#if i see one more meme image i will explode myself. shut the fuck up im begging you

[theloveliesttime2023]

some of yall really need to realise that posting shit like "russia bombed poland" on this website with no context will only cause more panic and misinformation. get some reading comprehension and stop being an idiot for 2 seconds. americans especially and for the love of god stop making 'funny' memes about ww3

#poland #if i see one more meme image i will explode myself. shut the fuck up im begging you #felix.txt

[i-need-air]

King & Queen. – Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader.

Summary: Fluff, Baku being extra while confessing, social media shenanigans.

Word count: 1784.

It's 4 AM, I'm a mess but I needed to get this off my chest. I'm testing the waters with my writings, it's been forever since I wrote anything and I wanted to throw myself a little bit into the fandom I've been obsessed with for the past months. I do hope you enjoy it. ♥

Bakugou Katsuki took pride in having such a large following online. Ever since the first year UA Sports Festival, both his Twitter and Instagram accounts got thousands and thousands of followers, mostly crushing over him and others just hating on him, and in both ways he loved the attention.

The Aesthetics™ he had were always on point and his Twitter was just filled with one sentence tweets, re-tweets of famous heroes, a somewhat dry, dark and/or sarcastic meme from time to time, only and only if it fit (again) his aesthetics. Sometimes he'd engage with the Bakusquad, specially Kaminari and Mina, both very active users, and [Y/N], answering to her tweets with a one word roast and little more.

After the second year UA Sports Festival though? His social media reached the 100k mark, skyrocketing into a small celebrity as he won the first place for two years in a row. But what made him reach such a large number was the way he won. Their battle for the first place was insane, such a difference compared to what he had to deal with Todoroki in the past. [Y/N] put an amazing fight, there's no doubt to that, but the woman overused her quirk and he knew her weakness, mostly since he sometimes (rarely, almost never, pft) observed her train with Icy-Hot or Deku. It was a spectacle to watch and it has even been televised for a whole week afterwards, critics applauding how promising UA's students were. And that's how it all started.

The shipping.

Images and even fucking edited music videos of their fight were everywhere. It was so obvious both of them enjoyed the fight, the little grins they shared as they attacked each other, the small comments both threw and the camera and mics everywhere picked, the look Bakugou Katsuki gave [Y/N] when she kicked his ass. Such an adoration, followed by his insane grin, ready for a challenge. The look [Y/N] gave him, as he took the first place medal with pride from Endeavor, thriving at the applauses from the public. Stars were put to shame compared to the sparks in her eyes. Oh, and the moment their orbs made contact exactly after that? The chemistry.

Bakuy/n was one of their names online, apart from variations of their hero names mixed together. The fandom was slowly picking up a name, mostly going with the first mentioned. And Katsuki? He was fucking aware of everything. Her social media was on radio silence, but this event made him think. Actually think, not half-ass an idea and just throw himself head on into it. And the conversation he overheard was just making him plot now.

Mina and [Y/N] were actually discussing this exact topic. The pink girl was thriving for it. Her Twitter account was now filled with subliminal messages about love and it made her poor friend anxious. Basically because this issue hasn't been addressed at all with Bakugou and she planned to keep it that way. Yet Mina, sweet, adorable, loving Mina was just pressing on it really badly, but thankfully she never did when both sides of Bakuy/n were in the same room/conversation.

"Isn't it like so romantic?" Mina's eyes shined, hands clapped, her gaze looking somewhere in the distance, daydreaming.

"No, it's not, it's weird..." her [h/c] haired friend answered, falling more into the couch of their living quarters, trying to hide from the world.

"It would be if it wasn't obvious you pin for each other!"

"Oh, god, please stop saying that."

"You're not denying it though!"

"MINA!"

Laughter coming from the pinkette filled the room as the blond man decided not to interrupt and leave, small grin on his face as [Y/N]'s groans just told him what he needed to hear. She definitely did not deny the attraction and whatever chemistry they had.

Which leads to the current situation.

The girl was sitting in the cafeteria, waiting for Ochaco and Mina to come around, phone in hand as she scrolled mindlessly through Twitter, watching as her most recent tweet, the first one in ages, was getting attention. She giggled at Denki's stupidity, as he just posted a selfie of himself drenched in Diet Coke clearly in the UA bathrooms. Checking his replies she saw the boy she's been [kinda, lowkey, just a lil bit] trying to avoid for the past days.

[@BakugouKatsuki:]

"Dumbass."

[@MissPinky:]

"So THAT'S WHY U NEEDED MINTS!?!!!!!?? 🤣

She giggled again, entertained by her friends when her interactions just exploded. App actually crashed as she blinked while munching on some french fries dumbly.

As she tried to open her app again, both her friends landed by the table, joking about Kaminari and his never ending stupidity. Notifications popped again and again, legit confusing the girl to no end, making her ignore her two friends as they asked her what was going on, mainly because of her expression.

"The hell...?" she muttered, throwing the phone down while Twitter took its sweet, sweet time to load and open and just as she opened her mouth to answer Mina, she made eye contact with some very intense red eyes.

Clasping her mouth shut and ignoring Ochaco as she took [Y/N]'s phone to see what's going on, the girl could only focus on Bakugou, sitting a few tables away, facing her direction. She almost shivered in place under the intensity he was giving away, although his position was laid back, phone in one hand, chin in the other. And, again, gaze on her. He barely even blinked, his neutral expression giving nothing away and she knew she was blushing. Why was she a blushing mess under his gaze? Well, answer was obvious for everyone, even the whole internet now, but oh, she wished Bakugou Katsuki wasn't that sharp. Who are we kidding though?

Ochaco started to shake her out of her daze, interrupting the intense eye contact battle as she shoved her phone in her face.

"Oh. My. God." She muttered, stuttering her following words "Please, look at this, I can't believe it... Mina, check Twitter."

"If Kaminari threw Diet Coke and Mints in one of the bathroom toilets to 'experiment', I'm done with him." Mina responded but froze in place, just as [Y/N] looked away from the explosive boy. "Wait... WAIT!" her eyes almost popped out of her skull. "WHAAAAAAA–?!"

On the screen of her phone was the profile of the guy she's been crushing for... A year now? The guy that at first ignored her, then screamed at her, then beat her ass in training, then got his ass beaten by her, that scoffed at her shitty jokes, that actually chuckled at her shitty jokes, that studied with her, that smiled at her... The guy that complimented her when her quick improved. The guy that took her opinion seriously even when acting like he didn't care. The guy that stole her heart when he showed little glimpses of his complex persona only to her. The guy that fucking retweeted:

[@onlybakuy/nhere:]

"King & Queen."

And a picture attached, them shaking hands after their battle, ready to go get prepared for the podium. Bloodied, sweaty, yet both smiling at each other.

"I can't believe this–[Y/N]–" The brunette started rambling and fangirling besides her, but... With a careful glance, she peeked under her eyelashes to look at the boy again, her heart almost stopping when noticing he was still observing, small grin on his face hidden behind his hand, perfectly angled for her to see. "There's another one!"

Everything started to make sense, as she quickly checked her notifications to see the Internet™ just going crazy over that retweet. People started mass-following her, fans and stans just living for it, tagging her username with a screenshot of the retweet and now it hyped up again with... pictures of his profile? Did he change his description? He... changed his description. While there was absolutely nothing in there, now there was one single word. King.

Her eyebrows just rose so high her forehead hurt, the 3 braincells that were still somehow functioning were catching up to what the hell was going on and now she was positive, 100%, without a doubt that she was blushing like a mad-woman, a smile forming on her lips as she hit the retweet button on the same tweet he did and instantly opening her profile to edit.

Both her friends were freaking out by her side, accusing her of being way too calm in this situation, to explain but [Y/N] knew she couldn't utter any word, or even look up at them or at him. If she did, she'd break the spell, the moment, and as she deleted her description and only wrote a single word in her profile, her smile only widened. Hearing Mina screech after seeing her retweet, the girl giggled like an idiot.

Bakugou Katsuki was loud, brash, maybe a little bit emotionally constipated, rough around the edges, incredibly smart, observing, caring, awful with words but straight to the point with actions. And he was, without a doubt, fucking extra when doing things.

As she pressed the button Save on her profile, she caught him looking at his phone, being patted on the back by Kirishima, that somehow appeared in the frame yet was so distant in her field of vision as only he mattered at the moment. Waiting his reaction patiently and waiting for the internet to start freaking out again, her chest was hurting from the drumming of her heart. Hell, she knew she looked like a disaster with a flushed face, phone gripped so hard in her hand that it could break, a group of girls forming around her, noisy yet so distant. The world going in slow motion, seeing his crimson eyes widen for a fraction of a second, hiding more of his face in the palm of his hand as he still tried to look so casual, Kirishima's "Yeaaaaaaaah!" filled her ears as he tapped his finger on the screen, destination already clear. And when he saw what he needed...

He got up, leaving his tray of food behind, shit-eating grin basically parting the sea of people forming around them both as he marched towards where she was seated, and for the third time they made eye contact. His cheeks flushed, such a boyish expression coveting his normally angry features, mischievous and happy, relieved, just... Perfect.

Everything went in slow motion for her, his march, decisive and bold, as he always was, took to an end as he got to her, just giving her a hand and a raised brow, inviting her to leave with him anywhere but there.

And she took it without hesitation.

#bakugou x reader #Bakugou katsuki x reader #F!reader #bakugou katsuki #Mha #Bnha #Twitter #Social media #my hero academia #Boku no hero academia #Fluff #Bakugou is fucking extra #♥ ♥ ♥ #Noire writes

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

summertime sadness .5.

work day

Sequel to kiss me in the d-a-r-k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (masterlist under construction)

Warnings: dub con sex (fingering)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and dark(professor!)Bucky explicit. 18+ only. I know they aren’t super dark, but like questionable so I’m keeping those tags just to be safe.

Summary: Loki adds to your workload.

Note: Right, here we go, here we go, here go again. Girls, what's my weakness? Men! Sorry, minor detour there but are we ready for the darkness? Y'all hold onto your panties. Thanks everyone for their support and I love you all! 💋

<3 Let me know what you think in a reblog, reply, or like. I’m loving the feedback from y'all and the enthusiasm! Also as always, memes accepted.

💋💋💋

You didn’t sleep much. Every time you closed your eyes, the scene flashed behind your eyelids. Loki standing over you, the image on his phone, his hand on your chin. And then you thought of Bucky. It was hard not to; your phone buzzed all night as you ignored his messages. Steve’s too. It had finally caught up to you and it felt worse than you could imagine. A man you admired thought you nothing more than a floozy. Well, maybe you were.

Saturday shone through your window and you rolled over. You were exhausted; mentally, emotionally. Your hours were spent reprimanding yourself. Going over all your mistakes; every single choice that had led to such disaster. You sat up and rubbed your eyes. You moved slowly, your body cramped from the tension.

The grind of your coffee machine filled the apartment as you sat at your desk. A mark of your guilt. A gift from one illicit lover; another having defiled you a top it. A year ago, to think of all that had transpired, you would’ve been appalled. You were. You’d sold your integrity for fleeting pleasures. You felt cheated. By yourself more than any.

You filled a mug and grabbed your phone from beside your bed. You hadn’t looked at it since you laid down the night before. Missed calls, unanswered texts, unread emails. You answered Bucky first, a simple ‘I wasn’t feeling well. Sorry.’ Besides, he had plans with Tanya, or was busy dodging her.

You texted the same to Steve and his response was swift. Your phone vibrated as his ID flashed across the screen and you answered the call after several rings. You were weak, breathless.

“Hey,” You said quietly and sipped your coffee.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked.

“Fine,” You lied poorly. “Work’s kept me busy and… I guess it’s gotten ahead of me.”

“Oh,” He uttered. “Any plans today?”

“Rest,” You shrugged and sat back in your chair. “After I sort through all my work emails and catch up.”

“Bucky?” He asked.

“I… I’m tired.” You grumbled. “I… need a break.”

“I’m sure work would understand if you took a day to yourself.” Steve said.

“No, no, I can’t do that,” You said suddenly. “I wasn’t talking about work.”

“What do you--”

“You shouldn’t be calling me. You should call Kylie. See how she’s doing.” You interrupted. “And Bucky should worry about his students. About marking and whatever. And I need to think about myself and my job.” You stood and paced around the small space of your apartment. “I’m sorry but… you said it yourself. It’s okay to be selfish, so I’m going to be selfish and think about my future because fucking old men isn’t going to get me anywhere.”

You hung up before he could respond. And then your heart sank. Why had you said that? It all had spilled from you so quickly. You cringed and your phone began to buzz again. It was Steve. You let out a shaky breath and dismissed the call. You set your phone to do not disturb’ and tossed it on your bed. Maybe your words were rash but it didn’t make them any less true.

💋

Monday. You walked into Adder Press with a pit in your stomach. You were jittery from more than your morning coffee. You gripped the strap of your bag tightly as you passed Stacey. Everything around you seemed distant, obscured by the haze that fell over you. You sat at your desk, numb, and began to set out your stuff as you always did. In a desperate attempt to make it all feel normal again.

As you waited for your computer to boot, you felt a subtly weight on the back of your chair. You looked up at Loki as he gripped the chair and smirked down at you. You blanched and your pen slipped from your hand. He bent to grab it before you could and as he rose, he dragged the lid against your leg. He held it out and you snatched it from him.

“Morning meeting in five,” He said as he stood before you. “Then I wanted to go over layout with you. A useful lesson if you ever hope to be anything more than a freelancer. You have to have a good eye… for detail.”

You gulped and nodded. “Yes, okay, yeah.” You set the pen down on your desk. “Five minutes.”

He winked and left you there to stew in your shame. You glanced around but no one else seemed to notice your tense interaction. They were all too concerned with their own schedules, their own presence at the meeting. Really, who cared much about the summer intern?

You were antsy as you walked into the conference room. You hid between Vanessa, a political pundit, and Jory, who covered local business stories. Loki sat near the head of the table as the marketing head went over the final prints of the Pride issue. You folded your hands before you but couldn’t concentrate. 

Your eyes wandered from the powerpoint and you found the editor-in-chief peering over at you. Another sinister grin sent a chill through you. You looked back to the screen and prayed for the day to go quickly. Your heart felt as if it would explode.

When you broke out, you dragged your feet and were the last out of the room. You lingered at your desk as you grabbed your notebook and pen. Loki’s office beckoned to you ominously. He stood in the doorway watching you; waiting for you. You neared him as his lips curled.

He shut the door and you jumped at the click. He brushed past you before he rounded his desk. He pulled a chair with him and placed it beside his. He waved you over. You took a breath and crossed to him. As you sat, he pinched your ass and you pressed your lips together to keep from yelping.

His hand settled on your thigh as his other moved his mouse. He opened a page from last month’s issue and kept his eyes on the screen as he kneaded your leg. “We’ll go over composition. How to draw the reader’s eye and using layout to enhance your words.”

You nodded stiffly and shakily opened your notebook. He kept his hand on your thigh as you place the book on his desk and uncapped your pen. He circled the title with his cursor, entirely unfazed by your discomfort. His fingers slipped closer to your pelvis.

“Titles are easy but you’ll want to position them according to article type as well. Is it an editorial? Review? Reflective?” He continued. “Now, most editors would leave this to marketing and such but… I try to be hands on with every aspect of my business. My seal is on every page, ever word, that goes out.”

You scribbled down a jumble of words as his hand slid between your thighs and he squeezed. You flinched and he let out a soft chuckle under his breath. You kept your wide eyes on the monitor and he carried on his lesson. His hand never quite reaching its target. He was teasing you. Asserting the new power he held over you.

When he finished his spiel, he drew away and turned his chair to face you. His legs were far apart and you tried not to look at the obvious bulge in his pants. You kept your head down as you slipped your notebook down onto your lap. 

“I’ve got an important lunch date tomorrow,” He said. “I should like you to accompany me, darling.”

You peeked up at him. “Okay.”

“Sceptre Press is looking to expand its mediums. The director of Celestial has agreed to discuss a partnership.” He said coolly.

“Oh?” You breathed. “They… do podcasts?”

“Mostly,” He confirmed. “But, my dear, do wear something nice. A skirt.”

You crossed your legs. Your straight-cut pants felt thin enough. “Alright.”

“No panties.” He licked his lips. “Our little secret… well, another one, yeah?”

“Okay.” You said. You bit down and your pen rolled out of your grasp once more. 

His eyes followed the pen and flicked back to you. “Well, go on,” He mused. “Very… clumsy today.”

You bent to retrieve your pen and he caught the back of your head. He held you there and rolled his chair closer so that his lap was only inches from your face. He snickered as you tried to pull away but quickly gave up. His other hand stretched over his crotch and he grasped his erection through the thin fabric of his trousers.

“I could make you do it right now,” He slithered. “Hmm?”

“Yes,” You uttered. 

“I’m tempted,” He rubbed himself and shifted his hand as he pushed you closer. “Kiss it.” You closed your eyes and kissed his bulge. He shivered and let you go. You sat up, dizzy, and he grinned at you. “Not yet.” He preened. “But I do have to take care of this…” He ran his hand across his lap again. “So if you would excuse me. I am certain you have work to catch up on.”

You stood and back away slowly. “Yes, sir.” You turned as you rounded the desk.

“Sir? I like that,” He called from behind you as you neared the door. “Oh, darling, one more thing.”

You spun back to him and shielded your chest with your notebook. “Yes?”

“I’ll need some inspiration so before you sit down, go to the lav and take a nice photo for me.” He made a show of unzipping his pants behind his desk. “I bet you’re wearing a sweet little white bra, aren’t you? Maybe a precious pink number?”

Your throat tightened as you stared back at him. “Okay.” You forced out. “Is that all?”

“For now,” He shooed you away with a wave of his fingers. “As you will.”

💋

You had few skirts to choose from. You settled on a lavender one that ended just above your knees. With it, you wore a blouse with a Peter Pan collar and a grey blazer with three-quarter length sleeves. It wasn’t as enticing as any other outfit you owned; which was not at all. Perhaps that would work in your favour.

When you arrived at the bistro, Loki waved you ahead of him as you followed the hostess to your booth. You slid across the bench first and he was close behind. He took out his phone and checked it before he set it face down on the table. He asked for water and nothing else.

Your leg shook under the table nervously. He grabbed your thigh to still you. The waitress returned and he thanked her, his hand still on your leg. When she departed, his fingers slowly gathered your skirt. You reached to pull it back and he tssked.

“Our associate has informed me she’s running late.” He grinned. “About twenty minutes or so.” You squirmed as his hand slipped beneath your hem. “I think we can fill our time accordingly.”

“L--Mr. Laufeyson,” You gasped. “Someone might see.”

“They’d have to be watching us very closely,” He leaned against you as his fingers crawled along the top of your thigh. “Now,” He shoved his hand between your legs roughly. “Let’s have some fun, darling.”

You parted your legs reluctantly and he tickled along your cunt. You grabbed the edge of the table and your eyes searched frantically. The other diners were occupied with their own meals, their own company. You felt as invisible as you had back at the office. He rubbed you slowly. He lifted his glass with his other hand as he continued.

“After our meeting, I think we’ll head back to the office and call a conference. We’ll need ideas for prospective podcasts,” He swirled his fingertips and you let out a long breath between your teeth. “Of course, if this all goes to plan.”

You whimpered as you felt yourself getting wet. His fingers glided easily along your folds as he spread your arousal. You planted your elbow on the table and held your chin as you bit your lip. Mortified, you tried to hide your face.

“Uh uh,” He grabbed your wrist and shoved it down as his fingers dipped inside you. “Look at me.”

You leaned back against the booth as you looked over at him. He smirked as he moved his fingers steadily in and out of you. He pressed his palm to your clit and the sensation made your legs shake again.

“Is this what you like? Sneaking around?” He taunted. “Is this what he does, hmm? Or maybe he bends you over his desk?”

“Mr. Lauf--” You swallowed down a moan and clapped your hand over your mouth.

“I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it,” He sped up and your thighs squeezed his hand. “Are you going to cum? Here in front of everyone? In the middle of this restaurant?”

Your eyes rounded and you grabbed his shoulder pleadingly. You couldn’t speak, afraid you would cry out instead.

“You like being a naughty little girl, don’t you?” He curled his fingers and you heard a subtle squelch as your walls twitched around him. 

You bared your teeth and latched onto his arm. You rocked your hips without thinking as you came. You let out a shuddery breath and he slid his fingers out of your cunt, sure to drag them along your folds. He untangled his arm from your grasp and you fell back against the seat and pushed down your skirt.

He raised his hand and ran his wet fingers over your lips. He pressed against your mouth until you opened it. He stared into your eyes as he made you suck your own cum off his knuckles. He withdrew them and used a napkin to wipe away your saliva.

“It is a pity, however, that this lunch should set you behind, darling,” He crossed his legs and drank from his water again. “You will have to stay late tonight… to catch up.”

“Yes, sir,” You ceded.

He smirked and looked around. A moment of silence before he perked up and stood. He buttoned his jacket so it hid his bulge and greeted the tall woman who approached you. He shook her hand with the same one he’d just had between your legs. You stood in kind. Your legs felt weak.

“Valerie,” He purred. “Thank you for fitting us in today.”

“Us?” She looked between you. “And sorry about the delay. Traffic was… traffic.”

“My intern,” He introduced you by name, “She’s shadowing me for the day. To get an idea of the business and all its little quirks.”

You shook her hand and you sat down as she did the same. The server was quick to appear and offer you menus. You eagerly took yours, hoping to hide behind it for the rest of the meal. Especially as that familiar and irresistible tingle nestled in your core.

#summertime sadness #kiss me in the d-a-r-k #stever rogers #Bucky Barnes #loki fic #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark loki #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #loki x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!loki #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!loki x reader #dark!fic #Dark Fic #Fic #au #series #Sequel #marvel #MCU #captain america

[suca-loca]

slip of the tongue.

Pairing: Anxceit (Virgil/Janus)

Tags: Sympathetic!Janus, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: It was supposed to be a quick phone call. They found out Patton got a promotion - from a Facebook post of all things - so of course, they called to congratulate him. Had Damien known he’d end the call with “See you at Christmas, Dad” he would have just congratulated him in the comments.

Author’s Note: I completed this a week before Deceit’s name was revealed so... oops. That’s why he’s named Damien in this fic. Also, the Eleanor and Park book is kinda problematic. The quote I reference here really touched me during a hard time which is why I used it, although I do not recommend reading it because the representation is b l e g h .

————

“Holy shit.”

Damien hides his face in his hands.

“Holy. Shit.”

A sound eerily similar to that of a dying bear leaves Damien’s mouth.

Virgil laughs. He doesn’t even try to hide it. He explodes like a shaken Coca Cola can until he’s nothing but a mess of overflowing tears and fizzling out snorts.

Beside him on the couch, Damien grabs one of the pillows. “Oh, how I adore seeing you enjoy yourself over me acting like a fool,” he grumbles as he smacks it over Virgil’s head. “It really shows how great of a boyfriend you are.”

Virgil, unable to speak - because he’s currently bent over, clutching at his sides - responds with two middle fingers.

Damien reaches for the last remaining couch pillow.

“No!” Virgil somehow wheezes out, the terror in his voice terribly contrasting against the grin on his face. “I’ll stop! I’ll stop!”

Damien doesn’t believe him. He throws it without mercy.

He was right to see through Virgil’s lie because two minutes pass before Virgil finally gets it out of his system. All the while Damien waits at the opposite end of the couch, watching with a pout as his boyfriend begins to crawl towards him.

“That-“ Virgil wipes away one last tear from his eye - “was beautiful. Truly the greatest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life. I would love to see it on the big screen, looping for ten hours.”

Damien gives him a (totally real) disgusted look as a kiss is pressed against his cheek. “You are insufferable.”

“Is that why you made my pancakes this morning in the shape of hearts?”

“You’re totally right! Next time I won’t go through the trouble of making the pancakes into different shapes. I’ll just poison them.”

Virgil chuckles.

“Don’t you start again!” Damien groans, looking like he wants the couch to become quicksand and swallow him up. “I’ll get up and grab the pillows from the floor. Watch me.”

“Sorry,” Virgil says in a tone that is definitely not at all sorry. “It’s just...You just called my dad, Dad. That’s, like, better than when you said you loved me for the first time.”

It was supposed to be a quick phone call. They found out Patton got a promotion - from a Facebook post of all things - so of course, they called to congratulate him. Had Damien known he’d end the call with “See you at Christmas, Dad” he would have just congratulated him in the comments.

Damien watches in horror as he sees Virgil’s shoulders begin to shake as the memory comes back to him.

“It wasn’t a slip of the tongue if you consider the circumstances!” He cries out, desperately not wanting to sit through another one of Virgil’s cackling.

He only realizes what he said when Virgil’s dimples disappear and are replaced with a curious look.

“Oh?” Virgil coos, smirking in the same way that made Damien fall in love with him all those years ago. “Care to explain what these circumstances are, D?”

Damien fiddles with the hem of his pajama shirt. He’s blushing.

“Well,” he inhales sharply, suddenly acting so small and nervous in a way Virgil has never seen from him in the four years they’ve known each other. “I should get used to calling him dad since he’ll become my father-in-law.”

Virgil stills. “What?”

Deceit stands up, only to then drop to one knee.

Now it’s Virgil’s turn to inhale sharply.

“Virgil Hart,” Damien looks up at him with clear adoration and a voice oozing with love from just those two words, “Years ago, for some odd - and very stupid - reason you risked sitting in a jail cell for a guy you didn’t know.”

Virgil blushes, the day they met coming back to him in pieces. He remembers sneaking out of his college dorm room past curfew to join a protest. Remembers how the protest turned south as sirens could be heard ten blocks down. Remembers the adrenaline that passed through him as he chucked an egg at one of the cops who was in the middle of arresting some guy. Remembers the adrenaline being replaced with fear as the cop charged at him, only to then be pulled down the street by the same man he rescued.

Remembers the two of them hiding in a thrift shop that sold dildos and smelled too much like weed. Remembers learning the man’s name was Damien from the slip of paper handed to him with a phone number. Remembers getting caught sneaking back into his dorm room and not even caring as the principal shouted at him because he was too busy thinking about what a great runner Damien was. He also remembers thinking how great it was to run behind Damien.

“And now,” Damien says as he presses a kiss against Virgil’s hand, “because of your lack of control that day, we sit here in this apartment that we share. With plates still in the sink that is your turn to wash, with two cats I gifted Patton curled up on our beds because you never told me he was allergic and with the insides of my favorite sweaters smudged with black lipstick because no matter where I hide them you always find them,

But, I wouldn’t change it for the world. Which I now realize, given my moral compass, doesn’t say much, so let me rephrase; I wouldn’t change it even if it meant I had to delete all my eat the rich tweets. I didn’t realize it then, but I fell in love with you the moment I heard that egg crack against the cop's helmet. I only continued to fall more in love with you as you sent me memes past midnight and the way you scrunch up your face every time someone admits to never reading one of Edgar Allan Poe’s work. You are an inspiration to me and I hope that you remain only my inspiration. Which is why, Virgil Hart, I ask you today...”

Damien slips out a ring. It’s all black, except for the purple jewel at the center, decorated with petals curling to where the diamond sits.

“Will you marry me?”

Virgil blinks.

“There’s cheeto dust on the hoodie I’m wearing.”

Damien raises an eyebrow. “Excellent observation skills.”

“Our cats’ assholes combined are in a better state than my hair right now,” Virgil continues.

“Thank you for the mental image.”

“I gained ten pounds this week!”

“I was wondering why our cuddling sessions felt better.”

“I’m pretty sure my breath smells like Remus’ room.”

“I’m well aware. I kissed you good morning, remember?”

“Then why the fuck do you still have the ring out?!” Virgil huffs, pulling his hands away. He gestures to himself. “Do I look like a picture-worthy fiancé?”

Damien raises an eyebrow. “So what you’re saying is… I should propose after you’ve taken a shower?”

“No!”

Virgil yanks his hands away. He does it so hard Damien is surprised the other doesn’t send him flying backwards. His temper flares and his mouth snaps open to say something snarky, but it shuts when his eyes fall on the emo’s face.

Sad isn’t the right word to use. It’s devastation. Even with Virgil burying his face against the knees hugged to his chest Damien can see how hard his lips wobble and the way his eyes blink rapidly against the incoming of tears.

“Why can’t you see I’m not worthy to be a fiancé?” He croaks, voice going weaker towards the end. “Much less yours?”

Damien wastes no time cradling Virgil’s face in his hands. He rubs the pad of his thumb against Virgil’s left cheek, knowing it’ll help calm him down.

“Eleanor was right,” he begins, voice softer than the most expensive silk money could buy. “She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice. It was supposed to make you feel something.”

Virgil’s breath hitches. “Eleanor and Park, chapter 28, page 165. My favorite quote.”

Damien clicks his tongue. “And yet the message escapes you. You’re not stupid, mi vida. So stop acting like it. You’re too good to fall for society's expectations of beauty.”

Virgil looks ready to interject, but Damien keeps going.

“When I bought this ring it wasn’t because I thought every angle was your best angle. It wasn’t because you lack fewer fat rolls than other people. It was because of how you showed up at my door with my favorite movie and snacks after I got a bad grade on an exam. It’s because of how you headbang and jump around the living room every time I put The Crow soundtrack on when we clean.”

Damien brushes Virgil’s bangs to the side. He presses a kiss against his boyfriend’s forehead. Virgil is quiet through all of this.

“And most importantly, it’s because whenever I picture myself happy it’s with you.”

A sob breaks through the silence. Tears, big fat crocodile ones, pour down Virgil’s face. For a second Damien thinks he said something wrong, but then Virgil swoops down to capture his lips in a kiss.

There’s nothing soft about it. Not even three seconds in and Virgil’s hand tugs at his long locks, making Damien see stars. Somehow he’s able to break through the daze and wrap his arms around Virgil’s back, pulling him close until there’s no space between them.

Besides the occasional growl and groan, there’s just the sound of their heavy breathing whenever they disconnect for a few seconds and then continue where they left off. Virgil plays dirty by wrapping his legs around the other’s waist, so Damien retaliates by biting at his lips.

When they break apart, eyes half-lidded and hands still wandering, they smile at one another.

“Brilliant idea,” Damien breaks the silence first, voice rough like sandpaper. “Kissing me while you’re crying. Now all I can taste is salt - ow!”

Damien rubs the spot where Virgil threw a pillow at him. All the while Virgil sticks out the same tongue just shoved down his throat a second ago.

“Well played,” Damien grumbles.

Virgil shrugs. “It was either the pillow or not saying yes.”

“Truly, what a difficult decision. Me versus your fragile pride.”

“Shut up and give me the ring before I hit you twice.”

Damien rolls his eyes, but there’s fondness behind them as he slips the ring on. All the while Virgil is smiling so wide and so hard he doesn’t know how his face doesn’t crack from the pressure.

Virgil knows for a fact that his eyes are puffy, that his nose is running and that his face is the same color as a cherry. But he doesn’t care. All he can focus on is the man in front of him, with his beautiful mind and a stunning smile currently aimed (and from now on always will be) only at him.

“I love you.”

Damien doesn’t hesitate. “I love you too.”

Damien watches with love in his eyes as Virgil’s eyes crinkle around the corners.

He then watches with confusion as Virgil pulls out his phone.

“Oh no,” Damien groans, “don’t tell me you’re going to tell your Tumblr followers the news first.”

“First off, fuck you. You’re just sour over the fact that Remus was the first person I told about my Tumblr account. Secondly,” Virgil puts the phone to his ear. “No, I’m not.”

The person on the other end of the line picks up on the first ring.

“Kiddo, I was hoping you’d call back! Tell Damien I don’t mind what he said. I take it as a compliment, truly!”

Virgil smiles. “I’ll do you one better. How about I give you the phone to talk to him yourself?”

He hands the phone over.

Damien, once again, doesn’t hesitate.

“Good morning, father-in-law.”

#Sanders Sides #Thomas Sanders #Anxceit #Virgil #Deceit #Patton #very briefly though #Sympathetic!Deceit #my fic

[shirlleycoyle]

My Life as a Meme: ‘I Can’t Believe You’ve Done This’ Revisited

In November 2007, an entirely contextless video of me being punched in the face went viral. You might have seen it. It still does the rounds every couple of months, often when something notably bad happens that warrants a response of disbelief. In these strange times, it’s managed to remain endlessly prescient.

For the uninitiated, the video in question is an 11-second clip in which, aged 16, I appear wearing a dressing gown cord around my head, a chain necklace, some children’s sunglasses and a black T-shirt. I sit down and address the camera, ostensibly about to tell the viewer what I was thinking. I am immediately interrupted by my friend Tim, who appears stage left and lamps me. Rather than react in pain or anger, I err more towards disappointment and dismay, bewildered that something like this could happen. “Ah fuck. I can’t believe you’ve done this,” I said. End scene.

It’s been nearly 14 years since I uploaded the original video and to this day it still prompts questions. Who was the guy who got punched? Why did he get punched? Who punched him? What was he thinking? Why did he react that way? Why did he leave YouTube?

In recent years I’ve come to appreciate and even enjoy its bizarre status as an enduring piece of internet history, but my relationship with the clip in the decade that followed its inexorable rise hasn’t always been easy. To understand why, it’s useful to remember that the internet in 2007 was, for better or worse, a very different place.

Having spent the best part of my school years filming stupid skits with mates instead of studying, there was something semi-appealing about the prospect of being able to put videos online to share with friends. It began in mid-2003, when myself and a group of friends would have been in our early teens. Inspired by the likes of Jackass and Bam Margera’s CKY movies, our impressionable young selves set about ignoring all relevant safety warnings, hurling ourselves out of trees, riding scooters into curbs, and racing tyres down hills on skateboards.

At the age of 14 or so, I had envisaged cutting the footage into a chaotic feature-length video of “stunts.” I’d probably have soundtracked it with music from the Tony Hawk games, alongside countless other homemade skate videos people made circa 2003 that probably featured a mix of Ace of Spades or Guerilla Radio. I still have a box full of VHS-C tapes kicking around somewhere, which can only be viewed on one of those absolutely insane VHS adapters. Having not watched any of it in well over a decade, I can safely say that the content contained within those tapes is unequivocally shit.

All of a sudden you're everywhere and it's out of your control. You either try to fight it and get destroyed, or embrace it and try to cash in.

Looking back, the whole endeavour was entirely aimless, but aside from coming away with mild head injuries from time to time it was an innocuous way to spend my childhood. At the very least it also means I have a bizarre, tangible record of my youth that I’ll be able to laugh at one day when I’m old and wizened.

By summer 2004, we had started filming on Mini-DV, which opened up a whole new world of editing possibilities. Plugging a video camera into a computer and capturing footage directly to editing software is pretty much a given for today’s generation of content creators, but back in the early 2000s, this was revolutionary.

We’d eventually gravitate away from ‘stunts’ towards more structured skits and sketches. Nothing was ever scripted per se, but we’d usually start out with a rough idea of something and see how it played out.

There was an ambitiously misguided 'silent horror' short, soundtracked by Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells, in which someone chopped off ‘my cock’ (a banana) with a garden shear. We considered this to be the absolute pinnacle of comedy.

There was an ill-advised 'Ballers' skit in which we ventured out in sports gear to make a mock training video taking the piss out of a guy at school who fancied himself as a bit of a gangster; this painfully middle-class white kid who listened to rap metal and liked basketball. He obviously never saw it and there's no question that we looked like idiots filming it at the local park. It’s probably quite offensive in hindsight.

The author at the Bristol Climate Change Protests in September 2019. Image: Shanya Buultjens

There was a James Bond 'spoof' that involved misquoting portions of dialogue from that scene in GoldenEye where Q gives Bond an exploding pen. It was funny to about three people. One of them was my mum.

One time a mate of mine fell out of a tree when he tried to swing from a branch. He landed on his back and ended up coughing up blood. He didn’t go to the hospital even though he probably should have. He’s now a doctor and a father.

Mercifully, none of this stuff ever made it online, but I did sell a couple of DVDs to people at school who rightly/probably/hopefully never watched them. In an ideal world, I'd own the only copies. I'm also fully aware that writing about this now only makes it more likely that one of the four people that still have a copy will dig theirs out. Please do not do that.

In 2005 and 2006, YouTube was very much in its infancy. This was the time when clips were limited to about 100mb and you could only upload about 30 seconds worth of footage at a time, which basically made it perfect for bursts of frenetic, inane content. As the platform grew, it became a dumping ground for skits and footage that we’d accumulated over the preceding years. Much of it went completely unnoticed until late 2007, at which point things started to get a bit weird.

The truth is that, nearly a decade and a half later, I’m still processing it.

The clip that people have come to know started out as an aimless skit filmed in Summer 2006. We hadn’t planned anything, least of all me being punched. In the footage building up to the event, I pushed Tim off the chair, he fell and hit his head on a filing cabinet off-camera. Rather than react to Tim, I sat down and proceeded to ad lib something that I’d venture to guess would have been considerably less funny than the act of violence that followed. Unprompted, Tim upsided me and I reacted with an inexplicable, completely incredulous response, which has followed me online ever since.

The footage sat on a tape until July 2007 when I decided to upload a brief segment under an ambiguous title. Fast forward to November and the video had somehow blown up, had its comments section relentlessly spammed, been ripped countless times and had offensive Wiki pages written about it. I also received a few direct messages which could at best have been described as ‘worrying’ and at worst ‘threatening,’ which was nice.

To this day, I’m none the wiser as to how it blew up in the way it did. I originally uploaded the video under the title ‘ ___________’ but the video somehow found its way onto 4chan where it spread like wildfire. The earliest mirrored link I could find was from January 2008, by which time it had been re-uploaded by multiple accounts, the most prominent of which had already clocked up almost double the number of views compared to my original upload.

At the time, going viral wasn't really comparable to any other experience and it certainly wasn't something I could discuss in solidarity with my friends. All of a sudden you're everywhere and it's out of your control. You either try to fight it and get destroyed, or embrace it and try to cash in. After yanking down several other videos on my YouTube channel, I opted for the latter.

When the video blew up, I got a call from a friend who informed me that the video had made the front page of Break.com. I peripherally knew what that meant: they offered a buyout scheme for videos that made the front page, which meant that I could make some money from it.

As it transpired, this wasn’t such a great idea. After signing a release form with some pretty appalling terms, over the following months I had several unnerving interactions with researchers for various TV shows looking to license the clip. Each offered far more favourable terms than those of Break. One of them harassed a bunch of my mates on Facebook. I think he even offered to pay one of them for my contact details.

By that point, it was all too apparent that I had completely fucked it. Break had the rights and I couldn't do anything with it even if I wanted to. At just 18 years old, I had sold out. In the short term, I used the money to buy a TV, which was great, but I soon started to get the creeping feeling that this was a decision that would come to haunt me. At that point, it was easier to disassociate myself from the clip, abandon YouTube, and move on with my life.

And yet, for the best part of 14 years the questions have kept coming: no, it wasn’t staged or scripted, it wasn’t a set-up, I didn’t know it was coming and, yes, it hurt. It was also very funny, which is presumably why I felt the need to upload it in isolation in the first place. Incidentally, Tim and I are still friends and contrary to some of the absolutely insane comments people leave on YouTube I can confirm that neither of us are in prison, the punch wasn’t a reaction to some sort of disagreement and he’s a lovely bloke.

To be clear, the lack of context wasn’t a deliberate choice to add intrigue either. I’d never even considered the possibility that anyone outside my circle of friends would see it. To me it was just another daft clip that a few mates would find funny.

Around the time I’d started to make peace with the issues around ownership, in 2018 it came to my attention that Break had shut down and its owner Defy Media had gone bust. The site was subsequently purchased by Yeah1 Network, but to this day I have no clarity whatsoever on my legal rights to the video. Any attempts to receive guidance have either turned up dead ends, or led to suggestions that I speak to IP lawyers, whom I have neither the means nor the time to deal with. Incidentally, if anyone has any insights in that area, I’d love to hear them.

Having said this, there’s something quite empowering in taking something embarrassing and admitting to it before someone else can point it out to you—a bit like taking ownership of an amusing surname. I’ll leave it to you to figure out what gags can be made from the name ‘Weedon,’ but I learned quite early on that if you make the jokes yourself and beat others to it, no one can fucking touch you. It’s much easier nowadays to hold my hands up and admit that I shouldn’t have sold the rights, make a joke of it and move on. At the very least, it makes for a good anecdote at parties.

As I suspect is probably the case for old content creators, if you can even call us that, the real story about I Can’t Believe You’ve Done This isn’t in how it’s aged and endured, or even how it’s impacted my life. For me, it’s tied up in issues of rights, ownership, and monetisation. As mercenary as it might be, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t regret missing out on a slice of the pie when it came to YouTubers being able to monetise their content sooner. On the one hand, that's probably a very cynical view for something that was created by a bunch of teenagers who were fooling around making videos for fun in the noughties, but on the other, that's just the world we live in now.

Perhaps the strangest thing about my experience with it nowadays is the way people engage with it on a day-to-day basis. The comments vary from young people discovering its origins for the first time, surprised to discover that it is in fact a 14 year old video and not a recent creation filmed for Vine or TikTok. At the other end of the spectrum are those who are incredulous that someone with a video that has 9.2 million views and an account that’s amassed over 15,000 followers without really trying would step away from the platform and not want to make content.

The truth is that, nearly a decade and a half later, I’m still processing it. I love seeing how it’s been re-interpreted in modern mediums and that positive association has made it easier to accept. Charles Cornell turned it into a sad song. It got sampled in a KIll The Noise track. I had a nice interaction with The Sidemen about it. Will Smith even featured it in an insane Instagram post during the pandemic. I DM’d him to say thanks and he obviously didn’t reply.

To that end, a small group of us have recently started work on a film project exploring the nature of the meme, how it grew, its impact on my life and my relationship with the internet at large. In doing so, the hope is that, while answering some of the burning questions that other people still seem to have, I’ll ultimately be able to make peace with the whole thing.

@Twotafkap

My Life as a Meme: ‘I Can’t Believe You’ve Done This’ Revisited syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[moonprincess92]

Congrats on the follower count! How about rebelcaptain + one is on a blind date that's not going well and the other is the waiter. Bonus points if Jyn is the waitress!

Ok so I have to apologise profusely anon, because Iattempted to write this prompt in like 3 different ways and absolutely none ofit worked. I TRIED I REALLY DID AND IM SO SORRY, but since it wasn’t working I wrote you something else instead and it’s literally completely different but I hope you’ll still like it anyway. x

Please enjoy this ‘you accidentally sent me a booty text butI’m considering saying yes anyway’ au 

His phone buzzed just as he was stumbling in through his frontdoor with his arms full of groceries. Refusing to make the trip up the stairstwice, he was laden down with probably more than he should have carried at once andcursed when he started losing grip on his jacket under his armpit. Kicking thedoor shut behind him, he couldn’t check the message until he had dumped all thebags onto his kitchen counter in relief. The little messenger icon was afamiliar face so he tapped it absently as he started unpacking a bag –

– and promptly choked.

Usually if Jyn messaged him this late at night, it was because shehad found yet another thing to criticise from his latest essay. She apparentlydid all her best reading after 10pm because god forbid he ever get grilled at adecent hour, but he liked their conversations all the same. Used to theirchatting being based about their classes or occasionally straying into memesand their favourite tv shows, he was now quite literally rendered speechless atthe photo he had apparently just been sent. 

Though her face wasn’t visible he had nodoubt it was Jyn just from the sheer muscle definition that he could sure ashell see because the only times he’d ever seen her this de-clothed before was whenthey’d occasionally hit up the gym together. She was almost naked in the mirror selfie she’d sent, her arms toned, her abs rock hard… fuck. It sent everything south and he didn’t know what the hell sound just came out of his mouth, but it miiiiight’ve been a whimper. The bra she wore in the selfie waswhite and lacy and the accompanying caption read:

this bra was too nice to not share

He… well, quite honestly, he stared for so long he thought hemight just be having a brain aneurysm. She had to be joking, right? Sure, this wasnothing like Jyn’s sense of humour, but it literally HAD to be a joke becauseit didn’t make sense if it wasn’t. The message felt like she had sent it (thesevere lack of punctuation kind of gave her away) but it was so far out of leftfield that he was almost certain it hadn’t been meant for him. No, some otherlucky bastard out there was supposed to be on the receiving end of thismessage, because he and Jyn weren’t like that, and who cared if maybe he kindof wanted to be likethat, because they weren’t and they couldn’t –

Zmmm.

Another message popped up. This time, it appeared that Jyn waskeyboard bashing.

Akjdskjdfjfdjdf FUCK Im so sorrycassian shit pls ignore this PLS

It didn’t help calm his racing heart at all.

He knew he had frozen foods slowly defrosting away in his grocerybags still, but they seemed like a minor detail in comparison to the battlewracking his mind. Quite honestly… he’d been on the verge of throwing allcaution to the wind and playing along. Maybe sending something a littlesuggestive back. It wasn’t an outright booty text, but it definitely wasn’tinnocent either and perhaps it was the way to start, a way to just flirt alittle, what could go wrong… but then he got that answer and he pressed hisforehead to his kitchen counter with a frustrated sigh. 

On the days he wasn’tkidding himself, he knew that he was an absolute fucking goner for Jyn Erso.She was prickly and defensive and didn’t let any minor grammatical error pasther, but once she got used to you she was hilarious to be around and her smileliterally made his heart stop these days. Sometimes, on the nights they wouldstudy together late at the library, she would linger as he packed his booksaway and he got the feeling that hopefully, MAYBE, she was a goner too.

But then she said things like that and he would squash it alldown.

Another message. He lifted his head gingerly to read it.

God cassian SAY SOMETHING DAMN IT I need to know that I haven’tjust ruined our entire friendship lmao

He stared at her words, grappling hard until eventually, hefigured fuck it.

Friendship’s overrated. I was going to say it definitely looked nice.

He hit send before he could lose his nerve and wondered if it wasa little overdramatic to turn his entire phone off for good measure. He heldhimself back from adding on ‘just kidding’ and instead, forced himself to startputting away his groceries.

Another buzz made him drop the bag of frozen vegetables.

well, good. I wouldnt wanna waste a good selfie.

Cassian bit his tongue and typed back.

Honestly selfie game is 10/10. How’d you even get that angle?

I might’ve stood on somethin to make me tall enough. also might’venearly killed myself in the process 

Ah the price we pay for a good selfie…

Gotta get these boobs lookin good somehow

They’ve been doing just fine before now, tbh 

Fuck. That might’ve been a bit much. He grimaced, distractinghimself with his shopping for the next thirty seconds and initially ignoringthe subsequent message that eventually buzzed through. Finally, though, sheer nerves took over and he pulled up the conversation once again.

Cassian Andor, are you flirting with me?

You sent me a pic of your boobs, Jyn. He felt the need to stress this point. This was on her, shestarted this! 

Touché. So wanna come over, then?

BOOM. He was dead! His head had exploded and he was definitely,100% very, very deceased. 

Do you……mean that in the way I think you mean that?

HEY. I worked hard at that selfie. If I have to go through thehumiliation of accidentally sending it to my study partner, then the least theuniverse could do is also throw some sex in there for meBut um… hey if u want to say no, its chill. Idc its totallyfine no hard feelings

Cassian thought about it for about ten seconds. Then –

I can be there in ten

It was just as he was rushing to throw whatever the hell was leftin his grocery bags into the fridge – honestly, he literally didn’t give a shithow it was organised at this point – when he got another photo. He rubbed hiseyes, groaning a little at the image of Jyn’s body, slightly zoomed out now. Her entire torso and upper legs could be seen and that was how he figured out that her underwear matched thebra.

Hurry up, mate she added. 

If you stop sending me shit like THAT I might Jesus lord

#rebelcaptain #ro fanfic #ro #my fanfiction #tbh this sounds like the premise for a friends with benefits fic #which ngl i kinda want to write #except i've already written friends with benefits like twice now hahahahaha #either way sorry again anon for not being able to do your original prompt #but i hope you liked this!!!! #xoxo