#whenever i want to go get myself something for once in a goddamn blue moon. im not going to argue with you anymore its tiring

[endious]

im so fucking goddamn pissed i could punch a wall or stab myself

[nyan-koii]

Hashira ft. Sabito as genshin impact players

aunotes : Bad grammar ahead! I didnt proofread it so be aware of brain damage. plus i initially wrote it at the 1.6 update

PART 1 : T.Muichiro, R.Kyojuro, K.Shinobu, S.Sanemi, U.Tengen 

Muichiro : he probably would be uninterested at first. He's more to first person shooting game or anything other than this concept of farming or investing. So that's why when he saw yuichirou banging his fist on his desk, trying to get his fav character, he would simply just watch

"Fck this game, i've had enough,"

"But you havent finish your wishing things yet,"

Stares. "How about you give it a try mui. You might get the character i want,"

"You sure about that? You might get angry at me," "better than nothing. Now go go, get em you donkey,"

His first ten pulls on the game brings out a light we all want to see

"Eh is tha-" "AAAA A FUCKING 5 STAR FCK FCKFCK,"

Apparently, it was one of the luckiest wish yuichiro had ever seen so far

"OHMYFUCK, you GOT A GODDAMN KLEE, QIQI AND SUCROSE WTFF???"

"I think i get your fav character?"

"Yeahh!! More than that to be honest. I want klee but you brought me two more person," sniffles and cries "you're really lucky mui. You should try and play the game,"

"It's probably the system. I doubt im that lucky tho,"

Nah, he really is lucky. Apparently he wished for his friends and got what they all really wanted for so long

"Thank you for getting me the aquila favonia, muichiro,"

"It's nothing really. I just simply press the button. It might be the system that's giving you the thing you want when i wish,"

"But still, even if i were to wish, i can get really scared and paranoid over it,"

"That's bad. You shouldnt invest yourself that much in the game tanjiro. It's just a game,"

"Ehehehe, i guess so. But you're really good at it muichiro! If you download it, we can play together :D!"

!!!!

It took the word "play together" to get muichiro down on his knee for that game. Usually the idea of playing with your friends is not that interesting. So when tanjiro said that, you bet he's going to play it

Type of player

Extremely lucky it's not even real. He got a five star on the beginner's banner

Fast farming. He probably will complete all the quest and become an endgame player within one month

"I just wanted to play with tanjiro..." bashfully

He's really good with whatever he's doing. Attack combo, dodging, elemental reaction and all sorts of stuff. If he invest more of his time on artifacts, he would probably even one shot it!!

He's very lucky. Very

Kyojuro : he wouldnt even know the existence of this game. Well, he took a glimpse of it one day and boom, heart stolen. Maybe it was the fiery burning passion in bennett that made him play the game.

'oh wow!! What a determined young boy! Even though he has a very bad luck he still keep pushing forward! Amazing!!'

'I want to be like him'

Kyojuro's the type of player to read and pay attention to every single lore of his fav character. Bennett, oh my how he wish he could've had bennett in his team. Every wishes he made would make him a c6 bennett main if only barbara wont stop coming home

"I really like you barbara but i dont want you!! Thank you for the c6 though!! I promise to use you in the future but just-" he prepares to wish

"not NOW!!" Clicks

The highest con of bennett he had ever gotten is probably c1. One day the paimon's bargain shop offered bennett as their monthly character. Kyojuro had never been so excited over a game before. He usually perks up over academics and not this kind of thing. But it's bennett, the character he admires the most.

Unfortunately he couldnt get it due to low currency. He had never feel so sad in his life.

"I shall not give up. Dont worry, i will be a c6 bennett main!!!"

He will be a c6 bennett haver!!

Type of player :

Carefully reads every stories and listens to their lines attentively. He finds it amazing how the company spent their everything on this game. It amazes him. From the stories, lores and lines, he truly appreciates it.

Balance his team pretty well. He mains bennett so he doesnt need that much of a healer in his team.

Enjoys bennett's hangout very much!! He tried to not get him killed by the dungeon's trap but ended up having to sacrifice him which ultimately ends the route. He had never felt so down and guilty before.

Not much of a damage dealer. He prefers to play it in normal mode and doesnt care that much about one shotting monster.

He feeds his character three meals a day!! If only there's a sleep option, he would be sending bennett to sleep first before the rest.

Everyone loves his teapot

Shinobu : found the game while she's scrolling through the app store out of boredom. Initially she played it on her phone but due to the fps and a really bad ping, so bad that douma wouldnt find her interesting anymore, she finally downloaded the game on her pc where things has starting to get real

"Ara, shinobu chan, it's lunch time already. Come downstairs please,"

"Sis give me five more minutes, JUST FIVE PLEASE I NEED TO KICK CHILDE's ASS,"

"he's not going anywhere sweetie,"

"yEAHH BUT MY BP IS,"

'Bp?'

"DIE DIE DIE!!" Aggresive clicking intensifies

"Shinobu chan dont hurt the keyboard that much!!"

She got lucky on the beginner's banner too and pulled a 5 star along with bennett and noelle. Who's the 5 star? Diluc Ragnvindr in all of his glory. Shinobu benched him sadly. She prefers sword over any other weapon

"I mean he's cool i guess but i just really dont get that 'WOAHHH COOL' vibe from him you know?"

"then give your diluc to me! I really want him so bad shinobu chan!"

Deep sighs "yeah sure. You can have my c2 diluc mitsuri..."

Loses 50/50 to diluc everytime everyone would think she either is lucky or cursed by the amount of that man greeting him on the screen. She still bench him though, sadly

"Im begging you, give me jEANN THE GRANDMASTER I NEED HEALER iN MY PARTY TO DO ABYSS

Type of player :

Suffers a lot in the abyss because she just want the primos which is a valid reason to do because that's the only thing that keeps her going

She's a sword character main. She'll properly build every character as either support or dps. The support would be kaeya and bennett, and her main dps ayaka

Ayaka main btw

Honestly at some point she wanted to quit the game because of how tiring it is but then inazuma came out

Fragile resin = 0

Resin = 160/160 happens once in a blue moon

"i should probably control myself with the amount of resin i've used,"

"But i cant,"

Hates domain but always can be seen playing in there

Only coops if mitsuri is there

"So that someone can calm me down,"

"That's not a really good reason shinobu chan,"

Sanemi : dude probably know the game through obanai. He watched the latter play and finds it interesting on how high the numbers he dealt. He loves challenges so a game like genshin impact would probably satisfy his need.

"Obanai, are you hearing this shit?"

"What is it sanemi, im busy doing this event,"

"That loser giyuu is also playing the game,"

"Oh yeah i know,"

"YOU KNOW? WHY YOU DIDNT TELL ME??"

"i just know right after you told me,"

"...."

Sanemi's a meta but a mediocre one. He's meta but he doesnt show it that much. Probably buys welkin once in every three months or when he really needs it same goes with battle pass too. Honestly, he really just use his money when he really needs something

"Donno if my allowance can buy me a welkin so i'll probably skip,"

"But the next banner is zhongli's,"

"....."

"Ah fuck it," buys

My man cant dodge after he got zhongli. Its very painful because he used to studies the enemies movement in the early game so that he can utilizes it on the team but zhongli's shield is so tank he forgot that dodging exists

"Im gonna kill you and you and you hhahaahhaah just you wait im gonna shred all of yo- oh shit zhongli's shield. puT IT BACK PUT IT BACK ON,"

That one event where zhongli's shield plays an important role in the domain? Yeah, he felt like a god at that time. Even got his c2 on his rerun. Sanemi just really like zhongli because it kinda reminds him of himejima. Calm and wise and strong too. He looks up on that kind of person

"Zhongli sama, im in debt for all of your hard work protecting my team," bows and wipes tears

Type of player :

Spends a little money on the game to get what he wants

Zhongli main

Is that one player that has hoards of food but doesnt even use it

"Why need healer when you have zhongli's shield,"

Compare to kyojuro, he doesnt even touch the teapot because he finds it ridiculous and bothersome to create and design everything in it

Loves one shotting bosses and compares it to giyuu. He ask for advices from obanai regarding team build supports and stuffs

Doesnt do character's story quest. The key is full every single time. He unlocks it but leaves the quest like that.

"Ah shit, i accidentally activate the quest,"

His friend list only has obanai in it. Whenever people sent him friend request, he wouldnt hesitate, more like wouldnt care to accept it

They either have to coop in obanai's world or his world and after that, unfriend immediately

Says thank you after coop because he has manners and then completely disappears

"Zhongli main forever,"

Tengen : played since 1.0 this madlad has been staying loyal to the game ever since. Quite huge amount of money he spend on this game to be honest but he never gets broke by it. You can see his regular donation to the game by purchasing welkin and battle pass and some genesis crystal too. He's loaded with money, he didnt know what to do with it.

Uzui also plays honkai impact and guns girl Z so when he saw the unknown god at the intro , he was not surprised.

"Oh we have to pick between the siblings? Cool cool co- oh hi kiana,"

"Thats so herrscher of void hahahahah,"

Although he is a loyal fan to MihoYo games, he lost his composure when he saw the 1st genshin anniversary reward because what was that. Imagine getting billions of money and they give us this? Tengen cant believe this shit

"Oh god wtf was that reward, i have to draw to get a welkin and some primos?? aND I ALSO HAVE TO BE LUCKY? WHAT-"

"WHERE'S MY FREE MONA,"

In need of mona. He needs mona so bad he literally spent his money on standard banner to get mona but always ends up with qiqi. Not that he's complaining but he just wants the astrologist to complete the support team

"GOD QIQI YOU AGAIN? WTF WFF WTF-" converts genesis crystal to primigems

"Tengen, you should control yourself!"

"SHUT UP KYOJURO, IM GONNA WASTE MY MONEY TILL I GET HER,"

"yeah but my f2p ass is hurting with how many bennett cons you got," droops

Tengen sees potential in every character. Everyone has their weakness and strength so when kokomi comes out, he diss her at first but then realize maybe its a new way for a character. Adds the uniqueness if he may say so.

"Meh i dont care honestly. You guys should pull whoever you find nice or beautiful. Like me ;)"

"Who do you main uzui?"

"Beidou,"

Type of player

Spoils the storylines, lores, leaks A LOT THE REST HAVE TO BLOCK HIM ON SOCIAL MEDIA

Speed runs the game and has become an endgame player ever since but he still does his daily commission and helps people with domains and stuffs

R5 every battle pass weapon

Fights azhdaha for fun and to test out his characters rather than ruin guards and stuff

Mona wanter

Puts traveller as the pfp and doesnt display any showcase of his characters and namecards. You can only see his achievements and spiral abyss ( 12-3 ). Says its for fun and mystery

Throws a lot of pickup lines and roleplays a lot. Spams your chatbox messages with stickers and censored stuffs

Probably steals your ores and exotic things like violetgrass, qingxin and silk flowers

Screams in the chatbox whenever he saw Mona until Kyojuro had to calm him down

Changes signature every single time and sometimes put spoilers in it

In every survey he would complain "MihoYo where the fuck is my Mona,"

Doesnt heals his characters

[whentheynameyoujoy]

So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

[rattlerinthewheel]

Goin’ Soft

Another thing from my sharingan!Daryl writings. Includes Greenes and some byakugan.

- - -

The Greenes were something. Daryl didn’t quite know what to make of them, mostly because he’d never met folk with byakugan before, had only gotten second-hand tall tales. Bedtime stories from Mom, less story and more recounting from days gone when there was a lot more of everything (undeveloped land to hunt on, game to hunt, food to go around, eyes that could do more than just look and play mind games). Slurs from the old man, a racist at heart; slurs and ramblings both from Merle, running into all manner of folk in the marines.

Daryl knew better than to trust his folk about certain things. Mom had liked to think about days long past, enough that she hadn’t seen the fire right in front of her when it killed her. The old man was a nasty waste long gone now, didn’t know nothing where it counted.

And Merle was Merle—and that was enough for Daryl not to take his word as gospel.

Still, it unnerved him that the Greenes were so opposite from what he’d expected. They were kind, for one thing, and the farmhouse—gone, up in flames now—hadn’t been lavish. Clean, but not spotless. The food had been humbling, dirt cheap because it came from the dirt outside their door or the simple grocery store or farmer’s market. Fanciest food they’d ever eaten was probably dessert or pickled, maybe something Hershel’s eldest brought back from college.

Maybe that they weren’t pure had something to do with it. Hershel’s first wife hadn’t had anything special about her eyes; it was obvious in their first girl, blue-eyed and brown-haired and without a lick of anything more obvious at first glance (she had brains she put to use, eyes that weren’t the near-perfect field of the byakugan but still a damn sight better than normal when the blue washed temporary white). Hershel’s second wife had clearly had the eyes to match the vet, because the younger girl had only eyes white as the moon.

They were taking to the new world better, now that the farm was gone. Not that the whole thing burning down was good—not that they’d have gotten far living there that much longer—but it didn’t give them any baggage either, mental or real. Were leaving behind ash and crisps, not the home they’d grown up in.

They rolled up their sleeves and scavenged for supplies and got fires going. They pitched tents, threading the barest line of chakra through the poles so they could see through the nylon; a neat trick, especially useful if they were unfortunate enough to set up camp later in the day. Hershel and Maggie, his eldest, picked up watches, more useful than anyone else with the power to see well past the fire’s reach. Most of the time they sat, hands in their laps or idle; grabbing a gun or knife was more telling than a warning.

The youngest wasn’t allowed, a kid and not, older than Carl but not grown. Beth offered, but the rest of the group declined. Too young, too fragile, Daryl guessed they thought her. He picked up on her fussing, her huffs when she was turned down, her wilting shoulders, and knew she’d do something stupid to prove herself eventually.

Didn’t matter your blood, your tricks—everyone with something to prove usually tried.

- - -

Daryl knew she would follow him soon as he left camp. He ignored her chakra—unruly and immature, shaking when she tripped, flaring in panic whenever he stopped to check tracks thinking she’d been caught (she was, just didn’t know it yet)—in favor of trying to catch their dinner for the night. Something to go with the canned goods they lucked out on from that overturned semi.

He was maybe a mile out when Daryl decided he’d had enough of playing pretend. They were far out enough that she couldn’t act like she wasn’t following him, but not too far that he if made her go back he’d worry about her getting lost on the way.

Girl was sheltered, obviously, but had to know her way around her own eyes, could see far enough in every direction to figure it out.

Well, he could find that out now, couldn’t he?

A trick of his own he’d kept to himself till now, because girls liked to chat and Beth would probably tell someone, he shouldered his crossbow and pulled the strap snug, worked chakra into his hands and feet, and clambered up the bark of a nice fat tree. He huddled with his knees drawn to his chest on a branch too sturdy to waver. He’d see how hopeless the girl really was—no way she wouldn’t be able to see him here. He wouldn’t even bother with a mediocre genjutsu to hide himself.

A few moments of stillness crumpled into stumbling and huffing that sounded like the dead, and would have had a bolt or kunai primed to sink into their eye had Daryl not known what was coming through the trees.

Stupid kid, Daryl realized when he caught sight of her, and had to blink back the ebb of chakra that wanted to spring his sharingan to life in an angry, downright livid pulse. Her byakugan wasn’t even out.

Beth did wake it once she realized she wasn’t tripping after him anymore. From his perch Daryl watched the veins snake around her face, her concentration taking over the rest of her as she went completely still. It occurred to Daryl that if she needed to concentrate this much on her eyes, that she couldn’t move at all, she likely hadn’t been using them when she’d been following. Christ, she was going to get herself killed.

She was right under his branch, nearly, and that forced Daryl to keep at bay another angry surge to his eyes. She couldn’t even sense him. She hadn’t seen him right over her. He could probably drop down right behind her, not even in her crevice of a blind spot, and she still wouldn’t.

Fuckin’ unbelievable.

Daryl rose on his branch, just enough to move. He fed chakra into his feet and fell forward, extra to reach through his boots, sticking to the bark by his soles to hang upside down right behind her. Beth didn’t even startle, just went right on glaring ahead. Daryl thought briefly about letting his sharingan loose, just to scare her good, then figured she’d scare bad enough once she turned around and found him. Not like he was known for being welcoming and warm on his own.

It didn’t take long. Beth wilted, and he caught the veins on the side of her head relax. Daryl didn’t doubt it was less out of defeat and more she just plain lacked the endurance. She turned, probably thinking to make her way back to camp, and promptly tripped back on her ass when she damn near walked into him.

Daryl drowned out her wail with a barely contained, “The hell you doin’ out here, girl?”

He let her get to her feet on her own (could do something for herself for once) while he unstuck himself from the tree, twisted in the air, and landed on his feet. He grimaced at the shock that rolled up his spine—too old for that shit now—and easily dropped it into a glare as Beth whacked dirt off her jeans and scowled up at him.

“I thought you needed an extra set of eyes.”

Good Lord, she was serious.

“Ya couldn’t even see me,” he seethed. “Couldn’t even sense me. Hell you got those eyes for if you can’t use ‘em?”

“I can use ‘em just fine! Daddy taught me the basics.”

Of course, when they didn’t have to worry about the dead up and walking. Daryl doubted the old man had let her step foot off the property since martial law dissolved into chaos. Hell, out of the house.

“Your daddy teach you not to go following strangers in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse?”

