of how you look, immediately noticing your puffy red eyes and vacant expression.

"What happened?"

Instead of answering, you just wrap your arms around his torso for a much needed hug. He doesn't know what to do at first, holding a box of chinese takeout in each hand.

"It's been a very shitty day," you simply say after a few seconds of you just hugging in silence, moving back and towards your bed as Bucky walks further inside your room.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You hesitate at first, shrugging lightly. "You're going to hate me," you reply, still being painfully vague about the entire situation.

"I highly doubt it," Bucky comments with a smile, trying to ease the evident tension that surrounds the entire interaction. Contributing further to it, he hints at the two boxes. "Here's your food. Bob saved you a few dumplings."

You immediately smile at that, appreciating your friend's gesture. It's particularly nice considering last time they ordered chinese, you shared your adoration for dumplings with Bob. It was really just a random comment, but it looks like Bob remembered it.

Bucky takes a seat on your bed, right next to you. "Talk to me."

You have no idea how to even begin to express the complex web of thoughts that have been running through your mind the entire afternoon. How could you even express how you feel without hurting his feelings? How are you supposed to explain you have feelings for Ava and him without sounding like a selfish prick who can't seem to choose between them?

Then, suddenly, Bucky speaks again. "Does it have something to do with Ava?"

You don't reply– not verbally, at least, but Bucky's suspicions are immediately answered by your expression. A mixture of surprise and guilt, not expecting him to bring her into the conversation.

Bucky smiles again, unsure on how to approach this topic. "I've noticed a few things...I wasn't sure, though. But if it helps to ease your mind, I don't...I mean, I don't really mind."

You can't take it anymore, eyes filling with tears as you shake your head. "I feel awful," you mutter. "You don't deserve this. I can't believe I've been so selfish. I'm really sorry for creating all of this mess and dragging you into this."

"You didn't drag me into anything," he quickly replies, wrapping an arm around you in order to comfort you. "And you don't need to feel sorry. You did nothing wrong."

"But I did," you argue, a fake and ironic smile on your face as a few tears start to stream down your cheeks. "I should've been more considerate of yours and Ava's feelings. I should've been more considerate of my own feelings too, instead of ignoring what was going on."

You take a much needed pause, trying to control your breathing as more tears trail down your face, barely able to face Bucky, feeling way too ashamed to do so.

"I really do like you, Bucky. I like you so much, it's actually starting to scare me," you whisper, but Bucky can't exactly focus on your endearing words when you look so broken. "I shouldn't have been so selfish to allow us to develop more than a friendship when my feelings for Ava– as confusing as they might be, are very much there still."

He takes a second to think about your statement, not exactly knowing what to think. "So...you regret what we have?"

"No, of course not!" you quickly reply, moving back to properly look at him. It’s already crushing you, but you know the best decision would be to establish some distance if you want to truly clear your head and figure out your feelings. "I like you and I like what we have...but I can't ignore what I feel for Ava. I think I still have to figure out where she and I stand, and I don't think it's fair to put you through that."

Bucky is once again quiet, which only makes you increasingly more nervous. Silence is the worst answer. You would much rather watch him get upset and say something back at you.

What comes out of his mouth next truly shocks you. "I don't mind that you have feelings for her."

"What?" is all you could muster, beyond confusion.

"I mean, your feelings for her don't immediately invalidate your feelings for me, right?" he says, trying yet again to approach the topic very cautiously. "I don't think you're obligated to choose."

He couldn't possibly be implying...

No. Not a chance. He can't be.

But is he?

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

Bucky offers you an awkward smile. "I guess I'm just trying to say that I don’t mind being with you if you want to figure things out with Ava at the same time," he says with a light shrug.

He really is implying it!

You would've never imagined Bucky would say this. Not in a million years. You never even considered it to be a possibility. 

The only option you had ever considered was choosing, but you never stopped to think if there was a way that the three of you could make this work. The more you familiarize yourself with the idea, the more it helps to ease your inner discomfort. Perhaps part of the problem with choosing was that, deep down, you really didn't want to choose.

Not choosing makes sense. It feels right. If Ava is open to this idea, this might actually work out.

"Only if you feel comfortable with that," Bucky clarifies shortly after, because you’ve been quiet for way too long. "If it's not, I'll understand we need to take a step back from this."

You snap out of your thoughts, wiping the last few tears away. "No– it’s just…I was just thinking about what you said," you explain your sudden silence. "I actually think I'd like to explore that idea." You can’t help but smile at the mere thought of being able to freely explore your connections with the two of them without being forced to choose.

Bucky smiles back at you, reaching for your hand. "Really?"

"Really," you reply, inching closer until you’re practically on top of him, letting out a soft giggle when Bucky is fully pulling you into his lap. "I'll have to talk to Ava about it, though."

"Sure.".

There's a brief pause, and you’re unable to hold yourself back from inquiring further about this topic. "Where did this even come from?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck as you get more comfortable sitting on his lap.

Bucky shrugs. "I don't know. It just makes sense to me, I guess."

You nod, the answer seemingly enough for you. It makes sense to you too now that you have thought about it. Perhaps there’s not really much to explain when the idea simply makes sense.

Without really thinking much about it, he moves your hair to the side, just enough to expose more of his neck to him. He starts caressing the side of your face with his fingers before leaning closer, placing a few tender kisses on the side of your neck, trailing up to your jaw before finally meeting your lips. You return the kiss almost immediately, feeling the familiar butterflies you get whenever he’s around, smiling as soon as you break apart.

Bucky places a quick kiss on your forehead before speaking again. "You should eat."

"Can't I stay here on your lap a little longer?"

It’s the way you say it that has Bucky grinning, shaking his head as you giggle at his reaction. "Don't," is all he says about that, giving you a gentle pat on your upper thigh as a silent way of telling you that you should stand up. Just as you’re about to argue, he pats your thigh again.

