#this is gonna sound maybe a little hypocritical but i wish the GO fandom was more Normal™️ about some things

[loverboybrightsideghost]

you can be super obsessed with something and still be aware that it's not that deep i think

[otomeramblings]

My thoughts on Act 2, Episode 5

Yes, I’m incredibly late to the party. It took me longer than I thought to finally be able to finish reading Ep 5 BUT here it is! I’m gonna try to summarize my initial reactions and how I feel about the main plot points here both for myself and for anyone that wants to read them.

Long post under the cut!

One small thing I want to mention before delving into the big stuff: seeing all the boys starting new stages in their lives was honestly super heartwarming; they’ve grown so much both as individuals and together as a company (and as friends), and it was a delight to see it. As a fan of small details, I loved to see that the conversation Banri and Yuki had in “Into the Night!” (about him taking acting seriously and maybe going to college to bring back the knowledge to the company) was reflected in his choice of going to Veludo Arts University.

But anyway! There’s 3 main things I want to talk about in regards to this episode:

First up is Masumi’s arc:

Hooooo boy, I hadn’t been this angry about a fictional parent since we learned about Misumi’s family. I think the main thing that irked me a lot about his dad was how little regard he seemed to have for his son as an actual human being. Especially because of how hypocritical it sounded when his secretary said stuff like "Mr Usui is concerned about you living without a parental figure for so long" because we all know that Masumi has been living basically on his own for a long time and the excuse of "Masumi has only been living in Japan this long due to his parent's desire to keep his environment as stable as possible while they were married" felt super empty because yeah, right, coming back to an empty home every day is the healthiest way to raise a child, it surely can’t affect his well-being and his sense of worth in any way.

Masumi saying "I thought it might make them happy if i got good grades or did well in sports, so I tried my best, but...nothing ever changed"  and the story about him begging his parents to come to the show and tell and his dad's response was just "Listen to your parents, that's all we want from you" was so heartbreaking. It made me incredibly angry but it also helped me understand Masumi as a character a lot more; no wonder he has attachment issues (which are mainly centred around Izumi/the MC) and his constant need for validation, he just wants people to be there for him and be proud of his accomplishments. He just wants a family but his parents were just too busy to even give a crap. 

Also, in relation to Izumi: I think he still needs to learn that the obsession he has with her is not healthy (and hopefully one day he can grow out of it) but it's clear that he doesn't do it to purposely make her uncomfortable; he's misguided and he doesn't know how to deal and express the affection he feels towards one of the people that genuinely cares about him. Also I'm not saying that he doesn't have a crush on her, I think he does but he behaves this way because he never learned how to express his feelings in a healthy way and he's probably scared someone "could take her away" at any moment because boy hasn't he had to deal with people going again a lot already.

About Masumi’s grandma: love her, she’s a darling and she clearly cares for her grandson’s well being. One thing she mentions is that her son changed when his company found success, and like, I get that he needs to put time and effort to keep his company afloat but like. not even considering what your son wants and feels? Maybe talking to him every once in a while? Being busy it's not an excuse; your son shouldn't have to wonder if his parents love him. But this also ties to the end of Masumi’s arc when his father finally lets him stay in Japan: I'm glad that Masumi's father apologised and realised the error of his ways, it doesn't undo the years of loneliness Masumi had to endure because of it, but it's a start.

Final thoughts on Masumi’s arc: 10/10 would read it again for the feels. I really loved the depth they gave him and how they made him realise that Mankai (not just Izumi) are important to him because they’re his precious family and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. One little moment after that warmed my heart was when Izumi tells Masumi that she's glad that he's been taking care of Tsuzuru while he's busy writing and he answers with "I mean, he is...family",,,,,,,,,,,I’m not crying, you’re crying. I hope we can get more moments with him in the future that are centred around his personality, his likes and dislikes, and his relationships with the other boys.

In second place, Chikage’s introduction and arc.

Let's see. I knew coming in that Chikage was a controversial character within the fandom and I knew the main reason why because of spoilers, but I didn’t know all the details. Also, something you should know about me is that I found morally grey characters interesting, so that made it so I went into this with an open mind.

Overall, I liked the episode and I ended up linking Chikage as a character well enough. But I’m not gonna lie and say that everything was perfect. The biggest issue I had with his arc was the way they handled his relationship with Izumi/the MC, especially in regards to the kidnapping. I’m usually pretty good at putting a dividing line between fiction and real life, which is what allows me to enjoy villains and morally grey characters; but as a woman who grew up with my mom saying “never leave your drink/food unattended”, seeing it done here and then having it go unpunished really left a bad taste in my mouth; because every girl grows up hearing this (and i know this is a problem that affects all genders) and it’s horrible because it has happened to so many people. So my biggest gripe about this part of his arc is the consequences, or more so the lack of them.

The only things that made it a bit more acceptable *for me* were three things:

This line from Izumi: "What Chikage's done is unforgivable. But I can't just ignore August's dying wish and Hisoka's thoughts on the matter." I have some mixed feelings about it but It just aligns with Izumi’s personality; she’s always been portrayed as incredibly selfless and giving, someone who’s ridiculously kind (to a fault) and who always tries to see the best in people and puts others before herself (and also because ~plot~ demands it, but that’s a thing with a lot of media these days) Do I wish she had been angry and wary towards Chikage after having been drugged and kidnapped? Yes, I do, it would have been nice to have a portion of the story dedicated to Chikage having to earn her trust back because what he did really was not okay.

Sakuya’s conversation with Chikage when he tries to leave after opening night and in particular these two lines from Sakuya: "This isn't about the play....for some reason, I get the feeling we shouldn't leave you alone right now" [...] "You're different now. I can tell you're broken and hurting. I feel like you've lost your way." Regardless of personal feelings, I think Chikage showed that he really was shaken by the weight of his own actions after he found out the truth. He knows that what he did was wrong and that’s why his emotions and all his guilt were crushing him all at once. He was driven by revenge and anger for so long that once he learned and accepted the truth, he completely lost himself. And seeing him have to deal with all of that made me really glad, because even if he’s not gonna have to deal with external consequences (aka having to deal with the rest of the company’s distrust, even though I wish he did), he still had to find a way to not only forgive himself but also to atone in his own way for what he did (aka putting down his walls, fulfilling his promises and making it his mission to protect everyone at mankai from the organisation) 

Now, as I’ve been saying, I really wish Chikage had been able to tell the others the whole story about what he did and why he did it but…..we didn’t get that. What I am glad about, though, is that at least he told them that he took her away on purpose (even if he didn’t tell them how or why); also both he and Hisoka pointed out that anyone who knows the full truth about their lives could be in serious danger and that having Izumi know was already risky enough. And yes, that is indeed very plot convenient but it’s the bare minimum and I’m willing to give it a pass this time.

tl;dr I think Chikage is an interesting character that has a lot of potential and I have hopes that he will get some more development in future events. BUT, I really think they could have handled his arc in this episode a lot better.

Now, all that said, if you still couldn’t bring yourself to forgive or look past what he did and you still don’t like him: no one can force you to like him after the things he did since it can be very triggering for a lot of people, so remember that your feelings are totally valid.

In third place and in relation to Chikage’s arc, I also have to mention Hisoka and the development he got as a result.

The only thing that bugged me in relation to Hisoka was that even though I knew he couldn't because of ~plot~ (and probably because part of him is still unsure about what he didn't remember and how it could affect the others even if he did say that the person he was before didn't matter anymore) but I really wished he had told anyone "hey so like......Chikage said some weird stuff to me just now and I might need help" because their first 1 to 1 confrontation was a threat if I've ever seen one.

But yeah, other than that I really love that we not only finally got to learn about his past, but also we got a good foundation for his development in the future regarding his interpersonal relationships with the winter troupe. The fact that he couldn’t remember who he was has been a point of conflict in the past and this brings that issue to a close in the sense that he is willing to tell them (part of) the truth once he sorts things out. And I loved loved how the trust Hisoka has in them is the direct result of all the ups and downs that the winter troupe has gone through so far in learning to open up to each other. I know they said during nocturnality that they’re not a family in the same sense the spring troupe is, but I honestly disagree; they way in which they’ve come to rely on each other shows how strong their bond is.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Good Business: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel (Mob AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a ruthless mobster. He’s also referred to as Big Buck due to his towering strong frame as well as his round stomach. You’re the owner of a small diner, a place that Big Buck decides to visit. Based off this drabble.

Over his meal, Bucky watches you behind the counter when he can. He watches how you’re overall sweet to each customer. You smile and laugh with them and he’s wishing you could be that way with him. But he understands your hostility towards him. He’s one of the most feared men in New York. How can you not be weary around him?

“You finished?” 

Bucky looks up to see you staring down at him expectantly. Your eyes glancing to his now empty plate and back to his eyes. He clears his throat, “Yeah.” 

You take the plate and any trash around him, “I’ll bring out your dessert now.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk over to the display case, cutting him a slice of the Boston cream pie and setting it on a plate. You walk back to him and place it before him, “There you go.”

He politely smiles up at you, “Thanks, sweetcheeks.” he breaks off a large piece with his fork and shovels it into his mouth. With mouth full of pie, he asks, “So how long have you had this place?”

You roll your eyes at his poor table manners, “Five years now. I always dreamt of having my own cute little diner. So I double majored in business and culinary to get where I am now.”

Bucky swallows and points to the pie, “You bake these yourself?”

You nod, “All the desserts, yeah.”

“Well, sweetcheeks, your cream pie tastes amazing,” he says with a wink. 

Again, you roll your eyes, “You’re not as charming as you think, Big Buck.”

He gives a shrug, “You’re a tough cookie.”

“I may be tough, but I’m no cookie, Big Buck.”

He grins up at you, taking some last few sips of his milkshake, “Don’t I know it, sweetcheeks.”

After he finished up his pie and shake, Big Bucky paid and he left with promising words of coming again soon. You didn’t doubt him. 

While you began to wipe down the counter, Sharon came up to you, “Holy shit. I honestly thought he was here to kill you for yesterday. Turns out he just wanted to eat.”

You give a shrug, “No one can resist my food, Share.”

“Seems so, especially if it’s your pie,” she nudges you with her hip at her innuendo and continued to pick up her ready orders. 

____________________________

Bucky entered his home, letting out a groan as he rubbed his belly in satisfaction, “That really hit the spot,” he stated as Steve approached him.

“Enjoy lunch?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Did you talk to the diner chick?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Did you ask for her number?”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?” 

Bucky scoffed, “Steve, she don’t want nothin’ to do with me. She knows who I am and what I do. She’ll never fall for the likes of me.”

“But you’re still gonna go to her diner,” Steve stated with a smirk and Bucky caught it. It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. 

“Well...yeah. The food’s good and her pie, Stevie, her cream pie was delicious!”

Steve snickered, “You tasted her cream pie, huh?” 

That received a thump on the head, “Hey! None of that! But yes, I ate her literal cream pie and it was fucking delicious. Like my ma used to make.”

“You’re shitting me,” Steve scoffed.

Bucky shook his head, a big grin on his face, “Nope. Not shittin’ ya at all. One of the best pies I’ve ever tasted after ma’s. And you know that’s the highest compliment I could give to someone.”

Steve whistled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “Hmmm...beautiful gal who’s a businesswoman and makes amazing pies. Maybe I should I ask her out myself.”

He immediately received a shove, “You wouldn’t dare! Besides, I saw you makin’ eyes at the blonde waitress there. Stick with her!”

“Whatever you say, Buck.”

Bucky opens his mouth to give a retort, but in rushes Sam, panting and his knuckles bleeding, “Sitwell’s spilling everything now.”

Bucky clapped his hands, “Yes! This day keeps gettin’ better and better, Stevie, boy!” and he follows Sam to the basement with Steve following closely behind.

____________________________

Two hours. Just two hours to go and you could close up shop. Not to say that you loved owning and working the diner. It was your baby, of course, but it can be exhausting sometimes. So in just two hours, you can close up and go home. 

“Hey, sweetcheeks!” oh what the hell?

You turn towards the door looking annoyed, “When you said that I’d see you soon, I figured you meant tomorrow or maybe next week or something. Not,” you look at your watch, “Less than twelve hours later.”

Bucky walks over to you and pinches your cheek, “You’re cute when you’re sassy, you know that?”

You slap his hands away, “Touch me again and I won’t hesitate to cut your hands off.” 

A blonde man accompanying Bucky, who you realized was the same man from yesterday, snickered, “You really are the fiesty one.”

“Yeah, no shit. What do you guys want now?”

The blonde spoke up, “Buck here told me he tried your Boston cream pie. Said it was almost as good as his mom’s. Figured I’d try it myself.”

“That so?” you cock a brow at Big Buck.

He shrugs, “It’s true. Haven’t tried a pie that tastes as creamy and delicious as my ma’s, well, until I tried yours, sweetcheeks,” he gives you a wink and you sigh. 

“Yeah. Okay, whatever,” you look over your shoulder and holler, “Sharon! Can you c’mere please?”

Sharon steps out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, “Yeah?” she cautiously eyes Big Buck and the blonde.

“I got some stuff to finish up so can you serve Big Buck and his friend-”

“Steve.”

“Huh?” you look at him and you see he’s suddenly blushing.

“M-My name is Steve.”

“...yeah..okay. Anyway, can you serve Big Buck and Steve while I finish up what I gotta do?”

Sharon nods, her fingers nervously fiddling with her apron around her waist, “Yeah. Sure. You got it, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you mumble as you give her a reassuring pat, a silent good luck. You walk behind the counter and to the cash register, opening it up and beginning to count your earnings. You hear someone clear their throat and you look up to see Big Buck standing there, “What now?”