“You ain’t a stranger, Daryl,” she scoffed, and if it wasn’t for the tilt of her head to go with Daryl probably would’ve missed entirely the roll of her eyes. Not like her irises and pupils were easy to see.

He needed a minute to breathe, so he turned on his heels and put some distance between them. Good Lord, teenagers.

“I can take care a’ myself.”

Daryl growled then, swore and spit, and whirled. He stalked right up to her, letting his sharingan come out at last. Chakra fumed with his anger. Beth flinched back, had probably never seen one up close but sure as shit knew what it meant. Good.

The veins in her face twitched but didn’t have the energy to stick around. Not that it was useful against him. Unless she knew how to fuck with his chakra points, which he doubted—and that made him even madder. Girl couldn’t see, didn’t even know how to defend herself.

She couldn’t handle being looked at like that, clearly. “I just... wanted to help...”

“Whip ‘em out then,” Daryl ordered. He didn’t dare tip chakra into his words. He doubted she knew how to break out of a genjutsu, had even experienced one. That was more bullshit he didn’t want to deal with.

“Well... I—”

“Said ta show ‘em, girl,” he rumbled, drawing himself up so he could look down at her even more than he already was.

Beth tried, at least. She stilled, like she had when he’d been watching from the tree. But no veins rose up around her eyes, she didn’t look like she was seeing the world any different, any better. Finally she quit trying, doubling over like she’d run a mile, panting. Daryl watched the excess chakra slink away from her eyes, and blinked his own blue again—hard to do, his anger wanting them to stay.

“Yer an idiot,” Daryl snorted. “And we’re going back. Can tell everybody why we don’t got dinner.”

Girl went quiet at that, thank fuck, and Daryl led the way back. They had dinner, just nothing freshly killed; Daryl happily let her take the blame for why they were only eating lukewarm beans.

- - -

Contrary to Beth’s complaints, she could be grounded, even during the end of the world. Good. Daryl didn’t need to worry about her following him again when he went out. He did have a limit to what he could do, he might have good eyes but he wasn’t all-seeing. All it took was one run-in with the dead and the girl was gone.

Carol took his plate from him after dinner. She was keen when it came to folks (he didn’t like to think it came from survival before the world ended) and noticed the youngest Greene had looked jittery when she passed him his fixed plate. Worried he’d chew her out for not enough beets, maybe, or just for being in his presence.

Maybe he’d been too loud with her.

“She just wants to help, you know,” Carol told him when he wrestled the plate back, took half the stack she’d collected from the rest.

“Wants to get bit,” he grunted as they walked over to the wash basin in the back of one of the trunks.

“Did it ever cross your mind," Carol suggested, tone just shy of wry but enough to let Daryl know he’d be doing what she asked anyway, "that helping her might keep her safe?”

His excuse came quick: “Don’t got the same eyes.”

It wasn’t even an excuse; just because they happened to have a hell of an upgrade if they fed chakra to their skulls, didn’t mean it worked the same. Training, especially, which was what the girl needed most. Even if the training was the same, no fucking way he’d do it. The three tomoe Daryl had earned over the years, none of them gotten lightly, came at a price. He didn’t know how to coax progress that wasn’t hollering or worse.

“You don’t just use your eyes, do you?” Carol asked, and he was stuck there—the pointed look she threw at his kunai wasn’t needed.

Two weeks later, when he was sure Beth’s grounding was long behind her, he made sure to take watch with Hershel. With both of them keeping an eye out (on chakra for what was living, shambling husks for what wasn’t) on top of the hill they’d set up camp beneath, the group couldn’t be safer.

“I’d hoped my Bethie wouldn’t need to know certain things,” he started before Daryl could. “But I’d be a fool to hold on to that hope. Especially when it’s obvious she’s taken to... exploring.”

“She couldn’t walk and see at the same time,” Daryl pointed out, careful not to sound accusing. Families with doujutsu had customs, manners, and they varied between ability and family. He didn’t want to be stepping on toes if this was something the girl ought to be able to do but couldn’t. Shame was a hell of a thing. So was wanting to cull weak links, though he had the feeling Hershel wasn’t like that.

“Her mother had good eyes. Strong eyes. But,” Hershel said, “she came from a family that valued, over all else, strength. What her mother had was trained for, not a birthright, and she made me promise we wouldn’t put that on Beth.”

Hershel swung his head west, then. Daryl couldn’t see it, not yet, but pulled his kunai anyway. There was something to using it, a feeling that felt right more than using any gun. Daryl felt it when he used his bow, but more when he used this. Maybe it was the quiet. Maybe he was just old-fashioned. Maybe because, like his arrows, they were easy to make (wooden ones, at least) and being able to make more of something that could help put food on the table was invaluable.

Or maybe because the set he had now was a gift, one of the very few he’d gotten in his miserable life.

Daryl never quite got over how wrong the walkers felt. Empty, no streams of chakra flowing, coursing, or even stuttering. Anything would’ve made them easier to be around—not that he planned on sticking around the dead for long.

Long enough to put them down, like now.

The walker, torn dress pulled down by the mud, shoeless, hair a nest, went down like her strings had been cut. Daryl picked his way down the hill, pulled the kunai from her eye, and wiped it clean on his thigh. Hershel was looking past him, veins bulging, when Daryl hiked back up, but he didn’t gesture for Daryl to ready another throw.

They were quiet for a while. Daryl liked that about taking watch with Hershel. Then, out of the blue:

“She looked like her.”

Daryl didn’t need to ask what he’d meant; he’d been thinking it too, had hoped Hershel wasn’t. But the man was smart, had a brain to match those eyes.

“Don’t gotta end up that way,” Daryl shrugged, quiet. Promises were dangerous, but so was the rest of the world.

Goin’ soft, that Merle-like voice that liked to come around, every now and then, taunted.

Yeah, well, fuck ‘em.

[inactiive-shit]

Burning

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Warnings: allusions to rough past

Pairing: platonic dukexiety

Words: 1,988

Summary: Virgil needs a goddamn hug.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil came from a rough and tumble kind of place. There wasn’t much physical contact with each other and what there was usually wasn’t affectionate. Virgil was used to not being touched or being hurt with almost no in-between. Hugs were rarer than a blue moon and cuddling? It’s safe to say that was an entirely alien concept.

But Virgil’s twenty-six now. He’s had plenty of time to outgrow his aversion to touch, plenty of time to get over it, plenty of time to make friends that wouldn’t punch him before they patted his shoulder. And, well, he had. Sort of.

Enter Patton and Roman, who were soft and kind and the touchiest of touchy-feely people that Virgil had ever met. They were always trying to dispense hugs and pleased smiles and pats and gifts and, if Virgil were being honest, he could not even imagine either of them throwing a punch. Then, enter Logan. He wasn’t the same kind of overbearingly physical person. He rarely initiated hugs, although he equally rarely turned them down when they were offered. He was much more reserved than Virgil’s other friends, much more like Virgil, and Virgil could imagine Logan getting into a scrape or two.

But nobody touched Virgil. That was by Virgil’s own design, had nothing to do with any particular feelings he held about his three friends. Hugs were just...a lot. And especially for someone with as little experience with them as Virgil had. He’d tried to explain it once, tried to put into words the expectations he had whenever someone moved toward him. He tried to make them understand that it wasn’t them, it was just that Virgil was used to a different kind of living where hugs had never been the norm. But Patton had looked ready to cry and Roman was affronted and even Logan, Logan who wanted almost just as much alone time as Virgil, had looked horrified. How was it possible, they wanted to know, that Virgil had gone so long without being treated with care?

He hated to see those looks on the others’ faces, hated a fraction more the looks they sent at him after that were barely to the left of pitying, so he took it back as best he could. It really hadn’t been that bad, don’t worry about it, all the usual phrases and eventually he persuaded them to drop it. So they stopped trying to touch Virgil all that much, and Virgil convinced himself that he wasn’t jealous of the casual affection they threw around like confetti. Virgil did his best to pretend his feigned indifference was real, and that he didn’t want touch just as much as he loathed the thought of it.

And then, one day, he met someone new. This person was a lot like him, rough around the edges like a ripped newspaper, but soft enough that he wouldn’t cut your fingers. He showed affection by punching others’ shoulders or throwing himself full-body on top of them. He wore the most ridiculous outfits that Virgil had ever seen, and he never seemed to care that he was the weirdest person in the room.

His name was Remus. He was Roman’s twin brother, although the similarities between them were almost impossible to find. He had a white streak in his hair that he denied ever putting there himself and, truthfully, nobody had ever seen it happen. He had no qualms about treating Virgil just the same as he treated every other person he came into contact with, and that’s about the time Virgil really started to realize he had a problem.

His skin burned whenever anyone touched it and he could feel an imprint of them on him long after they had left. There was an ache in his chest when he thought about getting a hug and despite having as many good, caring friends as he had now, Virgil felt more lonely than ever.

Remus, despite Roman’s misgivings about his brother, ended becoming an integral part of their group, and he continued to unknowingly supply Virgil with physical contact at their every interaction. It was equally wanted and unwanted, equally loved and hated, and Virgil kept coming back for more. And as much as the ache in Virgil’s chest intensified, as much as the burning on his skin kept him awake at night, Virgil never said a word about it to anyone.

Touch starved. It didn’t sound real, like something that could actually affect people. More than that, though, it was embarrassing. How could he even broach the subject? Hey, guys. So there’s this thing I found out about called touch starvation and it turns out I have it. And I could really use some pats on the back right about now, I swear I’m not making this up for attention. Yeah, that would go over great. Instead, Virgil took whatever he got when he bumped against a stranger on accident and mind his own business.

It was working out for him as well as you’d expect when something he had never planned on happened. He’d been having a panic attack, an occurrence that had been more common than Virgil liked, and he’d been entirely content to suffer through on his own and pretend everything was fine after, but then Remus walked into the room like a wrecking ball, all loud noises and erratic movement, and Virgil flinched. He flinched and tried not to cry because crying was the best way to make someone mad at you and also maybe the best way to expose yourself.

Remus, though? He stopped being loud and bouncing and sat down slowly in front of Virgil. Virgil couldn’t seem him too clearly through the tears in his eyes, but Remus might have been concerned. There was some movement, like he might have been talking, but Virgil could hear the static in his head and nothing else, could hear impending doom and forever alone like a war drum coming at him, could feel the vibrations running through his hands and shaking his very bones.

Suddenly, clear as day, he could hear Remus’s voice like a bell ringing, “Can I hug you?” Virgil gasped and hesitated. A hug? Would a hug just make things worse? It always seemed to but maybe not, can things even get worse from here? He nodded and Remus’s arms wrapped around him and held him so securely it almost felt like there were eight limbs keeping him safe.

The static changed frequency, changed color, changed channels and instead of the cold, impersonal, overwhelming static in his head like before it turned warm and encompassing but not altogether bad. Virgil choked on a sob and buried his face in Remus’s shoulder, shuddering, trying to figure out why he wanted to keep burning like this.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Remus said. “I’ll skin whatever hurt you.” He kept a tight hold on Virgil, kept holding him until he stopped crying and pulled away. Virgil wiped his face off with a sleeve, thoroughly embarrassed. That was unnecessary and stupid and he really should be in better control of himself so that things like that didn’t happen.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sniffling.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Stormcloud. Are you hurt?” Virgil shook his head, unable to force himself to make eye contact with Remus after such an episode. Remus’s hand ghosted over Virgil’s cheek and he flinched away, feeling the streak of a burn where their skin had barely come into contact. Remus withdrew his hand quickly. Virgil was almost sad to see it go.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I just have panic attacks sometimes,” Virgil said, and that was true enough. In fact, he couldn’t even remember what the catalyst for this attack had been or if there was something he needed to go do now that he was back to functional. Virgil was totally spent and more than ready for a nap.

“Yikes,” said Remus. There was a few minutes of silence while Virgil swiped the last of the tears from his face and destroyed his eyeliner and steadied his breathing so that he wouldn’t be a total mess when he finally left whatever room his panic had holed him up in. What he wanted to do more than anything right then was gather himself, make his excuses, and go back to his own room where he could hold onto his body pillow and bury himself in enough blankets that it felt like another person was laying on top of him.

“Are you touch starved?” Remus asked, voice sudden and surprising and observational skills much better than Virgil had anticipated they would be. He jolted, glancing quickly to Remus’s face before looking away and fighting the urge to cower behind his hands. “You flinch whenever anybody reaches toward you and I’ve never seen anyone touch you and you’re freezing. Do you need another hug?”

“No,” Virgil said, shrinking away from the prospect. He was still burning like a star ready to implode but more than that no one was supposed to know because it was Virgil’s problem to figure out, Virgil’s issue to work out without having to involve other people like this.

“No to which?” Remus asked, but then he gently laid his hand on the ground between them, palm up, and hummed. “We can just hold hands if you want.” Hesitantly, Virgil reached out and took Remus’s hand. It was rough and warm and alive and human. Virgil felt a shiver run through his body at the contact but he forced himself to keep it. If Remus was offering, if Remus understood the situation, then as awkward as Virgil felt, this was okay. There was nothing wrong with this and Virgil...Virgil really didn’t think Remus was going to hurt him.

“How did you know?” Virgil whispered, voice cracking over the syllables. He might cry again if they weren’t careful.

“Been there, done that,” Remus said, squeezing Virgil’s hand. “Everything kinda sucks though, so I made myself start touching other people and then they started touching me back. Not great at it all the time, but,” he shrugged, “I’m not so cold anymore.” Virgil couldn’t look at him, couldn’t face whatever was happening right now, so he sat quietly and did his best to take it in. God knew when the next time he’d get something like this would be.

“If you want,” Remus said slowly, “I could help you. We could hold hands and slowly work up to bigger things like hugs until you’re not so skin-hungry anymore.” Virgil internally winced at the term, but externally he was finally looking at Remus, staring in total shock that he would offer something like that.

“Why?” Virgil blurted, confusion swirling and making him feel almost nauseous.

“Because you’re my friend,” Remus said, and he sounded just as confused as Virgil felt. “And I love you. And I may or may not have developed a squish on you. I want to help because I care.” He smiled slightly, and to Virgil it looked kind of sad but not in a way that made him feel bad.

“I...I…” Virgil didn’t know what to say, how to say yes to what Remus was offering or how to make sense of it all in his head.

“It’s okay,” Remus said, running his thumb over the back of Virgil’s hand and causing an involuntary shiver. “We can talk about it later. For now let’s just hang out. Do you want me to talk?” Virgil nodded, figuring that at least with some kind of non-touch stimulation he might be able to refocus. Remus started talking about something, Virgil couldn’t recall what later, and Virgil realized that maybe tackling this with Remus wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe he didn’t have to suffer through on his own like he thought.

Maybe, just maybe, Virgil could finally stop burning.

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

10. Bathroom wall (Part Three) a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova

In the previous parts: The bunch spends a free evening in a bar, where local girls are trying to get closer to the band members. Dave suggests Jeff that he should make Judy jealous but she’s too busy with being outraged about a girl named Claudia dancing with Stone. Finally, Claudia backs down; after a fight with Stone, Judy reveals to Karrie, that her made-up stories about Stone had to do something with her reaction. In the meantime, Mike is feeling sick and refuses Karrie’s advice to take his health issues more seriously. She also shows him pictures of Effie but Mike’s evening ends with a surprising twist. Judy tries to calm down with the help a relaxing shower but she gets unexpected company in the common bathroom… 

@shadowsonoureyes I think I almost completed your drabble challenge 😉

“I got a lion in my pocket and baby he's ready to roar…”

God, I wish this was only a nightmare and I woke up suddenly realizing nothing of this madness has happened actually, maybe I could even laugh at the whole setting. But now, laughing is the last thing I feel like doing, I’ve been standing here since who knows when, I’m freezing, I wanna finish my shower, I wanna dry myself, I wanna get out of here… this with the lots of “wannas” sounds like some random lyrics of The Ramones… But as things stand at the moment, I’ll grow old and die here because this skinny hippo has been splashing beyond the wall for at least fifteen minutes, performing the longest and most inconsistent mix of Prince songs ever, deliberately altering the lyrics, changing the range of lines or even skipping some of them whereas repeating other ones infinitely like a broken record player.

“You got the horn so why don't you blow it…”

Actually, I’ve even started playing with the idea of turning the water on again, maybe this capybara enjoys listening to his own voice enough not even to hear it. But no, that’d be too risky. But I could definitely get rid of the shower gel bottle to be able to rub along my body against cold, I’ve been squeezing that little plastic flask at full strength since he entered here, as if it could help me become invisible. I slowly stoop to place it on the ground in the corner feeling like a compromised spy who’s ordered to put her weapon down without making any suspicious or ambiguous move; but due to the slippery surface under my soles I lose my balance and as I catch towards the wall to prevent myself from falling I drop it… and it lands with a loud crash in the metal shower tray. Fuuuuck… I freeze immediately and perk up my ears holding my breath trying to figure out if he heard it too… of course he heard it, it was as ear-splitting as a rocket launch but maybe he was too distracted and…

“Is somewhere there? Who’s that?”

He heard it…

“Who’s that? Scully? Is that you? Don’t be so shy, we’ve known each other for ages, I’ll even wash your back if you need help…”

Okay, Judy, you can’t hide any longer, you have to find out something, anything… what if I just ran out with a battle cry and grabbed my towel and… okay, maybe something more discreet would be more adequate.