You finally do as told, standing up to grab one of the boxes and the chopsticks to begin eating. Bucky gives you another short kiss on top of your head before leaving the room, immediately in the search for Ava.

Downstairs, he could hear the thundering laughter of Alexei even before he reached the dining room. The atmosphere around the table is cheerful. It's been a few months since Valentina’s announcement, and the group starts to feel more and more like a family. But Bucky still struggles to comprehend how he went from living in an empty apartment in D.C., to the Avengers Tower surrounded by people he would've never imagined he would learn to care for so much– and that they would care so much about him too.

"How is she?" Yelena asks as soon as she notices Bucky. The entire table stays quiet as they turn to look at him for updates. "I hope she’s not up there you did something wrong, because I swear I’ll kick your ass if you don’t behave."

He immediately throws both hands up. "I didn’t do anything. Relax."

"So the relationship is going well?" John asks, more as a way to tease his friend rather than to genuinely ask the question.

"Yeah, it’s pretty good."

"You two are a wonderful couple!" Alexei exclaims, genuinely happy that two of his best friends and teammates are together. "You know, I sensed there was something going on between you from day one."

John sighs. "So you have said every chance you get."

"No, but it’s true," Bob intervenes. "You two are very cute together."

Bucky doesn’t really know what to say, feeling a bit uncomfortable for having all the attention on him. "Thanks guys."

Yelena can only roll her eyes at the exchange. "We get it. Romance is awesome or whatever," she adds, not really caring much about it at all, wanting to go back to the original topic. "How is she?"

"She's okay. Just feeling a little exhausted," is all Bucky would share for now. The team seems satisfied with the answer, although Yelena does give him a warning look before they all resume their previous conversation.

Bucky notices Ava is still staring at him, trying to decipher if he knows more about the situation. It's clear to her that he does, as soon as she watches him shortly tilting his head to the side, hinting for her to follow him.

The group barely acknowledges what is going on, too focused on their rant about infamous movies they should definitely watch tonight. Ava stands up from her seat, following Bucky to a small lounge room nearby, away from the rest.

"What happened?" she asks, sounding incredibly defensive like she did earlier with you.

"I think you two should talk."

"Did she tell you anything?"

Bucky gives her a soft smile. "I know enough to understand you two should talk."

Ava finds this extremely confusing, squinting her eyes at him. Why is he deciding to offer his opinion on the matter? Even when she hates to admit it, the gesture is almost upsetting. You’re drifting away from her because of him. Sure, Ava hasn't been the best at handling your previous relationship– you weren't exactly perfect either, but if Bucky wasn't in the picture...perhaps you two could've figured it out by now.

She hates to think of her friend as an obstacle that stands between her and the literal woman of her dreams. It's also very conflicting, because she cares for him enough to also wish him happiness, even if it means she has to let go of you in order for him to achieve it.

"Why are you doing this? Why would you talk to me about it?"

"Because I care about her. And I also care about you. I don't want either of you to be hurting."

"But you must be feeling at least a little conflicted," she insists, not understanding how he could be so incredibly okay about this entire dynamic. "I mean...we both have feelings for her."

"Yeah, I don't really see that as a competition."

Ava frowns almost immediately. "Rude."

Bucky chuckles softly at her reaction. "That's not what I meant."

She appreciates that he’s somehow trying to lighten the mood, deciding to contribute to it. "Good, because clearly I'm a far greater catch than you."

"I wouldn't go that far," he replies, making her smile. "But really, what I meant to say is that I don't think she has to choose between us."

Ava is definitely more confused now. His last statement sounded almost like a cryptic invitation and she wasn't quite sure how to feel about it.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asks, having the idea very much present in her head, but still needing further confirmation that he really is implying such a thing.

But Bucky doesn't say anything else regarding that, and instead just reminds her, "You should talk to her."

Needless to say, Ava is immediately making her way upstairs to your bedroom for a much needed clarification on what is genuinely going on, glad to see the door half-open.

"Can I come in?" she asks before even peeking inside.

"Sure," you reply from inside. Ava walks inside the bedroom, noticing the empty boxes of the chinese takeout on top of your desk. You were probably starving after being locked up here in your room, immediately feeling even more guilty because your conversation is the reason why you decided to do that in the first place.

You’re laying on your bed, immediately standing up when Ava walks in. The little notebook in which you were previously sketching is quickly placed on your nightstand. "Would you like to sit down?"

You offer her to sit on the bed, but Ava is still feeling a little too cautious, so she chooses to sit on the chair by your desk instead. Pérhaps her fears are unjustified, but she can't shake the bad feeling that things between you might end for good tonight. Perhaps that would explain why Bucky seemed to be so calmed about this situation. Perhaps he knows you'll choose him anyway.

You take note of Ava’s behavior, your mind completely blank now, even after spending minutes rehearsing a speech to properly approach this situation. You don't remember a single word of it.

All you decide to do for now is apologize once again. "I'm so sorry about the way our conversation ended."

"You have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t handle it well either. I think we both need to work on our communication skills."

"Yeah, and I'd really like for us to communicate right now."

A brief pause. You’re trying to figure out if Ava is really up to that, while also trying to control your growing nerves. Ava notices your analyzing eyes on her, nodding. "Alright, then. Let's communicate."

"Okay, so...I had a conversation with Bucky."

There it is. Ava feels as if a bucket of ice cold water has been pulled over her head. She should've known better than to admit something was going on with her. She should've stayed quiet and allowed you and Bucky to build your relationship in peace while she suffered about it in silence. In her head, it's a much better destiny than having to sit in front of you while she hears you say exactly why you prefer Bucky over her– oh, and Bucky...how deeply she's despising him right now...

But she tries to calm herself down as soon as that avalanche of thoughts starts to invade her mind, fully aware that it comes from a place of fear, causing her to feel that sudden urge to run away again. The same urge that cost her losing you in the first place. It’s the worst possible way of dealing with her emotions.