He chuckles as he sits onto a nearby stool, “Long day, sweetcheeks?”

“Yes, and I have a name, you know.”

“That I do know, but sweetcheeks fits you well.”

“’Cause of my sweet ass,” you scoff out.

He shakes his head, “Nah. ‘Cause of that adorable face of yours,” he pokes at your cheek and you swat his hand away, “But yeah, your ass is lookin’ sweet too.”

“Whatever. Why’re you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be with your-I don’t even know who he is-your friend? Your minion?”

“He’s my best friend and right hand, but to answer your question, I came here for him, yeah, but not what you think.”

“Oh?” you ask somewhat intrigued but you didn’t want him to know that, so it came out disinterested and plain.

“Think he’s a bit soft on your waitress there. The blonde-”

“Sharon-”

“Yeah, Sharon. Saw him ogling at her when we were here yesterday. Thought I’d give him the opportunity to meet her himself.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you mumbled softly, eyes still focused on counting the money.

You hear Bucky chuckle, “Yeah. Steve and I grew up together. He’s my brother. That punk was a small, skinny, sickly kid. Was always in and out of bed, but he loved to pick fights. Whenever there was a kid messing on someone else, Steve always had to step in, even though he knew he’d lose. Course, he’s my best friend, so I had to jump in and help him. Do you know how many times I’ve gotten in trouble ‘cause of that punk? Way too many!” he lets out a laugh and you find yourself laughing with him. 

Both of you then stop when you realize what you’re doing. You pull in your lips and go back to counting, “That’s-uh-I think that’s sweet of you to have done. Even though you knew you’d end up getting just as hurt and in trouble.”

“Someone had to look after him. His mom, bless her soul, fought tooth and nail for him. Ended up working herself too hard and she got sick. Steve was orphaned when he was ten. My parents adopted him after.”

“So when you say he’s your brother-”

“I mean it in every sense of the way. I’d do anything for him, even drag him to a diner where I know I’m not welcome,” he says softly, looking down at his twiddling thumbs. 

There’s a silent pause between you. His words struck a chord in you. You always had this philosophy of treating everyone with respect no matter who they are or what they look like. Yet here you are being a hypocrite.

You sigh, setting the money back into the register and looking up at Big Buck, “Why did you come back today? This morning and now? I mean, I’m sure you didn’t have to escort Steve back here just so he could talk to Sharon.”

He scoffed, “Trust me, sweetcheeks, I had to,” he licked his lips and scoot closer to you in his seat, “And to answer your question, I did mean it when I said I wanted to eat..but I also wanted to see you again. You got this fire in ya and it’s so-I don’t know-refreshing? People see me and they cower in fear, and yeah, that’s on me. But you? You walked right up to me and kicked me outta here. It was amusing, ‘cause you got guts, kid, but it was also admirable.

“I get it. This is your place of business and you didn’t want my shit to fuck it all up. That’s understandable.”

“And yet you still come by.”

“I don’t plan on bringing of my dirty shit here, Y/N. I promise you that,” he reaches across the counter and gently places his hand on top of yours, “I just wanted to try your food and maybe get to know you a bit more. No one has ever stood up to me like you did and it was fucking awesome to see you do that.”

Bucky’s words have you frozen. Not only did he sound genuine, but the fact that he actually said your name caught you off guard. 

“You’re not lookin’ to fuck and dump me right? Like, there’s no game you’re playing right now?”

He shakes his head, “No games. Promise. I just-I don’t know-I think you’d be a good friend is all. Don’t gotta be anything like sleeping with each other and shit. Although, I wouldn’t oppose it,” he says with a chuckle, “But just friends is fine.” he senses your hesitance and lets out a sigh, pulling his hand back, “But I understand if you don’t wanna. I got a lot of bad shit connected to me and I know you don’t wanna get connected to all that.” he pats the counter and gets up with a grunt. He begins to walk away but stops when you call for him.

“I-I guess we could be friends?”

He nods gratefully, “Great, Friends. And call me Bucky. All my friends do.”

[janiedean]

Dude you need to stop. OP hadn't even been aggressive, they just made a random statement on their own blog. It's a personal space. Why do you all have to feel personally offended when 1) it was ONE POST on someone's personal blog, and 2) you're the first whining about how everyone is always offended at nothing! How insensitive. Maybe they were being dramatic, but then what? Show a little compassion, if it bothers you so much just fucking ignore it and move on, jesus. Are you 12?

Also seriously, you're constantly whining about how fed up you are about wank and "Discourse™" in your fandoms, but then you're also continuously participating in said wank by upping it up and up. Ever heard it takes two to tango? Kettle, meet pot?

my dearest darling anon, wow, you really got irked over a post that has..... 50k notes and it’s not such a personal thing anymore at that point. I mean. 50k notes. it’s not just PERSONAL. but however, let’s go over this.

a) it’s my blog. I reblog what I want. If anything, assholes on tumblr who keep disguising their fairly immature rants as *venting* should stop, not me. also, that post has 50k notes and out of the reblogs on the version I reblogged, I didn’t even say the worst thing. did you send this message also to the previous three people in my reblog? :’)

b) one post? that reblog was already two, and if you go on that person’s blog there’s another three reblogs of that same OP with additions which are all OMG STRAIGHT PEOPLE SUCK SO MUCH. lol. venting. with fifty thousand notes. it’s not venting anymore when a post is that viral and they posted it on a public website most likely fully knowing that it would go viral since tumblr dot com is basically ‘straight is an insult but it’s okay to say it because who cares straight people can just take it *SHRUG*’. 

c) HOW INSENSITIVE! MAYBE THEY WERE BEING DRAMATIC! SHOW A LITTLE COMPASSION! okay, you know what?

I’m now going to take OP and reword it with my favorite subject when it comes to show you how this line of thinking is hypocritical af. and at least it’s something I am and I can relate to so y’all can’t accuse me of appropriating someone’s struggles.

good? good!

now let’s imagine this was the op:

Being in a room with religious people talking about religious things is so exhausting.

at that, someone asks me:

What the hell are ‘religious things’?

and I reply:

sunday school and reciting prayers and going to mass and confession talk and discussing about how saudi arabia is actually a very pro-feminist country (spoilers: I heard that irl myself) without being made to feel like you are making people uncomfortable and hearing catholic people talk about how horrible it is for them to talk to atheists and christians in western countries talk about how they are such victims and their lives are shit when what this really means is they are never told that they don’t have morals because of course they believe in a deity and so they are and homophobic and racist crap that drives me crazy like how the only true family is man and woman  and how great religion (ps: this was in the OP so thanks for assuming that all straight assholes in the world are also religious but okay) is and how the world is so lovely and kind and great because people have god watching out for them and he will always be with them and how religious people are like “this person is so lovely” when you know they think you’ll go to hell for being anything other than their religion or listening to religious people say atheists are the worst or talk about people who don’t want to attend religious ceremonies (ie. people who don’t want to go to masses held for dead people) as being weird or rude because WHY WOULDN’T YOU GO, or asking “but have you ever read the bible?” judgmentally as if the moment you read that you suddenly hear jesus speaking to you or getting annoyed at you when you tell them about how not nice it is to be asked all the damned time if you’re gonna kill someone one day just because you’re atheist is because it’s easy for them cause they are religious and wouldn’t know the first thing about it or having to tell people you ‘really don’t practice’ to people all the time cause they just assume you’re catholic and you’ll be getting weird looks if you don’t like, and ‘wait but really??? HOW???’ or “but you look so nice it’d be a pity if you went to hell just because you refuse to believe in god” or “well as long as you keep it for yourself but DON’T TELL YOUR GRANDMOTHER!!!” or having to hear religious people talk about how great christmas is or about the amazing shit they read in church or about how all holy books are ABSOLUTELY NOT WRITTEN BY MEN AND THEREFORE NOT FALLIBLE and about all the amazing movies about jesus or just watching people live super conventional lives and do really sexist old fashioned things just because no one is brave enough to question or think about anything… and worst of all knowing that if you were to say or talk about anything atheist everyone would get uncomfortable and not join in on the conversation and wish you had said nothing… and then people will be like “you hardly said anything”, “you’re so quiet”, “you don’t talk much”, “are you shy”, “you’re boring”.

No bitch I’m atheist and I don’t relate to nor am I really interested in any of the shit that you have been yelling to my face for the last hour.

now, I’ll tell you what would happen: ANY DECENT RELIGIOUS PERSON I FOLLOW WOULD ASK ME WHAT THE FUCK I WAS SMOKING AND IF I REALLY THINK ALL RELIGIOUS PEOPLE ARE LIKE THAT AND ALL RELIGIONS ARE LIKE THAT, AND EVERYONE WOULD ASSUME I WAS A PROPER FUCKING ASSHOLE BECAUSE I JUST GENERALIZED 70% OF THE PLANET IN A LONGWINDED RIDICULOUSLY EMBARRASSING RANT WHERE ON SOME THINGS I MIGHT BE RIGHT AND ON OTHERS I JUST SHOWED A HORRID AMOUNT OF IGNORANCE.

also, since atheists are all assholes, I’d just confirm their ideas that all atheists are assholes who think they’re so much better than anyone else.

does that post look so harmless, put like this? would it look harmless, if the category mocked was anything but straight people? let me tell you: it wouldn’t. not on here, anyway. and now we get to the best part of this frankly ridiculous ask that you of course sent on anon because like hell you’d say that to my face, hm?

Show a little compassion, if it bothers you so much just fucking ignore it and move on, jesus. Are you 12?

no, I’m 29. and OP of that post, who definitely fucking sounds like he’s twelve, because I could have written the above post about how religion sucks when I was in my dawkins phase and I was THIRTEEN and like two years later I already learned to be a little less dramatic, is twenty-seven. out of someone who’s almost thirty, I’d expect some maturity.

but never mind that. the point is: actually, I did it. I ignored a fucking shitload of posts like this since the year of the lord 2013 when they started becoming a thing on tumblr. I ignored posts saying that ‘the only good use straight allies have is getting thrown off a cliff’, I ignored posts about how horrid cishets are, I ignored posts about cishets ‘are like omg they want a cookie for being nice to us that should be the basics’ as if in some places just being pro-lgbt can’t get you fired or put you against your family or get yourself in a hospital, but of course hey, we’re straight, we’re the majority, we inherently oppress anyone who’s not, who cares, amrite? I had to watch this website spiral into a mentality where straight is an insult, basically, and so hey we have a post laughing about straight girls’s tastes, straight girls being into ***ugly boys***, straight girls being brainwashed by the patriarchy because they actually like men when they could be lesbians and be so much better off in tumblr’s amazing pastel unicorns and rainbows lesbian aesthetic where no one feels sexual attraction and everything is platonic and we don’t talk about bills because how fucking boring. I ignored all of that shit for years because y’all were VENTING and you could only do it online so hey what’s the harm in it, and guess what, I’m done. It bothers me so much because it normalizes a mentality where it’s okay to insult people for things they can’t change about themselves rather than aim at, like, HOMOPHOBES. WHO ARE THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM. but nah, hey, I just have to scroll by the umpteenth post insulting straight people because they talk about things also lgbt people talk about APPARENTLY, because is2g I can assure you that in my fandom group of friends where *I* am camp straight 90% of the time and everyone else is not we actually fucking talk about mortgages and bills and how much renovating a house sucks and how it costs and how it doesn’t and about taxes and about how poor we’re going to be when we retire.

but apparently to OP all this kinda shit is just STRAIGHT TALKING. yeah, lol. anyway, this is kindergarten level attitude and people should have been told to can it years ago, and honestly given that ‘scroll by and ignore’ is an attitude I had for years to avoid conflict and it only caused me trouble, excuse me if I’m done helping feeding a mentality that’s completely fucking useless, because this line of thinking just alienates people. also wow now that I read this post I should feel bad for talking to my non-hetero friends about pretty much anything according to OP? some straight kid younger than me and more impressionable who might actually buy into this website’s bullshit reads this and what will they think? that every time they discuss anything with a gay friend nearby that person is seething inside and hating all of them? could happen. anyway, point is: that post is ridiculous, it has 50k notes and I’m 99% sure most of them actually agree with OP and I wasn’t taught to keep my mouth shut if I hear people saying dumbass things and everyone agrees. that’s not how you do activism. enabling this way of thinking is not helping anyone, least of all OP.

other than that: 

you're constantly whining about how fed up you are about wank and "Discourse™" in your fandoms, but then you're also continuously participating in said wank by upping it up and up

so excuse me, telling people who are actually fucking wrong and spew and enable actually dangerous concepts like idk the fact that people up until eighteen years old have the same decisional capacity as five year olds, that you cannot consent to sex if you aren’t eighteen and one hour old, that you can’t date someone older or younger than you even if you’re both of age because PEDOPHILIA and that consuming problematic fiction is wrong is UPPING THE WANK?

ANON, WHAT THE FUCK. so now if donald trump does ridiculous things and says dumb shit people who disagree should just shut up and let him work and ignore it when the things he does are dangerous? anti thinking is dangerous and keeping your mouth shut and going like ‘they’ll grow out of it’ is not going to work, it’s going to make the situation worse and it’s going to get people hurt.

telling people to FUCKING CAN IT and explaining them a few basic concepts about the difference between fiction and real life is not upping the fucking wank, and calling people out on fucking dumb opinions is not the same as enabling toxic ways of thinking. good lord, if someone irl tells me that interracial marriages are wrong and disgusting what should I do, shrug and let them think I agree or MAYBE EXPLAIN THEM THAT IT’S REALLY RETROGRADE TO THINK SUCH A THING?