“Scully? I’m coming over…”

“NO!!!” I scream.” It’s not Scully… it’s me… Judy…” I manage to reveal my identity only for the third attempt since my voice won’t obey and insists on sounding comically high-pitched. “And thanks but I’d skip the offer, I can reach my back.” Jesus, I don’t know why I’m babbling this, it’s like…

“Oh… I didn’t know it was you. Actually, I thought I was alone, you were so silent… I couldn’t even hear the water running at you…”

“Because… because… it wasn’t running since… it’s a part of my shower routine, I begin it with hot water then I turn it off and stand a few minutes until I start feeling I’m freezing, this method works wonders on the blood circulation…” I basically yell the end of my bullshit excuse since I turned the water on in the meantime to finally put an end to this awkward situation. Unfortunately, when I turn it off, I can hear he’s still humming, seriously, how much time does he need to dry his balls?

“Anyway… you were right.” he speaks up out of the blue.

I was right? Meaning what? You’re a pervert? You’re a bitch who would bang everything that moves?

“The acoustics in this room are truly excellent.”

You don’t say…

‘I’m flattered by the fact that once in a blue moon you are willing to agree with me. And, uhm, I’m ready with my shower and as you’ve probably already noticed, my towel is hanging on the wall on the other side so… so I’d feel honored if you left…”

“If I left?”

Yes, I mean get the fuck out you pig, you heard it well.

“Why would I leave? I want to enjoy these fascinating circumstances a little bit longer…“

I should have known this wouldn’t be easy, this must be like a dream come true for him: holding me hostage, taking advantage of my miserable situation…

“But seriously, just listen: I really get a dirty mind whenever you're around… Awesome!”

I roll my eyes so hard that I can see my own frontal lobe… Being forced to listen to Stone’s falsetto serenade while being butt naked, fuck, I didn't know what I was missing in my life until now.

“What do you want? Should I sing a fuckin’ duet with you for my freedom?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually… what about Together Forever by Rick Astley?” I hear him snapping with his fingers and giggling at his brilliant idea.

“Well, the performance of Under Pressure would sound more honest from my mouth right now…”

“You’re just so negative, nothing can please you today seemingly. But as a sign of my generosity, I’m ready to give you that towel.”

How can a voice be so irritating? This nasal tone with the mannered Northwestern accent makes sound everything what he says extremely annoying, I could punch him even for citing the headlines of a newspaper.

“Ha-ha, very funny, Gossard. But let’s skip your cheap tricks and move your aaa…self out of here.”

“Cheap tricks? I don’t think there’d be anything interesting to see here, plus, you’re forgetting about a very important factor: I’m out here wearing a towel whereas you are in there wearing nothing so it is me who makes the rules. But, again, I’m a genuine guy so I give your towel to you, all you have to do is to ask me.” the pain in the ass goes on with his rant.

“Okay. GIVE ME THAT FUCKIN’ TOWEL!” I scream angrily stomping of helplessness.

“Why do you have to be so rude? You’re hurting my sensitive soul all the time; if you want me to cooperate, you have to be kind and ask me nicely.”

Once I get out of here, I’m going to fuckin’ kill you, I swear, I’m going to kill you ten times, I’m going to kill your reincarnated bodies too even if you will be reborn as a cute kitten or a baby giraffe…

“GIVE ME THAT FUCKIN’ TOWEL! Please?” I yell again and append a fake, cheesy appeal to my words.

“You see? It sounds immediately completely different.” he snickers satisfied.

“Okay, but we have to clear the logistics first. I think the least awkward way would be you standing facing the door, handing the towel backwards to me and I would reach out for it and…”

“Do you really think I wanna peep?” he asks with amused smugness in his voice.

I do? I don’t? Shit, there’s no right answer to this question, I mean, I’m not interested in him at all, I don’t care what he might think about my look, my body, I don’t even know whether he would think anything at all or he’d just act neutrally like I wasn’t a woman or human at all but fuck, I’m a human, I’m a woman, I could be the possible subject of a guy’s interest too and when I mean “a guy” I don’t think necessarily about him although he’s a guy too…

“I don’t give shit about what you want, what I want is to minimize the level of my retinal damage by not seeing your face, so please do me a favor, turn away from me and give me that goddamn towel.”

By the time I’ve finished the sentence, a pale body with something bright blue at waist-level appears on my horizon with funny side-sliding steps. He’s standing with his back to me, as far as I can judge it even without my glasses, my assumption is only based on the dark trail of his hair on his back. Or he’s an aberrant psychopath who covered his face with his hair to deceive me. He pulls my towel off the wall… okay, that means he’s truly facing the opposite wall unless his shoulders are especially flexible… damn, he reaches it backwards to me lifting his arm to the same height… I’m still not sure about his exact posture…

I slowly walk to the edge of the shower tray, hesitating for a few seconds which one of my body parts I should keep covered before reaching out for it. With a deep sigh, I opt for my breasts and try to grab my towel but there’s still almost a one-yard distance between our hands.

“Stone… you’re too far… could you come closer?” I moan in agony.

“Interesting… until now, you wanted me to go away and now you’re asking me the opposite. Or you’re just trying to trick me into touching you and then get me arrested for sexual assault… no, Camden, I don’t buy it. Anyway, walking backwards is dangerous, what if stumble and fall and break my neck? It’d be safer if you came out of your hiding place, you can’t spend the rest of your life there when I’m gone, I don’t care…”

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this but I obviously have no choice… I approach him with sneaking steps while terrible thoughts are chasing each other in my mind… What if he can rotate his head 180 degrees like owls? What if he’s got extraordinary eyes like chameleons and due to his particularly developed peripheral vision he can see basically everything around him?

As I finally touch the terry cloth fabric, I immediately tear the towel out of his hand and wrap it around myself. His arm swings automatically back to his body as if it was pulled by a spring and while I pull back into my shelter to dry all my body parts, he keeps standing at attention on the same spot.

“Ahem… I’m ready so… you can go…” I make an attempt to get rid of him.

“You’re not a quick learner… and you’re pretty ungrateful… I haven’t heard the magic word yet.”

I can’t believe this. And I can be grateful to him for not humiliating me even more…

“Thanks…” I mumble.

“I didn’t understand it… it’s strange, the acoustics in that corner must be different, it absorbs sound waves…”

“Thank you, Stone Almighty Gossard, nothing could express my eternal gratitude, you’re my savior, I’d be nothing without you, from now on, I’m your slave!!!” I shout paying special attention to my articulation.

“Could you hear the echoes too? Much better.” he clicks with his tongue satisfied and disappears from my sight with the same hilarious moves he made earlier. “Good night, Judith, and if you happen to have erotic dreams this night, please keep them for yourself, I’d feel embarrassed if you told me about it…” he adds and as I open my mouth for some snarky retort, I hear the door slamming.

Finally. This… prick is just unbelievable, after his performance at the bar he thinks he did me a favor by not behaving a like a perv? And erotic dreams? Come on, I’d rather puked myself to death of his sight.

I have to use the awkward choreography I invented earlier to get back to my stuff I left on the chair, although I myself don’t really understand either, why, I’m alone after all... As I lean down for my glasses, my fingers reach out for… nothing. They’re gone! I grope the whole chair along… still nothing! I put down the shower gel bottle and try to crouch down to check the floor under the chair, which is not easy to do at all without exposing my intimate body parts. I keep adjusting the towel with my left hand while I try to scan trough every inch of this goddamn place with the other one and I’m about to drop the freakin’ towel when I hear a weird noise from behind my back. Snorts… silent snorts… like someone was suppressing laughter… oh shit. That moron, that son of a bitch… he’s Satan, I told it.

I straighten up as fast as I can, I can only hope he didn’t see my backside or my nipples or… why can’t I die here and now without more suffering?

As far as I can see him without my spectacles, he’s leaning against the sink and checking me out with folded arms.

“Taking away my glasses? That’s the most creative idea you could find out? Seriously, where are we, in third grade maybe?” I attack him but in the meantime I realize I should calm down, seeing me being upset is probably his favorite entertainment. “Okay, Gossard, go ahead. I don’t know why you crafted this vicious plan with trapping me here, taking away my glasses, stalking me… let’s get over with it, whatever you want…” I shrug resigned.

“Firstly, I didn’t know you were here, I just came in since I have the right to have a shower too. Secondly, I have nothing to say to you, it is you who should talk.”

“Me? Do you think I want to have a chit-chat with you here and now? Are you completely nuts? Just give back my glasses and get out of here!”

“Well, that has a price.” he answers irritatingly slowly, I can hear clearly he’s grinning.

“Is this a blackmail?” I scream outraged.

“Why do you have to use always such tough words? It’s a… mutually beneficial offer. You want your glasses whereas you also owe me an apology and I’m ready to accept it.” he explains with fake generosity.

“I’m not gonna beg you, you idiot.” I hiss between my teeth and grab towards his hands but I’m not fast enough to catch him off guard. He raises his arm high before I could get my property back and smiles down at me with a smug expression.

Does he want me to bounce like a puppy? Well, I won’t. Actually, the only possible weapon that comes to mind is as childish as his stupid little trick but the end justifies the means… But I have to be quick since my one hand is busy with keeping the towel around my body and I don’t want to grope him for too long time either. But he didn’t leave me any other choice, unfortunately.

“Fine, Stoney…” I pretend giving in. “You’re right. So listen to me carefully because you’re not going to hear this from me too often…”

“I’m all ears.” he spreads out his free arm.

Piece of cake.

“Sooo…” I approach him cautiously “Stoney, I just want to say… TICKLE ATTACK!!!” I yell and poke my fingers between his ribs.

The effect is beyond expression. He immediately doubles over letting out a wide range of animal sounds and it only takes a few seconds to tear out my spectacles of his hand maintaining the offensive with my other hand.

“Ha, victory!”I yell chuckling at his convulsion but as I hear a weird noise over his whining, I immediately stiffen. “What was that?”

“What’s… what?” he asks still groaning.

“Didn’t you hear that? I think someone slammed the door…” I stutter as I place my glasses on my nose. “And that means someone had opened it before… and maybe saw us…”

“Bullshit. And even if it happened as you think, all that could be seen was you committing sexual harassment on me so…” he smirks sassily leaning back against the sink.

What an obnoxious asshole. And he’s also wearing flip-flops, which I’ve always hated on men, seriously, I could slap him with them…

“Sexual harassment? I would rather jump on a male tapir than engaging into an erotic intermezzo with you!” I tuck my hair nervously behind my ear.

“You and a tapir? I wish I could see the offsprings…” he keeps grinning and flips his wet hair back… actually, it’s surprising, usually, he’s not a big hair washer. A tiny waterdrop is swinging on the end of one of the dark strands that are wavier than usual, this must be their natural state… then the drop slowly falls on his shoulder and follows the line of his collarbone, changing direction at his neck only to gain momentum and now it’s pulling a trail along his flat stomach and…

“Ahem…” he clears his throat “shall we go? Or do you want to examine my naked body for a while?”

“Let’s go” I start like I was waking up from a dream and I can feel my cheeks are burning for some mysterious reasons. “But you go first, I don’t want to make myself ridiculous in front of more people tonight.”

“Okay, okay…” he walks out with lazy reluctance. “All clear!” he shouts and I put my head out of the door to check he’s not trying to trick me again. How can he walk so leisurely, isn’t he bothered by the fact he’s almost naked? And why did he wrap that towel so tightly around his waist that it shows every curve of his…body parts…?

“Do you want to spend the night in there?” he suddenly turns back and I can only hope I managed to look away fast enough.

“No… no…I’m coming…” I mutter and follow him in duck walk, squeezing my toiletry bag.

He stops at his door and leans with one shoulder against the door jamb, of course he wouldn’t miss out my clumsy performance.

“Wow, gracious. You were born to the catwalk.” he giggles.

“Shut up or I scratch your eyes out!”

“Okay-okay but I hope we can agree that we’re even.” he waves an imaginary white flag.

“We are. And I say now good night before you happened to die under unclear circumstances.”

“Good night, Miss Hundred Pounds of Concentrated aggression.”

His audacious grin mellows into a boyish smile and I don’t know if I am only hallucinating or for a fragment of a second, he scans me from head to toe…

He pushes himself away from the wall and disappears in the dark room, leaving me frozen in the hallway. I stumble back to my room and I plop down on my bed. But what was that stare? He was probably just mocking me as usual, he’s surrounded by beautiful girls and he must find my dwarf body structure ridiculous. But he said we’re even… I stare at the toiletry bag on my lap, although I didn’t turn on the light, its pattern is clearly visible in the street lights filtering through the torn curtain. Musical notes, treble keys… wait. He claimed he didn’t know it was me in the shower. But who else in the bunch would have a bag with these motifs? He knew it was me. He knew it and he still came in. He wanted to humiliate me, it wasn’t just an embarrassing coincidence. Stone Gossard, we’re everything but even.

***

„These piggies are so cute.”

“Yes, they are totally adorable.” Layne agrees observing them with a tender smile. “Look at their mom, how patiently she’s bearing as they’re pestering her… geez, some of these little fuckers are pretty aggressive… look at that one!”

He points at a spotted piglet which is the greediest in the bunch; I don’t know much about domestic animals, I can only guess he’s a tiny boar. He’s tossing away all his siblings to get free access to his mther’s teats and even after he gets one of them, he keeps her poking with his power outlet-shaped nose. Well, moms are the most patient creatures on earth, I’m sure I’ve caused a lot of trouble to mine too…

“I wonder if we can stroke them, their hair seems to be so fluffy…”

“A bit later, now it’s mealtime. Their mother is very protective of them, she would bite your fingers off… I think she’s going to pass out in a few minutes, you can try to grab one of them while they’ll be playing around her.” the farmer-looking guy answers. He can’t be much older than us but he speaks in a slow, prudent manner, which makes him sound like a grandfather. He must be an employee of this place… whatever this place is…

“Effie would love them.” Layne remarks, still fascinated by the nursing process.

Effie? Layne knows Effie? Interesting.

“Is she here too?” I stutter confused.

“Of course, dude, you bought her here, remember?” Layne glances at me and raises one eyebrow.

“Really? And where is she know?” I scratch my chin still not understanding how she got in the picture.

“She stayed in the house. She was interested in the greenhouse and the gardener happened to be there, you couldn’t drag her away from the orchids. Seriously, Mike, are you stoned our what? You should take more care of your girlfriend if you want to take this thing between you seriously.”

Girlfriend? Effie is my girlfriend? Okay, that sounds strange too not that I want to complain…

“And… what’s that house you mentioned?”

“Shit… I’m not gonna help you out with weed ever again, this stuff has obviously terrible side effects on you, you’re like a drunk goldfish. Hey, Jer, tell to this asshole where we are!” he shouts at his approaching bandmate.

“Estamos a la hacienda Cantrell, hombre! This my ranch! And in a few hours, we’ll be eating the best food you’ve ever tried, Consuela is the most badass cook in the entire world! But we have the whole afternoon, I want to show you my new golf course, we could even play, I have tons of golf clubs, I can lend you one of them…”

Wait, something’s wrong here. I know they have their share of success because of this Seattle madness too, not that they don’t deserve it, they are a fuckin’ amazing band but I never knew Jerry had a ranch, I mean, it must have cost a buttload of money and however much I like him, I must admit he’s not that type who prefers savings to poker, dope and strippers.

“How… how long have you owned this… this huge farm?” I wave around clumsily trying not to sound too stupid.

“For like… ages…? Hahaha, man, I know my beautiful maids drive every man crazy, that was my point when casting them and choosing their uniform. But you can’t complain either, I checked the little blondie out, nice catch! That cola bottle-shaped body, damn…” the skirt-chaser underlines his words by drawing the mentioned contour in the air flashing a filthy grin. I don’t like this tone, I don’t like the idea of Jerry talking about Effie or looking at her, fuck, I don’t even like the idea of any member of Alice In Chains staying in the same state as her for more than three seconds.

“But first, we have to choose the dinner. Which one do you want?” the guitarist nods towards the pigpen and knowing his dirty humor, I’m not sure whether he refers to any food-related or he’s called hookers or what?

“How… how do you mean?”

“Mike, this is definitely not your day, just pick one!” Layne giggles glancing amused at his bandmate.

“But… what?” I still don’t get where this whole thing is going.

“Geez man, okay, I”ll do it for you. Come on, little dudes, it won’t hurt, I promise you!” Jerry leans over the fence and grabs two piglets by the skin around their neck.

“No, no, are you trying to say we’re gonna eat them? No, never, this is the cruelest thing I’ve ever heard, you can’t…” I protest shocked but the asshole doesn’t give a shit about me and carries the two victims under his arms to the pickup standing close to us. He ignores the desperate squeals of the poor little things: he throws them in the truck bed and climbs after them.

“Jerry, where are you going? You can’t… stop, don’t do that, man!” I yell almost crying but he just keeps laughing with that typical, pedophile Santa Claus laughter of him.

“What do you think, for what purpose do I breed them? They are cute and all but just think about a crispy, red, roasted pig spinning on a skewer over the fire… yummy… Consuela has a secret recipe, it’s delicious. I takes hours to prepare it, though, but I think I can keep myself busy until then, you know, that blondie is waiting only for me…” he winks and I catch to my stomach. Effie… Jerry… no, that can’t happen, I think I’m going to vomit, Jesus, this is terrible…

He pats the side of the truck bed twice, signaling to the driver that he can start the engine.