Deep down, she knows she needs to get some sort of closure regarding this relationship. Having the opportunity to hear you and to be heard by you until there's nothing left unsaid. Perhaps that's the only way to truly move on from what you had and maybe (in time) learn to be friends.

And Bucky...how could she possibly begin to despise someone like Bucky? She's grateful to have a friend like him.

"Yes..." is all Ava has to say at the moment.

"And I– I think that conversation changed my entire perspective," you continue. For once, Ava feels more hopeful about the outcome. "I was really conflicted about having to choose because I care so much about both of you. And after talking with Bucky, I realized that maybe I don't necessarily have to choose. And not choosing shouldn't be a bad thing...if the three of us agree it isn't."

Oh, Bucky was really implying what she thought he did earlier.

Is it a bad thing? The idea doesn't sound too bad if Ava truly thinks about it. She wants to figure things out with you, just as much as she wants the two of you to have the chance to continue your relationship. Is it really impossible for two different people to have such a strong connection with the same person? And for that person to feel connected with both? One bond doesn’t necessarily cancel out the other one.

But still, is something new to her that she hasn't really thought about before. She hasn't stopped to think if it'll suit her and her relationships. 

"So...what you're basically suggesting is for us to try to work things out, while you continue dating Bucky."

You look almost embarrassed, even when you shouldn't feel like that. It's just part of communicating. If Ava says she doesn't feel up to it, you can talk it out and figure out what works for everybody.

"Yes, that's...I guess that's what I'm trying to say."

"And Bucky has already said that he's okay with that?"

"Yes."

"And you are okay with that?"

"...yes."

"And now you're asking me if I'm okay with that?"

"Ava."

"Alright, I’m sorry! It's just...I never really considered it. I've never been in this kind of situation."

"It's new to me too. It kind of makes sense to me, so I'm open to giving it a try. Maybe it turns out it doesn't work, but right now I feel like it could, and I'd like to explore that with you guys," you add. "Like the kind of risks you have to face in any kind of relationship."

Thinking about it for a moment, that statement it’s very much true. Why should this be any different than the risks and compromises you make in a monogamous relationship? Or even a relationship with a friend or a family member. It’s all about listening to the other person and compromising where you can for them. If the three of you manage to communicate and put your efforts into making it work, who says it won't actually work out?

"I guess we can give it a try," she finally says, choosing to take that risk rather than run away again. She’s willing to take the risk for you and your relationship. "Perhaps it might work."

"It could work," you say, a big smile on your face, unable to stop thinking how incredibly right this feels.

Ava is at a loss of words at first, looking down at the floor with obvious embarrassment. "So this means– like are we–" she tries, hating the way she's practically stuttering like a nervous wreck. "Does this mean we’ll get our second chance?"

"I'd really like that."

Once again, she has no idea what to say, choosing to crack a joke to ease her emotions. "Well, it's probably like the hundredth chance," she comments, standing up from the chair.

You laugh, standing up from your seat as well. "I didn't want to say it, but..."

Ava scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes. "Oh, shut up!"

"Hey, you brought it up!"

The two of you stand right in front of one another, staring into each other’s eyes in complete silence. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it’s evident that there’s some tension growing the more you look at each other. An unspoken thing between you that it’s practically impossible to ignore.

Before she can regret her impulses, Ava takes a step forward to close the space separating you, grabbing your face to bring you in for a much awaited kiss. It’s intense, passionate and incredibly desperate. It’s evident in the way you hold each other. It’s a kiss that you both have been craving for a long time, not sure if you would ever get the chance to satisfy that need.

All you can do after pulling back is to grin back at each other like fools. You let out a soft, nervous giggle before wrapping your arms around Ava’s shoulders. The other woman returns the hug almost immediately, resting her head on your shoulder as she lets out a sigh of contentment. "I missed being like this with you."

"I missed it too," you whisper. "I missed you."

Ava’s heart almost melts at that, feeling like the happiest person in the entire world. "I missed you." It feels so incredibly nice to feel like your dynamic is going back to what it used to be. After parting ways for what she thought was forever, she couldn’t help but feel an invisible barrier between you when you two were forced to reunite again back in that desert– the one that you always felt whenever you started your vicious cycle over and over again. Now, it’s as if that barrier completely disappeared, feeling the familiar comfort only you can bring into her life– for once, neither of you fear that the barrier might come back.

"Can we go to the kitchen? I feel like I need to seriously hydrate myself after crying so much today."

"I'm sorry I made you cry," Ava mutters, still holding tight onto your body. It's adorable how clingy she can be sometimes. You absolutely adore it.

"It wasn't your fault."

Ava lets out a soft sound as a complaint when she feels you trying to break the hug. "Should we go to the elevator exactly like this? I don't want to let go just yet."

"Oh, so you’re feeling extra clingy now, huh?"

She lets go as soon as she hears that you’re making fun of her. "Nevermind."

Unable to contain your laughter, you grab Ava by the arm to prevent her from walking away, pulling her back in for yet another kiss, this one much shorter than the other. "And extra grumpy, apparently."

Ava rolls her eyes again, hating to be mocked and hating that you enjoy it so much, moving once again away from you to start heading outside the bedroom. You grab the empty boxes of take out before both of you walk out into the hallway, briefly chatting about an upcoming mission you have in a few weeks together while you take the elevator to the floor below where all the common areas are.

"Ah, you’re alive!" Alexei shouts excitedly as soon as he sees the pair walking past the living room area. "We thought you wouldn't come out of your room all night."

"Are you feeling better?" Yelena asks now. Apparently, they're all getting ready to watch a movie together. That would explain why everyone is already in their pajamas, a blanket for each of them, and two large bowls of popcorn on top of the coffee table. You smile at her and nod, appreciating her concern.

