#to be clear i always hated him as an artist but like everyone i assumed it ws just a costume he put on

[wild-at-mind]

Just remembering when I was waiting for bf to get his tatt done and looking at the magazines, they had one of those extreme body mods magazines which was interesting. I have never understood why people get this kind of body mod, but I'm trying to work on being more open minded. And from this magazine I can see clearly that the ethos is 'my body is mine and I should be allowed to choose to do these things to it', which resonates. And as a trans person I would hope I wouldn't forget that transphobes call transition 'irrepairable damage' and self harm. (I can remember watching those early 2000s documentaries where surgery for transition was basically framed as an extreme body mod to be looked at for shock value.)

So I'm looking at this magazine, all open minded like, and then suddenly one of the models (who was being interviewed for something else, like he had his dick split in two or something) just casually is like oh yeah I have tonnes of different types of swastika tattooed on my arm. And sure enough, then there's a pic of like...20 swastikas done in different ways all on one area of his arm.

:[

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Idol!Kim Seungmin x F!Reader TW : assumed cheating ; general angst ; fluff at the end ; Word Count : 5.1k Request : pls pls pls angst/fluff w seungmin 🙏🏼

5… “She’s coming down the hallway right now…” 4… “I don’t think they look good together either…” 3… “Can’t believe he actually invited her to the show tonight looking like that…” 2… “He could do so much better…” 1… “Do it now.” …

You turned the corner to go into the dressing room where he was and there she was, sitting on his lap, his hands on her hips, and neither of them looked particularly uncomfortable… It almost seemed like she had been sitting there for a solid few minutes before you had even walked in. You didn’t like the sight of it, but you also couldn’t seem to look away from it either. Your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach, the sudden weight making you nauseous. 

You were never the kind to make a scene, you weren’t vocal about anything that upset you, and maybe that’s why your life always seemed to go to shit once things finally went well. That’s why you quickly turned away, your head hung low as you moved in the same direction you had just come from. “Hey… You alright?” Jeongin asked as you ran right into him, but you didn’t even care to respond, side stepping out of his way and walking faster until you were out of the building. 

The makeup artist was always so… touchy… And Seungmin honestly hated it. He hated having to get his makeup and his hair down, he hated the way she’d look at him way too long. It was part of the job though, and he knew that in order to do what he loved to do, he had to endure it, and that’s the only reason he didn’t bring it up to Chan or any of the staff members. 

At least you were coming tonight, that thought alone had him dealing with all the annoying shit that came along with having to go on stage. You had finally been able to get off work to come to one of his shows, and this one was a pretty big deal, it was the third comeback show, sadly you couldn’t make it to the first two, but he told you that making it to even one was good enough for him. Having you in the crowd was important though, he wanted to look good for you, he wanted to do good for you. 

“Your skin is always so clear, you make my job so easy.” The stylist said, her hands running over his cheeks as she looked at him. It was honestly so annoying, but he forced a smile as he looked past her, staring at himself in the mirror. “If it’s so easy, then why do you take so long?” He muttered, and while he didn’t exactly want to sound rude, he was hoping that maybe she’d get the hint and stop touching him and just do her job. 

He absolutely hated when other people touched him, it felt wrong, especially when it was another woman, and the only reason he even allowed this to be done was because it was for work and you, being the amazing, understanding woman that you are, had told him that it was okay since it was job related. 

“Really?” She was talking on her phone, and he tried not to let the loudness get to him, instead closing his eyes and leaning his head back in his chair to just let her do what she had to do so he could get the hell out of there. “I just don’t know how anyone would think they look good together. They’re like… complete opposites.” Was she always this much of a bitch or was he just really intune to her bitchiness today? It seemed like the more he tried to ignore it, the louder she got though. “What’s she wearing tonight? I bet she looks like shit. She doesn’t deserve to even be seen with someone like him.” 

The one thing he hated more than people touching him though… People who thought that they were better than everyone else. He knew that he could be somewhat of an ass sometimes, but hearing the way she was talking about whoever this poor girl was… It made him feel guilty for even being in ear shot of this conversation. He was sure that whoever the guy was that she was talking about would never choose someone like her, especially if he was already with someone else. 

“Now?” She asked, and then before Seungmin even had the chance to question what she was talking about, he felt the weight of her crashing down on his lap, his hands instinctively shooting out to her hips, not to hold her, but to push her off. That’s what he was trying to do, but it was like she was holding herself there, letting gravity take over completely. “Oh gosh… Sorry… I tripped.” She said, trying to sound innocent, which only disgusted Seungmin more. 

“Can you get off of me now?” He said, trying his best to keep his cool, but he was beyond frustrated and he was pissed and he just wanted to take a breather. He knew that you’d be there soon, and all he wanted was to see you at this point and appreciate just how much of a bitch you weren’t. “Seriously, get up.” The composure was slowly starting to slip away, and he finally was able to push her off after what felt like the longest minute of his life. 

“I must have tripped over the cord for the straightener…” She said between giggles. “I wrinkled your pants, let me just-” 

He immediately grabbed her wrists to stop her before she could even get close to him. “Don’t touch me.” He quickly stood up from his chair, letting out a heavy sigh. “Does anyone know if Y/N made it here yet? Did you even let her in? Jesus Christ…” You were the only person at this point who would be able to help calm him down and for some reason you weren’t there yet even though you had texted him more than 15 minutes ago that you’d be there soon. 

Just as he was about to start looking for you, Jeongin walked into the room, his eyes narrowed as he stared at Seungmin. “Did you and Y/N get into a fight or something?” He asked, and Seungmins eyes lowered to match the look on the maknaes face. “She walked by, she didn’t even say anything when she ran into me. She looked really upset… or really sick… Is she okay?” 

Were you okay? Fuck if he knew, he hadn’t even seen you, the only person that he even liked seeing and he finds out that you were already gone? What the fuck happened? As if he weren’t already agitated enough today, now this? “She left left? Like… Where was she going?” Seungmin asked, his fingers raking through his hair as he tried to keep his cool, but his patience was slowly dwindling as the youngest shrugged his shoulders. “Cool, thanks.” He snapped, making a mental note to apologize for it later as he walked out of the room. 

“Seungmin~” The stylist called out behind him, and even though he tried to quicken his steps, he felt her fingers grasp at the back of his jacket, tugging him back and keeping him from going forward any further. “I’m not done with your makeup yet! You go on in like… 30 minutes! Where are you going?” 

30 minutes. It wasn’t that long when counting how much time he had before he could go on stage, but it felt like too long when it came down to leaving you on your own and not knowing what was going on. Seungmin had priorities, and of course his job was one of them, but you were his top priority. “Let Chan and the rest of the staff know that I won’t be at this show.” He said, and it had been his first choice, his only choice in this matter. He wasn’t going to leave you alone, no matter what the problem was, he was your boyfriend and he was going to be there for you. 

“What?!” She gripped onto his jacket tighter, and he truly was on the verge of completely snapping. She had been getting on his nerves all day, and he was finally at his last, and she seemed to be finding a way to get on that one as well. “Why? You can’t miss a comeback stage… This is ridiculous. Chan will be pissed. Do you know how hard I worked on your-” 

He shrugged out of the jacket before whipping around, his eyes like daggers as he glared at her. “I don’t care. There’s more important things for me to worry about than the third show. They’ve seen me twice, I’m sure they’ll get by without me this time.” He stormed off, leaving her absolutely stunned, but he couldn’t care less. He didn’t care about anything but you right now. 

You sat in your apartment, sipping on an hours old cup of coffee that was colder than the drinks that you had in the fridge. You hadn’t even been able to finish it this morning, you had been so excited to just get to the studio and see Seungmin. Your hair hadn’t been done, you didn’t wear anything fancy, Seungmin had said many times that he loved the way you looked when you weren’t even trying to dress up for him, when you weren’t even trying to look good… That’s when you looked your best. 

Walking down that long hallway to get to his dressing room, it felt like it took forever, and all the words that were whispered amongst the staff members felt like they were being directed towards you. Maybe it was the fact that they weren’t saying any names, and it just seemed like they were all staring at you… You tried not to think too much about it, thinking only of the fact that you were about to see Seungmin and that in itself made you happy, it allowed you to completely ignore the offhanded insults that were being thrown around you. 

That happiness that had pushed you forward was immediately gone when you saw the girl sitting on Seungmins lap. He didn’t even let you sit on his lap in public, not even around the other guys… And then came the barely muffled snickers from the female staff behind you, the soft murmurs of how cute the two of them were together. How were you even supposed to process what was going on in that moment? You could barely even begin to process it now. 

The pouring in of texts had your phone vibrating non-stop, that mixed with the random calls that were thrown in, and soon enough your lock screen was completely filled with notifications. All of them were from Seungmin, but you didn’t know what to say to him. Was he cheating on you? You weren’t sure if it had gone that far… yet… But clearly they were closer than any of the other guys with their staff members. 

“Y/N?!” Your name was shouted from the other side of the door, you heard the doorknob jiggle. You had locked it, but he had the keys to your apartment, it was just one of the signs that you trusted him… Maybe you shouldn’t have. “Where… Fuck… Y/N! I left my keys back at the studio… Can you open the door?” 

You were shocked that he had even noticed that you were gone, that you hadn’t come in to see him considering he seemed so invested in the stylist. How could he be so open with it when he knew that you were on your way. You had just talked to him to tell him that you were not even five minutes away. Did he really think that you were going to be okay with that? Was it because he was an idol? He had never striked you as that kind of person, but maybe you had read him all wrong. 

“Jeongin said that you looked sick… Are you okay?” You heard a loud thump against the door and you questioned whether it was his fist or his head, but judging by the loud groan that followed soon after, you felt like you were right to assume that it was his forehead. “You’re really scaring me right now… You haven’t answered my texts or my calls, and I don’t want to have to do it, but I’ll break through the door.” 

Would he actually break through the door? You weren’t sure… But the uncertainty had you quickly getting up and undoing the lock. Not because you wanted to let him in, but if your door ended up damaged at all, you’d be the one paying for a new one. “I’m fine. You can go back now.” You mumbled, turning away just as fast and heading back to your spot on the couch. 

“Clearly you’re not fine. You haven’t responded to me at all.” He walked over to where you sat and dropped down onto the couch beside you, grabbing your phone off the coffee table and turning it on to see all of his unanswered notifications. “Are you sick? Did something happen on your way in?” His hand reached out to touch your forehead and you jerked your head away, turning in the complete opposite direction of him, not wanting to be touched by the hand that had just been holding onto another woman. “Hey… Are you mad at me?” 

“I don’t know what I feel toward you just yet… I just know that I’m upset.” Was truly the only reason that you wanted to give him, that you could give him, but then he let out a little “huh?” and it was even more upsetting that he’d try to play stupid. “Maybe you’d understand how I feel if I just sat on Felixs lap and he had his hands on me. Or maybe you wouldn’t… Clearly you don’t care enough.” 

“Excuse me?” He practically shrieked, grabbing your chin and turning your head so you’d look at him. “You’re not sitting on anyone else’s lap… You’re not being touched by anyone that isn’t me. The hell are you talking about?” You could feel his body shaking ever so slightly with anger at the thought of one of his members being disrespectful enough to touch you in any way knowing that you were his, but again, his complete lack of understanding, or the false act of not understanding had you rolling your eyes. 

“Seriously Seungmin, just get out.” The words were breathed out in an exasperated sigh. You tried to get him to get it, but he just didn’t, he refused to, and that in itself was tiring. You were just emotionally drained, you couldn’t put up with this, you didn’t want to. 

His head shook fast before his eyes were set on yours once more. “No because now I’m really fucking confused and I’m even more scared than I was before… Is there something going on between you and Felix?” His voice was laced with panic and frustration, but your jaw dropped at the assumption. How could he even think that? It’s like he completely brushed over the fact that it was a hypothetical, that you were trying to make an example. 

“No!” You almost shouted, tears of anger stinging your eyes. “Don’t you get it?! I’m talking about you!” His head cocked to the side, like a confused puppy as he pointed at himself, questioning you once more. “Just go be with your fucking stylist, Seungmin. I’m sure she misses you and your lap is getting really fucking cold.”  

His mind had been so fogged with worrying about you that he had almost, although he would rather it have been fully, forgotten about the incident. You had already gotten up off the couch, motioning rather sternly toward the door for him to leave, and that’s when it finally clicked. “Wait… No, Y/N. I didn’t… That… I didn’t want that. She did that!” The words rolled off his tongue faster than any rap that the older guys had done before. “Mmhm” Was all you said in response, but his eyes were like saucers, wide and dark brown, but so glassy as his own tears began to well. “I’m serious! I was trying to push her off and she wouldn’t move! I swear!” His hands were clasped together in front of his chest, like he was praying for you to listen to him, to believe him. 

“Seriously Seungmin… just… just go.” You huffed, your thumb and pointer finger coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. Everything that had happened, you just felt weak, you were tired, and truth be told, you just wanted to be alone. You motioned towards the door once more, breathing heavily through your nose as you tried to fight back your tears. “Leave. Please.” 

It hurt, it was devastating to walk out the front door, to leave you behind knowing that once that door closed behind him you’d be crying by yourself. You didn’t want to see him though, and he knew that if he had seen something like that, if you had been sitting on Felixs lap like you had said, he would feel the same way. 

You wouldn’t do something like that though, he knew you wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t do something like that either. Of course right now your mind was too frazzled to even think straight, and it was so early in your relationship too. The two of you had only been together for 8 months, he was well prepared for small bumps in the road, but he wasn’t prepared for this. He loved you, and while he knew he didn’t say it enough, he hoped that you’d know that he loved you enough, he loved you too much to do something like this to you. 

It took a couple minutes for him to get himself together as he stood outside of your door, and by getting himself together, it was just him switching from being devastated about being kicked out to pissed at the stylist. She did this, she caused this. As he walked out of your building his mind replayed the moments that lead up to the stylist landing in his lap, the call that she was on, who she was talking to. It was all clicking now. 

The phone call, the way she talked so disrespectfully, the way it seemed like whoever they were talking about was right there… She was talking about you… People were talking about you like that… and now his blood was boiling as he climbed into his car and slammed the door shut, whipping out of the parking spot and speeding down the road back towards the studio. 

“You’re back for the performance?” One of the male staff members asked and Seungmin walked up to the building, his head only shaking in response to the man's question, making a b-line straight to the room where everything had happened. “Is everything okay? Did you for-“ 

Seungmin turned to look at the man, violence burning bright in his eyes, and once again, he’d have to make a mental note to apologize to the man who hadn’t truly done anything to him, he was just mad. The man’s mouth snapped shut as he backed away, his hands up in front of him as he continued backing up until he went around the corner and was out of sight. 

As he got to the room, he could hear the stylist and a couple other people talking, all of them females, and he stood just off to the side of the door to listen. “He just ran off, can you believe that?” “Because fucking Jeongin came in and told him that his girlfriend looked upset.” “I’d be upset if I looked like that too.” “Can’t believe he’d actually chase after her. Is he even worried about his reputation? His image?” “He’d look so much better with you noona, just give him time.” 

Blood boiling wasn’t even close anymore, it had all but evaporated now as he listened to them talk about you, about himself… As if she ever had a chance in hell. Of course, violence couldn’t be used, but god, he wished it could be. He wanted her gone, he wanted all of them, every single one that had spoken wrongly about you, he wanted them jobless, out on the streets, he wanted them to suffer. 