“Yes dude, until the pork gets ready, I’m gonna bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie…”

His words get mixed with the squealing of the piglets and the roar of the engine and the terrible sounds keep echoing in my head distorted by the Doppler-effect until the car disappears on the horizon.

“Bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie…”

…

I wake up with a start. My heart is beating so fast that it almost rips my chest, the blanket is soaking wet of my sweat, even my hair is stuck to my head and neck. This was the worst nightmare I’ve had in the past years… wait… if it was a dream, why can I still hear the snorts?

I slowly turn my head in the direction of the sound and suddenly, everything falls into place. The girl with whom I spent last night is snoring next to me… Her red lipstick and black eyeshadow is smeared all over her face making her look like a slutty panda bear and the little stream of drool in the corner of her mouth makes it even worse. Thus passes worldly glory… not that I have any right to criticize her look, I must look like crap too and honestly, I also feel like that. My head is about to explode, my intestines are burning… but I can only blame myself and that bottle of pure vodka we consumed last night together. At least the sex was satisfactory... yes, satisfactory is the best term, not more, not less. The beginning was creepy, though, with those weird outbursts of her about her nonsense prohibitions… I mean, who the hell wants to do stuff like that? Poor girl, she must have had hard sexual experiences. But that cowboy roleplay could have been even good with the hat and slight bondage elements and all… but her exaggerated behavior kept it in conditional. After all, we both got what we wanted and I don’t have to feel guilty. I didn’t force her, she offered, I just played along… it was basically her who fucked me. I don’t know if it had anything to do with me being the guitarist of Pearl Jam but even if it has, come on, is that really such a terrible crime if the “also ran” member of the band takes advantage of his situation once in a blue moon? The girls are never cueing in front of my hotel door, I deserve to have blast when a rare occasion occurs for some mysterious reason. And I don’t owe anyone any explanation, the guys and Eric are not my chaperones, I’m a single guy with needs and I can’t live in a fantasy world for good, pathetically sobbing after someone I haven’t even met yet, right?

Hydration. That’s the first thing I need right now. The only problem is that she’s sleeping with her limbs spread in four different direction and her left arm happens to rest on my chest. Shit, I wish I had left after we finished it as I always do after one-night stands, it spares both the girl and me awkward morning scenes, these things are not about romance, anyway. But this time the sex was intense and the booze was kick-ass so we both must have passed out after getting on top.

I try to slide out of the bed basically in horizontal position placing the pillow on the same spot where my upper body used to be hoping she’s sleeping deeply enough not to notice the change. I freeze when she lets out a few louder snorts after my maneuver but after a few satisfied smacks, she calms down and keeps snoring. I tiptoe around the bed to collect my clothes and I found all of them except my boxers… fuck, she must be lying on them. After a few seconds of hesitation I get dressed without them, they’re clean since I didn’t have any “accident” yesterday so trying to get them back is not worth risking.

I silently walk out in the kitchen and immediately spot a few bottles of mineral water on the counter… but taking one of them would be stealing, right? But if I turned the water on, she might wake up… I open all of the cupboards until I find a larger glass and turn the water tap cautiously until a thin spout starts running from the pipe. It takes a while until I fill the glass with this method but I gulp the content of it with one breathe in a blink of an eye.

My rumbling stomach directs me to the fridge, even if I don’t want to take anything, I can check its content, right? The cool breeze feels unbelievably good as I lean into it… let me see… further bottles of water, some milk, a piece of moldy cheese which probably isn’t supposed to be moldy, expired yogurt and a bunch of bananas. Shit, banana is my favorite fruit, the best resource of potassium and I’m dying to eat one. But I decided not to steal anything… but come on, it’s only a banana.

As I’m about to leave the crime scene, I notice a notepad and a pencil on the table. Maybe… maybe leaving a note would be a polite way of giving an explanation for what I did, right? Yeah, that’s it! Okay… “Dear…” Fuck, what was her name? Clarissa… Claudette… CLAUDIA! “Dear Claudia,” Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought… should I thank her for the sex? “thanks for the evening. I didn’t want to wake you up so…” so I ran away like a coward “I decided to say bye in this note. I was really hungry so I served myself with a banana.” and last night I served you my banana, Jesus, I’m a gross pig. “Sorry for doing it without asking, as an apology, I drew you another one.” I try to sketch the schematic picture of a banana but it looks like a nonfigurative or even phallic symbol from any possible angle. Shit, I can’t leave it like this. Luckily, the pencil has a quality eraser on the top so I can make the terrible scribble disappear and correct the message. “I drew you the only thing I can draw:” I close my eyes to recall the logo I’ve copied everywhere more times than anything else… “KISS” at least I can still do it… I go over the message again, I think it’ll do the trick. “I wish you the best, Mike”. I stop in the kitchen door on my way out. Even a KISS logo can’t undo a theft. I should offer her some compensation… I walk back and grab the pencil again. “Ps. Next time we come to Charlotte, I’ll invite you for a coffee.” But what if we bump into each other anywhere else? “Of course I also invite you in case we encounter anywhere else.” Okay, ‘Cready, you don’t have to write an epistle, you don’t have to surpass Tatiana, just leave finally before she wakes up. But what if… what if she doesn’t like coffee? Now that I glance around, I can see no coffee machine here… “Ps2. In case you don’t like coffee, my offer applies to tea or soda too, of course.”

Okay, enough, she won’t even notice, who the hell takes inventory about bananas? I shake my head, take a deep breath and sneak out of the apartment.

***

Coffee. The first thing that comes to mind in the morning. I know I drink way too much coffee but caffeine addiction is sort of an inevitable outcome if you’re a rock musician at nights and an espresso guy at daytime. Of course the receptionist or janitor or whoever confirmed my initial aiming: this shitty motel doesn’t sell any food or drinks apart from the broken vending machine in the corner of the lobby. He also said I can take all of its content if I manage to fix it. No, thanks, the late seventies-looking chips bags with their probably fossilized content aren’t particularly tempting.

I’m heading to the bistro on the other side of the street, it’s probably not much better than that place but a coffee without hair in it and a decent breakfast would already satisfy my needs. On entering I must admit, the smells are better than expected and as soon as I take place in a booth, a polite waitress appears at the table handing me a menu and producing a cup out of the blue. She immediately fills it with the hot beverage I was longing for. A cigarette would feel good with it too but there’s no one around I could grub from…

I’ve taken only a few sips of my precious drink when I see a familiar hat appearing at the entrance and in a few seconds, its owner plops down opposite me, munching a banana.

“The prodigal son has returned, huh?” I remark with a wide grin.

“I know you missed me, just admit it.” he answers with a deadpan. “God, I’m starving…” he grabs the menu and begins to study it.

“A coffee, sir?” the waitress emerges again and spills coffee in his cup too without waiting for the answer. “What can I get for you?” she inquires helpfully as she pulls a small notebook with a pen out of the pocket of her apron.

“One Aspirin and a bullet in my head, please.” Mike groans with a dark face.

“Excuse me sir?”

“Give us a few more minutes, please.” I try to send a “don’t ask” signal with my eyes and it seems to work because she leaves with a confused nod.

“The last time I saw you, you felt sick. But somehow you must have resurrected like a phoenix from its ashes since you were out all night… so… go ahead.” I lean back but my bandmate is avoiding my gaze, turning his head around like he was distracted by the interesting furniture of the diner.

“Look, it’s Judy over there!” he shouts pointing at the counter.

“Mike… no… please…” I groan in pain but it’s too late.

“Hey Jude!” he shouts and waves frantically.

Great… I bury my face into my palms.

Unfortunately, Mike comes to the brilliant idea of stretching his leg along the seat he’s sitting on while she’s approaching us; so by the time she gets to our booth, her only option is sitting down next to me. Which she isn’t willing to do, she’s just sending reproving looks at me until I realize the reason of her reluctance is my right arm on the backrest. When I remove it, she slides in the booth as far from me as possible, she’s probably sitting with half butt on the air.

“Hi Judy.” Mike greets her pulling his small metal flask out of the inner pocket of his jacket.

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.” she tries to tear it out of his hand without even greeting us.

“Easy Jude, it’s empty, okay? It’s just a bad habit that I keep checking it.”

“Anyway, I doubt he would begin the day with spirits, seeing he was drinking the whole night…”

“What?” she screams outraged.

“Jesus, are you blind? He’s, like, the quintessence of hangover, circles under the eyes, grey face, he looks like a dirty dish cloth…”

“Jesus, guys, do you really have to talk so loud??? Anyway, thanks Stone, you know how to compliment…” Mike moans rubbing his forehead with his hand.

“I’m just telling the truth. Come on, tell us how did you get so fucked up… or… no… I don’t want to know the details.”

“You probably think I got wasted with a few local dudes I don’t even know and I fell asleep in the corner and when I woke up, I realized someone had drawn a dick on my cheek.”

“You left out the pissing-and-puking part but yeah, sort of. Ouch!” I whine when she tosses me with a strict face at full strength in the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you, do you think he’s a saint or what?” I complain.

“Don’t even listen to him, unlike him, I’m interested in the details. So tell me… were there pubic hair on the dick too?” she leans closer confidentially, flashing a cheeky smile and however much annoying I find her, I can’t help snorting.

“Jesus, six of one, half a dozen of the other.” Mike rolls his eyes. “Anywayyy… I wasn’t with some unknown dudes… but I wasn’t alone either…” he shrugs with a mysterious smile.

“Okay, you’re getting a vasectomy. That’s final. I don’t want you to get sued by teen moms from every single town we stop in.” I shake my head.

“Not that I’m the Casanova of the band, are we going to talk about the favors you’ve done to Seattle’s female population too? Do you begrudge me it or what?”

“I’ve had a long string of girlfriends, so what?”

“What?” our band parrot squeaks in again.

“A long string? There’s a herd of them!” Mike goes on.

“Just stop!” she screams and we both fall silent, surprised by her sudden outburst. “I’m new here. Explain.” she adds in a mellower voice.

“Judith, maybe you should improve your “reading between the lines” skills. My colleague is trying to say that he spent the night with a female acquaintance, I guess we can call her like that with some euphemism. And I recommended some fertility restrictions regarding Mike’s wasted adventures are like the cliché bad examples in sexual education videos.”

“As if you…” my bandmate is about to reply but he gets interrupted by the returning lovely waitress, and honestly, I don’t mind, somehow I don’t want him to reveal my dating history before the girl who never misses any occasion to point out my flaws.

“Did you manage to choose in the meantime?” she inquires.

“I’d like to have… scrambled eggs with ham and a sesame seed bun, fresh orange juice, pancakes with maple syrup, a peanut butter sandwich and chocolate chips with vanilla ice.” Mike reads enthusiastically.

“A sunny-side up with bacon and a cherry pie á la RR.” my neighbor lists.

“A vegetarian cheese plate and I’d like to try that deliciously sounding pie too.” I smile at the waitress.

“It’s even better than you think, Sir.” she winks back at me and as I watch her collecting the menus, I can see Camden’s disgusted face from the corner of my eye.

“Sooo… a Twin Peaks fan, huh?” I nudge her. “From now on, I’m gonna call you Nadine, it suits you in every sense.”

“Nice try, Bob… Anyway, Mike, if this is your hangover appetite, what is your normal state like? I got nausea even of listening to you…”

“I burned a lot of calories last night so…” he grins proudly, making me cackle up.

“Here we are, I want details!” I imitate a drum snare with my palms on the table.

“Jesus, guys, are you really going to disc…” Miss Prudery clucks in but luckily, my bandmate ignores her whining.

“It was… wild.” he smirks firmly.

“Wilder than that escort girl in L.A.?” I giggle since this is one of my favorite stories with which I tease Mike from time to time and it’s also a great topic to outrage this first communicant next to me.

“What? Mike? You’ve paid for sex???” Bingo.

“How many times I have to tell that…” Mike pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers with a nervous gasp. “Judy, it wasn’t the way you think… when I was living in L.A. with the Friel brothers, I met a nice waitress at a concert venue… we sort of hooked up, she’d visit me at the record store I’d work at… she was busted all the time so I’d lend her my spare money, I mean what I didn’t spend on booking gigs for us… and Chris Friel tried to warn me gently that every time I’d give her money, we’d sex afterwards… and once we ended up in a strip club after a gig and I found out she was a stripper, she worked there, I mean, she was dropping her clothes right in front of me… and she wasn’t only stripping. So I realized that what I thought to be a friends with benefits situation was actually a prostitute-client relationship, she was just too good-hearted to enlighten me. Stone, are you happy now???”

“Awww, Mike, this is so sad… but it’s also somehow so sweet… I hope you got a discount at least. But what’s with that girl from last night? What’s her name?”

“Someone has suddenly become curious, interesting…” I throw in.

“Errrr… her name was…”

“Jesus, Camden, you know nothing about one-night-stands, don’t you?” I ask to buy Mike some time but to be honest, I don’t know what to think seeing the industrial amount of condoms I found in her toiletry bag last night. Either is she a wild cat and a really god actress at the same time or this tour is like a project for her to get rid of her virginity. Ten times at least. And Jeff Ament has the honor to assist. Jesus.

“Why, I only asked…”

“He doesn’t know shit about her, let alone her name.”

“You banged…” she yells but realizing everyone looks at us, she suddenly takes the volume back “You had sex with her and you didn’t even ask her name?” she whispers between her teeth.

“Why? Names are overrated. Anyway, she introduced herself, I just… can’t remember her name anymore. And she didn’t even care about my name either.”

“Judith, I understand this is new to you, you probably insist on swapping business cards before petting and ask the guy even to show his ID before the penetration but in most cases, these things are going in a simpler way…” I use the occasion to torture her a bit and she starts reddening so much that I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

“Hey Stoney, don’t mock her! Jude, there’s nothing wrong with being cautious. I mean, the social security number can even be useful in case your partner suffers a sex injury.” he tries to help her out clumsily and glances at me for reassurance.

“Yeah, let alone the blood type in case he needs a transfusion after the experience.” I scoff.

“Could we go back to Mike’s experience?” she squints towards me with popped eyes making a nervous gesture. “I hope you had protection…”

“Jesus, of course, she was prepared…”

“She??? Mike, how can you be so irresponsible, it’s always the guy’s task, I would never ever… go out with a guy who expects me to provide him with condoms, Jesus…”

Ha. The little liar…

“Are we seriously analyzing these details? I mean, how was the chick?” I exclaim, earning one more toss arriving from my right side.

“She was… nice. I mean, she had that crazy vibe… It was weird, everything was okay until we left to her place, we drank, we played pool, she started flirting, I reciprocated it and so on… At one point, she threw herself on me, by the time I realized what’s happening, she was basically already licking my tonsils… not that I minded. So she dragged me to her place.”

“That doesn’t sound that bad…” I grin.

“Something tells me there was a “but” in the story…” the queen of condoms reacts ignoring my remark.

“Well yeah… she disappeared in the kitchen to bring more booze, so I turned on the TV, I thought some decent erotic channel wouldn’t hurt in the process but I stopped at a documentary, it was filmed in Kenya, I think, with beautiful shots and interesting narrations… she came back at the part on mating lions, she asked me if liked it, I found her question odd but I answered “of course” and she got completely hysterical.”

“How… how do you mean?” she asks fidgeting anxiously with her coffee mug.

“She… she freaked out saying she couldn’t believe I’m into that too. It so strange, out of context, I guess it was probably some dark secret with his ex, so I didn’t ask.”

What a coincidence!

“Interesting, the same…” I reply but a nervous little hand beats me in the thigh under the table. What the hell is she doing?

“Go… go on Mike, and what happened after that?” she inquires with a forced smile.

“I managed to calm her down, switched to Playboy channel, and you know… we begin to get  into the thing on the couch… but my stomach started rumbling, I was starving since I hadn’t eaten the whole day. So I asked her if I could grab some food before we… you know… and she almost begin to cry, explaining she never mixes food into sex, it was so incoherent, I couldn’t even understand what’s happening…” he recalls causing me a lightbulb moment.

“Jesus Mike, I know why she acted like that…” I exclaim chuckling since it I know this is more than a simple coincidence, his story has too much in common with my conversation with Claudia. Actually, now that it’s not about me, it actually sounds funny. Hilariously funny, I can’t stop shaking of repressed laughter… But those restless fingers pinch me in the thigh this time and when I turn right to challenge her, all I can see are two, huge, warm, brown eyes, begging me concerned… and suddenly I realize what they are trying to say.

“And why?” Mike asks back. Okay, I have to find out something, and I have to do it fast, think…

“Because… because… she chickened out!”

“Yes, that must have been the reason.” she agrees as quickly as possible. Okay, crisis averted.

“She didn’t.” Mike smirks. “She finally allowed me to grab some snacks and then… mature content.” he illustrates with fitting hand moves the events. “Okay, she turned out to be into rodeo roleplay, which was new to me but… after all, it was fun.” he shrugs not too convincingly.

“Was she wearing boots with spurs?”

“Damn, Camden, you always grasp the most important details…”

“She wasn’t… but she had a hat made bondage stuff to me but it was fine.”

Our meals arrive in the meantime but somehow the consumption of my vegan cheese plate seems to be incompatible with the picture of the naked Mike tied to a bed and ridden by Claudia only wearing a cowboy hat.

“A lot of people are into it but of course, there are different levels.” our troublemaker plays the expert with her mouth full.

“It was the enjoyable level bondage. Anyway, she had one more outburst, when we were finished.” he tells stuffing a considerable pile of scrambled egg into his mouth. “After the action, she went out to the bathroom but she threatened to slit my throat if I’d follow her. Like, why would I do that?”

I snort but I manage to fake a cough fast enough not to be noticed by Mike and abused by the travel-size Terminator.

“I don’t know, shower sex?” she shrugs casually munching too. Like she knows.

“Yeah, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Whatever. Anyway, guys, how was your night?”

“Terrible.”

“Awful.” we answer at once.

“Why, was it because of the motel or…?”

“I had nightmares… I mean, during that one single hour I slept. I didn’t really dare fall asleep because of the cockroaches… and I kept dreaming about them.” she begins to play with the food pushing it around on the plate.

“Stone, you had nightmares too?”

“Oh, no… although I had every reason to do so. I don’t know, the bed was uncomfortable.”

There’s an awkward silence. Mike devotes all his attention to his food and honestly, probably neither of us minds that he stops asking about last night. Anyway, as for the Claudia thing, she was right. He was proud of his conquest, facing him with the fact he was only a backup target would have totally ruined his confidence. I have to warn Scully too, he’s such a gossip. And Ed would certainly disapprove it but come on, Mike just wants to enjoy being the member of a rock band. He doesn’t fuck girls in every bush we pass by, I don’t think he should be executed for it. Jeff isn’t better either, drooling over you colleague, how immature and irresponsible…

“Hi Jeff!”

Speak of the devil. Anyway, why is she so suddenly so enthusiastic of seeing him?

“Hi guys. Wow, that looks good.” our bassist leans over to check my plate while Mike pulls his leg back to leave him space. Of course he couldn’t do that a few minutes earlier, so typical.

“If you ask me, it tastes better without Mike’s bizarre sex adventures but it’s a matter of taste.”

“Bizarre sex adventures? Something tells me I have to catch up.” he laughs. “How are you, Judy? You disappeared tomorrow so early.”

“Thanks, I’m fine, I was just…tired. Look, Jeff, I was thinking… if you wanna hang out today before the show? I mean, you said you’d show me a few chords and…”

I can’t believe my ears. What made her change her mind? If Dave’s jealousy trick worked out, I have to re-evaluate my knowledge about dating.

“Sure.” Jeff’s face lights up. “Anytime.”

“Aaaanytime, Juuudy…” I mock. ”Just don’t forget to put some money in his G-string.” I add mumbling.

“Jesus, Stone, you’re gross!” Mike drops his fork annoyed.

“I’m the gross? Remember, Mike…” I’m ready to remind him of his various drunk performances but as the debate is about to get heated, Eric shows up in the diner followed by Ed and Beth.

“Guys, we have a problem…”

[queerlyglittering]

I'm so goddamn tired of having to keep myself quiet and contained in order to please everyone else.

I'm tired of being told that my emotional responses are not valid or acceptable. I'm tired of being the only one not allowed to be loud or take up space. I'm tired of always having to restrain myself while everyone else goes haywire. Everyone else in my life gets to yell and scream and throw things and break shit and punch walls. But if I so much as open my mouth and try to calmly express the fact that I'm upset, suddenly I'M the toxic abusive psycho. Suddenly I'M the problem. So I have to shut up and bottle down and disappear. Anger? Keep it quiet, bottle it up. Pain? Faking it for attention, shut up. Emotional abuse? Fawn response, shut up and take it and be grateful it isn't worse. Panic attack? Suppress it, dissociate, there's no cause for it so don't even act shaken. If I do respond to any emotional stimuli at all, I get told that I'm overreacting and deflecting blame onto others when I am the one at fault and they're just the victim. It's exhausting.

Every once in a blue moon I get a little loud, and that's the most I ever do - but that was enough to get me hauled to a psych ward once, so I've tried my best to avoid any repeat performances. So I run away, I go for walks to cool off whenever I'm upset, because I can't affect anyone with my emotional responses if I'm not around them. Except I can't fucking do that right now because I have a broken leg and i can't walk. So instead I have to bite my tongue bloody just to keep myself quiet and be grateful that the people I live with give enough of a fuck about me to even bother trying to take care of me. I have to keep making myself small to make everyone else happy.

I don't fucking want to do that. I want to go apeshit. I want to go completely fucking feral. I want to scream at the top of my lungs and throw things and punch holes in the drywall. I want to break shit. But I'm not allowed that level of emotional response. It's stultifying and it's stunting.

Today I nearly had a panic attack in walmart because I went to the store with my housemates and my stupid electric wheelchair cart couldn't keep up with their walking pace and these two completely random dudes walked up behind me, close enough to touch me and for me to hear their conversation, for a good 40 feet. Creepy as fuck. Like, they could have gone around me on foot, or turned on a different aisle, or something. They didn't even have carts. They weren't with me and I visibly could not move any faster. But they just kept following me. Creeped me the fuck out. But I shook it off, suppressed the panic and tried to help my housemates find a new lightbulb for our range hood thing anyway, once I caught up to them. But apparently everything I tried to say or do to be helpful was not only wrong but annoying. So I drove off in my cart - only to end up with my boyfriend chasing me down for several aisles to put stuff in my basket. So they didn't want to stay with me, but I wasn't allowed to wander off; they didn't want me to talk or help, but when i tried to get out of the way i was being unhelpful. And when i lashed out verbally in frustration at the fact that in order to look for new socks, i had to get out of the cart and crutch around because the aisles were too narrow for the cart, i got rude "apologies" like i had somehow blamed them for the way the fucking store was laid out. I tried explaining to my boyfriend why i was upset, that i was sublimating my panic from being followed, and he lashed out and apologized again for not staying with me - because all he took from my explanation was that i was somehow accusing him of it being his fault that two creeps chased me around and freaked me out. I wasn't even allowed to be upset about something legitimately upsetting, without someone else making themselves the victim. So in the car on the way home, I just shut down and dissociated. At least it relaxed me enough to calm my breathing and get the stress lump out of my throat.

And this is far from the first time this has happened. Just last week I got barged in on while getting dressed, and somehow I was the one in the wrong and overreacting because I shouted in surprise at having my privacy intruded upon. Never mind that she was the one who busted in on me half-naked and basically violated my consent; I was the one being toxic and abusive because of a reflexive reaction in a moment of panic.

I'm not even going to touch on how often this shit happened to me while living with family, either my mom and brother(s) or my dad and stepmom. Suffice it to say, it happened enough that it's one of the reasons i have C-PTSD.

Basically, I'm 27 fucking years old and I've spent my whole life, literally from birth, not being allowed to feel my feelings. It's bullshit, and I've had enough.

[mayonara]

It doesn't happen often, but sometimes Dick's beauty ends up attracting the wrong kind of attention... Jason's not going to stand by and watch those bastards grope his scared boyfriend anymore.

This made me think about Dick’s older men’s fanclub so… hence, I wrote about his fanclub hitting on him. Thanks for the ask and enjoy! 

Beingbeautiful had its perks, but it also had its downs and one of the downs beingthe unwanted attention beauty attracted. Jason was used to seeing hisboyfriend, Dick, being flourished with all types of compliments and attention.Coming from those who sincerely liked him, those who were sort of interestedbecause he was handsome, or the ones he wanted to punch in the face.

Yes—thoseare the ones he desperately wanted to flick away like bugs. But for fear ofgetting reprimanded for indefensibly hitting others, he held back. Besides, theywere only looking and not touching. Otherwise Jason might have already knockeda teeth or two out.

Unfortunately,that didn’t last long as Jason slowly began to learn about Dick’s special fans.Or should he say, specifically five who decided to get a little too familiarwith Dick. 

Jasoncalled them the gentlemen fan club since it was filled with middle agedmen. Men Dick tended to attract and Jason couldn’t comprehend why and how. Whyall these old ass men were after his boyfriend, literally. They wanted his ass, but they also wanted his head. Orwell, possibly wanted him to grovel to them. 

Dickjust had a weird knack for attracting older villainousmen. Did he mention that they were all villains? Because they were.

Firstit started with Owlman. Some crazyBatman counter-part from a different earth who was oddly infatuated with Dick.He wasn’t often around, once in a blue moon, but whenever he was. He’d alwaysattempt to capture Dick. 

Well,let’s say his group was successful once when they captured him, unmasked himand then proceeded to strap him to a time bomb called the Murder Machine. Whichthen, Lex Luthor made the decision to kill him briefly and then resuscitatehim.

Atleast the man chose to make amends later by helping Dick. Though a little crazyas Dick had described. He sought after Dick because the Dick of his world haddied, and he wanted so much to be with Dick again. Said something along thelines of “I’m not giving up on you and Ibeing a team again.”

Butmaybe he was just sad. At least henever came around often.

Secondwas a man named Tiger, a spy heworked with during his Spyral days so he supposed this one wasn’t a villain.Surely, this one wouldn’t have seemed interested since he kept constantlyrejecting Dick’s advances for friendship. But of course it was just a cover tohide his interest in Dick. 

Jasoncould see right through his intention and constantly caught him checking outhis ass whenever he was around, but pretended to not whenever Jason tossed hima glare. Dick, a bit oblivious, hadn’t noticed and carried on like usually, allchummy with Tiger like their old days as partners.

Jasongrumbled as he watched them exchange words, and then immediately flared up withrage when he saw a hand—that’s right, a motherfucking hand that belonged tothis Tony Tiger resting on his waist. Jason almost flipped his shit and wentgunning for him. But when Dick didn’t react to it, just laughed it off andcontinued talking like it was nothing, he held back. 

Motherfucker.He was going to plot a way to punish Tiger.

Atleast he wasn’t a big offender.

Thirdwas Midnighter. Much to say, hewasn’t dangerous because he was gay or the fact that he had a lover namedApollo. But he was dangerous because he was being a goddamn flirt and Dickwould flirt back with him. Even lethim cope a feel.

Whatthe—? Jason couldn’t even fathom what went through their damn minds when bothof them were already dating. Was it because they were that it wasn’t a big deal? Or the fact that they were closethat neither cared? 

Eitherway, Jason didn’t like it and opposed to Dick visiting or calling Midnighterfor help. It also wasn’t pleasant to know that he knew Dick’s ass so well. Thathis ass was distinct enough he could simply point it out in a crowd.

Ofcourse it was because his ass was beautiful but that was beside the point.

Jasonwas just going to have to find a way to cut off the communication between thetwo.

Leasthe wasn’t a psycho like someone else they knew who was new to the fan club.

Sothe fourth was a crazy man who was out for revenge or some weird vendettaagainst Dick. Something about wanting him to be better and not follow inBruce’s footsteps. Jason didn’t really care about that, but this man, Raptor, was crazy obsessed with Dick andwould not leave him alone.

Hekept hounding him, stalking him to the point Dick stopped messing around, usedall his skills to kick his butt (not literally) when he slapped his ass(literally) mid-fight.

Dick’sface flushed a brilliant red, brows pressed tight into a thin line as his eyeswere most likely glaring dangerously from beneath his mask at Raptor. His loverwas embarrassed as he huffed a breath and gripped his weapons tightly in hishands.

Raptorjust smirked widely and Jason immediately wiped his gun and pointed it at him,ready to shoot, but Dick was too swift and got to him before Jason could andsmacked him with his escrima stick, electrified him to unconsciousness.

“Hmph,” Dick scoffed, satisfied with hiswork and quickly tied him up with his zip ties.

Andokay, maybe Jason didn’t really need to protect Dick from his admirers. He wasfairly capable of handling himself, that he knew.

Thatwas until Slade decided to join the mix. Actually, he was probably founder of the fan club.

Andthat fifth one, Slade, was the mostdangerous.

Becausehe actually took extreme measures to messing with Dick. Went as far asfrightening the man as he shivered in horror.

“Look at you,” Slade murmured and brusheda hand over his bare ass. “You’re already hard,” he whispered, deep and husky,caused Dick to shudder and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t look!” he cried, pleaded as herefused to look at Jason.

Jasonjust—all he saw, all he could imagine was Slade’s head on the ground. BecauseDick was half naked. His uniform was in tears, the back completely rippedapart, exposing everything from behind all the way down to just the tip of histhighs. His cup had been removed and Jason could see he was sporting a veryhard boner.

“You’regoing to fucking die for this,” he growled and fired his shots at Slade, whoeasily avoided them. He curved around to Dick’s back side and slapped his ass,squeezed it tight as he kneaded it like dough. Dick bit down on his lips,suppressing a whimper.

“Don’t—“he breathed and tried to shake him off but couldn’t. His arms and legs weretied together and he was drugged to the brim, couldn’t control any part of hisbody. Was too weak to fight back.

“Ohpretty bird,” Slade mumbled andlicked a tongue down his neck. “You’re fine.” He said and released his hand offof Dick and Jason saw how his shoulders slumped, relaxed momentarily. But thatdidn’t help to alleviate the atmosphere of the current situation.

Jasonsucked in a heavy breath and rushed towards Slade, couldn’t hold back his angerany longer. He attacked the man, jumped him as he threw in a punch which theman swiftly dodged.

“Don’tworry,” he teased as Jason shot at him again, missing. “I wasn’t going to doanything,” he spoke with amusement, playful grin on his lips.

Jasongrowled, not appreciating his words one single bit. “Fuck off.” He knew that he couldn’t beat Slade, not with him tryingto protect Dick and the fact that this fucker was a superhuman. Whatever he didprobably wouldn’t work so Jason was only trying to fend him off, get him toleave.

“Iwill. I was only leaving you with a gift. Of course, after having touched theprize myself, I would say he is quite adequate.”

Jasongrit his teeth, ready to just attempt to murder the man even if he was about topossibly lose his life over it. But then as he contemplated the idea, Sladedecided to bid his farewell.

“Youdon’t need to worry, Red. He’s still yours,” Slade said and waved a hand athim. “I have other businesses to attend to.” And with that he left,disappeared. Acted as if all his actions, all that he’d done, from capturingDick to humiliating him and harassing him, was all he wanted to achieve.

Butwhatever. He was gone and Jason had important matters to attend to. He rushedtowards Dick and cut the ropes that strung him up, bounding him from escape.The man dropped to his knees and moaned sweetly as his body spasm. He wasprobably sensitive due to the drug, a stimulant that Slade had fed him.

“Hey,”Jason softly called and hovered a hand just above his shoulder, unsure if heshould touch him or not. But then decided to apply an antidote first andbrought out his kit from his utility belt. He pulled out a needle and gentlyheld onto Dick’s arm, felt the man twitch, and gently pierced his skin.Hopefully, it would work quickly.

Oncedone, he tried to call for Dick’s attention again, but the man ignored him.Dick drew in a shaky breath as he turned his head away from Jason. He wasprobably feeling ashamed, embarrassed that he was caught in such a situation.That he’d been such a fool to get captured like that, humiliated in front ofJason. Disappointed at himself for failing yet again.

“Dick,”Jason said and decided to settle a hand on his shoulder. Saw him flinch to histouch, but then slowly relax, felt calmed by his lover’s presence. “It’s fine.I’m not—it’s not bad.”

“Itis bad.” Dick growled and finally turned to meet Jason’s gaze. His eyes weredark, shadows heavy under his eyes and they were slightly hazed from the drug.“I’m upset with myself. I let—I let him do this to me,” he murmured andgestured at all of himself, the current state that he was in.

Atleast they were locked in a secured warehouse with no one around, so really,Jason was the only witness to this and he would never think badly of Dick norwould he breathe it to another soul. Sighing softly, he scrubbed a hand throughhis hair frustratingly and then shucked off his jacket. He placed the leathergarment over his shoulders, hiding his back. He’d need to find something elseto cover up his ripped uniform.

“Hey,“Jason said and kneeled beside Dick, wrapped an arm around his shoulders andpulled him into an embrace. “It’s okay. Nothing happened.”

“It’snot that,” Dick whispered and returned the embrace, buried his face in thecrook of Jason’s neck. “It’s how it happened. I was naïve and—and he got tome,” he said and squeezed Jason tight, searching for comfort and warmth andJason gave it to him, threaded his fingers in his hair as he gently caressedhim. “I know he doesn’t actually mean it. But the fact that he—he decided tomess with me this way was just—“

“Fucked up?”

“Yeah,”Dick breathed out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, that.”He was shaken and Jason knew. Situations like this triggered him due to pastexperience and it wasn’t something that Dick liked to think about or somethingthat many knew either.

“I’ll—“Jason was tongue tied, didn’t know what to say. What could he say? They’vediscussed the topic before but this, thiswas a different matter that needed to be handled differently. So he decided tosmooth it over briefly before they really took the time to talk it in depth.

“You’lljust—“ Even then, Jason had a hard time pin-pointing the words, didn’t want tooffend Dick so he had to say it in a positive way. “You’ll just have to be moreaware of Slade. You know that man is a crazy fucker. And he’s oddly obsessedwith you.”

“Iknow. I’m not worried about that. I mean, a little, but I’m worried that he’dhurt you or worse—“

Andgod damn, why was Dick Grayson always such a sweetheart for worrying aboutothers before himself? When he’s always the main target for these lustful men.

“You idiot,” Jason scolded. “Think ofyourself first.”

AndDick finally chuckled. “I do.”

“Youare such a liar dickhead.”

Dickfinally smiled as he leaned back to gaze into Jason’s eyes, held him still ashe stared at him desperately. “Take mehome?” He whispered with pleading blue eyes, exhausted and tired beyond hisbeing.

Jasonjust rolled his eyes at that question that really wasn’t a question. “Duh. Ofcourse,” he said and wrapped him up in his jacket, lifted him into his arms. “Home it is,” he murmured and pecked hischeek gingerly.

Oncethings stabilized, they would come back to this topic. Come up with a ploy tocounter-measure Slade next time. Or anything like this for that matter.

[tsfrbss]

Paper Moon Part 16

MB - @thecountessakasha - back again. I hope you’re ready for Part 16! There’s no smut, it’s literally all fluff, so apologies in advance.

I’m going to tag a couple people who I’ve told about this and my really special love who keeps betaing this for me @evansscruff - thank you, darling.

A/N: Bucky and Steve end up at a venue that has a 40s night and meet an OFC, Melissa Rose, a singer in a local club. They both are smitten by her, and start to vie for her affections. They end up finding out more about themselves in the process.

This honestly started out as maybe a one shot but as I got going, I decided it’ll be chapters. How many? No frigging idea. This is my absolute first time writing a fic of any sort and yes I did base the OFC on myself. I hope y'all enjoy.

Word count: 4100+ because I am a wordy bitch.

Warnings: FLUFF to the Goddamn max. Gonna rot your teeth. Panic attack. Oh, and cussing. Like always.

STEVE’S POV

Holy shit, I am so nervous. OK. OK, Steve. Calm down. It’s your birthday, it’s your party. It’ll be fine.

I’m pacing around my bedroom, wringing my hands. Tonight’s the night I tell Melissa and Bucky about what I’ve gotten for them. I love them. They love me. So why am I on pins and needles? I just want them to be happy. But this is huge. The three of us living together.

We practically do anyway. Whenever I’m not out on missions, I’m there with them at the apartment. I don’t think there’s been a night Bucky’s spent at the tower since the fateful day we took the big leap into this relationship.

Tony wanted a lavish affair tonight, so I’m in my blue tuxedo. As I finish with the buttons on my shirt, I feel my nervous tics start up: pacing. Brushing my hair to the side. Overthinking.

Neither Melissa nor Bucky are here. They’re both at her place, getting ready. She asked me to come over after I was done so that she could spend a little time with only us before the big shindig.

Grabbing the gift Bucky and I have for her and the one that I have for the pair, I head out to the elevator practically running over Natasha in the process and dropping the packages she had beautifully wrapped for us.

“Damn, I’m sorry Nat,” I mutter bending down to pick them up. She’s just standing there laughing at me.

“Jesus, Rogers. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous. Not even on your first date out of the ice.”

The boxes tremble in my hands. “Nat, this is a big deal. What if they say no? Well, I mean, Bucky probably won’t, but Melissa might. It was so hard on us, on her especially, when everything became public. What if she decides that this step is a step too far? That it’s all too much for her? I don’t think I can handle that kind of rejection.” I drop my eyes to the packages that I’m trying desperately not to crush in my large hands as my nerves begin to get the better of me.

Nat watches me, gauging her words carefully. She places a hand on my wrist, her voice soft. “Steve. It’s going to be fine. She loves you. She loves Bucky. She loves you both so deeply it’s honestly awe inspiring. I’ve never seen a woman with more capacity to love than her. You know she would do anything for you, right? For both of you. For either of you. She’s sacrificed so much to take a chance on a scary thing just to experience the love that you give back to her. To experience more love than she’s ever had in her entire life. Trust in that. Trust in the love you three share. You’ve got no reason to doubt her. She’s stuck with you this far. She’s not going anywhere.”

My eyes fill with tears at her words. I quickly swipe the cresting drops away from my face and nod. “You’re right. You’re right. It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be perfect.”

“Of course it is, old man.” The redhead’s hand smacks me on the shoulder as she laughs. “You’d better get going if you’re gonna head over there before the party starts.”

I give her a quick hug, “Thanks, Nat. And thanks for being such a good friend to her. She really loves you.”

“And I love her. And if you hurt her, either of you, I’ll hurt you.” She winks and disappears.

Damn, she’s scary when she wants to be. I love how protective she is of Melissa, though. It puts me at ease. If Bucky or I can’t be around, Melissa will be well looked after.

I gather myself, grab my jacket, tuck the boxes under my arm and head out of the tower on the way to Melissa’s place. With a spring in my step I reach the club, using my keys to slip in the front door. The owner is there, taking inventory behind the bar and he calls out to me. “Hey there Captain Rogers. Happy birthday! Thanks for the invite to the party tonight. I’ve always wanted to see the place.” He chuckles nervously and I reach out to shake his hand.

“It was absolutely no trouble. You’ve been wonderful to Melissa, wonderful to us. You’re more than welcome anytime, Johnny.” I give him a little salute as I head upstairs and he relaxes a little and gets back to his counting.

I reach the top step and make my way into the apartment. Tossing my keys into the bowl set upon the table by the door, I yell, “Honeys, I’m hooooooome!”

There’s a groan from the kitchen, and I turn to see Melissa rolling her eyes at me. “You are such a dork, Steven.” She shakes her head as she walks over to meet me.

As I take in the vision before me, I’m overcome. “My god you look incredible, Maîtresse.” She’s wearing a dress I’ve never seen-a dazzling, shimmering red floor length piece, tight around the bosom, dipping low in front and hugging her curves before flaring out at the hem. There’s a long slit up her right thigh, and the straps of the dress are thin spaghetti style. It shimmers in the light. She’s a little taller tonight because of the silver, strappy heels she’s wearing.

She stops and twirls around, her dark silver laced waves bouncing around her shoulders, “You really think so? It’s not too much? I don’t want to take any attention away from you, lover. It’s your party, after all.” She gives a small scoff, rolling her eyes.

I reach out for her hands, pulling her to me. I slide my fingers up her arms and over her shoulders, tracing the lines of her tattoos, fingertips sliding up her neck. She gives a soft moan at my touch, and I lean down to brush my lips against her jaw, “Oh, Melissa. When will you learn that you deserve the spotlight that you’re made for it?”

Her breath hitches as she melts at my words. She pulls me into a deep, lingering kiss, as her hands slide up and into the hair at the back of my neck. We’re getting lost in each other when we hear a voice. “Oh ho, starting without me, are we?”

Melissa and I giggle, smiling against each others mouths, and leave little soft kisses behind. She turns to look at the source of the voice. “Now, now, baby boy. Don’t get your boxers in a twist.”

Bucky looks devastatingly handsome in his black tux. He’s let his hair grow back out because Melissa likes it longer and it’s pulled back in a loose ponytail. There’s a smirk plastered on his face and he walks over to the pair of us with his characteristic swagger, “Then maybe you two should give me a kiss so’s I don’t feel left out.”

She snorts softly and pulls him down to her mouth roughly, claiming him with a searing kiss before releasing him so I can do the same. As he and I swirl our tongues around each other’s she murmurs, “Happy now, beloved?”

Bucky hums softly against my lips and nods, “Oh yeah. Definitely.”

She smacks him on the ass, which surprises him and causes him to yelp. “Now behave, brat. It’s Steve’s day.”

He rubs a hand over the cheek she swatted with a pout on his lips. “Yes ma'am.”

Melissa grabs my hand and Bucky’s metal one and tugs us over toward the living room. “Alright boys. Enough playing around. We don’t have a lot of time before we need to head to the tower and I have something I want to give the both of you.”

Bucky and I look at each other with matching surprised expressions as we sit down on the sofa together.

She disappears down the hall toward the bedroom. “Melissa. It’s Steve’s birthday, why did you get me something?” Bucky calls after her.

“Hush yer mouth, baby boy. You deserve a present, too.” she intones as she re-emerges holding two small boxes, one red and one blue.

Her small hands thrust the boxes at us, Bucky receiving the red one as I get the blue. She’s staring at us, wide eyed, looking nervous as she chews on her bottom lip. “Well, go on. Open ‘em up.”

We tear into the small packages then open the boxes. Inside each is a bracelet, small, made of what looks to be titanium. The one in Bucky’s box is black. Mine is brushed silver. Simple, yet very lovely. Next to each one, nestled in the cotton padding is a tiny screwdriver.

“I know neither of you are big on jewelry. But I really wanted to get you both something that you could keep with you. I wanted something small so that you could wear it with your uniforms and such. And I thought rings were too presumptive.” Melissa’s face colors brightly and she looks away from us.

She clears her throat, “So, I thought these would work. They’re low profile and being titanium they’ll hold up to wear and tear.” Her brows knit and she pauses a moment before continuing, “They’re also symbolic. Of me claiming the two of you as my own.”

We look at each other then back to her, smiles gracing both of our faces. “Beloved, I’m honored. Truth be told you, claimed me the night we met. I love you with all that I am.” Bucky holds the bracelet out to her with the screwdriver. “Please, Angel. I’m yours.”

Her small fingers shake as she opens the bracelet, then turns it to show him. “I’ve had them engraved. Bucky, you’re the light in the dark. You bring my nights back from the brink. You’re My Moon. Yours says Ma Lune.” She slides the small piece of metal around his right wrist and closes the latch by tightening the screw. Once she’s done, she kisses the palm of his hand.

“Steve, you are the brightest star I’ve ever known. You give your life and warmth to all those around you. You make me bloom. You’re My Sun. Yours says Mon Soleil.” With her fingers still shaking, she repeats the actions with my right wrist, sealing it with a kiss on my palm.

I cup her cheek and brush my thumb across the bone, “Maîtresse, I’ve been yours from the first night we spent together running the streets of the city without a care in the world. I fell so hard for you that night, I knew I could never look back. I love you more than life.” I pull her into my lap, kissing her hotly.

Bucky slides in next to us and starts kissing her shoulder. Melissa laughs softly against my mouth as his lips tickle her skin. “Now, now boys. We can’t be late for the party.”

He and I both groan in resignation, knowing she’s right. Besides, we still have to give her our present. “Fine, fine, doll. But Bucky and I have a gift for you as well.”

Her mouth drops open and she shakes her head, “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything, mes amours. I don’t need anything other than you two.”

I slide her off my lap and plop her onto Bucky’s so I can get up and grab the boxes I brought with me. His brows knit seeing two instead of one and I grin broadly at him.

The bigger one wrapped in matte black paper I set on the table. Handing her the long slender box wrapped in beautiful silver paper, I nod to her, “This is from me and Buck. We really hope you like it.”

BUCKY’S POV

I’m grinning from ear to ear as she holds the gift in her hand. She keeps shaking her head, “You boys really shouldn’t have gotten me anything. This is Steve’s special day, not mine.”

“Sugar, you got me a present today, too. So you’re not playing by the rules either.” I click my tongue at her.

She rolls her eyes as Steve laughs, “Alright fine!” Her fingers tear at the paper and when she reaches the box she opens it slowly, as if it contained something that might jump out and bite her. Finally she opens the box and gasps, her eyes meeting mine then Steve’s.

Melissa’s voice comes out nearly a whisper, “Oh my god, boys. This is… wow.” Her small fingers pluck the pretty, delicate chain and the dog tags out of the pile of cotton. “Are these…?”

“The originals? Oh yes. But we did have them plated in platinum so they would be more durable, and let’s be honest, prettier.” Steve is rubbing her arm lovingly as we watch tears gather in her eyes.

“This is so thoughtful and special. I am… I can’t believe you would give these to me.” The tears break through her lashes and drop onto her cheeks.

I reach out and brush them away. “Don’t cry, Angel. We thought it would make you happy. You understand what they mean more than anyone else would. How special it would be for you to wear one of each of ours. I already wear one of his and he wears one of mine. Now you get the other half. As it should be.”

She’s trembling as she unclasps the chain and lets Steve put it around her neck and refasten it for her. Once on, they rest just above her glorious breasts. Of course I noticed that. I’m old, not dead. And have you seen her? Jesus…

“My cup runneth over…” Melissa flings her arms around my neck, kissing me messily, full of the love she constantly shows us. She shifts on my lap to pull Steve into the same kind of kiss. She’s still choking back little sobs of happy tears when Steve pulls away.

“Since we’re doing the gift giving now, I have something else.” He reaches over to grab the other package he brought. “This is for the both of you.”

She and I turn to each other and she gestures for me to open it. I tear the paper off revealing a thin black box. Opening it, I see one of Steve’s sketchbooks. I immediately look up at him and he’s blushing brightly, “I… I’ve been drawing you two. That book is full of nothing but you and Melissa. Together and separately.”

Melissa takes the book out of the box and starts to flip through it. “Oh, Steven. These are beautiful.” She runs her fingers over a drawing of me, lounging on the sofa, and giggles. “Your natural habitat, baby boy.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” I roll my eyes and turn a couple pages. Here I see Melissa and myself in our little park, hidden from the world by our hoodies and baggy clothes and sunglasses. “Stevie, these are perfect. God, you are so talented. If you ever give up the shield you can open your own gallery. Speaking of which….” I glance at Melissa and she nods. I lift her up off of my lap and set her back on her feet while I go get the huge basket we’ve put together for him.

Steve’s eyes widen when he sees me come back in. “What did you two do?” Grinning, I set the basket down on the coffee table in front of him.

“Well, the first thing we did is clear out that far corner of the living room.” Steve’s eyes follow Melissa’s finger as she points over to the far side of the room. “You need a studio, so this is the best we could do for now. That’s your space. And to fill it, we got all these supplies for you.”

I pick up the basket once more and shove it at him. He’s stunned silent. I hear Melissa start to giggle softly as he finally takes it from me. “You two…” He shakes his head and starts to dig through the goodies. “You’re too good to me.”

“Steve, you deserve this and more. So much more.” I snatch the card out of the basket and slide it into his hand as I kiss the back of his neck. “This is from me, with a little help from Natalia and Tony.”

He opens the envelope and removes the card. Inside are the special tickets Natalia had printed up, and as he reads them over he gasps softly.

“Bucky, Oh my god. This is amazing!” He leans over and shows them to Melissa who whispers, “Wow.”

“It’s tomorrow night. Tony says even if a mission comes up, you’re off.” I’m beaming at him as he closes the gap between us, pulling me into his arms, wrapping me up tightly. We hug, just enjoying the feeling of each other as Melissa watches, her teeth pressed into her lower lip as the corners of her mouth curl into a soft smile.

Steve moves his hands to cup my jaw, “I can’t think of a better way to spend an evening than in the Museum of Modern Art with the two people I love more than life. Thank you, Buck.”

MELISSA’S POV

I cannot even express the joy and love I feel in this moment. Who knew I could ever be this happy? I certainly never believed I deserved it. But they’ve proven me wrong. And the continue to do so every day.

As Steve pulls away from Bucky he grabs my hand in his. He looks as if he wants to say something, but scared to do so.

“Steven, lover, what’s wrong?” I brush my thumb across the back of his hand watching his expression. He’s obviously fighting with himself in his head. My eyes shift to Bucky’s and I raise my shoulders a little as we exchange confused glances.

Steve clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck- a sign that he’s nervous. His cheeks color and he stammers out, “Guys, I… I’m real grateful you did all of this, working to provide me a makeshift studio here so that I could be with you more.”

“It was nothing, Steve. I wish we could have done more. I wish there was another room here, you could have it for your own.” I raise his hand to my cheek, letting him form his palm to it as I nuzzle into his touch. My fingers trace delicately on his wrist.

Bucky chuffs out, “Yeah, babe. We want you to be comfortable when you’re drawing, creating. To have everything here, organized so you can easily find what you need. We know how happy it makes you. We just wanted to facilitate that.”

He’s starting to pace now, pulling away from us both and shoves his hands in his pants pockets. I hear a jingle, like keys, and if I hear it I know Bucky does, too.

“Honey lamb, what is it? What’s wrong?” I watch Steve closely and his actions are starting to make me nervous. I move over to him placing my hands on his chest to stop his movements. “Spit it out, Steven.” My voice comes out a bit lower and more stern than I intended it to, but he needs the firmness.

He looks at me, beautiful blue eyes swimming with adoration. “I love you, Melissa. I love you and Bucky more than I have ever loved anyone or anything in this world. I want nothing more than to live the rest of my life making the both of you happy.”

“We love you, too, babe. So much. More than life.” Bucky reaches out and takes one of Steve’s hands in his. Steve’s other hand reaches into his pocket pulling out two little shield shaped key chains, two keys dangling from each one. He places one in my hand and one in Bucky’s.

I’m gawking wide eyed at the one in my hand, Bucky’s doing the same. After a moment we look at each other then gaze at Steve waiting for his explanation.

He laughs softly, awkwardly before finally taking a deep breath and releasing it in words. “IkindasortaboughtusabrownstoneinBrooklyn…”

“Wait. What the fuck did you just say?” I look at the keys in my hand and jingle them a little. The noise seems to wake him slightly and he sighs.

“I bought us a brownstone. A whole brownstone. I’ve had it renovated into a single dwelling. It’s in Brooklyn. It’s for the three of us to make a life in.” Steve sinks onto the sofa, his nerves getting the better of him. He watches us stand there, gaping like fish.

Bucky is the first to speak. “Stevie. Wow.” He immediately moves to Steve’s side and sits beside him. Bucky pulls Steve’s chin and makes him turn his head. “Baby, that’s incredible. I couldn’t be happier than I am right now.” He leans in and captures Steve’s lips with his own with a soft, precious kiss.

I’m nervously shifting from foot to foot as I stay rooted in place, still in shock. I keep fingering the keys in my hand and finally the boys realize I’ve not said anything.

“Doll? Are you alright?” Steve’s brows are pressed together in concern. His voice lowers, nearly shifting to Captain mode. “Melissa.” His voice cracks. “Say something. Please.”

Bucky reaches out for me, gesturing for me to come over. But I can’t. I can’t seem to move. Something’s wrong. My head… my chest. He’s instantly on his feet and so is Steve. My two giant bookends.

Bucky know. He knows. The panic attack is on me. Steve realizes it now, and they both stand coming over to me. I start panting and the hand with the keys goes to my chest. Bucky leans down and starts to murmur softly, “Angel. Take my hands.”

I hear him, I do. But it’s like a buzzing in my ears. He brings his hands to my arms and slowly runs them down the length before grasping my hands in his. Focus on his hands. Bucky’s hands. I grip them tight, squishing the keys between my flesh and his metal. They stab me and that brings me around to the present. My eyes snap to his, wide, and he’s grinning. “There she is. Hi, babydoll.”

He scoops me up and sits back on the sofa with me in his lap. In a flash, Steve is there beside us. His hands tentatively stroke my shoulders and when I moan a little he seems to relax and massage them in earnest. “You scared us, love.” Bucky’s hands find purchase on my hips.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why your gift, your huge, incredible gift set me off. I guess maybe…” I shake my head and close my eyes before I stammer, “I.. I d-don’t deserve you.”

Steves hands move to my cheeks and he pulls my gaze to his, “You deserve the world for how you’ve grounded me, made me happy, given me a life, a real life. But for now, a brownstone in Brooklyn where the three of us can be together is going to have to suffice.” He leans in and kisses the tip of my nose. “The world will come, Madame Rose. I’ll make sure of it.”

I giggle at the kiss and Bucky’s hands squeeze my hips, “Guys, we’ve got to get this show on the road. We can’t have the birthday boy be late for his own party.”

Steve and I snort together and l lean back to kiss Bucky’s lips before rising from his lap. He groans at the loss of contact for a second and I laugh, “You’ll have me in your lap again soon enough, babyboy. We’ll need to properly celebrate The Captain’s birthday later tonight, after all.”

I feel Steve’s hands grab my waist yanking me to where he’s still seated and I stand between his legs looking down on him. He’s grinning like an idiot, that Goddamn big goofy smile he wears when he’s happy beyond words. “God I love you, Melissa.”

My small hands cup his jaw as I press a soft, sweet kiss to his perfect, plump mouth. “I love you, too, Steven.” my hand shoots out, grabbing Bucky by his collar and pulling him to me before placing my lips against his, “And you, James. I love you, too.”

They both rise now and I straighten my dress, mess with my hair in the mirror above the entry table, open my clutch and drop the keys to the brownstone and the apartment inside. They meet me at the door as I’m opening it and suddenly I feel a smack on both my ass cheeks. I yelp, “What the-!” They’re both laughing as they shuffle me out the door.

The death of me.

[allonsy-allie]

The longest get to know me tag ever ✨

This one is so long and I procrastinated a lot, so it took me weeks to finish lmao. But it’s here now.

I’ve been tagged by both @floatingdownthemoonriver and @sugaidc (thank you Sofia and Lils).

the last… (it’s a song by Agust D............)

drink: water (stay hydrated everyone, don’t be a catcus) time you cried: ???????????????????? phone call: what is a phone call?? text message: @ my gc song you listened to: The 7th Sense - NCT U

have you…

dated someone twice: no kissed someone and regretted it: no been cheated on: no~ lost someone special: yes been depressed: every year gotten drunk and thrown up: no

list three favourite colours… purple, yellow, blue

in the last year have you…

made new friends: yes fallen out of love: also yes laughed until you cried: yes found out someone was talking about you: no, and I really don’t want to/don’t care met someone who changed you: nope found out who your friends are: sadly (???), yes kissed someone on your facebook list: nope

general…

how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: 50% of my friends list, I’d say do you have any pets: no :( do you want to change your name: not anymore, but when I were a kid I did want to change it or be called Maria (that’s my middle name) because I HATED how people would mispronounce (and misspell) my name all the goddamn time. also whenever I said my name, people would start singing this song by Julio Iglesias or this one by The Fevers, which to me that was as bad as mispronouncing my name. over time I just learnt to accept that’s my name and moved on (but I still get super pissed when anyone sing those songs to me, even though that they don’t say anything bad) what did you do for your last birthday: I went to Pizza Hut and then had expensive ice cream, the usual good stuff.  what time did you wake up: 6am without an alarm bc that’s something my anxiety does what were you doing at midnight last night: watching episode 12 of Fight for My Way name something you can’t wait for: to be financialy stable, to get my shit together when was the last time you saw your mom: I live with my mum so I see her all the time?/? what is one thing you wish you could change in your life: wow... so much stuff. I don’t even know where to begin... what are you listening right now: Meet me in the Hallway - Harry Styles have you ever talked to a person named tom: I’ve never even met someone named Tom something that is getting on your nerves: myself lmao most visited website: Tumblr, BTS subreddit, Facebook, YouTube, Twitter

about me…

mole/s: I’ve got a ~~beauty mark on my left cheek, also one on my belly... mark/s: I’ve got the smallest suture mark on the right side of my hips and a vaccine mark on my right arm. I used to have this weird mark on my left knee from when I fell while running when I was a kid, but it faded over time. childhood dream: I wanted to go to an art school and/or be an architect. also I wanted to be a polyglot lmao. that is possibly the only childhood dream that will actually come true (I’m just a language away from it). long or short hair: I like both. when I have long hair, I want to have short hair. and when I have short hair, I want to have long hair. it’s a vicious circle. do you have a crush on someone: no what do you like about yourself: how I didn’t give up even though I was told to... piercings: none. blood type: I’ve got NO IDEA. 26 years old, a FUCKTON of blood exams done, but NEVER one to tell my goddamn blood type. unbelievable. nickname: it varies?? my family and people close to my family will call me Naná (it’s just Nana, but the stress is on the last -na). real life friends and eveyrone else will most likely call me Nat/Nathy (that sounds more like “natchi” bc brazilian portuguese pronounciation is really funny), or try to come up with something, such as Thalie or Natha. Lastly, but not least, everyone on the internet knows me by Allie, with some exceptions (for exemple, Bee calls me Nanii) relationship status: what do you think? zodiac: leo as sun sign, cancer as moon sign, and scorpio as ascendant. it does say a lot about me... favourite tv show (s): Parks and Recreation and Gilmore Girls are my all-time favourites tattoos: none right or left hand: right. surgery: two times already, and I hope it stays like that hair dyed in different colour: does highlights count? sport: what the fuck is a sport? just kidding... I love swimming. I used to like running too (run run run). vacation: I never left Brazil :( pair of trainers: I don’t have any of those?

more general…

eating: I’m your local picky eater! carbs are love lmao. drinking: water, mint pineapple juice and passion fruit juice are my drink aesthetic. I’m about to: finally post this thing after it sat on my drafts for weeks waiting for: something good to happen this year istg want: a fuckton of things at the same time. get married: later, I guess. career: well, when I graduate uni I’ll officially be a librarian, that’s for sure. but idk, I still want to do something creative like design...

which is better…

hugs or kisses: hugs lips or eyes: neither. hands are better. older or younger: my rule goes 1 to 3 years older, 1 or 2 years younger. nice arms or nice stomach: the nicest arms possible sensitive or loud: a bit of both [1] hook up or relationship: why is this even a question? relationship troublemaker or hesitant: a bit of both [2]

have you ever…

kissed a stranger: nooooo drank hard liquor: nope lost glasses/contact lenses: I’ve lost my sunglasses once, does that count? I’ve never lost my glasses when I had to wear them turned someone down: probably? broken someone’s heart: nah... had your heart broken: yes been arrested: no cried when someone died: no, which made people say I was a cold-hearted person (and I hate it). I never cried, but I felt really numb and I didn’t know how to explain it fallen for a friend: don’t do that~

do you believe in…

yourself: there are times...                 miracles: yes love at first sight: kinda... santa claus: no???????????? kiss on the first date: no? angels: yes

other…

current best friends name: Bee (@dreamerbee) (and so it has been for over 10 years now!) and Sofia (@floatingdownthemoonriver) eye colour: brown favourite movie(s): 13 going on 30, Beginners, Elizabethtown, etc...

[evanstandefensesquad-blog]

Paper Moon Part 16

MB - @thecountessakasha - back again. I hope you’re ready for Part 16! There’s no smut, it’s literally all fluff, so apologies in advance.

I’m going to tag a couple people who I’ve told about this and my really special love who keeps betaing this for me @evansscruff - thank you, darling.

A/N: Bucky and Steve end up at a venue that has a 40s night and meet an OFC, Melissa Rose, a singer in a local club. They both are smitten by her, and start to vie for her affections. They end up finding out more about themselves in the process.

This honestly started out as maybe a one shot but as I got going, I decided it’ll be chapters. How many? No frigging idea. This is my absolute first time writing a fic of any sort and yes I did base the OFC on myself. I hope y'all enjoy.

Word count: 4100+ because I am a wordy bitch.

Warnings: FLUFF to the Goddamn max. Gonna rot your teeth. Panic attack. Oh, and cussing. Like always.

STEVE’S POV

Holy shit, I am so nervous. OK. OK, Steve. Calm down. It’s your birthday, it’s your party. It’ll be fine.

I’m pacing around my bedroom, wringing my hands. Tonight’s the night I tell Melissa and Bucky about what I’ve gotten for them. I love them. They love me. So why am I on pins and needles? I just want them to be happy. But this is huge. The three of us living together.

We practically do anyway. Whenever I’m not out on missions, I’m there with them at the apartment. I don’t think there’s been a night Bucky’s spent at the tower since the fateful day we took the big leap into this relationship.

Tony wanted a lavish affair tonight, so I’m in my blue tuxedo. As I finish with the buttons on my shirt, I feel my nervous tics start up: pacing. Brushing my hair to the side. Overthinking.

Neither Melissa nor Bucky are here. They’re both at her place, getting ready. She asked me to come over after I was done so that she could spend a little time with only us before the big shindig.

Grabbing the gift Bucky and I have for her and the one that I have for the pair, I head out to the elevator practically running over Natasha in the process and dropping the packages she had beautifully wrapped for us.

“Damn, I’m sorry Nat,” I mutter bending down to pick them up. She’s just standing there laughing at me.

“Jesus, Rogers. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous. Not even on your first date out of the ice.”

The boxes tremble in my hands. “Nat, this is a big deal. What if they say no? Well, I mean, Bucky probably won’t, but Melissa might. It was so hard on us, on her especially, when everything became public. What if she decides that this step is a step too far? That it’s all too much for her? I don’t think I can handle that kind of rejection.” I drop my eyes to the packages that I’m trying desperately not to crush in my large hands as my nerves begin to get the better of me.

Nat watches me, gauging her words carefully. She places a hand on my wrist, her voice soft. “Steve. It’s going to be fine. She loves you. She loves Bucky. She loves you both so deeply it’s honestly awe inspiring. I’ve never seen a woman with more capacity to love than her. You know she would do anything for you, right? For both of you. For either of you. She’s sacrificed so much to take a chance on a scary thing just to experience the love that you give back to her. To experience more love than she’s ever had in her entire life. Trust in that. Trust in the love you three share. You’ve got no reason to doubt her. She’s stuck with you this far. She’s not going anywhere.”

My eyes fill with tears at her words. I quickly swipe the cresting drops away from my face and nod. “You’re right. You’re right. It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be perfect.”

“Of course it is, old man.” The redhead’s hand smacks me on the shoulder as she laughs. “You’d better get going if you’re gonna head over there before the party starts.”

I give her a quick hug, “Thanks, Nat. And thanks for being such a good friend to her. She really loves you.”

“And I love her. And if you hurt her, either of you, I’ll hurt you.” She winks and disappears.

Damn, she’s scary when she wants to be. I love how protective she is of Melissa, though. It puts me at ease. If Bucky or I can’t be around, Melissa will be well looked after.

I gather myself, grab my jacket, tuck the boxes under my arm and head out of the tower on the way to Melissa’s place. With a spring in my step I reach the club, using my keys to slip in the front door. The owner is there, taking inventory behind the bar and he calls out to me. “Hey there Captain Rogers. Happy birthday! Thanks for the invite to the party tonight. I’ve always wanted to see the place.” He chuckles nervously and I reach out to shake his hand.

“It was absolutely no trouble. You’ve been wonderful to Melissa, wonderful to us. You’re more than welcome anytime, Johnny.” I give him a little salute as I head upstairs and he relaxes a little and gets back to his counting.

I reach the top step and make my way into the apartment. Tossing my keys into the bowl set upon the table by the door, I yell, “Honeys, I’m hooooooome!”

There’s a groan from the kitchen, and I turn to see Melissa rolling her eyes at me. “You are such a dork, Steven.” She shakes her head as she walks over to meet me.

As I take in the vision before me, I’m overcome. “My god you look incredible, Maîtresse.” She’s wearing a dress I’ve never seen-a dazzling, shimmering red floor length piece, tight around the bosom, dipping low in front and hugging her curves before flaring out at the hem. There’s a long slit up her right thigh, and the straps of the dress are thin spaghetti style. It shimmers in the light. She’s a little taller tonight because of the silver, strappy heels she’s wearing.

She stops and twirls around, her dark silver laced waves bouncing around her shoulders, “You really think so? It’s not too much? I don’t want to take any attention away from you, lover. It’s your party, after all.” She gives a small scoff, rolling her eyes.

I reach out for her hands, pulling her to me. I slide my fingers up her arms and over her shoulders, tracing the lines of her tattoos, fingertips sliding up her neck. She gives a soft moan at my touch, and I lean down to brush my lips against her jaw, “Oh, Melissa. When will you learn that you deserve the spotlight that you’re made for it?”

Her breath hitches as she melts at my words. She pulls me into a deep, lingering kiss, as her hands slide up and into the hair at the back of my neck. We’re getting lost in each other when we hear a voice. “Oh ho, starting without me, are we?”

Melissa and I giggle, smiling against each others mouths, and leave little soft kisses behind. She turns to look at the source of the voice. “Now, now, baby boy. Don’t get your boxers in a twist.”

Bucky looks devastatingly handsome in his black tux. He’s let his hair grow back out because Melissa likes it longer and it’s pulled back in a loose ponytail. There’s a smirk plastered on his face and he walks over to the pair of us with his characteristic swagger, “Then maybe you two should give me a kiss so’s I don’t feel left out.”

She snorts softly and pulls him down to her mouth roughly, claiming him with a searing kiss before releasing him so I can do the same. As he and I swirl our tongues around each other’s she murmurs, “Happy now, beloved?”

Bucky hums softly against my lips and nods, “Oh yeah. Definitely.”

She smacks him on the ass, which surprises him and causes him to yelp. “Now behave, brat. It’s Steve’s day.”

He rubs a hand over the cheek she swatted with a pout on his lips. “Yes ma'am.”

Melissa grabs my hand and Bucky’s metal one and tugs us over toward the living room. “Alright boys. Enough playing around. We don’t have a lot of time before we need to head to the tower and I have something I want to give the both of you.”

Bucky and I look at each other with matching surprised expressions as we sit down on the sofa together.

She disappears down the hall toward the bedroom. “Melissa. It’s Steve’s birthday, why did you get me something?” Bucky calls after her.

“Hush yer mouth, baby boy. You deserve a present, too.” she intones as she re-emerges holding two small boxes, one red and one blue.

Her small hands thrust the boxes at us, Bucky receiving the red one as I get the blue. She’s staring at us, wide eyed, looking nervous as she chews on her bottom lip. “Well, go on. Open ‘em up.”

We tear into the small packages then open the boxes. Inside each is a bracelet, small, made of what looks to be titanium. The one in Bucky’s box is black. Mine is brushed silver. Simple, yet very lovely. Next to each one, nestled in the cotton padding is a tiny screwdriver.

“I know neither of you are big on jewelry. But I really wanted to get you both something that you could keep with you. I wanted something small so that you could wear it with your uniforms and such. And I thought rings were too presumptive.” Melissa’s face colors brightly and she looks away from us.

She clears her throat, “So, I thought these would work. They’re low profile and being titanium they’ll hold up to wear and tear.” Her brows knit and she pauses a moment before continuing, “They’re also symbolic. Of me claiming the two of you as my own.”

We look at each other then back to her, smiles gracing both of our faces. “Beloved, I’m honored. Truth be told you, claimed me the night we met. I love you with all that I am.” Bucky holds the bracelet out to her with the screwdriver. “Please, Angel. I’m yours.”

Her small fingers shake as she opens the bracelet, then turns it to show him. “I’ve had them engraved. Bucky, you’re the light in the dark. You bring my nights back from the brink. You’re My Moon. Yours says Ma Lune.” She slides the small piece of metal around his right wrist and closes the latch by tightening the screw. Once she’s done, she kisses the palm of his hand.

“Steve, you are the brightest star I’ve ever known. You give your life and warmth to all those around you. You make me bloom. You’re My Sun. Yours says Mon Soleil.” With her fingers still shaking, she repeats the actions with my right wrist, sealing it with a kiss on my palm.

I cup her cheek and brush my thumb across the bone, “Maîtresse, I’ve been yours from the first night we spent together running the streets of the city without a care in the world. I fell so hard for you that night, I knew I could never look back. I love you more than life.” I pull her into my lap, kissing her hotly.

Bucky slides in next to us and starts kissing her shoulder. Melissa laughs softly against my mouth as his lips tickle her skin. “Now, now boys. We can’t be late for the party.”

He and I both groan in resignation, knowing she’s right. Besides, we still have to give her our present. “Fine, fine, doll. But Bucky and I have a gift for you as well.”

Her mouth drops open and she shakes her head, “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything, mes amours. I don’t need anything other than you two.”

I slide her off my lap and plop her onto Bucky’s so I can get up and grab the boxes I brought with me. His brows knit seeing two instead of one and I grin broadly at him.

The bigger one wrapped in matte black paper I set on the table. Handing her the long slender box wrapped in beautiful silver paper, I nod to her, “This is from me and Buck. We really hope you like it.”

BUCKY’S POV

I’m grinning from ear to ear as she holds the gift in her hand. She keeps shaking her head, “You boys really shouldn’t have gotten me anything. This is Steve’s special day, not mine.”

“Sugar, you got me a present today, too. So you’re not playing by the rules either.” I click my tongue at her.

She rolls her eyes as Steve laughs, “Alright fine!” Her fingers tear at the paper and when she reaches the box she opens it slowly, as if it contained something that might jump out and bite her. Finally she opens the box and gasps, her eyes meeting mine then Steve’s.

Melissa’s voice comes out nearly a whisper, “Oh my god, boys. This is… wow.” Her small fingers pluck the pretty, delicate chain and the dog tags out of the pile of cotton. “Are these…?”

“The originals? Oh yes. But we did have them plated in platinum so they would be more durable, and let’s be honest, prettier.” Steve is rubbing her arm lovingly as we watch tears gather in her eyes.

“This is so thoughtful and special. I am… I can’t believe you would give these to me.” The tears break through her lashes and drop onto her cheeks.

I reach out and brush them away. “Don’t cry, Angel. We thought it would make you happy. You understand what they mean more than anyone else would. How special it would be for you to wear one of each of ours. I already wear one of his and he wears one of mine. Now you get the other half. As it should be.”

She’s trembling as she unclasps the chain and lets Steve put it around her neck and refasten it for her. Once on, they rest just above her glorious breasts. Of course I noticed that. I’m old, not dead. And have you seen her? Jesus…

“My cup runneth over…” Melissa flings her arms around my neck, kissing me messily, full of the love she constantly shows us. She shifts on my lap to pull Steve into the same kind of kiss. She’s still choking back little sobs of happy tears when Steve pulls away.

“Since we’re doing the gift giving now, I have something else.” He reaches over to grab the other package he brought. “This is for the both of you.”

She and I turn to each other and she gestures for me to open it. I tear the paper off revealing a thin black box. Opening it, I see one of Steve’s sketchbooks. I immediately look up at him and he’s blushing brightly, “I… I’ve been drawing you two. That book is full of nothing but you and Melissa. Together and separately.”

Melissa takes the book out of the box and starts to flip through it. “Oh, Steven. These are beautiful.” She runs her fingers over a drawing of me, lounging on the sofa, and giggles. “Your natural habitat, baby boy.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” I roll my eyes and turn a couple pages. Here I see Melissa and myself in our little park, hidden from the world by our hoodies and baggy clothes and sunglasses. “Stevie, these are perfect. God, you are so talented. If you ever give up the shield you can open your own gallery. Speaking of which….” I glance at Melissa and she nods. I lift her up off of my lap and set her back on her feet while I go get the huge basket we’ve put together for him.

Steve’s eyes widen when he sees me come back in. “What did you two do?” Grinning, I set the basket down on the coffee table in front of him.

“Well, the first thing we did is clear out that far corner of the living room.” Steve’s eyes follow Melissa’s finger as she points over to the far side of the room. “You need a studio, so this is the best we could do for now. That’s your space. And to fill it, we got all these supplies for you.”

I pick up the basket once more and shove it at him. He’s stunned silent. I hear Melissa start to giggle softly as he finally takes it from me. “You two…” He shakes his head and starts to dig through the goodies. “You’re too good to me.”

“Steve, you deserve this and more. So much more.” I snatch the card out of the basket and slide it into his hand as I kiss the back of his neck. “This is from me, with a little help from Natalia and Tony.”

He opens the envelope and removes the card. Inside are the special tickets Natalia had printed up, and as he reads them over he gasps softly.

“Bucky, Oh my god. This is amazing!” He leans over and shows them to Melissa who whispers, “Wow.”

“It’s tomorrow night. Tony says even if a mission comes up, you’re off.” I’m beaming at him as he closes the gap between us, pulling me into his arms, wrapping me up tightly. We hug, just enjoying the feeling of each other as Melissa watches, her teeth pressed into her lower lip as the corners of her mouth curl into a soft smile.

Steve moves his hands to cup my jaw, “I can’t think of a better way to spend an evening than in the Museum of Modern Art with the two people I love more than life. Thank you, Buck.”

MELISSA’S POV

I cannot even express the joy and love I feel in this moment. Who knew I could ever be this happy? I certainly never believed I deserved it. But they’ve proven me wrong. And the continue to do so every day.

As Steve pulls away from Bucky he grabs my hand in his. He looks as if he wants to say something, but scared to do so.

“Steven, lover, what’s wrong?” I brush my thumb across the back of his hand watching his expression. He’s obviously fighting with himself in his head. My eyes shift to Bucky’s and I raise my shoulders a little as we exchange confused glances.

Steve clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck- a sign that he’s nervous. His cheeks color and he stammers out, “Guys, I… I’m real grateful you did all of this, working to provide me a makeshift studio here so that I could be with you more.”

“It was nothing, Steve. I wish we could have done more. I wish there was another room here, you could have it for your own.” I raise his hand to my cheek, letting him form his palm to it as I nuzzle into his touch. My fingers trace delicately on his wrist.

Bucky chuffs out, “Yeah, babe. We want you to be comfortable when you’re drawing, creating. To have everything here, organized so you can easily find what you need. We know how happy it makes you. We just wanted to facilitate that.”

He’s starting to pace now, pulling away from us both and shoves his hands in his pants pockets. I hear a jingle, like keys, and if I hear it I know Bucky does, too.

“Honey lamb, what is it? What’s wrong?” I watch Steve closely and his actions are starting to make me nervous. I move over to him placing my hands on his chest to stop his movements. “Spit it out, Steven.” My voice comes out a bit lower and more stern than I intended it to, but he needs the firmness.

He looks at me, beautiful blue eyes swimming with adoration. “I love you, Melissa. I love you and Bucky more than I have ever loved anyone or anything in this world. I want nothing more than to live the rest of my life making the both of you happy.”

“We love you, too, babe. So much. More than life.” Bucky reaches out and takes one of Steve’s hands in his. Steve’s other hand reaches into his pocket pulling out two little shield shaped key chains, two keys dangling from each one. He places one in my hand and one in Bucky’s.

I’m gawking wide eyed at the one in my hand, Bucky’s doing the same. After a moment we look at each other then gaze at Steve waiting for his explanation.

He laughs softly, awkwardly before finally taking a deep breath and releasing it in words. “IkindasortaboughtusabrownstoneinBrooklyn…”

“Wait. What the fuck did you just say?” I look at the keys in my hand and jingle them a little. The noise seems to wake him slightly and he sighs.

“I bought us a brownstone. A whole brownstone. I’ve had it renovated into a single dwelling. It’s in Brooklyn. It’s for the three of us to make a life in.” Steve sinks onto the sofa, his nerves getting the better of him. He watches us stand there, gaping like fish.

Bucky is the first to speak. “Stevie. Wow.” He immediately moves to Steve’s side and sits beside him. Bucky pulls Steve’s chin and makes him turn his head. “Baby, that’s incredible. I couldn’t be happier than I am right now.” He leans in and captures Steve’s lips with his own with a soft, precious kiss.

I’m nervously shifting from foot to foot as I stay rooted in place, still in shock. I keep fingering the keys in my hand and finally the boys realize I’ve not said anything.

“Doll? Are you alright?” Steve’s brows are pressed together in concern. His voice lowers, nearly shifting to Captain mode. “Melissa.” His voice cracks. “Say something. Please.”

Bucky reaches out for me, gesturing for me to come over. But I can’t. I can’t seem to move. Something’s wrong. My head… my chest. He’s instantly on his feet and so is Steve. My two giant bookends.

Bucky know. He knows. The panic attack is on me. Steve realizes it now, and they both stand coming over to me. I start panting and the hand with the keys goes to my chest. Bucky leans down and starts to murmur softly, “Angel. Take my hands.”

I hear him, I do. But it’s like a buzzing in my ears. He brings his hands to my arms and slowly runs them down the length before grasping my hands in his. Focus on his hands. Bucky’s hands. I grip them tight, squishing the keys between my flesh and his metal. They stab me and that brings me around to the present. My eyes snap to his, wide, and he’s grinning. “There she is. Hi, babydoll.”

He scoops me up and sits back on the sofa with me in his lap. In a flash, Steve is there beside us. His hands tentatively stroke my shoulders and when I moan a little he seems to relax and massage them in earnest. “You scared us, love.” Bucky’s hands find purchase on my hips.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why your gift, your huge, incredible gift set me off. I guess maybe…” I shake my head and close my eyes before I stammer, “I.. I d-don’t deserve you.”

Steves hands move to my cheeks and he pulls my gaze to his, “You deserve the world for how you’ve grounded me, made me happy, given me a life, a real life. But for now, a brownstone in Brooklyn where the three of us can be together is going to have to suffice.” He leans in and kisses the tip of my nose. “The world will come, Madame Rose. I’ll make sure of it.”

I giggle at the kiss and Bucky’s hands squeeze my hips, “Guys, we’ve got to get this show on the road. We can’t have the birthday boy be late for his own party.”

Steve and I snort together and l lean back to kiss Bucky’s lips before rising from his lap. He groans at the loss of contact for a second and I laugh, “You’ll have me in your lap again soon enough, babyboy. We’ll need to properly celebrate The Captain’s birthday later tonight, after all.”

I feel Steve’s hands grab my waist yanking me to where he’s still seated and I stand between his legs looking down on him. He’s grinning like an idiot, that Goddamn big goofy smile he wears when he’s happy beyond words. “God I love you, Melissa.”

My small hands cup his jaw as I press a soft, sweet kiss to his perfect, plump mouth. “I love you, too, Steven.” my hand shoots out, grabbing Bucky by his collar and pulling him to me before placing my lips against his, “And you, James. I love you, too.”

They both rise now and I straighten my dress, mess with my hair in the mirror above the entry table, open my clutch and drop the keys to the brownstone and the apartment inside. They meet me at the door as I’m opening it and suddenly I feel a smack on both my ass cheeks. I yelp, “What the-!” They’re both laughing as they shuffle me out the door.

The death of me.

Tagging:

@alievans007 @buckysbackpackbuckle @justareader @anice-1 @hardcollectiontrashworld @mewsiex @siren-kitten-his Thanks everyone!

[nox-bones]

Kinda gets depressing and personal, might delete later. Super long post. TW’s in the tags.

I don’t fit in with my family. I never have. I’ve always been isolated from everyone. My biological father has never truly wanted or loved me, not the in ways a child needs. My stepfather never had a daughter before me, which somehow led to him not really knowing how to have a father-daughter relationship with me. My brother used to want to kill me, even attempted to in the past, and would always tell me his life would be better without me in it. My own mother, who carried me and fed me and physically nurtured me, was never there for me emotionally - and whenever I had issues she would tell me “you’re too young to have problems”, and now acts like I’m nothing more than a burden to her and the family.

She called me a free-loader today. Had a lot of pent up frustrations she let out on me, and told me how I’m basically doing nothing with my life and going nowhere. She said how she and my stepdad want me gone, that enough is enough and she feels like she must resort to “tough love” - because she thinks it will help kick me into gear or something. A lot of things she mentioned I agree and it made sense - I currently live with my parents for free. I don’t pay them rent, and I still don’t pay my own bills (aside from like, my phone and other things). So, I get that. I do, but what I don’t get is why she thinks yelling at me and telling me how I’m living my life wrong and not doing anything good with myself is going to help me to be better. It only fuels me to want to pack all my shit and leave forever - even if doing that killed me. 

That used to be what drove me to suicidal tendencies - my family. Being around them makes me feel lost and alone and misunderstood; not to mention unloved and unwanted. I honestly don’t think anyone in my family actually likes me, despite being family. Which I get, yeah, you don’t have to like your family just because they’re blood - but what about unconditional love and support? Aren’t family members supposed to provide that, especially parents (to their children), to each other? I get that we’re adults now, but we’re still their kids. Doesn’t that count for anything? Or is it like someone who likes puppies but once the puppies are grown up, they get rid of them for more puppies? My mom desperately wants to be a Nana, so it kinda makes sense.

Back to what I was saying though, they’re what always made me feel sick and wanting to end my life. I feel trapped - my life perpetually spinning out of control and into chaos, even when things start to improve. I need to get out, but I can’t. The only true way out is death, but then, that’s also the easy way out. And I know very well that not even Death wants me (Death has denied me several times already in my life). Still, it crosses my mind...a lot. Even though I keep that to myself. When I open up to people about having those kinds of thoughts, they always get mad. Like, I can’t help it that I feel like giving up is my only option when literally I try to change and nothing happens. It’s the same shit over and over. I’m sorry, but dying always finds it’s way back to me as a means of escaping this hell of a life I’m stuck in.

I’m so terrible at voicing my emotions/feelings/thoughts/ideas/etc. I internalize everything - say for these types of posts...writing has alwasy been the easiest way for me to talk - all because of how I was raised. My parents always taught me to be the “strong one” because I’m the “older one” and how I have to always please everyone else. I can’t be selfish. I can’t show fear. I can’t cry in front of others because others have their own shit to deal with and don’t want to deal with mine too. That’s how I became isolated. I felt abandoned by my own parents. As a small child, a small little kid who didn’t understand how the world worked or how shitty life could be, was taught that being alone and feeling abandoned was the right way to live. When I was a small kid, my parents worked a lot, and I don’t ever remember them being home (home videos show otherwise but yeah). I only remember pain, being alone, being yelled at, being ignored and then yelled at for asking for attention. I remember my parents arguing and separating. I couldn’t show my emotions so I hid them. I seemed tough. My parents thought my transition through the divorce was good, because I didn’t react - little did they know I developed a mental disorder that would shape the rest of my life and “personality”.

It was the same all the time too - my parents ignored me, belittled me, yelled at me, made me fear them and submit, controlled me, manipulated me. As parents they abandoned me. My dad didn’t want me unless I wanted to do what he wanted to do, and when I was a teenager blamed me for us not having a relationship instead of owning up to his own fatherless actions towards his child. My mother conveniently doesn’t remember ever telling me that if I talk about suicide that I’d end up in an insane aslyum, locked up in a room with padded white walls and a straight-jacket. She conveniently doesn’t recall any of the times she’s belittled me and put me down for being emotional, or overall being a shitty mother. Sometimes she acts like she’s aware, but then gets into the whole “woe is me I’m a terrible mom” to try and get pity, or sympathy, or whatever. To which I always responded “no you’re not” but maybe I should just say “yes you are” and see what she fucking says.

Today my mom ranted to me, as I stated earlier, and let all of her recent frustrations out on me. Just yelling at me. I stayed silent. I couldn’t respond. Why should I? She had a few fair points but overall I didn’t really care to listen to her whining and pissy attitude. She even called me Melissa instead of Charlotte. Showing me disrespect right off the bat doesn’t get you anywhere. I stood there and listened to all the bullshit she spewed out from her lips. “I’m so sick of seeing you do nothing with your life” Bitch I fucking went back to school and got a fucking STATE LICENSE and have an actual career now. I have fucking PLANS to move out with the only goddamn person on this planet that truly fucking loves and cares about me. SO WHAT if I haven’t gotten there yet? At least I have something going for me, and meanwhile your son is doing what? Going out every chance he gets - like he enjoys being around you too - working at a restaurant not doing what he wants to do, also spending his money like drinking water, has zero plans about moving out, has zero respect for everyone in this house...Need I go on? Do I ever hear you getting onto HIS ass about not paying bills or rent or going out all the time or work or spending money or just about everything ever? No. Never. Maybe once in a blue moon, but then what? 

I can’t fucking do this anymore. I can’t live here. I need to get out. Like, before I turn 25 (August), but preferrably I’d like to move out way before then. I know money is an issue and I won’t be able to to afford it (especially because I have a dog), but if I live here another three months I may not make it to my twenty-fifth birthday. I positiviely C A N N O T stay here anymore. I NEED to get away from all this stress and negativity and abuse and cluster fuck of a group of people I am supposed to call my “family”. I feel like I’m going insane. I need to get out. ASAP.