"We're about to watch The Shining, if you want to join," Bob offers the two of you.

"You don't want to miss Alexei getting scared every two seconds," John jokes.

"Movies look too real!"

"And you're also way too dramatic, dad!"

"I could join you, but I need to get some water first."

"We'll be right back," Ava says this time, both of you continuing your walk to the kitchen.

Inside you meet Bucky, who's apparently waiting for the last package of microwave popcorn to be ready. He greets the two of you, glad to notice you seem to be on good terms now.

"Did you guys have a chance to talk?"

"Yup," Ava replies, leaning back against a counter while you pour yourself a large cup filled with cold water from the fridge. "Your girlfriend is also my girlfriend now, Barnes."

"Girlfriend, huh?" you comment with a smirk, turning to look at both of them. You weren’t sure if Ava would be comfortable using that term, but you’re glad to realize she might be.

"You know what I mean," she replies almost immediately, avoiding making eye contact with either of you.

"I'm glad you were able to talk and resolve things between you."

Ava looks at Bucky now, crossing her arms across her chest with a soft grin on her face. "You know, it still amazes me that out of all three, you were the one to suggest this dynamic."

"Why, because I'm over a hundred years old?"

"Well…yes."

Bucky lets out a quick laugh. "That's like thinking gay people didn't exist before the 2000s," he points out.

Ava doesn't say anything back, simply raising both of her hands up. "I guess you’re right."

Bucky gets the popcorn in a bowl, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek as he walks past you before heading outside the kitchen. You get your cup of water ready before you follow after him, joining the rest of the group.

"Please, try not to scream so much. You might actually give me a heart attack this time," Yelena warns Alexei, just as she’s moving from her seat on the large couch to give the others space to sit down as well. Meanwhile, John and Bob were sitting in a pair of armchairs, one at each side of the couch.

"If you don't want me to get scared, don't pick scary movies."

"This isn't even scary," John points out immediately after. "We'll let you pick one next week."

The remaining three sit down next to Yelena and Alexei. The movie starts, the entire room only illuminated by the large screen before you. You don’t wait before grabbing a bowl of popcorn from the table before you. Before you could eat any though, Ava reaches to grab a handful of them, smiling playfully as she does so. "Thank you," she whispers, filling her mouth with the sweet treat.

As you lay back, Bucky's arm resting on the couch behind you and Ava resting her hand on your thigh underneath the blankets, you couldn't possibly be more sure on your decision. It makes perfect sense. Not choosing makes perfect sense.

They make perfect sense.

[storkmuffin]

It is I, the racehorse.

I am considering going off anon, but you might be disappointed. I use Tumblr to observe and contemplate life, so my blog is pretty bland. You, however, made the mistake of saying you want to hear more of my thoughts, so prepare to be sick of me.

Today's thoughts are about culture and language. And Mingi. But mostly culture and language.

Now, I am self-aware. I have no substantial understanding of Korean culture or language. However, I’ve been into K-pop long enough to watch the reality content ATEEZ puts out without really getting confused. Sure, there are moments where I have no idea what anyone is talking about, but for the most part, I follow along. I don’t get the pop culture references or most of the jokes, but I do my best. I accept what is happening, without necessarily understanding everything that is happening. I'm a simple woman—when attractive man laugh, I laugh.

I'm going to say a little anecdote before getting into it. But essentially, a very common exercise in Greek high schools is getting a short sentence prompt and writing 100 to 250 words elaborating on it. I have a vivid memory of getting the prompt: “the ways in which conformism has affected Greek society,” reading “conformism” as “Confucianism,” and just blankly staring at the paper for a good fifteen minutes. Because it just... hasn’t.

So when you go into a new piece of media with the mindset that it’s from a culture your own has had little to no direct contact with, you find there are very few things that actually surprise you. Mostly, because you have no expectations.

But then I read your post saying that Mingi, in a social sense, isn't super likeable and I was genuinely surprised. He doesn’t have the same desperate-to-be-liked energy Yunho has, sure, but I personally wouldn’t go as far as calling him unlikeable. I don’t need to be fluent in Korean to clock that the dude's quirky, but I’ve never doubted his social skills. If anything, his behavior reads as the most standard to me—and I mean “standard” as in familiar. He’s straightforward, but he’s never said anything that made me think, wow, maybe sugarcoat that next time. Honestly, he’s the member I find myself agreeing with the most.

And it's so bizarre to me, because ateez will have these moments when Mingi will say something, and they'll all kind of look at each other and go, oh well, Mingi's being weird again, all the while I'm yelling at my phone screen like my favourite football team just missed the easiest goal know to man, because what do you mean by that? WHAT DID HE SAY THAT WAS WEIRD? I'M NOT ANGRY, I'M GENUINELY CURIOUS?!?!

So my question is this: if Mingi’s behavior isn’t considered typical, then who is the member that best embodies what’s considered proper social behavior by Korean standards?

Hello Racehorse, my golden greek darling.

TLDR for what I'm about to say - in descending order, the proper behavior winners are San -> Hongjoong -> Yunho -> Seonghwa -> Yeosang -> Wooyoung -> Jongho -> Mingi.

Before everyone comes to Mingi's defense - I'm not saying that this is how it should be, or that there's anything objectively wrong with what Mingi does or says. It's just that he (intentionaly!! by the way!!) won't toe the correct lines.

Now to get into the nitty gritty:

A mutual by chance reblogged this gifset right after I opened your ask, which I have in turn reblogged for you here so you can get the full context for this gif I am reposting from tumblr user wooyoungs

In the footage that was gif'ed, they're asked what the group's goals are for the future.

Mingi says, World Domination.

This happens next:

Look at how they're reacting, and you have the answer to your question.