He pulled his phone out, knowing that they were too stupid to stop talking, too deep in their disgusting conversation to just let it end. He started recording, doing his best to keep from plowing through the cracked door and going off on each and every one of them. This was the evidence he needed, not just to show management, but to show you that he was being honest, that he didn’t want any part of what had happened. 

“What did he do when you fell on his lap? I thought the two of you looked adorable when I saw you through the mirror.” “He got really fucking mad. Can you believe that? He told me to get off? Like… hello? Has he even taken the time to look at me? I’m way better.” “Did he… you know…?” “Pfft… no! It’s like… he has a thing for ugly girls.” “Don’t worry, if you keep doing it enough, she’ll just dump him and then you and Seungmin will be together. Yay!” “Shut up! Don’t say his name… What if someone hears?” “No one is going to hear, there isn’t even anyone around right now.”

That was enough, and while he was sure they’d keep talking until someone walked in, he couldn’t stomach hearing anyone talking about you like that. You were such an amazing person, the best girlfriend, the sweetest and kindest person he had ever met. You were his perfect match, completing him in a way that no one else ever could. 

They wouldn’t keep working there, they wouldn’t be there to upset you anymore, and he surely would make sure they’d never try to ruin your relationship ever again. Just as he was about to walk away, the woman filed out of the room, a shriek of excitement leaving the stylist. “Seungminnie! You came back!” She squealed, running over to him and hooking her arm around his. “I knew you would. You still have time to be on before the show starts.” 

She was walking along beside him, and he was gritting his teeth the entire time, breathing deeply through his nose, but then her hand lowered and he felt her fingers brush against his thigh and he couldn’t stay quiet anymore, stopping to look at her but all he saw was red. 

“Stop.” He said flatly, grabbing her hand and pushing it away from him. “I know what you’re doing, I know what you’re trying and it’s not going to work.” He moved closer and closer to her until she was backed up against the wall, her eyes wide as he got in her face. “I don’t like you, I will never like you. You’re disgusting and you’re ugly, no amount of makeup will ever fix your personality. Also, you’re fired.” 

“You can’t fire me.” She whispered, her hands folded in front of her as she tried to look as innocent as possible just in case anyone walked past. “I didn’t do anything… you’ve got it all wrong.” She really thought she was smart, and that had Seungmin scoffing as he pulled his phone out and started playing the recording, watching as her eyes went wide. “Wait…” 

“I don’t want you near me, I don’t want you in the same building as me, I don’t want you touching me even if it’s for work. I want you gone. You’re not worth the destruction of my relationship, and if it makes my girlfriend happy, I’ll make them fire you right this minute.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket, taking a step back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Today is your last day, so pack your shit up. I’m being nice enough to give you the time to do that.” Her mouth fell open and she quickly ducked away from him, running down the hall in the opposite direction, her overly dramatic sobs slowly getting more and more quiet until everything was silent. The other staff members stood around, their eyes wavering as they looked everywhere but at Seungmin. “Don’t think you’re all off the hook… I heard each and every one of you.” 

He didn’t have the time or the patience to get into it with them though, leaving it at that, leaving them to worry just as he had, just like he still is right now about the looming outcome of his relationship. They can worry about their job, and he can hopefully fix what they had messed up. “Hey Seungmin!” Bangchan called, and he could hear the heavy footsteps of the boot clad leader running down the hall to catch up. “Jeongin told us you had to leave… Is everything alright? Are you still gonna be able to make it now?” 

Seungmin shook his head, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “No… I just forgot my keys to the apartment back here in my rush over…” He quickly patted his pockets, rolling his eyes and sighing loudly. “Almost forgot them again, thanks for making me remember.” He patted Bangchan on the shoulder as he sprinted past him to grab his bag from the dressing room and then running back out, just barely brushing past Chan. “I promise I’ll tell you about it later! I’ll tell you all of it!” 

The audio clip came to an end… for the third time. The first had been when Seungmin promptly came back to your apartment, tears in his eyes as he let it all play out, and then begged you to believe him. The first listen had ended in you both hugging and crying as you apologized profusely for doubting him even for a second, and he apologized for making you feel that way. Many kisses were given to make up for the almost 2 and a half hours of worrying that you both put each other through. 

The second listen was when he had sent the clip to his managers and then decided that he wanted to listen once more just to try to imagine how they’d react when they heard it. It didn’t take long for Seungmin to get a message back, more apologies for him having to put up with staff members like that, and then apologies to you for being put through something like that. The girls involved were in the process of being reprimanded and fired for their behavior. 

The third listen, the one you had just gone done with, was when Seungmin had gone to the dorms and decided to take you with him. He had promised to tell the guys about what had happened and why he didn’t perform today and the little recording served as the perfect explanation. “I knew something was wrong!” Jeongin exclaimed, his hands clapping together loudly as he motioned to you. “If you would have told me I could have told you all about how much Seungmin hated his stylist. The amount of times he’d come home ranting about how annoying she is… Ugh. So glad she’s gone.” 

You nodded in agreement to Jeongins words as Seungmin draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. “This wasn’t about me… It’s about Y/N.” He said firmly, although his touch was soft as he ran his hand up and down your arm. “I’m just glad that she’s so understanding…” 

“Did you cry?” Minho asked, and Seungmin was thrown off by the question, looking around the room at all the guys that were now staring at him awaiting his answer. “I bet you did. You cry when you have to spend late nights at the dorms instead of at her apartment with her.” 

“No I don’t!” Seungmin quickly tried to defend himself. “It’s just that the dorms are kind of dusty and they make my eyes water and my nose runny.” 

“But your eyes aren’t watering and your nose isn’t runny now…” You quizzed, holding back your giggles, and he let out a groan before burying his face in your hair. “You’re so cute… If you want to move into my apartment all you have to do is ask.” You pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head and Minho made a sound of disgust. 

“You two are disgusting, get a room.” Minho grumbled, jokingly tossing a pillow at Seungmin, making sure to completely miss you, before getting up off the couch and heading to the kitchen to help Felix with dinner. 

Jeongin snickered mischievously before calling out to Minho. “Remember! The dust makes him all sniffly! That must be why he’s got five boxes of tissues and the mega bottle of lotion. He must be really dry!” All the men cracked up and you could feel Seungmins body rise about 20 degrees with embarrassment. 

Instead of continuing to hide in your hair, he jumped up, practically diving across the living room to tackle Jeongin who was still laughing hysterically. “It’s not funny! Shut up!” But even you were laughing now, watching as Jeongin pushed Seungmin off of him and the two started to chase each other around the room. 

“I’m glad he’s found someone like you.” Bangchan said once he had walked over to sit beside you, taking the time that he had to really talk to you. “He loves you a lot, I’ve never seen him more panicked than he was earlier today when he thought he was going to lose you. I just hope you’ll stay… That you love him just as much…” 

You took a moment to look around at the chaos unfolding around you, Seungmin and Jeongin fighting each other with the decorative throw pillows as Changbin recorded and Jisung narrated it. Hyunjin sat off to the side, watching with amusement and clapping whenever one of them landed a hit with their pillows. Things were absolutely crazy right now, but you loved it, you loved all of them. You had started with Seungmin, your amazing boyfriend who would do anything for you, and in the span of 8 months you had gained 7 brothers who protect you like their own sibling. “I don’t plan on going anywhere…” You murmured, a smile on your face as you sunk into the couch. There was nothing that anyone could do to split you and Seungmin apart. You were staying as long as he wanted you to, and you hoped that it would be forever. 

[harryscherrypie]

I'm dating your boss, surprise

CEO!Harry Styles x fem!reader

summary - You and Harry go to his work event, where you meet your cheating ex-boyfriend Adam. Coincidentally, you are dating the head of the company he has been working at.

warnings - mentions of violence,harassment , mentions of cheating, fluff, angst

wordcount - 2,8k

a/n - CEO Harry fics have my heart so I finally got around to writing one, so enjoy.

----

"Are you ready, my love?" Harry called from your walk-in closet and you rolled your eyes at his impatience. On the other hand, you could understand it. This was the first time you were going to be in public at one of Harry's work parties. He has always been the center of attention as the CEO of the company and you knew it wouldn't be any different this time around, especially with this being the first time in the history of the company he was going to have his partner accompany him.

You've only been dating for around 8 months, but it has already been one of the best relationships you've ever been in. You got together completely by accident when you bumped into him in the lobby of his firm about two and a half years ago. You were very distressed, because you caught your boyfriend of 3 years, Adam, cheating on you with one of his colleagues. Adam has worked at Pleasing for at least 4 years as an accountant in the financial department.

You were very shocked and Harry helped you through the panic attack you were on the verge of. He kindly took you to the coffee shop on the other side of the street where you sat in the corner, letting you calm down and actually realize what had happened to you. You stayed there for over an hour, sipping on your respective teas as you told Harry everything that had happened in the last few hours.

He was angry. He hated the thought of cheating and everyone who would do so was a scumbag in his eyes. He didn't want someone like that working for him, but you convinced him to not fire your now ex-boyfriend.

Soon after, he left you in the coffee shop, because he had to get to a very important meeting with the board of directors. He wrote his number on a clean napkin and handed it to you, saying that you should catch up sometime. With that, he left and handed the barista a hundred-pound bill.

The first few weeks after, you didn't have any contact with him. You were too busy packing your things from his flat and moving in with your best friend Rachel. On the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about Harry. About the coffee shop, and about the first time you've ever met.

The coffee shop conversation wasn't the first time you talked to him. You briefly talked at one of the company's galas about two years ago when your then-boyfriend left you on the sidelines of the dance floor because he went out for a cigarette with some of his buddies. You sipped on your fancy champagne, careful not to smear your lipstick too much. A soft song started playing and you saw a figure in the corner of your eye. You quickly recognized the CEO of the company and assumed he was taking another glass of champagne from the waiter who was permanently situated on the spot behind you. Instead, you heard him clear his throat and reach his empty hand out for you, asking if you would like to dance, charmingly.

You knew your boyfriend would kill you if you didn't dance with the boss of his boss of his boss and didn't talk to him about your boyfriend, so you agreed and he quickly led you to the middle of the room. He was a wonderful dancer. He effortlessly led you through the dance, not stumbling even once.

You made small talk, mainly about your boyfriend's position in his company, but also about the gala and if you liked the music and the decorations. You went on a rant about the beautiful contrast of the main colors of the event, your eyes sparkling with happiness. As an artist, colors were always very important to you and made everything more pleasurable, especially if they were put into a good combination. Harry listened to you, looking you in the eyes as you quickly switched from dancing to just swaying to the tune of the music.

Of course, your boyfriend had to come in and ruin the nice conversation when he pulled you away and told you you were going to a pub with his friends at that very moment. You quickly said your goodbye to Harry as Adam pulled you outside of the gorgeous room.

When you were settled into Rachel's apartment, you finally had a little bit of time for yourself. As you lay on the couch, waiting for Rachel's late shift to end so you could go out and eat somewhere, you remembered the napkin with Harry's number written on it. Looking back at the situation, you were quite a handful. You decided to give him a call and invite him somewhere out for tea, for which you would pay this time around.

You slowly typed the phone number in, checking each number at least 3 times before you took a deep breath and hit the call button.

The phone rang a few times before Harry's voice rang through into your ears. He sounded very professional, introducing himself and asking if he could help you with anything. You introduced yourself, nervously playing with the strings of your hoodie.

His tone suddenly changed into a lighter one, very similar to the one he used when he was trying to calm you down from your almost panic attack. You invited him out for a cup of tea, as a thank-you for everything he had done for you the last time, and he agreed.

That was almost three and a half years ago. You didn't get together instantly, mainly because you still needed to get over Adam and get your mental health in check after the incident, no matter how much you already liked Harry. You were friends for more than a year before kissing him on the balcony of the club where he was celebrating his 32nd birthday.

You made your relationship official just a day after the party with a bad hangover and messy hair, sipping on a shared protein shake in his kitchen.

"Don't be impatient, perfection takes time," you called back as you poked your tongue out to concentrate on making a symmetrical eyeliner on your left eye.

"But you already are perfect," he called out, even closer to the door than before.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Styles," you smiled and closed the eyeliner. You sprayed a fixation spray on your face, grimacing a bit when a tiny bit of it got on your tongue somehow.

"Close your eyes, I'm coming out,"

You opened the door and immediately saw Harry sitting on the bed with his head in his palms. You fixed your silk bathrobe a tiny bit and took a deep breath.

"Okay, you can look," Harry swiftly looked up, his mouth opening up slightly as he looked at you.

"My beautiful, beautiful girl, how did I get so lucky to have you in my life?" He whispered and pulled you to sit on his lap. Your face heated up as you looked away, feeling bashful from the praise.

"I'm the one asking myself that, hot and rich, what else could I want?" You teased and he grinned.

"Let's get you into the dress, my love, we need to leave soon," he whispered against the skin of your cheek and pecked your lips a few times. You reveled in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you before you stood up and moved into the walk-in closet, where your dress was already hanging in the dust cover. Harry had it made especially for you, to match his suit.

The work gala this year was moved from Christmas to the end of October, because of the 8th anniversary of the company. The theme was flowers. Very simple, very straightforward theme that the two of you agreed on after you've seen the most fitting dress on Instagram, made by your favorite up-and-rising fashion designer. Harry announced the theme to the director's board when you got in touch with the designer, and she confirmed that she could make the dress for you, and also design a matching suit for Harry.

You took a few moments admiring the dress from afar before Harry pinched your arm in warning as if to say 'hurry up'. You shooed him out of the closet and almost waltzed to the dress, excited to wear the masterpiece.

"Come and zip my dress up please," you called out. You didn't have to ask twice because just a few seconds later, Harry was already in the room, his fingertips dancing over the exposed skin of your bare back.

"The color suits your skin so much, we picked out good," He kissed the skin of your neck, making a pleasant shiver run through your spine.

Harry zipped up your dress and smoothed it over before he walked to your front and kissed you passionately, taking your breath away.

"I'm so excited for when we get back, gonna rip this dress off of you," he groaned and kissed your lips a few more times.

His phone on a nightstand chimed in.

"The driver's here, let's go, or we'll be late," he ushered you and you nodded, grabbing your heels and walking out of the bedroom, hooking your fingers with Harry's.

The drive there wasn't long. You were traveling from Harry's city penthouse, so it took you only about 20 minutes to get to the museum. You were glad you talked him into getting ready in his apartment. He wanted to get ready back home in his estate out of the city and if you were to travel from there, you would be in the car for almost an hour and a half.

You watched the beautiful lights of the city flash by behind the window as you listened to Harry speak to one of the organizers on the phone about the last-minute details.

"So, everything is ready, and people are starting to come in," he informed you when he hung up. You scooted closer to him and snuggled into his side.

"I'm very excited, but nervous also, I don't think I'm fully ready to face Adam," you nervously fiddled with your thumbs in your lap. Harry grabbed your hands and brought them up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on both of them.

"You don't have to be nervous, I will be there with you the entire time, if you feel uncomfortable at any point in the evening just say a word and we will leave, I promise," he assured you.

"What did I do to deserve you? I must've done something very, very good," you smiled and pressed your lips against his in a feather-light kiss. The movement of the stopping car made you pull away from each other.

"Is my lipstick okay? Isn't it smudged or something?" You asked, trying to check it in your reflection in the glass of the window.

"You look perfect, don't worry," he pecked your lips once more before he fixed the cuffs on his suit and took a deep breath.