I mean, do you need a power point to get the difference?

kettle meet pot like hell. I never started any wank, I never posted one thing purposefully offending an entire category of people just to VENT, none of my posts ever got more than 3k notes - honest I think I had ONE that got that much and it was convention pictures of SPN actors so sure as hell I’m not getting seen by 50k people so OP actually has more leverage than me in this discourse - and assuming I’m actually doing the same thing as OP when everything I’m doing is pointing out that it’s not a healthy way of thinking and that this fucking website is turning into a worse dumpster with every passing moment since at this point the fact that I was born being fine with my sexual characteristic and liking dick is apparently enough to decide that I inherently oppress minorities just by existing and it’s not a line of thinking that activists anywhere should support, is intellectually dishonest and frankly fucking laughable especially coming from someone who doesn’t even put their face to what they ask.

and anyway, OP is a grown ass man and can take care of themselves and of a few disagreeing opinions if he wants to be on a public website where his posts go viral.

and I have absolutely no obligation to keep my mouth shut about things that are imo very fucking dangerous slip-slopes.

there. and now, since I am not going to keep my mouth shut just to make you or OP feel better, you can click the unfollow button if you dislike my opinions that much or you can stick around and learn that sometimes being an adult is a thing that should happen, especially if you frame shit as activism.

anyway, I don’t even know who you are so it’s not like I’ll miss you personally. :’)

[jandjsalmon]

Ok I feel like I need to point something out bc I don't know if you guys are even aware of it but I've noticed that it's a point of conflict within the fandom right now that the popular bughead blogs come across as really cliquey. Not attacking or targeting you specifically it's just one example. But it comes across as fake when you guys say you're drama free and really inclusive to put up a good front and then you go back to only interacting with each other and being exclusive and cliquey

So I’ve had some time to think on this message today, Grayface. I hope you didn’t think I was ignoring it. It was written in a super respectful way - and I really do appreciate that. That’s the main reason I felt it was important to answer. I never answer when it’s someone being a jerk in my inbox so thank you for that. 

I have to admit - despite your assurances that this message wasn’t targeted specifically towards me - the point when I opened up tumblr this morning and checked MY inbox and this was the first message I got - at first I was kinda hurt. No. More than kinda. I was a lot hurt. 

Well, at least my pride was hurt because I feel that I’ve done everything I can (personally) to be friendly and kind to all sorts of different people in this fandom. New people. Old people. People who sometimes don’t agree with me and those who oftentimes do. I took your message personally and that made me want to react instead of reflect - and so it’s probably a good thing that I waited until later to answer it.

I have a couple things to say - but first I want you to know that I completely validate your feelings. They’re yours and that’s okay that you feel them. It would be absolutely wrong to believe that there aren’t any problems in this fandom. There are problems in every fandom. And I always say - get three junior high girls in the same room and you’re gonna have drama. Well - though many of us (most of us?) are older than middle school - the logic is still sound. Get a bunch of passionate girls (and one guy) together and there is gonna be drama. 

Some days we’re a HOT MESS. Some people are dramatic. Some people are exclusive and not as welcoming as they could be. And yes, friendships have developed between little groups. A lot of us have been in the fandom since February. It’s hardly our fault that we bonded over Anna’s or Zombiez’ or Vera’s first stories. Some of us were here when there were less than 300 Bughead stories at Ao3. That kind of familiarity is something that can’t be helped. But that’s not an excuse to make people feel unwelcome. So the fact that you aren’t feeling part of it sucks. 

And maybe I’m the biggest villain in the story - because I was one of the very first people to start using the term Buggie family way back in March and I even have a damn tag on my blog that says #iadoreourbugheadfamily - so maybe it’s my insufferable positivity that irks people who don’t feel included. I tend to be this positive person - even when we’re in the midst of a drama - because I believe that despite those few who fight and argue - most of us are welcoming and supportive and just trying to have a good time here where we can all mutually squee about the stuff we love.

I’ve come to see though that as welcoming as I try to be and how much it burns my butt that you feel like I’m one of the hypocrites who “say” I’m inclusive but I’m not and basically call me out for having no integrity (which is a HUGE deal to me btw) - I understand that some people aren’t happy with their fandom experience. Not everyone is having a good time. And that sucks.

BUT (and this is a “look at her butt, Becky” sized BUT!) some of that is on the people who aren’t feeling it. I think sometimes…. people feel excluded because the moment they walk into the fandom they don’t get a parade thrown in their honour.  We literally CAN’T hold a tickertape parade everyone someone new joins the fandom.  

There are too many Buggies us to do a roll call and formal introduction to everyone the moment they realize that RAS was a super smart dude and was right about getting the hot blond and the hot loner weirdo together. 

A lot of friendships on tumblr especially come from investing in the content, investing in following others. This isn’t livejournal (my former social media home) - where you got to know people as they told you about their lives. Here we don’t really have that luxury unless we reach out. This is all about engagement and reblogging a couple times and waiting for the rest of the fandom to come to you isn’t gonna cut it. You have to communicate. At least with that one person - who can then help you meet other people and others.

Friendship of any kind is WORK. I’ve had lots of people send me messages and asks - I’ve introduced people in posts to the fandom - and I’ve been the first to reach out before as well, sending messages and asks to new people I follow - telling them that I think their blog is cool or that their story was awesome.

And I know that must be hard for shy people… but are those of us who aren’t shy responsible for your enjoyment of the fandom? Is it only our job to grab you and pull you out of your shell? I try, dude. But I can’t do that for everyone and still have a life outside these blue walls. I think sometimes you have to do it too. 

The last thing I want to address though is your comment about how we all end up going “back to only interacting with each other and being exclusive and cliquey” - and I need to say that I honestly don’t feel that the fandom is full of cliques who don’t let others interact. If I see something I want to comment on - I do. Sometimes people interact with me. Sometimes they don’t. I never take it personally because I know sometimes people don’t have anything to say - or they’re on mobile - or they’re busy. This is definitely not a place for thin-skin. 

All this being said. I am sorry you feel like this isn’t a fun fandom to hang out in, Grayface. I wish you were having a better fandom experience. I hope that changes for you. 

[batboysimagine]

The Joyride- Part 3 (Jason Todd x Reader)

A/N: This is not the last part! In fact, it’s far from it! I plan to write much more after this, so please don’t stop looking for new parts of this story after you finish this one! I’m sorry it came out a bit late. I hit a small bit of writer’s block, but all is well!

Warnings: Angst, description of injury (heart issues, internal bleeding, etc.)

Tagging: @solis200213 @pinkwitch21 @tigeragathe @gokusanfan @just-a-girl-maybe @queen-of-all-the-fandoms @neverlandprincessjaz @steggy4ever

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

Jason felt like something was being ripped out of his chest as he watched through the window of your hospital room door. He could hear your muffled screams, even through the shut door, and each one weighed on him heavily. He didn’t realize that he was crying until Bruce pried him away from the door, and he tried to hell him to let go.

“Jason, calm down,” Bruce implored, placing his hands on Jason’s shoulders. “You need to calm down.”

“But- She- I- She- She’s dying,” Jason spoke through sobs, taking in shaking breaths and letting out weak cries.

“We don’t know that,” Bruce said, trying to reassure his son, despite the fact that he was just as distraught and unsure as Jason. “She’s going to make it.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He regretted every empty promise he’d made Jason since this nightmare had begun. But he couldn’t let Jason know that. Not now.

Doctors hooked up all new machines to you as you writhed in pain on the hospital bed. You continued to cry out through the tube, tears streaming down the side of your face. You didn’t know what was happening, but you knew that it hurt like hell.

You were sobbing and screaming through the tube. The pain was something you could only describe as lightning coursing through your veins, and, God, you wanted Jason to be by your side right now.

You felt a sharp prick in your arm and a pressure spreading out from the place where you’d been poked. Suddenly you felt tired, so tired. All you could do was close your eyes and pray that you would get to open them again. But in the moment you shut your eyes and drifted away, it occurred to you that it wasn’t just Jason you wanted to see again, but your family. Your brothers and sisters and Alfred and Bruce. What you wouldn’t give to have your brothers by your side, telling you that it was going to be okay. That you would live.

But you didn’t have much time to think it over as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Jason felt his blood run cold as a long electronic beep, muffled but audible, sounded from the other side of the door.

“No,” he whispered weakly, eyes going wide. He felt like he was frozen in place. “No.” Slowly, shakily, he turned his head to look to Bruce. To look to his father. “No.”

“Jason, I-”

“No. No, no, no, no,” Jason muttered. In that moment, his world came crashing down. He barely registered what was going on around him, Bruce shaking him, trying to get him to calm down, the shouting of the doctors, trying hard to resuscitate you. Suddenly he was acutely aware of how cold the hospital halls were, and how bright the white lights were, and how loud his own heartbeat could be when it was racing faster than he could comprehend. It felt like his head was underwater. He was drowning. He was-

“Jason! Jason! Listen to me!” Bruce’s gravelly voice seemed to cut through Jason’s hysteria like a knife. “Listen to me.”

Jason looked up at Bruce, bloodshot and wide-eyed, tears freely falling.

“Listen to what’s happening in there, okay? Listen. Just listen,” Bruce tried, once again taking Jason by the shoulders and looking him dead in the eye. 

Jason nodded and turned his attention towards the door of your hospital room, his breath still shaking with diminishing sobs. 

“Clear!” The sudden sound of the defibrillator decharging resonated from the other side of the door. 

Jason momentarily looked back at Bruce when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but quickly turned his head back to look through the small window of the door, praying that you would come out alive.

“Clear!” Again there was the thunk of the defibrillator releasing its charge, but it was followed by another sound.

Jason was sure that the soft, steady, electronic, beeping rhythm was the most beautiful sound that he’d ever heard.

A couple of minutes later a nurse walked out of your room and into the hallway, looking relieved. “She’s alive, and so far she’s stable.”

Jason didn’t know if he was supposed to smile or cry. Instead, he fell back into one of the chairs and let out a long and shaking sigh. “What- What happened to her?” he asked, trying to regain his composure.

“The internal bleeding cause an irregularity in her heart, but we managed to regulate her heartbeat,” she explained, maintaining a calm and even quality in her voice.

“Is it- Is it going to continue to be an issue?” Jason held his head in his hands, still trying to wrap his head around what was going on. This was all happening so much faster than he knew how to deal with.

“We think we’ve fixed the internal damage but we’re going to keep an eye on her for a few more days,” she elaborated gently.

“A-alright,” Jason replied, sighing. “When- uh- when can I see her?”

“It’s going to be a while longer, sir,” the nurse told him. “We’ll let you know.”

“Right. Thanks.” Jason exhaled slowly and squeezed his eyes shut. The situation finally began to set in and he was starting to process the long term consequences that this entailed. “Oh my god,” he mumbled. “Oh my god.”

“Jason?” Bruce tried, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How could I have let this happen?” Jason asked himself. “I- I almost got her killed. That should have been me in there. If I had waited five minutes to ask her to go or if I had just picked a different road- 

“There’s no way that you could have known that at the time, Jason. There’s no way that you could know now that leaving a few minutes later or choosing a different road wouldn’t have the same result,” Bruce reasoned 

“This could ruin her life,” Jason argued in a broken whisper. “I could have ruined her life. She’ll be off patrol for weeks and what if this happens again? But- but I’m not there to take her to the hospital. What if-”

“Jason. Calm down. There are always going to be a million what-ifs. She doesn’t need you doubting yourself right now. She needs you to be there.” Bruce felt like a hypocrite giving such advice. Listening to Jason’s words was haunting for him. Haunting because that doubt was the same as the doubt that consumed him every time something happened to someone he cared about. Maybe he understood Jason better than he thought. Maybe they were both built for blame.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Jason agreed, despite the fact that he was still riddled with guilt.

About twenty minutes later, the nurse walked back out of the room, wearing the same sympathetic smile as before. “You can go in and see her now,” she said. 

Jason nodded and stood, then went to enter the room, followed by Bruce. Softly, he pushed the door open. He made his way back to the chair by your bedside and sat down, Bruce once again taking the chair by the door.

 You were unconscious still, and the breathing tube had finally been removed. Somehow you seemed more peaceful than the last time he’d been here. Maybe it was his own tiredness, lulling him into a false sense of serenity.

But despite the sense of peacefulness in your rest, Jason took painstaking notice to the red, angry scars that marred your face. Even with what Bruce had said to him, he felt accountable and it made him sick. It hurt to know that this could have been avoided.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, thinking that you really did look serene with your head rested gently against the pillows and your mouth parted slightly as you breathed in and out.

You stirred at his touch, and slowly your eyes opened and met his 

“Hey,” Jason spoke in a hushed whisper, smiling gently as he looked at you.

“Hey,” you croaked, giving your own weary smile in return and letting out a long sigh.

“You scared the shit outta me, you know that?” Jason chuckled softly, gently tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “You really need to quit doing that.”

“Sorry, Jay,” you said with a playful, yet still tired, smirk. Your voice was scratchy and weak. “Can’t really help it.”

He hummed in response, his hand still not moving from the side of your face. “Do you need me to get you anything?” he asked, running his fingers through your hair.

“Some water would be nice,” you replied, closing your eyes and humming at the feeling of his warm hand against your skin.

“Okay,” he said, kissing your forehead tenderly as he got up, and went off to get you a bottle of water from the hospital cafeteria.

Once Jason had left the room for the time being, you noticed Bruce sitting by the door.

“Hiya, Bruce.” You greeted your father-figure in jest, your voice still quiet and weak.

“Hello, (Y/N),” Bruce responded, his smile laced with a strange combination of sadness and relief.

“You can come and sit over here if you’d like,” you told him, and nodded to the chair by the side of the hospital bed.

Bruce nodded in return and stood up, moving to sit by your side. “How are you feeling?” he asked, still wearing that mournful smile.

“Like my heart just stopped,” you answered bluntly, earning a small laugh from Bruce. “I guess I feel better. I’m still tired, though, and I really wish this would just end so I could go home.”

“I can understand that. This hasn’t been easy for anyone,” Bruce said. His gravelly voice was comforting, making you feel safe. Like you were back at the manor with the family.

“I’m gonna talk to Jason about it, but I want to stay at the manor for a while after this. I- This has made me think a lot about our family, and I’ve realized how much time I’ve spent away. I want to come home for a little bit, you know?” you told him, turning your head to look over at him.

“You–both of you–are always welcome,” Bruce replied.

You looked over Bruce’s soldier to see Jason re-enter the room, water bottle in hand. “Hey, Jay,” you acknowledged, smiling at him. You couldn’t help but noticed how tired he looked, how his shoulders slumped and how his weary smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Bruce looked back to where Jason stood and got up, allowing the younger man to return to your side.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Jason greeted as he sat back down. “I’ve got your water. 

“Thank you,” you sighed, once again closing your eyes as you exhaled.

“You okay?” he asked, furrowing his brow in mild concern.

“Yeah. I’m just pretty tired is all. Think you could help me with that water?” you asked, mildly frustrated that you couldn’t even drink water on your own.

“Sure thing,” he agreed, twisting open the cap on the bottle.

“I’m sorry that I’m making you do this, Jay,” you apologized, looking up at him pitifully.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, okay? Just take it slow.”

“Okay.”

Jason held the bottle up to your lips, slowly tipping it to allow you to drink.

Bruce smiled softly to himself as he watched Jason interact with you. He noticed how Jason showed a gentleness with you that he hadn’t seen him display anywhere else. It gave him the reassurance that as long as Jason had you, he was grounded.

After a while, Jason had settled in at your side, and was reading you a book that Bruce had brought for him from his old room in the manor.

You didn’t really know what was going on within the story. Maybe you would have understood the book better if you weren’t so drowsy, but you didn’t really mind. Jason’s voice was comforting.

He reached a pause in the book and Bruce cleared his throat. “I think I should be getting back to the manor. Call if you need anything from home. I’ll visit again tomorrow. Would you want me to bring the family, (Y/N)?”

You nodded, giving a small smile. “That would be nice.”

Bruce nodded in acknowledgment and said goodbye for the day.

Once Bruce had left the room you turned to Jason. “Hey, Jay?”

“What’s up, babe?” he answered, setting the book down on the side table gingerly.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, but do you- do you think we could stay at the manor for a little bit once I’m out of the hospital?” you asked, giving the best puppy-dog eyes you could from your position. “It’s just that I miss our family and I want to be near them a little more often, a-and I figured it would get really lonely in our apartment, especially when you’re gone, and-”

“Hey, I understand and I agree. That’s a good idea,” Jason said, agreeing to your suggestion surprisingly quickly. “I want there to be someone to take care of you when I’m not at the house.”

You gave the biggest smile you’d given since before the accident. “So you’re okay with it?”

“Yep. I am one-hundred-percent on board,” Jason replied, leaning over to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“I really wish this whole thing could be over already,” you commented, referring to the nightmarish events of the past few days.

“I know, baby. Me too,” he agreed. “Do you want me to keep reading to you?”

“Yes please,” you answered with a tiny nod.

Jason smiled and picked up the book again, flipping it open to the page he had left off on and beginning to read again.

You fell asleep peacefully, lulled to rest by the comfort of Jason’s voice. At least for now, things were looking up.

[taeminuet]

Heartbeat (16/?)

Title: Heartbeat Fandom: SHINee Pairings: Jongtae; Minkey; OnKai Chapter Wordcount: 2.5k Overall Rating: R (Some chapters will be NC-17; these will be marked.) Chapter Warnings: mental illness, mentions of past abuse  Summary: In which not every problem needs to be fixed and not every person needs to be saved; sometimes you just need support.

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1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 7.5 , 8 , 9 , 10 , 11 , 12 , 13 , 14 , 15

Chapter 16: Taemin

Taemin knows he has to focus on what's real right now, knows he can't let himself go or else risk losing it entirely. It's getting toward dark again, and he cant't do this, not two nights in a row. But it's so hard; everything around him is so silent, so still, and it's hard not to get caught up in his own head.

He knows he should get out of here, knows he should try to surround himself with something more than this, but the idea of being out in the open is horrifying. He needs to hide, and he needs to not be alone, and he needs... he doesn't know what exactly he needs except to be able to tell what's real and what's not.

His father is looking for him. That's real. It's horrible and terrifying, but it's still real.

But there's no way he's going to find him here, right? Jongin hadn't said anything. Jongin wouldn't say anything.

It's just Taemin's brain, freaking out and making him panic over stuff that can't possibly happen. This place is safe. He knows it's safe. His father doesn't know about it, can't find him here.

But that doesn't make the fear go away, because his father has always found him before, every time he's tried to hide. When he was younger, he'd run to friend’s houses, thinking maybe, maybe. But his dad was always there after him, with that kind, disarming smile, and an explanation on his lips: his son just had a temper, had just overreacted, just didn't want to get in trouble for whatever it is that Taemin had done 'wrong'.

And every time, his friends' parents would nod understandingly and hand Taemin over, none the wiser. And the nights he ran were always the worst. After a while, Taemin had just learned not to run, to just try and take it all with with a straight face and put his mind somewhere far away where it couldn’t be harmed. Because even if his dad hurt him physically, there was nothing he could do to Taemin's mind. Or so Taemin had thought.

Jongin had saved him from that, had come along and rescued him from both his father and himself. Jongin, who had spent his childhood helpless to stop Taemin's personal hell, had done everything he could to get him far away from there. And Taemin had almost been able to repress what happened to him. Almost. But when it came back, well…

That’s what he was here for now, isn’t it? He had thought he was safe, and then his own mind had caught up with him and reminded him otherwise, reminded him that he was never safe. Not so long as his father is out there.

And now Taemin knows for sure that his father is looking for him, and it's all he can do to try to keep a grip on reality, to try and keep his mind from playing tricks on him. All he really has the capacity to manage is curling up under his blanket, knees drawn to his chest and face pressed against them, a death grip on the shirt Jonghyun left in here only a little while ago.

This is real too. And what had happened earlier is real too. Maybe it's harsh, and maybe he's pissed at Jonghyun for being snappy and harsh, but what had happened before that is nice to think about still, and Taemin is honestly desperate for anything to anchor him down. Right now, this shirt and these memories with Jonghyun are the realest thing he has.

But he can't bring himself to go running to the real thing, not again. He knows if he did, Jonghyun would help him. He thinks, at least. Hopes, maybe. But he can't bring himself to go, not when he's still torn between guilt and this fear he can't control. Because Jonghyun doesn't seem to know how to control himself, how to react calmly.

And maybe Taemin is a hypocrite, but they'd talked about this, and how is Taemin supposed to feel when Jonghyun is set off so easily by a single question?

Taemin doesn't know, and god he wishes he did, because right now all he can do it lay here under the covers and try and cling onto a shirt like it's a lifeline.

The knocking at the door terrifies him, makes him have to bite back a scream at the sound, because he can imagine so easily it turning into his father's fists, pounding on his door, trying to get in. For a moment, Taemin freezes there, terror welling in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He knows it's not his dad, but that doesn't stop him from feeling like it, doesn't stop his hands from shaking or his heart from pounding or his throat from closing up.

“Taemin? Tae, hey.” It's Jonghyun, knocking and calling out, and he seems-- Taemin doesn't know. He seems calmer, but that might just be an excuse, might just be Taemin's desperation.

But as much as he couldn't bring himself to go to Jonghyun, he can't bring himself to turn him away now. His throat is still tight, and he can't get out more than a choked out noise, but it's enough to make Jonghyun open the door.

For a moment, they stand there at an impasse, because Taemin doesn't want Jonghyun to leave, but he also doesn't want him too close. He remembers Jonghyun's outburst earlier, remembers Jonghyun snarling at him, shoving and pushing and too eager to protect himself to care about Taemin's feelings.

But that was fair. Taemin had upset him by asking.

“Taemin,” Jonghyun says, and then he's walking towards him.

Taemin's breath catches, and he curls up a little tighter, but if Jonghyun notices, he says nothing, just takes a seat at the end of Taemin's bed, cross-legged. He doesn't reach out for Taemin.

“Look at me,” he whispers, and it's so soft, like he's speaking to a spooked animal, trying to coax Taemin out. “I'm not-- I won't do anything you don't want, okay? I'm not gonna let anyone near you, okay? Not unless you want 'em. Just... okay?”

Taemin's fingers squeeze tighter on Jonghyun's shirt. “Why?” he whispers. “Why are you-- why don't you just...”

He bites his lip, shuddering, waiting for Jonghyun to reach out and touch him, to grab him to do something. But Jonghyun is quiet and still, and when Taemin dares to look up, his face is soft and concerned and sad. All the bravado gone. This is the man who'd realized, hours too late, that he'd scared Taemin.

And Taemin shivers, making a quiet, unhappy little sound. “Why haven't you hurt me yet?”

Jonghyun jerks, almost like he's been struck, and his arms lift, just a little. Taemin flinches without meaning too, dropping his head and curling tighter in on himself. But Jonghyun goes slack again all at once, like he's caught himself, and when he speaks his voice is choked up, filled with something like horror. “Because,” he says. “I just told you I'm not gonna do anything you don't want. I'm not going to let you get hurt, not even by me, and I'm sorry that I keep--”

He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “This isn't about that. I'll apologize later. Just... I promise you, I swear to you, Taemin, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. No one. You're safe.”

Taemin shudders, unfolding just a little. Jonghyun is just sitting there, looking at him, and Taemin clenches his hands into fists so tight that it hurts, even through the fabric, the pressure making his fingers ache.

He whines quietly and lets it go, sitting up hesitantly. Jonghyun is watching him, and there's something in his eyes that Taemin can't read properly, something that makes Taemin's heart squeeze. For a moment, he reels, trying to figure out how to make this better.

A part of him just wants this all to stop. He wants to fit himself between Jonghyun's thighs, to suck him off and make him feel good, to distract them both until they don't have to think about this. They can pretend that none of this had ever happened in the first place and Jonghyun will fuck him senseless, and everything will be okay.

But it's not realistic, and Taemin can't, and he just has to real with all of this. They both do. He can't hide, and he's known that for so long, but he keeps trying, keeps wanting to, keeps thinking that somehow, out of everyone, Jonghyun is a safe place to hide. He wishes he knew why. He wishes that neither of them had to deal with this. He wishes he could be normal.

But even if he was, Jonghyun would still be here, dealing with whatever. Taemin hates it. His hands are fists again, but there's nothing in them now, and it hurts, the nails digging into his skin, fast and harsh and painful. His breath is uneven now, panicked and short, and he jerks with terror when Jonghyun's voice cuts in. “Taemin, stop it.”

Taemin whips his head up, waiting, but Jonghyun still isn't reaching out. He just looks torn, his own hands balled at his sides, though less tightly than Taemin's.

“Fuck,” Jonghyun says after a second, voice low and pained. “Tae, you can't sit there and worry that I'm going to hurt you when I'm not, and then fuck up your own hands. That's counterproductive as shit. If you want to hurt something, hit me. I'm right fucking here, and I'm okay with it, I swear. I can deal, and I'm not going to do anything to you. So either hit me or let me hold you, but don't just sit there and fuck yourself up.”

And Taemin wants to ignore him, because there's so much to deal with in that whole statement. Too much to deal with. But it's all so jarring, so out of place, and it makes Taemin think, makes him focus on Jonghyun in front of him, here and so clearly real, because Taemin could never make up an offer like that.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” he whines, uncurling slowly as he tries to process. Jonghyun is offering to just sit there and let Taemin hurt him so that Taemin can feel better. And god, that's not what Taemin wants, not at all, but for him to put his neck out there – his neck that is already wearing one of Taemin's bites, fueled by fear and panic – that says a lot.

What says more is the fact that he's still not moving, not reaching out for Taemin even as Taemin slowly unfolds himself. After a moment, Taemin moves closer, careful and tentative, and Jonghyun just... waits.

Taemin crumples, all at once. “I'm sorry,” he says again. “Fuck. This is all-- this is all so fucked. Today-- I just... I just want to sleep.”

“I-- look, I don't know, but I can imagine, and I'm sorry,” Jonghyun says. “But listen to me, okay? Don't you dare apologize. None of this is your fault. You got dealt a shit hand, and you did what you could with it. You don't have anything to apologize for.”

Taemin laughs bitterly and scoots forwards closer, until he's sitting close. Jonghyun stays still, right up until the point where Taemin leans against his shoulder, and then Jonghyun's arms come up in a hesitant embrace, holding him gently. “Tae...”

“I'm still sorry. I keep-- I keep fucking acting like you're the only one at fault here and getting pissed off when you do stuff when Jongin fucking mentions my dad and I'm--”

He stops, because he just felt Jonghyun twitch, the word 'dad' making him jar, and that little piece of confirmation makes his stomach turn. He doesn't know what happened to Jonghyun, and he doesn't have the right to demand it, but he knows what a reaction like that means, at least a little, and he doesn't think it's good.

He bites his lips tightly. “I have a lot to apologize for. I just kind of seemed to come here and fuck things up.”

“It's always like this,” Jonghyun says. “When people come and go. Not... okay, maybe not like this, exactly, but when you throw this many people with issues together...”