Mingi said what he said. He won't put his answer sheet down in the face of vociferous objection. I see this as both the cool rapper swagger but also kind of a statement of principle for who Mingi seems to me to be as a person. Why bother doing anything if you're not going to try to be the best at it? He and the others got into the Idol industry because they saw BTS become world dominant. Why not aim for that? Why put up with the difficult training, the demanding fans, the lack of the normal comforts of anonymous life, if you're not going to be world best? But see, saying that out loud, I got into this to become a world dominant star isn't gentle, humble humility. That's not a nice Korean boy Idol answer. Appearing arrogant and overly self assured is death in our culture, and especially for Idols.

To his left is Jongho, who by accident is the maknae of this group and doesn't want to do any maknae shit, so he just doesn't most of the time. He also is in a group that does a lot of enthusiastic (let's just use that word) BL fan service and absolutely refuses to do any of that either. So when Mingi says what he says, Jongho is like, Well he said it not me. He doesn't aver, and he doesn't try to assist by offering a protective explanation. This isn't the ideal.

Yeosang, when he can't have a nice reaction, doesn't react at all. He's opted himself out of this discourse. This isn't the ideal either. If you did this sort of thing in the more socially conservative setting in which I was raised and live, someone would yell at Yeosang to not just sit there and say something!

Wooyoung is also just interested in this thing Mingi said, and interested in the others' adverse reactions, but he's like, That dude doesn't speak for me, I can leave any time. This isn't the ideal.

The ideal reactors are Yunho, Seonghwa, San and Hongjoong.

From what Hongjoong has scribbled , he's written like 2070 or something so that meant, I would guess, Be the active band Ateez until 2070! (Until they die basically). This is the correct fanservice answer, to promise devotion and fanservice unto death.

He and San point at the problem (Mingi) to launch criticism at him.

Seonghwa is so distressed he starts rocking back and forth. He can't even talk. He has to grip his own knees for stability.

The only person who loves Mingi, even in this moment, is Yunho. So he doesn't point or yell at Mingi. He tries to speak for him. He waves a denial, to say, He didn't mean it in the terrible arrogant way it sounds! He smiles at the staff to try to lighten the mood, and also to ask for help (none is forthcoming). He also tilts his head cutely to address Mingi, while smiling, to try to coax him off the ledge. These are all ideal behaviors for when someone has said a thing that nobody else can accept.

Mingi still said what he said, however. LOL. (His insisting on this in spite of it all finally gets Yeosang's attention hahaha).

I hope this helped?

[horny-marbles]

hi kim it’s me tiv on the art account 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

question for ya as the #1 ej fan (my bad if you’ve answered this before) what are your thoughts on how he sees? like is your ej blind? thermal vision? or does he just like see normally bc fuck it demon logic

OMG heyyy tiv teehee, the crossover lol. also ME??? i need to screenshot this and frame it tbh. OK CUE RANT SORRY IN ADVANCE I CANT BE NORMAL AND CASUAL ABOUT EJ

dude so imma be 100% real, i don't like applying random ass demon logic to jack because it takes away from that liiitle element of humanity and relatability i guess. to me, he's an unfortunate dude that was robbed of his life and has to survive somehow, still demonic don't get me wrong, but he's not some eldritch bloodthirsty underlord that lurks at your window ready to get your ass. and it's lowkey a lazy way to excuse tropes and nsfw details tbh—which is fine btw, it's not that deep and everyone's allowed to have their own thoughts obviously!! but i just like my characters to feel as visceral as they can in their respective universes lol

so, imo he's completely blind. doesn't even perceive light or shadow, much less color or shape, because i mean... the peepers were scooped out and if there were any optical nerves somehow alive after that, they were completely fried when he had tar poured in them bitches.

ignoring the post i made about him somehow growing an extra dick (because it makes no actual realistic sense and im just horny lol), i think there's only so much a mutation can really do to heal him, i guess? i hc his transformation to have been a super slow and fucking horrid process, super biologically driven and actually somewhat realistic (because i HATEEEEE JWKSPQKDKDNS FUCKING HATE THE "and he woke up... and now he's magically a demon... and he had no recollection of disemboweling an entire cult..." shut the fuck up like actually), so i think the body just didn't find enough healthy nerve endings to help regenerate his eyes and it just compensated by enhancing his other senses.

now as for how he gets around, a combination of smell, hearing and some crazy ass environmental/spacial awareness—feeling the presence of objects around him once he's close enough and feeling his own positioning in space if that makes sense. plus some other more animal traits like a very well developed sense of direction, feeling changes in air pressure (like before a storm, or the difference between outside vs inside) idk if that even makes sense lol IT MAKES SENSE IN MY HEAD!!

i feel like at the beginning, for a long while, he constantly tripped and walked nose first into trees and walls (literally why i hc him with a crooked nose lmfao) and just... a mess. accidentally walking into the highway and becoming an urban legend around town aside from already being a red notice lol. because it must've been real fucking confusing to go from sight to this insanely overwhelming hyper-sensitivity to everything else, right?

...also if i sometimes write something about him looking at anything no i don't ❤️

[stellargh0ul]

sound like red

Unprompted 500 word drabble of reader sounding Copia. Highly NSFW.

he sings for you. his voice onstage is for everyone, drawing them in and bringing them to the ministry and his message, drawing them to your Lord-

but as you push the new rod into place and hear him howl at the stretch, you know that this voice is the one he reserves only for you to hear.

the voice wrecked with pleasure. the voice so utterly debauched that you can’t help but blush even though you’re the one doing this to him, drawing out of him like the most beautiful song in the world. 

“we’re only halfway,” you tell him, and it’s the truth. you’re only halfway through the set of sounding rods that you have set out on the bed next to you, each one slightly larger than the last. you’re working him up to the largest size, but it’s taken at least two hours to get his far- you keep getting distracted.

like you are now, grabbing for the wand that sits nearby on the bed. he looks at you in fucked-out bliss and quietly begs in light italian as english has long since escaped him.