"Come on, I need to make a speech in about 10 minutes," he ushered you.

He opened the door on his side and stepped out of the car into the chilly air of the parking lot before he walked to your side and opened up the door for you, offering his hand for you to take.

"Thank you, kind sir," you smiled at him.

"My pleasure," he grinned before you walked towards the main entrance of the historic building.

You could feel everyone's eyes staring at the two of you as you descended the staircase toward the dance floor. This was the same building you met at the first time. The company galas happened here every single year, courtesy of Harry's widespread contacts all over the city. You looked around the beautifully decorated ballroom, taking in the magical atmosphere.

"Do you like it?" Harry whispered into your ear as you walked down the last few steps.

"It looks beautiful, they've really outdone themselves." you admired the decorations and squeezed Harry's hand discreetly.

"I'm glad you like it, all of this is for you, and all of the future ones will be as well," he kissed your cheek lightly and pulled back from you.

He was immediately swarmed by a group of his colleagues, praising him for the wonderful job he had done at organizing the event.

"Oh I wish that was me but actually, it was my lovely girlfriend over here, (y/n)," he announced proudly and switched you to stand next to him and not behind him, where you stationed yourself before.

"Oh, um, hi," you waved shyly at the group of people around you, and a chorus of 'Hi's' and 'Nice to meet you's rang out.

"Well, the missus is more skilled is more skilled at this than you have ever been Styles," A woman to your left teased and Harry laughed out loudly.

"I s'pose you're right Heather, she truly is a godsend," he squeezed your waist and pulled you closer to him.

"Now, I would love to chat some more, but I have to give the welcoming speech, so I, unfortunately, have to stop the conversation here," He smiled politely and said his goodbyes before he pulled you away from the group to a duo of women standing nervously a few meters away from you.

"Mr.Styles, we need you to make the speech now, you were supposed to start 2 minutes ago," One of them nervously rambled as the other one vigorously nodded while she scribbled down something on the paper she was holding on a board.

"Lead the way then," he charmingly smiled.

"Wait for me here, I will be back in a few minutes, we can dance then," he kissed your forehead lovingly and slipped away after the women.

As you waited for Harry to make his appearance, a tap on the shoulder startled you.

"(y/n)?" A familiar voice sounded from behind you.

"Adam," You awkwardly smiled at him and took a step back, trying to distance yourself from him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, clearly stunned.

"None of your business Adam," you snapped and wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling cold and uncomfortable.

"Let's talk, somewhere private," he grabbed your arm roughly. You desperately tried to tear away from his tight hold.

"Adam, let me go," you tearfully demanded but he only shook his head, tugging you towards him.

"It's alright honey, just a little conversation won't hurt," he mumbled as he tugged even more.

The whole room erupted in an applause which probably meant that Harry came out to give his speech.

The shock you were in froze you. You stopped fighting against Adam's hold and let him lead you from the room.

You didn't know where you were, the tears obscuring your eyes. The world around you went quiet and the only sound you heard was the echo of Adam's steps. You were probably in a hall.

"(y/n) listen to me," he grabbed you by the shoulders and made you look at him.

"Baby I can't live without you, you have to take me back, my life lost all of its meaning when you left me," He begged.

His words made you see red. How dare he say this? After what he had put you through, after the hurt he had caused you, he had the nerve to say you hurt him. You pushed him back, making him stumble as you dabbed your tears away.

"How dare you!" you called out shocking Adam.

"You cheat on me, you hurt me, you neglect me throughout all our relationship because of your work, but at the end of the day I'm the bad one?" You continued to pour your frustration out at him.

"(y/n) baby, that didn't happen, she pushed herself on me, you don't remember what you saw," he begged you.

You opened your mouth to say something when the door behind you opened up and a sound of hurried steps rang through the empty hallway.

"(y/n)?" Harry called into the empty hallway.

"Here," you called back and quickly moved away from Adam towards Harry.

"What the fuck is happening here, are we having a problem?" Harry's voice boomed through the hallway, making you immediately relax, knowing he is finally with you.

"Um, nothing sir, we were just talking, nothing is wrong," Adam stuttered through the sentence as he straightened his posture to look just slightly bit taller.

"Sweet girl is that true?" He smirked down as he tugged you into his side, kissing the top of your forehead.

"Wha-what is happening?" Adam asked, confused by the sight in front of him.

"I'm dating your boss Adam, and have been for the last few months, I finally found someone who treats me right," you snapped back at him.

"Let's go back, I want to dance," You looked up at Harry, completely ignoring Adam's presence.

"As you wish my dear," he kissed your forehead and took your hand in his, starting to lead you from your ex-boyfriend.

"Oh, and one thing Adam," Harry called back.

"You're fired,"

----

I hope you liked this one guys, I had fun writing this. Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated and ideas for fics are welcomed so if you have anything, please let me know.

Thank you for reading, love you <3

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 827: Shellac 1000 Hurts

This is a long and tough one, so I'll spare your timeline and force you to make the jump.

On February 21, 2001, one of my husband's closest friends was murdered by a man named Michael Gargiulo. She was stabbed 47 times.

Not surprisingly, my husband does not share my appreciation for slasher movies. I still feel like an asshole for dragging him to a midnight screening of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre on my birthday years ago. I was an idiot for not realizing that someone who lost a loved one in a brutal act of violence wouldn't find a film recreating that kind of violence entertaining.

"I don't enjoy the sound of people begging for their lives," he told me after the movie. I can't blame him. Even music with "tortured" vocals tends to get an immediate "can we listen to something else?" from him.

Transgressive art is a weird thing. People will always be drawn towards art that's shocking, forbidden, or taboo, but I also assume most people have a line they don't want crossed. I love Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but I hate Cannibal Holocaust. As far as music goes, I have a much easier time ignoring the cartoonish violence of death metal than I have sitting though music laden with brazen sexism or homophobia in the lyrical department.

Content aside, art gets even trickier when the artist's life comes under scrutiny. Again, I assume most people have a line they won't cross. You might not have an issue listening to Michael Jackson, but you would probably have a major issue listening to an artist who assaulted a member of your family. Or maybe you do have an issue listening to Michael Jackson. Maybe you also have an issue listening to an artist because of their political alignments. And maybe you have an issue with an artist simply because of something they've said in the past. There's no shortage of music out there, so why give your attention and money to assholes? On the other hand, artists are human beings, which means they've inevitably hurt someone in the course of their lifetime, so if we blacklist every artist who's ever done something hurtful, we're eliminating art from our lives. Everyone has a line, but I think any rational individual understands that the line will vary from person to person.

I've been thinking about transgressive art a lot since the passing of Steve Albini. The public overwhelming seems to mourn his loss, but I've seen a few people weigh in online with some valid criticisms: he was in a band called Rapeman; he said some sketchy things about child pornography in a zine back in the '80s; some of his lyrics reflected racist elements of society without taking a clear stance against them. Albini addressed these incidents later in life, acknowledging that though he was not advocating for the kind of behavior he was portraying in his art, the ambiguity that made his songs feel dangerous could also be construed as promoting or celebrating the subject matter.

By the time Albini got around to forming Shellac, he seemed to have shed the dodgiest parts of his confrontational persona. That said, I know a few people who take issue with Shellac's most popular song: 1000 Hurts album opener "Prayer to God." True to the title, the song is a literal prayer to God asking for the Almighty to kill the singer's cheating lover and her partner. It's essentially a murder ballad without the actual murder. Or maybe it's more in line with The Beatles and Elvis singing "I'd rather see you dead, little girl, than to be with another man," except in Albini's case the majority of his ire is aimed at the male lover. It's a visceral song, and while it might feel cathartic for someone who's been betrayed by their romantic partner, it might feel too harrowing for someone who's actually dealt with a potentially dangerous jilted ex.

I played "Prayer to God" for my husband once. He wasn't a fan. To be fair, I don't think Albini's brand of minimalist tone-scrutinizing math rock was ever gonna be his cup of tea, but the lyrics certainly weren't going to help. Consequently, I reserve 1000 Hurts for times when I have the house to myself.

And ultimately, I would hope that his reaction to Shellac would be the kind of response we'd see in people who take issue with Albini. Simply put, it wasn't my husband's cup of tea, but he didn't try to convince me that I shouldn't enjoy it. Yes, Albini dealt with some ugly and uncomfortable themes, and by his own admission he took some of it too far. But his music was both a reflection and a reaction to the things he saw around him. Just as the slasher films of the '80s were a reaction to the era's conservative bent and puritanical attempts at censorship, so were Albini's songs (particularly with Big Black) a rebuttal of that decade's benign soft-rock FM radio staples, PMRC campaigns, and right-wing fundamentalist attempts to whitewash the media.

Much like those slasher films, Big Black has aged with an unexpected patina. Yes, there is something still "dangerous" about it, but that danger seems less rooted in pushing back at "the establishment" and more like it's picking at the wounds of the most vulnerable and injured parts of our society. Given even a minimal amount of context, I'd think the average person could appreciate its attempts to say "no, this world isn't perfect and we're not going to pretend that it is," even if those attempts are admittedly a little ambiguous and sloppy at times. But that kind of context doesn't arrive as a disclaimer on the album packaging, so its reasonable to understand how someone could find Big Black's unflinching first-person villain profiles to be a little problematic.

Consequently, I completely understand why someone would take issue with Big Black's "Jordan Minnesota" or Shellac's "Prayer to God." On the other hand, I want art to be uncomfortable sometimes, even if that unease is unintentional. There's no shortage of art out there that aimed to be progressive but aged to show the inherent biases of its time. Just consider the contingent of people wanting to change the racist language in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I'd argue that sometimes the shortcomings, biases, and outdated perspectives in an artist's work are as much a statement on the times as the actual subject matter.

Everyone has a line. And for a lot of folks, Albini probably crossed it a few times in the course of his career. For me, listening to Big Black or Rapeman or Shellac is like watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre---I don't need Steve Albini to explain his lyrics anymore than I need Tobe Hopper to explain that we shouldn't cut people up with chainsaws and turn them into human barbecue. But Albini also dealt with minor horrors that impacted a far greater percentage of the population, and that's something he had to reconcile and acknowledge later in life. For me, his charity work, fierce advocacy for marginalized people, and willingness to stand up to bullies in public forums offset any of his early artistic missteps, but I also understand that making art about human suffering is always going to elicit pain from people who have endured those particular trials.

Everyone has a line.

[bluegekk0]

Honestly, I love your style, And I enjoy the way you design the characters we rarely see with the cloak off, like grimm or the pale king. But obviously, No artist is without his flaws, and I presume you do not view yourself to be without any. For starters, While the whole "Pale king is an innocent gubblemuncher" thing is cute, depending on how it's handled, It gets stale, fast. (especially considering purely how non-gubblemuncher PK is in the lore, but whatever, we can just ignore that-) Then, I have a bit of a nit to pick at with the way the "Feral PK au" was handled. Once again, similar issue to as I listed prior, PK being innocent and chill is cute, but it gets old fast, especially when the au is based around this characterization of the pale king. (Also, I didn't like PK and WL breaking up despite WL seeming to still care about him in the game, Unless there was some insane sit-com tier argument they had after PK reincarnated that I was never told about, But ig we needed a reason to ship grimm and pk, since, as most are aware, WL hates grimm's guts, so I doubt she would be ok with sharing, so it makes sense.) And finally, I don't like the missed potential of the "feral PK au". When I first heard of that au idea, I imagined a tragic story where PK comes back, But is almost a wild animal and WL ends up caging him bc she's too attached to let him go.... Instead, It's basically an artifact title, one that only applies to the act 1, maybe even just act 0.5, Possibly act 0.25 depending on how it worked. So, I think a more accurate title would be "palegrimm crack au" /j

(Note that "Gubblemuncher" is not an expression I meant to offend, It's 11:55 AM and I needed to make up something to describe a gremlin who is adorable in their own way.)

okay so uhh. i wanted to keep this short but i have a lot of things to say, though i'll get to the point right away. i don't appreciate those kinds of comments, i'm sorry

don't get me wrong, you have every right to dislike aspects of my au. there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. i'm aware that some of my takes are perhaps a little out there. i know many of them stray far away from canon. however, i never claimed that i wanted it to stick to canon, quite the opposite in fact

this au, the whole story, is something i do for myself. it's a little comfort space for me, that i decided to share with friends and other people because they showed interest and wanted to me to talk about it. i did not make it with the intention of creating a coherent narrative, or writing something sophisticated that would have a good plot. i'm not good at those things, i won't pretend otherwise. all this is, is just a silly self-indulgent au that means so, so much to me

and so i understand if some people don't vibe with it. that's perfectly fine, it's not for everyone. what i'm not fine with is people telling me how they think i should write the characters or where they think i should take the story, treating it as if the au is meant to cater to them. that is not what you'll find here, i'm sorry. i find comments like "this is a missed potential" to be a bit rude and quite discouraging, especially since i've never done anything like this and so i'm very insecure about it

some parts of this ask come off as a bit passive-aggressive to me, but that could very well be me overthinking. and because i don't like assuming the worst in people, i want to clear some misconceptions i saw here instead

first of all, the au is not built around the idea that pk is innocent. i've stated before that i don't agree with that notion, he has done terrible things and that should not be ignored. the difference here is that i try to make him more nuanced, and i've personally always loved the theme of well-meaning people committing horrible actions in the name of good. that is where i'm going with my interpretation. he tries to do well, he is very emotional and anxious, he wants to make others happy and be loved. and yet he's still responsible for the deaths of so, so many beings that did not deserve that fate. that is not something i want to ignore, it's something that haunts him constantly, and is a huge part of his character, his struggles and his arc in the au

the reason why you rarely see that portrayed in my art is because, like i said, this is something i do for myself. while i enjoy thinking about more emotional aspects of it, i also want to find happiness and comfort in it, and so i prioritize wholesome art, as that is what i find the most comforting. perhaps it is my fault that i'm not clear enough about this, and if so, i'll try to do better

i will be more short and to the point with the next part, as i've answered many asks about this topic in the past. but no, fpk and wl did not separate because of grimm. they did not separate because of a "sitcom tier argument" either. it was a result of their vastly different approaches to dealing with their guilt and shame (among other things about their relationship), and they divorced while still on good terms. this would've happened in the au even without grimm in the picture, so no, i did not just get rid of wl to make space for the ship i like. that was never my intention, even if pale nightmare is my preferred ship

lastly, about the name of the au, i mentioned before that it wasn't a conscious decision to name it that, people simply started calling him "feral pk" and i decided to keep it. for convenience, and because i thought it had a nice ring to it. that being said, it's still accurate to his character in the au. he doesn't simply "drop the feral act" once he reunites with his family, his instincts are a part of him now. throughout the whole story of the au, he is by all accounts "feral". if you had different expectations for this, then i'm afraid that is on you. you are free to explore the idea you had yourself, it sounds interesting. but it's not something i wanted to do

like i said. i don't want to assume that your intentions were to be rude. but i wanted to respond anyway to clear possible misunderstandings, and emphasize that i don't like seeing comments like this. still, i hope you have a good day anon. if you did not mean for me to interpret it like this, then know that i don't hold it against you. we're all here to enjoy ourselves, but some boundaries need to be made, and this is where i set mine. i hope you understand

[vaugarde]

Bramblepaw?

im assuming u mean bramblestar and im so sorry for the out of context shit ur abt to hear. i would do what i remember him being like as bramblepaw but i don't think anyone cares abt that version of him so.

sexuality headcanon: straight

gender/pronouns headcanon: cis he/him

rate them out of ten: he gets a two bc i like him in tpb but oh my god after that he is unbearable. im not even just talking about squirrelflight, he's so nasty and annoying to read about and he never gets any real consequences for his behavior. people compare him to kovu a lot but in reality kovu would stomp on him with his lion paws.

favorite thing about them: uh. idk if it counts bc i havent read the arc yet, but the possession plotline in tbc sounds really cool. and again, i remember actually liking his small arc in tpb, i liked it when he got angry with fireheart for treating him poorly just because of where he came from (in a really good parallel to how his father treated fireheart for the same reason). it got ruined but hey it was a good moment while it lasted.

least favorite thing about them: its hard to choose. him never getting any consequences for training with hawkfrost and tigerstar besides hawkfrost dying. him being nasty to squirrelflight all the time. the insistence that hes a great dad when he disowned the three immediately. his drama with squirrel literally being dragged into the present apparently. everyone thinking hes justified for some reason... literally saw a popular artist portray him being a dick to squirrelflight about wanting more kits as like a "stand up against your cunt wife" moment when in reality he was throwing a tantrum that his wife wasn't being his personal hypeman and he turned to mocking her request (that she had dropped without issue when he disagreed). kinda want to go through with my hawkleaf au just because bramble actually faces societal consequences for what he did with tigerstar at least.

why i first started liking/disliking them: i mean i think its kinda clear. he's an abusive prick to squirrelflight from tnp and up.

do i relate/project onto/kin them?: no

favorite quote/moment: again, him standing up to fireheart, and later denouncing his dad in front of bloodclan.

my fav ship: no one

my fav platonic friendship i remember liking his bond with tawnypelt a lot. wish it wasn't ditched after tnp.

a ship i hate: bramblesquirrel.

do i prefer canon or fanon? i don't like him

random headcanon: he projects his issues with firestar onto sparkpelt. he kinda pressured her to be like him and was very pushy about it, driving a wedge between them. therefore, they're not really close. it's like full circle from what firestar did.

what color do i picture them as: is this pelt color or like a color i associate with him? pelt color is that he's a brown tabby, color i associate is yellow.

cat breed headcanon: don't really have one in mind

unpopular opinion: hm. idk if disliking him counts anymore. i guess i'll repeat that he's kind of a bad dad (even with his bio kids, him making alderpaw be a medicine cat rubbed me the wrong way when i first read it)

things i associate with them: thorn bushes because of the one omen he got

song i associate with them: thus always to tyrants by the oh hellos

favorite MAP/PMV/AMV with them: torn between the do you love me map by morphinetarantula and the exit by weesmeet. i enjoy the first one as a complete project kinda better, but i have a ton of nostalgia for the latter.

[doodle-doodie-doo]

My Eddsworld MLP AU explained in summary

Yes I have an ew Mlp au shocker I know

Ok so basically Edd is a pony thats living in ponyville and is uhh basically kinda broke, he is a struggling artist (youd think ponies should get pay more since they gotta draw with their hooves and mouth but whatever) he is living in a small cottage in the city and can barley even pay his rent, and hes a big dorky shy earth ponies so trying to get his art attention other than media is hard work. One day, this evil pony man is wanted, It's Tord, (and hes actually evil in this its not like his eddsworld counterpart who is evil and dumb like hes actually a threat think of Tempest shadow from the mlp movie)

Tord has captured one of the ponies from the Canterlot royal family, thats when youve known youve FUCKED UP. (If youve watched MLP you know) Its Matt. Sure, hes not as high up as say Luna and Celestia's family, but eveyone in Caterlot knows who he is and hes basically a preppy fancy bitch boy and this and never had a real childhood and was always protected, so this is a big deal, Matt was kinda like the baby boy of his family, always pure and fancy, always getting his way like the bitch he is

so anyways, Tord captures this mf cause hes mr evil pony man and why you ask?? Well, everyone thinks its because Tord is jealous and wants to tord-ture him, Tord is very little-known in all of Equestria so everyone dosent know a lot about him, they just know hes evil as shit and lives in a land of fire and evil-ness, Well, Tord actually isnt as evil as ponies think, hes kinda dumb, hes just more evil than EW Tord, nah, everyones wrong, Tord actually wants to be with Matt, thats right Tord wants love, because hes fucking gay, he makes it clear by enslaving him, but everyones too worried about Matt to see the gayness because they are dumb.

so anyways Tord has enslaved bitch boy in his land, wanting to keep him to hinself, of course matt hates this, this news spreads all over Equestria, Edd sees the poster: The poster explains what is going on, and the poster offers TONS AND TONS AND TONS OF bits to whoever saves Matt and returns him back to the royal family, this is Edd's wake up girl boss slay moment, fuck yes, finally, he can pay his rent and buy better artist equipment and shit like that! Edd is ready.

Edd is dumb and assumes that Tord is holding Matt hostage in Canterlot, so Edd takes the train there, big news headass, either Tord or Matt is there, what did you expect. One of Lunas Royal Guards (its night time during this btw) sees Edd and starts laughing at him during his duty of watching over Lunas side of the castle "What?? what's so funny you eyeless bitch??" "youre like....the 100th person Ive seen travel over here to try and find prince Matt. You look like a simple ponyvillian, youll have no luck here, I have dragons coming here and everything."

Edd asks Tom if he can help him, Edd sees Tom as someone who stands out compared to the other bat ponies, "can you help me??" "What??? fucking no are you crazy??" "But you're....a royal guard? And a strong bat pony...I'll need your help, I'm just an artist!" "Nah, I'm just doing this for Luna." Thats right, Toms a huge fucking Simp for Luna, he does whatever she tells him to do, hes one of her biggest fans, thats why he took this job, at home, hes just a normal dude. Luna comes out and hears their convo Luna promises Tom a kiss if Tom helps Edd and saves Matt. "Fuck." "arent you meant to be going in ponies dreams at this time, MIss children of the night?" Edd asks "fuck them kids" 7. Tom takes edd in the castle and gets him a knight costume "Youre a big guy. Youll need something like this." Night bat pony guard Tom and ponyville earth pony knight Edd then go on their way to save Matt

[ashadowadminkuro]

I pity you people sometimes.

Look, this is not a hate post....more of one of concern.

I have friends who are gay, lesbian, and even bisexual or pansexual or whatever sexual.

I'm a Christian, and proud of it. But I am also MORE than just that.

YOU are more than just your sexuality or assumed gender or however you identify as.

Think of it this way. Everyone is made up of parts....each part is not more or less important than the other, but each are different in their own way.

Like for me as a first example. I am a Christian, I am also an uncle, a godfather, a gamer, a Discord admin, a Redditor, a fucking degenerate league of legends player, a fucking horny weeb who browses hentai 90% of the time I am on the internet, and a guy who hates pineapple pizza.

Also if it's not clear...I'm straight, I like girls, BIOLOGICAL GIRLS, not "Cis" women...Women, as in WOMEN, a woman who is born a woman, can lactate, give birth, and identifies as a woman.

Now let's list one of my friends who is gay.

He is gay, He is an artist, he is a DnD player, He likes Warhammer 40k lore but doesn't want female space marines, He likes Bara artstyles, He works to feed his family, A good friend, and if he is lucky, a good husband to his partner.

He is gay, but he is MORE than just his Sexuality. He is MORE than just what he is attracted to.

He has more to him than just the rainbow flag, He has struggles BESIDES what ass he wants to stare at on the internet belonging to a man.

So color me surprised that he wholeheartedly does not like the current LGBTQ community.

I asked him "Why? Are you not technically a member? Being Gay?"

He replied to me "Well technically yes, but I do not enjoy how these loud mouthed people only focus on their sexuality to the point of harassing and defaming people who either misgender them or refuse to call them by their pronouns"

And I agree. Not because you people are gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, or even Asexual.

I believe people are more than just what riles up your pants or panties, and I mean that as a GOOD thing. Why limit yourself to what attracts you? Are you not a person first? Who has dreams and aspirations beyond just "same sex makes me horny, both sexes make me horny"

Like I do not support what the LGBTQ stands for NOW.

But I did BACK THEN when you fought to not be discriminated or just casually killed like some parasite under someone's shoe.

That you fought for your rights to LIVE and be given opportunity to be given the same opportunities as everyone else.

But I cannot support an LGBTQ movement that indoctrinates children, thinks that every problem can be solved with sex change surgery, and makes their sexuality their entire identity and being as if there is NOTHING else about them that has ANY WORTH to the World.

If you want the best example of an LGBTQ person....Captain Holt from Brooklyn 99.

He faced discrimination, both racially and for his sexuality, and despite that he proved he was MORE than just his sexuality and color.

He is in the show a respected and acknowledged senior, deserving of his rank among the Officers of the 99, and he is gay.

The worst part about the LGBTQ is that the Loud Minority is Undoing DECADES of fighting for your rights.

TAKE A HINT PEOPLE, CORPORATIONS ARE TURNING YOUR COMMUNITY INTO A POINTLESS BORING CHECKMARK FOR VIEWS.

IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT? Your Decades of Work for Freedom and Equality, Scorned and Hated by many, even among your own people, Turned into a simple checkmark for TV shows for relevancy? To be turned into a simple marketing ploy for views?

"Oh let's make this character gay/Trans"

"Do they do anything that makes people like them?"

"No we will just include them in the show so the LGBTQ community will praise us for representation for positive feedback, We are always right, there is no way they will know we are doing this just for attention, We will make the Gay/Trans character super boring and forgettable"

IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT? Cause I refuse to see you turned into such an existence.

I still do not support same sex marriage but I refuse to see people turned into mindless check boxes for anyone wanting attention.

[nightlilly0110]

There’s one really neat detail in Inscryption that I like and I just somehow noticed it but I like it regardless.

P03 is a bad storyteller.

Each Scybe has one specific game mechanic that stands out above the rest. Together, they could have used it to create the perfect game, but they were always turned against each other.

Leshy is the storyteller.

Magnificus was the artist.

Grimora was the spirit of the game (having fun).

P03 was the strategist (always talking about card stats).

But the point is that P03 is bad at storytelling. He hates Leshy and thinks his stories are not helpful (well he hates all the Scrybes but his time as a stoat made him very bitter towards Leshy). The point is he’s bad at storytelling/ hates stories. He took the plot of Inscryption for Botopia because he couldn’t think of anything better and it’s clear he wasn’t invested in it at all.

But we know from all the ARG stuff that P03 survives deletion, and that would be the in-game reason as to why you could buy Inscryption on Steam. Because he was able to continue his work on Luke’s computer.

P03 could have just run the game that he had Luke made in Act 3. He even said that he used Luke’s hard drive, so he could just popped that version online once he reacclimatized to his new home. Or if it got deleted, surely he could have recreated it with Luke’s assets and videos for references. But there was still that chance the other Scrybes could take over the game, so he changed it.

As he said to Luke, he’d only control most of the copies if he released the game as it was. He and the other Scybes would be at it in millions of copies, not just one. So P03 makes a different game. A game that does the same thing every single time you loop. Doesn’t matter which Scrybe you pick to replace, doesn’t matter how many upgrades or achievements you unlock. Everyone gets the same ending. The other Scrybes live out their faux-deletion over and over and over again each time you boot up the game and play through it. Except for P03, who’s just chilling on Luke’s computer and can (presumably) do whatever he wants with it.

But for this other game, he needs a story, and P03 is a bad storyteller.

So he takes Luke’s story. That’s why, in-game, we play as Luke playing a game on a floppy disk he found in the woods - it’s more compelling than just a card game (and I can just imagine that little stoat face cursing out Leshy and his stupid stories as he made the decision). He uses Luke’s footage of the game to make it more thrilling, intercuts it with the gameplay at just the right moments to remind the player that there’s a middleman (and if you’re still in Act 1, make you question what the fuck is going on). In Luke’s world, this would’ve been like a living creepypasta. People would download it to see if the OLD_DATA really killed you or if the Lucky Carder actually died for this. It just ensures that more people would buy Inscryption, spreading P03’s control farther with each copy.

P03 still controls the game - it’s his, he made it, he assumably has failsafes in place to make sure he stays in control. He’s the one that put in out there into the world. Even if he’s not in the game, in control of it specifically, he has the narrative in place. He gets to make Grimora, Leshy, and Magnificus think they’ve won, that they killed him, and then they get to rest in peace thinking a job well done, only for the cycle to start over again, over multiple copies.

The Great Transcendence is a red herring because, technically, for Inscryption to exist and be played, it’s already happened and P03 has control no matter how many times Leshy kills him.

So Luke and Kaycee get to live on through this new game. Luke is already dead by the time you boot up the loading screen and Kaycee has been gone for years now. But you know their story, you know what happened to them, and we know it’s not because the Scrybes give a shit.

It’s because P03 can’t fucking tell a good story.

[pr0dbeomgyu]

BLURRY LINES

*＊✿❀LINE 22: COMFY❀✿＊*

"i guess you do have a type huh," yeonjun prodded.

"and what exactly do you mean by that?" y/n barked, shooting him a glare.

"nothing, i guess that's for you to find out, right prod taehyun?" glancing at taehyun, yeonjun smirked.

taehyun balled his fist, realising that yeonjun was implying to the fact that he's prodsputnik.

"so, i'm assuming you've seen my collab with your prod sputnik?" he said.

when y/n kept silent, he continued, "i still remember how you were always gushing about him, praising him on your stan account. what was it again? daddysputnik?"

"shut up, yeonjun," ryujin warned. y/n's face fell, as she felt somewhat humiliated, her feelings severely hurt. yeonjun knew how y/n doesnt really like going around telling people about that, yet he still chose to say that in front of everyone.

"if you're planning to annoy my girlfriend more, i think it's better for you to leave, yeonjun," taehyun spat out, tired of his antics.

"fine, what ever you say, lover boy," yeonjun gave y/n a last glance, just to see her eyes glued on the floor, before making his way to the door.

they all noticed how y/n's eyes had turned all glossy with tears, but no one dared to say anything.

"i think all of us will leave too, yeah?" ryujin finally broke the silence, hinting for beomgyu, hueningkai and soobin to make their leave.

"but-"

"yeah beomgyu, remember that thing we had to do," hueningkai said quickly.

"what thing?"

"you know, that thing," soobin cut him off.

"what-"

"goodbye tyun, y/n, see you tomorrow," hueningkai said, practically dragging beomgyu out by the arm, soobin on the other side and ryujin's hand on his mouth. anyone seeing it could have mistaken them as kidnapping.

y/n's shoulders dropped, finally let out the breath she had been holding in.

"hey, you ok?" taehyun asked quietly.

they were still in the same position, with y/n in his laps, arms circling around her waist.

"i guess im fine, i just didnt expect yeonjun to intentionally hit my weakest point,"

"hey but it's totally normal you know, having a celebrity crush,"

"yeah right, if you're like 15,"

"he's a jerk btw,"

"yeah, obvi,"

taehyun just hummed, dropping off the topic.

"you dont wanna get off me or something?"

"nah, let's just stay like this for a bit, it's comfy," y/n leaned backwards, resting her back against taehyun's chest.

NEXT | MASTERLIST

TAGLIST :

@gyuuss @btxtreads @terrytaehyunnies @miraculyfe @yoonkeehoe @derinxfam @snowfalltxt @taehyunsfel @letmeal0ne @cosmiclele @cerisetalks @meowtella @shrutiajit @msxflower @lomlyeonjun @lokideadontheinside @arminandjeanandannieandhange @nycol-ie @00-baejin-05 @summery-bat @txtville @wkhdery @stray-bi-kids @mintbgyu @she-is-dreaming @junniesavidreader @sunflowerbebe07 @simpforscoups @multi4lifer @beomjundiaries @whoe-dis @ahnneyong @kac-chowsballs @bucket05 @iyeonjuni @beomsun @day6andetcetera @beomgyuanti @wh4txium1n @carolnina55 @youreverydayzebra @nshitae @milkycloudtyg @soobsdior @roseless1213 @sulkii @pinkheadflowers @multiwendi @mygwarai @envy-brr @pikapikapikaachuu @ttaeycngg @rlajjunie @chillfilms

SYNOPSIS :

if there's anything y/n's good at, it's differentiating her feelings between love or hate. it's so distinct, she really doesn't get it when people say they have mixed feelings about something, cause to her, love is LOVE and hate is, well... HATE. LOVE is like her feelings for prodsputnik, an anonymous soundcloud artist she adores which she may or may not have a stan account for. HATE is like her feelings towards her roommate, kang taehyun. she even claimed that researchers are bullshitting when they say there's a thin line between hate and love. but what if y/n figures out that prodsputnik and kang taehyun is the same person? will the line between love and hate stay thick and clear as fuck (y/n's words) to y/n or will it get blurry?

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

<- prev | next ->

Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

-

-

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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[sketching-shark]

LMK fandom: Oh, what do we do about this guy who has nothing but hurt Xiaotian, tried to replace Sun Wukong and his crew, hurt Tripitaka and ordered servants to cannibalize a monkey? Oh I know! We’ll turn him into our little meow meow~ he’s so innocent and Sun Wukong is obviously the villain!

What doesn’t help is this idea is perpetuated by multiple fan fic writers and artists for some reason. Especially some aus they make that turn SWK into a bastard for the sake of the story rather than considering cultural context and thinking they should be respectful.

And almost everyone lets them get away with it just because the art or fanfic is good and they get so popular that no one can point what is actually wrong without feeling like they’re going to get attacked.

I'm starting to feel like my blog is the one anons go to specifically to vent their frustrations about the Six Eared Macaque in his lego monkey show form & the associated fandom lmao. But I guess this makes sense, as I’ve had fun quasi-dragging him before & will in fact use this anon submission as an opportunity to have my own, to put it academically, bitch fest about not just this fandom's favorite protagonist-traumatizing meow meow, but about the way villains are often treated in not just fanon, but increasingly in canon works as well. But same policy as with the last anon; I'll post my opinions below the cut, and as fandoms love to say, don’t like don't read if you don't want to see me dunking on the six eared simian & common fandom tendencies towards villains.

Oh man I would say where would you even begin with this but anon you’ve pretty much started yourself with my main gripe with a lot of ways that the Six-Eared Macaque is portrayed in fandom; there seems to be this unspoken agreement that his acts of violence towards Sun Wukong, Qi Xioatian, and Qi Xioatian’s loved ones are either to be framed as somewhat or totally justified, to be immediately forgiven/excused, or to simply & completely be ignored. Like friends maybe this is just me not seeing the proper posts but while the fandom is inundated with art and fanfics of Macaque as a generally decent individual & a true member of team good guy, I have yet to see one person address the fact that this monkey literally kidnapped & mind-controlled Xiaotian’s best friend and father figures & forced them to brutalize Xiaotian while ol’ Six Ear looked on and laughed (X_X). Like this kind of fandom villain treatment is definitely not something that’s solely at work for Monkie Kid, but it is kind of nutty how fandoms will swing between yelling that people should be allowed to like villains without even mild critique, and then will just flat-out not address the villainous behavior, and will even bend over backwards to frame even characters who committed genocide as just poor innocent widdle victims who need a hug. At its worst, I’ve even seen tons of people in a fandom get really angry at other people who don’t like a villain, and will even start accusing those people of hating real-life mentally disabled or abused individuals all because they don’t like the fandom’s favorite literal war criminal. The Monkie Kid fandom is FAR more chill & better than a lot of other fandoms I’ve come across in that regard, but that is an exceedingly low bar, & the tendency to woobify certain kinds of villains-- as with Macaque and the extreme emphasis on his bad boy/sad boy thing--is very much at work.  

 I’ve also talked before about a kind of monoculturalization of certain character interpretations and story beats in fandoms, and one of the more popular ones that seems to be applied to Macaque a lot is the “hero actually bad, villain actually good” cliche, as observable from the general fandom assumption that Mr. Six-Ears he wasn’t even slightly lying or remembering things through a rose-tinted or skewed lens when he gave his version of his and Sun Wukong’s past. Like at this point it seems the possibility that people WILL NOT even consider is that Sun Wukong never did & still doesn't care that much about the Six Eared Macaque (in JTTW they weren’t sworn brothers & in Monkie Kid the only thing the monkey king really said to Macaque before attacking him was a pretty contemptuous "Aren't you ever going to get sick of living under my shadow?," & responds to his "beloved friend" getting blown up with "You did good, bud" to Qi Xiaotian, who did the exploding), or that their original fight may in fact have mostly been instigated by Macaque. After all, to repeat what this anon summarized & what I've said before about their original JTTW context (& in an example of the things that do feel like it's often lost in translation) is that the Six Ear Macaque was a villain not just because he beat up the Tang Monk, but because he wanted to take over Sun Wukong's entire life and identity so he could have all that glory, prestige, and power for himself. To quote the macaque himself from the Anthony C. Yu translation, "I struck the T'ang monk and I took the luggage...precisely because I want to go to the West all by myself to ask Buddha for the scriptures. When I deliver them to the Land of the East, it will be my success and no one else's. Those people of the South Jambudvipa Continent will honor me then as their patriarch and my fame will last for all posterity." And in order to do this, the Six Eared Macaque had apparently made Sun Wukong's "little ones," his monkey family, his captives through either trickery or force, and gotten a number of them to take on the appearance of Tang Sanzang and the other pilgrims. It's also made clear that in very direct contrast to Sun Wukong, he doesn't care about these monkeys beyond how they might serve him. In fact, after Sha Wujing kills the monkey posing as him the Six Eared Macaque not only all but immediately replaces him with another, but also "told his little ones to have the dead monkey skinned. Then his meat was taken to be fried and served as food along with coconut and grape wines." So this monkey is not only willing to risk the lives of a lot of other monkeys for his own personal benefit, but is also a literal cannibal. And yes yes, I know a lot of people have argued that Monkie Kid shouldn't be considered a direct sequel to JTTW & that's fair enough (for example, Sun Wukong probably shouldn't be smashing anyone into a meat patty in a children's cartoon lol). And of course, it needs to be noted that there are a buttload of really out there & really cursed pieces of media based on JTTW & that were created in China. Yet the above description is the oft-ignored in the west original facet of the Six Eared Macaque's character. And it is this selfishness, entitlement, and treatment of other individuals as tools for his own self-serving ends  that is, from where I’m standing, still very much present in Monkie Kid. Like besides repeatedly going out of his way to physically and psychologically traumatize Xioatian, with the last episode Macaque seemed to be going right back to his manipulative ways. I’ve seen people frame their last conversation as Macaque softening to Xioatian a little bit, but personally that read a lot more like that common tactic among abusers where even after they’ve hurt you they’ll dangle something you want or need over your head (in Macaque’s case, the promise of desperately needed training and information about a serious looming threat), with the implication that you’ll only get it if you do what they want you to, such as, in this case, Xioatian going back to Macaque as his student even after having been so terribly hurt by this monkey, which would give Macaque power over Xiaotian and probably Sun Wukong as a result. And it is this violence and manipulation that it seems the fandom at large has tacitly decided shouldn’t even be addressed, instead leaning more towards a (and this is an exaggeration) “Six-Eared Macaque my poor meow meow Sun Wukong has always been bad & has always been wrong about literally everything” reading. 

And while it is the case that I am not Chinese and feel that as such it would be best left to someone who actually comes from that background to provide more context into how common interpretations of the Six Eared Macaque from China may clash really badly with the stuff the western fandom creates, it also must be noted that, as much as we all want to have fun in fandom & in spite of all the out-there versions of JTTW from China, we westerners should recognize that there is a very long and very ugly history of western countries stripping other cultures’ important religious and literary works for parts & mashing them into their own thing while implying or even insisting that what they present provides a true understanding of the original piece. And while I trust most individuals in regards to Monkie Kid are able to step back and think “this is a lego cartoon and not a set guide for how I should understand JTTW” (especially given the insistence that JTTW and Monkie Kid should be considered there own separate works) there does nevertheless seem to be something of a tendency to take the conclusions people come to, for example, about Sun Wukong’s characteristic in his lego form & then assume that’s just reflective to Sun Wukong as a totality. I imagine a good portion of this is due to people not reading JTTW & especially to not having easy access to solid information or answers about JTTW’s many different facets (like geez awhile ago I was trying to get a clear answer on what is considered the most accurate translation of the names of Sun Wukong’s six sworn brothers & got like 5 different responses lmao), but that tendency to take a western fandom interpretation & run with it instead of doing any background research or questioning said interpretation is still very much at play. As such, & as made prominent in the way people have been interpreting the dynamic between Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque in the lego monkey show, tbh it does seem kind of shitty for western creators & audience to sometimes go really out of their way to ignore all of this original cultural & narrative context for the sake of Angst (TM) in Macaque's favor, demonizing Sun Wukong, and shipping the monkey king with his evil twin (X_X).

And speaking of which, even beyond the potential inherent creepiness & revulsion that can be inspired by this specific ship given common interpretations of the og classic's original meaning (again, it's my understanding, given both summaries of translated Chinese academic texts I've been kindly provided with, my own reading of the Anthony C. Yu translation of JTTW, & vents from a number of Chinese people I've seen on this site, that the Six-Eared Macaque is commonly interpreted in China as having originated from Sun Wukong himself as a living embodiment of his worst traits, hence why only Buddha can tell the difference between them & why the monkey king is much more slow to violence after he kills the macaque), I'd argue that in the face of all the uwu poor widdle meow meow portrayals lego show Macaque is, especially if you include JTTW's events, still in the role of “Sun Wukong but worse” as he is very much a violent & selfish creep. Like he was basically running around in JTTW wearing a Sun Wukong fursuit, but there he had the sole reason of wanting to replace Sun Wukong wholesale so he could have all the good things in the monkey king's life without actually having to work as hard for them. But if you combine that with Macaque now claiming that he used to be best friend with Sun Wukong in his pre-journey days (something that's made funny from a JTTW context given that that status actually belongs to the Demon Bull King lol), his original violence has now blown into this centuries long and really unhealthy obsession with the monkey king. Like he's apparently gone from wanting to literally be Sun Wukong to being so obsessed with getting revenge on Sun Wukong that he's got basically nothing else going on in his life. Like he's only appeared in two episodes but...does he have any friends? Any family? A career or even a hobby that DOESN'T center the monkey king? Anything at all outside of his "get revenge on and/or kill Sun Wukong/use his successor as my personal punching bag” thing? Like dude! That is extremely creepy and extremely bad for everyone all around! As I’ve said before, this seeming refusal to see beyond the past or to do something that doesn’t involve Sun Wukong in some capacity is a trait that makes Macaque an interesting and somewhat tragic villain--he even seems to be working as Sun Wukong’s reflection in a mirror darkly, with lego show Sun Wukong pretty clearly not being able to heal from his own past which is hinted to be defined by one loss after another, and with Monkie Kid even kind of having these two characters somewhat follow their JTTW characterizations in that in the latter half of the journey Sun Wukong often gets sad & starts crying in the face of what seems insurmountable odds (& Monkie Kid Sun Wukong does seem to be hiding some serious depression behind a cheerful facade), whereas the Six-Eared Macaque retains a worse version of Sun Wukong’s pre-journey characteristic of getting pissed and lashing out if things don’t go his way--but it’s also what would make any current friendship or romantic relationship between these monkeys horrific. Although to be fair even the fandom seems to recognize this in an unconscious way, in that a lot of the art & fanfic seems to swing erratically between them kissing & screaming at each other in yet another example of bog-standard fandom adulation of romanticized toxic relationships lol.  

At the end of the day, of course, this is nothing new. You'll find versions of this dynamic across a ton of fandoms and now even canonical work. And as such, I can only look at this kind of popularized relationship dynamic with a kind of resigned weariness whenever it pops up, & my frustrated question with the popularity of this kind of pairing is the exact same one that I have for a multitude of blatantly toxic villain/hero ships, given common fandom discourse & the tendency to either ignore or justify the villain's actions & demonize the hero: if you're THAT convinced that everything is the hero's fault, if you believe THAT much that the hero is the one in the wrong for the villain's pain and their subsequent actions, then why are you so set on them not only becoming a romantic pair, but framing this get-together as a good thing? Like I know we contain multitudes but that's waaay too many contradictions for me to wrap my head around. And it definitely doesn’t help that one branch of underlying reasoning behind this kind of pairing seems to be the ever-present “you break it, you fix it” mentality, where the assumption is that if you’re in a failing, abusive, and/or generally toxic relationship (platonically or romantically), if you put in enough time and effort & attempts to compromise, you’ll be able to restore/have the relationship you dreamed of, even with someone who hurt you really badly. And this assumption isn’t limited to fandom: I’d even argue that it’s everywhere in the culture, hence why a lot of people feel like they “failed” if they have to get a divorce or make the choice to leave an unhealthy friendship. Personally, I feel like people could really benefit from more stories about how it is not only the case that the people you hurt don’t owe you their forgiveness & you can still become a better and happier person without the one you hurt in your life, & that while it can be really hard it can also be a good thing to leave a relationship, even if it’s one that once meant a lot to you. 

  But in all honestly, from my own perspective this kind of pairing is starting to read far less like enemies to lovers and far more like a horrible fantasy where you can pull whatever shit you want, even on the people you "love," & never be held accountable for your terrible behavior or even have to consider that maybe you were in the wrong. It's another facet that makes me larf every time I see people insist that fandom is an inherently "transformative" or "progressive" form of storytelling like friends you are literally just taking status quo toxic monogamy & rebranding it as somehow beneficial & romantic (X_X).

But as to anon’s last frustration, it is hard to know what is the appropriate response with this kind of thing...like for my own part I’m keeping my frustrations to my blog & now increasingly to posts that you would have to click on the “read more” button to see what I have to say, but I totally get the hesitation to give even a mild critique to big names in a fandom. Like I've now seen it happen repeatedly where someone who has a big name in a fandom will make something that's kind of shitty for one reason or another, someone will message them with some version of "hey, that's kind of shitty, you shouldn't do that," and the typical response is either to blatantly ignore the issue completely, or more popularly to make a giant crying circus that seems deliberately geared towards stoking emotions on both sides of the, for example, fiction does/doesn't affect reality issue so that something that didn't even have to be that big a deal gets blown out of all proportion, with the big name often framing what often started out as a very mild critique into a long crying jag about how the initial response to their kind of shitty thing was so mean/cruel and they're just a poor innocent & that YOU'RE the true racist/sexist/bigot etc. if you don't agree with their opinion. It must of course be noted that there have also been numerous instances of people taking it too far the other way & sending not just big names but smaller creators literal deaths threats over stuff like innocuous ships which like holy hell bells people that’s a horrible thing to do. But for the big names at least, the end result of all this fighting is usually that once the dust has settled they have more attention/fame/money/power in the fandom than before, and with anyone who might have a problem with their stuff feeling afraid to voice their opinion lest they be swarmed by that person's fans. In that way fandom does often seem to increasingly be geared towards presenting an “official” fandom perspective about various facets of a piece of media instead of allowing for a multitude of interpretations, and with criticism, no matter its shape or form or how genuinely warranted it may be, being hounded out of existence. I feel like a lot of this could be made less bad if there wasn’t this constant assumption & even drive to think that a different interpretation of or criticism of your favorite work of fiction or your fanwork isn’t a direct claim that you are a thoroughly loathsome individual (& maybe also if people cultivated an enjoyment of learning things about important works from a culture outside their own, even if what you learn clashes with your own initial understandings), but I guess we’ll see if that ever happens. 

So these are my general thinks about the Six Eared Macaque’s current fandom meow meow status & some of my bigger gripes with fandom tendencies as a whole. I stand by my idea that the most interesting & beneficial route for Macaque moving forward would be a kind of “redemption without forgiveness from the ones you hurt” arc--as I think was done pretty excellently with the character Grace in Infinity Train--and if for no other reason than gosh dern this monkey really needs to cultivate some sort of identity beyond his “Sun Wukong but worse” persona. 

[snootsnoot-fiction]

Your Gentleman

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None really

A/n: My first marvel fic yay!!! I love that it’s Bucky as well☺️ This is a birthday gift for my dear friend who I love @inthatmomentwewereinfinite 🎉🎉🎉 you’re honestly one of the nicest people on the planet, I hope you have the best day you can ❤️

Summary: You haven’t seen Bucky in years…

The life of one James Buchanan Barnes was quite the tragedy. At least for the most part.It was a long, involuntary life, but to say he wouldn’t be the least bit grateful for the majority time skip would be a lie. Oh, there were things “Bucky” Barnes missed of course, but there was plenty to make up for it.

The man thought he would lead a simple life; serve in the war, get married with Steve as his best man, maybe even die of old age. A far cry from the fate that really awaited him, for he found himself being part of the Red Skull’s experiment. An experiment that began his journey as who would infamously be known as The Winter Soldier. 

~~~~~

You were quite the artist to say the least. You lived and enjoyed a fairly quiet life as well. That’s not to say your talents weren’t sought out, for you were also quite the fashion designer. Sometimes you would simply consult. Create and draw up a design for someone else to make. Occasionally you would make the pieces yourself. It was an interesting way of making money, and you were happy to keep living your quiet life - your involvement usually kept secret in some way at your request.

Needless to say, one of the biggest things you ever worked on was the new suit for Captain America. You found his tale fascinating. You knew of the man, but it wasn’t until you heard he was back that you looked into him a little more. Strange things seemed to be happening more often.

The detail of his best friend’s supposed ‘death’ was another thing that interested you, but all anyone could assume was he actually was dead now. It didn’t stop you from wondering though.

You did work on occasion for people such as The Avengers, but aside from that, you were a normal citizen. So to say you were surprised when you caught the eye of Mr Barnes in modern day was an understatement.

Recognising him immediately, you weren’t sure what to do. He looked beyond exhausted, and it was clear to you he was trying to keep his head down. The man carried on, and despite thinking you probably shouldn’t, you followed. The next thing you knew, a cold arm was pinning you against a wall as the one and only James Barnes stared at you. Up close, his eyes looked even tireder, and you could see just how rough a state he was in.

“Why are you following me?” He huffed out. Anyone could see how tense he was. Almost afraid.

“I’m no-one I swear! I just recognised you and got curious… you’re Bucky?” He slowly let you go, but remained tense. “I don’t even know what happened… you look awful…” you frowned slightly as you gave him a proper look. You really had no idea what was going on, but you felt bad for him. Whatever happened to this man, you were glad to not know right now. 

~~ a few months later ~~

You wondered how people would react to finding out about you helping ‘The Winter Soldier’. The thought made you nervous sometimes, but you knew what you were doing to be right. Something in you from the moment you met him told you he himself was at no fault, but of course, not everyone would see it that way.

The day you met him, you had ended up giving him a fresh change of clothes that would help him to blend in more. You had offered more, even a meal, but trust would take time to build, and he didn’t want to stick around you too long. 

‘Too many innocent people…’ was all he muttered before giving thanks and leaving without a word.

‘I’m happy to help…’ you hadn’t been sure if he even heard you, but surprisingly it wasn't long before you saw him again; with time, the two of you built a sense of trust. Bucky would never stay too long, but when he did you would allow him to use your own facilities if he needed, You would make him a warm meal almost every time, and give him another fresh change of clothes if he needed them.

Trust takes time though, and you didn’t know much of the story of why he was even here. You didn’t want to push or pry, but you couldn’t help but wonder sometimes. 

Today was the day you’d learn.

The old soldier hesitantly stepped into your home. It always made you frown a little to see just how hesitant he was; whatever it was he was hiding from, you wish he didn’t have to.

“I know you don’t like to, but I made my sofa up for you just in case-”

“Sofa? The couch?” You went a little red and chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry, I didn’t grow up here..” and for the first time, you saw him smile. It was little, but it was there. It made your heart flutter just a bit, causing you to smile.

“I might take you up on that.” His words were quiet as he walked in to see the couch. You had set a single, plump pillow on one end, and laid your biggest blanket over the piece of furniture. Bucky had been so hesitant to talk even one word to anyone, nevermind taking refuge from someone, but he couldn’t even remember the last time he had a nice place or spot to sleep. Not only that, but you seemed genuine to him. Deep down he knew he could trust you. Your smile widened.

“Are you hungry?” At your question, he looked back at you with a small nod. The tired look in his eyes made you want to really look after him, but there was only so much you could do and you didn’t want to startle him.

That night, you sat on opposite ends of the couch as you ate a freshly cooked meal, some sitcom on the TV. Eventually you decided to ask him what had happened to land him here. There was no pressure to answer of course, and you were more than willing to forget you asked if he didn’t yet feel comfortable to tell his story… but he did. You listened patiently and quietly as Bucky talked about The Winter Soldier.

Little did you know just how far you had already fallen for this man.

~~ Avengers Civil War ~~

After hiding for so long, Bucky had to admit there was something refreshing about now being out in the open.Of course, the circumstances were most unfortunate, but whatever happened, he would no longer be in hiding. Therefore he wouldn’t be putting you in any more potential danger. The two of you had grown quite close, and if anything happened to you because of him, well.. he didn’t like to think about it.

People like himself existed and had been used to assassinate King T’Chaka, and now the group his best friend Steve had put together were trying to get to the guy behind all of this. Unfortunately Tony Stark had created an obstacle for them. The old soldier could see that both men were somewhat regretful, but firm in their beliefs. Before he knew it, the fighting had begun.

Bucky and Sam Wilson had hidden in the airport terminal to start when this kid in a red and blue costume came at them. Sam knocked the kid away, so Bucky ran after them, and when he reached them, he saw an opening and threw a chunk of metal at the weirdly flexible kid. Naturally this kid was able to throw it right on back before being tackled by Wilson again.

Reaching the both of them just in time, Bucky ran between them as the spider kid flung himself at Sam, landing both the men in the floor below and his metal arm in some sort of.. webbing. The old soldier hated the fact they ended up in this position because of a child who didn’t even sound as though he had hit puberty yet. That’s when the kid was thrown out the window by the little robot bird.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” he growled at Sam, genuinely annoyed with the guy.

“I hate you.” Bucky merely scoffed at the response. They were in the middle of something big, but for a brief moment he found it funny that Steve’s new friend was this guy of all people.

Despite all this, you were still there. In his mind. With everything now in the open, he hoped your part in all of this was still in the dark. He just wanted you safe. To live your life.

~~ present time ~~

To Bucky, it almost felt like his past had repeated somewhat; to skip from one time to the other was confusing and frustrating. At least this time around it wasn’t as far into the future as the last time.

For you, however, it was a lonely experience. With The Snap, you had stayed behind. You lived out those five years. You had found a connection with this older guy you absolutely adored, and then you find out he was snapped out of existence along with half the planet. Lonely was an understatement, especially at the start.

At least he didn’t physically die - a fact you turned out to be grateful for when suddenly all those who had been Snapped were back. Of course, you knew the type of life Bucky led beforehand, so you were still worried, but you hoped with time he would contact you again. That hopefully things had finally calmed down at least somewhat in the world now. 

Meanwhile, in the last five years you had moved to New York. With half the world gone, work had been a difficult adjustment for everyone, and you decided to start your own little business in The Big Apple; a prime area for you. It was just a little fashion/clothing business, but it turned out well enough to keep you afloat. Business got quite busy when everyone reappeared. It was stressful at first, but you managed to hire a few other people that helped. You were even able to start taking a little time to yourself occasionally in all due time. Eventually it became the norm.

With business and the world calming down, Bucky Barnes had been on your mind recently. You wondered where he was, if he was alright.

You were in your store. It was a weirdly calm day today, so you sat on a chair behind the main cash register. You heard the door open, but by the time you looked up, the person had disappeared behind one of the clothing racks. You thought about keeping an eye on them, ready to get up if it looked like they needed assistance.

“I got ‘im.” One of your workers said from behind you, offering a smile as she walked past you.

“Thanks.” You smiled back, watching her hover near whoever the customer was before looking back down at the book in your hands. You seemed to get quite into the book, because before you knew  it, a shadow stood over you, but you didn’t notice until he spoke.

“Hey..” the voice caused your heart to stop as your ears perked and a weird yet pleasant shiver flew down your spine. You knew that voice. You knew eventually you would see him again, but it was still a surprise.

Slowly, you closed the book, and your eyes dragged up until they were on that same face you had last seen way over five years ago now. His hair was short now, but it was him alright. It was Bucky.

The man offered a small smile and wave as you stared at him. You had no idea what to do.

“Uh.. this your place?”

“Yeah…”

“You’ve done well.”

“I’ve had a lot of time.” Your responses were automatic. Your mind was blank.

“Uuhh..”

“Bucky?” You stared at him with wide eyes, your voice triggered a slightly wider smile on his lips as he nodded.

“It’s been a while.” His words made you scoff loudly.

“You’re telling me!” The both of you chuckled. The last five years had felt so long for you, but the two of you were already falling back into your old dynamic.

“... Listen Y/N.. all that old stuff.. The Winter Soldier stuff… it’s gone now.” His words made you smile for him. You knew how much his past had troubled him. You doubted it was completely out of the way, but you knew what he meant.

“No more hiding?”

“No more hiding.” Bucky smiled, a look of genuine relief on his face.

Just then, a group of teen girls walked in and your smile disappeared for a moment.

“I’m at work. I’m the boss but I still gotta work, we can’t..”

“I know a place we can go to later if you want? Catch up?”

“I’d love to! I close up around six today, we can go after then.”

“Perfect! I’ll come back and we can walk there together.” You smiled and nodded, too shy to say anything else right now. Bucky smiled before turning around, looking back at you as he opened the door to leave. You gave him a little shy wave.

You spent the next few hours constantly thinking about Bucky and finally being able to see and talk to him again. Excited was an understatement. You were happy. Bucky was back. You were always too shy to say anything about what you felt, but absolute adoration was another understatement when it came to that man.

The clock had finally struck six. Your employees were now leaving, and you decided to check the store, make sure everything was alright before closing up. The same employee that had helped out earlier that day came up to you as you picked up your things.

“Your gentleman caller is waiting outside.” She had a knowing smile on her face. She even seemed kind of excited and she stood there and waited as you blushed.

“Thank you..” you attempted to avoid her gaze as you packed the rest of your things in your bag.

“I’ll tell him you won’t be long.” At that, you offered her a smile before she left and you took a moment to relax before following.

Bucky wasn’t right there as you left through the front, but when you turned back around after shutting and locking the place, there he was just a couple feet away from you. A small flower bouquet in his hand. Your heart melted at the sight.

“I know you’re not much of a flower person, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.. You know… with the time gap and all.. But these are your favourites.” Bucky looked almost nervous. You shyly stuck your hand out to take the bouquet, your fingers brushing against his as you did.

“They’re perfect, thank you.” A small smile tugged at your lips again as you looked at them before looking back to the man in front of you.

“I’ve missed you Y/N.”

“Me too.. You that is! I’ve missed you, not myself.” You blushed as Bucky chuckled at your flustered self. He then held out an arm.

“Shall we?” You hesitated before taking hold of his arm with your free hand, a feeling of happy warmth washing over you.

“We shall.”

Tagging; @blondekel77 @book-hoardingdragon @mandosmimi

[matildashoney]

Concept: you and Harry are exes and have to attend a wedding together (my song inspo is I Almost Do, but ofc you can take it anywhere you want!!)

Harry knew they would see each other again. It was inevitable, wasn't it?

Harry knew from the moment they decided to part ways that dreaded night that he would see her again, that this wouldn't be the end. He assumed that they would keep in contact, that she would reach out to him to let her know of the promotion that she received at her company, or maybe to congratulate him on the new single.

Harry did reach out, sort of, through their mutual friend, the one that’s getting married, the wedding that they’ll both be in attendance of. They kind of have to be, as part of the bridal party. Harry asked how she was doing over brunch, and their mutual friend – Molly is her name – said that she was doing well. This made Harry quiet, unsure of where to go. It’s not that he was expecting her to be doing poorly, he didn’t want that for her, especially not because he was still in love with her, but there was a part of him that was hoping she was even the tiniest bit as miserable as he was. That’s the selfish part of him, the one part she always complained about. That’s the reason they split, in the end. Harry was a bit selfish, is a bit selfish, and she wasn’t willing to give up her life for the touring and the music and the craziness that surrounded him.

YN’s whole life, all she wanted was to be an engineer.

YN used to tell her mother and father, “I want to build bridges and skyscrapers and all the things!” and when she was old enough to go to school and pursue her passions, that’s exactly what she was doing. Little did she know that she would start building stages for some of the biggest recording acts known to the music industry. Her career took her across the world, from Sydney to Tokyo to London, and she fell in love with what she was doing, even if she started at it by mistake. Her best friends were met through the industry, people that she fell in love with, people she grew to care for deeply and never wished to be parted from in her life.

Harry Styles is one of those people.

Immediately, Harry and YN hit it off, talking about their experiences in the music industry, the concerts they’ve seen, the stages they’ve loved and hated. They bonded over their love for artists and the way that music is unique to everyone, and how everyone’s muse is a little bit different. YN wasn’t nosey or prying into his personal life, and to be honest, she couldn’t care less. Harry was simply Harry in those moments in the office, not Harry Styles, the pop sensation. That’s how she saw him. That’s how she always saw him, even at the end of everything.

YN knew what she wanted and demanded it gets done. Harry liked that. He made that much very clear. She was pretty much expecting it when Harry asked her out for the first time. Harry asked her on their first date the night she visited the O2 Arena for their first construction of the stage, her first time seeing it live and in action. Harry had asked her on a date a bit before he was about to go on stage when he was dressed and ready and his band was making their way and she was mingling with other techs. It was quick, caught her off guard if she was honest. “Would you get drinks with me after the show?”

And before YN could properly understand what was happening in her life, she and Harry were exchanging keys to each other’s houses and staying the night and moving in clothing and going to weddings together. Their friends called it a whirlwind romance, and many of them admittedly said it was something that couldn’t see lasting past a few months – great friends they had back then – but if she was being honest with herself, which often she was, she loved every minute of it. YN loved Harry, more than she loved anyone before him, and she wanted to spend her life loving him and loving her career.

YN enjoyed going to the studio and hearing him record the songs that would never get heard past her ears. Harry loved watching her sketch out new stage plans for artists that he adored. They loved going to concerts together, seeing her work portrayed to thousands and thousands. Mutually, they respected each other’s crafts and their dedication, and it was something that bonded them more than it separated them.

Until the dreaded tour conversation came about.

Harry wanted her to come with him, to take a year remotely and travel the world with him, with her significant other, her partner. YN wanted Harry to understand that her career came first, just like his. That he didn’t like. In Harry’s eyes, YN came first, that he would’ve dropped everything for her and she wouldn’t do the same. Harry wouldn’t listen after that, and it led to a dreaded conversation in her kitchen with their keys on the table and two glasses of wine, saying that maybe in another life this was meant to be.

Eight months later, Harry is trying to prepare himself for what it’ll be like to see her again. Harry’s never stopped loving her. Hell, he’s written an entire album of songs that no one will ever hear because they’re lyrics he only wants her to hear. He nearly sent it to her, last month, all the recordings, simply to see if she would have something to say.

Always an almost. That’s how everything has been with YN, lately. Almost called. Almost sent the recordings. Almost reached out. Harry can never do the damn thing. He can never just say it. It’s always on the tip of his tongue, one step away. Harry’s always just one step away from her.

He can see her from across the room. It’s easy to notice her. YN is so fucking beautiful. He’s always said that, that her beauty is unlike anything he’s ever seen before. He notices her before he’s even made his way to the room where all the groomsmen are getting ready. Her voice travels through the tiny hallway in the hotel and Harry stops dead in his tracks, aching at the sound. He hasn’t heard her voice in so long. Way too long. He doesn’t want to disturb her, to take her away from her friends that she’s talking to, but more than anything he wants to steal her away and talk, just talk about anything, to simply hear her voice.

YN sees Harry almost as easily as he sees her – he certainly spotted her first – and walks right to him with her signature smile printed on her lips, leaving her friends behind and waving them off when they mention waiting for her. He swallows thickly and nearly extends his arm to shake her hand – now what would she have done with that – but she is too quick for him, always has been, and hugs him tightly, whispering, “Hey, H.” Harry nearly melts at the name. “It’s good to see you.”

Hugging feels intimate in the quiet hallway, and Harry stops himself a few times from breathing her in, the scent of her perfume that he knows too well bringing back memories that existed only in the furthest depths of his memory. He smiles warmly when she loosens her grip and steps away, saying something about seeing him at the aisle and saving a dance for her, something along those lines. He was too in awe of her to be paying all that much attention, in all honesty.

Harry watched as she walked away, and silently beat himself up for not saying more.

Harry’s hand was shaking against his side when YN walked towards him at the base of the aisle. He silently told his brain to ‘quit fucking around’ but it didn’t do all that much. She slinked her arm through his and smiled, nodding towards where the other bridesmaids were already walking and waiting for them. He didn’t notice that he was keeping them behind.

Green eyes are on her the entire ceremony, and she surely notices. Everyone does. Nearly to the point where one of the groomsmen nudge his arm and make him stare at the bride for even a nanosecond. Harry shrugs it off, saying that it’s nothing and that’s he’s fine, but everyone knows that he’s swimming with regret and unanswered questions.

He is fine. Harry’s fine. He’s fine until YN walks over and says, “I think you owe me a dance.”

Harry smiles his signature smile and stands, leaving his whiskey on the table and scooting his chair against the hardwood floor, taking her hand that’s stretched out for him and bravely kissing her knuckles. YN smiles, and he knows that wherever this is going, it’s nowhere near what the worst-case scenario he created in his head might have been.

“God, I love this song,” she says as soon as they make their way to the dance floor. “I’m working on their stage, right now. They have a tour coming up, this year.”

Harry circles his arms around her waist, exactly like he used to, and brings her into his chest, their faces mere inches from each other. Her hands lay on his shoulders, inching towards his neck, and the way their eyes are staring into each other’s make him know that there is still something there, even in the slightest capacity. “Busy bee, as always.”

“Have to do something with my time,” she giggles, shrugging her shoulders and licking her lips. Harry remembers that she does this when she’s nervous, and for the first time that night, it feels like his nerves begin to ease. “How are you? How’s everything?”

“Eh, well, I’m okay, I guess,” Harry says, and he believes that to be true. He is okay. He knows better than to lie to her, too. YN has a radar for bullshit. “I wrote two albums, this year.”

“Two?” YN blinks, waiting for confirmation. When Harry doesn’t say anything in return, she continues, “That’s amazing, H. I’m really proud of you.”

Harry doesn’t know how to react to that sentiment, because, although it feels painfully good to hear, it is still painful, nonetheless. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“It’s been a while since we talked,” she says softly, sliding her arms further around his shoulders and clasping her hands together behind his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner. I, there were things I wanted to tell you, and I wanted to share with you, but I just couldn’t. Things felt too raw. I wanted to talk, but every time I would go to dial your number, it was like, a mental block.”

Harry nods sadly, almost like he’s agreeing with her. “I know. I almost called, I almost texted. Good amount of almost things. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“H, we said we’d stay friends.”

“Am I not your friend, YN?” Harry chuckles, but she knows that there is pain behind it, an aching question that is dying to be answered unless the answer is something neither of them wants to admit. “Honestly, I just thought you’d moved on or hated me. I resigned to either of those reasons. I was okay with either, as long as you’re happy. That’s all I wanted to know.”

“Harry,” she says, shaking her head adamantly and meeting his glassy stare, “that’s the last thing from the truth.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a minute or two, maybe more, and YN is beginning to wonder if this conversation was a mistake. His silence is deafening and there’s a moment where she thinks she’ll slip out of his grasp, only to feel his palms widen on her back and one hand slip away to take her hand and spin her around. Harry smiles softly and listens to her laugh, and soaks in the sound, very unaware of where the conversation will go afterwards.

Music still plays behind them, and couples come and go from the dance floor. Harry and YN mind their business, dancing quietly and leaning into each other and soaking at the moment that feels like it could last a lifetime. His hand is holding hers, his other splayed across her lower back, and her cheek is resting on his shoulder when he whispers, “I still love you.”

Her hair falls down her back and across her face when she turns her head on his shoulder, and Harry reaches forward with their interlocked hands and brushes it away from her cheek. His expression is neutral, calm, and she can barely tell if she was meant to hear the confession or not. “Harry.”

“I still love you.”

[boldlyanxious]

Meeting again

Jasonette July SC 5: continuation from design

I stole the idea from a comment

Sorry. I meant it was inspired by a comment

Teen rated for kissing. Some suggestive comments

Jasonette July

All fic masterlist

Jason entered the ballroom and looked around. It felt as if nothing had changed in the years since he had last been to one of these events, but he sure had. He used to try to make everyone happy because it made Bruce happy but now he didn’t even know. He knew Dick used to have women all over him whether they were actually interested in him or just interested in the money he never knew, but with this being his engagement party he would likely have far fewer women making the attempt.

Jason didn’t think he would end up with the overflow even with only the most desperate women falling all over Dick. He didn't care anyway. He knew he had too many rough edges and he wasn't willing to change for someone. His break with Bruce had been too well known for him to get gold diggers. They may not have known all the reasons but it was pretty obvious when they never were seen together and Jason’s life was completely separate. This would be the first public family event Jason had been to in a couple years. He planned on behaving himself though. Babs had come by to deliver the invitation herself. He had always been friendly with her and she said that Dick really wanted to leave the past in the past. He wanted his brother back and with him when he celebrated the engagement.

There was a crowd around Dick when Jason arrived and he wasn’t quite ready to face that. He would wait until the crowd thinned or just nod from across the room. He headed for the drinks first. He wasn’t sure if he needed to take the edge off or if he just liked having something in his hand as a buffer. He smiled and offered polite greetings to those he saw. He remembered a few of the names but not all. By the looks of confusion he got, he didn’t think many of them connected him to the grinning child he once was.

He saw his opening and made his way over to Dick and Babs. Babs saw him first and turned to Dick to get his attention but just as their eyes met Jason saw something that took all of his attention in an instant. Marinette was across the room. He assumed that she was wearing the dress she mentioned with his handiwork down her side and disappearing into the lace. It's was pink and lacy with the side open showing his marks across her ribs. It was mesmerizing. He didn't even plan to alter course until he was walking towards her. Even realizing that she was dancing with Bruce didn't stall him.

This must have been the event that she had mentioned and the client she had been working with. He respected that she hadn’t mentioned the name. Name dropping was probably common in her business but she had chosen to respect the client over possible name recognition. He walked right over to the couple as they danced and spoke to Bruce when he looked up at him.

“That definitely looks like too much for you to handle. I would love to help you out.”

He winked down at Marinette when she looked at him. Bruce scowled.

“Jason, that really isn’t appropriate. Do try to maintain some decorum, for Dick and Babs’ sake.” Bruce said.

“Jason. I didn’t know you would be here.” Marinette was smiling at him.

They had stopped at the edge of the dance floor.

“I didn’t realize you had met my other son, Ms Dupain Cheng.” Bruce said.

“I’ve had my hands all over her.”

“Really Jason.” Marinette scolded before turning back to Bruce “I didn't know he was your son. Jason was my tattoo artist. I think it turned out great.”

She turned to show off her side but Jason couldn’t pull his eyes away from the color that filled her cheeks when he talked about having his hands on her. Bruce still looked skeptical.

“So you should definitely be out there dancing to show off your work, and mine. Should we show him how it is done?”

Marinette responded by taking his hand and pulling him to the dance floor. This was so much better than having her in the shop. He may have dropped a couple flirty lines there but he still had to make sure she was comfortable with him as an artist.

“So I called the number you left with me and you never returned my call.”

“I know. I’ve been so busy and I didn’t want it to come off like I was blowing you off when I called back. I was waiting until I didn’t feel so tired.”

“That ended up coming off like you were blowing me off.”

“I know. I hope you didn’t lose all interest.”

“I think I could be persuaded to be interested again.”

He pulled her tight against him and dipped her low. Then slowly brought her back up to him. He could feel her shiver as he trailed his fingers down her back until her reached her exposed side. It was his turn to shiver when she responded by digging her fingers into his back. They didn’t scratch through his suit jacket but he could feel her meaning behind the action. It suddenly looked like it would be a long night if he had to stick around here. He leaned down and talked against her hair.

“You make me want to drag you out of here and find some place quiet. But I have to go wish the happy couple well.”

Dick eyed them as they approached. He smirked at Jason and winked. He definitely looked like he didn’t mind being passed over for a pretty girl. He was surprised at how well Dick and Babs actually seemed to know Marinette. He quickly found out that she had designed their outfits for the engagement party but was also already making the wedding dress. Babs had met her at the library. She was lost in her research in the back room studying old fashion volumes while Babs was doing some IT work there. Marinette had heard Babs complain about needing a coffee and brought her one when she stopped for a research break. They had become friends after that.

He stayed and caught up with Dick for a while but his eyes followed Marinette when she stopped talking to Babs and the other ladies who were desperate for details about the wedding dress. She ended up passing out a lot of business cards. He wasn’t sure if she really had limited availability to make something before the wedding or if she said that to make herself seem more exclusive. The wedding was almost a year away, but he also didn’t know how long it took to do any of that. He knew well enough that people often didn’t expect as much time and money to go into art as it would actually take.

Eventually he wandered away from Dick. He even stopped and talked to Bruce for a few tense minutes. Maybe things would get better with time, but for now they just continually butted heads so they tried to stick to neutral topics. He did not stick around when Tim showed up. He started to say something but nothing he could say here and now would be enough for the history between them. He excused himself and wandered off. He wanted to dance with Marinette again. There was no one else he wanted to dance with but she was dancing with someone else so he stepped out of the ballroom for a bit.

It was a few minutes later when he heard a click of heels in the hallway behind him. He turned and there she was walking toward him. He prepared himself to say something clever and smooth when she reached him but she didn’t give him the chance. He took a step toward her but she grabbed him by his lapels and shoved him against the wall. The back of his legs hit a bench and he sat, unsure of what she was doing until she pressed herself against him. She moved her hands up to his face and slid them into his hair as she put her lips against his. He settled back against the bench and pulled her close as he returned the kiss. It was fierce and pressing. He could barely keep up with her.

He pushed his hands against her back to get her to move closer. She complied by adjusting her dress and climbing onto his lap without pulling their lips apart. He slid his hands up her sides and she moaned into his mouth. Her hands came out of his hair and scratched down his back again. He had never hated a suit jacket as much as he did right now, he may burn it later if he didn’t have other things to do after. He pulled away from her slightly and kissed along her jaw until he could whisper into her ear.

“I wish I could just take you out of here now.”

“I need to go back in there or I probably would,” she responded.

“I do too. I can’t leave without saying something. I hadn’t planned on this little interlude.”

“You shouldn’t have come dressed like that.” she said. “Especially after all your flirting last time.”

"If it is having this effect on you I will never take it off."

"Can I?" she asked.

She had far too innocent a look on her face and he was struggling to respond. He was tempted to forget everything and drag her away to continue what they started. But she just smirked at him and walked away. He found a mirror and fixed his hair and tie. It was clear when he saw her that she had stopped to fix herself before returning to the ballroom. Pity, he loved how her lips had looked after kissing him.

It was the best of expectations for him. Most of the people didn’t really remember him well and those who did expected a scene and he spent most of the night keeping his eyes out for his greatest reason not to cause a scene. He also had a chance to catch up with Alfred. He had missed the man who had always been like a grandfather. Alfred seemed like he had much more understanding and empathy for the choices Jason had made even if he didn’t like all the things he had done. Alfred would always be loyal to the family and he took the opportunity to make sure Jason knew that family included him.

He pulled the man into a hug, overcome with emotion at the acceptance. He hadn’t much felt like he was accepted recently. Now with Dick reaching out and Alfred telling him how much he still cared, he felt that he was getting his family back. All his life it felt like his family was constantly falling apart. It was one thing after another until the brief time he was living with Bruce. Marinette approached the two of them and he wondered now if he could find that feeling again, with her. He introduced Alfred to her as his grandfather and the man had a twinkle in his eye.

“Lovely to meet you Ms. Dupain Cheng. I do hope Jason is asking you to dance. With him he may just like to sneak off to a deserted hallway.”

Jason eyed the man certain that he had spied them earlier. He chose to ignore what he said and follow his recommendation. He held out his hand to her and she went with him to the dance floor. It was a nice slow song and he pulled her close and swayed with her and she laid her head on his shoulder. It was the most perfect feeling in the world. The song ended and he started to pull back but she pulled him closer and they stayed that way through the next song. It was also slow so they just stayed together and kept the same pace. The music stopped as the song ended and he could tell the celebrated couple were getting ready to make a speech.

Marinette pulled him down for a quick kiss before turning to hear the couple talk about their lives and thank everyone for coming out to celebrate with them. Jason stood right behind Marinette and slid his arms around her. She looked up at him and smiled as she leaned back against him. He rubbed his thumbs against her ribs and leaned down and kissed her head. A waiter offered champagne for them to toast with the couple. Everyone clinked glasses and cheered. Marinette took his hand from her and turned to him.

“So did I manage to persuade you into having interest in me again,” she asked.

“You might have.”

“I wish you knew because it is time for me to leave.”

“How about I go with you and we can find out together?"

He pulled her in for a kiss. When they pulled away she took his hand and they walked out together.

Taglist

@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna

[negasonicimagines]

Tell Me I'm Not Funny

Request: darkandmysteriousbutheartofgold!ellie and wholesomeanddoesn'tunderstandwhyelliedoesn'tlikeher!reader where they're both part of the friend group but ellie just thinks reader is straight and messing with her pls

Notes: I don’t usually write MCU!Peter, so if he comes up in any future fics (like as the reader’s stepdad 👀 I’ve loved spideypool longer than I’ve loved Negasonic) you can safely assume it’s Andrew Garfield. But, for this time, this is MCU!Peter. Everyone in the friend group is 18-20, just to be clear.

This really isn't my best work, but it's a fun little slice of life piece. A lot of my ideas are pretty cinematic, I can picture them in my head but sometimes those pictures don't really translate into words. I may revisit this one day.

Warnings: D-slur (reclaimed by Ellie in one line), allusions to prior assault (an unwanted kiss that could've been more had another character not stepped in), and that's about it. Oh, and a little swearing, but this is an imagine for a character from Deadpool. If you can't handle swearing, you're on the wrong blog.

Synopsis: You’re into Ellie, but she’s with your good friend Peter. She treats you like you don’t even exist, and in the few instances she does acknowledge you, it’s usually just to make some sarcastic remark. You’re head-over-heels, though, and decide to deal with your unrequited love by writing her a song she’ll never hear.

“Fuck, that movie was terrible,” Michelle groans. “I’m just glad it was a matinee show and we didn’t have to pay as much to see it.”

“The special effects were good, but can’t Disney just leave stuff alone?” Peter agrees.

“Next thing you know they’ll be making a live action Toy Story, as if the original wasn’t traumatizing enough. I don’t want to imagine Watermelon as a sentient being. She’s seen some shit,” you snicker.

“Who’s Watermelon?” Ellie asks with a dark chuckle, and you clam up. How had you forgotten she was here?

“Oh, uh, nobody.”

“Don’t tell me you still sleep with a stuffed animal,” she snarks. “You really do need to grow up.”

“Don’t be mean, Ellie,” Peter protests.

“Watermelon is cute, everybody likes cute things!” Yukio adds.

“I think a live-action Toy Story could be cool,” Ned says. “It’d look really good if they did stop-motion animation.”

“Oh, you’re right!” you chirp. “It’d be quite the undertaking, but it would look badass.”

“I think you’re using that term a little loosely,” Ellie grumbles, and you have to stop yourself from frowning, instead you laugh it off. Why does she always pick on you? Sure, she’s got a witty remark for everybody, but she’s way harder on you. It hurts, she really is so gorgeous and funny and mysterious and everything you want in a woman, but she acts like she can’t stand you.

Ellie and Peter head off together, Peter still hasn’t gotten around to getting his license and Ellie seems happy to give him a ride. You really don’t stand a chance.

You and the others pile up in MJ’s SUV for some late-night band practice.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit to Yukio in the furthest row back.

“You can,” she insists. “You’re a way better singer than Lola, anyways.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression, I-”

“For the millionth time, Y/N, you didn’t. If she hadn’t left the band, we would’ve kicked her out. Not just for cheating on me, but for hurting you.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Why can’t you sing instead?”

“Because I’m flat.”

“Yukio, breast size doesn’t have anything to do with singing ability, you’ve just gotta practice,” you joke.

“Shut up!” she giggles, punching you in the arm. “Plus, when you sing, the songs are being sung as they were written. We’re getting the real feelings.”

“Speaking of… I have something new I’m thinking about sharing tonight. Do you mind if I text you the demo?”

“Ooh, a first look! Hell yes!”

You text her the audio file and she puts in a wireless earbud, nodding along. Her smile gets wider and wider as she listens, and when she’s done, her assessment shocks you.

“Oh my gosh. You’re into Ellie.”

“What?!” you squeak. “No way!”

“You are! But, uh-”

“Don’t even say it. I know I don’t have a chance in hell. She only tolerates me for the sake of you and Peter.” Despite the gloominess of your tone, Yukio gets a mischievous glint in her eye, it confuses you. But, that’s just Yukio. Her thoughts are all over the place; she and Ellie balance each other out that way. They dated a couple of years ago, but it didn’t work out. They decided they were better off as friends.

“Screw that other song, we’re using this as the lead single. Everybody’s gonna love it, do you have the sheet music?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s in my bag.”

“Awesome.” Yukio’s grinning like she’s won something. Is the song that good? “We’ll have to practice this one a lot, we definitely need to have it ready by the concert this Friday.”

Right. Liz’s 19th birthday party. Apparently Peter had convinced her to let the band play, it’d be cheaper than hiring a more established artist.

“Our first paying gig? I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you remind her. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“We’re mostly gonna be playing covers of Liz’s favorite songs, and she only has so many. We’ve gotta beef up the setlist with originals, and this is perfect! Has that pop-y fun vibe, it’ll fit right in.”

“Yeah, but if it’s that obvious how I feel about her after one listen-”

“Only because I already had a hunch after Daft Pretty Boys,” Yukio clarifies cheerily, and you sigh.

“Fair enough.”

The gang makes it to Michelle’s house, travelling down to the side door and going into the basement from there. MJ’s parents have encouraged her creativity from day one, and were ecstatic when the band was formed. You speculate that they’re mostly happy that she’s made friends. Writing and photography can be lonely hobbies.

“Y/N has something new for us!” Yukio chirps.

“That fast?” Ned’s surprised as you hand him the sheet music. He skims it. “Holy shit, this is a wicked solo! Thanks, Y/N!”

“Well, I’m hoping highlighting everybody else’s talent will disguise my lack thereof,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be stupid, we’ve all heard you sing backup,” MJ says. “You’re Ryan Ross, she’s Brendon Urie. I’m just glad we booted her out before she decided she was gonna be the only pangolin in The Pangolins.”

Everyone laughs at that.

“Let’s try it,” Michelle continues, and everybody agrees. After a sound check and a few runs of the song, it’s still clumsy, especially on your part. You’re not really used to playing and singing at the same time, outside of backup vocals, which require far less focus.

“I suck,” you mumble, but it happens to be into the microphone.

“You don’t!” Ned insists.

“With that attitude, we’re not going anywhere,” Yukio says. You hate it when she gets to the tough love stage of her support. You wish she’d stay in the shallow reassurances stage, it’s easier to brush off. “You wouldn’t be the lead singer if we all thought you sucked. We would’ve just put an ad in the paper. You’re awesome, get over it!”

You sigh.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Say it,” she insists.

“I’m awesome,” you huff, it’s hard not to smile when Yukio tries to look serious.

“Damn straight,” Yukio says. “Or, I guess not, considering that was about Ellie.”

“Yukio!” you squeal.

“That’s about Ellie?!” Ned exclaims.

“Obviously,” MJ scoffs, fiddling with her tuners.

“Is it that obvious?!” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Ellie probably knows exactly how you feel, maybe that’s why she dislikes you so much. Her boyfriend’s stupid friend has a crush.

“Wait, but at the beginning…” Ned trails off, before laughing. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”

“Get what? Oh… Y/N, have I ever told you how much I love you?” MJ asks.

“I- I love you, too?” You’re puzzled by their words, but you’ve got enough on your plate.

“Let’s go ahead and practice some of Liz’s favorites while we’re here,” Yukio suggests. “It’s a pretty big set list.”

You practice until dinner, getting a pizza and deciding to make a night of it since it was a little late for Michelle to be dropping you all off at your assorted residences.

You all sleep on a pallet in the basement, and despite your worries, you manage to get some rest.

Over the next few days, The Pangolins practice at every free moment, until it’s finally time for the party.

“So, just pictures of everything?” Oh, shit. She’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to sing that song with her here?

“Yeah! I know with how many people are coming, I’m probably not going to get as much time as I want with everyone, so pictures will be a good way to remember the night.”

“Why not just invite less people?” Ellie wonders.

“I want all my friends to be here,” Liz explains. “How’s the sound check going, Y/N?”

“It’s going great,” you say into the microphone, demonstrating the quality and volume with a smile. “Thanks for letting us play here tonight.”

“Well, Peter said you guys are great. Are you really gonna debut your best song so far tonight?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, stepping away from the microphone. “Maybe not.”

“What? Oh, come on, please, it’ll make the night even more special! You’re playing covers of all my old favorites, sing me my new favorite!” Liz presses, but she’s not being demanding or bratty, she seems genuinely excited.

“If the birthday girl says so, who am I to say no?” you concede. Hopefully Ellie will be too distracted taking pictures. “You have way too much faith in me.”

“If you don’t quit with the self-deprecation, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut,” MJ interjects.

“But, Daddy, how will I say my safe word?” you tease, giggling at your own joke with the rest of the group. Yukio’s laugh seems the loudest. Ellie glares.

“We should practice a song!” Ned suggests.

“Ooh, a private show!” Liz seems excited.

“Any requests?” you ask her. Ellie’s resting scowl intensifies. If she’s more pissed off the more you open your mouth, you’re not sure how she’s gonna survive a night of you singing without going nuclear.

“Oh, oh, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, please?”

“You’ve got it,” you agree.

The song goes smoothly.

“What happened to the old singer?” Ellie asks, clearly unimpressed.

“You didn’t tell her?” you ask Yukio, grateful for the excuse to turn away from the sharp-tongued girl you adore.

“Didn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Yukio explains. “She already makes enough rude comments towards you.” Yukio leans over her drum kit to give Ellie a pointed look.

“Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. You, uh, sound good, Y/N.”

You can’t help but whip your head back to look at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“What?! It’s true,” Ellie defends herself.

“Uh, yeah, but you just said something nice. About me. Liz, do you mind checking her for a fever?”

Liz obliges for the sake of going along with the joke before quickly withdrawing her hand.

“Jeez! I know you were kidding, but she’s burning up,” Liz declares.

“My internal temperature is higher due to my mutation,” Ellie quickly explains, looking a bit bashful. “Besides, I say nice shit about Y/N all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” the whole band says in unison, including you.

“Well, clearly I shouldn’t if everyone’s gonna make a big fucking deal about it,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some pictures of the decorations before there’s a bunch of fucking people here to block them.”

She stomps off in her heavy boots, and The Pangolins get back to work, putting on the final touches and making sure all the blocking looks right.

Soon enough, guests start flooding in, and Liz zips around to greet them, eventually meeting up with Peter and keeping him with her. He and Liz eventually pull Ellie away from her picture-taking, confident she’s done enough and needs to just relax and enjoy the party.

So much for distracting herself with work, she thinks.

They sit on the couch and eat, the dining room was monopolized by The Pangolins due to its elevation and space.

Ellie’s mesmerized by the way your fingers move until she hears Peter talking to Liz. They really are a cute couple.

“You really do need to hang out with us. Yukio told me Y/N thinks Ellie and I are a thing,” he says.

“Gross, you’re like my annoying little brother,” Ellie remarks.

“And you’re like my bitchy older sister,” Peter retorts with a shit-eating grin.

“Both of you, quiet! They’re about to play the new song. You’re in for a real treat, Ellie.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

Liz gives Peter a confused and slightly irritated look.

“I haven’t said anything to her, I didn’t know how,” Peter squeaks, blushing a little at the look in his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Explain, quickly,” Ellie demands.

But, then you start to sing again.

“Y/N-” Peter starts.

“Shut up.”

“But you asked-”

“I said, shut up,” Ellie insists.

“You know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend. I seem to have this effect on women, and your friends aren't as goofy as I am. I try my best to keep you entertained, always laughing at the jokes you are saying. I nod my head when you make a point, oh oh…

“Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed! Whisper that your heart shows all I want is you, yeah, you… Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny! Tell me I'm not funny, tell me I’m legit! ‘Cause I feel weak, in your hands and your feet… A precious end, I’ll never feel your touch…”

Ellie continues to listen to the song, all expression drained from her face. All the yearning in the words and your voice, all you want is…

Ellie looks at Peter, who’s looking at her with a triumphant smile.

“I told you.”

Ellie feels like she’s about to faint. She notices you’re talking to Liz— when did she leave? —your hand over your mic. Despite the knowledge that Liz is taken, Ellie gets jealous. You look so happy to be talking to Liz, to just about any girl you talk to.

She wishes you’d smile at her that way.

You nod at whatever Liz said, and the band starts packing away their instruments. Liz sets up her phone on some Bluetooth speakers, and songs that sounded so much better when you were singing them start to play.

No! Ellie internally protests. Sing for me again, please, sing that stupid song about how you think I don’t like you.

Yukio’s dragging you somewhere. Gosh, Ellie wishes it was her holding your hand.

Suddenly, though, you and Yukio are approaching her. She knows what she has to do.

“So, what’d you think of our- Eek! Finally!”

Ellie parts from the kiss to tell her to fuck off and not ruin the moment before kissing you again.

“Holy fucking shit,” you breathe. “Uh, I thought you were-“

“Dating Peter?! Seriously?! Do I need to write ‘dyke’ on my fucking forehead? I practically already have with the way I dress and act and-”

“I, uh, I try not to make assumptions,” you mumble, fingers touching your lips.

“I’m, uh, sorry for not asking.”

“No, it’s- It was good. I’ve wanted you to do that for a while. It’s just that that was the first time somebody’s kissed me, since, uh…” Your eyes dart to Yukio, who’s ruffling Ned’s hair and laughing.

“Yukio?!” Orange flickers in Ellie’s eyes for a moment, but she keeps it under control.

“No, no, of course not, uh… The old singer, Lola. She and Yukio were dating, but apparently I was the one she really had her sights on, and… She was entitled. Thought that because she wanted me, I must want her. That wasn’t really the case, I was already pining over you. Didn’t stop her from forcing a few kisses on me and trying to go further. If Yukio hadn't shown up early with cupcakes, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“I am such an asshole,” Ellie says softly. “Can I kiss you again? The right way.”

“I’d say what you did before was pretty right, but sure,” you consent.

Her kiss before had been rough, needy, and impatient. Just the way you like it. This, though, this is gentle, soft, and exploratory. You tangle your hands in her hair and kiss her harder. She moans into the kiss before pulling away, bewildered.

“That was…” Ellie trails off, trying to find a positive adjective that won’t sound to frilly or lovesick.

“A mistake, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck, no. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she corrects you. “Just- Didn’t really know how. Even when you were kinda flirting with me at first, I just thought you were messing with me, so I- I am so stupid.”

“So am I,” you scoff. “I thought you were dating Peter.”

“I was spending a lot of time with him, but… I was just using him as an excuse to avoid you so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. And I was asking him for advice. I figured if he could land somebody as far out of his league as Liz, maybe I stood the slightest bit of a chance with you. But I kept fucking it up. I’d just get so nervous, all of my compliments would turn into insults, all of my teasing turned into straight-up cruelty. I don’t know how you actually like me.”

“I’m a little bit of a masochist, I’ll admit,” you tell her. “I’m really glad you don’t hate me.”

“I’m really glad you don’t hate me,” Ellie replies, but she can’t help but think that what she‘s really saying is ‘I love you, too.’

She takes your hand, and you two rejoin your friends, swept up in a group hug. They wanted this to happen almost as much as you two did.