“Earlier,” Taemin says, and his voice is quiet and tense, “you said you're never leaving here. Earlier. Maybe... maybe that's me too. I thought yeah, of course, but then... and then shit like last night, and shit like when Jongin said...”

Jonghyun shifts a little, barely perceptible, and his hand lands, warm and soothing on Taemin's back, rubbing gently. “You don't know that. I'm... you're not like me. You checked yourself in here. You can leave whenever you want to. Whenever you feel better. I'm not--” He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise. “I don't-- we can talk about that later. I don't want to get stressed out and freak you out or whatever. You don't need that right now. Ever, really, but-- I can't promise...”

“Jonghyun,” Taemin says. “It's okay. It's... I don't think I'm really ever gonna be better until... well.”

He shakes his head. Maybe when his dad is dead. Maybe. But he can't say that, not when he knows just enough about Jonghyun to know it's dangerous and not enough to know what he can and can't say.

“Besides,” he finishes after a second. “It’s safer in here and I don’t have to burden Jongin anymore. So I’m not just going to up and leave.”

Jonghyun's hand is warm and steady on his back, but Jonghyun's shoulder rises and falls as he takes a shuddering breath. “You don't know that,” he murmurs again, shuddering, but he doesn't say anything else. Doesn't complain about Taemin talking about not burdening Jongin when he's literally leaning on Jonghyun right now.

And Taemin can't help himself. “Did you mean what you said?” he asks, leaning back to look at Jonghyun. “Look, I know I'm fucked up and I'm high maintenance, and I can be difficult to handle sometimes, but...” He swallows hard. “God, I can't figure out if you make me feel safe or terrified or both, and I just... if I could stop being scared of you, if I could have a safe place here...”

Jonghyun looks shaken, but he nods tightly. “I know I fuck up a lot, but Tae... I'm trying here. And I don't want you to be afraid. No one deserves that. And god, you maybe couldn't have picked a shittier person, because I can barely take care of myself sometimes, but whatever I can do for you, I'm here. I'll do it. You just have to understand that I'm not always-- that I get--”

“I know,” Taemin says quietly. He hopes he can be okay with that. He wants to be okay with that. If Jonghyun swears he wont hurt him, he wants to believe him. “I'm-- I'll help you too. As much as I can. I don't want you hurting either. And... whenever you're ready to talk about why you're in here, I'll listen, okay?”

Jonghyun goes stiff, just for a moment, and then lets out a huff of laughter, almost bitter. Taemin doesn't quite understand why, but at least Jonghyun is nodding, and he touches Taemin like a question, his eyes flickering to Taemin's mouth before they go back up.

“It's fine,” Taemin says, and kisses Jonghyun softly before Jonghyun has to worry about it. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me,” Jonghyun says. “I'm here.”

It's true. Jonghyun is there, through the night. Taemin doesn't sleep, can't possibly begin to, but even when Jonghyun dozes, he wakes easily to Taemin's slightest shift, holding him safe and steady through the night.

--

Next Chapter

[dark-unimaginably-stupid-kids]

Take the edge off- Pt1.

Figured I’d just go ahead and post this now, not finished yet, not even to the point of the “teaser” bit here but I’m heading out in a little bit and wanted to post SOMETHING.

So, without further ado, I foray back into the land of fan-fiction and feel shitty cause I’m actually trash.

I’m not ace and know very little about the concept so if you want to make any corrections to the minor portrayal here by all means please educate me. I really just wanted Keith and Pidge to have reasons to hold hands and be adorable.

This was supposed to be for Keith’s birthday but what with the assault and breakdown it kinda had to wait.

Fandom- Voltron

Pairing- Keith and Lance, possible Shiro and Allura and MAYBE Pidge and Hunk. Maybe.

Rating- Uhm. Idk yet. Gonna be super gay though for suuuuuure.

You don’t initially like the taste of it on your tongue, but you figure if he’s doing it then it’s got to be worth it, right?

It burns on the way down and you’re feeling even more inclined to stop, but you glance up at him through shy lashes and there’s that stupidly endearing smile on his lips and your heart thuds loudly in your chest and you just want to feel closer to him.

So you take another drink.

---

This morning you woke from bed planning to do just what you do every day in the castle of lions. Train, eat, train, save the universe from certain peril, try not to stare at Lance, train some more and pass out.

But somehow you’d lost track of the days.

Well, not somehow, you’d been actively avoiding considering the days for some time now. In fact, the second you got Shiro alone you were going to chew him out for even mentioning it to the others because why on earth—or anywhere else for that matter—would you want to celebrate your birthday?

You spent so many of them miserable and alone and it was just a constant reminder of your useless existence—

“It won’t be too bad Keith, I promise, you might even enjoy yourself a little,” Shiro says over breakfast while Hunk goes on about tonight’s “Party Menu.”

“I don’t want a party Hunk, I mean—thank you, really. Just. Can’t we just act like it’s any other day?” You try.

You try but Hunk just rolls his eyes at you, “Uh? No. Besides, we could all totally use the break. Just relax and enjoy it birthday boy.”

“No one gets out of being fawned over Keith, it’s your turn,” Pidge volunteers bluntly.

You spare her a scathing glance because you remember her birthday and how quickly she’d gone from, “It’s no big deal” to “I’m the birthday princess bitch!” after some choice “fawning” that you were absolutely certain was not going to work on you.

Just because she eventually got into it did not mean you would.

“It will be fun,” Allura pressed, the warmest of her smiles ebbing away at your very soul. Most days Allura’s overwhelming warmth was a welcomed intrusion into your head but today you quietly wished you’d never left your room and thus never had to look at any of them.

“Gah…!” you groan to no one in particular, vaguely resigning to your fate. The last birthday had been Lance’s and that had actually been a pretty great night spent playing games and laughing and—okay, maybe you just enjoyed the excuse to be around Lance while he was in too good of a mood to let himself get annoyed by whatever you could possibly do to annoy him.

Which was plenty, you’d been told.

Speaking of, “…Where is Lance anyway…?” you say out loud, awkwardly betraying the fact you’d been thinking of him.

Thankfully, the only one of your friends who catches the slip is Pidge who lets out a little throaty scoff and says nothing.

It’s Coran, over a mouth full of something that once resembled Hunk’s attempt at space pancakes, that answers you, “He ran off looking for the mice this morning.”

“The mice?”

Coran shrugged, “s’what he said.”

“Don’t worry about it Keith,” Pidge started after Coran’s words left you quiet and slightly confused, “I’m sure he’d never miss your party.”

None of them thought this statement was at all strange but you felt your chest cease up a bit and you really wished she’d stop.

…

It was her fault, after all, that you were so actively aware of Lance now. She’d come into your room one night, scared the artificial daylight right out of you, and went on a small very personal tirade sitting on the floor next to your bed before you could even register it was her.

“I think,” she’d said finally, “I think I’m ace.”

This woke you up and you immediately crawled off your bed to sit next to her on the floor.

“Well. That’s. uhm. Cool?”

“Is it though? I mean—I used to see people get a lot of flak for it. And I mean, just cause I’m not like… super into kissing anyone or anything doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally want someone to hold my hand or anything and like… wouldn’t my being ace… I dunno, turn people off to wanting to be like that with me? I mean. When they inevitably realize that I don’t… want…” She was so small here next to you and the doubt leaked into her voice so surprisingly easily you weren’t even really sure you were talking to the same girl you fought alien armies with.

Frankly, it bothered you tremendously, but you were not the priority that night, she was and for some reason she had come to you. So.

“Well first off you’re like fifteen and I don’t think you should even be thinking about sex,” you say, hypocritically because you’ve been thinking about it for years when you first noticed how attractive certain classmate’s lower abdomens were in the middle school locker room and how everything would get sort of fuzzy around the edges of your brain for a while after that.

But this was different because this was Pidge and in the short amount of time you’d known her you’d grown to see her as a little sister to be protected and kept far away from terrifying things like penises.

She laughed lightly and rolled her eyes but didn’t look at you.

“Secondly,” you continue, “Sex really isn’t everything. Pidge, you are brilliant and strong and kind and beautiful and someone is going to be made giddy just for the gift of holding your hand.”

“But what if they want more and I don’t—”

“Then they will respect you and not do anything or they’ll meet the business end of Voltron’s sword.”

She chuckled again.

You love that sound. Hell, you love any positive sound coming from anyone of your new family members, bonus points if you helped them make it. It made you feel like you were actually doing something right for a change.

“And third,” you reached for her hand, intertwined your fingers, and held it tightly in yours, “You can hold my hand whenever you want.”

“Yeah,” she laughed outright, a little snort at something she secretly found so funny, “Never have to worry about you wanting something from me, huh?”

Nope! Of course not because—

Wait.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hope you sound as incredibly confused as you are rather than in any way annoyed or accusing.

“Well, cause I’m a girl, duh?”

You blink at her.

She blinks back.

“…Are you trying to tell me you’re still in the closet?” She croaked out suddenly.

Then it makes sense, why Pidge would come to you with this kind of thinking.

“Oh.” Is the only thing that comes out of your mouth.

“I-I mean I won’t out you or anything!” Pidge squeaked suddenly, probably realizing all the toes she could have been stepping on. Eventually you just shake your head.

“Ah. Well I mean. I’m not hiding it or anything I’m just. Surprised you knew? I mean, it’s not like I wear a big ol ‘gay orphan’ sign or anything.”

She flinched at your wording but you’re the one who said it so you can’t bring yourself to consider it.

Her turn to shake her head, “You actually kind of do though? Cause like- I could have sworn from the second we got all these lions together and started our great big mission to defend the universe that you were just—you know. Into Lance.”

Whoa there.

Whoa.

You’re being gay was one thing, not a new development at all, not something you actively felt the need to advertise because it was as much a part of you as your hair being black or the freckles on your shoulder. But being into Lance?

“w-where did you get a crazy idea like that?”

“The way you look at him?”

“Uhm?”

“talk to him?”

“…”

“study him”

“--!” was it getting warmer in here??

“You also get this really cute stutter sometimes.”

At this point you have to release her hand so you can cover your face.

“I-I don’t have any-any idea what you’re t-talking about.”

“That. That stutter. It’s diabetes inducing adorable and it only comes out around or about Lance. Keith come on, you can’t possibly expect…” She twisted herself to look at you head on but suddenly you can’t really think anymore.

You’re just.

Thinking about him and your heart might be beating a little faster and you are suddenly so fucking aware—

“G-god no I… I don’t…I can’t…”

Okay you’ve been in space for a little while and maybe your options on who to think about while laying alone in your bed at night may have been pretty limited and you knew it was wrong and you knew that their being your fucking comrades in arms really wasn’t going to make for acceptable ways to think about them so maybe you’d limited yourself to the one and maybe you thought it was safe because in the waking hours he was just too much of a pain for you to accept how stunning he was but then—

Then he started behaving and then his sarcasm and his jokes and his flirtatious tendencies became endearing. And he was interesting and fun and his smile could light up the room and grazing his arm while walking down the hallway together would send sparks of electricity down your skin and maybe your nights weren’t spent thinking about him aesthetically anymore but instead you were thinking about how he said your name and how is eyebrows would knit together and the sweet encouraging things he could say and—

“…I need to be ejected into space. Good bye Pidge, it was nice getting to spend this time together.” You announce, dropping your hands from your face and staring at the wall straight ahead of you.

She punches you in the shoulder, “Don’t even joke you can’t leave me here.”

You stare at her, sure that your face is conveying how distraught you are at the softening look on her face before you shout, “why the hell am I into Lance?!”

And then she grins.

You really, really wish she hadn’t.

“If it helps,” she starts slyly, “I’m pretty sure he’s into you too.”

You shove her so hard in the side she topples over, “SHUT UP. No he doesn’t. Wow. Pidge.”

Pidge rolls onto her back, holding her side and laughing like a small bespectacled hyena, “Oh my god you just did that. You should see your FACE.”

“PIDGE.”

She wipes the imaginary tears off her face and holds her hand out to you, her shoulders still shaking with her restrained giggles, “Still wanna hold my hand?”

You bite your lip, grab her hand and pull her back up to a sitting position. You don’t let go.

“You’re a jerk.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

“Not as much as you love Lance.”

“Pidge. Please for the love of all that is holy don’t ever say those words in connection to each other ever again.”

…

It’s been a few months since then but your face still burns furiously at the stupid thing your heart decided to do to you. Pidge seemed to be doing just fine coming to terms with herself, and whenever she felt particularly affectionate she had no issues cuddling up to one of her boys, even Allura had gotten an awkward nuzzle that had surprised her but otherwise gone quite well considering Allura’s immense desire to bond with Pidge. But that was a different story altogether.

One your way out of breakfast, Shiro jogs to catch up with you.

You’re still prepared to slaughter him and grin broadly when he says he wanted to go train with you.

Yes, Shiro, let’s make it look like an accident.

Of course, you would never purposefully hurt your closest companion in the entire universe but sometimes you allowed yourself little innocent daydreams where you for once have the upper hand and he’s screaming uncle.

Especially when he starts talking.

“I actually told Allura about your birthday months ago. There really was no way to avoid it.”

“Really? Really? Call you gotta do is not say it. Why was that hard?” You growl out.

He rolls his eyes, “Nah you’re right, clearly I should have lied and said you didn’t have a birthday, you are a figment of our imagination and thus were never actually born yeah?”

He nudges your side and you roll your eyes this time, “The correct response is, ‘It’s no big deal, you don’t need that information.’ Shiro.”

Shiro wraps an arm around your shoulders and though you’re still talking he pulls you back so you’re pressed against his chest. You can hear his heart beat, steady and strong and it’s so soothing to you it almost causes you to melt into him on the spot.

Shiro is alive. Shiro’s existence is the one worth celebrating. Shiro is warm and safe and so many wonderful things.

“It is a big deal Keith, we five paladins of Voltron are defenders of the whole goddamn universe and every single one of us is so incredibly important we should stop and thank the stars in celebration that we were all born. You, most of all, the one who fought so hard and brought us all together. You deserve a happy freaking birthday, Keith.”

Your mind wanders to Allura and Coran, sure that either of them could take your place if need be, sure that it all would have gone the same without you, maybe better without your emotional wreckage self mucking everything up.

But then Shiro kisses our forehead and you breathe deep through your nose and he smells like home.

“Enjoy today, okay?” He says, lips still pressed lightly to your skin.

“Fine.”

“Hey guys, is Keith being a big ol’ grumpy pants again?” Your heart jumps into your throat and Shiro pulls up quickly but doesn’t release his hold on your shoulder.

“When isn’t he.” Shiro started with a chuckle in his throat before changing the subject, “we missed you at breakfast today, Lance.”

The blue paladin stands at his ridiculous height in his ridiculous pajamas and nods, “had some stuff to do. Hunk saved me some grub I’m sure. Right?”

Shiro laughed and you pull out of his hold, for some reason painfully aware of how that might look to someone who didn’t know how close the two of you were. Despite, you know, Lance does know how close you are. It shouldn’t be an issue but you feel the tension ease once your adopted brother’s arm is off your shoulder.

“What were you doing Lance?” You ask carelessly. Maybe a little short. Maybe a little suspicious.

“None of your business, Mullet.” Lance answers back without missing a beat before clapping Shiro on the arm, “Alright, I’ll see you guys tonight. Enjoy whatever it was you two were heading off to do yeah?”

Then he rounded the corner and was gone as quickly as he’d come.

Your heart did not recede from your throat but you don’t think Shiro noticed.

...

You retreat to your room after sparring with Shiro. He works you hard and you are desperately in need of a shower and maybe a nap. Once clean of the sweat and your muscles are starting to relax you flop yourself down onto our bed wrapped in a towel and hear the faint squeak of a mouse that had been disturbed.

It’s the little angry looking blue one that if you were honest was probably your favorite of the three.

“Hey little guy, what are you doing in here?”

It scowls a little bit but reaches up with its little hands and you see there’s a small piece of purple felt stuck to its skin. It tries to pull it off with one hand but it just gets stuck to the other as it wiggles and tries to swat it off.

Must be some really soft material you think, before offering the mouse your finger and easily removing the cloth, one calloused finger against a little prickly rat paw.

The rat beams at you, offers its thanks with a bowed head, and then bounds under the bed.

A few minutes later it returns with more stuck to it and expects you to help him again.

“…” You do, of course, but this time you decide to follow him under the bed and there you find something extremely strange.

It is, for all extents and purposes, a small stuffed hippo.

The other mice as sleeping on it, one opening its eyes every time the little angry one tries to make himself comfortable and ends up getting stuck again. He rips his and free and pulls the hippo apart a little more before realizing you’re watching.

“What do you guys have here…?” You ask finally before reaching under your bed and picking it up.

The sleepy mice get to their feet, startled at being tossed off their new bed and there’s some stuffing leaking out of the hippo’s arm were the first rat had kept trying to make itself comfortable.

The material is extremely sheer and not appropriate for being made into a stuffed animal at all, but the stitching is solid and its very clearly a hippo which brings a small smile to your face.

“Well. This is pretty cute…”

There’s a knock on your door and without waiting for a reply the person on the other side simply lets themselves in.

Its in this millisecond you remember you are only wearing a towel that is choosing just now to fall loose what with all your maneuvering to get the hippo out from under your bed.

You try to tighten the towel but only manage to pull it lose and the ridiculous shriek that breaks from Pidge’s lips as she immediately shuts the door behind her is something that will follow you for the rest of your days.

Until she says to the door and potentially those beyond the door, “NOPE. NOT TODAY. YOU SAW NOTHING.”

With your heart beating a mile a minute you cover yourself properly, put the hippo down, and turn to stare at her in absolute shock.

“…Pidge…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Pidge.”

“I’m sure he didn’t see anything.”

Your heart stops like it crashed into a wall at its breakneck speed, “W-who…!”

“He just wanted me to check your room for the mice. I’msorry.” She says the last bit without a breath and is still facing the door because she clearly doesn’t realize you’ve covered up again but that really doesn’t matter.

“Ch-check for t-th-the mice?”

Who was looking for the mice earlier.

Who was outside that door and got a flash of—

“….I need to be ejected into space.”

“Keith, no!”

…

[coffeewithjoywave]

Long Ass Post Regarding The Bastille Fandom and how it's really Not As Great as it's made out to be

okay

so ive seen a Lot of posts lately praising the bastille fandom for being so “nice and sweet and chill and tolerant” etc etc. and they bother me a lot.

I have nothing against the people making these posts. they’re happy with the corner of the group that they associate with, and that’s fine.

what I do have a problem with is the posts themselves.

they make out like this fandom is so nice and peachy and perfect when if you look even a tiny little bit further away from your own friend group within it, if you scrape a tiny bit under the surface, it’s obvious this is certainly not the case, and nobody acknowledges this. no fandom is perfect, especially not this one.

we have our fair share of sketchy disgusting shit going on. it may not be to the level of certain others but it is there and it’s bad, and the mentality of glossing over that completely is worrying me.

I have a few points I’m gonna go over, mostly relating to this fandoms treatment of Dan, and their treatment of each other.

•1 Treatment of Dan

this is probably mostly in reference to the twitter group of the fandom but it’s bad on tumblr too hoo boy.

to put it bluntly

y'all are fucking THIRSTY and it’s disgusting. because Dan doesn’t have a partner that we know of publicly everyone seems to take that as him being free range and make some pretty Ugly and Disgusting comments towards him- and even worse y'all do it on twitter too, on his tweets, which he can see? the way you talk about him really rubs me up the wrong way.

he’s a human being for god’s sake and i don’t wanna sound like your mum but ACT LIKE YOUD WANT TO BE TREATED YOURSELF.

he is not free for you to treat like you do- and a good mirror for my point of the fact he doesn’t have a partner we know of is: you don’t make those kinds of advances toward woody, do you? y'all know he’s married and you respect that, which is great. but you can’t show the same courtesy towards Dan? (and don’t try to say that woody isn’t as attractive as Dan that has nothing to do with this.).

Even worse is your harassment of anyone involved with Dan’s life like his friends especially his female friends - the AMOUNT OF TIMES i have SEEN speculation about one of his friends or a crew member or anything being his girlfriend- and then you go and harass the poor girls?? what the fuck??? it shouldn’t matter to you if he has a partner and if he does you DONT HARASS THEM LIKE THIS. i find it really hypocritical especially after the whole glory thing.

•1a Treatment of the boys on twitter

I’ve said something about this before but the twitter fandom is SO bad. I’m not very involved with it so i won’t make claims but they’re some of the worst i think mainly because due to the nature of twitter they have direct contact with the band. anyway, twitter fandom is awful, not going further bc y'all know

•2 Treatment of others within the fandom

oh boy! y'all are not all nice as someone who floated around Heaps before i settled within the space I had within the fandom when I was a somewhat active participant in it, I can tell you that a Good Percentage of you in the tumblr section of the fandom are demons. I’ve seen people bully and harass others, send anon hate, more and more and more and i think maybe it’s gotten worse since the second album? the main problem is I think you’re all too overprotective of the band as a whole.

•2a Treatment of the creative side of the fandom

this place is the WORST when it comes to art theft of various incarnations Holy SHIT you steal and repost other people’s edits, their art, their gifs, with no credit and that is Bad. You know it’s bad but do you stop? no. do you check sources? no. you follow and reblog from accounts that repost gifs and you dont give a shit- even when the original watermarks are Right There

And let’s get back into how y'all treat Greg shall we?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it as many times as possible- STOP STEALING HIS PHOTOS. how have you not learned? why do i still see leaked photos going around? why do you not check the source before you reblog? why do i, to this day, see photos from the photobook online when you’ve been specifically told not to post them? it’s ugly and disgusting how you treat creators in this place, especially Greg.

• in conclusion

there’s more to this but this is long enough already. what bothers me the most is how nobody seems to see this? how you praise each other for being so Great and Cool? there’s some great circles of people in here, i agree, a lot of you are really great but there’s still the other side to it there. no fandom is purely nontoxic!! you know that!! it’s worse here than you think it is and that’s what i want you to take away if you got through this long ass terrible post.

sorry for being the one to crash your party but it’s the hard truth and I wish more people were aware of it because this ignorance worries me.

(thanks to joyce for talking with me and helping me think out this post a bit)

[itsclydebitches]

Title: To Forgive, Divine

Fandom: Flash (2014) 

Summary: Months after Flashpoint and Cisco is still giving Barry the cold shoulder. Things are coming to a head and if they ever want to move past this, Cisco will need a little push.Harry was always good at pushing.

Rating: General audiences

Warnings: None (except maybe whiplash from fluff to angst and back again) 

Pairing: None

Status: Complete

Where can I read it? On AO3 or below the cut (AO3 recommended for formatting) 

To Forgive, Divine

“And that’s how it’s done!” Cisco crowed, swinging one arm up around Wally’s shoulders. “Now you just gotta learn that being a superhero isn’t just about kicking bad guy ass... oh wait, that’s exactly what it’s about.”

Iris and Joe were chuckling at their antics, loose-limbed and giddy now that Savitar was safely contained within the Speed Force and Wally had proven that, yes, he was more than up for the task of playing superhero. Even so, Caitlin was already trotting up with a handheld biometric reader, her smile only growing as the results came back exactly as before: perfect metabolic rate despite the high speed and exertion; physical perfection overall. There was a joke about how that was unlikely—didn’t you pack away four jalapeño pizzas before that fight?—and HR used the opening to brag just the tinniest bit. Hadn’t it been such a grand idea to train Wallace? Look at all that weaving and dodging! The fact that Joe only chuckled indulgently at that was a testament to how far they’d come. There was an intimacy to the group that had finally solidified and only continued to grow. In the background the screens played crowds cheering Kid Flash’s name. In a flash of familiar lightning Wally changed back into his clothes, depositing his suit on the one available mannequin.

Everything was perfect and no one noticed Barry slipping from the room.

***

“We need to do something about this,” Caitlin sighed, eyeing the multi-dimensional portal with just a hint of unease. “I mean, it’s probably Harry. Right? 90% chance it’s Harry.”

Cisco made a noncommittal noise. He wanted to make the same hand motion, but he was currently holding a very powerful rifle that did... something. Something with a strong kickback, no doubt. Shit, he hoped he didn’t have to actually fire the thing.

“More like 87%” he countered. “We need passwords.”

Caitlin nodded. “Codes. Like SG-1.”

“You know Stargate?”

“I wanted to be a theoretical astrophysicist before I got into bio-engineering.”

“You wanted to be Samantha Carter, is what you mean.”

“...Yeah. Only reason I’d even consider going blonde.”

Cisco grinned, thinking that right there was the closest thing to a joke about Killer Frost that Caitlin had ever made. He was about to suggest that they weasel honorary military ranks out of Dig—to go with his honorary police badge—when the portal gave a sudden, massive lurch and deposited Harry at their feet. He was up on his knees by the time Jesse came speeding through next.

“Glad I didn’t have to shoot this,” Cisco said amiably, giving Harry a hand up. The portal closed with a sound like something caught in the vacuum. “Also you need an access code.”

“Like Stargate?”

“Yes. Fucking same wavelength, man, I love it.”

He did too. It was a decent day all around, Cisco thought, what with Wally stopping the bad guys and Harry gracing them with an impromptu visit. Cisco was only half-listening to the marginally frantic way Harry had cornered Caitlin, blathering on about how Jesse (sitting slumped against the railway, rolling her eyes) wasn’t getting nearly enough calories each day, even with their improved energy bars, and he’d run a number of tests with no discernible problems, but maybe you could find something...? And she found something all right. One critical look at Jesse was all Caitlin needed. She wrapped professionalism around herself like a safety blanket and asked, straight faced as she could, if Harry recalled caloric intake increasing right before certain times of the month...

While he was choking Cisco caught a glimpse of Jesse’s bright red cheeks. “I tried to tell him,” she muttered.

Caitlin patted Harry’s arm. He looked a little pole-axed. “She’ll be fine. She just needs a bit more than Barry once in a while.” Suddenly, a strange look crossed Caitlin’s face. “Oh... I wonder how much Jesse would need if she got pregnant.”

“NO—” Harry roared at the same time that Jesse stood, shouting out a pre-emptive defense. It was only her wobble that kept Harry in line, going from pit-bull to protective puppy in an instant. He guided her back to the floor as Caitlin ran out to fetch more bars. Cisco stealthily snapped a pic.

Yes, definitely a decent day. It was one of those lull moments, the kind he’d really only come to appreciate once his life had started getting threatened every other hour. Danger made you appreciate the simple stuff. Like Red Vines. Good movies. Better friends. Caitlin ran back in apologizing for the “iffy” flavor of this batch while Jesse downed the mints Harry had found hiding in his jeans pocket. The West family was waiting with dinner a few hours down the line and the S.T.A.R. alarms had yet to blare some awful warning, further damaging their ear drums. Cisco was going to count this day as a win.

So why did things feel so off?

It was something about Jesse’s cheeks, still flushed from the fussing and sudden sugar intake. Except it wasn’t really Jesse at all, just that bright, familiar red color—

Cisco, genius that he was, didn’t get it until Harry had lifted his head, brow furrowed.

“Where the hell is Allen?”

***

Each member of Team Flash had two cell phones on them at all times—one for everyday use and one that was disposable—and of course, Barry had been out of his coma for all of an hour before Cisco had added them all to a group chat. It had changed a lot over the years. “Dr. Wells” had been viciously deleted. A lot of new names had been added. It was mostly a space for playful bitching and quick coffee orders. It could act as an emergency alert.

Anyone seen Barry? (Or hey Barry, wanna just answer?) ~ Jesse

He didn’t answer and for the next ten minutes their phones buzzed with all the obligatory excuses. He was probably working late at CCPD. Or out picking off minor thugs for stress relief. Maybe he ran to Star City? No wait, definitely thugs. Wally chimed in that Barry had been in his suit the last anyone had seen him.

There was a collective sigh of relief when Caitlin pulled up his vitals. One supernaturally fast heart, beating as expected.

HR tapped the screen with his drumstick. “See? Kid’s fine. Look at that ticker! Bet you he just ran off to get some air. Heh, running. I mean, he’s a speedster right? Little jaunt for him is likely to take him halfway across the country.”

“Yeah,” Caitlin agreed, rubbing her mouth. She didn’t look particularly happy about that reminder. “I just wish he’d answer his phone...”

“Why the hell would he do that? It’s not like Barry’s reliable nowadays.”

Four heads turned his way and Cisco realized with a pang that he really hadn’t meant for that to sound so cold… It was true though. Everyone else might be willing to forget that Flashpoint had ever happened, but Cisco had actually lost something important through Barry’s meddling.

He crossed his arms and tightened his hands. The only other movement was HR’s awkward shifting and Jesse, swinging her head between Cisco and the rest of the team.

It was Harry who spoke first.

“Come,” he said, a one word command. He raised a finger in emphasis and stalked out of the Cortex, not bothering to look back and see if Cisco was following. He just left in a... well, flash.

Cisco grimaced.

“This should be fun,” he muttered and amidst varying degrees of support slumped his way out too.

***

“You’re not still moping about your brother are you?”

Back down in the breach room and Cisco was suddenly glad he had a metal railing beneath his hands. He hadn’t realized how much of a hair trigger that still was, his knuckles spasming white as he squeezed.

He relaxed deliberately, turning to smile at Harry. Nothing about the expression was genuine.

“Wow,” he breathed. “Gone a few weeks and you come back even more of a dick. Congratulations, dude! Want me to make you a trophy?”

Harry only tilted his head. He had a funny little smile of his own going on. “I’m a correct dick though, aren’t I? You’re holding a grudge.”

“Of course I’m holding a grudge!”

Cisco didn’t realize he’d stepped forward until he was right up in Harry’s space, his body acting like it could actually take on the 6-foot, highly trained, ex-soldier. All Harry did was spread his hands though. He gestured for them to sit.

Cisco’s legs were shaking as he did.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Never mind that. Answer me this, Ramon,” Harry said it all softly. “Do you want your brother back?”

“The hell kind of a question—”

“Just answer it.”

Cisco ground his teeth together. “Of course I do.”

“Of course you do,” Harry agreed, still in that soft, foreign tone. “Would you do anything to get him back?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. Even change the timeline?”

“Yes. I begged Barry to do that for months!” and no it didn’t matter if that technically wasn’t the Barry he had now. The refusal still stung. “If he had just—”

“You’re a hypocrite.”

Cisco’s mouth snapped shut with an audible clap! It took him a moment, but when he got his brain back online it felt overly hot in his skull, pulsing out into his eyes and sinuses—threatening something like tears.

“Excuse me?”

Harry laughed. “You heard me. Look at you. You’re willing to do the exact thing you’re condemning Allen for. You’d screw up this timeline even more if given the chance, just for your own personal gain. Hell, you just admitted that you’ve begged for it. Repeatedly. Grab a dictionary, Ramon. You’re gonna find your ugly mug plastered next to ‘hypocrite.’”

Cisco threw up his hands. “I only want to do that to fix what Barry broke!”

He just got a Look for that argument, a clear ‘you’ll have to try harder than that’ message. They were pressed thigh-to-thigh and arm-to-arm now, and if Cisco had been in a better place he’d have remembered that Harry rarely let anyone touch him like this—that this was a basic 101 comforting measure, a way of grounding him when it felt like everything else was falling apart. But Cisco wasn’t in that place (wouldn’t be until hours later) so he used the closeness only to whirl on Harry, going for a kill of his own.

“Like you wouldn’t do the same for Jesse,” he spit.

“Oh, I’d tear the multi-verse apart to get her back,” he said, with such conviction that it sent a chill down Cisco’s spine. “But, as we’ve already established, you and your merry band of misfits are better people than I’ll ever be. Besides,” he leveled another Look. “You can’t compare the two. She’s my daughter. From what I’ve heard, you and Dante were estranged for most of your life. Barely got along.”

Cisco wasn’t much of a puncher, but he’d never been closer to decking someone with all he had. Maybe it was the implicit accusation. More likely, it was hearing his brother’s name for the first time in weeks, other than in the back of his own head. Either way, Harry’s whole body was tense and ready for that possible hit. He didn’t move away though.

“Don’t... don’t you dare say I didn’t love him,” Cisco whispered, voice wet.

“I didn’t say that. You loved him. You do, even after all the fighting and hardly ever seeing each other. Just... take that feeling for a second. Now imagine Barry’s instead: losing a mother... and after Zoom severed his dad’s heart in half. You of all people know what that’s like.”

And oh, that was a feeling alright; an awful tightening in his chest as the memory of Thawne’s hand went tearing through Cisco once more. Except maybe it was something a little more mundane, because the feeling bubbled up as an ordinary sob.

God he hated crying. Bad enough to be the short nerdy kid his whole life, but Cisco’s face did this horrible blotchy thing whenever he cried. No pretty tear-tracks here, folks. He was all obnoxious noises and snot, scrubbing a shirtsleeve over his eyes and crying harder because dammit the abrasive cuffs hurt.

“Hell, I’m not good at this,” Harry sighed, but he tugged Cisco against him nonetheless. Cisco collapsed there, too aware of the awkward fingers trying to thread through his hair. “Jesse cried. Fuck she used to bawl. Pretty sure this woman was close to calling child services that time I wouldn’t get her an ice cream.”

Cisco barked out a hysterical laugh.

“Uh huh. What a brat I’ve got.” It was probably the most fond he’d ever heard Harry sound. “Funny though, she’s not the only brat I’ve felt like I’ve been raising recently. Go to Earth 2 to save one kid and come back with... what? Six?”

Cisco squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a massive breath. “Seven if you include HR.”

“...that’s horrifying on a number of levels, but I suppose so.”

It was familiar, this back and forth, and it gave Cisco the strength to push himself back up, blinking rapidly at Harry before he gave his shoulder a firm pat. “You know, you’re actually not totally shit at this.”

“Build me a trophy for that then.” Harry suddenly sobered. “Right. Is what I’m saying penetrating that idiot brain of yours at all?”

Cisco winced. “You’re not subtle about it, but... yeah. I’m not blind, okay? Wally being a speedster prodigy is obviously getting to Barry and he’s been giving me space for months now. Time for me to be the big man then, right? Forgive him, move on, blah, blah, blah, I just... I don’t know how. How to start that.”

Harry gave his back a final slap and used it as leverage to stand. “You already have. It’s not going to be the same as it was before, but it can be better than this. You’re smart enough to figure that out.” Here Harry hesitated, for the first time that night looking like he was truly out of his depth. He worked his mouth helplessly for a moment. No spit, Cisco thought.

“Cisco... for whatever it’s worth coming from me, in many ways you have shown me what it’s like to have a son.”

He stared, a good ten seconds passing between them. Cisco didn’t have words to express what that meant to him, in Harry’s voice instead of Thawne’s. Screw biology. They were nothing alike.

Hmm. Abort, abort. Make a joke instead.

“… Holy shit. Who are you and what have you done with Harry?”

“I’ll deny I ever said it,” Harry called because he was already beating a hasty retreat, leaving Cisco to once more pick up and follow him.

***

Their group was complete by the time they got back. Well, almost.

“Where have you two been?” Joe asked, opening up a mess of pizza boxes and shoving it their way. Harry grabbed a slice and went to join Jesse. She was already demolishing a pie all on her own.

“Nowhere,” he sniped around the pepperoni.

Caitlin and Iris exchanged a look, the latter looking like she wanted to call Cisco out on his bright eyes and runny nose. Some message passed between them though and she graciously didn’t ask.

“Have you been crying?” HR blurted loudly. There were groans all around. Wally face-palmed dramatically. “What? What did I say?”

“Thanks, man. Thanks for that.” Cisco shook his head, weaving around Caitlin waylaying HR (“We need to work on your interpersonal skills...”) and threw himself into his usual chair. With everyone watching—and feeling their gaze—Cisco opened up the program that connected him directly to the communication device in Barry’s suit.

Quiet descended. It wasn’t lost on anyone that this was the first time he’d willingly initiated a conversation.

“Hey, Barry,” Cisco said. He winced a little at his own overly loud voice. “C’mon, man, get your ass back here already. We need you.”

Caitlin took a step forward, a spark of hope lighting up in the back of her eyes. “There’s no emergency,” she pointed out.

Cisco made sure the line was still open.

“I know. Didn’t say there was an emergency, just that we needed him.”

When it finally came down the line the voice was so quiet Cisco nearly missed it: “...be there in five.”

It was all they needed though. A collective sigh blew through the Cortex. Cisco grabbed blindly at the nearest box, hardly realizing that he was grinning until he was trying to shove hot cheese into his mouth.

“Better hurry, dude. Pizza’s gonna be gone in a flash.”

[drmuller7077universe]

MLP EG Rollercoaster of CringeShip (parody review)

How’s it gonna everyone..its ya boi BETA MALE here bringing you another shitty MLP blog..

Someone: Müller why do you even bother uploading to tumblr when you know your shit at comedian

Well here’s the thing my child, I upload to Tumblr because I feel that some people actually give two flying donkey wangs on what I have to said, all 26 of them...now bare in mind maybe not all of the want to read a blog the size of MAH-

anyway moving on to the review, ya know watching the first 4 minutes of the show was like watching Luna’s decent screen time...

*whispers* h-hey guys there’s if you were paying attention...when I meant “decent” I meant like 1, singular episode of her actually having good screen time,

sure there was that episode when Starlight accidentally changed their butt-tattoos and that had Luna in it...it wasn’t a standalone episode but we still actually got to see her it an episode

Now I know I’m going off topic again, I’m going to be doing that a lot in my upcoming “I am Depressed...lol” blog

(note: I joke about Depression a lot, I mean no harm to those who ACTUALLY have depression, unlike the multiply blogs you get on a daily bases)

Someone: THIS IS A REVIEW CUNT, HURRY UP...I HAVE SOMEONE TO DOXX IN A MINUTE, PLUS RAID A HARMLESS FURRY COMMUNITY

anyway back on topic, the program just starts off with my all time favourite part of the show, IN-TRO, IN-TRO, IN-TRO....

fucking kill me

so the show starts with Vignette Valencia who I like to call, Fluttershy’s evil sister, and some Russia woman who sounds like Zarya from Overwatch, just ya know the sort of argument bad guys have before they commit a crime

Bad guy 1: Cumrade ve need more of people

bad guy 2: yase we need meh people cumrade

then one of her worker who has the IQ of 200 decides, I’m not getting enough V-bucks in GTA 5 so Imma quit and go play Roblox, then Fluttershy’s Evil sister in law complains about how she wishes things could go her way..

Vignette: I wish I got that Tactical Nuke in MW2

then out of no where she gets that killstreak, using it on a bowl of salad

RIP Salad my you get tons and tons of virgins

then she thinks to herself

“I’m gonna use this streak on people, if they don’t do as I say”

Guys Cmon cut me some slack I’m really trying with the jokes.....I’m desperate!!!

then it cuts to our all time favourite Characters, the Main 7....

you just get them having a basic bitch conversation,

Pinkie: I love fun

Fluttershy: silent

Twilight: I’m smarter than you..lol

Rarity: I’m gonna be a lead designer for my friend I met online

then they decide to go meet this “friend” of Rarity’s, as usual the main villain comes out polite and happy, and innocent, but little do they know about what really is installed for them.

So Rarity meets Vignette, they talk for a bit while Rarity’s true waifu a.k.a Applejack gets jealous and gets suspicious of her..

so the next part is basically Applejack bitching about the fact that her waifu cheated on her and is now going vegan (Kill me) there’s the odd adult joke when Applejack finds a tweet (Equestria girls Twitter) of Vignette saying hashtag bangs, while biting her finger....I could tell hasbro is well aware of the dark side of the fandom...lmao...

Vignette throughout the episode traps each of the six in her magical phone of killstreaks without anyone knowing, until the remaining six found out about what she was doing and had epic showdown...lol, only to found out they befriended her like the last 50 villains...

I knew it was fucking going to happen guy’s, it’s nothing new to Equestria girls, it’s “we feel sorry for you, and we’ll make you feel happy by allowing you to do that thing you weren’t allowed to do in the first place” in all honesty I watched bits of it hoping it would interest me, so I kind of made most of it up as I went along, but let’s face it, most of these points I’ve made are probably true

Someone: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME CUNT, YOU DIDN’T EVER WATCH THE WHOLE THING, YOU HYPOCRITICAL PIECE OF SHI-

Ssh, ssh, ssh, ssh, shh...it’s ok...I know, calm down, it’s ok....I got the point in the first place, but if I a, correct that’s exactly what happened

1. Intro

2. Bad guy finds secret weapon

3. Bad guy acts nice in front of friends

4. Bad guy secretly kidnaps good guys thoughts/mind/memories

5. Bad guy and good guys have showdown

6. Bad guy is good guy now because good guys give her/him chance

7. Shitty moral lesson that’s exactly the same as the last hundred morals but we’re going to write the same moral but written and said differently

8. End credits

now I know it’s doesn’t go in that particular order, but face it most of the Equestria girls episodes do....I think....I haven’t watched all of them.....

Someone: FUCKING PIECE OF SH-

Eh, eh, eh, eh sit your little ass down, I ain’t done...well kind of....please continue...

Someone: DELETE YOUR TUMBLR BLOG KID

Anyway guys hope you liked that little parody on a completely shitty analysis

Make sure to subscribe for more fortnite let’s play videos and enjoy the rest of your day..lol

[this-is-your-heichou-speaking]

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Harry Potter Characters: Loki (Marvel), Harry Potter, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Master of Death Harry Potter, But Loki doesn't know, Harry Potter & Tony Stark Friendship, just a little

Manic

"Harry?" There was a surprised note in the man's voice as he came across his lover. He attempted to cover it, but it was already too late for that - Harry understood just fine. Despite everything, his lover hadn't foreseen his interruption. 'Does he think that little of me?' he thought, but he didn't turn or reply. His back tensed slightly against his will as he felt the taller man near him and put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. When he still didn't respond, the grip tightened and he was turned to face the one man he hated and loved more than anything. "Harry," the voice was soothing now, gentle as if to coerce a small, frightened animal out of its hiding spot. He cringed internally at the comparison. Was that what he'd become now? Had he, the one who rid the wizarding world of the dark Lord that terrorised it, become so complacent? He hated himself for it, and promised to himself he wouldn't let it happen again. "Loki," his voice was calm in response, almost blasé, and Loki frowned before he could stop himself. "What are you doing here?" he asked, annoyance audible in his voice. Harry smiled, deliberately putting on an uncaring front. "Tony is my friend, Loki, I'm just visiting. The real question is, what are you doing here?" 

The grip on his shoulder tightened until he feared it might bruise, but he didn't lose the calm smile on his face. Loki's eyes grew darker in anger as his other hand came up to his face and his fingers tightened around his chin. "Will you betray me too, love?" he asked, voice silky and low. Harry laughed bitterly, glaring a little. "Betray you?" He asked sarcastically. "And what do you call this, Loki dearest?" He waved a negligent hand over the view of the city, and already there was smoke rising from collapsing buildings. Already, there were people running around in fear and pain. "This is for us, Harry," Loki started, but Harry shook his head gently. Loki's fingers gripped his chin until he couldn't move it again, but Harry didn't care. "It's for you, Loki. All the people I sacrificed my childhood for, spent my life saving. What did I do it for?" "They did not deserve you!" Loki snarled, incensed. "They hurt you, took and took and what did you get in return except pain and abandonment? They are all worthless," his voice softened suddenly, a smile creeping onto his face. "You told me yourself, Harry, how they turned on you at the drop of a hat. You wondered what you did wrong, but the truth is that humans are just like that. It is in their nature." "How are you any different from Voldemort, Loki?" Harry asked softly, sadly. Their lips were ever closer now, and Harry could hear the desperation in his voice but what was the point in hiding it, anymore? He loved this man, even as he hated everything Loki stood for. Even as he hated the man for what he was doing. "How could you compare me to him, Harry?" his lover seemed amazed at the comparison, incredulous. "I would never hurt you." "You'd hurt them." He said, neglecting to say how Loki was hurting him even now, grip firm enough to maybe leave bruises, and lies piling up high enough to make him wonder if he'd ever even known the real Loki, if he'd always just loved a mask. "They are mortals, Harry. Vermin." "So am I." He whispered. 'So was I.' Loki stared at him, their mouths touching every time either of them spoke now, soft breath against each other's lips and Harry just wanted to kiss him, so badly. He didn't. "You're different," and Loki's eyes were pleading with him. Harry laughed sharply. He tried to move his face away, dislodge the hand holding his face still, but Loki was holding onto his waist now, another hand on his nape, and he was pressed so close that Harry could feel every part of him against every inch of his body. He hated it, but for a minute he wished they'd be frozen here, in this time, because he didn't know if they could ever be like this again. He didn't know if Loki could still love him after this. "Do you hear yourself?" he asked. He tried to calm his breathing, to calm his head. It wouldn't do to jump onto his lover violently, or to burst out crying. Or both. "You're a hypocrite, Loki." The man holding him froze, so still and cold he might literally have turned to ice. "Even you...?" Harry wanted to scream at the look of hurt in Loki's eyes. This wasn't what he wanted, and the urge to wrap his arms around the man and whisper endearments in his ear was almost overwhelming. Still, he held himself still. "Stop it, please," he said instead, watching as the betrayal grew. "I can't-" he broke off as Loki moved suddenly, and then there were lips on his own, teeth scraping at his mouth and tongue dancing with his own, until he could barely breathe. His mouth hurt, but he couldn't stop, couldn't let go because what if he never saw Loki again? What if this man didn't stop for him, and decided this invasion was more important than Harry? How would he live with himself, and live for such a long, long time. Not that Loki knew. Oh God, Loki didn't know. The kiss - though it was more of a brutal assault - finally came to an end and for a moment Harry didn't know why, but then Loki's chest was rumbling under his hands as he spoke, face turned away from him, and he realised there was someone else there. "Tony?" he gasped as he set eyes on the red-yellow armour, and the man smirked back. "Comfortable there, Sparkles?" His face went red, and all of a sudden the tiled flooring seemed incredibly interesting, but he didn't move out of Loki's arms. He couldn't find it in himself to step away yet, and Loki's arms tightened to prevent it just in case. "You sure know how to pick 'em." The man continued, undeterred by Harry's lack of a response. It was said in a teasing tone, but Harry could detect the undercurrent of sympathy underneath it, and he suddenly felt so very tired. His grip tightened where his hands lay on Loki's chest, fingers curling into the little amount of green fabric there was amongst metal and leather. "What can I say?" he muttered, smiling sadly. "I suppose I do." Tony didn't say anything else, merely turned to Loki, who stood glaring at him. "So, what's it gonna be, Reindeer Games?" The man positively snarled at him in response. "There are no choices here, Man of Iron. You will stand down, or I will make you." "See, I really can't do that." Tony snapped down the faceplate of his suit, readying himself. Loki turned from Harry, reaching for his sceptre, and Harry gripped onto him to pull him back. "Please, please Loki. Don't do this." He sounded pathetic, he knew, but he just wanted- "Don't you beg, Gandalf," Tony growled from behind his suit, voice coming through speakers and not sounding any less fierce for it. "He doesn't deserve that, and you deserve so much more." Harry closed his eyes in defeat as Loki took offense to that and ripped away from him, stalking over to Tony. He looked beautiful even now, elegance and power in every line of his body. Harry hurt at the thought of fighting him, but even now he knew he would. Once again, he had to do what was right. Loki approached Tony confidently, his handsome face twisted into an ugly sneer, and made to swing his sceptre only to be blasted away by Tony, who didn't wait for him to recover before laying into him. Harry shook himself out of his stupor, looking away from his lover and the hate in his every motion. He wrapped his arms around him, and apparated. The next few hours were spent evacuating people and stabilising buildings so they wouldn't collapse and take innocent lives. He tried not to keep up with matters over by the tower, but he couldn't deny that - despite knowing it was wrong - a part of him yearned to help the man he loved. He was stronger than that though, and if he hadn't bowed to the Dursleys and Voldemort then he wouldn't bow to Loki either, no matter how much he loved him. And then he could feel Loki hurting as he was beat through the link they shared, and when he made it back to the tower to see the man unconscious and subdued, he realised that Tony - his best friend Tony - was flying a nuke up through the wormhole. He felt frozen as he watched, Loki's head in his lap, as the seconds passed and Tony did not return, fingers clenching in fear. He gasped when Tony reappeared just as the portal closed, only to shout out wordlessly when he realised he wasn't flying, but falling. Scrambling up as quickly as he could, Harry apparated to a closer building and pointed his wand at the falling figure in red and yellow, mind flashing back to when he'd been in a somewhat similar position - except, of course, that he'd been the person doing the falling that time, and that it happened during a game of quidditch. "Arresto Momentum!' he shouted desperately, hoping against hopes that he was close enough, powerful enough, quick enough. The figures watching from down below didn't seem to know which way to look, but eventually Tony had safely landed and Harry watched long enough to know he was awake before going back to Loki. He was awake again when Harry came back, glaring balefully at the ceiling as if it was the cause of all the faults in the world. His eyes slid over to Harry as the younger man walked in, eyes softening slightly but not losing the anger. He couldn't move - Harry had made sure of that, but now that he was here the wizard cast Incarcerous and then un-petrified him, helping him sit up with gentle hands. He didn't look up as he did this, but he didn't have to - Loki's displeasure was practically coming off him in waves. They were silent for a long while, sitting there, before Loki finally gave in. "What are you doing here?" he muttered, clearly upset. Harry chanced a glance up at his face, fiddling uselessly with his fingers. He shook his head, questioning. "Where else would I be?" He asked softly. Loki snorted. "With your pet heroes, my dear, celebrating the defeat of your enemy." A wave of anger went through him at his lover's words. He scowled angrily, glaring into Loki's eyes. "How dare you," he whispered, incensed. "Don't you turn this on me! I warned you, I told you-" "You betrayed me!" Loki shouted, skin gaining a faint bluish tinge as he lost control of himself. "You were supposed to take my side-" "Are you serious?" Harry exclaimed incredulously. "You were in the wrong, Loki. You would have murdered thousands, and I was supposed to stand by and let you?" The man snorted, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have expected more from you," he muttered. "You're just a human after all, even if you have magic. You're just like the rest of them." Harry straightened his back, clenching his fists hard enough that his nails were this side of drawing blood from his palms. "I'm not just human, Loki," he said, voice deceptively calm. "I was, once, but I haven't been for a long time." Saying so, he let his tight hold on his magic slip, let Loki sense the change in his core and taste his magic anew. The other's eyes widened as he sensed what Harry was, and he seemed to draw into himself as he stared at the younger in shock. "You..." He mumbled, eyes wide as if he'd never seen Harry before. The wizard wrapped his arms around himself defensively in response. Loki leaned forward slightly, closing his eyes as if losing himself. "It's so potent," he whispered. "Delicious." Harry's cheeks reddened almost instantaneously, and his eyes widened. He had expected many reactions, but this wasn't one. "I- I didn't know how to tell you," he said, voice shaky. He wasn't sure what to do with himself anymore, and the anger from earlier seemed to just disappear. "I wanted to, but then-" "Hush," Loki interrupted, moving closer even with his hands tied behind his back. "I could never have dreamed-" he kissed Harry, briefly, on the lips, leaving him feeling as if he were frozen. "You're mine," he hissed, nudging Harry's nose with his own affectionately. "Of course I am," Harry whispered. "But it doesn't change what you did, Loki. It doesn't make it okay." "I'm sorry," his lover told him, looking at him fondly. "My Master of Death," he chuckled, "who could have guessed?" Harry frowned, feeling a little apprehensive. He looked at Loki carefully. "It doesn't make it okay, Loki," he said again. "You know what that means?" "Of course," his lover replied smoothly, but he didn't seem upset - just strangely relieved. "Okay..." Harry murmured. "So, ummm, Thor will probably be here in a while, to take you up to Asgard - why aren't you upset?" he exclaimed incredulously. The man just looked at him, all soft eyes and gentle smiles, and Harry flushed, confused. "You might be put away for decades," he breathed, staring at Loki wide-eyed. "Why are you not upset?" "I thought you would die," Loki replied finally. He leant forwards, pushing his nose into the crook where Harry's neck joined his shoulder, and breathed in deeply. Harry found he couldn't move, not closer and not away, as cold realisation flooded him. "You thought I would... die." They stayed like that for a second as Harry processed the thought, and Loki knew exactly when he had, because Harry threw himself forward into his lap with a wordless cry, holding him tightly to himself as if he'd never let go. "I'm sorry," he sobbed, and Loki's arms twitched as if he wished he could wrap his arms around Harry in turn, but he was unable. He settled for leaning his cheek against the top of Harry's head, breathing in the warm scent of home the man exuded. "It is okay," he whispered soothingly, and who would have dreamed that Loki would ever be the one comforting, the one reassuring anybody else? He pressed his lips to wild black curls fleetingly, smiling at the way arms tightened around his waist. "It is okay," he repeated. "It will be fine." And it would be. Loki had killed hundreds, tried to take away the world's freedom and rule it, and though a large part of him had wanted it, he knew that it was the anger at abandonment by Odin and Thor - his supposed family, and fear of his apparently mortal lover's impending death that had pushed him to agree to the bargain with the titan, where before he would never bow and take orders from anyone. But it didn't matter now - he was done. He would come clean about everything to Harry, from Thor's banishment to his bid to take over the world. In a while, he'd be taken to Asgard to stand trial, and he'd likely be put away for decades, but knowing he'd still see Harry alive and well when he came out of the other side made it seem a much smaller punishment. There was still anger inside him, hate for Odin who'd lied to him and Thor who'd upstaged him at every turn, hate for all of the Asgardians who'd ever looked down their nose and sneered at him and his magic and called him weak, and maybe this was all a way to prove them wrong too. But in the end, he loved Harry so much more than any of that. He didn't think he could ever forget, but he was sure he could move past it. With time.