“mercy,” he asks for, but that isn’t your safeword.

you press the head of the wand to the tip of the sounding rod that still emerges from his length and turn it on, vibrating the stainless steel that spears him deep.

he can’t even scream anymore, his voice hoarse, but he tries. Copia babbles out promises and assurances that he’ll be good, telling you he’ll do anything and everything if only you’d have mercy on him, please, please-

he can’t cum like this, not with the rod vibrating inside him, and you smile down not unkindly at the man going to pieces across your lap.

“that doesn’t sound like ‘red’,” you tell him, and use your free hand to turn on the remote to the vibrating toy pressed deep inside of him.

Copia jerks his head, thrashing on the bed, and you have to steady yourself to keep from bobbing over. he narrowly misses you with a limb and you ‘tsk’ in the back of your throat, turning the vibrator up in revenge.

there are tears starting to fall down as his cheeks as his cries get louder and louder once more.

“I should have tied you down,” you muse to yourself, barely paying him any attention. you can hardly hear the hum of the bullet in his ass but he must be feeling it as his hips twitch and jerk every few seconds. “nearly tossed me off the bed.”

he’s incoherent at this point, in no shape to respond to your gentle teasing.

you decide to give him a moment to breathe and turn both vibrators off and the moment they power down he slams back into awareness, half-eyes opening to latch onto you once more.

“I can’t take another,” he tells you. you hum in the back of your throat, grabbing the lube.

“that doesn’t sound like red either.”

[whydoihave]

Moon's Starless Reviews

Pitbabe S2 E4

I am going to explode

I AM GOING TO EXPLODE!!!

We are officially on a collusion course with practically everyone... YAY

LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS

- Babe: I Like the constant reminder that Babe cannot handle Charlie getting hurt or the mere fear of losing him once again, it's needed because we can so easily forget that in the haste of everything happening... I want them to be sweet and remain sweet... and What was that again? MAMA WANNA GET MARRIED ??!! Why he hadn't asked him already then ??!!

Charlie: Oh Boy... OH BOY!! MY BABY BOY IS UP TO HIS NECK IN PROBLEMS AND HE IS NOT EVEN AWARE OF IT, And it's not just his fears, it's his body and powers turning against him, the nightmarish experiment and what might happen if they continued with it.

Jeff & Alan (because I wanted to bite both): I was angry at Alan till he asked Jeff if he knew what he was angry about because even I truly didn't understand what Alan was angry about... but my dear Uncle did he have to tell you he saw both of your future and it won't last for you to get your ducks in a row?!!! WHAT GIVES UNCLE??!!

IF STUDIO CHANGE PLAN ON KILLING ONE OF THOSE TWO I WILL BITE SOMEONE'S HEAD OFF...

Now Now... to the things that gets the blood racing...

Chris & Pete (for the mere fact that Pete's reaction to Chris is very... interesting...): Did someone else get the idea that something is wrong with Pete? LIKE HE WAS NOT FULLY IN CONTROL, BECAUSE FOR A BIT THERE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS "HYPNOTIZED", I will elaborate on that later because I happen to have a theory.

Kim & Kenta (Good God I wanted to scream) : Kim speaking so loudly yet so softly, dragging Kenta around because god forbid he lets him go on his own, Kim holding Kenta back when he thought Chris was Way.

PLEASE GIVE ME MORE, SO MUCH MORE...

Winner: My god he is so messed up I won't be suprised with anything he does from now on.

Willy: I am still convinced he has his agenda.... that he is not Tony sent... his actions speaks of personal obsession not just a mission...

All in all... Wow... Like really Wow...I have like at least 3 theories because of that episode.

What I am worried about though is not the evilness or the villains, I am rather worried about the good intentions that would lead to hell... or in our case Tony.

[brainwasheddd]

The Outsiders Neurodivergent Headcanons

Warnings: abuse, suicide, sorta drug abuse?

Ponyboy:

✮ audhd

✮ Modern AU once he gets medication he’s like “huh so this is how you’re supposed to function”

✮ Was started on Adderall at first but they forced him to go off it because he started using it to stay up for hours writing or doing schoolwork

✮ Now on a non-stimulant adhd med that helps him think more clearly and forget things less

✮ Had a really hard time with eye contact as a kid so his parents started making him remember the colors of people’s eyes so he’d have to look in them (inspired by a jaidenanimations video I’m pretty sure. Don’t ask which one I watched it years ago and don’t remember)

✮ Still takes note of people’s eye color even though no one quizzes him anymore. Someone will ask what color so-and-so’s eyes are and he can just tell them instantly

✮ When he’s having a sensory overload smoking helps because he’s able to focus on one smell, and breathing in the smoke calms his hyperventilating

✮ Special interest in Paul Newman movies. He can tell you every single fact about every single movie that man was in

✮ Hyperfixates on books and rereads them until he’s drained all the serotonin out of them before moving on. RIP Ponyboy you would’ve loved AO3

✮ Extremely bad time blindness. Modern AU he has an alarm for every hour on his phone so he doesn’t lose track of time as easily

Darry:

✮ he’s the kind of autistic that studies social interaction and copies it in his own behavior so he can get an good grade in being a person, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve

✮ Thinks everyone thinks like him and if he’s ever diagnosed he’s extremely confused because wdym not everyone is like that?

