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#I JUST noticed the movie is problematic but I didn’t know so ignore it
spnhunter4life · 1 year
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Two Minutes to Midnight
Summary: Y/n is out for a fun day with Sam when things take a turn for the worse. Desperate for help, they turn to Castiel for answers. But how helpful will the unreliable angel be?
Word Count: 5.5k
A/N: My first time writing Cas! As you can tell, I went with the seasons 4 and 5 socially awkward, only moderately helpful Castiel. That's my favorite version of him. I've had this idea floating around for quite a while and I finally got around to writing it. This isn't my favorite thing I've written by any means, but I'm happy enough with it and figured since I took the time to write it, I might as well post it. Hope everyone enjoys!
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Sam, Dean and I were at Bobby’s, taking a couple days of downtime. Dean had been hard at work giving the Impala some routine maintenance – his version of relaxing – and Bobby was busy doing research for a case, so Sam and I had taken one of Bobby’s functioning old junk cars into town to go see a movie, something we rarely got the chance to do. Dean had originally been planning to come with us, but opted out when he realized we were set on watching a documentary.
Our movie finished just after six so we were on our way to grab some food for everybody when it started. I gasped out loud at the sudden painful ache in my chest. I wished I could take back my reaction after the initial shock of it wore off. It wasn’t so bad. It could definitely be ignored. Sam had already been alerted that something wasn’t right though and asked about it. 
I brushed it off, telling him everything was fine. We walked to a diner and put in an order of food to go and then settled into stools at the bar to wait. But by the time our food was ready twenty minutes later, it was getting a lot harder to ignore. Sam noticed and seemed concerned, but I waved him off again. 
The drive back to Bobby’s finally pushed things over the edge into problematic territory.
“Sam. Something’s wrong,” I said through gritted teeth when we were still about ten minutes away. 
“What’s going on?” He asked, looking at me in alarm. 
“I don’t know. My chest hurts. It’s getting a little hard to breathe.”
“Why did you keep telling me nothing was wrong?” He hissed out in frustration.
“Wasn’t that bad,” I told him. “Thought it would go away. But it’s getting worse.”
He looked over at me, eyes full of worry, and then pushed the old car to go faster.
~~~~~
The door rebounded against the wall with a bang as Sam carelessly threw it open. My arm around his neck and his arm wrapped tightly around my waist was the only reason I was still standing.
“What the hell happened?!” Bobby demanded, jumping to his feet and rushing over to help. He put his own arm around me and together they helped me over to the couch. I immediately rolled onto my side, curling into myself in a futile attempt to stop the pain that had spread throughout my whole body.
“I don’t know!” Sam answered, sounding a little panicked. “She was fine and then she was just in pain all of a sudden! I asked her about it and she said she was fine. But it’s obviously getting worse.”
“Alright, settle down now. We need to stay calm. We won’t solve anything if we’re not thinking straight,” Bobby said. “Now think. Did you guys see anything strange? Did you come across anyone who seemed a little suspicious? Was there anything that caught your attention?”
“No, there wasn’t anything. We didn’t even talk to anyone except the waiter at the diner,” Sam said.
“Y/N? Can you think of anything Sam’s forgetting?” 
I searched my memory as best I could, but it was really hard to concentrate. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been in this much pain.
“I don’t know,” was all I could manage to say.
“Ok. Well we’ll just-”
“Wait!” Sam interjected. “There was that guy. You bumped into him on the sidewalk. I mean we didn’t think anything of it, but what if…” He came over and started carefully patting me down, checking my pockets and apologizing as he did it. 
“Damn it. No hex bag,” he said. “It had to be him though. I mean, who else could it be? I’m gonna get Dean. We should go track him down.”
“Now hold on a minute,” Bobby warned. “Could be this has got nothing to do with anybody. She might just be sick.”
“Bobby, what sort of sickness affects a person this way?” Sam scoffed.
“I ain’t a doctor, and last I checked, neither are you! Now go get your brother. Maybe we can get Cas to come take a look at her.” 
Sam hesitated for a moment but then relented and walked out the still open door to bring Dean in.
“Alright, just breathe now,” Bobby said to me in a calm voice. My breaths were coming out in gasps, each inhale making the pain in my chest worse. It felt like someone was trying to twist a knife straight into my heart. He brushed the loose hair away from my face and then placed the back of his hand against my forehead. His brow wrinkled in concern.
“You feel a bit warm,” he told me. “I’m going to grab you a cool rag.”
He went to the kitchen and I closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything else. I opened my eyes a moment later, alerted by a breeze, to see Dean’s quirky angel friend standing over me with his head cocked, looking at me in that strange way he did. He walked over and placed his hand on my head.
Sam and Dean came barreling through the door a second later.
“Y/N!” Dean called out as he ran towards me, stopping an arm’s length away. “What’s wrong with her Cas?”
I gasped out in relief, the pain receding back from my limbs until it only remained in my chest. I saw Bobby come back in the room, a washcloth in his hands.
“How’d you know?” I asked Cas. He had his eyes closed in concentration.
“I heard Dean’s prayer.” 
Sam must have seemed worried enough that Dean didn’t even wait to reach me before asking the angel for help.
“What’s wrong with her?” Dean demanded, anxiously watching Cas work.
“I’m ok, Dean,” I told him.
“No you’re not! Sam said he had to practically carry you in here!”
“Really. I’m feeling better. Whatever Cas is doing is helping.” Cas whipped his head towards me at that statement.
“I’m not doing anything,” he contradicted me. 
“What? Then why am I feeling better all of a sudden?” I asked.
“You feel completely better?” Bobby asked.
Cas removed his hand and took a step back. He looked at me expectantly.
“Not completely. My chest still hurts, but everything else feels better and it’s a little easier to breathe. It got better when Cas touched me. You really weren’t doing anything?”
“I was simply assessing your condition. I did nothing to relieve your pain,” he informed me.
“Well then what’s wrong with her? And why’s it suddenly getting better?” Bobby asked. 
That’s what I wanted to know. I wasn’t exactly prone to sporadic outbursts of extreme pain. Clearly there was something wrong with me, whether it was supernatural or medical, I had no clue. I needed an explanation though, because even though the pain was better, it was still intense and I wasn’t having the easiest time focusing on the conversation.
“Where does it hurt?” Cas ordered more than asked.
“Right now?” He nodded. “Just my chest. Before you got here it was everything.”
“But where on your chest? I need you to be precise.”
“Right here,” I answered, pointing to right above my heart, the place the pain was radiating out from.
“That’s where the pain originated? And then it started to spread and get worse?” 
At my confirmation he looked at every person in the room, lingering on me the longest.
“I have a theory.” 
Everyone waited for him to elaborate further, but he just continued to stare at me curiously, the way he often looked at people. Like he was seeing something for the first time that he’d only ever heard about before.
“Which is?” Dean snapped, his patience wearing thin.
“Perhaps we should discuss this matter in private,” Cas suggested.
“Private? Everyone is going to find out eventually. And I don’t want to leave her right now. Just tell us,” Dean ordered.
“I wasn’t suggesting you leave her,” Cas answered. “I was speaking to Sam.”
“So I don’t get to know what’s going on? And what about Y/N? She’s the one suffering right now. You’re not even going to explain why or how to help her?” Dean snapped.
Cas didn’t even answer. He just walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, telling Sam to come with him. Sam looked a little torn. After a second’s hesitation, he gave an apologetic smile and followed after the angel.
“Don’t worry. Sam’ll tell us everything we need to know,” Bobby said.
“I don’t like how evasive Cas is being,” Dean sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and came to sit on the coffee table. “Are you still feeling better?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. Thanks for calling Cas.”
Dean snorted.
“Not that he’s being any help. You’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he worried. “How bad was it before if this is better?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I told him.
“Bobby,” Sam called from the kitchen. We all looked over to see him motioning the older hunter over. Bobby sighed.
“Here,” he said, handing the washcloth he’d grabbed earlier to Dean. “Try and cool her down a bit. She felt awful hot when I touched her.”
I thanked Bobby as he left the room. A cool rag did sound kind of nice, although I wasn’t sure how much it would really help.
Dean grabbed my hand in a comforting gesture and then pressed the back of his hand to my forehead to confirm Bobby’s statement. And just like that, the pain was gone. I let out a relieved sigh. It wasn’t immediate. It was slow enough that I could feel it as it lessened and then disappeared, but quick enough that the whole thing happened in a matter of seconds. Dean had a much different reaction. He hissed and quickly replaced his hand with the washcloth. 
“This is really not good,” he muttered.
I couldn’t decide if I agreed with him or not. On the one hand, the absence of pain after going so long with it being so intense was indescribable, and I was so grateful it was gone. On the other, it must have something to do with Dean. The pain went away the second he touched me. Why? How was that possible and what did it mean?
I looked up into the kitchen where Bobby stood with his arms crossed and Sam was wearing a big frown. I could hear enough of their tone to know they were having an argument. I couldn’t hear what they were saying though.
In the end, guilt won out. I couldn’t just sit here letting Dean worry about me because I was too scared to admit what just happened.
“That helps. A lot,” I told him.
“Not enough. You’re burning up. I mean, you’re dangerously hot. Cas!” He yelled, fed up with waiting. “We need solutions here.”
“No, Dean. I mean it doesn’t even hurt anymore,” I told him, sitting up.
Three pairs of feet shuffled in from the kitchen and three sets of eyes looked between me and Dean. Sam and Bobby looked frustrated, but resigned. 
“What’s going on?” Bobby asked. But by his tone of voice, I thought it seemed like he already knew the answer.
“I don’t know. I feel better,” I told him.
“How can you just feel better all of a sudden? Especially when you’re this hot? We need better than a wet rag Bobby, we need ice,” Dean said. “I mean, she’s-” he cut himself off when he removed the rag and felt my forehead again. “I don’t get it. Ten seconds ago you were practically on fire.”
“I don’t get it either,” I said, conveniently failing to mention Dean’s apparent role in my recovery. Not out of embarrassment or anything like that, but because I couldn’t come up with a way to say it that wouldn’t make me sound crazy.
Dean let go of my hand and dropped his head. He ran both hands through his hair, took a deep breath, and then stood up. He marched right over to Cas.
“What’s going on here? What was your theory that for some reason we couldn’t hear, and why is she better all of a sudden?”
“Dean. It doesn’t matter. Just let it go,” I begged. But as I said it, I thought I noticed the pain coming back. It was faint, but it was definitely there. I whimpered a little, not wanting to go through that again.
“No, it does matter!” He insisted at the same time Cas said, “She’s not better.”
Dean took a second to process.
“What did you just say?” Dean asked.
“I said she’s not better. And I can’t tell you what’s going on.”
“Dean,” I winced. The pain was quickly returning, almost back to the level it had been at before Cas got here.
“No. Look, I’m sorry that no one else seems to care what’s going on here, but I do!” 
“Dean,” Sam said firmly. When Dean turned an angry glare at him, he nodded towards the couch. Towards me. Dean turned and saw me curled up on my side again.
“What is even the point of having an angel around if you’re always going to be so useless? I’m begging for your help here, man. Do you not see how much pain she’s in?” Dean pleaded. 
“Of course I see it.”
“Then why aren’t you doing anything about it?!” Dean shouted. 
Cas was quiet for a minute, looking almost regretful.
“I’m sorry, Dean. Truly, I am. But I can’t help. Any intervention on my part will only make things worse. You have to figure it out for yourself.”
I watched through teary eyes as Dean clenched his fists a few times. Knowing him, he was debating whether or not to punch Cas.
“Dean,” I called for him again. 
He let out an angry breath and then came to sit beside me. 
“It’s ok. I’m right here. We’ll figure it out,” he told me. He lifted my head and placed it in his lap, running a hand soothingly through my hair. I let out a deep breath.
“Why does Dean make it better?” I asked. I no longer cared if it sounded insane. This was the second time his touch erased the pain. It couldn’t be a coincidence. And if he was the only way I could get any relief, I wasn’t going to hide the fact from him.
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
“When you touch me, the pain goes away,” I told him. And then turning to Cas I again asked why.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I need to go. But I can tell you this much. You have a six hour window from the start of symptoms. Based on what Sam has told me, you only have about four more hours before this becomes fatal. I’ll be back to check on you.” And then he was gone.
“Cas, you’re the most useless son of a bitch I ever met,” Dean fumed.
“Fatal?” I questioned, trying to be sure I heard him right. I sat up and took Dean’s hand in order to keep physical contact.
“I’m afraid so,” Bobby said sympathetically. “I wish we could help. Believe me, I do. But Cas pretty well tied our hands.”
“Then untie them,” Dean ordered.
“We can’t. He made it pretty clear that you two have to figure it out on your own. If we help then it doesn’t count and we can’t save Y/N,” Sam said apologetically.
“It’s ok,” I said to a panicky Dean. “It’s not the first time we’ve been in circumstances like this. We’ll figure it out.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you?” He asked.
I just smiled.
“I honestly think this hurts you more than it hurts me.” And I didn’t doubt the truth of those words. Dean cared and felt things more deeply than anyone I’d ever known. When someone he cared about was in pain, so was he.
“Let’s just get you better,” he said.
~~~~~
We spent the next three hours scouring every lore book we could get our hands on. Bobby had an impressive collection, but it wasn’t proving useful. A couple of times Sam would watch us for a few minutes looking like he wanted to say something. Bobby always hushed him before he could though, and after about an hour, the two of them decided to leave. Bobby said since they couldn’t help us anyway, they might as well give us some space and remove the temptation to just give us the answer.
Dean and I had been very careful to stay together. He never left my side for more than a minute, and only when we needed more books to look through. We’d held hands for a while, but when both of our palms started to get sweaty, we experimented a little with how much contact was necessary. We discovered that sitting pressed up against each other, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder, worked fine. 
Impending death unless we could figure out a cure aside, I thoroughly enjoyed this time with Dean. Working together and being so close was nice. And if the minor crush I had on him caused my brain to go a little overboard with the release of dopamine, who was it hurting?
But when the three hour mark hit, the pain started to make a reappearance, despite Dean and me currently touching. I shifted uncomfortably which of course Dean immediately noticed. 
“Are you ok?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I assured him. “Just… it’s starting to hurt again.”
He grabbed my hand.
“Is that any better?”
I waited a few seconds, but it wasn’t getting any better. I reluctantly told him so. Dean bit his lip as he glanced at the clock. It was 11. One hour left.
“We’re running out of time. Maybe that’s why. We just need to hurry up. Can you still help?” 
“Yeah,” I told him. “It’s not that bad.”
“Ok. I’m gonna get some more books,” he warned me. I nodded in understanding and he hurried over to Bobby’s bookshelf. He was less selective than he had been in previous trips, just grabbing up an armful of the first books he found. By the time he got back to the couch I was gritting my teeth, trying to hold back a pained noise.
“Ok, here we go. Keep looking,” he instructed me as he sat beside me and grabbed my hand. It helped, but the pain didn’t fade entirely the way it had before. I did my best to ignore it, focusing on the book in front of me.
The pain got steadily worse. Dean took his jacket and flannel off, pressing our bare arms together in the hopes that more skin on skin contact would help. It didn’t. I really tried to help, but within ten minutes I was no longer processing the words I was reading, my mind too distracted. After half an hour I was back to the excruciating level of pain I’d been at when Sam dragged me through Bobby’s door. I was laying down again, my feet in Dean’s lap. Dean was in a panic.
“That’s it. I’m calling Bobby,” he said decidedly, standing up and fishing in his pocket.
“No. Don’t. He can’t help. And you’ll only worry them,” I managed to grit out.
“Well there’s certainly reason to worry!” Dean yelled. “Y/N, I don’t know what else to do! I can’t just sit here and watch you die!”
“Come here.”
“What’s the point? It’s not helping anyway. I just- I’ve gotta do something. I’ve gotta-”
“Please,” I said. He let out a frustrated growl, but relented. He knelt on the floor by my head and ran a hand through my hair. 
“Cas, if you don’t do something to help real soon, I’ll never forgive you,” Dean threatened. “Come on you son of a bitch. After everything we’ve been through, this is really how you want things to end?”
We waited, but Cas didn’t come.
“Dean,” I said.
“Don’t worry,” he told me, fresh determination in his eyes. But also fear and doubt. “I’m going to fix this. I don’t know how. But I will,” he promised.
“Dean, just listen to me,” I said. “There’s something I want to say to you.” I was interrupted by a particularly bad wave of pain washing through my body. I tried to be quiet, but a whimper worked its way past my lips. Dean squeezed my hand through it, the only comfort he could offer. “I know this is… really crappy timing,” I told him through my sobs. “But I need you to know.”
“Y/N. Don’t,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he could tell what I was about to say or was just protesting what he clearly knew I considered to be my deathbed confession.
“I love you,” I said anyway. “And I’m sorry to put that on you. But I needed you to know.”
Dean was crying now too, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
“And that’s exactly why I have to save you,” he said. “Because I love you too.”
His lips closed over mine. He kissed me gently, as if afraid of hurting me. The pain intensified and I groaned. Dean immediately stood up and grabbed his phone out of his pocket. Then it started to fade away. I imagined I could feel five different lines of pain – each branching out in a different direction – start to disappear. Starting at the ends of my limbs, it worked its way inwards towards my heart. And then it was gone.
“Dean, wait,” I said. He ignored me and continued pacing as he dialed. I sat up first, and then I stood. Dean stopped moving, looking at me in surprise.
“It’s better,” I told him. “Ok? See? I’m up. And you’re not even touching me and I’m ok.”
“You’re ok,” he repeated, a little dumbfounded. He dropped his phone and rushed to me, wrapping me up in a hug so tight I worried I was about to lose my newly regained ability to breathe. “Don’t you ever do that to me again,” he breathed out, pressing a relieved kiss to my temple.
We spent a few minutes just holding each other before Dean, somewhat reluctantly, let go of me. 
“We should call Sam and Bobby. Let them know you’re alright,” he said, picking his phone up off the floor.
“Yeah. We should,” I agreed. “I guess they’re probably pretty worried.”
Dean finished dialing the number he’d started to punch in earlier and I listened to the very short conversation that followed.
“Sam. Yeah, she’s better. You guys can come back now.”
He hung up the phone, hung his head, and took a deep breath, releasing the rest of the stress from his body. Then he turned to look at me. He smiled wryly before walking over and pulling me into another hug. I pressed my cheek against his chest, and he buried his face in my hair. I felt his chest rumbling when he spoke.
“You owe me. I haven’t decided what yet, but you owe me big. You just put me through enough stress to knock at least five years off my life.”
I just smiled, able to laugh about it now that it was over.
“I know,” I told him.
“I don’t think you do. I don’t think you can even begin to understand how scared I was,” he said.
“Yes I can,” I disagreed. I pulled away from him slightly and turned my face up to look at him. “I can imagine exactly how scared I would have been if the situation was reversed.”
He let out a deep sigh and pressed our foreheads together before tilting his chin down to connect our lips in another kiss. Now that the pain was gone, I was able to appreciate the softness of his lips. I wanted more, and I tried to deepen the kiss a little, but he pulled away. Before I could ask why, I got my answer in the form of the sound of the door opening.
“Never again,” Dean repeated in a playful, but very serious, tone. Then he took a step back just as Sam and Bobby walked in the room. “You two sure got here fast,” he remarked.
“We only went a mile down the road,” Bobby said. “We wanted to be able to get here quickly if we needed to.”
“Why? I thought you couldn’t help anyway,” he countered, standing with his arms crossed now.
“Dean,” I warned.
“No, I wanna know what exactly was so dangerous about them telling us what to do. Which, by the way, I still don’t understand what made you miraculously better all of a sudden.”
“It’s called an amare,” said a deep voice behind us. We both whirled around to see Cas standing there.
“And where exactly have you been?” Dean growled out. “I asked you for help Cas, and you abandoned us.”
“I was tracking it down. It’s been safely delivered up to the custody of Heaven,” he answered.
Dean clenched his jaw.
“Ok. So now that everything is over, explain. What is it? Why couldn’t anyone tell us anything?”
“Amares are… for lack of a better explanation, rogue cupids. They wander around looking for people who are in love but hiding the fact from the person they are in love with. When they find such a person, they infect them with a toxin. All it takes is one touch to infect their target.”
“That guy you bumped into on the sidewalk,” Sam said.
“Yes,” Cas confirmed “Whether the couple is a pair Heaven wants together or not, they don’t care. And as you’re aware, they don’t give you an easy moment of falling in love as cupids should. It’s extremely painful and oftentimes fatal since the victims rarely even get a chance to make it better. Their solution is always to go to the hospital which of course is useless.”
“What makes it better?” Dean asked again. 
“Seeing as Y/N is fully recovered, I would assume you know the answer to that.”
“Well I don’t. One minute I thought she was about to die and the next she was fine. Explain that,” he demanded.
I shifted on my feet a little, curious about the answer myself. 
“Y/N knows,” Cas said, noticing my discomfort. Dean turned to me.
“Y/N?” He asked, sounding a little betrayed.
“Well…” I started unsurely. I had a theory, but I didn’t want to admit it out loud. It was too ridiculous. Even by our standards.
“If you knew how to make it better the whole time, why did you put me through that? Why did you put yourself through that?”
“I didn’t know how to make it better! I just… well it seems kind of obvious. And extremely crazy at the same time,” I said, explaining my hesitation to answer. Dean was looking at me expectantly, waiting on an answer. I sighed. “It’s a direct cause and effect situation. When you touched me, it made the pain go away, right? Even if just temporarily?”
“Yeah…” Dean answered, not seeing where I was going with this.
“So…” I prompted. “What happened right before I started to feel better?”
I watched the wheels turning in his head as he thought back. I saw the moment it clicked for him, and he looked at me doubtfully.
“You really think-”
“I told you it was crazy,” I said a little defensively.
“It’s not crazy,” Cas said. “Why do you think you humans have all those fairytales about true love’s kiss?”
“Wait, so you’re saying-” Sam started, but was interrupted.
“Not literally,” Cas said. “There’s no such thing as true love. There’s just people falling in love. Some are more compatible than others of course. But legends exist for a reason. There’s always truth to them. They’re a warning and a guide.”
“So you’re telling me that Snow White was made up as a warning about the amare?” I asked incredulously. “It’s not exactly a legend, it’s a children’s story.”
“And who should be warned about the dangers of the world if not children?” Cas said.
“Alright, fine. In this scenario Y/N was Snow White and I was… Prince Charming, apparently,” Dean summarized, rolling his eyes a little. “How does kissing her make her better?” His patience was wearing extremely thin, especially with the somewhat ridiculous turn this conversation had taken and how long it was taking to get answers.
“When an amare infects someone, it specifically targets the cure of the toxin to the DNA of the other person. This is why your touch and even your presence was able to help. But it is only your saliva that can break down the toxin completely, which is where the kiss comes in.”
I wrinkled my nose a little at his word choice. It just sounded so clinical and… really not romantic. Not that we had been in what I would consider a romantic situation anyway, but… I don’t know. For some reason talking about saliva made it weird.
“And no one could tell us this because?” Dean asked again.
“Apparently once they infect someone, they stick around to keep a close eye on them,” Sam explained. “They have a certain amount of control over the toxin. If anyone interferes, they’ll change the DNA sequence it’s been coded to so that the person can’t be saved.”
“Why?” I asked. “What’s the point? Just to hurt people?”
“No. Despite their unsanctioned methods, they are still cupids doing what cupids were meant to do. Their goal is to bring people together,” Cas answered.
“And they’ve got a great way of making it happen,” Bobby muttered.
“Ok, answer me this Cas,” Dean said. “If those things stay close to the people they infect and you left to track it, why did it take you so long to find it?”
“It didn’t. I found him very quickly.”
“Then why didn’t you-”
“Because that would be interfering. I had to wait until Y/N was better.”
“Thanks for your help Cas,” I said. I could admit that I had felt a little abandoned before, but now that I had all the answers, I could see he was honestly just trying to help. I knew it would be a while before Dean calmed down enough to see that.
“Of course,” he said. Then he disappeared again.
“He’s not really one for unnecessary conversation, is he?” I commented.
Bobby snorted and Sam grinned, pulling me into a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re ok,” he said. “You had me so worried.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I told him.
Sam let me go and Bobby affectionately patted me on the shoulder.
“Don’t apologize,” Dean said. “It’s not your fault.”
“Actually, apparently it is. Both of your faults in fact. At least a little bit,” Sam teased.
“Yes. Because I knew that I was going to be targeted by an amare,” I said sarcastically.
“Well, lesson learned,” Sam replied. “When you get tired of this idiot and move on to someone else, be sure to tell the guy how you feel.”
I huffed out a quiet, tired laugh.
“Yes, well. If I get tired of him, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” I said. “It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted, so goodnight everyone,” I said as I headed for the stairs.
I took a quick shower and had just finished changing into shorts and a tank top for bed when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened and Dean took a step inside, hovering in the doorway.
“Hey, uh… is it alright if I join you?” He asked. I smiled at his obvious nervousness. It was something I saw on him so rarely. “I don’t really want to sleep on the floor. And it would be nice to have one night where I don’t have to listen to Sam’s snoring.”
“Is that the only reason?” I asked. Of course I didn’t mind. We’d shared a bed a few times before.
“It might be. Or maybe I’m also having a hard time letting you out of my sight after everything that happened today,” he admitted. I smiled and patted the bed.
“Come on in then,” I said.
He climbed into bed beside me and only hesitated a second before pulling me into his arms. I wrapped my arm around him and snuggled into his side. We definitely hadn’t done this before. But I liked it. I hadn’t lied when I said I was exhausted, and I felt myself quickly drifting towards sleep.
“Y/N?” Dean whispered, bringing me back to the edge of consciousness. 
“Hmm?”
“I love you,” he said. I smiled into his chest.
“I love you too.”
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Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28
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nightcoremoon · 2 months
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my experience in the Harry Potter fandom (before we all realized Rowling was a talentless hack, an attention whore, and a spiteful bitch) from ages 6 to 12 was blind adoration, until the last book came out and was a steaming pile of shit thus killing my interest in the series and turning me into the most jaded of teenagers you’ve ever met in your entire life.
i still read the odd fic here and there, but ages 13-16 I was way more into avatar the last airbender, avengers, pokemon, jak & daxter, warcraft, inheritance, death note, invader zim, and all of my contemporaries were into HP and twilight and thus by extension so was I. and I still occasionally was like okay yeah the books are mediocre schlock at best but hey they helped destigmatize the occult in the mainstream eye, and the movies did the best job they could with what they were given, and the books COULD have been good if only you’d just changed like 90% of them. the fandom wasn’t about the books themselves, it was all about the culture that the books had created. because nobody really read any of the books more than once because everybody just watched the movies (DON’T EVEN LIE AND SAY THATS NOT TRUE).
we all rolled our eyes at rowling jingling her keys to make us talk about it again and again but it’s like, ok so dumbledore is gay but you didn’t fucking show it and you made the actual gay character lupin die offscreen, ok so snape was apparently a good person underneath being a toxic shitlord but you didn’t fucking show it and you made the actual only good person hagrid a complete non-entity, ok so Anthony Goldstein was apparently your jewish representation but you didn’t fucking even say his goddamn name once in the entire series and the only black characters were racebent for the movies because you didn’t fucking even mention they were black because we know full fuckin well that every single character was white except for CHO. GODDAMN. CHANG.
all you really had to do was say, okay yeah in my youthful ignorance I accidentally made a contribution to problematic media and so I will now strive to fix my mistakes and write a new series that shows how I have grown as an author. except she didn’t do that. she just greenlit the cursed child and accepted royalties for fantastic beasts. and if it weren’t for eddie redmayne and the fact that it’s part of a licensed franchise, the movie would have totally flopped. it was not very good. and jude law and johnny depp did their best but the script was awful and it suffered from prequelitis (which so far only Star Wars has avoided and even then only very narrowly due to saturation). rowling didn’t even have any fucking writing credits on the movie but she made a fat stack of cash anyway. that’s a trend you’ll notice.
every single way I ever found enjoyment in the fandom was in reading people on here suggesting ways to improve it, or to parody it. like desi harry and black hermione, a very potter musical, potter puppet pals, a billion different rewrites that were all way better than the source materials. i even read my immortal, AND YES IT IS REALLY REALLY BAD not even in an ironic so bad it’s good kind of way, I mean that it was just absolutely godawful in every conceivable way, and was only a highlight of how not to write a fanfic. it was so bad that I reread the original books as a palate cleanser. and let me tell you this, harry potter and the sorcerer’s stone is one of the clumsiest books I’d ever read as a teenager. it’s completely amateur in every way, and it made me understand just why it was so popular with the 13-16 year old crowd. it was written at their reading level. the passages from the actual HP books are all virtually indistinguishable from fanfictions I read over a decade ago made by people who are in their early 20s now. in fact there are plenty of fanfictions written by teenagers that are better written than even the least shitty HP book which is defaulted to half blood prince if only because for once there’s actually some narrative cohesion that isn’t a complete and total ass pull and because if you’ve written five full length books then you goddamn well better understand the basics. engaging with the source material was not fun at all and the only way to milk any fun from it was to make fun of it. and by age 16 I was sick and tired of the cynicism. and around that age is when I joined the my little pony fandom.
and they were the two best years of my life at the time. it was nice to be engaging with wholesome content while also making memes that poked fun at its occasional harmless flaws. I watched other fandoms from a distance but MLP was my primary and honestly it still is, I just haven’t been as heavily involved with it these days beyond listening to the music and rebubbling fanart and even on occasion dabbling in the fanfic realm. but it was integral to me figuring out that hey wait a second I’m not a boy after all haha oops. so when I was 18 and finally transed my gender everything was… fine. ten years later I’m more into games that end with craft lmao
and then everything changed when the terf nation attacked.
by the time the queer parts of the Harry Potter fanbase (who weren’t abject pieces of garbage) were shocked & appalled by the betrayal I was the old coot in my rocking chair holding back the urge to say I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO. when people went back and were like, hey actually wow the books were full of racism and antisemitism, all of the black brown jewish etc parts of the former fandom did not hold back the urge to say we fucking told you so. but as a whole white trans people didn’t really seem to care about its problematic natures until it affected them. which is not a good enough reason to bully harass and suicidebait them especially since they were like 12. thankfully that seems to have done wonders in having the collective media literacy of white trans teenagers increase somewhat. that was a few years ago now and I’ll freely admit that I’m somewhat out of touch with the youth right now, I don’t have a tiktok, I don’t use twitter or instagram, I barely use tumblr. i couldn’t tell you the name of one single popular singer these days, and if I did it would be someone that the kids would roll their eyes at and call me a boomer because I said rihanna or beyonce or nicki minaj or something from the 00s and/or 10s. my favorite musicians all started in the 90s. if I asked out somebody who was only 20 it would be weird and creepy. i know where I stand in society these days and that’s fine. but I don’t exactly know where things stand as far as where most teenagers are at. i hope they’re doing fine. i hope they escaped the clutches of the damage HP did. oh wait I forgot about the blood libel game, gOD DAMN IT-
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You know, saying “FRIENDS was always problematic and kinda cringe and you should watch *insert other show instead*”, is missing the point by a lot.
The show wasn’t bad at the time it came out, we grew as a society and came to realise that the jokes in the show are “problematic” (misogynistic, homophobic and so on).
To those who grew up with the show, they wouldn’t have noticed at the time and they would’ve ignored it or put it aside as less important, since the rest of the show was “good”.
It’s familiar. If a person needs a pick-me-up they’ll usually go for what they know they like. Not a new show. There’s a reason we have comfort foods, comfort books, comfort movies … we know they’re trash, that they don’t hold up, that there’s problematic or questionable content in them, but we know them, we grew up with them. Telling us to just watch something else and that our taste in TV is garbage btw, is either gonna hurt the people who already know as much and are actively trying to do better, or make people on the fence double down and consume that media more.
If I’m craving a box set of pasta carbonara but the brand that makes it, is destroying the rain forest and I am actively choosing to not buy from said brand, I don’t want to be told “well, that brand’s carbonara is awful anyways and you should just buy a different box set of pasta carbonara” cuz that’s not the brand I’m missing. That’s not the one I grew up with. If I’m choosing to forgo a small comfort even when I really want it, I don’t want sympathy, but also don’t want to be insulted because I didn’t grow up eating the right kind of pasta meal kit. I know the taste of that box set, I know the lines in that movie, I know the story in that book. I’m missing the comfort and the nostalgia from my childhood. I can’t just replace that with something new and pretend I never liked XYZ media. So please, don’t grandstand about something just cuz it turns out the media or the creator or the brand is crap. Don’t feel superior cuz you grew up watching or reading something that hasn’t turned out to be bad. And don’t think you’re safe from it either. I’m not saying “oh, everything is being made problematic today, some culture, blah blah blah!” I’m saying, unless the creator has been dead for many years and it’s already been established that they have some questionable opinions on things, you can’t be sure the creator doesn’t suddenly decide to go full JKR or Kanye one day.
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zafirosreverie · 3 years
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Must be the eyes (Teacher!Agatha x Fem!Student!Reader) part 2
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(Part 1)
a/n: this is long, like, really long. Uppsies
- - - - - - - - - - -
Salem ... you were going to Salem !!
Nick laughed at you when you jumped out of happiness, before wrapping your arms around him and spinning him around. You were quite excited.
"I see someone is excited" he laughed as you let him go
"Sorry" you laughed "I just can't believe it! We’re going to Salem, Nick!" you screamed with excitement
"Yes yes, I was in class too, history girl” he laughed again "But it doesn't seem a bit strange to you that just last friday you mentioned that you wanted to go, and today, monday, they tell us that they will take us on a field trip precisely to Salem? Not to mention that Ms Harkness doesn't seem like the kind of teacher who wants to take her students on trips. "
"So?" you asked. You knew exactly what he was implying, but you decided to play innocent "Maybe the universe thought it would be a good time to pay me what it owes me"
"Suuuuure. And Ms Harkness totally wasn't looking at you during the entire announcement" He said
"She wasn't" you agreed, making him roll his eyes.
Except that she totally was. Nick was right. From the moment the older woman had walked into the classroom, you could feel her eyes fixed on you. At first you felt like you were in trouble, but when she started talking about the trip she and professor Maximoff had planned, a part of you (a small and somewhat selfish part) couldn't help but think that maybe she was doing it for you.
It was silly and you knew it, why would a woman like Agatha Harkness go to the trouble of planning a whole field trip, getting a hotel, food and transportation for almost 30 students, just so that you specifically could fulfill one of your dreams? Not to mention, there was no way she knew about it.
But the feeling that you were something special to her, even if it was only in your imagination, was enough for you.
You sighed "Nick, if you're still upset about the project, I'm sorry ok? But don't get me in your business with her"
"Hey! I didn't sleep all weekend to finish it, okay?" he defended himself "I didn't even go to the movies with Dalton, Y/N. Do you know what that means? I missed a date with him!" he pouted, making you laugh
"First of all, you had almost the entire month to do the project, you shouldn't have put it off until the last minute. Second, it wasn't even a date! You haven't been able to confess your feelings to Dalton in two years"
"So? At least I'm making progress with him, you've been drooling over our teacher since the first day of college and all you've done is have these tense discussions with her."
"Shhhhh" you shut him up "shout it out to everyone, would you?"
"Hey, you started"
"It's different and you know it Nick" you sighed "You're only a year older than Dalton. There are at least 10 years between me and Ms Harkness, not to mention that she is our teacher!"
"Pfff, 10 years? Come on Y/N, we both know she's probably twice your age" Nick scoffed
"She's not that old" you blushed "And that's not the point anyway"
"Right" he nodded "the point is that your girlfriend is going to take us all to a haunted town just to make you happy" he smirked.
"My what- she’s not-" you stuttered.
Nick laughed and you flushed with both embarrassment and anger. You ran after him to try to hit him, not noticing the pair of blue eyes staring at you from a window.
________
Agatha sighed to herself as she watched you walk away with that little friend of yours. She had watched all the interaction and when she saw you blush she wished she could listen, but you were too far away.
However, what she did hear were your screams of excitement and she couldn't help but notice that her heart leapt a little at the thought that it was she who had made you so happy.
Again, she would never tell anyone, but the only reason she had agreed to accompany Wanda was because of the conversation she had overheard, when you told Nicholas that you didn't have money for two trips.
At first, it had been easy to lie to herself, saying that she was simply killing two birds with one stone: Wanda could have her field trip and you could visit Salem at no expense, that way you could save up to go elsewhere in summer.
However, when Wanda asked why she had specifically chosen your class, she hadn't known what to answer. She wanted to see you happy, she felt you deserved everything in the world, but she couldn't say that to the redhead, so she had given a bad excuse that your group was the least problematic. Wanda hadn't believed it, but at least she had the decency not to comment on anything.
She told herself that she had to be more careful. She couldn’t let anyone, student or teacher, find out that perhaps it was no longer simple affection what she felt for you.
When she walked into your classroom, however, she couldn't help staring at you from the get-go. She didn't want to miss your reaction to the news. From the sparkle in your eyes, the way the corner of your mouth lifted, how your nose wrinkled, the way your shoulders tensed, and how you clenched your hands to avoid showing your emotion.
She wanted to see all of that.
But that had made her look at you the whole time. She never once had she taken her eyes off you, almost forgetting that it was supposed to be a school trip, for all of her students, not a surprise gift specifically for you.
Even if that's what it really was. As she had told Wanda, she was more than capable of teaching Salem's history without having to take you there, but she did it for you. And a small part of her wanted to tell you, she wanted you to know what she had done, she wanted you to understand how much you meant to her, without having to use her words.
She wasn't sure if she'd made it, but your excitement was enough for her. She just wished she could be the one receiving that crushing hug, instead of Nicholas.
"Earth to Agatha" said a voice behind her, making her jump
"Maximoff" she sighed "No one told you it's rude to approach people like this" she crossed her arms and frowned.
"In my defense, I've been here for about 15 minutes, it's not my fault that you get lost in your thoughts so quickly" the redhead teased as she handed her a coffee "It must be age"
"I'm going to ignore the fact that you called me old, just because of the coffee" the brunette growled, taking it.
"Lucky me" the youngest smiled "So, ready for the trip?" she asked
"There's still a whole month to go, cutie" she said
"Don't even remind me, I was hoping they'd let us go sooner" sighed the redhead.
"Wanda, I know they are university students, but not all of them have the income, no matter how little the school charges them. We have to pay for transportation, meals and hotel, not to mention that many of them will want to buy souvenirs or do another activities" Agatha reminded her
"It's a field trip, Aggs, not a vacation."
"Try to convince 30 students of that" scoffed the older woman
"... fair enough" sighed Wanda "and we still need another chaperone"
"What do you mean?" Agatha frowned "Isn't that why I'm going?"
"Yes, but as we also take male students, by law we must bring a male teacher too"
"That’s bullshit"
"I know, but I'm not going to complain and risk losing my permit."
The brunette thought about it for a moment before sighing. Wanda was right. And she wouldn't risk having the trip canceled either, not after seeing how happy it made you.
___________
It was the longest month of your life! You were too excited, you could hardly think of anything other than the trip. You had worried a bit that it was too expensive, but were pleasantly surprised when you realized that it was less than half of what the trip would cost you alone.
Besides, Nick had told you that he could lend you money if necessary. It wasn't that you were broke, far from it, but being a college student, living alone in a rental department and with a part-time job, was difficult.
However, you had managed to save enough money to pay for the trip and still be able to even spend a little on souvenirs or other things, which would be necessary to thank your boss for giving you permission to be absent for two weeks and your friend Alisha for covering you.
"Hello" you smiled at the secretary
"Good afternoon" she replied, a little serious but at least she smiled back at you "can I help you miss?"
"Yeah, uhm, I'm here to pay for the trip to Salem, group 203" you said
"One moment please" she nodded and pulled out a couple of lists "Your name, queen?" she asked kindly
"Y/N  Y/L/N"
The woman scanned the names with her eyes, searching for the letter of your last name, but you felt your stomach drop a little when she frowned before looking at you.
"Are you sure, dear?" she asked
You blinked in surprise before nodding.
"How strange" she said "it appears that it is already paid"
"W-what?" now you frowned "It must be a mistake"
"No, Y/N  Y/L/N, paid. Are you sure you didn't forget? It usually happens" she assured you, smiling at you.
But you knew that was not the case. You hadn't paid before because you didn't have the money. Damn, you were sure you were the last to pay! You were supposed to leave in three days!
"No" you said softly "I'm sure I didn't pay for it"
The woman was about to say something when you heard a rather familiar pair of heels coming up behind you. You didn't even have to turn around to find out who she was.
Agatha smiled as she stood right next to you, her hand pressed to your lower back. She smiled at the secretary before speaking.
"Good afternoon, Lu" she said to the woman
"Good afternoon, Ms Harkness"
"Is something wrong? Or why the long face, Miss Y/L/N?" she asked, smiling at you
It took you a moment to answer, too stunned by the warm touch of her hand on your back and the smell of her perfume filling your air.
"Someone paid for my trip" you said simply
"Excuse me?" she asked confused
"Someone paid for my trip" you repeated "it wasn't me, miss"
"Well, I still don't see the problem" she smiled at you "maybe that little friend of yours paid for you, or someone is trying to win your heart" she winked
The way she said the last part sent a chill down your spine. It felt too intimate for some reason.
"Either way, I wouldn't worry about it" she said, pulling you out of your thoughts "take advantage of it, Miss Y/L/N, not all of us are lucky enough to be given a free trip, right Lu?"
"Absolutely Ms Harkness"
You weren't so convinced, but you weren't in a position to argue with a teacher and a secretary, they were two against one. That and the hand on your back was too much of a distraction to think properly.
You nodded and thanked them before turning on your heel to go find Nick, hoping it was really him who paid for you. You immediately missed the warmth of the hand on your back.
____________
Well shit.
You cursed yourself while running around your apartment. You were sure you had set the alarm, but it hadn't gone on. If it weren't for the fact that you had left the window open and the sun hit you in the face, you wouldn’t have woken up.
When you looked at the clock on your desk, you jumped up. You noticed that your phone had not charged at all and was, in fact, turned off. Double shit.
You tossed it along with the charger in your backpack, after getting out of a quick shower and bouncing around the room as you put on your floral dress and a pair of tennis shoes. You did not care about the mess you left, you would fix it when you returned.
You had 20 minutes to get to school or you were saying goodbye to Salem.
_____________
Agatha tried to appear neutral as Wanda took roll and Jimmy helped the students put their bags onto the bus as they arrived.
She supposed it could have been worse. Of all the male teachers in the school, Jimmy Woo, the chemistry teacher, was the most educated and one of the few that Agatha actually liked a little. At least the students listened to him.
Not that she was really paying attention to that, if she was honest.
Actually, the only thing on her mind was you. Nothing new, but this was different. You hadn't arrived yet and they were 15 minutes away from leaving. She was beginning to worry.
She didn't understand what was happening, you were the most excited about the trip, she had paid for you, and yet you weren't here? She had thought you would be the first to arrive. Have you regretted it? No, you would have told her or Wanda. Something happened to you? Surely Nicholas would have said something when he arrived.
So why was there no sign of your precious face? The brunette could convince Wanda to wait for you a little longer, but she wasn't even sure you were going to come. That made her sulk quickly.
She had agreed to take this trip, for you. If you didn't show up, she would have done everything in vain! She didn't even want to go to Salem to babysit! So you had better arrive in the next 10 minutes or you would be in serious trouble when they come back in two weeks.
"Smile Harkness" Wanda laughed, seeing her partner with her arms crossed and a frown "We're almost gone"
"Good, because we still have five hours of travel and I'm already starting to get tired of the voices of these children" she growled.
She really did hope her concern wasn't so noticeable.
____________
You sighed in relief when the taxi finally arrived at the school, seeing that the bus was still there. You did it!
You walked quickly, smiling at Professor Woo, who kindly put your suitcase on the underside of the truck.
"We were waiting for you, miss Y/L/N" he said kindly, helping you up the steps.
"Oh no, am I the last one?" you asked, blushing with shame.
"That's right" said Professor Maximoff, smiling at you as you went upstairs.
Well, at least no one had noticed. The rest of your classmates were all talking to each other, laughing and some flirting, not paying attention to the fact that you had just arrived. Excellent.
Except ... oh no.
You looked for Nick, to go sit with him. Sadly, it looks like Dalton was ahead of you and your best friend was too busy flirting to have saved you a spot.
"Take a seat please Y/N" Wanda told you
"Uhm ... where?" you asked, pointing to your companions.
The red-haired woman followed your gaze and realized that you were right. All the seats were taken. That made her frown. They were supposed to have all seats counted, so she, Jimmy, and Agatha had taken the liberty of using two seats each. But it seems they had miscounted.
"Well, I suppose you will have to sit with one of us" she told you.
You nodded, but didn't move, not knowing exactly which of the three to sit next to.
Fortunately for you, you didn't have to make the decision.
Agatha had kept a sigh of relief from escaping her lips when she saw you and Jimmy getting on the bus. She had been biting her nails nervously.
Your choice of clothes had not gone unnoticed and she, taking care that neither Wanda nor Jimmy caught her, let her eyes roam your body. The dress fit too well on you, hugging all the right parts, and ended just above the knees, allowing her to observe your beautiful legs.
She was so busy scanning you with her gaze that she almost missed Wanda's comment. "I suppose you will have to sit down with one of us." Her reaction was almost automatic.
She got up and motioned for you to sit in the window seat. "Take a seat, miss Y/L/N" she said, a little anxious, but with a frown so that the others would think that she was simply desperate to leave.
You blinked before nodding and scooting into the seat. You tried not to show any emotion when the older woman sat next to you and her thigh brushed yours.
You didn't know if you wanted to curse Nick for abandoning you in favor of flirting, or if you wanted to kiss him. You had five hours to think about it from here to Salem.
Wait. Five hours. Five hours trapped between Agatha Harkness and the window and without the possibility of distracting yourself with your cell phone. Oh shit.
___________
"It's not as bad as I thought" said Wanda "You were right Aggs, it's the least troublesome group" she laughed
The older woman rolled her eyes without answering. Her friend was right, most of the students were behaving quite well. There was no excessive yelling, no one was getting up from their seats or causing trouble, everyone seemed more interested in catching up on gossip.
But that didn't mean she liked being there. Her head was already spinning and there were still another three hours to go. The only good thing she had was that you were next to her.
Sure, she had to act nonchalant with you, just trying to get you talking a few times (which didn't work, but at least you had smiled at her and that was enough for her), but she couldn't help stealing glances from you every now and then.
She had given you the place by the window with the excuse that she needed to be in the hallway so she could throw death glares at others and make sure everything was in order, but the truth was, she just wanted you to be able to see everything. So that you don't miss even the entrance to the town.
It had worked for a while, because you looked quite entertained. Until that moment.
When the brunette looked at you sideways, she could see that your eyelids seemed to weigh and how you were starting to nod. Agatha had to admit that a sleepy Y/N was probably the cutest thing she had seen in a long time.
You struggled to stay awake, but after two hours of staring out the window (you were definitely not looking at your teacher through the reflection, thank you very much) your eyes felt tired. Maybe, you could sleep for a while, and hopefully when you woke up, you would be arriving in Salem and you wouldn't have to deal with the blush on your cheeks caused by the mere presence of your crush by your side.
It seemed like a good plan.
Sighing and careful not to kick the older woman, you settled into the seat better, closing your eyes and blocking out the noise around you. It didn't take you long to fall asleep.
Agatha knew the exact moment you had been lost from the world of the living, when your head began to tilt a little. She inwardly cursed you for being so cute.
However, she froze when she realized that little by little, you were sticking closer to her.
At first it was just your head leaning in her direction, but then you were leaning on her shoulder. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling (actually, it was perfect), but it did make her pulse race, especially when you kept falling more and more on her, until you ended up with your head on her chest and basically using her breasts as a pillow.
"Ok, okay, don't panic, everything is fine" she thought "act normal, you are a teacher taking care of her student, nothing to see here"
But she could feel her heart racing at a thousand kilometers per hour and as much as she didn't want to wake you up, she doubted you couldn't hear it, you had your hearing just above it!
She was too busy trying not to move, not to bother you, that she didn't notice the knowing looks and smiles that her two colleagues shared.
When Wanda stood up to supervise the students in the background, she raised an eyebrow, smirking at Agatha. The older woman rolled her eyes and mumbled something about not wanting to wake you up out of mere politeness, but the truth was that her arms burned with the need to hold you and pull you closer to her.
____________
Wanda giggled and motioned for Jimmy to take a look at Agatha's seat. When the man did, he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
At some point during the trip, the brunette had fallen asleep too, probably bored of not moving so as not to wake you up. However, it seemed like her precautions weren't working on autopilot, because the moment she fell asleep, she leaned on you, portraying a cute scene with you on the older woman's chest and Agatha's head on top of yours.
Wanda took out her cell phone and quickly took a photo of you two.
"This is gold" she whispered to Jimmy "this is valuable blackmail material, Harkness will have to do what I ask for at least a month"
"I guess I owe you 10 dollars" said the man.
When they were discussing the details of the trip, the redhead had told him her theory about how the brunette felt about you. Surprisingly, Jimmy hadn't been shocked, he didn't think the other woman had a crush on her student, but he wouldn't look down on Agatha if that was the case. They had both gambled on how long it would take for the woman to start being more obvious.
"And a coffee when we get to Salem" Wanda reminded him.
_____________
Agatha woke up when a particularly loud sound from the movie they were playing in the bus sounded from the speaker above her head. The woman blinked several times, before looking around her.
Jimmy seemed absorbed in the movie and Wanda was asleep. And God knew what the students were doing behind her.
But that was not the important thing. What mattered was the bulge in her arms.
Your hair had fallen over your face, so the older woman gently brushed it away, letting her fingers brush against your skin. You were a beautiful sight. You always were, sure, but just like that, asleep and vulnerable, you were just breathtaking.
Looking at the clock, Agatha knew that they were about to arrive in town, and although she didn't want to wake you up, really enjoying having you like this, she also wanted you to see everything. So she gently started shaking you to wake you up.
You groaned a bit at the annoyance, but in a few more moments your eyes began to open. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did, you frowned.
Why were you so low? You remembered falling asleep almost glued to the window, so why weren't you there? And why did you have a pillow? You hadn't brought a pillow with you.
It wasn't until you caught a familiar scent that you realized you weren't on a pillow. You were on top of your teacher. More specifically, on her chest. Shit.
You got up quickly, muttering an apology and trying desperately not to look at her. You just used Agatha Harkness as a pillow! What an idiot! She sure hates you now.
The older woman was a bit surprised when you jumped up, almost hitting her in the process. If it wasn't because you looked adorable with a red face, she would have tried to comfort you. Besides, she couldn't risk any of her colleagues finding out about her feelings for you.
So she didn't say anything, as if nothing had happened. But she was loving the nervous version of you more and more.
_______________
When you entered the city, you completely forgot the whole incident. Your mind quickly entertained with the landscape and you could see how all those witch tales came to life in front of your eyes. Definitely better than Disneyland.
Agatha couldn't help the pang of pride she felt when she saw your excited face. It was a good choice to sit you by the window. If anyone deserved to have the best possible experience in Salem, it was you.
She just hoped the rest of the trip would go without incidents. Not that she thought falling asleep on her was a bad thing, it was just that she trusted herself less and less to keep herself under control.
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tags: @midnight-lestrange @everythingmarvelsherlockspn (tag not working) @amethyst-bitch @juliejules-089 @powerfulmagicalgirl (tag not working) @novohyde @annie-mit-ie​ @agentbrownierso​
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wenellyb · 3 years
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My journey in the MCU fandom on Tumblr: Sharing my thoughts on the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, racism in the MCU fandom and the best and the worse of the fandom
I wasn’t going to write this much but here I am… I don’t even know where I’m going with this but since The Falcon and the Winter Soldier just recently came out, I wanted to share some thoughts.
I joined Tumble because of a show I loved but most of you don’t know it “ Hit the Floor”
I stayed on Tumblr for two reasons only, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan.
Before the Captain America:Civil War premiere, a friend sent me the link to the Sebastian and Anthony ET interview, and I was hooked. In just one interview. I discovered Anthony Mackie. The guy was hilarious!!! I just couldn’t get enough and I knew I had to know more about him. How could he improvise so many funny lines on the spot? He was just amazing.
I had pretty much watched all the avengers movie but that was it. I was not involved in the fandom. So I knew Sam Wilson’s face, but I couldn’t even remember his name if my life depended on it. That’s how much the MCU treated him as a side character.
I was like how the f*ck don’t I know this guy?
His talent reminded me of Eddie Murphy, Jim Carrey or Robin Williams, like yes they can make some emotional or serious movies, but when they want to make you laugh, you will laugh. Whether you want it or not.  I kept wondering how this guy wasn’t more famous.
And the banter with Sebastian Stan? Wow, you could tell their friendship was strong, the way Sebastian lighted up when Anthony was talking, and keep bouncing off his jokes. It was art. the way Sebastian said “ I love you” at the end of the interview. Pure gold.
I then started to watch some of the interviews and boy was that a mistake!!! I literally couldn’t get enough. So I watched all and I say all their interviews, it was the best. We got some gems:
“Why aren’t you looking at me as much”
“Which way is the beach Seabass”
*Them saying nonsense in Spanish and then Sebastian Saying Papi Chulo*
 ¨And so many more, ....
I watched other solo Anthony interviews and he was still HILARIOUS, but you could also tell he felt a little bit more at ease with Sebastian around. I won’t pretend I know him or his personality, but Sebastian seems like a little bit more of an introvert and looks like he doesn’t enjoy the interview experience unless Anthony id around him. Just my thoughts
I watched the interviews before I went to see the movie, I even cosplayed as the Winter Soldier to the movie premiere and I was IN!!! When I saw Captain America Civil War, I became a SamBucky shipper, these two were hilarious and I really so the potential for a great realtionship I love enemy to lovers stories.
I also shipped Stucky because, to me, the trope of the movie was Superhero gives up everything to protect his long term friend” Hollywood movies have some codes and if Bucky were a female character, there is no doubt in my mind that the movie would have been marketed as romance.
Stucky really was an easy ship! But then the MCU fandom of Tumblr fandom messed up everything for me. You see I really liked the CACW and I I liked Stucky, I liked Sambucky, and I loved the introduction of t’Challa’s character, but one of things that affected me the most in the movie was that it was the first blockbuster I watched with 3 black main characters, Rhodey, Sam and T’Challa. That, and the fact that they were planning to realease a Black Panther movie in two years, I was super excited, and that’s the main reason I got involved in the MCU fandom so much, when before, I was just a casual watcher.
If this seem weird to you, then you have no idea how we were only getting crumbs before. For me it was soo huge, I even told all my friends, and they were laughing at me. But usually blockbusters, especially superhero movies get one black character and that’s it, usually the best friend or something and never the leads. So, for me it really was a big deal. How sad is that by the way…
I became more involved in the fandom and, at first, I wasn’t focusing on anything special, Sambucky, Stucky, Stackie, the Black Panther, and even Zemo, whose character I really liked.
But soon I noticed that the CACW tags were always flooded, and I mean flooded with the same two white characters: Steve and Bucky. I told myself, ok that’s fine Steve is the lead after all, but it would be good to see the other characters too.
And then I noticed another interesting trend: Evanstan…. Wait what?
Chris Evans, and Sebastian Stan… did I miss something? Listen, obviously I’m sure they must be friends or something, but you’re going to tell me you watch all MCU the actors and you’re going to focus on Steve and Sebastian? I’m sorry what?
Sebastian and Anthony are right there… Or Chris and Anthony, they even have a secret handshake, only the 2 of them do… what more do you want?
Tell me one iconic Evanstan moment… go ahead tell me… See??? There isn’t.
Because of this and because of how badly some Stuckies were treating Sam and Anthony. I became less and less of a stucky shipper . I mainly focused on SamBucky, Stackie and the Black Panther,
And then the Sebastian Stan stans saw how popular Stackie, Sambucky, were becoming and I started to see some problematic stuff in our fandom too.
I don’t want to generalize, but when you go into the Stackie tag, and you see cropped pictures of Sebastian without Anthony, it’s easy to assume that a Sebastian fan did that. And we know damn well you cropped out Anthony because we watched all Stackie interviews and know exactly which interview your picture was taken from. We know that Anthony was sitting right next to Seb.
You post a picture of Sebastian laughing but you crop out the person who was making him laugh??
“but it has nothing to do with race” How do you know that?
“Sebastian had more screen time” More screen time than Anthony in CATWS or CACW? I don’t think so.
“I have been a fan of Sebastian for longer”, that’s fine but don’t go out cropping Anthony, just post gifs of Seb in his usual, sad, and Anthony-less interviews, not the ones where he’s smiling because his best friend is next to him.
Some of you really are the worst. And just so you know, your fave Sebastian is Anthony’s biggest fan, if he saw pictures where you cropped out Anthony, he would block you on the spot.
When I realized that Anthony Mackie would be the next Captain America I was screaming, no actually, I was crying, Sam Wilson will be Captain America, and Anthony would finally get the recognition he deserves.
You would think that the MCU fandom would focus on Captain America or at least one the two leads, instead of just Sebastian? Right? Right? WRONG.
Anthony is handsome, he’s funny, he’s a great actor, he went to freaking Julliard, he’s at the top, I don’t see what else the man can do??? He should already be a superstar, but no, you will side-line him even to he is the lead of the show.
Even when they are the actual leads, you guys would do anything to bring up the White characters even if it means ignoring the Black characters.
I remember I was having a conversation about Black Panther with my friends and I asked one of my white friends who was his favorite character in BP was and he told me Martin Freeman (don’t even remember his name in the movie) Martin Freaking Freeman, there are half a dozen of great characters and your fave is the only white man??? Ok, ok, that’s great.
Don’t give out automatic reply like “It has nothing to do with race, if you haven’t thought about it first”, because there’s a high probability that it is indeed about race. Stop saying it isn’t, sit down and ask yourself, “Am I biased?” “Why am I reblogging only stuff related to the white characters”.
One of these days you guys are going to make me hate Sebastian with the sh*t you are pulling.
I looove the Stackie friendship and the Sambucky dynamic but after seeing the way some of you treat Anthony and Sam’s character, it make me want to focus on Sam’s character and forget about the rest.
 I remember they were some posts about how Anthony was problematic, and I just lost it. Apparently, there was an old article that resurfaced were Anthony was making a joke about women making sandwiches or something.
If you were offended by the sandwich joke, that is totally ok, and I can understand that.
But if you were offended by the sandwich joke, and saying Anthony is problematic BUT you still stan Chris Evans, Jeremy Renner, ScarJo or even Sebastian Stan, just know that there is a high probability you’re racist.
They have all said or done problematic stuff, and people only seem to remember stuff related to Anthony, which was probably just a joke by the way.
Chris Evans and Jeremy called Black widow a wh*re, ScarJo took roles that she maybe shouldn’t have and I didn’t forget Sebastian shady Instagram post, when Kaepernick was kneeling. There are so many more things to be said about Jeremy Renner but google is your friend.
Anthony also got hate for hating on Tom Holland? Like what? Do you guys even hear yourselves? Don’t you have any friends you like to tease? If you hate someone, do you go around talking about him every chance you get? It was obviously friendly banter but some people wanted to turn it into something it was not. Sigh.
I really cannot with this fandom
 The stackie fandom was small at the beginning and the Sambucky fandom even smaller, but we were there and it was amazing. Sebastian and Anthony received the same amount of love from the fandom and I wish we could go back to those days.
Stop pretending the fandom isn’t racist. Stop saying “it isn’t about race” when you haven’t even thought about.
Saying “it has nothing to do with race” only shows that you haven’t thought about anything but don’t want to be called a racist.
There is racism in this fandom and it will always be there, but if you guys want to do anything about it, you have to acknowledge it first.
You can’t be pulling off stuff like “I don’t see colors”, “ it has nothing to do with race”. Stop, sit down, think about it and then we can have a conversation.
If you’ve made it till the end, I apologize for the typos and grammar mistakes, I wasn’t planning on writing this much.
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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years
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Twisted [Spencer Reid x Reader]
A.N.: So, here we go! 😁 Thank you so much for your wonderful support and lovely messages during my break my loves, they mean so much to me and ily! ❤ On my break, I binged a lot of shows, and Criminal Minds and Prodigal Son were two of them, but if you haven’t watched them don’t worry because it will not be following a specific canon plot😁❤Please let me know what you think and enjoy!❤
Warnings: Murder, drug use, serial killers, violence, manipulation
Summary: No one can choose their family.
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If it were another time, you could’ve at least attempted to convince yourself how everyone had problematic childhoods. Focusing on something else usually worked, per the advices of countless psychiatrists your mother had forced you to go after the-
Incident.
Just the thought of it was more than enough to make your blood freeze in your veins, but you were soon snapped out of your thoughts when your phone started ringing. You checked the caller I.D, and heaved a sigh before you touched the screen.
“Hello?”
“Please tell me you’re not going there.” Your mother’s voice filled the car and you pressed your lips together.
“Hi mom.”
“Every time you go there and visit that man in that wretched prison cell of his, he manages to get into your head!”
“That’s not what’s going to happen,” you said, keeping your eyes on the road, “You have no reason to worry.”
“I have every reason to worry!” she snapped, “We promised that we wouldn’t let him worm his way into our lives.”
“Yeah well, FBI begs to differ,” you forced yourself to say, “You’ve seen the news—“
“I don’t want to hear this,” she cut you off, then heaved a sigh, “It’s terrible enough to hear it once, let alone twice.”
You never really had the luxury of ignoring all the terrible things on the news, especially after what had happened. Ever since you were a child, the nightmares wouldn’t leave you alone, and you weren’t as good as your mother at ignoring what was happening while you were awake.
“You could’ve said no.”
“I really couldn’t,” you mumbled and she clicked her tongue.
“Well then,” she said, trying to pull herself together, “I expect to see you at brunch, even your sister is coming. It won’t take long, will it?”
“It won’t take long to see my serial killer father and find out whether he is helping another serial killer even if he’s been behind bars for years?” you asked, “No mom. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Sarcasm will give you wrinkles.”
“Oh yeah, tragedy.”
“Call me as soon as you leave there,” she insisted, making you smile. “Promise me.”
“I promise,” you said as you pulled over in front of the building. Even the sight of it was enough to make your stomach flip and you felt the bile climbing up your throat.
You did not want to see him.
You had managed not to see him for years now, but now, the news were full of different coverage about a killer whose method of killing was very similar to him.
A flower left in the crime scene, every damn time.
Naturally, FBI wanted a word with the original killer. Less naturally, the original killer refused to speak unless he talked to his younger daughter, who happened to be you.
Unfortunately.
Yet, the sooner you walked in, the sooner you would walk out, and that was the only thing that offered any kind of consolation.
“God damn it,” you mumbled to yourself as you left your car, and made your way into the building. They patted you down, made you go through the x-ray and sign the papers before you entered the hall.
There were two men that weren’t in official prison guard clothes, which made you think these were the FBI agents you had talked to on the phone. For some reason, you hadn’t pictured them like this, but you didn’t know any agents so maybe this was the norm.
If it were any other time, you could’ve noticed how handsome they both were, but your mind was way too occupied.
“Ma’am,” the dark haired one stepped closer to you, “I’m Special Agent Luke Alvez, this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”
Even if Agent Alvez looked like the ideal FBI agent that was pulled out of an action movie, Dr. Reid looked more like a young, handsome professor, the ones that you dreamed would be at your university when you were still at high school.
Needless to say, that fantasy hadn’t come true much to your disappointment.
You shook your head, trying to focus.
“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You shook hands with him, and smiled at Dr Reid, “Hello.”
“Thank you for coming.” His smile was soft, much like his gaze, “I imagine it’s not easy for you.”
You forced yourself to shrug, “Yeah it’s…” you trailed off and cleared your throat, “It’s fine.”
“So far we have seen five murders all over the country, in different areas but the crime scene has your father’s signature. It most likely means there are multiple copycat killers, and given your father’s past, he might be the mastermind behind it. He contacted us, but refuses to say anything unless he spoke to you.”
The goosebumps rising on your arms felt almost familiar.
“I haven’t been educated in any interrogation techniques.” You said, “And knowing him, he’s not just going to give that information to me.”
“People give information about a lot of things even when they don’t realize it.” Dr Reid said, “We will be outside, watching and listening.”
“I’ll talk to the guards to see if he’s ready, excuse me.” Alvez said and he walked away while you nibbled on your lip.
“How does a serial killer have this many privileges?” Reid asked you, “He has a private cell, books, TV…”
“Money,” you said slowly, “Money buys lawyers, lawyers buy freedom. Or the closest thing to freedom, given the circumstances. If you ask me, he should’ve been rotting in a hole but...” you trailed off, leaning back to the wall and took a deep breath, counting in your head.
“That’s a good exercise to calm down,” Reid said and your head shot up.
“What?”
“The 4 7 8 breathing exercise. I’m guessing a psychiatrist taught you that.”
“Several psychiatrists taught me that,” you stated, raising your brows, “You’re observant aren’t you professor?”
“Doctor.”
You clenched an unclenched your fists, your eyes darting around the hall,
“This is not helping,” you said as you exhaled a breath, “I need a cigarette, or twenty.”
“What do you do?” his question was so out of nowhere that you gawked at him for a moment.
“What?”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a— I’m a wedding planner.”
He tilted his head, “What’s that?”
“Well you…you know, you help the couples with color palettes, decoration, overall aesthetic, and during the wedding you make sure nothing goes wrong with the venue and the food and the music, all that. You make sure the wedding is perfect, basically.”
He hmmed, “How do I tell if a wedding is perfect? If we were talking sense wise?”
“Well first of all, in terms of looks, the colors need to complement each other,” you said, remembering your favorite events, “When you walk in, you see the garden and it’s well lit, but not too bright. In terms of touch, I guess you would make sure the table covers and such are soft to touch. The music should be slow at first, at least until it starts.”
“How about smell?”
“You can’t really go wrong with faint flower scents. Scented candles are a nice touch too.”
“The food?”
“Something light, most of the time. No one wants to get into a food coma at a wedding and you—“ you stopped as your eyes snapped up to his, a small smile playing at his lips.
He was making you list all the things that would ground you without making you realize you were doing it, so that you wouldn’t lose yourself in panic. It was yet another trick your psychiatrists had told you to do whenever you felt overwhelmed, talking about what you could see, hear, smell, touch and taste. By making you focus on a pleasant memory and remember all those, he was offering you a safe place in your own mind.
But contrary to any doctor, he didn’t make it obvious.
“Well played, professor.”
This time, he didn’t correct you,
“Grounding works most of the time,” he stated as Agent Alvez approached you, “I know this situation is less than ideal, but we will be right outside. You can walk out any time you want.”
“They’re ready.” Agent Alvez said and you nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was slamming against your chest, then followed them to the door. Alvez opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, digging your fingernails into your palm.
His hair had more grays since you had last seen him, and his beard was longer, but that dangerous light in his eyes hadn’t changed. He looked up, a wide smile appearing on his face as his eyes searched yours.
“Sweetheart!” he said cheerfully, raising his hands a little so that you could see the chains attached to his handcuffs, “It’s been a while, wouldn’t you say?”
Pretending to be calm was something you had practiced so many times that your body knew automatically what to do. The door closed behind you and you swallowed thickly, making sure your face didn’t show any feelings. You slowly approached the table to pull yourself a chair, then put your phone on the table and started the countdown.
He wanted five minutes, and you would be damned if you stayed there a second longer.
“You look so much like your mother,” your father shook his head, “It’s uncanny, really.”
You gritted your teeth, still glaring at him.
“Not your eyes though,” he smiled, “You got your eyes from me. The window to the soul, hm?”
“My soul has nothing to do with you.” The words left your lips before you could stop them and he tut tutted.
“My petal-“
“Don’t call me that,” you cut him off, “I hate that nickname.”
That didn’t seem to break his enthusiasm though, much to your displeasure.
“Well, we should catch up,” he said , clapping his hands together, “Are you still with that young man from last year? He’d better be treating you well.”
You blinked a couple of times, “How did you-?”
“I have my sources too.”
“Your sources are slow then.” You stated, “We broke up months ago. Is that all? You brought me here to just talk about my personal life?”
“Why did you break up?”
“Are you really behind all these murders happening right now?” you asked back and he shot you a reprimanding look.
“None of that right now, petal. Business and family shouldn’t be merged, as you know.”
You felt like you would throw up, but managed to hold it together and stole a look at the countdown.
“Why did you break up?”
“Certain differences,” you said, cracking your fingers to distract yourself, and he leaned back.
“I get that,” he said, “If you’re different, you’re different. I always felt that with your mother—“
“Stop that.” You spat out, “Anything I do, including my relationships, it has nothing to do with you. I’m nothing like you.”
“Oh but you are,” he said, “It’s all in your eyes. In that deadly glare of yours. It’s there, isn’t it? That anger? Try to hide it as much as you want, it’s still burning you.”  
“There’s nothing burning me,” you said, “You’re fucked up, doesn’t mean I am too.”
“You know, there are many scientists that say murder is in the genes,” he stated, “So it would mean you’re contaminated too, no?”
The panic was pounding through your system, but you managed to keep your expression stable.
“Do you know why I didn’t ask your sister here? Or hell, your mother? Do you know why it is you?”
You stayed silent, your gaze focused on him.
“Your sister loved your mother, but you…. You were always such a daddy’s girl.”
“Wrong.”
“I don’t even think you cried for your mother whenever you scraped your knees, it was always me.”
“I didn’t know you were crazy when I was a child, guilty as charged. Doesn’t prove anything.”
“It does,” he said, “It proves more than you know. You are going to be my legacy.”
A cold shiver ran down your spine but you took a deep breath, resting your palms on the steel desk.
“No I won’t,” you said calmly, “Sorry to disappoint. I never killed anyone.”
Your father’s smile was almost as serene as your voice.
“Yet,” he pointed out, and you felt your throat tightening. “Ignore it if you want. It’s still there, petal.”
The beep of the phone made you snap out of it and you pushed your chair back, knocking it over in the process.
“Fuck you,” you said through your teeth as you gripped the door knob, “Have fun rotting in here.”
You swung the door open and stepped outside, still trying to catch your breath, and the door next to the interrogation room opened before Reid stepped into your vision. Your hands were still shaking and you desperately needed a cigarette and some fresh air.
But what you really needed was to get out of there.
“Y/N?”
“I hope you got whatever you guys needed,” you managed to say, wiping at your nose, “Because I’m never stepping a foot here, ever again.”
With that, you walked out of the hall, every cell in your body screaming at you to get away. You ignored the looks from the guards, tears blurring your vision and you left the building as fast as you could, as if someone was chasing you.
As if that could help you escape him.
Chapter 2
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“QUEER”
First of all, let’s clear up a common misconception. Queer does not just mean gay. It’s an umbrella term for an identity which deviates from society’s perceived norm: heterosexual, or straight. Queer can refer to sexualities — gay, bisexual, pansexual, — or it can refer to being gender-queer; i.e, any label that deviates from the perceived gender norm: the binaries, male and female.
“Queer” is a reclaimed slur.
If you do not fall under the umbrella of queerness, it is safe to assume that you cannot use it. At all.
I am bisexual.
This means I experience attraction to plural genders. Pansexual also works fine. For the difference between bisexual and pansexual — see here:
Being bisexual isn’t easy. I went through similar hardships to gay women: I experienced attraction to women and was scared of what this meant for me, in such an oppressively homophobic society.
I am not saying being bisexual is harder than being gay, nor the inverse. But my experiences are distinctly bisexual, not gay.
Without further ado, here are the 3 things I’ve found to be the hardest about being queer, but not gay (enough).
#1: Finding My Place
Or, not being queer enough
I always knew I wasn’t straight, but I didn’t know what I was. Up until recently, I was still questioning. This didn’t feel enough to join groups or conversations with LGBT+ folk, let alone go to pride. Was I even LGBT if I was never L, G, B, or T?
I am still yet to attend a pride, even though I identify (fairly confidently) as bisexual. I am in a relationship with a man. This is (problematically) known as a “straight-passing relationship” and makes me feel even more undeserving of a place at pride.
This has been upsetting to me at times. But for others, it can be outright devastating. Growing up and needing support, but feeling like you’re ‘not gay enough’ to ask for it? So many young people are being left alone and afraid. Finding others like you is vital to figuring out who you are. Likewise, finding spaces which are safe and inclusive is vital for anyone, regardless of their sexuality or gender identity. A friend of mine happens to be a transgender man, and he summed up the issue perfectly:
“One thing that I keep noticing is how all hangout spots are “gay bars”, or (far less common) “lesbian bars”. I’m a straight man, so I don’t feel like I’m supposed to be there, but hanging out at regular bars is still too much of a gamble, so I don’t really have anywhere to go.”
It goes without saying that gay folk aren’t always safe in these spaces, as seen by the homophobic attack on the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, in 2016. Bigotry hurts the entire LGBT+ community. Bigotry doesn’t stop to ask whether you identify as gay or otherwise queer before it pulls the trigger.
But the LGBT+ community itself is much more welcoming to those who “pick a side” and just come out as gay, already. The infighting is inexplicable when one looks to attacks such as that in Orlando: bigots don’t care which letter you are in the acronym. So why does gatekeeping exist when we need to be strong in the face of intolerance when fragmentation only makes us weaker? Who are we helping by continuing to exclude identities from the discussion?
#2: Myths and Misconceptions
Well, it stands to reason that if bisexuals are what they seem in TV and movies, why would anyone want to make them feel included? They’re “greedy” and inauthentic. They’re attention-seeking, not to mention their propensity for threesomes. Now, I haven’t been in a wild orgy yet, but it seems like it will only be a matter of time before I follow my natural path.
Straight men, in particular, need to own up to their assumption that bisexual women are down for a threesome. The thing is, we are. But not with you, you big ASSUMER.
Infidelity
All jokes aside, the stereotyping of bisexuals is not only hurtful, but leads to difficulties finding and maintaining relationships.
As I came to terms with my bisexuality, I also had to accept that I might never be fully trusted by my partner, regardless of their gender or sexuality. I was shocked when my partner reacted to my coming out with the equivalent of a shrug — so much so, that I burst into tears of gratitude that my soul-bearing moment hadn’t been met with slut-shaming or assumptions of disloyalty. Nothing has changed. If anything, our bond is even stronger for me having been more authentic after coming out.
But cruelty came from elsewhere: when I came out, I was told that my partner was to be pitied, either because I’m gay and in denial, or bound to cheat on him. The main consequence of such attitudes has been the crippling fear of coming out to my partner. It saddens me that I felt so relieved when he accepted me for being who I am, and loving him just the same as I always have.
This outcome is not the case for many couples, with straight folk worried that their bisexual partner will realise they’re gay and just leave them. This fear of abandonment comes from a place of ignorance. When the media presents bisexuality as a steppingstone on the way to “picking a team”, it’s no wonder that people struggle to trust their queer partners.
Other Queer Myths
The myth that all trans folk medically transition invalidates those who choose not to do so, and let’s not forget the ignorant jeers that it's all just a mental illness. Asexual folk battle the stereotype that they can never have a relationship and shall forever remain a virgin (because what an awful thing that would be, right?) And pansexuals… well, at the lighter end, they’re asked if they have sex with cooking utensils. But often, they’re erased as irrelevant because “we already have the label bisexual”.
This brings us onto the third and final difficulty that comes with queer folk who aren’t easily categorizable as gay: erasure.
#3: Erasure
Erasure refers to the denial of an identity’s existence or its validity as a label.
Non-binary folk face ongoing and loud claims that they simply do not exist. This is despite the historical and scientific evidence to the contrary. Plus, the most important evidence — them, existing. Asexual folk are told they simply have not found the right person yet, or that they are just afraid of sex. Demi-sexual folk are told “everyone feels like that, unless they’re just sleeping around!”. And bisexuals are dismissed as simply being in denial that they’re gay.
Monosexuality & The Gender Binary
Our culture is so built on monosexuality (being solely attracted to one gender — for instance, gay or straight). Monosexuality is reinforced through everything from marriage to dating apps, the media to what we teach in schools. People cannot fathom that someone might want to experience more than one gender in their lifetime.
The binary models of sex and gender are also deeply ingrained. These rigid belief systems combined are to blame for our inability to accept that bisexuals do not need to “pick a side”. I was paralysed by fear for 17 years because I found girls attractive and that might mean I’m gay, because bisexuals are just gays who haven’t realised they’re gay yet.
Bierasure
Bierasure is dangerous, firstly because it leads a child to have to internalise both biphobia and homophobia. For instance, I had to work through being taught to hate gayness, whilst being taught that any attraction to non-male genders made me gay.
Women were cute, and so I was gay, and this meant I was disgusting.
My own mother told me this. She also told me that something has “gone wrong in the womb” for a child to be gay. (Well, Mum, I’ve got some bad news about your womb!)And she, like any bigot, extended this theory to anyone who experiences same-sex attractions — anyone queer. This is another reason why bi-erasure is perilous. Whether you’re a gay, cis-male or a demi-bisexual, trans woman… if your parents will kick you out for being gay, they will likely kick you out for being any sort of queer.
If we deny the bigotry that bisexuals undergo, we will continue to suffer. It won’t just go away. It will fester, with bisexuals having no one they can go to who believes them. And thus:
Erasure Kills
Bullying and suicide rates of queer-but-not-gay people continue to sky-rocket. We must direct funding, support and compassion to every queer individual, as they are all vulnerable to discrimination and bullying. The problem is being left to fester. This is in part because bigots treat all queer labels as just ‘gay’, deeming them equally unworthy. This is how far erasure can go.
Conclusion
Earlier on, I stated that my experiences are distinctly bisexual. The same applies to any queer identity.
Emphasising our differing paths and struggles is important to avoid the aforementioned erasure of already less visible groups. But this does not mean that the LGBT+ community should be fragmented by these differences.
If we can unite in our hope to live authentically and love freely, we will be stronger against bigotry. We are fighting enough intolerance from without: there is no need to create more from within.
So out of everything, what’s the hardest part about being bisexual?
It’s the fact that nobody knows it’s this hard.
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karanoid · 3 years
Text
about top joe discord
LET ME ADDRESS A FEW POINTS:
There has been many fear and anxiety regardless the top!joe discord I made. I understand how it gives my discord a bad reputation. Somebody has kindly reached out to me to ask me addressing several points, which I’m now gonna clarify:
1. I am racist, I asked why, and they said mostly because of my dismissive behavior to people who called me out for drawing yusuf adorned in gold jewelry which made their friends feel unsafe. So, I am a muslim and was raised in a muslim household and community. I am fucking brown.
I didn’t say it because you don’t need to know that about me. What bothers me is how some people feel the need to come to my inbox informing me “maam yusuf is a religious muslim who prays 5 times a day and do all the supplementary prayers all while he drinks alcohol and fuck nicky in the dailies, he wouldnt be wearing gold maam no maam.” as if I didn’t know any better. so please, now don’t do that. If you care so much about the littlest details like wearing gold then you’ll also call out yusuf because he draws living beings and drinks champagne. yes it’s true muslim men are forbidden from wearing gold AND silk but let’s not forget, nothing in the comic and movies imply yusuf has ever been religious. It’s easier to see nicolo as religious because he was a fucking priest. Yusuf was a fucking merchant, it’s easy to see that he’d be less faithful because he would have been travelling and seen many kind of people to broaden his horizons and not contained to a little bubble of hyper religious community. However, let me remind you: whether yusuf AND nicolo are religious or not is entirely UP TO THE AUTHOR/ARTIST. It’s totally fine to make him religious and if you can respect it THATS GREAT, I ALSO LIKE HIM THAT WAY, but please remember it’s not even canon and hey sometimes I just draw things because I like the aesthetics. Also please, do not harass writers for getting a thing or two incorrect, even white people cannot get christianity correct, even between two muslims could be a disagreement whether this fic’s yusuf is problematic or not. I wouldn’t even expect anything more and THAT’S OKAY. Just don’t be an ass to muslims of color in real life and don’t fall into the believe that it’s a religion of violence. you can say that greg made him that way bc he knew nothing better but hey, I have no problem with that. again, it’s fine to make him religious, I’d be delighted but it’s ALSO fine to make him not religious.
2. I think that people only write Top!Nicky out of political correctness. OKAY. I apologize for this. I thought like this because I have accounts telling me that they were pressured into writing top!nicky or they wanted more readerships so I make a BIG assumption. I realized this is only a small part of switch and top!nicky fics and the big bulk of this must be out of genuine care. So yeah, I apologize for thinking that people only write top!nicky out of political correctness. I think writers should be allowed to write whatever they want. Yes this includes top!Nicky. And in whatever kinks they want it. However, this still doesn’t change that the discourses do scare people away from writing top!joe. Write top!nicky however you want, but stop vague-blogging about top!joe. racism isn’t inherent to top!joe and you can always remind people to be mindful with their writings but discouraging people from writing top!joe is not the solution. 
3. Top!joe is racist and people in the discord are racist. Okay, I am gonna touch several aspects why top!joe discord is considered racist: (1) because I don’t like to switch them, therefore I am racist. Sorry that’s not how it works. I have a clear preference and that’s just how I roll. Besides, a lot of people in the discord (including me) think either they switch (because they are 900 yo) or joe just doesn’t like bottoming. I’m not the kind of people who refers to reality for fiction I consume but people who prefer to top or to bottom exist (2) i want to be away from accountability and responsibility. Nope. The reason I made it is because I wanted to gather people with same interest as mine. 
4. I paint Yusuf as aggressive and the whole discord like him being an aggressive top. I think this is the only reason why the discord is seen in a negative light. Because wow what a coincidence that someone vagueblogged my discord at the day I celebrated about Nicky suggesting 20 years and wrote a post about how Joe is allowed to be angry. And beside someone made the WRONG assumption that we are focusing on Joe’s anger and violence (what). Okay, I don’t know how to break this down. But I will try. First, yes I was overjoyed at the news. Because I’m one of the people that do not like feral!nicky headcanon. I liked it at first bc it was funny but then it was twisted into Nicky being cold. So I don’t like it (lol), I still like it though but like I don’t seriously think that way. However, I never liked the idea that Nicky suggested higher than Joe. Because then his character just doesn’t click with me, there was a cognitive dissonance for me because joe clearly says nicky’s heart overflows kindness, you can see nicky as a medic in the credit montage. Also, from their body language and from the way the movie set em up, I think Joe is the one who suggested higher and I am glad to be proven right. Second, I did write a post about how Joe is allowed to be angry at Booker. People agreed with me, so I was not alone. But the reason I wrote that post is not because I wanted to paint yusuf as aggressive, but because I’m tired at people who think Joe shouldn’t display any negative emotions. I think it’s out of character. I do NOT think Joe is aggressive. That is NOT his wholeass personality. If you looked at my tog art tag, never once I portrayed Joe as anything aggressive. If I do, please show me. Third, people are conflating this with my post where I reblogged with a comment that implies aggressive Joe isn’t racism. Okay in this, the context is IN BED. It’s Joe being aggressive in BED. It’s literally BED ROLES AND FANTASY. I don’t even have a particular scenario in my head when I reblogged that, the original post clearly refers to bed roles with manhandling and kinks etc. like, why would you spank someone in public? Lastly, about the discord, NOPE, most people in the discord agree that Joe is either a GENTLE DOM or SERVICE TOP. But in my opinion, if someone likes Joe as an aggressive top (again, bed roles baby) I really don’t think it’s racism. It’s just... projection? 
anyway, back to joe’s emotions, these are posts from a moroccan man (paragraph #7) and a brown woman whose posts I agree with. Let’s be real, people of color are expected to shut up in favor of white people’s fragile feelings.
Now, about racism in fandom. I understand the concern because muslim men are painted as violent and aggressive. You know what I will never forgive those radicals for taking away innocents lives and to leave a lasting damage in how muslims are perceived in the west. However, you have to keep in mind, Joe in the movie is far from being stereotyped. I mean, Gina and Marwan practically greenlit him? Now, you might have concerns that writers are gonna turn him into a walking stereotype which is... okay, I understand that concern. But the solution is to communicate this ‘hey I think you make him too stereotypical in this etc etc’ not “write more top!nicky AND shame top!joe” because again, top!joe is not inherently racist.
also some people mentioned that they hope I recognize racial bias in the ship. dude, that goes without saying, all aspects of your life will be influenced by racial biases. however, this kind of thing is not specific to fandom/shipping. Like I said I’m fucking brown, friends and families with facial features that cater to white expectation are treated better. I did say at the bottom of this post, yeah I did notice why it’s always a brown character who’s always openly mad. And that’s in itself a form of racial bias. Racial biases affect everyone, white or POC, it doesn’t matter. But I got an issue with how people think this is racism. like how convenient, if by falling to racial biases mean you are a racist then what about those white people who created this racial biases in the first place? and I noticed the persons who got the audacity to cry about everything in this fandom is white?? I mean okay, they don’t know what I am, but not everyone is comfortable with sharing their private information like ethnic group, faith, etc. what if they really don’t want to share it? Because like you said, racial bias, whether good or bad will affect me. Now, I don’t know what white people are feeling, I’m not white. However, based on my interactions with them. We’re all just people sharing same interest, it could be they fall into racial biases, but all we shared about are just regular HCs. Even people making a conscious effort to combat racial bias still in essence fall for racial bias. You just cannot escape it.
According to this post, fandom assumes that the bottom is the proxy of writers, I don’t think this is applicable to everyone but let’s just say it’s true and people tend to write about their projection better so I’m gonna assume the racism part comes from the fact that..yeah I do think the bottom usually gets more fleshed out as a result of them being the writers proxy, so somebody posted this in the discord which I agree because yes I do think there’s a lack about yusuf’s background especially when it comes to crusade era:
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but since I know most writers aren’t muslims, to me it’s not so much about racism but they simply know nothing about it, and not always out of ignorance either but in this climate, if you get a thing or two wrong you’d get harassed. so *shrugs* I understand the reluctancy. But here’s the thing, this is not about top/bottom issue but because most of the fandom are white so they have more freedom in writing the white character. Anyway, plenty of people have projected themselves into yusuf already, the whole “top/bottom” thing in this fandom is not even a thing. Yes, some writers project on the bottom so if you prefer bottom!joe that’s fine, somebody in the discord is doing a research and it turned out top!joe wasn’t even a CLEAR majority in JULY. So clearly they got their share already?
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so please, let’s stop with the vitriol. if people are preferring top!joe it’s clearly because of different preferences. it’s not that deep. it’s the same way with how some people are preferring top!nicky. But we’re being driven out based on a hypothetical scenarios? like what do you want? for us to cease existing??? don’t be ridiculous.
I know people won’t listen to me. So this is my suggestion: LETS JUST IGNORE THINGS YOU DON’T LIKE. LET’S ALL JUST AGREE TO DISAGREE. 
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toomanyrobins · 3 years
Text
a little birdie told me pt. 7
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Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business”
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader
Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, cursing, mentions of forced marriage
Word Count: 2.3k
Notes: thank you to @firefly-graphics for the team cap divider! Makes my life much easier! 💛 
Series masterlist // next part
The next morning, Steve heard someone clearing their throat. He opened his eyes to see a familiar face standing at the foot of his bed with his arms crossed. “Peter, what the hell are you doing?”
“What the hell am I doing! What the hell are you doing? Why is my sister in your bed?”
Steve looked down and saw Y/N burrowed under the sheets. He knew she hadn’t been sleeping well and hated to wake her up. “Let’s go talk in the kitchen.” he put on the coffee maker before turning back to his fuming friend, “Birdie stayed over last night after I had to rush home because Jaime was sick. She stayed to help with him and we fell asleep.”
The tension started to leave Peter, “Oh, is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. Look, I get that you’re especially overprotective since Y/N came home but if she had woken up first and saw you, she would’ve been pissed. We are both adults and don’t deserve to be treated like criminals for what we decide to do.”
“You’re talking like something might happen.”
“Do you want to hear it?” Peter nodded, “Yes, I like your sister. She’s amazing and I enjoy every second I spend with her. I don’t care about her past and I hope she doesn’t care about mine. We both have made choices and we live with the consequences.”
“You like my sister...how long?”
“I don’t know. She used to just be your sister, the other half to the problematic duo that was her and Becca. Since she’s been back, something has changed.”
“Is this your savior complex?” Peter scoffed at the scandalized look on Steve’s face, “Don’t look like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Before I grew up, I was as strong as a limp noodle, and you and Bucky were always there to pull someone off of me. I just want to be sure you actually want Y/N because she’s Y/N and not because you think she needs saving."
“This isn't like you picking fights with guys double your size. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Parker. But whatever relationship I choose to have will be between us and I hope you can understand that. Because I won’t be the one to make her choose.”
“I hate you a little bit for this,” he ran a hand through his already unruly hair, “I kind of want to punch you.”
“Well Bucky punched Sam when he proposed to Becca. If I get that far, you can punch me.”
“Fine,” Peter took the cup of coffee Steve gave him. “So, when are you going to tell her?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, I’m scared she’ll say she’s not interested.”
“Well, I’d do it fast, before someone else notices how great she is.”
The duo decided to switch over to discussing some business, until they heard some noise coming from the baby monitor. Peter knew he should leave Y/N woke and made a quick escape. Steve walked back into his room, opened the curtains, and put a cup of coffee on the bedside table closest to Y/N. He peeled the blankets back and shook her softly. The only response he got was a grumble and her burying her face in the pillow. He decided to grab Jamie and let her slowly start to wake up. The baby at least was happy to see him that morning and kept saying dada over and over again. Steve brought Jamie into his room like he did every morning and put him on the bed next to Y/N. He immediately started to climb on top of her, wanting attention. “Sweetheart, you have to wake up. We have a visitor.”
“What?” The throaty morning voice that she spoke with sent shivers down Steve’s spine. She slowly sat up and kissed Jamie.
He handed her the mug. “A guy could get used to mornings like this: coffee, baby, and a pretty girl.”
Her face grew warm, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crash so hard.”
“No need to apologize. We were all tired. Drink your coffee and I’ll drop you off on my way to the Ivory.” The trio moved slowly, enjoying the lazy morning. It hit Steve how comfortable and easy this morning was and that he wanted this to happen again. Their eyes connected in the mirror and she smiled at him. He spun around, “Would you be my date to the holiday party?”
“You want me to be your date?” Steve nodded and she bit her lip, “Yeah, I’d really like that, Stevie.”
He groaned, “What have I said about calling me that?”
“Follow through and I’ll stop.” He chuckled at her cheeky response and finished getting ready. They managed to get out the door on time and while she was bent over buckling Jamie in, she felt a sting on her ass. She whirled around, shock painted her face, “Did you just spank me?”
“You told me to follow through. I’m just doing what I’m told.” Steve walked to the driver’s side, leaving Y/N standing beside the car, a smile on her face.
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A week later, Y/N walked into Steve’s apartment, garment bag draped over her arm, make up and hair already done. They had agreed that she would come over to help with Jamie and they would finish getting ready together. All of them would be spending the night in rooms at the Ivory since this party was known to get rowdy. She was glad to see that their overnight bags were packed for the night and she put hers down as she called out for him. “I’m in the bedroom!” She found him standing in the center of the room in just his trousers and unbuttoned dress shirt. He had a look of deep concentration, his tongue peaking out between his lips as he struggled with his shirt. Y/N laid her dress on the bed before Steve threw his hands up, “Can you help me with these damned cufflinks?”
She laughed at his struggle, laying her things on his bed and taking his sleeve in her hands. “I can’t believe you still are wearing these things.” They had been a gag gift from her their first Christmas after he became her guard. She had bought him Tweety Bird cufflinks and told him that he would always have a little birdie with him even if she ran away from him. She switched arms, “How did you get anything done before me, Rogers?”
Steve looked down at her, “I’m not quite sure, Birdie.” She stepped closer to him and started doing up the buttons of his shirt like it was a common practice between them. He held his breath, worried that the intimate moment would end if he made any quick movements. When she reached the top, she smoothed his collar down, her fingertips grazing his neck. She put her hands on his chest and smiled up at him, “There. Now I’m sure you’re capable of tucking your own shirt in. Yes?”
He simply nodded, worried at what pitch his voice would come out. Y/N grabbed her dress and walked into the en-suite bathroom to change. Steve took a deep breath, his skin burning where her fingers had brushed. He walked into his closet, trying to decide on which tie to wear. His decision making was interrupted by his name being called again, “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Could you zip me up? I can’t get it.” Steve cursed up his breath, this girl was going to be the death of him. He walked into the bathroom and got the first look at the dress Y/N had been hiding from him. She spun around, letting the skirt swirl, “Worth the wait?”
“You look gorgeous.” Y/N blushed at his compliment and turned around so that he could zip her up. He purposefully took his time, dragging his finger along her back even after he reached the top of the zipper. When he reached the base of her neck, he left a lingering kiss where his hand stopped and walked out without another word.  She let forehead come to rest against the cool countertop as she tried to get her hormones under control. The two of them had been playing this cat-and-mouse game for too long and it was leaving the both of them incredibly sexually frustrated.
Y/N had picked Steve’s tie to match her dress, ignoring his smirk when she chose it. He put everything in the car and the trio drove over to the Ivory. Steve’s hand found its way to rest on her thigh as she sang along loudly to the Christmas music on the radio. They handed the keys to the valet and made their way up to their adjoining rooms. Steve and Y/N quickly dressed Jamie up in his little suit that was too almost too cute to handle. She pulled on her heels and straightened his tie before they made their way down to the ballroom and marveled at the expert work that had been done. Tony and Pepper had decided on a White Christmas theme and the decorations were done to recreate the final scene of the movie. Giant trees were in every corner of the room and garland was strung across the room. An orchestra in the corner was playing music and everyone was in their finest outfits. They greeted their families and everyone was passing around well-wishes. They were complimented on what a striking pair they made and She tried to hide how flustered she was by Steve’s hand coming around to her waist and pull her closer.
Suddenly, Y/N heard her name being called. She spun around and groaned when she realized it was Alice Jones calling for her. That bitch had made her life hell in high school and the last thing she wanted to do was make small talk with her gang of women. She threw her shoulders back, plastered a fake smile and made her way over. Alice greeted her with a kiss of both cheeks, making Y/N roll her eyes internally. All of the women greeted her like they were old friends.
It did not take long for each woman to be trying to up the other of how great their lives were. Thousands of dollars worth of jewelry was flashed as they bragged about their husbands and fiances. Suddenly all of the women were looking past Y/N and fixing their appearances. She looked over her shoulder, confused, and realized that Steve was coming their way. He nodded quickly at the women before turning to Y/N, “Could you take Jamie for me? I need to discuss some things and his cuteness is a distraction.”
“Of course. Give me my little man,” she made grabby hands and Steve handed the baby over, who was all too happy to be with her. He babbled away as he played with her necklace.
The blonde gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for this. I shouldn’t be too long.”
When Y/N turned back to the group, they were all looking at her like she had grown another head. She laughed awkwardly as they bombarded her with questions. She tried to answer them gracefully and without giving away any actual information. No one but she and Steve were entitled to know what they were to each other and if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t even sure where they stood. They had become incredibly close since she had been back, even more than before and it seemed that they were both waiting for something to push them over the edge and it never seemed to come.
She let her eyes roam over the ballroom. Indy and Peter were off to one side looking like they were discussing something serious as she tried to get him to put down his drink. George and Tony were off to the side speaking with the latter’s old friend, Colonel Rhodes. She watched Steve shake a man’s hand and then walk over to the bar and start talking to Bucky. Alice placed a hand on Y/N’s bare arm, drawing her attention back, “Well we are so glad to see that you’ve finally settled down,” The group of women tittered away, “I mean I remember in high school how all over the place you were. A nightmare! You’ll have to tell us how little old you managed to snag Steve Rogers.”
Y/N smiled at Alice, “Well I suppose I was a bit all over the place. Not all of us can spend so much of our time in one place on our knees. If you ladies will excuse me.” She quickly made her escape and headed towards the bar. Y/N’s attention was drawn away by Steve and Bucky, who quickly traded her a drink for Jamie when he saw the stormy expression on her face. “What a loathsome bitch.” Steve snickered at the disdain in her voice and looked over to see that the group of women was watching them. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, partially shielding her from their gaze. He was sure it looked like he was whispering dirty secrets to her and it wouldn’t take much for him to start. They had been swirling through his head all night. “You’re an amazing woman. Don’t let them get to you.” Her grip slowly relaxed on the champagne flute and Steve nodded as he ran his fingers along her spine, “Good girl.” Y/N tried to hide the fact that the praise from him had any affect on her, but he knew her and noticed the slight shiver that ran down her back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@founding-fuck-bois
@animegirlgeeky
@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters
@directorsnarrative
@marvelofwitch
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lambourngb · 2 years
Text
tagged meme - 11 questions
I was tagged by @adamsparirsh - and basically interrogated here 😂 Was I only supposed to answer your questions or all of them? I went with all of them because I’m bored and my adhd is not letting me do much else. Sorry and thank you!
33 questions and answers - very self-indulgent of me.
1. What social media are you most active on and why?
tumblr my behated- but I am trying to change that in 2022.
2. What’s your most detested fanfiction trope?
oh, that’s a strong word detested... I guess spite-fic aimed at a main character.
3. If you have to bring something homemade to work/a party/a potluck, what are you bringing?
in a world where I have time to make something- probably baked strata or 5-cheese baked pasta.
4. If you’d make the choice now and easily could afford whatever school you wanted, would you start studying something, and if yes, what?
If I didn’t have PTSD about college/testing because of years of undiagnosed ADHD... I guess anthropology?
5. What was your favourite childhood movie?
The Man from Snowy River- and still is.
6. What’s something that’s clearly trash but you enjoy nonetheless? Can be a book, a movie, a game…
the fast and the furious movies - I know Paul Walker is problematic but man, the homoerotic tension in those early movies was ... inspiring.
7. If you had the means (and the energy), would you go full interior designer!Eddie and change out your decor every season?
No, but I would want to remodel my bathroom (just the once!)
8. Do you have a favourite band/artist?
Jason Isbell
9. What kind of vacation is your dream vacation?
something that combines the beaches and the mountains- I really like riding on the beach and waterfalls. Basically take me back to Iceland.
10. What’s your favourite chocolate?
I only eat chocolate when I’m PMSing, I don’t like the taste otherwise, so Hershey Bar. It’s dull lol
11. Who’s the most interesting person you’ve met?
Stanley Tucci
1. What is your favorite month and why?
I also love October - the heat breaks enough to be pleasant without being cold.
2. What is your least favorite month and why?
December. I’m not very good at holidays
3. Have you ever sung karaoke? If not, do you want to? If so, what’s your go-to song?
I have a terrible singing voice, so no. I admire people who aren’t self-concious.
4. What’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?
It wasn’t given to me personally but I read a Captain Awkward column many years ago, where she said “people who like you will act like they like you” - harder in the digital age, and also I have a habit of not noticing time passing, an ADHD thing, where I think I just saw someone but it really 4 months ago. So that advice has helped me in friendships.. and her second best advice is, you can say no to things by saying “That does not work for me”. It shuts down discussion, and keeps people from negotiating past your No.
5. If you could take a one-week vacation right now (money/responsibilities not an issue), where would you go and what would you do?
I’d like to go to the Maldives. Some place warm right now.
6. What’s the first movie you remember making you cry?
The never-ending story - Artax in the mud was hard on a horse-crazy girl.
7. What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? The best?
I still work for this company, but I used to be an assistant to the position I have, and the supervisor was lazy, controlling, ignorant of the business and threatened by my work ethic- she frequently slashed my hours so she could be seen as important but then the work load got to be too much and she was let go. I used to repeat to myself every morning the Sun Tzu proverb “I shall wait by the river and the bodies of my enemies will float by me” - and it did come true. I got her job. I have outlasted anyone who doesn’t work hard and honestly. But my friends thought I was stupid for staying. I was extremely patient and put up with almost 2 years of bullshit, but now I’m my own boss basically.
8. What was your favorite board game to play as a kid?
RISK - I was almost an International Affairs major.
9. If you could be best friends with any fictional character, who would it be?
Veronica Mars - at least season 1 girl.
10. What is a really random talent you have?
I have good recall of information/things I read.
11. If you could have an hour-long conversation with any historical figure, who would it be?
I would love to talk to David Bowie.
1. societal expectations be damned, what would you do to your hair if you could?
I wish I had the money for extensions - I have very thin hair, and would love to have thick wavy hair.
2. what is your favorite tv show and why?
Lewis - and I have to ignore Lawrence Fox being a IRL prick, but I loved the whole Oxford gentle detective vibe, everyone had big libraries or gardens, Lewis was a crusty but kind man grieving his wife, Hathaway was a repressed but clever partner. I really can escape and watch that show.
3. is there a character (in any book, movie, show, play, etc) that you relate to? why do you relate to them?
Michael Burnham on Discovery - mainly because I spent my chiildhood and some of my adulthood trying to be as emotionless as possible, and the way she did the same after being raised on Vulcan resonates. The safety of knowledge and being competent over actually talking to messy people... oh yes, very much a baby L thing.
4. what is a phrase that you say all the time, and has anyone picked it up from you?
“that does not work for me” - and I taught it to all my female friends, especially the ones who bent over backwards to make some dude happy without getting anything in return.
5. what was your favorite age to be and why?
Tough question... the times when I had less responsibility, I also was very alone and lonely, and no control over my life (childhood). I spent my 20s feeling like I needed to measure myself against other people’s success - and therefore was miserable because I felt like a failure. 30s had more peace personally but that’s when my mom’s drinking really got out of control. I guess when I was 18 and my first semester at college - I really liked that time of my life even though I was very dysfunctional with my un-diagnosed depression/adhd - but consequences hadn’t sunk in yet? I’m hoping my favorite age is still to come.
6. who is someone you would like to speak to, dead or alive? what would you ask them?
I never met my mom’s mom or dad. I would like to meet them, see if I could figure out what happened to my mom as a child/young adult- she papered over the cracks for a long time but now with her dementia, you’re getting glimpses of trauma.
7. what’s your favorite season and why?
Fall. I have an extensive boot collection and I like to wear them dresses - but every dress with a sleeve is annoying to me, lol. So I need cool enough weather for a light cardigan but not too hot for knee-high boots.
8. how would you describe yourself in three words? how would your friends describe you in three words?
Loyal, inquisitive, and empathetic - and my friends would probably call me logical, wry, and cooperative.
9. do you have a favorite flower? what is it?
Iris - I can’t grow them, but I love tall bearded irises. in deep purples.
10. what is your favorite type of article of clothing to wear? (i.e. sweaters, jeans, t-shirts, soft socks, etc)
a sleeveless cotton dress or tunic - if I’m home alone, the shorter the better lol.
11. do you have a favorite card game? what is it?
Gin Rummy - it’s something my dad and I would play for hours, particularly at the beach. the beach required being completely unplugged, so playing cards on the towel under the umbrella. We also used to play watching baseball on television.
tagging anyone who got to the end of this - please do it and tag me in return
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Is Rob Thomas Jealous of Taylor Sheridan’s Success?
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Remember when Taylor Sheridan was nominated for an Oscar for ‘Hell Or High Water’? Although Rob Thomas did congratulate him for his nomination, some people detected some sarcastic undertone within his tweet. Don’t know whether they are friends in real life or not, but many suspected that RT was a bit envious that TS was nominated for Best Writing.
Before he was famous as a great screenwriter who also wrote the acclaimed ‘Sicario’ franchise, he appeared as a recurring character Danny Boyd in VMars. You may remember Danny Boyd; one of the cousins of the Fitzpatrick and specifically Liam’s right-hand man. He also played the great Sheriff/Deputy Chief Hale from Sons of Anarchy. After many stints as recurring characters in many shows, he started to write a screenplay. Sicario is a film about Cartel hitmen and Narcos. Very well written and made, and it made him a household name.
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This is why fans took notice when Rob started to inserted many Narcos-style storylines about a cartel hitman in Neptune (season 4 VMars). The plot was weak and seemed out of place from the whole VMars vibe. Rob wanted to put every ingredient that made Cartel drama, Noir, Comedy, and Romance into this one miniseries, he forgot about the characters and what made it good in the first place. He wanted to be taken as a “serious” writer so much, he forgot that he was using an existing show with a different vibe and insisted that the show was matured. He wanted the show to be Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, Sons of Anarchy, Sicario... but he ended up using all the tropes into this blender and the result is a mess. It’s like making ice cream but then he decided to add some onions just to spice things up.
Rob is well known to ‘borrow’ many plots and storylines from his favorite movies into his shows. He claims that it’s more of a homage. But when every episode of his shows is some kind of homage of something, it bears a question of whether he could write an original story or not.
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Taylor Sheridan’s Sicario was less about the hitmen plot but more about the characters. Many shows like Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, and many more are about the characters and how much they are written brilliantly. Fans love the shows not just because of the plots (although they are good), but because of the characters. Fans care about them and want to see more of them. The plots are there to accompany them, not the other way around.
Rob thinks to get taken seriously is to have all those plots into one giant bowl. He forgot about the characters; therefore he forgot what made the show brilliant. He forgot (or ignore) why the show was great; it was all about the characters. And the fact that he is also jealous (based on his tweets back then) about his fellow creators, kinda cemented the idea that he is stuck in an old school writing that he is accustomed to and not liking the idea that other writers from his generation are more successful and more acclaimed than him.
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What he said about Taylor Sheridan made people frown. He said, “Hey remember this guy who played this loser Danny Boyd?” (Paraphrasing, of course) and then he posted an unflattering picture of the character. “I made him!” I think many fans pointed out on Twitter that he was only joking, but could feel the jealousy seeping through the tweet.
When Jessica Chastain was nominated for an Oscar, he also tweeted, “I am assuming Jessica Chastain will thank me profusely in her acceptance speech tonight. Veronica Mars made her career!” Fans of Chastain (who didn’t know who he was and thought that he was the singer of Matchbox 20) immediately roasted him on Twitter, calling him out, and got angry because this man claiming that her success was because of him. He immediately said that he was only joking and that he was proud of her, that an Oscar nominee used to be on his show.
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But this has become a pattern, that when someone he knew suddenly become successful, he would joke that they should thank him. Fans were surprised that he never said anything about Tessa Thompson’s success and soaring career when he was on Twitter, but glad that he didn’t. The only actors that always praising Tessa Thompson are Percy Daggs III, Erica Gimpel, Francis Capra, Jason Dohring, and Kyle Gallner. Fans never heard Rob Thomas said anything about her, but maybe that was a good thing. Tessa Thompson mentioned that she had a bad experience on the set of VMars because of the way they treated her character and the fact that they straightened her curly hair so it wouldn't look “ghetto”, and the fact that Rob wrote her character as a punching bag.
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Back to Taylor Sheridan, the man is now known as a successful writer-director who directed “Wind River”, a movie about the rape and murder of a Native American girl on tribal lands, and is meant to provoke conversation about the exploitation experienced by indigenous women. When the movie was bought by The Weinstein Company, Taylor Sheridan threatened to destroy the movie after Harvey Weinstein's scandals. “I said, if my movie’s going to die, I’ll be the one to kill it,” Sheridan said in an interview. “I will take my name off it, and publicly denounce it. I would have said, don’t go see this movie, don’t rent it, don’t watch it. If he was going to remain publicly attached if he was going to benefit from a film highlighting the atrocity he perpetrated? No.” He also demanded that the proceeds from the movie would be given to charity and women’s organizations.
He was ready to nuke his own movie before letting it live on with Weinstein branding. Some of us always pondered... Whether Rob would even do the same thing (denounce his movie, giving the film money to charity, etc)? Judging by his own scandalous iZombie tv show when Robert Knepper guest-starred in the show it seems he wouldn't nor care. He never publicly comment about Robert Knepper and his rape allegations. The only people who commented were the actors like Rahul Kohli, Malcolm Goodwin, Robert Buckley, and Rose McIver. Maybe the people (Rob and Diane) who write rape in every show as plot devices but not as raising awareness are not really feminists as they claimed to be.
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Taylor Sheridan might not be the next great screenwriter; occasionally his works are problematic. He is this manly Marlboro man writer who writes about men even when he writes about feminist stuff. His female characters sometimes are white and pretty with the tendency of damsel in distress or white saviors. But at least he is trying to hone his skill to be a better writer. We will see more about his future in interest. In conclusion, Taylor Sheridan, the glorified extra from Veronica Mars probably deserves those recognitions. Rob Thomas can steam.
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gesternchen · 3 years
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Just randomly reviewing scenes from the movies no one remembers now. This week: Avatar (2009).
It’s not like everyone forgot James Cameron’s Avatar. Since we’re still getting some footage from behind the scenes of the sequel and news about the cast, at least someone takes pains to remind themselves of this cinematic experience from the year of 2009. It’s already been 84 (just kidding, 11) years and I’m still looking forward to at least watching the teaser (fun fact: I was 11 when Avatar came out, I’m 22 now). I even bought the Darkhorse comic book on Tsu’Tey’s backstory to, you know, investigate one of my favorite characters a little bit better (spoiler: the backstory wasn’t very much eventful but I noticed a nice detail there which I may talk about briefly a bit later).
Throughout the years Avatar has received a lot of backlash and more or less justified criticism, mainly for the plot and its problematic packaging. I believe, it depends on the perspective one watches a movie from. Of course, I wouldn’t call it an absolute gem of exciting storytelling, even though I truly enjoy it, as in majority its twists are undeniably predictable. However, I always disagreed with people saying relations in Avatar aren’t deep at all. Well, romance between Jake and Neytiri, which, let’s be honest, except for the scene of telling the truth, went too smoothly, and this is why I strongly believe clash of interests is inevitable in sequels. Their interaction remained the key one for the whole movie, and nothing is bad about that, people enjoy a nice lovestory, so do I. But 11 years after I’d like to focus on the disturbing conflict everyone prefers to ignore for some reason when recalling Avatar. For me it’s always been Jake versus Colonel Quaritch.
You guys may have already guessed which scenes I wanna talk about. Those really important ones that I consider climactic to the pace of narration. And what is more about them, they give us crucial details in character development and actors’ play to think through. The main message: Quaritch knew it was coming.
Let me firstly touch upon the scene of short conversation between Jake and Quaritch prior to Sully presumably leaving Pandora. While Jake is awating Quaritch in a large empty hall, he hardly seems to be calm about the talk, every nerve in his body is trembling, but why?
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The way Jake’s drumming his fingers on the table makes me wonder if he’s okay.
Then Colonel enters the hall, grabs a chair and reminds that it had been more than two weeks since he got the latest report on how the misson was going. He knows, Sully is questioning reality, and no, he’s not ‘doubting his resolve’. He knows, the right moment to ‘terminate the mission’ is missed. He knows, he lost Jake. He knows, he’s talking to the deserter. Yet Quaritch speaks indifferent. He praises Jake’s effort and rewards him for that. With real legs he promised to him when they first talked. Quaritch hoped they’d trigger the realization in Jake. Which doesn’t happen. How sad he looks when Jake openly refuses to accept the reward.
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In just one sequence Stephen’s face demonstrates the shift of all four feelings Quaritch goes through: dissatisfaction, melancholy, shame, disgust.
Quaritch sensed the moment when Jake expressed superiority to the mankind. Jake grasped that Quaritch knew everything, he played with fire, and that’s why he felt anxiety. And it lasted all the way until Quaritch stepped back for leaving the hall. But did Colonel really surrender? I doubt that.
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The tension between them both feels electric, so it’s explainable why Jake’s transient smile is so awkward. Sam then heavily staring straight at Colonel's back suggests that up until now Jake regarded Quaritch as his enemy. The enemy he knew he would not be able to defeat.
I remember when watching this scene, I couldn’t get myself the answer to one question. The question was: which report did Quaritch refer to? ‘That report from two weeks ago’, but such information wasn’t satisfactory for me. To be honest, this small discovery became the actual reason why I decided to type this study. Let’s assume that this particular report which Quaritch mentioned was the videolog where Jake confessed that Omaticaya wouldn’t leave the Hometree. Here’s why.
The general audience is used to perceiving Quaritch as a cruel short-tempered military man who just waits for the starting pistol’s shot to destroy everything in sight. Again, nothing is wrong about this, the fact that his character was simply meant to be a generic personification of such type doesn’t leave us with any alternative impression of him. Let’s say, if he was given the order to ignite the operation of the Hometree’s destruction to screw the tribe out of the site, he would absolutely go for it (and so he does). He’s a man of his word after all. Let’s also say, if he was pissed off by Jake’s betrayal, he would transport himself to the mountain site in a blink of an eye, turn off the link and put Jake in jail right after the talk in the hall. Instead, Quaritch decided to wait and give Jake the last chance. Jake preffered unearthly wings to those more tangible, so Quaritch chose not to cut them so abruptly.
We’re moving to the next scene, taking place right before a toned down fight between Tsu’Tey and Jake (I’m saying so, because it’s actually one of the deleted scenes that got edited out of the final cut, and believe me, the pressure between two rivals there is way too intense). Quaritch is watching the record of Jake destroying bulldozer’s lenses with a stone. After that Jake’s face is zoomed and we watch Selfridge get frustrated, Quaritch looks pretty annoyed as well but doesn’t seem to be much surprised. What he’s feeling, is bitter disappointment in himself and knowing that he totally failed to persuade Jake to change his mind.
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Just observe Stephen Lang’s performance here. He absolutely nails cold-eyed look, the fire burning slow inside of him is so palpable, and guess what, in a flash he flies off the handle.
Now, shall we check the ultimate scene, preceding the destruction of the Hometree. Though Grace versus Parker juxtaposition is central to this scene, the last time Quaritch confronting Jake face to face in his human body is essential to consider for making things clear.
When it comes to revealing to Selfridge the vainness of further negotiations with Omaticaya, isn’t it just interesting how fast Quaritch manages to find the correct videolog? It literally takes him not more than a couple of swipes to produce the proof. Here is why: he’s already watched the record and is completely aware of the Jake’s values having deteriorated.
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You can tell, Jake knew he was under control, but he would rather like to ingnore this fact. His pathetic glance at Quaritch, who’s almost impending above his head, causes to think Jake would guess that Colonel could have watched this videolog. Rather, it was a mutual secret between the two of them until a turning point. But the moment of truth came, and Jake didn’t change his mind. Quaritch made sure of that and finally it was his time to triumph.
So how was it even possible to assume Quaritch may have watched the videolog I’ve been talking about for so long? Well, my explanation may be too easy to believe, but still: we can tell by Jake’s appearance and the date of the record that it is the vlog we need.
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This telltale videolog was recorded 16 minutes after the another one, when Jake says that he’s uncertain, who he is anymore (LST abbreviation stands for Local Standard Time). Jake might have suddenly felt depressed and hopeless and got back to the camera while being too emotionally instable, and so must have forgotten to delete the final record.
I have one more note for you. If you check the videolog library Quaritch is swiping through, you’ll see that the latest important record, which he actually needs, is made in the interior of the mountain site block and dates back to August, 13. Other recent vlogs’ covers look nothing like Site 26 sequence. Jake may not have done any of these records at the mountain site. I still wonder though where those three or four ensuing videologs were recorded, the location seems to be red lighted, which means it isn’t blue lighting at Site 26. I may even assume he recorded some pieces at Hell’s Gate. Why would I think so? Probably because in those two scenes (dialog with Quaritch and confession at Parker’s office) Jake looks ten times better than before, he gained some weight at least and doesn’t resemble a living sceleton.
Selfridge gave Jake an hour to relocate the tribe, while gunships led by Colonel’s Dragon were already on full alert. Quaritch had no doubt that Jake’s peacekeeping mission would fail. He knew it from the beginning. Hence he sounds so sarcastic seeing Sully’s avatar tied.
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Now Quaritch sipping his villain’s morning coffee tasting like fresh genocide doesn’t feel so cringy: he’s celebrating his victory over Jake (still I should agree with critisism on this point, it really is a stupid cliche and wasn’t intended to carry a deep meaning).
Now I should admit, it’s been a long journey to run this investigation and bring it to light by finally posting it. It took me around a day to collect my thoughts and express them by means of more or less readable English. Just would like to make a little side note: English is not my native, so I promise I did my best! Thanks to James Cameron for making a movie, which woke me up in the middle of the night to start reflecting, and to all the fans out there who still exist and remember this movie and so can read this essay. @avatarmovies I found your blog not so long ago and you guys say you enjoy headcanons (and movie reviews probably?..), so it would be nice if you reblogged this but I’m not insisting!!
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backtothestart02 · 3 years
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Just Best Friends - 6/? | westallen fanfiction
A/N: This chap’s a little shorter, but the end of the angst is just around the corner! And the following chaps should be back to normal length. I hope you enjoy. :)
...
Chapter 6 -
Barry sped straight home after his…interlude with Iris.
More like an explosion, he thought. Interlude was putting it nicely.
He had done pretty well keeping Joe out of the loop so far, at least as far as the cheating was concerned. He’d come up with one excuse after another that surprisingly the older man had bought. It even got to the point where they could hang out, watch movies, whatever, and Joe wouldn’t question him about what happened just a few weeks ago the night Iris almost slept over.
And while he didn’t know if he’d be spilling that particular news tonight, he wouldn’t be surprised if it came up. He supposed to was his own fault Iris found out he was the Flash. He really shouldn’t have let her kiss him, and he shouldn’t have kissed her back. But even after Linda had totally rocked his world, and he’d still been bitter at Iris, due to their conversation, he found he couldn’t resist Iris even if he tried, even if she didn’t realize who she was really kissing.
He should’ve known the familiarity of his kissing style would’ve been a red flag.
Did that mean he was predictable and so would be a boring kisser if they had gotten together?
He supposed he’d never know now. Now that Iris knew he was the Flash, she wouldn’t be kissing him in or out of the suit ever again.
But Joe needed to know that she knew. It was late. Past 11. But Barry couldn’t wait until morning. He’d probably get an earful from the man, but he knew it was what he deserved. He also needed advice on what to do next, and he knew he’d get it. That was the important part. The outcome. He could deal with Iris the next day. If she didn’t go home immediately and tell Eddie, of course. That would be even more problematic, given Eddie’s opinion of the Flash in the past.
He tried not to think about that.
Finally arriving in the house, he sped to the top of the stairs and started calling for Joe. He flung open his bedroom door, expecting to find him in bed, but he wasn’t there.
“Joe?”
“I’m down here, Barry.”
Barry sped downstairs and found Joe walking out of the kitchen. He frowned.
“What are you still doing up?”
Joe took a sip out of the coffee mug he was holding.
“I woke up hungry, so I decided to come down for a snack and some warm milk.”
“Oh.”
Joe’s brows furrowed together.
“Why are you in your Flash suit? Out patrolling?”
“Uh…no. I…went to see Iris actually.”
His eyes widened. It was clear he didn’t know what was going on, but he sensed something was wrong.
“Barry…”
He took a deep breath.
“She knows I’m the Flash, Joe.”
“What?!” He nearly dropped his mug. Carefully, he set it down. “You told her?”
“No!” Barry took a few steps back. “Of course not! I told you I wouldn’t!”
“Then, how? How do you know that she knows? Were you not…vibrating your voice?”
“No, I was! I’m always careful.”
Joe was clearly aggravated.
“What aren’t you telling me, Barry? How does Iris know?”
“She pushed my cowl back when we were… When we…” He froze.
“When you were what?” he demanded.
Barry gulped. “When we were kissing,” he said timidly.
Joe’s eyes widened again.
“Oh.”
“Yeah…”
“I didn’t know you two were…as the Flash, I mean.”
“We weren’t! She left a message on her blog, saying she wanted to meet. I thought she wanted to talk, not…make out.”
“You made out?” Joe scrunched up his nose. He had not been prepared for this discussion, clearly.
“…yeah.” Barry held his breath. “Sorry. It’d just been so long since-”
“Wait, since? You’ve made out with her before? As, as…Barry?”
Barry’s mouth ran dry. Before he could recover to say another word, the front door slammed open, and in walked Iris.
“Oh, good,” she said bitterly. “I’ve caught you red-handed.”
She looked Barry up and down, and he had a nasty feeling she was not checking him out.
“Iris!” he said, shocked and unnerved. She wasn’t supposed to be here. “What are you doing here?”
“Demanding answers!” She came in and shut the door behind her. Barry tensed. Joe watched her warily. “From both of you.”
Barry gulped, and Iris sat down.
“Go on. I’m waiting.”
“I think I deserve some answers first,” Joe said, approaching her.
Iris narrowed her eyebrows.
“That’s ballsy. You two have been keeping this secret from me, since when? Months? Almost a year? What have I possibly not told you?”
“How about when you and Barry made out?”
Her eyes shot daggers at Barry, who only made a slight attempt to avoid her gaze.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises tonight,” she spat.
“You can’t tell Eddie I’m the Flash, Iris.” Barry stepped forward.
“Why not? I’m already keeping one lie from him. I’m not keeping another.”
“That was your choice. I told you to tell him.”
She got to her feet. “He would’ve broken up with me if I had!”
“Wait,” Joe interjected. “Eddie doesn’t know you cheated on him with Barry?” Iris’ lips thinned. “I need to sit down.”
Joe pulled out a chair at the table. It screeched, but he didn’t take notice of it. His head fell in his hand as he fought to process all the information he’d just been given.
“Listen, I didn’t come here to talk about…that. I came to talk about the fact that my best friend has been lying to me for months. How long have you known, Dad? Since the beginning?”
“Just about,” Barry answered for him reluctantly.
Iris’ eyes shot daggers at her supposed best friend.
“He just wanted you to be safe, Iris. That’s why we didn’t tell you. But believe me…I wanted to. You were the first person I wanted to tell!”
“Wait, wait, wait.” She held up her hands. “Let me get this straight.” She looked at her dad. “You told him not to tell me?”
“Didn’t you hear what I said, Iris?” Barry tried to step between them. “He just wanted to keep you safe! He thought you knowing could’ve put you in danger.”
“Bullshit.” She looked around Barry towards her father again. “If I had known, instead of being in the way, I could’ve been prepared to be out of the way, helping you guys put the bad guys away instead of some…damsel in distress every time a damn meta came to attack the Flash.”
“I thought of that, Iris,” Joe finally said. “Of course I did! Every time you wrote about the Flash on your blog, and-”
“This isn’t just about that, Dad!” she finally admitted. “You knew how Barry felt about me for God knows how long, and you didn’t tell me that either!”
Barry and Joe were both shell-shocked she’d brought that up. She didn’t want to talk about the cheating, but she wanted to talk about…that?
“That wasn’t his secret to tell, Iris,” Barry said.
Joe nodded. “Exactly. I would’ve never-”
“And you,” Iris directed her next accusation at Barry. “You waited fifteen years to tell me how you felt. You waited until I was in a relationship!”
Barry couldn’t look at her. His head fell, and his shoulders slumped. All he could do was nod.
“I…I know.”
“You want to know why I didn’t leave Eddie for you? Because of that! You have no care in the world about what telling me something like that would do to me. I was fine before you told me. Eddie and I were fine. We were better than fine. We were perfect. And now…” She shook her head. “Now everything is wrong, and he doesn’t know why. And I can’t tell him!”
Joe and Barry stayed silent, not knowing what to say.
“God, I can’t even look at you two.”
She turned to leave, and Barry finally summoned the strength to say something and take a few steps toward her.
“Iris, wait.”
Her hand on the doorknob, she turned to look at him.
“Don’t worry, Barry. I won’t tell Eddie you’re the Flash.” She glanced over at Joe. “At least not tonight.”
She swung the door opened, stepped outside, and closed the door tightly behind her. Barry waited until he heard her car start and then speed down the block before turning to Joe.
“What do we do?”
Still shaking with rage, Iris took the long way home, hoping beyond hope that by the time she reached the outside door at Eddie’s apartment building, at least she would be visibly under control. For the most part, it worked. She focused on Eddie and how much she loved him, and their little life together. And how one day it could be something even more beautiful and promising…if she could just get her act together and forget about that night with Barry, which had only been renewed by her brief making out with the Flash tonight.
Barry was the Flash.
How had she not seen it? And that ridiculous little crush she’d developed on the scarlet speedster, the streak, she’d actually developed on Barry? They were one and the same. It was unnerving, and it would take her even longer to digest that than the fact that she was still so turned on around him. In fact, she’d been willing to bet that if it had been just her dad in the room tonight, she’d have been slightly bit calmer.
But only slightly.
Because truly, she had every right to be upset, and she couldn’t wait to see what both men did to make it up to her.
But the rest of tonight was about Eddie. As it should have always been from the beginning.
Pulling the keys from the ignition, she got out of the car, and walked up to the building. The outside door was still unlocked, as per usual, so she easily got inside. Needing to use the key on their actual apartment door was no problem this time, because she had the key with her. She opened the door easily after turning the key in the lock and stepped inside.
“Eddie?” she called out, when she didn’t see him in the living room or kitchen.
There was no response, but she could hear something being moved around in their bedroom. She tried not to focus on the fact that he’d deliberately ignored her and strutted with purpose into the adjoining room.
“Eddie, I…called for you.” She frowned, her face scrunching up together. There was an open suitcase on the bed, and Eddie was…filling it.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, sarcastically. “I couldn’t hear you.”
She doubted that, but let it slide.
“It’s alright.” She started to approach him to lean in for a kiss, but he sidestepped her. “Why are you packing? Are we going on vacation?”
She could use a good vacation honestly. A place away from Barry and her dad and the Flash. Just her and Eddie, a place to reconnect. Her boss probably wouldn’t admit the last minute calling in for several days off, but he would just have to deal. He depended on her too much for Flash business to just be let go on a last minute such as this.
Unfortunately, it was not what Eddie had in mind.
“Nope,” he said, pulling out some more clothes from his dresser drawer. “How was your fuck?”
She stilled, remembering now the reason she’d left their home a couple hours prior.
“I…uh…couldn’t go through with it,” she said, hoping that would put him at ease.
“Aww, that’s too bad,” he said, not sounding like he felt that way at all. It kind of stung for Iris actually. “I hope you’re not expecting getting any from me anymore tonight. I’m kind of tapped out, honestly.”
“No, I…I wasn’t.”
“Good. Because I’m on my way out anyway.”
She’d had enough of this. She needed answers and fast. Was he leaving her? What was going on?
“Eddie, stop.”
She grabbed his wrist, which surprisingly made him come to a stop.
“What?” he asked, impatiently. “I have to go in-”
“Go where? And why am I not coming with you? What’s going on?”
He pursed his lips, then inevitably decided he was indeed going to give her an explanation.
“I didn’t like the way you left tonight to go fuck someone else, Iris.”
“Eddie, I-”
He held up his hand to stop her speech.
“I know, I know. I gave you permission, and it’s great that you didn’t go through with it for whatever reason.”
“Because I love you,” she said, thinking how that sounded like a pretty damn good reason and way better than the actual one.
“Right,” he said, and it sounded like he didn’t buy it. Was it possible he doubted her feelings for him now? She’d been so careful… And she did still love him. Right?
“Well, whatever the reason, the fact that you intended to go out and do it in the first place really rubbed me the wrong way. I was really hoping you’d just stay, because really, did I sound like I wanted you to go when I gave you permission to?”
She thought about it for a second, recalled the memory and then hung her head glumly.
“No.”
And she’d known it at the time. She’d just been so desperate to get Barry out of her system that she figured sex with anyone else she was attracted to would work just as well. Little did she know, Barry was…
Well, forget that.
“But you went anyway.”
She sighed. “Eddie-”
He moved away from her to continue packing.
“There’s a convention in Star City that I’ve been wanting to attend for quite some time. It’s a week long, and it starts tomorrow morning at 8am sharp. I have to leave like…10 minutes ago if I want to get there on time.”
Iris frowned.
“How come you never told me about it?”
He shrugged. “Something has been feeling off between us recently, so I wanted to focus on us. I wasn’t gonna go. I got approval from Singh earlier this week, just in case I changed my mind, but until you left tonight, I hadn’t planned to actually leave.” He paused and took a breath. “I just…I think we need some time apart.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
He stilled, then came to her, grasping her hands in his own.
“No. No. I am not breaking up with you.”
She couldn’t figure out if she was relieved or not by that re-assurance.
“But, we’ve been spending a lot of time together, Iris. A lot. And I’ve loved it, but I don’t think it’s been good for…you.”
“Eddie, that’s not-”
“Plus, I do still think you need to work things out with Barry.”
She sighed. “That’s not gonna happen. We got into another fight tonight. That’s why I was gone so long. Actually, with my dad too.”
Eddie frowned, his entire demeanor shifting.
“Do you want to-”
She waved him off.
“No, I don’t want to talk about it.” She took a breath. “I’m sorry, but it won’t help.” She licked her lips. “I’m just telling you because what I need right now is to be away from them, not trying to work things out. I need space from them, not you.”
She tried to encircle his neck, but after a moment he grabbed her hands and brought them back down by her sides. She frowned.
“That may be the case, Iris, but a week is a long time. Maybe in a few days you’ll feel differently.”
“Eddie.”
He zipped up his suitcase, now fully packed. He grabbed a hold of the handle and heaved it off the bed.
“If you still want to be in this relationship when I get back-”
“Of course I will. How can you even-”
“If you still want to be in it,” he said again. “And we’re still having problems after I’ve been back a few days, maybe we can…go to couple’s counseling, or something.”
She was reluctant to respond to that.
“You think we need it?”
He tried not to sigh.
“I hope we don’t. But if you fix things with your dad and Barry and we’re still having problems, I think it’s our only option left. Other than breaking up, of course.”
“I would never want to break up with you, Eddie. Never.”
“And I don’t want to break up with you either, Iris. But something’s gone wrong. I can feel it.”
She sighed, taking the cheek kiss he initiated as he walked past her.
“I’ll be back in a week.”
“I love you!” she called out to him, but he was already halfway out the door and didn’t respond.
She blew a lock out of her face and fell onto their made-up bed.
“Damn it.”
Back at the West house, Barry had replaced Joe’s mug of milk with one of vodka and gotten himself a glass to boot. Then he sat down at the table with a weary-looking Joe and took a long gulp of the alcoholic beverage.
“I really wish I could get drunk.”
Joe took a swig of his own.
“I’m not going to with this amount, but uh…you still can’t, huh?”
Barry shook his head.
“Cisco and Caitlin have been working on a concoction since last fall, but so far their greatest masterpiece only lasts a few seconds, tops.”
Joe gripped his shoulder.
“You’ll get there, son.”
Barry forced a smile.
“I know.”
Joe set the mug down, then let his head fall into his hands again.
“Uggggh.”
Barry looked at him pathetically.
“I’m sorry, Joe. I should’ve been more…more careful…or something. I don’t know.”
Joe shook his head, still covered by his hands.
“No, it’s not your fault.” He lifted his face, still weary-looking for the whole situation. “She would’ve found out eventually. And she’s probably right, you know?”
“Yeah?”
Joe nodded. “Maybe she would’ve been safer knowing what was going on instead of being out of the loop.”
“I did try to tell you something along those lines…”
“I know, I know.” Joe waved him off. “Guess you were right then too.”
“What about Eddie?”
“I don’t think we need to worry about him. At least not for another week.”
Barry’s brows furrowed.
“You don’t think Iris will tell him first thing in the morning?”
Joe took another gulp.
“Not if he’s gone before she can.”
“I don’t…understand. He’s leaving her?”
Barry’s heart started to race.
Joe shook his head.
“Not her. Central City.”
The dots started to connect.
“For the next week, you mean?”
Joe nodded.
“At least, I’m guessing. There’s a police convention this coming week that I overheard him asking Singh off for. He wasn’t certain he was going, but it was a possibility.”
“So, he might not be going.”
“I’d say it’s fairly certain he is. It’s one he’s been looking forward to for a while.”
“Iris didn’t seem to know anything about it.”
Joe reached for the bottle of vodka.
“That’s none of our business.”
Barry slumped in his chair.
“Right.” He paused. “There is…something else you should know.”
“Oh, no.” He set the bottle down. “What now?”
Barry reached around the hack of his head to scratch awkwardly at his neck.
“Someone else knows I’m the Flash too…as of tonight.”
“Who?”
He winced. “Linda.”
“Another reporter,” Joe deadpanned. “That’s great…just…just great.”
“She does sports, Joe. I really don’t think we have anything to worry about. I made her promise not to tell anyway, and she agreed. Though she was mostly in shock about it.”
“Understandable.”
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow, make sure we’re still on the same page.”
“I thought you two weren’t even dating anymore!”
“We’re not. But uh…we ran into each other at the bar last night, and one thing led to another and-”
“Stop. Stop right there.” He held up a hand. “I already know way more about your love life tonight than I ever needed to.”
Barry swallowed and reaching for his glass again, finishing the contents.
“Right,” he said, wiping his mouth. “No more details. Got it.”
Joe sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“It does sound like you’ve got that situation under control though.”
“I do.”
“Should we try going to bed then? It looks like we’re both on empty, and there’s really nothing we can do about Iris anymore tonight?”
“Okay.” He tilted his head. “And tomorrow?”
“If Eddie really is leaving tonight, I say we give her a couple days to digest everything.”
Barry nodded. “Okay, and then what? We talk to her?”
“You talk to her.”
He frowned.
“Why just me?”
“She likes you better.”
He wanted to laugh.
“Joe, I don’t thi-”
“Trust me. She may not be a fan of you now, but I’m the one that forced you not to say anything. It may be slight, but she does like you better.”
Barry collected the glasses and deposited them in the sink. Then he put the remaining vodka away.
“Okay,” he said. “In a few days, I’ll talk to her.”
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shadowhuntertrash · 3 years
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Hello, I read your other fanfics and absolutely adored them! I was wondering if you could write a Thomastair angst based on the song Consequences by Camila Cabello, I'd prefer if it was in Alastair's pov but it's fine if it's in Thomas'. PS, I loved High Notes, can't wait for the next chapter <33
Sorry this took so long and I kinda mixed the POV hope you don't mind <33
And thank you SO MUCH!!!
Dirty tissues, trust issues
Glasses on the sink, they didn't fix you
Lonely pillows in a strangers bed
Little voices in my head
   Thomas stared at the glass in front of him, he had stolen whiskey and rum from Matthew in hopes of drowning out the memories. He didn’t want to remember, he wanted everything to go away. He wanted to forget what the pain felt like, what Alastair felt like.
   He couldn’t stand being in his bed anymore, not after all the nights spent there with Alastair, not with all the memories. He couldn’t escape from the memories, they were everywhere, he felt so utterly trapped.
  Thomas threw the rest of the drink back and reveled in the burning sensation it sent down his throat. He wanted to drown out all the voices, all the promised whispers in the dead of night. He wanted to drown out the music Alastair played for him, he wanted to drown.
   Tears were streaming down his face but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. With a shuddering breath, Thomas threw the glass at the wall with all his strength. His back slid down the opposite wall as he let out the sobs he had been holding in, the glass shards everywhere.
   He knew that feeling, shattering, his heart was all too familiar with it.
Secret keeping, stop the bleeding
Lost a little weight because I wasn't eating
All the songs that I can't listen to, to tell the truth
   Alastair had always hated secrets, he wondered if that’s why he hated himself. His whole life, his whole existence felt like one big secret.
   He couldn’t tell anyone about his father, he couldn’t tell anyone about Charles, he could’ve told people about Thomas but after so many lies and secrets what was one more? He should have seen it, it shouldn’t have surprised him. He shouldn’t have a bleeding heart right now, he should be with Thomas, laughing in bed. He should be eating lunch right now at a surprise picnic with Thomas instead of ignoring the meals outside his door.
   Alastair couldn’t find it in him to get out of bed, he couldn’t find it in him to abandon the place he and Thomas had spent so much time. It felt as if he were giving up on Thomas, on the memories, the whispers, if he were to get out of bed and move on.
   He used to play music when he was upset, his piano was right outside his room but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t play the piano, not after all the songs he made for Thomas that Thomas would never get to hear.
   He won’t play anymore, no one could make him. He only ever wanted to play for Thomas but if he can’t play for him he won’t play for anyone.
Loving you was young, and wild, and free
Loving you was cool, and hot, and sweet
   Thomas closed his eyes tightly, his fisted hands pressing hard into his eyes until he saw stars instead of eyelids. He didn’t want these memories, not anymore, but he couldn’t stop them from flooding in.
   He saw flashes of Paris, Alastair walking excitedly in front of him, the wind blowing his hair around. He saw Alastair’s smile as they snuck into the movie theatre, his free smile as he told Thomas animatedly about how amazing mundanes were to have come up with such a contraption.
   Thomas felt tears cascading down his cheeks as he pictured the lake they had swam in, on a hot day. The cold water felt good on their skin but it felt better when Alastair’s skin was on his. He felt as if he was finally cooling down for once that summer while also getting hotter than he’d ever been as Alastair kissed him passionately, his legs wrapped around Thomas’s middle as he kept them afloat.
   The shy, hesitant kisses they shared in the cover of night. The sweet looks they shared that no one but them understood. Thomas punched the wall trying to draw his physical pain above his emotional pain. He didn’t want to think of their secrets, their inside jokes. 
   He didn’t want to think about Alastair’s carefree smile that only Thomas got to see. He didn’t want to think about the nights where they broke down. He didn’t want to think about the fights they shared when they were under too much pressure. He didn’t want to think about the tears that ran down Alastair’s face the last time he saw him. Thomas didn’t want to think about the way Alastair’s face crumbled when Thomas slammed the door behind him.
   Thomas didn’t want to think.
Loving you was sunshine, safe and sound
A steady place to let down my defenses
But loving you had consequences
   Alastair wanted it back. He wanted Thomas back, the memories, the smiles. He wanted his bright spot back, he was drowning in darkness and Thomas was the only one who was ever able to get him out of it. 
   He wanted to be okay again, he wanted his sanctuary. He wanted that warm safe feeling he always got with Thomas. He wanted Thomas to be there for him like he was when Alastair came out to his father, like he was when Charles wouldn’t leave him alone.
   Alastair was tired of having to hide his emotions, he was tired of hiding himself. He wanted to go back to being able to be himself without fear of judgment when he was with Thomas. He wanted Paris back, being allowed to love mundane things because Thomas understood and liked them too. He missed being able to be himself.
   But loving Thomas came with its faults. The shouting when they should’ve been asleep. Thomas stumbling in late drunk because he was with Matthew. Alastair’s insecurities taking over and making him defensive and mean.
   They had their faults and things that were wrong but Alastair couldn’t help but believe that they were worth the fights, they deserved to be happy and they were happy with each other.
   He just wished Thomas felt that too.
Hesitation, awkward conversation
Running on low expectation
   Thomas hated parties, he hated weddings and meetings. He hated seeing everyone and pretending he was fine when he was falling apart. He hated seeing Alastair who looked just as broken as Thomas did.
   He hated how little he expected from people now, how he felt bad every time he said something jokingly. He hated that he watched what he said around everyone in fear of them being upset by it after having spent so long with Alastair who took everything to heart. 
   Thomas used to think it was endearing, he thought he would be able to show Alastair that Thomas only ever wanted him. He had wanted so many things for Alastair but time wore them down and it became more problematic than endearing.
   He got tired of constantly having to reassure Alastair, he was tired of Alastair being mean when he got defensive.
   He was tired.
Every siren that I was ignoring
I'm payin' for it
   
   Alastair beat himself up for missing the signs. He should’ve seen the red flags. He should have seen the silence for the screams they were. He should have noticed when Thomas spent less time with him. 
   He should have noticed when Thomas started spiraling. He should have noticed Thomas’s tear-stained cheeks and swollen eyes instead of the drink in his hand. He should have noticed when Thomas got in his own head.
   Thomas deserved someone who would notice those things and Alastair couldn’t help agreeing that he wasn’t good enough for that. He couldn’t help agreeing that Thomas deserved so much more than him.
Loving you was dumb, dark and cheap
Loving you will still take shots at me
   Thomas cursed himself for falling for Alastair’s sweet words and his secretive personality. He cursed himself for falling into the mysterious boy no one truly knew anything about. Thomas cursed himself for being so dumb and falling for all of Alastair’s tricks, all the lies about love.
   He didn’t want to love Alastair anymore, not after what he said, but the worst part is that he still loved him. He loved Alastair and it would haunt him forever, he wasted so long on a boy who never even loved him. 
   How could Alastair love him if he believed all the rumors. How could Alastair love Thomas and still betray the trust they build. How could Alastair love Thomas and still ruin his parent’s and best friend’s lives?
   He couldn’t. 
Found loving you was sunshine, but then it poured
And I lost so much more than my senses
'Cause loving you had consequences
   Alastair walked around as if nothing ever happened, he smiled at acquaintances, played with his little brother, helped Cordelia.
   He found new sunshine since Thomas had ripped his away. It had been raining so long that he didn’t remember what it was like not to be drowning. He had lost so much when he lost Thomas, he lost parts of himself he didn’t even know about.
   He missed Thomas and didn’t think he’d ever get over it but he learned how to fake it. He learned how to be ‘happy’ around Thomas. He learned how to keep himself together until he was by himself at night. 
   Thomas was happy now and that was all that had ever really mattered. He would have fought for Thomas if he deserved him but Alastair didn’t because he wasn’t.
   He sat and wished more than anything that Thomas would change his mind, that Thomas would realize he still loved Alastair. He waited for it and when it didn’t happen, Alastair realized that he would never stop waiting.
   Alastair would spend forever waiting for Thomas because Thomas was worth that.
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sachinighte · 3 years
Text
There’s this post that I keep seeing on my dash. I’m sure op has every belief that they are just saying what is true, and I’m sure that the people who are sharing it think it might be true as well. And you know what, if being on a space that is not geared towards children hurts them, then I fully hope that they find or make a space for themselves where they can feel comfortable. I gotta say though, I don’t think they will be comfortable there either.
There’s been this trend lately that I’ve noticed, where people in fandom try and say, “there are children here, you need to not write this stuff that is problematic because they are here and you will traumatize them.” And, on the surface, it’s a noble sentiment. One I know is a short circuit to getting people to agree. If it’s for “the children” then why wouldn’t we want to protect them?
Except, I’ve heard this argument before. When I was living through fanfiction.net’s purges and just hoping everyday that my work wasn’t going to get targeted next despite the fact that I didn’t write lemons or even limes but because I was unpopular and people were going around and reporting people who hadn’t done anything wrong because they didn’t like that author. When my high school English teacher told the class about banned books day and why it was important and why those books had been banned. When the professor I was taking a class in Weimar Germany from talked about the book burnings that he lived through. When I did my own research into the history of popular literature. When I started learning about LGBTQ+ history. When I learned about the Scopes Monkey trial.
It’s horrifying to me that this is coming up again, but I suppose that I was naive to think that it wouldn’t. And, I’m going to be honest, none of the things this post mentions are things I’d really seek out or want to read at all. It would be easy for me to ignore it, except where do we stop? When do we stop? At what point do children who need to be sheltered and protected from everything get tossed out of the nest? Who decides what is too problematic to have exist in fiction or talked about anymore? In what context is it too problematic, or is context not a thing anymore? Nuance? What if I tag and warn on my work appropriately, what then?
I am an adult. I was not an adult when I got into fandom by any stretch of the imagination but I am an adult now. I surround myself primarily with other adults as a matter of preference. I do not have children. I do not want children. The very few children I come into contact with are dealt with as quickly and kindly as I can manage so I do not have to be responsible for them a second longer than necessary. I use much stricter guidelines for rating my fics than movies, tv shows, or books do. Why should I be punished for what seems to me as a lack of parental guidance? Why should anyone? If I tag, warn, and rate my fics correctly, then no child should be coming into contact with something that would traumatize them, unless they ignore every signpost and go in there themselves, which, sure I can’t deny happens because I did it myself. But that’s kind of like going into a peanut butter factory when you are allergic to peanuts. At some point, the burden of protecting yourself lies on you.
Someday—because I still somehow believe that society marches ever towards progress despite everything that was 2020–the things that I have written today may be considered just as problematic as Huckleberry Finn, despite my best efforts. And I hope when that day comes, if I am still around, I will have learned and grown from those experiences. Society is anything but stagnate, and what was commonplace and accepted at one point will not be accepted in the future, and those who refuse to see that right now is not the end of growing and changing will be left behind. And sometimes, those kids don’t want to be protected, will actively work against it. I know I did. I know all my friends did. Censoring stuff like removing books from the library, banning certain websites, or punishing creators for making things didn’t make me not want to see that stuff, it made me want to look at it more. It was only when someone else took the time to educate me on it—treated me like I had a brain in my head, which was the only thing I ever wanted from adults—that I learned that maybe some of this stuff isn’t for me. Kind of like how abstinence only sex education doesn’t work, huh?
Censorship is never the answer.
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proherostories · 4 years
Text
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img from this post
I hope it was worth the wait!
Ao3
Ages - Always 18+ Pair - Alpha!Izuku x Reader
WC - 6159
Warnings - Biting, Bonding (which leads to mild blood), First Times, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, knotting Notes - Izuku goes through great lengths to make sure consent is unmistakable. He’s also very...thorough. To anyone who reads this and also likes Kirishima, there’s set up about Fated Pairs that applies to a KirishimaxReader in the future.
-----
It was totally, utterly, completely rare for two alphas to get together. Alpha females weren’t as common, but your parents were not only lucky enough to have the right personality mesh for it, but be a fated pair. Which...baffled so many people, but it made their lives so much easier.
What sucked? Somehow somewhere along the line Fate decided you were not going to be an Alpha like your mom and dad. Which meant as soon as your body settled as an Omega, the complete and utter opposite, not even a Beta, your life was designated to not be easy.
Suppressants up the wazzoo to keep it hidden and save yourself the embarrassment, feeling like a disgrace. People still found out somehow and gave you grief. Bullying. Your mom not being someone you could go to for advice because she had no clue. Each time your ‘heat’ was supposed to hit you the medication just went up for a time to hold it back. Being told to just deal with it, no one to turn to, no one to listen.
Then you reached eighteen. The suppressants were failing. You begged and prayed to your body and any deity to listen, needing the medication to last just a little longer. Until you graduated, until you could move out and have the right of body and mind to do what was best for you and not those around you. To finally take control of yourself, to maybe feel healthy. Man, wouldn’t that be a dream?
Somehow, someway, you survived. You made it. You were in your own apartment, you had landed a job through a friend from school with a super understanding owner. Said friend was able to go shopping with you after your first paycheck, get you nesting items, different meds to help with the pain you could only hope would work. Also helped you get...toys. The idea didn’t thrill you, but your friend was hyper concerned. Honestly, what did you do to deserve her? Part of you wished you could just be gay for her, but sadly she wasn’t interested and as much as you tried, you just wanted her cuddles, not her bond.
Then...nothing happened.
It was a relief and also a red flag. Maybe you were a late bloomer because of the suppressants? Oh dear. Your doctor did say it might take a few months to a year for your body to regulate itself. It didn’t help your body’s growth had also been stunted, so basically if it could go wrong it was.
That...also applied to a villain crashing into the shop one day. Yay. Fantastic.
Oh...oh no, but then there was that...really cute Pro Hero, Deku...there was no way. Impossible. He wouldn’t look twice at you…
Then he did.
He looked at you again and again, actually. It started with him apologizing profusely about the shop; he always did his best to keep damage to a minimum but that one had been quite a handful. He even offered to??? Help pay for repairs via his agency??? Which was...Who was this angel of a man?
Then he came back...over and over. He really liked the shop, he said. The owner called him out on buying things to help fund the place, but as soon as he blushed so bad his freckles stood out your friend giggled to you later that that was but wasn’t the reason.
It was? You?
At one point he came in with some friends, showed them around the place, and then one of them...Red Riot? Slapped Deku so hard on the back he stumbled forward in your direction. His friends laughed when he turned beet red.
He asked you to call him Izuku...Izuku Midoriya was his name, and he...he...asked you out for coffee. It was so dumb and so cheesy but…
You said yes.
That’s how you ended up here...several months later after officially dating. You two were laughing, having a great time walking into the theatre chatting about the movie you were going to see. You’d been feeling...warm all day. Part of you thought maybe you were coming down with something? You didn’t pay it any mind, but damn did Izuku look fine as hell. You had always appreciated his body, of course. Thick, muscular, his hugs were amazing the way they wrapped around you. He made you feel so safe. His scent was delicious, too! Ugh, he literally smelled like a cinnamon roll it was so unfair but today it seemed...so much more intense. You wondered why that was? Why did your body feel so tingly, too, every time you looked at him, and your breath caught with how the sunlight was washing over him.
Even Izuku had noticed you were red in the face, but you waved him off. You were fine. You’d go to the clinic in the morning, but you would at least last your date night. That satisfied him enough. Only...you barely managed to survive a portion of the movie. You were squirming in your seat the whole time…Had Izuku always looked so...sexy?
“Hey...sweetpea, are you sure you’re alright?” Izuku whispered low and frowned at you. He reached out and put his hand on your thigh...and when you let out the beginnings of a moan his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He slapped his giant, scarred hand over your mouth, “Oh no...damnit, I’m so stupid!” he muttered, this time mostly to himself, “I’m so used to your scent now I didn’t even...shit…” He inwardly promised himself to either bring you here again in the future or buy the DVD when it came out, but he stood abruptly and hauled you out of your seat. He didn’t even pay attention to the other people there, gathering both of your things and ushering you out of the row as fast as possible.
“Zuku, what are...what’s wrong?” Your brain was too hazy. “What’s wrong with my scent?” you didn’t even understand why you moaned.
“No time. C’mon, sweetpea, I’m driving.” He barely contained his vibrating body, his hand possessively at the small of your back. His touch was always so friendly, even if you two had been dating for a decent amount of time. This felt different, and it made your body feel hotter. Ignoring the people giving him stares was a lot harder now they were in the lobby, but at least the majority of people were inside enjoying their movies.
Once outside is where your mind finally cleared with the fresh air, “Zuku, what...what’s happening?” you asked, voice small and a bit scared. You were alarmed with yourself now, let alone the situation. “That happened so fast, I was fine half an hour ago!”
“Shhh, baby, it’s okay,” he looped his arm completely around your waist now. It felt so out of character, being on the edge of too tight, too close yet not enough. He was doing his best to let out calming pheromones, but your frightened scent made him dizzy too and his stomach twist. You didn’t belong to anyone, and oh no, his jaw was starting to ache… He took a deeeeep breath in as the wind blew by and ruffled his emerald locks, “I got you, if you let me. Let’s keep walking, it’s all downhill from here. I’ve done a lot of research, okay? I won’t let you down, I promise. I swear. I’ll be right here for you at least until we get you home. Just...leave the window down when we get to my car?”
“G-Got it…” his reassurances were a mixture of comforting and concerning and it was enough of confusion for you to follow him without thinking twice about it.
So now here you two were, on the road, on the way back to your place. Your head was pressed to the window of his car with it halfway down. It was cooling and helped what felt like a fever. “Izuku,” you finally speak up, scared and the silence was too much. His scent was also being sucked towards you...it was also distressed, but there was something...deeper there. What was it? “Please talk to me…”
“I’m sorry! I don’t mean to make you worry!” He immediately apologized, “Everyone used to make fun of me for rambling my ideas and stuff out loud so I was just thinking internally about what to do, how to do it...Ah, aah...um...your...your heat is hitting you, baby...that’s what’s happening. I was so focused on thinking ahead I forgot the now...Is it okay if I...ask you some things? Reiterate stuff we’ve talked about before?”
That explained everything. It was simultaneously a good thing and a problematic thing that your heat was hitting you. “Now’s a good a time as any, while the air from outside helps me think…”
“Yeah...yeah that’s what I thought. You love me...right?” he asked first, of all things.
“I…” your face turns as red as Kirishima’s hair, but for a completely different reason than hormones, “Yes I do. I love you very much, Izuku...why?”
“You...believe in Fated pairs because of your parents, right?”
Oh now that was a very pointed question now wasn’t it? You were pretty smart yourself, and you caught on, “Do you...think that we’re…?”
It was his turn to blush furiously, “Y-Yes...it’s my theory that because of being on suppressants so long, you were never able to really tell if you were a Fated because everyone made such a big deal about you being an Omega. Then you’ve been off of them for a while now, at least a year...and you’ve just been thinking you haven’t had your heat because your body needed to figure itself out, right? Well...I...I’ve never really been interested in anybody. I didn’t really know why. I mean...I’ve been able to appreciate that my friends have awesome bodies and stuff, but it never really did anything to me. No one’s scent has ever done anything to me...until you. I met you and everything changed. I disappeared for two weeks in the middle of us dating...you know how I said I was on a mission long-distance? I...I lied. I was going through my first real…ah...rut. I felt-feel! So bad about lying to you, sweetpea, but I didn’t know how to explain it! Now here you are, hanging on by a thread and...what did it start with?”
He talked so much and so fast. Usually, you could keep up with him, pick apart his muttering, but it took you a moment to even register his question. Even longer to think back to the beginning of your day. Now it was hard to tell if the blush you had was from embarrassment or from your heat. “I...was...admiring you. Your...your body. You’ve smelled so amazing all day, too...cinnamon sugar and vanilla...like a cinnamon roll and I just…” you caught yourself before you said ‘want to bite you’. That would sure as hell have implications in several ways. You jumped at the sound of his steering wheel creaking.
“You smell...really good to me, too, baby…” his voice was strained, his expression pained, but his eyes bore a hole through his windshield with how hard he was staring at the road. God, somehow his nostrils flaring was hot, too.
“I want to talk to you about so much...but...while you can still think, baby, do you...do you...want me to...stay with you? Help you through it? I-I-I mean! I’mavirginsomaybeIwon’tbeverygoodbutI’lldomybestand-”
“Izuku!”
Izuku whined but shut up. You worried for the steering wheel, but he was pulling into a gas station. “I’m sorry…”
“I’m...a virgin too, so I mean at least we’ll be in the same boat, but I figured as much after you mentioned you had your own first real rut.” You said as calmly as possible as he parked. You bit your lip, shifting nervously, “I’ve been...wondering why you haven’t wanted to...have sex with me…” you told him honestly, quiet and upset, “I thought you didn’t...want me...that way…”
“No, no, baby, please!” Izuku waved his hands frantically and he reached out, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other touched your cheek, making you look at him, “I do...God do I want you...I’m going to go grab some protection, okay? We’ve only been dating for a couple months and I don’t want to force anything on you-”
“What if I want it?” 
He sputtered, completely taken aback, “W-What?”
“D-Does time really...m-matter if we’re...if we’re Fated? Like you think we are?” you asked him, blushing.
“No...but...I don’t know if you’re ready for babies, if I’m ready for babies...it may seem like we want it, your scent driving me up the wall and mine doing the same to you, but I want to talk about it all when everything settles down. Is that okay, sweetpea?” he carded his fingers through your hair, petting it, his eyes so gentle and loving that it made you fall head over heels for him all over again, “Bonding with you is different than the prospect of kids. Just because I go get protection doesn’t mean I can’t mark you…” the purr as he stroked over your neck made you shiver and squirm, “Can we compromise on that, baby?”
“Yes,” you whine this time, leaning in to kiss him but he jerked back, making you whine again at the loss, “Please…”
“Five minutes, tops,” he promised, “I want you, don’t you worry about that.” He pressed the button on the driver’s side to bring the window up, “I’ll be right back, my pretty little omega,” he soothed her, pumping a fresh wave of his sugary-sweet scent into the car to keep you satisfied, and then popped out of the car, using the button on his keys to lock it.
You watched him zoom towards the door of the store using his Quirk and it amused you. Even when he was out of sight, you were bouncing happily at the fact he’d called you his omega...this was going to be amazing! Even if neither of you knew what you’d be doing, you trusted him. He was such a sweet person, five steps ahead of everything. Fated? That explained so much. How you two were able to click on a whole other level. Growing up seeing your parents so in love even while they were both Alphas made you want your own Fated. It seemed like such a childish dream, but now it was happening!
Other things started to click in your mind, too. Namely how you two had really crappy school lives until high school. Bullying until a friend was able to boost you up...or in his case, friends, but they had become your friends, too. Ochako was the sweetest and sometimes Tsuyu’s blunt attitude helped you think more clearly. You never, oddly enough, felt jealous of them now that you looked back. That was good, you didn’t want something like that to come between you guys.
Like he said, before you knew it his scent was invading your senses again as he got back into the car, but hearing his pleased rumble made you coo in response. “Looks like your mood has improved. I’m so glad.” He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles, causing you to purr and nod your head. 
“I couldn’t be happier, Zuku,” you agree, and this time as the drive continued you couldn’t help but watch him with an openly dreamy expression. You were so smitten it would probably embarrass you later. For now? You could care less. 
Finally, finally, you were home. 
You weren't nearly as shaky as you thought you might be. Izuku's soft and sweet smile as you opened your door had you feeling like you were on cloud nine. Absolutely floating! It was hard not to notice the darker smolder to his viridian eyes. That's what it was, in his scent that you hadn't been able to pinpoint before. 
Lust. 
It made shivers run up your spine and you took his big hand in yours, dragging him into your apartment with a giggle. It was here as you two took off your shoes, where your scent was the strongest, that Izuku finally released a long, loud groan. Immediately your own body heat spiked and you were thankful he was quick on the ball, reaching behind to lock the door with a sharp click. "This is really happening…" you breathe, a little in disbelief.
"I'm sorry it had to be like this," Izuku finally dipped his head to brush his nose along your cheek, "I wanted to be more romantic...god you smell amazing, baby…" his body pressed closer, his hands featherlight on your hips but you could feel how he trembled. 
"I would...ah...say I'm not going to break, but…" your breath caught as he lapped at your scent gland, making your legs buckle and you looped your arms around his neck for support, "I know how strong you are...that's why...oh, mm...that's one of the reasons why I admire you…" damn he was assaulting your neck so good.
"Perfect Alpha material? I get that a lot...I always got so embarrassed, but with you…" he growled low, and you suddenly realized you never heard him growl before. If you weren't soaked, you were now and he definitely noticed with the way he inhaled and his nostrils flared, "Fuck, baby...does that do it for you?" He purred, "With you, I'm so glad I can be a good, reliable Alpha for my sweet, perfect Omega…" 
When he growled this time it was very deliberate and when your legs gave out completely he scooped you up with ease. With your legs around his hips, and for a split second you worried your first time would be against the wall. He coaxed you to kiss him; searing, needy, desperate, burning...your mind slipped so hard and fast it didn't matter where you did it, as long as you did soon. "Zuku…" you whine and whimper.
He was quick to shush you, swift powerful steps towards your bedroom echoed off the walls as his heels thumped on the hardwood floor. Thankfully, even as you were losing your mind Izuku realized that while yes, still lust-addled, he was able to keep his head on his shoulders and not go feral. It didn't keep him from grunting and growling as you bit his lip or rocked against his growing bulge, but he could still think which was a lot more important right now.
It had to be because his rut had been over a month ago, which meant you were out of sync. That was lucky in this case. It also made him groan thinking about the future. You two had so much to talk about and it made him giddy, a bounce in his step that resulted in the two of you to literally tumble in bed. Your giggling laughter was music to his ears, making his heart flutter and a wide grin split his face. "I'm going to take such good care of you, sweetpea," he cooed against your lips in a much sweeter kiss, helping push you up against the pillows. He took the tiny bag with the box of condoms and a few snack bars plus a bottle of water from around his wrist and put it on the nightstand. 
His attention to detail made your chest ache with love and adoration. "I believe you, Izuku. You're already being such a wonderful Alpha to me, I love you so much. C'mere...help me take off my clothes? I'm so warm, I feel like I'm overheating…"
"Yes, right, of course!" Izuku also got a little ahead of the game, whipping off his own shirt and tossing it into the abyss that was outside the perimeter of your bed. Fuck, he was littered with scars but he looked so delightful it made you want to drool. 
Reaching behind your back, impatient and your heat not making you nearly as shy as you could have been, you easily unclasped your bra as his scarred hands landed on your thighs. "You know...I'm starting to feel like I'm drunk and on liquid courage…" you muse.
Izuku laughed softly, "It seems like it, doesn't it? It's only going to get worse, but I'm glad you're still here with me, baby…" he scooped his fingers under your top and you sucked a breath in. How did his hands feel even warmer than your body felt but it was still so good? He locked eyes with you, watching every minuscule detail of how you reacted as he danced his fingers up. When his thumbs hooked on your bra, he yanked it all up and off in one swoop. 
For a moment, it was like time froze. He was looking at you as if you were the most beautiful being on the planet, and you took the opportunity to also openly ogle him. It helped distract from any embarrassment you might've felt while you were enjoying how his abs dipped and how the curve if his Adonis belt disappeared into his pants. "Wait...is that a little happy trail?" You giggle and reach out unthinking.
Izuku sucked in a sharp breath. It was apparently your turn to smooth your fingers over his tummy and play with the smattering of green hair that also disappeared into his pants. "We'll get to that," he chuckled, voice strained but clearly amused in spite of it, "You're such an adorable little Omega, aren't you? So innocent and curious." He crowded your space, forcing you to lay down flat on your back, your hair splaying on the pillow. The way you bit your lip and looked up at him with big doe eyes made him grasp your chin and a slow smile lifted his lips, "Yes, just like that. So beautiful and yet so cute. Tonight is all about you, baby. Let me have a good time learning your body, yeah?" He leaned close enough to brush your noses together, "Make you a wonderful whimpering mess, begging for more, begging for me…"
"Yes, yes, please take good care of me, Izuku," your needy whine made him shiver, "Show me more, need more...touch me, touch me all over…" 
"Like this?" Izuku repeated his earlier action, starting at your hips and working his way up. He grabbed your breasts firmly but kept his strength in check. He was experimenting, after all. That included dragging calloused thumbs over already perky little nipples. Since he was now seated between your thighs, he fully expected you to start rutting your crotch against his. The warmth of your core radiated through his jeans, and he watched with fascinated dark eyes as your own rolled back at the friction, "That's it, baby, go ahead and use me...the more you orgasm tonight, the easier it's gunna be…"
"Mm...you learn that through your research, Zuku?" It was meant to tease, but you panted as he rolled your mounds in languid circles, kneading the flesh like a cat, massaging and then pinching your buds which made you gasp.
"Partially, but the other part is speculation. Your slick is going to be plenty of lubrication, but not only is it good to have more...you'll also, uh, be more relaxed...I'm not…" he blushed enough it practically glowed in the dimness of the room, "I'm not exactly small...and my knot could hurt you. So I gotta work you up, baby. Last thing I want to do is hurt you."
You nodded, trusting his intuition. Whatever he had planned you would roll with as much as possible. Still, your mind was growing hazier as both of your scents filled the room and you were surrounded in his cinnamon sweetness. “Please…” you breathed, not exactly sure what you were pleading for. Him to grab and massage your breasts more? To feel him more fully and not through the confines of his jeans? At this point you simply even wanted him to touch you…
“I got you,” he soothed and leaned down. At first, he kept his tongue flat, rubbing it over one of your nipples before closing his lips around it to give the bud a good suck. With the way your back arched he knew he was on the right track, swirling and teasing it next before testing the waters by lightly grazing his teeth. That certainly caused your breath to catch in a gasp, and he tugged on the nipple with it pinched between his pearly whites. With the other nipple, he rolled and twisted it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and tugging on it at the same time. 
“Izuku!” you cried out, needy and slowly becoming delirious. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your head tossed back and flipping from side to side in pleasure as you ground your hips down hard. The teasing of your nipples, the squeeze of his palms on your mounds, and the way his dick through his jeans throbbed had you going out of your mind within minutes. “If you keep doing that, I’m…”
“Didn’t I already say?” he rumbled and your whole body shook, “That’s what I want...go ahead, Omega, whatever you need…” as he said ‘Omega’ with a growl he rolled and bucked his own hips into yours, ripping another cry from your throat. Fuck, he really liked that sound, so he continued what he was doing with your breasts, switching it up and doing the opposite. He really drove you up the wall this time, and now he did it once he started humping into you, his jeans rough even through the fabric of your own bottoms and it all drove against your clit. With his ears peeled, he kept track of how your breath hitched, what made you gasp, how you whined, filing it all away for later use. If he wasn’t careful, teasing you might become his new favorite pastime...but somehow he doubted you would mind.
“Zuku...Izuku...oh god, Alpha, Alpha, I’m...hnn…” you couldn’t even think now, blabbering with need, and with a few more good ruts of his hips into your core you wailed, back arching and body locking up.
“That’s it…” he breathed heavily and took his hands off your oversensitive body. He started removing your bottoms and all the while he skimmed a kiss over your lips, and then down your neck. Flicking his tongue over each nipple he smooched your sternum, across your belly and then pulled back to strip you completely naked. Now you did blush, biting your lip as you looked at him, completely out of breath. He didn’t want to leave you feeling vulnerable by yourself, so he started doing away with his jeans. As soon as you caught sight of his thick cock your breath hitched, causing him to blush bright again.
Wanting to touch him, you sat up a little and tried to reach for him but he caught your hand. With a shake of his head and pushed you back down, “Next time,” he promised, kissing your knuckles. He kept his hips away from you now, but that didn’t matter because the idea of ‘next time’ had you whining and moaning. “I’m not done with you, pretty Omega.” That had your eyes going wide. What...what else was he going to do???
You were about to find out, but first he kissed you hot and hard as he decided to lick into your mouth and toy with your tongue for a little bit. To you relief, but slight disappointment, after he broke away from your lips he settled himself on his stomach between your legs. Immediately your eyes bugged out while he put your thighs on his shoulders, hooking his thick arms underneath you. Hunter green hair, curly and wild, disappeared between your legs as he went to town. 
It was like nothing you had ever felt before. Eyes rolling back, your sensitivity from your first orgasm of the night had you already keening and trying to buck against his hands holding your pelvis down. He had to have anticipated it, locking you into this position, and it was clear you had no escape. It was so odd, having barely an inch to rock forward if he did something good or jerk back against the bed if he did a little too much. “Zuku, oh god…” was the best thing you could breathe out.
Your coil was tightening fast, and he must’ve heard your breathing pick up because he shifted his arms, using one arm, only one, to keep you in place. Everything changed as soon as you felt the tips of scarred calloused fingers prodding your entrance. This was really happening and you wanted it, “Yes! Yes, yes, please Alpha, fill me up…” you heard his muffled groan against your center and you nearly orgasmed all over those digits because of the way they slid inside with ease.
Mouth latched over your clit, Izuku pumped his two fingers in and out of you slowly but surely. He could feel his cock leaking against your bed and he whimpered himself, the vibrations causing you to jolt and gasp. Ooooh...letting a growl out he couldn’t stop the smirk and started stretching his fingers in a scissoring motion, opening you up as good as he possibly could. Could he wiggle a third in? You were taking two so nicely, and with his knot later… “Mmph…” he moaned, jerking his own hips against the sheets. He decided to try it. 
“God, fuck...yeah, baby, such a good Omega, taking three fingers for me...I’m going to stretch you out the best I can, alright? So good, so perfect, just for me, all for me…” he blabbered, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your answering mewl pulled at the already fraying edges. He couldn’t last much longer himself, “Just one more, baby, my sweetpea...then I can give you what we both want...you want me to take you? Nice and slow and deep? Your slick tastes so good, baby, can’t get enough…” 
You didn’t take Izuku one for dirty talk, but you supposed you were both lost in the moment and each other the words were tumbling out of his mouth much like his usual ramblings. It was endearing, and what he was saying was definitely working. “Yes, Izuku, I’ll be so good for you...you’re taking good care of me, Alpha, sweetheart, oh god...I feel so full...I’m close…”
“I know you are, I can hear it, the way your breathing changes...god I can even feel how close you are right now…” his cock twitched. He was doing good. He was making her feel this way. “Gunna make you feel even more full...you want that? You want me to fill you up with my knot?” he pumped his fingers a little faster and curled them upwards.
“Yes!” you practically screamed in response, stars exploding behind your eyes for a second time in no time flat. “Right there…” you moan wantonly.
That was it. Rearing up, your leg going limp on the bed as you turned into a puddle, he surged towards the nightstand for the convenience store bag. He practically tore the box to shreds trying to get to the condoms, causing you to giggle breathlessly. The sound distracted him long enough he blushed shyly and went slower, making sure to pinch the tip and roll it on properly, nice and snug especially over the slight bump of his knot until it was flush against his groin. “Are you ready, baby?” he cooed, leaning his body over yours and with his dick in hand he rubbed the tip against your core.
“Yes...I want you, Izuku, I need you, so much. I love you, okay?” you smile at him sweetly, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down until your nipples brushed against his chest, and you forced your jelly legs up onto his hips, “Take me, make me yours.”
Jittery, nervous, he nodded and kissed you to distract you from any discomfort as he pressed into you. Oh, this man. All yours, too, your Fated, your Alpha, your Izuku Midoriya. He was right, though, even if it was dirty talk he did, in fact, fill you to the brim, until you believed you couldn’t take anymore. Stuffed so full of his cock, of him in your heart, tears brimmed your eyes. When you saw him about to fret over you, worries filling his eyes, you shushed him by petting his hair and his face, smiling with so much love and adoration that his own expression morphed from concern into a matching one, “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, sweetpea,” he kissed your nose, your cheeks where he licked at your stray tears, and then your lips, “I’m going to move now, okay?” at your nod, he shifted his hips and you both whimpered at the loss, only to moan when he pushed back in. He even lost his balance on one arm and dropped down even closer, allowing you to koala yourself onto his body. He chuckled and repeated the soft thrust, this time with a bit more purpose, a bit more force. “Good?”
All you could do was nod into his shoulder, eyes rolled back, “More…” and he complied. Again and again. He was big enough and even curved naturally that with one more shift of his hips he was hitting your g-spot both in and out. “Oh, Izuku…just like that, baby...don’t stop…”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he huffed into your shoulder, groaning along with you, “So tight…squeezing me so much…” Your heat-soaked scent was right under his nose. “I won’t stop until you cum again, baby. Gunna give you...such a good time…” he pumped a little faster, but more shallow. He couldn’t stand pulling out of you all the way.
Somehow, his grinding and bursts of his hips were what you needed. “Right there, just like that!” he was pressing into your cervix, you could feel it. Part of you was massively disappointed he wouldn’t be filling you up with his cum, but you also understood why. You couldn’t think clearly enough to talk about it. All you knew you wanted was this, this burning heat, the way his panting filled your ears, his scent in your face. You were trembling and whimpering, unsure how to even handle it all. “I’m gunna…” off you went for the third time.
He still didn’t stop.
Your mind was barely able to comprehend that he was kissing you with bruising force because you were nearly screaming bloody murder. His mouth swallowed everything as you thrashed and writhed against him, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder blades. That made him groan hard into you next, and he was plowing into you now. A fourth hit you without warning and it was like a continuous one from there, but he silenced your screams with his kisses.
“Ready for my knot, baby?” he growled between your sobs. He didn’t know how long he was going to hold out. It was his first time, too, after all. You were clamping down on him so hard his knot that was swelling was catching on each pass. He could hardly think now, either. “Can I bond you? Baby, can I?” he pleaded and you didn’t know why.
“You promised…” you managed to gasp.
“Ha...I did, didn’t I?” he was too breathless to chuckle, but now his jaw really ached, his fangs coming out. Yours were as well. “So close...Omega, baby...oh…” he kissed you again and along your jaw while his hips kept snapping, his hands creating bruises from his fingertips, and when he grazed where he would bond you he yelped. It hit him so suddenly his hips jerked and stuttered, slamming all the way inside. Latching onto you, his fangs broke the skin as his knot inflated, his cum filling the condom as your blood touched his tongue. Not even a second later your own managed to bore through his neck, but he didn’t even flinch.
It all came together, and it felt like everything snapped in place as your Bond formed between you. His chaotic mind was at peace. Your aching hearts were calm. Everything was still, beautiful, as you were lost in each other’s embrace. You both found who you had been waiting for all this time.
Fate had decided to be kind.
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