✮ Very very good at masking

✮ I don’t have a lot for him tbh but I feel very strongly about this headcanon

✮ He also has OCD. Why? Because I said so

✮ His intrusive thoughts get really bad after his parents die and they usually surround death, like his brothers or his friends dying

✮ A lot of cleaning compulsions but not like “everything has to be spotless” more like “if I fold these clothes in the right order or I do exactly five dishes right now everything will be okay”

Soda:

✮ Adhd + dyslexia

✮ Thought he was just stupid for the longest time because he just couldn’t figure out how to read like everyone else

✮ Also gets medicated in a modern AU but for him stimulants like adderall work really well

✮ Very forgetful. Has to write things down to remember them but then loses the paper he wrote it on and forgets anyway

✮ Loses everything and either has to spend half an hour looking for it or just gives up and finds it a week later in some random ass spot

✮ Stims constantly. He taps his feet, drums his fingers, bites his lip, etc. he needs constant stimulation or he’ll burst

✮ Doesn’t have any negative sensory issues but he loves to feel things. Soft shirts, grass, smooth surfaces, he’ll just feel them up and down for a bit to soothe himself. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it most of the time

Johnny:

✮ autism and ptsd

✮ Specifically c-ptsd from his home life and traditional ptsd from being jumped

✮ He’s very aware of his surroundings at all times

✮ He used to just have nightmares about his parents and learned to live with them, but after being jumped he started getting flashbacks and nightmares about that day and never really learned how to handle it

✮ He blames himself for his parents’ abuse. He has no definitive thing to blame it on though, it’s more just a general feeling of “I must’ve done something to deserve this”

✮ One time he offhandedly says something like that around Pony and Pony is appalled and does his best to reassure him it’s not his fault. In the end Johnny just says he believes him but the feelings never really go away

✮ Issues with clothing textures. Always rips the tags off his clothes. Likes the feeling of jeans and his jean jacket, hates the feeling of leather

✮ Hates getting his hair cut because it’s a sensory nightmare

✮ Gets overstimulated very easily. He usually just discreetly slips away and goes somewhere with less sensory input until he feels better. The gang is used to him randomly disappearing and have stopped asking about it, they understand he just needs space sometimes

Dallas:

✮ He’s bipolar because I’m bipolar and I said so and also it fits his character

✮ In a modern AU he’s very resistant to medication. He hates having to take pills to be “normal,” and even if he can wrap his head around that idea he just can’t stand having to take them every single day for his entire life

✮ Absolutely a danger to himself and others when he’s manic. Incredibly impulsive, brash, feels like a god and doesn’t understand why everyone looks at him like something’s wrong because he feels amazing

✮ He had depressive episodes before Johnny’s death but that triggered his worst one ever. He’d considered suicide before but never actually thought about going through with it, but after Johnny’s death he’s sure it’s the only option

✮ In an AU where Johnny dies but he survives (I love thinking about and writing this AU the angst potential is amazing) - no one can get him to do anything after he gets out of the hospital. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep, just lays awake on the Curtis’ couch for hours on end. The gang take turns watching him and forcing him to at least drink water

Two-Bit:

✮ adhd for SURE

✮ in a modern AU he’d be diagnosed as a kid because he’d be the classic case where he’s constantly disrupting class and bouncing around the classroom

✮ Doesn’t want to go on medication because he’s afraid he’ll be less funny and less him, also just straight up forgets to take it half the time

✮ I don’t really have a lot for him sorry :(

Steve:

✮ Audhd and c-ptsd

✮ I feel like we don’t talk about Steve being a victim of abuse enough (as in, as much as we do Johnny)

✮ Hard time regulating his emotions

✮ He has rejection sensitive dysphoria (comes as a package deal with the adhd). He lashes out really easily when he feels like he’s been wronged, even if it wasn’t the person’s intention. He also isolates himself a lot, especially when he feels like he’s done something wrong, which can stem from the smallest comment

✮ Time blindness on par with Ponyboy. Can work hours in the garage and not realize it

✮ Special interest in auto mechanics. As a kid he wanted to be a mechanical engineer, but he convinced himself he was too dumb to pursue it

✮ Very blunt without realizing it. He just says things as they come to his mind without thinking about how people will react to it, so he’s sometimes seen as rude or like he doesn’t like a person but in reality he’s just pointing out things how he sees them. He doesn’t realize how his words come across

✮ Expressive Language Disorder!! He has a hard time putting things into words. He’s actually really smart but has a hard time expressing himself so in school he was never taken seriously. Got accused of cheating a lot at school because he would do great on multiple choice sections but wouldn’t be able to put his thoughts into words for free response, so his teachers assumed he just copied off someone else

[haru-hanna]

Had this like, amazing idea that I posted on twitter but I just want to ramble more about it because it’s driving me mad the more I think about it but without school I feel like I can’t write 。゜(｀Д´)゜。

The premise is simple. In an attempt to kill Megatron, Starscream ends up dying instead (idk if it should be a specific Star or just…. Continuity soup tho). He doesn’t know he’s dead but he does die. Next thing he knows, he wakes up in a very comfy berth confused. His frame looks way more polished, less damaged and honestly, a tad bit fancier. Just like he always wanted. He walks around and finds Megatron fairly quickly. And the first thing he does is try to stab the mech.

Now, as it turns out, this isn’t his Megatron. It takes him a while to realize it but everything’s really different. Megatron’s a king of some kind (maybe, idk) and Starscream’s either supposed to be his fiancé or his closest confidant (again idk, this is just a ramble for an idea I literally came up with 10 minutes ago kinda inspired by @/kinzenn’s AU).

He tries to kill Megs a couple more times to no avail, this time being thwarted by this world’s Soundwave. He’s, somehow, more aware of what’s going on compared to the Soundwave from his world.

Now, on SOUNDWAVE’S side of things, he’s also super duper confused. One day Starscream was normally living his life, an aura of deceit enveloping his frame. He was definitely up to something that would harm Megatron, that was at least according to what his magical powers could sense (he’s probably like, some secret court magician/spy. Kinda thinking like Hubert from FE3H). The next day however, all those hidden feelings were replaced by outright malice and thoughts that were not as hidden as before. He could see all of Starscream’s plans now, as well as confusing depictions of everyone who lived in the Decepticon Empire (prob needs a better name).

Okay, back to Starscream. He’s confused and has no allies. Not like he did in his old world though, his trine has long been dead (I love command/elite trine so much but I’d feel so bad if they had to mourn an isekai’d Starscream who’s never coming back. Star can morn but I don’t want Warp and TC to😭) It is only when he talks to someone, who says some weirdly familiar things, that he finally figures out where he is….

HE’S IN ONE OF THUNDERCRACKER’S SH*TTY ROMANCE BOOK!!! THE ONE HE KEPT SWEARING TO THROW AWAY BUT COULDN’T BECAUSE OF STUPID SENTIMENTS!!!

The plot becomes familiar. In this world, a young prince was to betray his kingdom in favour of creating harmony between two rivalling nations. In the process he falls in love with his enemy, the king of the Decepticons. Starscream’s role in the tale is simple. He was the main villain! More accurately, the main Decepticon antagonist. A seeker who was close to Megatron but secretly wanted him gone and was plotting to do so up until his plans were thwarted by the Autobot kingdom’s youngest prince.

The worst part of this whole situation, Starscream realizes, is that his character is destined to die at the end of the story. After some contemplation, he changes his goals. Play along as much as he can, avoid the thing that’s going to kill him and find a way to get back home ASAP.

About a week or two after Starscream figures things out, Soundwave learns the same from his thoughts. Now, he doesn’t particularly like Starscream but he would rather deal with his own version him over some random bot from another universe.

Rest of whatever this story is would be Starscream failing at pretending to be the guy he replaced, Soundwave trying to secretly/discretely help but failing and both taking heavy notice of each other. They both eventually fall in love with each other but they don’t say anything because A. That’s a weakness and bots in their positions can’t have those and B. Both think Starscream’s going to return to his old world when the story ends so it’s only going to end in tragedy.

It’s cute, maybe Star bonds with the cassettes a bit because I’m a sucker for that (maybe they’re like, Soundwave’s apprentices). His trine’s here for sure, they’re like his Angel and devil on his shoulder but they’re real bots who are just his assistants or aides or smth.

Everything ends with the “book” ending, Starscream barely escaping his fated death thanks to Soundwave. Soundwave confesses his love, Starscream says he can’t say yes because he’s going to disappear probably, Soundwave says he knows. He knows everything. The two kiss as light envelopes Starscream and then BOOM. Nothing happens.

Or, kinda. Starscream regains his memories of his death and the two realize he’s probably not going anywhere and they can live happily ever after….. maybe. Depends on what the “protagonists” want to do with these two for their previous crimes 😂

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

part of reading comprehension is discerning who the target audience is. this means that if the content you're looking at makes no reference to your unique special exception situation, IT'S NOT TALKING ABOUT YOU

[cthulhum]

does anyone realize how crazy it is to have the actor of a mostly headcanoned queer ship say the fans were never crazy and they were right all along after 10+ years of everyone just absolutely going nuts over the said queerbaited ship

[oceanbluuu]

No longer just a young master,

No longer just jiujiu’s a-ling

[worstloki]

Mu Qing ascending is objectively so funny considering Feng Xin and Xie Lian also do. Out of the people in your kingdom who accomplished immortality there’s this guy who used to be your servant but is now on equal rank to you and he‘s super rude now and also thinks you hate him because he remembers when you were 18 and lacked socioeconomic-interpersonal awareness

[cryptocism]

yoohoo, I just need you to know you've ruined my life✌️ /j but like. finished reading frequency, what three days ago now? and since the moment I put it down, I have been. directionless. listless. I am consumed by, not DESPAIR, because despair is too passionate a word but. dissatisfaction? I miss the life I lived while I was still reading it. which is honestly rather appropriate considering some of the themes in the fic. I miss the person I was when half of my mind existed in the realm of the au. I fear I may never get over it and I may never recover the life I once had before this fic ruined me for all others, but I also cannot bring myself to regret reading it even if I never feel satisfaction again. I have tasted ambrosia, and the bread and wine of men shall forever be ash upon my tongue. pay my therapy bill.

i know these asks were sent in july but i love them and want to immortalize before they get buried in my inbox

first of all thank you so much!!! frequency has been one of my favourite projects to do over the past couple years i love that ppl are so into this absurdly niche fic. (i cannot pay ur therapy u simply must reread it forever rip (i mean writing it was like 50/50 self-indulgence and catharsis which means maybe reading it does the same thing lmaoo))

second yes! yeah it was Six who changed the timeline. a big old theme, possibly the main theme, of the whole fic is about change and who gets to create it. Six mirrors Thad in the ways that he believes himself unworthy of importance, and that the capacity to create change is inherently barred from him because of who and what he is.

so it was really important that Six was the one to make the choice to try change things - the guy whos entire powerset relies on being as inconsequential as possible. it shatters the original timeline, it results in his death, it causes a lot of very bad ripple effects, but he also saves Nathaniel. who saves Jude. who together both save Thad - who saves Bart and CRAYDL and defeats Three and discovers his own capacity for change in the process.

that was sort of the point of the whole "the spectrum of change is a horizon, not a tower" litany. there's no hierarchy. anybody can go towards it, they just gotta choose where they're going.

Six doesn't really save the day, but by wrenching the prewritten tragedy off its course, he creates the opportunity for Thad & co. to save it themselves.

[whatwillyousing]

i really love this. the imposition and projection of happiness because thoughtful explorations of autonomy are too sad and horrible to entertain apparently that is

[incangencence]

ooc: Woke up with So Many Thoughts on the Fifteenth Doctor… and I am TRULY at war with myself about whether or not I wanna wade into fandom discourse…

I don’t…

But WOW, what a fascinating and beautiful knot the production team has created for themselves…

[caseoftheblues]

white knucked grit teeth rattling the bars of my cage DONNTTTTT FUCK THIS UP FOR HIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM