#darcy is now right around 30

[sam24]

Hearts on Ice (2/2)

Series Summary: You absolutely loved shadowing at Dr. Framer's physical therapy clinic. Except for whenever Bucky Barnes, injured star hockey player, came in for his 4:30 appointments. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: Violence, creepy Brock Rumlow

enemies to lovers | college au | athlete bucky

part one

*****

Your mind raced with thoughts as you made your way back to your friends, hoping they wouldn’t notice the change in your mood.

“What happened? What did you say?” Wanda asked excitedly.

“Did you shove him?” Natasha leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

You opened your mouth to tell them that you couldn’t find Bucky, but the tears that started to form in your eyes spoke before you could.

“Oh, honey,” Wanda turned her body to face you, both girls grabbing onto your hands. “Is this a bathroom situation?”

You started to nod, but quickly shook your head. “No, we can’t leave. You wanted to watch Pietro’s game.”

“I can watch my dumb brother play dumb hockey any other day,” Wanda offered you a cheerful smile, holding her hand out.

“It’s Best Friend Bathroom Break!” Natasha tried to brighten the mood as they led you to the bathroom, earning a small chuckle out of you.

“Wow, wonderful alliteration, Shakespeare.” You wiped away tears.

In the bathroom, surrounded by the dull hum of hand dryers and the flushing of toilets, your friends formed a protective circle around you.

Natasha leaned against the sink, crossing her arms. “Alright, spill. What did that idiot do?”

You took a deep breath, recounting the scene with Bucky, the random girl, and his hurtful words. Wanda’s face shifted from concern to an expression of fiery determination, and Natasha’s eyes blazed with anger.

“That dickhead!” Natasha pounded on the sink, earning a couple glances. “Men are just unbelievable. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“He’s clearly still upset about what happened earlier,” Wanda drew soothing patterns on your skin, her voice much quieter than Natasha’s was. “He’s acting like this because he’s hurt, and he’s confused about his feelings. So he’s resorting to his popular hot boy facade. I’m not making any excuses for him, but I want you to understand that he didn’t mean anything he said. Don’t take his words to heart.”

You nodded, appreciating Wanda’s insight. It was a bittersweet realization that perhaps Bucky’s actions were fueled by his own inner turmoil . You chuckled weakly. “Best Friend Bathroom Break is turning into a therapy session.”

“Damn right,” Natasha flipped her hair dramatically. “Now, are we gonna let that asshat ruin your night?”

Wanda nudged you with a comforting smile. “Let’s turn this night around. We’re going to get back out there, enjoy the game, and have a blast at the party afterwards. Screw Bucky and his drama.”

🎕

You gripped Natasha’s arm, hoping she remembered the promise she made in the car to not lose you. As expected, Wanda was long gone, probably giggling somewhere with her British boyfriend, Vision, so you held onto Natasha like a vice.

You had already made accidental eye-contact with Bucky multiple times during the short time you had been here, and you absolutely refused to have Bucky see you alone, confirming his words that you were indeed a loner, so you hung onto your friend like a lifeline.

Natasha, being ever perceptive, flashed you a comforting grin and led you to a group of people standing together. You recognized some of them: Maria, Maria’s girlfriend, Carol Danvers from your humanities class, Jane Foster from writing, and Darcy Lewis from political science.

The group greeted you and Natasha excitedly, and Maria pulled you in for a tight hug. “Sorry I left you with Bucky for so long. My business went a bit into overtime.” She winked at her girlfriend, who pushed Maria with a giggle.

You pretended to throw up all over Maria’s jacket, and Darcy snorted. “Me too, girl. I’ve been stuck watching them grab each others’ asses for the past twenty minutes.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have anyone to grab your ass.” Maria stuck her tongue out at Darcy.

“Quiet, peasant. I don’t allow anyone’s crusty hands anywhere near my scrumptious butt. It’s VIP only.” Darcy crossed her arms over her chest with a playful shove.

“Hey, I’m gonna go find a bathroom, I’ll be right back.” Natasha leaned into your ear.

“Yeah, sure. Want me to come?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I might ‘accidentally’ bump into Steve Rogers on my way there.” She winked at you and you poked annoyingly at her stomach.

“Ooo, someone’s got a cru-ush,” You sang teasingly, but were quickly shut up by a swift kick to the calf.

“Don’t get too lost!” Natasha called over her shoulder as she cat-walked away.

“I could say the same to you!” You called back. As you turned back around to join your friends in their conversation, you noticed Peter Quill in the corner of your eye, waving at you excitedly.

You waved back, a smile tugging at your lips at his childish expressions. You weren’t sure if you had any romantic feelings for him, but he sure would be a fun friend to have.

He beckoned for you to come to him, pointing at Scott and making a face, like I can’t stand this guy, come help me!

You laughed silently as Scott swatted at Peter’s hand, accompanied by a string of passionate-looking words. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go talk to someone real quick.”

“Don’t wander off too far!” Maria warned with a smirk. “Natasha would probably kill me if I lost her best friend.”

“I think I’ll be able to walk across the room just fine, Maria,” You said as you made your way over to Peter and Scott. As you dodged drunk college students and handsy couples, you accidentally bumped into a hard wall of muscle.

You turned around slowly, praying it wasn’t Bucky. It wasn’t. It was Brock Rumlow, who was looking you up and down in a way that made your skin crawl.

Bumping into Bucky would’ve been better.

The very first time you attended a hockey game with Wanda, she was quick to point out Brock on the ice and tell you to stay the hell away from him. Sure, she pointed out Bucky too, but that was just because he was a player. But according to her and Pietro, Brock was just flat out a creep.

“Sorry,” You apologized quickly, turning around in hopes of speed-walking away.

Long fingers grabbed your wrist harshly, forcing you back around. Oh, fuck me.

“Hold on,” Brock smirked evilly, which for some odd reason reminded you of a Disney villain. “I don’t recognize you.”

“Um, okay?” You half expected him to pull out an evil villain scroll to add your name to his hit list.

“You look so stiff, no wonder you’re running into everyone.” He looked you up and down once again, clearly judging the jeans and sweater you had on.

Before you could defend yourself and point out the fact that he was actually the first person you ran into today, he continued talking.

“No drink in your hand, wearing that, running into everyone,” Brock nudged you roughly. “I can tell this is your first party.”

You gave up on correcting him, knowing he would keep yapping. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take you under my wing. Wanna try some of this?” He sloshed the drink around in his cup, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“No, thanks. I don’t really drink.” You shrugged his arm off, taking a step back.You were honestly surprised he actually gave you the chance to speak.

“You don’t drink? And you’re at a college party?” He stepped closer. His breath smelled like stale beer. “Bullshit.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t either,” You shrugged. “Save your kidneys early on.” You shocked yourself with your calm demeanor, especially since your mind was racing and praying that Natasha would randomly show up and tackle this weirdo from behind. Or at least sic her hunky blond crush onto him.

He narrowed his eyes, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as Brock’s predatory gaze intensified. It was evident he wasn’t used to someone rejecting his advances, and the dangerous glint in his eyes sent warning signals through your body.

“Kidneys are overrated anyways,” he replied with a sinister chuckle, his attempt at humor sending a chill through the air. He leaned in closer, close enough for you to cringe at the feel of his beer and Dorito breath on your skin.

The dimly lit room provided little comfort as you gravely realized that absolutely no one was watching. No one cared. Panic surged through you. Despite the people bustling around you, jostling and bumping into you, no one paid any attention.

“C’mon, take a sip.” He raised the cup, his arm snaking around your waist to hold you still.

You writhed around, but his death grip had you firmly planted in place. “Don’t touch me!”

“Stop being lame,” Brock raised the cup to your lips. “Just a sip.”

Your breath caught in your throat and your body went numb.

Just as he started to tilt the cup, you managed to knock it out of his hand with your thrashing. The drink spilled all over his shirt, and his grip on you loosened in surprise. Seizing the opportunity, you quickly pushed yourself away from him. As he reached out to grab you again, you shocked yourself by sending a well-aimed elbow jab straight to his neck.

As he doubled over and held his neck, you kicked him in the balls, earning a painful groan out of him. Yet, the victory was short-lived. As you turned around to get the hell out of there, he stomped down on your foot, and you winced in pain.

He managed to grab your wrist once again, his eyes fiery with rage. “You bitch,” he snarled angrily, spit flying from his mouth.

He tugged at your arm violently, leading you behind him with a bruising grip. You tried to plant your feet firmly in the ground to stop, and he suddenly turned around, leaning dangerously close to your face.

“Stop fighting, sweetheart,” he sneered, grabbing your waist. “The less of a fight you put up now and the easier you make it for me, the nicer I’ll be to you upstairs in bed.”

You slapped him across the face with your free hand. “You’re disgusting.”

He winded his arm back with anger, but suddenly, there was a blur of motion. You were forcefully ripped out of Brock’s clutches, and a large frame was standing between you two, gripping Brock’s collar with white knuckles.

Bucky.

“The hell you think you’re doing, Rumlow?” The rage in his voice was enough to send a shiver through your body. Bucky’s words echoed through the room, and everyone looked over.

Great. Now they wanna look?

Brock smirked, looking weirdly amused despite being stared down by a fuming Bucky Barnes in front of a crowd of people. The atmosphere crackled with tension, a palpable sense of anticipation settling over the room. The music seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the low hum of conversations and gasps.

“I was just having a little fun with the new girl,” Brock replied, his tone insolent. “Sorry man, didn’t realize she was your whore.”

Faster than you could blink, Bucky delivered a swift, bone-rattling punch to Brock’s jaw that sent him stumbling backwards. The room erupted in gasps, cheers, and ‘Do it again, bro!’s as the blow connected with a merciless crack.

Bucky advanced, and you managed to catch a glimpse of his face, seeing a side you’ve never seen of him before.

His face was red with fury, his jaw was clenched with anger, and dangerous emotions danced across his face. The icy blue storm in his eyes brewed violently.

Your body was frozen in place as you watched Bucky throw punches repeatedly onto Brock, who was now on the floor. Bucky climbed on top of him, his giant shoulders covering Brock’s battered up face from your view.

In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Steve Rogers pushing through the crowd, towering over everyone, authority radiating off of him as people cleared his path. He seemed to be the only one brave enough to get in the way of Bucky’s wrath, reaching down to pull his best friend off of a writhing Rumlow.

Wanda and Natasha suddenly appeared on either side of you and each grabbed a hand, tugging you out of your daze.

“Come on honey, let’s go home,” Wanda said gently as the two girls led you to the front door, away from the fight.

“But Bucky-”

“He’ll be okay, just let him cool off,” Natasha reassured you.

You turned your head, catching a glimpse of Bucky thrashing mindlessly in Steve’s steady arms, a string of curses leaving his mouth that would make his mother smack him upside the head. He suddenly caught your gaze on him and he stopped flailing, his expression softening immediately with concern and care.

“Bucky,” you whispered quietly, knowing he wouldn’t have heard you, and you almost swore he whispered your name back.

Before you could succumb to your desire to run up to Bucky and smack him, tell him to stop looking at you like that, throw yourself into his embrace, and kiss him (yes, all in that order), Natasha’s comforting hand on the small of your back brought you back to reality as she led you out the door.

🎕

You glanced at the clock, your foot tapping and hands fidgeting.

4:27. Bucky should be here for his appointment in 3 minutes, assuming he was on time (which he usually wasn’t). You hoped his doctor had suddenly surprised him with a ‘Congrats! You don’t need physical therapy anymore!’ sometime earlier this week.

“Mr. Barnes will be here soon,” Dr. Framer said as he walked past you. “Could you go to the storage room and get some of the thicker resistance bands for his exercises while I finish up with Mrs. Davis?”

Thanks for crushing my hopes, Doc.

You obeyed the doctor, heading to the dimly lit storage closet and making a beeline for the resistance bands on the top shelf, but not before kicking a door stopper into the way so you wouldn’t get locked in.

You eyed the brown box on the top shelf, knowing there was no way in hell you were going to reach that. You looked around for help, but the dusty gray stepping stool that had a permanent home in the corner of the closet was nowhere to be found.

Screw it, you thought as you jumped for it, getting close every time but not quite being able to reach it. You hoped no one walked past the storage closet and saw you jumping up and down like a wasted rabbit, but of course, the universe was always against you.

“Need help?”

You spun around to see Bucky Barnes standing in the doorway, looking annoyingly amused. Your eyes immediately flickered down to his bruised up knuckles, and he seemed to notice, hastily shoving them into his pockets.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Bucky, however, didn’t seem to mind your reply, strolling up to where you were standing and casually picking up the box off the shelf, placing it in your arms with a grin.

“Show off,” you grumbled.

The door suddenly shut with a loud slam, and you looked at Bucky in horror.

“Did you move the door stopper?”

“What door stopper?”

You groaned, dropping the box to bury your face in your hands. “Wonderful.”

“Calm down, Drama Queen. My phone’s right he-” Bucky patted his pockets, looking at you sheepishly. “I think I forgot it.”

“And mine’s in my bag,” you groaned.

“It’s fine, let’s just bang on the door. We’re right next to the waiting room anyways. The front desk lady will hear us.”

“Shannon never wears her hearing aids unless someone’s in the waiting room,” You shook your head. “She says everything sounds too annoying.”

“Fuck, no one’s in the waiting room, I just walked past.”

“And Dr. Framer’s finishing up with another patient right now,” you sighed, leaning against the shelf and sliding down onto the floor.

Bucky sat down on the floor next to you, and you pretended to ignore the slight flutter in your heart from the close proximity. Awkward tension filled the room as you both obviously were thinking about the same thing. You had so many things to say, to ask, to express, but nothing came out.

“Who the hell designed this stupid thing?” Bucky gestured towards the door.

“Probably someone with the same IQ level as you.” You caught the slight smile on Bucky’s face as you two fell back into the familiar comfort of arguing, ignoring the questions that were bound to be asked.

“Yeah sure, let’s see who’s still laughing once I break down this door with my athletic prowess and save the day.”

“How about we dial down on the heroic acts, superman.” You immediately regretted the words once they left your mouth. Bucky seemed to catch on to your unintentional reference to his fight with Rumlow. Tension filled the air once again, and you wanted to kick yourself.

“We, uh, should probably talk about that-” Bucky nervously rubbed his neck.

“I heard you and that girl talking after I left concessions,” you blurted out, unable to stop the word vomit.

Bucky grimaced, and you watched his eyes fill with guilt. “Yeah, I knew that would come back to bite me.”

“Care to explain, Barnes?” You looked over at him. “I honestly thought we were kind of getting along, but then you randomly got all pressed when Peter and Scott came in, and then you called me a nerd with no friends.”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, the regret clear on his face. “Look, when that Quill guy came along and started flirting with you, I got . . . jealous.”

“Jealous?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Why? We aren’t even, uh, a thing.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been good with this stuff.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking down. “Seeing you with someone else just got under my skin, I guess. I saw you smiling at him and laughing at his jokes, and it got me all messed up. I wanted you to look at me the way you were looking at him.”

“Oh.” You were quiet for a bit. “What about with that girl?”

Bucky winced. “I was . . . saving face, I guess? I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was bothered by the Quill thing, so I pretended like I didn’t care.” He took a deep breath, turning to look you in the eye. Sunlight streaming from the small window in the corner danced on Bucky’s face with elegance, showing you something you’ve never seen on his face before.

Vulnerability.

“After I saw you and Quill, I guess I was just really upset, insecure, and confused about my own feelings for you, so I basically ran to someone else. And the first person I saw happened to be Dot. I just needed to feel wanted, you know? Like a sense of validation.”

You nodded slowly. “Look, Bucky, I get it. Emotions can be messy, and we don’t always make the best decision when we’re upset. But honesty goes a long way. You should've told me instead of running away. I had no idea what was going on inside your head.”

“I know.” Bucky looked ashamed as he fiddled with his fingers, his eyes trained down.

“But I’m really glad that you’re telling me this now.” You took his hand gently, an unfamiliar feeling rushing over you. It was the feeling of being able to do everything without fear when Bucky was by your side. His warm hand in yours was comforting, a connection that reassured you in ways words couldn’t express.

He scooted closer with a warm smile as you two settled into a comfortable silence, the low hum of the air conditioning being the only noise in the background.

“Look, Steve sat me down this weekend and knocked some sense into me. Then he called me Ma, and she knocked some sense into me too. I’ve been an idiot, but I’m working on it, for what it’s worth.”

Your eyes met his, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Well it’s a good thing Steve has some sense to spare. I appreciate the effort, Bucky.”

“Yeah, he’s got plenty to go around,” he chuckled, his thumb rubbing gently across the back of your hand. “I want you to know that I really care about you. I want to make things right.”

As a smile spread across your face, he continued. “I don’t want you to think that I take you for granted. You mean a lot to me, and I want to be better. For you.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “You mean a lot to me, too, Bucky. More than I ever realized.”

“I thought you hated me,” Bucky teased with a smirk.

“I thought so too.” You sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll have to get rid of my ‘How to Handle Bucky Barnes: The Irritating Assshat’ survival handbook now.”

“Impressive. Does it come with a ‘How to Handle my Irritating Crush on Bucky’ chapter?”

“That’s a work in progress.” You smirked. “Didn’t exactly expect to find myself having a heart-to-heart with you in a dusty closet.”

“Life’s full of surprises,” he remarked, a deep warmth in his eyes.

“And you, James Buchanan Barnes, are the most unexpected one,” you admitted, your tone softening.

“You stalker,” he gasped accusingly. “Digging through patient files to find my full name?”

“Oh biscuits,” you rolled your eyes. “Looks like you caught me.”

“If you wanted me that bad, you could’ve just asked, Doc.”

“I’ll be sure to add that lovely advice to the handbook. How does this sound: ‘Hey Bucky, I’ve secretly been harboring feelings for you. Wanna go make out in the storage closet?’ .”

“I’m pretty sure I would’ve appreciated the honesty,” he laughed.

“You’re impossible.”

“You love it.”

“Debatable.”

“I think you meant to say dateable.”

“You're pushing your luck, Barnes.” You nudged him playfully.

“Admit it. I’m growing on you.”

“Like a stubborn weed.”

“A weed you secretly enjoy having around.”

You feigned annoyance, but the giddy feelings in your chest told a different story. “Don’t get too comfortable, Barnes. You’ve still got a long way to win me over completely.”

“Challenge accepted.” He leaned his back against the shelf with a content sigh, smiling with closed eyes. After a moment of silence, Bucky scooted even closer, pressing his warm body against yours.

He grinned bashfully. “You’ve probably figured this out by now, but I really like you, Doc. Like I really really like you. Talking to you just feels so natural, you know? I feel . . . fuck I’m trash with words.” Bucky took a deep breath. “I feel at home. With you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You feel at home when I’m being mean to you?”

Bucky chuckled, the sound echoing in the cramped space. “It’s like . . . I don’t know, you challenge me. Keep me on my toes. But it’s not just that. It’s the way you are, the way you see things. I feel like I can be myself around you, no pretenses. Plus, I know you’ll call out all my bullshit. Like my mom and Steve.”

“That’s a tough crowd to be compared to,” you teased, feeling a pleasant warmth in your chest.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but you belong up there with them.”

You smiled, resting your head on Bucky’s shoulder. “I like you too, Barnes. Even though you annoy the crap out of me.”

Bucky laughed heartily. “Scout’s honor. You look so cute when you’re annoyed.” He gently raised your chin with his hands, dipping his head down to look you in the eyes. “All that fuckboy bullshit? I’m tired of it, baby. I only want you.”

“Are you sure you wanna be stuck with the bland vanilla, Barnes? Too late, no take backs.” You teased him playfully, ignoring the rapid beating of your heart.

“You’re more than just bland vanilla,” Bucky frowned, thinking. “You’re . . . spicy pistachio.”

You snorted at Bucky’s unexpected description. “Spicy pistachio? Is that your attempt at a compliment?”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Absolutely. It means you’re a rare and exciting flavor, something I didn’t know I needed until I tried.”

“Well I’m glad you’re such a fan of spicy pistachio, Barnes.”

“The biggest fan.” He looked at you with such gentle care, you thought you would melt under his gaze.

You shoved his shoulder roughly, averting yourself from his deep stare.

“What was that for?” He feigned a wince, just to give you some satisfaction.

“On behalf of Nat.” You just had to make sure you got the shove out of the way before your brain completely surrendered to his sweet talk.

He just smiled knowingly.

You couldn't help but glance down at his roughed-up knuckles, and guilt flooded through you. Bucky noticed, lifting your chin up once again with his gentle touch. The reassurance in his eyes said it all: Don't worry about it, baby.

“I never said thank you for what you did at the party last week.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said as he leaned in closer. “Just doing my job.”

“Your job?” You raised your eyebrows. “And what job might that be?”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Guardian of the spicy pistachio, of course.”

You laughed, your cheeks suddenly heating up when you realized how close Bucky’s face was to yours. He came in closer, if that was even possible, his eyes gazing into yours with deep admiration.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Only I can get you so riled up,” Bucky smirked. “It’s truly a gift.”

“Yeah,” your voice got quiet. You forgot the snarky reply you were about to retort back with. “Only you.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips.

“The spiked fruit punch at your party sucked,” you added as your brain malfunctioned. “It made Wanda sick.”

Bucky leaned closer. “Noted. I’ll let Thor know.”

“You should really consider investing in some Febreze. The whole place smelled like sweat.”

“Noted. I’ll tell Steve.” He leaned in a bit more, his lips almost brushing against yours.

Amidst the closeness, you couldn’t help but let out more observations as your mind raced. “Also, your playlist needs a serious upgrade. I think I heard ‘Eye of the Tiger’ at least three times.”

Bucky brought his hands up to rest on your cheeks, leaning in even closer. “Noted. I’ll tell Sam.”

“Just kiss me already.”

“Noted, baby.” Bucky finally closed the gap between you with a smile as your lips met in a sweet, long-awaited kiss. His soft lips moved gently and his thumbs caressed your cheeks lovingly.

The world outside the closet seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment suspended in time, finally acknowledging the feelings that had been swirling beneath the surface.

As the kiss deepened, you pulled away slightly, a playful glint in your eyes.

“You know, I think this is the most action this storage closet has seen in years. We should charge rent.”

Bucky chuckled against your lips, “In that case, we should give it a good show. You know, make the experience worth its money.”

Bucky pulled you into another kiss, his laughter merging into the warmth of the moment.

The door suddenly opened, light entering the dark closet as you and Bucky pulled apart frantically, scrambling for excuses. Dr. Framer was standing in the doorway with multiple emotions changing on his face. First surprise, then confusion, then a knowing smile directed at Bucky.

“You know, I could always tell you had a crush on her.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #college au #athletebucky #marvel fanfiction #protective bucky barnes

[soothinglee]

intoxicated romance in paris

summary: after taras party, everyone left leaving you drunk and very sleepy, luckily someone came in to check on you on a beautiful night in paris.

warnings: mentions of being sick, drunk-heavy-ish fic.

authors note: sorry i've been gone for a little bit, school started and ive been busy- plus i've had little motivation. but i am back! i have another tao request coming up so hopefully i'll have that done by the weekend. requests are open!ಇ

inspiration: impossible - wasia project | time machine - willow

pairing: tao xu x reader (no pronouns specified. though reader is mentioned to go to higgs.)

masterlist | request

you could honestly kill darcy right now. it’s not like she did anything intentionally illegal but stealing a bottle of vodka and pouring it down each party goers throat; it catered to the massive headache stirring in your head.

everyone had departed to mr. ajays room to take care of her after she felt sick. you lay limp and alone in the hotel room. party streamers and confetti lie around your body like an outline, balloon slowly fall to the ground after hours of stillness and lack of oxygen. there was a soft purple glow of the beautiful paris street lights from below, and you can faintly hear the honking of cars on the road- all going to unique locations.

as much as you tried to roll over to check the time on your phone you find yourself still. fatigue from exhaustion creek in your bones, making the nauseous feeling creeping up push forward. at the sudden sickness you throw yourself forward and try to stabilize yourself on the knitted sheets.

behind the thoughts of trying to keep the sick in you didn't even realize that someone had knocked on the door until that person had turned the handle with a click, the noise echoing throughout the empty room.

"hello hello?" the voice called out, growing nearer. when there was no response they speak again, "hello?"

the only response you could give back was a disgruntled grunt.

"[y/n]?" the boys voice questions, rounding the corner of the entrance way to see you hunched over ontop of the bed. you hadn't known but your hair was sticking up in several places and the crocheted sweater that you wore was hanging off your shoulder on one side. he huffs out a laugh and nears you. "you alright?"

again a grunt.

he lays his phone on the nightstand next to the bed and kneels down next to you, "you look sick, did you drink too much?"

"i'm going to hurt darcy, respectfully." the words come out in broken pieces, but behind the words was a little lighthearted humor. deep down you knew she meant well but oh my god this feeling is gross.

"well don't hurt her too much, she already got sick in mr. farouks' bed. the look on his face could've killed her alone." tao shakes his head at the thought and reaches up to smooth down the back of your head. the feeling of his hand on your hair ignited something warm in you.

you decided it was just because you were drunk.

"did she actually?"

"oh yeah," he laughs lightly and goes to fix your clothes, "she looked like she was going to pee herself, he kicked all of them out."

confusion passes over you, "then where are they?" you were still in their rooms and it's been a good 30 minutes since they last were here.

tao hums and picks at his nails, "they decided to have a sleep over in imogens room, she's only with one other person but her roommate wanted to hangout in her friends room for the night."

you nod and look off but then direct your attention back to him, "wait," you watch as he glances at you then diverts his attention back to his hands, "then why are you here?"

as a reminder, tao jerks up and starts throwing around blankets and items on the other nightstand in a haphazard manner, "oh- yeah, well um- tara had asked me to come back and look for her phone because she needed to text her mom goodnight," he then adds a "yeah." at the end as if he's trying to convince himself of his own words.

while you watch him practically destroy the room your face goes blank with realization, "tao." he hums in acknowledgment but his movements don't cease, "taras' phone isn't in here, she took it with her when she left the party with everyone. and even if you called it it would've rang on this bed," you make your point by slamming a finger into the sheets, "because this is where she was sitting all night."

as if being caught red-handed, tao slowly stands up, the pillow falling from his hands slowly, "oh." was the only thing that came out.

pushing past the fatigue you swing your legs over the edge of the bed so your feet was mere inches from his legs, "so tell me the truth," you huffs out a short breath, "why are you really here? was it to check up on me?" you remark sarcastically. you know it's probably not the truth but hope dances on your tongue tastefully.

quite surprisingly, he nods his head. "i knew you were alone so i figured i'd check in, make sure you didn't spit up on yourself or something." in other words, i cared enough to go out of my way away from the others to make sure you weren't dead.

again, another wave of confusion, "but why?"

tao groans playfully and body flops on the bed, his hair splayed out around his head like a halo, "why are you so coherent, you're supposed to be drunk!"

a slurred giggle escapes you, "oh trust me, i feel just as bad as i look. i just didn't have as much as the other." you pause and hiccup, "can i ask another question?"

"[y/n]-? and i mean this lightheartedly, all you do is ask questions." but he makes a gesture with his hands as if to give the go ahead.

you lean in and whisper, "why are you still here?" a playful smile twitches at your lips. he lifts his head up to look at you, his hair falling in his eyes.

tao rolls his eyes and copy's your position, the beds were close to eachother so the two of you were inches from touching knees. he takes a look at you and you cower a little under his gaze, but not too much. tao goes to speak but stops himself, you lightly kick his leg in encouragement, "because i want to be near you."

that nearly winds you- feeling a little appreciation for being intoxicated because without it as a cover the red huge on your cheeks would be a give away.

you look away from him and towards the balcony, the door open to it let a soft breeze float through the room. you suddenly want to be out there. so without a response towards his comment you reach out your arms towards tao and silently point towards the doors.

he seems a little sad at the conversation change but obliges, "what? you want to go outside?"

you nod feeling a little sicker than before, "wanna see the Eiffel Tower." he nods and takes your hands in his, gently hoisting you up into his arms. his warm body heat makes you feel sleepy, and the over whelming feelings all at once doesn't even let you register that you were holding his hands, let alone in his arms.

slowly but surely he turns you around so your back is to his chest and he carries you on his toes to the balcony. it takes a while because every step he takes you loose your balance and have to regain it.

as you take a step outside a wave of fresh dew air hits you and at the feeling you close your eyes and lean back into tao. he chuckles at the action.

being outside at night, being in paris- an unfamiliar but welcoming presence, being with, no, against tao, especially alone for the first time in the 6 years you've been friends, this could be the best night ever.

the feeling is all too sentimental, whether it's the alcohol doing it's damage or being in the city of love you can't help but sigh and look up at tao with big bright eyes. it takes him a moment because like you too, he was watching the city come alive, and as you make eye contact he smiles with hesitancy, "what?"

it had been clear as day for the longest time but for some reason, right here right now, despite what everyone has been telling you, you had liked him too. it just took you now to figure it out. you lean against him once more and let out a deep sigh,

"i like being near you too."

thanks for readingಇ

#x reader #x you #fluff #tao xu x reader #tao xu #heartstopper x reader #heartstopper x you #tao xu x you #heartstopper s2 #venicie #darcy #tara jones #unedited #fanficition #x y/n

[notoriousbeb]

Lighthouse Keeper Tweets

Part Three: February 2024 - May 23, 2024

Back to Part One Back to Part Two

Feb. 5, 2024 (barely) 12 a.m.

"'I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love.'"

Now THIS is interesting. First, this is a Jane Austen quote (from Mr. Darcy of Pride and Prejudice [see 11/28 tweet, as well]). In the book, Darcy goes on to say, "Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away." What Darcy is saying here is that he formerly thought pretty words and declarations were enough to sustain a relationship, but he now knows that's not enough. The underlying bond has to be strong first, or it's all for naught. Interesting. Because, my second point about this post is: this is the date of the Grammy's, and the date Taylor announced The Tortured Poets Department.

Feb. 16, 2024 1:30 a.m. BST

"You don't mess with love, you mess with the truth."

These are lyrics from Ellie Goulding's "On My Mind." Someone can't stop thinking about someone!

Feb. 18, 2024 10:45 p.m. BST

"The dirt on my jeans from the mud on the Heath feels like karma to me"

Perhaps someone is starting to realize he fucked up.

Feb. 23, 2024 4:50 p.m. BST "A tangle on the television and the magazine."

These are lyrics from The Arctic Monkey's Teddy Picker. Perhaps, and this is just a guess by me, obviously, but maybe a shot at TK, who was riding around in a rented sportscar, speeding and blowing red lights in Australia while following Taylor on tour?

Feb. 26, 2024 12 a.m. BST

"I've let love be free, and I've let it go. I've let it fade and I've watched it blow."

Sad.

March 20, 2024 5:35 p.m.

"You go back, Jack, do it again, wheel turnin' ' round and 'round"

These are lyrics from Steely Dan's "Do It Again."

March 22, 2024 1:41 a.m.

"One to remember A spill to reflect on High in your bedroom Will you still remember?"

He mentions in his replies that he's "feeling creatively inspired by the people [he's] surrounded with." Perhaps in the studio? A little poem for someone. Reminds me of the "you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate," line from TTPD song. So, maybe, yeah, she did remember. Gah, these two exhaust me.

March 28, 2024 1:10 a.m. "If you're gonna try and walk on water make sure you wear you comfortable shoes."

These are lyrics from The Arctic Monkey's " Piledriver Waltz. Could be nothing, but it could also be a few things.... Anxiety about the impending TTPD release (thinking about the line "you're gonna shoot me out of a cannon" here). Pics of TK and TS at Nobu that had just popped up where TS looked annoyed as hell. Also there were all those pics of them from their beach vacation. Also, a few minutes before, he'd posted something about the stars, and then deleted it and proceeded to gaslight everyone on his timeline who asked about it. smh.

April 5, 2024 12 a.m. BST

"Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight? Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars? List to the yarn, as my grandmother's father the sailor told it to me?"

This is a bit of the Walt Whitman poem "Song of Myself." Has the tell-tale moon and stars, of course. What is he fighting for, I wonder. And who will win?

April 8, 2024 10:35 p.m. BST

"I looked around then for a reason When there wasn't something more to blame it on But, if time makes a difference while we're gone Tell me now, and I won't be hanging on"

These are lyrics from The Eagles' "Train Leaves Here This Morning." Maybe feeling defeated? He's about to leave to go to Japan with TR. When someone mentions in replies that this isn't a happy song (it's not. it's about one of the band members going through a divorce), LK replies: "Or, you could see it as a gateway to happiness. Sometimes the path to joy needs some pruning, and leaving things behind." Then someone else replies, "This is how it has to be though, right?" And LK responds, "I mean... no? Nothing really has to be anything; new things wash up on the shore, seasons pass, gardens flourish and die. Life is ever fluctuating. But also, it's just a great Eagles song." That's some true blue Aquarius shit right there. LOL. Another tidbit from the replies, he likes "Idaho" and "Words" by Gregory Alan Isakov.

April 12, 2024 8:30 p.m. BST / 4:30 a.m. JST

"Take a second, take a minute, take a mile Run the routes, light it up, enjoy the highs"

Probably in Japan?

April 19, 2024 12:31 p.m. BST

"Certified member of The Tortured Poets Department now."

And so it begins, again. Comments in the replies that he's feeling "tortured and poetic." Says he can't pick a favorite track yet.

April 25, 2024 7 p.m. BST

"I won't sit here and wax poetic to try and untangle the way we've crossed each other's firing range"

Sure, Jan. In his replies, he says he's currently inspired by "my life, my fears, my loves, my losses, in no particular order." Also says his current favorite TTPD track, "Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus" "has [his] heart."

April 26, 2024 12:35 a.m. BST

"Love is no more Than the wide blossom which the wind assails, Than the great tide that treads the shifting shore, strewing fresh wreckage gathered in the gales"

Already wrote about this here. My dude here is IN IT. He sarcastically says he's feeling "dazzling," and when asked who he's dancing with he replies, "Myself, my closet skeletons, and my wandering mind!" Cool night, LK. Sounds like a blast!

April 29, 2024 10:55 p.m. BST

"I used your old toothbrush to clean out my keep cup I suppose that's the way things are right now"

A keep up. So, who's toothbrush we talking about here?

April 30, 2024 1:01 a.m. "What are our vices for today?"

I've already posted about how very, very well he's doing.

May 3, 2024 12:30 a.m. "When the garden leaves blow and you jump out your skin once the shock starts to go that's when solitude sets in"

Already posted about this one, too. Tayrry no more?

May 9, 2024 10:40 p.m. BST

"I should think most of my problems are solvable by feeling the sun's warmth and the sparkle of the stars."

He did pop up in a couple spots in London (a cab, dinner and the ballet) the next day with a nice tan! I'd hoped he'd been to Paris, but it was overcast and not very warm there. Maybe he was just laying out in the Heath taking it easy (and maybe texting someone??). In his replies, he seems in quite a good mood and talks about getting high to write. He also replies to a commenter who asked, "Are you watching TTPD livestream from Paris?" LK said, "I had hoped she would come to Eroda. Granted, it would be a lot more intimate than she's used to..." Cheeky, bugger.

May 17, 2024 3:25 p.m. BST

"Would you be angry? At the cruelty of history Fading away the stories we penned For slamming the dot at the end.

Here's how I interpret this: LK is asking the muse, would you be angry at history if it decided this was it for us? If this was where it decided our story ended? In his replies, LK also mentions he’s been doing some “embroidery.” This reminds me of the line in “loml,” “we embroidered the time of when I was away, stitching ‘we were just kids, babe.’” Perhaps LK is musing about memories today. He also says in response to the question “May I ask you what you would change about your past, what do you like about your present and what would you like get in your future?” “I guess there's not much point in thinking about changing the past, and I love the love I have right now, and in the future l'd like to keep that love.” In Haylor news, rumors are that Tayrry has split. Taylor is about to play night one in Stockholm after spending time with TK in Italy and Harry is unseen (rumor is he's out of London doing a photoshoot--perhaps for HS4, I hope!).

May 19, 2023

May 23, 2023

#haylor #lighthouse keeper #erodas lighthouse

[stonemags]

SUGAR BABY AU

Ch.3 Blind optimism

Characters in this series: Reader, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Carol Danvers, Darcy Lewis, Maria Hill, Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts, Valkyrie, Shuri

Summary: The one where you’re forced to socialize, your favourite mug is held hostage, and you just can’t see eye to eye with Darcy.

Warnings: age gap relationships, sugar mommy/sugar baby relationships, swearing, aggression, cheating, all story is gonna be +18, you are responsible for your own ass. 

Word count: 6174

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my beloved friend, legend, amazing hair cut girl, bike riding icon, and the best horse trainer in this world. You are the kill leader of my life, and I love you a lot. It's a little early, but happy incredible birthday!

Thanks to @charturnus for editing, helping to write and posting this fic.

Previous chapter

CHAPTER 3

“Can I help you?”

 Soft and soothing, that's the way you would describe her voice if anyone would ask, but nobody did, so let's move on. You try to find anything to say that would take you out of this “deer caught in the headlights” moment, not daring to take more time to let the silence linger. You straighten out your posture trying to physically take up more space, trying to show any ounce of confidence in this really not confidence allowing, environment that your day created for you. 

“Actually yes. Would you like to talk about our lord and saviour Jesus Christ? The one and only, who can save us from the pits of hell that humanity is running into with this whole LGBT propaganda, women trying to have rights, not being chained to the kitchen madness.” She looks confused which gives you the upper hand, at least that's what you think until she gives you this cocky but proud smile which catches you off guard, and now you are the confused one. 

“You must be y/n. It's really nice to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it.” She takes a step back to let you into your own apartment and sticks her hand out towards you to get an actual greeting. You go in and take off your shoes, only using your heel and toes for it. You don't put the bags down, and you don't engage in the physical contact that the redhead is waiting for. You look up at her, and you appreciate the much better lighting than the one in the café, because right now you can actually see the depth in the colour of her eyes. You’ve never seen eyes like that, and it's deeply interesting. As much as you want to go into this, inside of your head, on an intellectual journey about why people have different eye colours and if their lifestyle can change the outcome of that colour. But it’s not the space or time for that, so you force yourself back into the present, to the woman standing with her hand outstretched. 

“Yeah it's me. And all day I was looking forward to getting a shower, so excuse me.” You don't even give her a chance to respond as you move swiftly around her and disappear deeper into the apartment, quickly walking into your room. You feel a little bit awkward and embarrassed, but your priority is your mental state right now, and you need to wash the day off of your body. 

After putting everything in place and taking a shower which took you around 30 minutes, because you are not trying to get Darcy mad, she is terrifying when she is mad, you pull some outfit together and go to the living room where you hear everybody chatting. Classic loose mom jeans and a sentimental flannel fit you nicely, not showing too much of your skin, but still not making you a nun. 

As you walk in, you throw a loud “hi guys,” in the direction of the sitting area, and go straight to the kitchen which is connected to the living room by the island. Maria immediately stands up to hug you, and she’s never too shy to show care through physical touch. It makes a lot of sense since it's her love language.

You hug her back with just as much force as she does, and as she is going back to where she was sitting, you take a non-alcoholic cold beer out of the fridge. 

“We have wine if you are interested.”  This voice is also new to you, but this one is a little bit deeper. It's flowing through the room and if you wouldn't have any control over yourself, like your flatmates, you would probably have goosebumps all over your body. 

“She doesn't drink, this bitch is in the sober club.” Darcy answers for you, clearly a little bit pissed that you didn't say hi before the shower, but you hear the little hint of teasing in her voice. 

“That's interesting. Why?” Another new voice makes you turn around and lean on the kitchen island. Just then, you take in the whole picture in front of you. The biggest couch is occupied by Carol and Darcy sitting between her legs. Carol's hand is intertwined with your friend's and as much as you will never admit it, the lovesick look on your friend's face is making you really happy and glad that she found someone like Carol. In the big chair on your right there is a new figure, a really elegant woman you have never met before, but in some way her face is familiar. Her strawberry blonde hair is put into a tight ponytail, and it makes her features look really sharp. Her business outfit brings out the seriousness in her, but a fancy, colourful drink with a big piece of grapefruit levels it out to a neutral position. She has a hard demeanour with a really warm, friendly smile. You are aware that on the left side of the room, on a smaller couch, sits Maria with the two women you recognize from the café. Without making direct eye contact with them, in the corner of your eye you can say that your flatmate is throwing herself at them, which they don't seem to mind. The woman that greeted you at the door is on her left with her hand in Maria's hair, the woman on her right is less shy, freely grabbing her exposed thigh. You are pretty sure that they both are looking straight at you, but you are putting your attention to answer the question. You hop smoothly onto the kitchen counter and lean back for the beer glass. Taking a long sip, you think of an answer while looking at the woman in the chair. 

“What’s interesting is the fact that people always ask why I don’t drink. I mean, if I were to tell you that I don't eat carrots nobody would question it, but as soon as it's about the alcohol people ask why. Social constructs, I guess. But about why, I was diagnosed with ADHD at the beginning of the year.” You casually explain. 

“And you can’t drink while you take your medication?” The same deep voice turns your attention to the left. They seem to be really interested in what you're saying. Their focus on you is razor sharp. 

“I can and I did. I mean, you probably shouldn’t and my psychiatrist doesn't recommend it, even if I didn't have any bad reactions to drinking. It was a good enough excuse for me to stop. I don't enjoy getting drunk either way, and since I'm always sober, I can at least be the DD.” She seems confused, but Carol makes sure to fill her in as soon as you are done talking.

“Designated driver. One person always agrees to not drink, so everybody can get home safely.” Redhead nods in acknowledgement, and Carol lets go of Darcy to allow her to stand up to refill their drinks. 

“Did you bring the whisky?” It's Darcy's favourite kind and the only thing she orders while visiting you at work. You have to admit that it's a really nice 12-year-old blended, scotch whisky, and the only thing you miss since you stopped drinking. Without answering her, you jump off the counter and leave the living room to grab two bottles from your room. As you bring them back, she already prepared glasses for everybody to try. While she fills them up, she starts speaking.

“Y/n this is Pepper, Pepper Stark. She is the CEO of Stark tech company. She is also in the middle of writing an incredible book.” She introduces you as she hands the drink to the woman on the chair. Her name gives you an idea of why she seems familiar. Tony Stark teaches at your ex's university. You heard so much about him that you feel like you were attending his course yourself. Cold but creative, a leader but a dickhead, the list goes on and on. Adding up all you know from Shuri and other students, you can assume why she divorced this talented bastard. The news made it out to be a massive deal when she overtook his company. But Stark tech has never been better than under her leadership. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n.”

“Likewise.” You nod at her from a distance. You have a lot of respect for powerful, successful women. 

“This is Natasha and this is Wanda.” They don't bother standing up, so you don't move from your position waiting for Darcy to give you more information. 

“They are the co-owners of a law company. Wanda is an amazing lawyer with a Smith Award and Natasha is a CFP designated financial adviser.” You nod at them, completely unamused. 

“That's impressive.” It’s not. “ Nice to meet you both, I’m y/n.” 

“I think we already know each other, sugar.” Natasha says, and you can't help but be curious about where she finds the audacity. Her eyes are fixated on you while her hand stays on Maria’s thigh, but travels a little bit higher. You can't help but watch and think to yourself…. What the fuck. This whole situation is rather weird, but your roommate definitely enjoys the attention. You on the other hand feel like they both are trying to dominate you, and you are about to put it to stop, but before you can say anything, Wanda is already speaking. 

“We hope you enjoyed your cold brew. I bet it felt nice to not have to pay for your own coffee for once.” You don't even need a second to think. You grab your wallet from your back pocket, take out a 20 dollar bill and put it on the coffee table in front of Wanda, all without taking your eyes off of her. 

''You can keep the change.” This definitely pulls a reaction out of your friends. They know how much you work and how much you are struggling with finances. Trying to earn money to publish your poetry and to stop worrying about staying afloat every single month. You return to your place next to the kitchen island, not paying attention to Wanda’s or Natasha’s reaction. 

''y/n that’s not what she-'' Darcy starts speaking but is soon cut off by Wanda defending her motive. 

''That's not what I meant, baby.” Honestly, what is it with strangers and pet names? They see you for the first time and definitely feel too comfortable with their approach. 

“With all due respect, I went there just to support my friend, to watch over her in case it turns out that both of you are some creepy, thirsty, questionable individuals. I didn’t ask you to pay for it.'' 

“They were trying to be nice, y/n. That's it. Calm down.” Maria tries to settle you down, feeling uneasy in this situation. 

“Well in that case I really appreciate it. Please don’t do it ever again, thank you.” This situation is straight out of some Bruce Wayne shit. 

“Y/n! Are you okay?” The room went weirdly silent. Yes, you got a little bit heated, but you weren't even yelling or arguing. 

“Yeah. Why?” Darcy is on her feet immediately, same as Wanda. That confuses you even more. 

“You’re bleeding.” The redhead stands right in front of you with those green big eyes and all you think about is getting out of her reach. Just then, you look down, and your beer is stained red. Your hand travels immediately to your nose, finding out that you have a full on nose bleed. 

“Shit. Yeah, I'm okay just, shit… just give me a second.” You say quickly and if the whole attention wasn’t on you, people would’ve miss what you said. Someone goes after you, you can feel the presence behind you. 

“Fuck.” Just as you see yourself in the mirror, you get an idea of why their reaction was as big. Blood is literally dripping from your nose, it's not a light one either. As you lean above the sink trying to use cold water to minimize the damage, you hear the voice behind you. 

“Let me help. You have to-” 

“No, thanks, I got this.” Wanda won't let go that easily. 

“Baby, I'm just trying-” 

“Do you use nicknames on all strangers you meet?” You can't help but bite back, it makes you feel uncomfortable. She ignores your question and tries to move your flannel out of the back of your neck. You jump at her touch, not in a good way. Her hand is cold from the drink she was holding, and she is too close to you. 

“I don’t need your help.” Your hand is red, half of the sink stained, and the blood doesn't seem to stop coming any time soon. Before she can try to make a move one more time, the bathroom door opens with force. 

“Sit your ass down, and pinch your nose right above your nostrils.” Darcy is stern in her voice and right when you think about telling her off she continues. 

“I'm not going to tell you twice. Sit your ass down, or I'm going to yell for Carol, and she is going to make you.” You look at her in the mirror in front of you. She stands tall, arms crossed at her chest, while she is holding something green in one hand. Wanda is still in the bathroom with both of you, she looks surprisingly concerned about this whole situation. Darcy is not backing down and for your own sake you are sitting down on the toilet cover. 

“Always so fucking stubborn. Hold this.” A bag of frozen peas lands on the back of your neck, almost making you jump. 

“I got this.” Wanda chimes in and as you are about to argue, Darcy's look makes you stop. Coldness travels down your spine and your head feels light because of the blood loss. It happens often, but not as bad as this one. Your friend leaves, and as you are left with Wanda, all you want is to avoid unnecessary conversations. 

“Does it happen often?” Seems like you can't avoid it. 

“No.” 

“Darcy says it does.” 

“Then why do you ask?” For just a second she looks sad, and you realize that you act a little bitchy. 

“Sorry, it's just annoying.”

“It's okay, thank you for apologizing. Your friends say that you overwork yourself a lot. Is that the reason it's happening?”

“No. No, it's not.” 

“Then what is it? Her concern seems fake, or needed as a social expectation of the situation. You don't know why, but it makes you feel sick, or maybe it's the headache that's coming.

“Cocaine.” By her expression you can see that she is shocked but tries to be as casual about it as she can. 

“She’s kidding.” Darcy is no fun. She returns to your side and kneels in front of you, taking your head into her hands. As she makes sure you are okay, she tells Wanda to take off the bag, and you are surprised when you feel her drying your skin with a towel, after the ice melted. 

“Go lie down. And no working y/n. No essays, no school, no working. I mean it.” You laugh at her and thank both of them for help. After cleaning yourself up, you don't bother going to the living room anymore, and you disappear in your sheets. 

You wake up some time later with a full on headache. Naps are the worst thing that can happen. You never felt good after taking one. You put on a jumper and take a look at the time. It's dark outside and the clock shows 1am. You couldn't be more grateful for that. If that was 4am, you probably wouldn't go to sleep anymore. Since it's relatively early, you can still catch a couple of hours of sleep. Priority now is taking care of your headache.

The apartment is really quiet. As you move smoothly through the hall, you pay attention to the shoes mess at the entrance. Pepper is not here, but it seems as though Carol and two redheads are still in your apartment. Also, Kate still isn't back. Her room is open and as much as you would love to spare her the pain of the conversation that awaits, it's killing you that she still isn't aware of what happened. Even the worst of the truths is better than lying. 

It’s dark, soft light comes from your bedroom behind you and the living room in front of you. Darcy's doors are closed, which means that Carol is probably staying the night, it's not unusual. You just don't understand why they would stay here when they have like five other houses to choose from. You are surprised to see the living room occupied. On one of the stools, you can see Wanda finishing up a glass of red wine. Her lips are a little bit stained because of it, and the soft light coming from the candle brightens up her face, bringing out all the features. Her jaw looks really sharp, and you can't help but think that rich people definitely put too much money into fixing up unimportant things about them. It would be amazing if that kind of operation would work on personalities too. As soon as she sees you, she puts down her glass and straightens her posture, probably trying to dominate you. It's too late for that, and you are too tired to play her game, so you don't acknowledge her presence. 

“How are you feeling, y/n?” She asks as you enter the kitchen to fish inside the cabinet for your favourite tea and your mug. You stay silent, trying to pretend that you didn't hear her worried voice, flowing through the empty kitchen. 

“Y/n?” She tries again, her voice is softer now as you are about to run away. She thinks you are weak. At least that's what you are telling yourself. 

“I feel thirsty.” You search the inside of the cabinet trying to navigate through a million types of cups, mugs and glasses, thinking why do you need so many. You hear her subtle laughter, and god nobody made you that confused with their reactions, confused and annoyed. You swear under your breath, not finding your favourite green mug in the place it should be. The dishwasher is open and empty, and all you can think of is searching the house to find your comfort object. It's a gift from your brother, and everybody knows not to touch it, so who in the hell would-  it's like a lightbulb being turned on above your head. You turn around with so much power, scanning the surroundings in front of you. You spot your mug standing next to Wanda, and she catches that.

“Oh, that's what you’re looking for?” She makes it sounds like a question, but her smirk is nothing else but an invitation to her game, in which you are not planning to participate. As you let out a loud sigh, you go around the kitchen island to grab it. At the same time she turns around on the chair following your movement. You are not going to ask for it back, just as she didn't ask if she can use it. Is it normal for people like them to just take what they want? 

“Oh, you want it?” Honestly, you can help but think, “is she dumb?”.

“No, actually I came over to leave it where it is, I just wanted to see it up close.” Sarcasm is dripping from every word you say. Your sentence is coated in it hoping that she will get the message. 

“It or me?” 

“Oh get over yourself” You reach to her left, the mug is almost in your hand, but she is faster. She snatches it into her hand, drinks the rest of the water she had in it, and lifts it up to have it out of your reach. 

“Why would I? I enjoy it too much.” Your eyes are fixated on hers, the green colour sparkles with golden flakes in dimmed light. Her left hand keeps her stable by holding the counter. Your eyes are going lower, following the movement of her body. Her jacket falls lightly to the sides as she opens her legs in front of you. She wants you to reach for it. It feels like you have to work for your own property. 

“Of course you do. Does the lack of manners come in a rich, self-indulgent package?” It seems like she is too mighty to have people talking to her that way. As much as you adore Carol, her friends are not your favourite kind of people. While she takes a second to react to the boldness of your statement, you use this moment to your advantage. You grab her free wrist and pull it into your direction, causing her to lose balance and fall forward. To avoid an actual fall, she grabs anything to regain control, and the closest thing to her is you. Her hand falls right onto your waist. As being just in your pyjamas, a basic t-shirt is not helpful when her cold palm digs into your side. The whole situation takes like 5 seconds, and you can't react fast enough to get out of her grip. You find yourself in an awkward position. Her face is too close to yours, as she gasps you can feel her breath on your skin. It's also cold, you assume it's because of the wine she was just drinking. It has to be an expensive kind, too, because you can't smell sulphur in her breath. Instead of actually letting you go, she seems to fight herself not to bring you closer. You can't figure out what kind of game she is playing, but you refuse to give her the upper hand in whatever this is. You get closer to her, your lips barely inches apart, her breath hitches, and before she can make any move she hears you whisper.

“Let me go.” The realization of what she is doing comes on her really fast, and she looks almost scared. The proximity of your bodies allows you to grab the mug at the last second and as she lets you go, you return to the kettle. You notice that the air in the room feels thick, so you make a mental note of opening a window before returning to your room. Trying to salvage your grip on the situation, you decide to change the topic, not mentioning that you are already convincing yourself that nothing happened.

“So!” That brings her attention towards you. The steaming green mug in your hand feels like a trophy. 

“Where's your wife?” You take a sip, trying to sound natural and casual. It's after 1am, and you are in the kitchen, with a stranger, wearing a t- shirt and underwear as your pyjamas, after the two of you were in a really uncomfortable position. Bringing her wife up right this moment feels like an excellent idea. 

“How do you know she's my wife? Maybe we are just partners.” The glass of wine returns to her hand, and you have to admit that it suits her. 

“Your ring. Both of you have matching ones, yours was corrected into a smaller size, family heirloom I assume.” Wanda looks like she waits for you to continue, so you do. 

“It's 2 different kinds of gold. The original one is warmer, more coppery and less yellow in tone, it's called Hamilton Gold. When you had it resized, they used a different kind of gold for soldering.” For a second, she looks down at her own hand, and she doesn't look back up at you before taking another sip of her wine. When her eyes meet yours, the only thing you can read in them is amazement. 

“Oh, don't look at me like that. I have hobbies.”

“It's surprising that you have time for hobbies. You know, with your schedule.”

“Careful, you’re making it sound like you think you actually know me.” It seems like on every corner of the conversations you have something new for her. You are brutally honest, sarcastic, even rude sometimes and too stubborn for her liking. 

“You don't like me, do you?” Before you have a chance to even think about an answer, your conversation is interrupted by the other redhead. 

“Hi rodnaya. Sorry it took so long. I just need a glass of water, and then we can go.” Natasha comes up to her wife and kisses her on the cheek. Wanda smiles at that immediately, and you are trying to read them. They seem happy, what would they even look for anything else, are they playing a part in front of you? Or maybe they are just bored in life? You take in the view in front of you. Wanda's lips are even more stained than before, and it seems like Natasha got an imprint of that from her kiss. Just a second ago, you were just as close with her wife, it doesn't feel right. A shiver goes down your spine, but you decide to have this mental fight later. Natasha is a little bit taller than Wanda. Their eyes are similar in colour but have completely different natures. It reminds you of a lake and the ocean, both blue but at the same time totally different. Their hair colour is also different, and Nat’s hair is shorter than her wife’s. As you take your eyes off of their faces, you realize that her outfit that was so well put together before, is absolutely ruined. Her shirt is wrinkled, you are pretty sure that her fly is open, and her pants seem to have been put on in a hurry. You thought about possible reasons for it and, God, you wish you didn't. Maria likes to have fun, and she for sure wouldn't pass on this kind of opportunity. Before creating unwanted images in your head, Wanda’s voice takes you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, don't worry, I had a glass of wine and amazing company.” By the last bit, they are both looking at you. It's two versus one, and you don't like those odds. 

“Well, I'm glad you did. Thank you, y/n, for taking care of my girl.” 

“No worries, there are just a hundred other things I would rather be doing.” It's late, you are tired, and low on blood. These are perfect conditions for bitchiness. Luckily, they are not asking more and not picking up the topic. As Wanda finishes her wine and sends a fast text on her phone, you are getting ready to go back to bed. You are stopped in your tracks by a hand reaching into your direction. 

“Here. If you ever have more gold fun facts or feel the need to talk about our lord and saviour, call us.” A nicely printed business card contains Wanda’s and Natasha’s names, followed by two phone numbers. You look at her with a fake, softish smile.

“I’ll call you, if I ever need a lawyer. Thank you.” You nod at her and Natasha and while feeling their eyes on you, you throw the card into the bin. Your methods might be a little brutal, but they never fail when it comes to people leaving you alone. You expect them to look disappointed, maybe even mad. Some little comment about how disrespectful you are, a much too loud scoff, precisely loud for you to hear. You can't read them, and it's infuriating, you don't feel safe. Wanda smiles at you, showing a little dimple on her left side. She hands something to her wife and as Natasha takes it from her hand she sends you a smirk and puts another business card down on the counter.  The sound of closing doors makes all of you turn into the direction of Darcy's room. Carol looks like she was almost asleep, being woken up at an ungodly hour. 

“I got your text, are you guys ready?” The question is thrown in the general direction of the living room. The two redheads are on their feet immediately collecting their belongings. Carol looks at you and sends you a warm smile. 

“You look better y/n. Keep your nose bleeds in check, Darcy is really worried about you.”

“Aye, aye captain.” Since your best friend told you about her partner's favourite title, you have been smoothly using it to throw Carol off. It seems to work, as she always puts her hands into fists, taking a couple of deep breaths. 

“It was lovely to meet you, y/n.” Wanda is sweet in her voice, still having this curious look while studying your face. 

“It really was. See you around, sugar.” Natasha is more cocky, and it doesn't look as good on her as she thinks. 

As the apartment loosen up and gets more quiet, you want to take a couple extra minutes to unwind after everything, just sitting on the couch and taking in the view from the big windows. 

“You’re still awake.” Darcy is up, and she is the only person whose presence you don't mind right now, or ever. 

“Yeah, you know how naps work on me. I thought you were asleep.” She sits next to you and steals your mug. Taking a long sip of lightly warm tea, she puts her head on your rough shoulder. You adjust your body to make it more comfortable for the both of you. 

“I almost was, but Carol has some meetings in the morning, and she had to go.” You only nod in understanding, and the room is filled by comfortable silence. This is something that you were only able to build up with Darcy. Complete trust towards each other and the whole truth between the two of you, without actually having to say a word. It takes time, and effort, but you are always willing to put in more, but it doesn't mean that you don't fight. 

''What do you think about what happened?'' Her question takes you by surprise and only after giving it a couple of seconds thought, do you get what she is asking about.

“You didn't tell me that the date was with two women.”

“Does it matter?” 

“It would if I had to take them out. You know, they could always turn out as some creeps.”

“They aren’t.” Darcy sounds serious, and it throws you off a little bit. These kinds of topics work as a dynamite on both of you. Just a little spark to set off an explosion. You don't agree with each other on a lot of levels, but usually you can find a middle ground. You are not so sure if that's the case right now. 

“Why would Maria take money from strangers, though. At some point they will either want to take it back and will try to make her do something for it. Nobody gives this amount without asking for anything back.” It's shady, they are, and you don't like it. You would do everything to protect your friends, they are your family. Knowing that someone has so much power over one of your friends doesn't sit right with you. 

''Maybe they just wanted to be nice.'' You roll your eyes. You said what you said, and Darcy can't make you change your mind. It's surprising she is even trying, 

“I don’t know… all of it seems a little extreme.” You are confused, for sure, but you also feel some kind of disgust. Letting someone pay just because, it’s …. It's wrong. And then just going to bed with a complete stranger while her wife is in the next room. 

“It’s not that extreme.” Darcy tries to reason with you, educate you on unknown topics. You were trying to see things from her side, but it's like talking in different languages. 

“Darcy, you are literally wearing a dog collar.” You say while hooking your finger in the metal hoop, tugging at it very lightly. She slaps your hand away and looks offended. 

“It's not a dog collar. God y/n. You know it's not about humiliating or degrading someone. It's a matter of ownership, Carol engraved her name on it, and it makes me feel loved beyond reason. She chose me, and she chooses me every single day. My collar shows how much she cares about me, and how proud she is of me. Carol is so happy to have me that she wants to show the rest of the world that I’m all hers, that they can only look but never touch. Tell me how that is degrading. 

“This seems like a control freak thing.” You are getting really close to the boundaries right now, you can feel it. She is getting fed up, her head long gone from the space on your shoulder. Her face is shocked by the things you say. It's not going too well. 

“Talking about it is one thing, but talking shit about my girlfriend is not acceptable. You've known Carol all this time… Did she ever come across as a control freak? Also, have you ever noticed her ring?” You think for a second, trying to recall the image of it in your head.

“The silver one she never takes off? I swear to god she showers, sleeps, and works with this thing on.”

“It has an engraving on the inside of it. A sign that she belongs to me just as much as I belong to her. Don’t speak up about things you know shit about.” At this point, she is standing up in front of you, and you feel trapped. Abandoning the conversation seems like the best decision at this moment, you are just too deep into it, and you don't know how to save yourself. You never meant to insult your friends. 

“Okay, let's leave you and Carol for a second. What about Maria, God I would die for her, but she wants to be under somebody so much. Provide for her, tell her what to do, what to say, what to wear, who to be. This is not normal.” You really do love her, but you simply don't understand. If that were you, you would do everything to make it stop. 

“Let’s not leave Carol and me. I want the same things from Carol, I'm getting the same things from Carol. Am I not normal?” You can see tears forming in her eyes. It's rare for you two to make each other cry, but every time you do, it's like hell visiting earth. You stand up to be with her on the same level, and as you do, you realise it's a mistake. Your mouth seems to work faster than your brain, and you wish you never said out loud the things you are about to say.  

“Fuck sorry Darcy but it's sick. Making yourself barely exist for someone's pleasure. If you are too scared to live your life, just say so. I love you, but the fact that you chose the easy way doesn't mean I need to approve of it. I love you Darcy, so much, the last thing I want and have time for is arguing with you right now. I don't think we are going to find middle ground here”. If the looks could kill, you would be dead right there and then. She balls her hand into a fist, but you stand your ground. She moves towards you, you feel her hot breath on your face, nostril flare up, and her eyes filled to the brim with sadness, threatening to spill.

She puts a finger on your chest with surprising force, but you still didn't move. You feel smaller under her gaze, not really sure why. Her next words proved what kind of power she has in your life.

“Sick? There is no middle ground in this. You are just wrong, so, so wrong about all of this. God, how can you be so fucking blind? You are not better than any of us, just because you decide to be lonely with your struggles. Grow up, because I want my fucking friend back, and until you do, don't talk to me.” 

That's it. She just stormed off to her room, leaving you in heavy silence. You’ve had arguments before, but you never said out loud what you actually think about the style of relationships your friends are living or want to live in. You should have kept your mouth shut. Mentally scolding yourself, you finish your tea and decide to try to fall asleep. Today was too long, and you wish none of it ever happened at all. 

Next chapter

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@autorasexy @lizziejolsen @natashaswife4125 @sayah13 @romanoffskisser @lijo-8 @jjiiuuisssagcebrcw @natashaswife4125 @dumbassbitchwithnotits @teenybean

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[opticfile]

𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐡é

—✦ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 // in which a player (Lutz Beilschmidt himself) falls for real this time, and the girl he's enamored by has to overcome his reputation.

✧ taken from my old quotev!! not stolen work!!!

—✦ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 // Lutz Beilschmidt (APH 2p!Germany)

—✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 // drinking, angst, assumed cheating, betrayal, fluff

3.3k words

The pounding in your head was only outweighed by the obnoxiously loud sound of the music blaring from the living room. It was another frat party, one you didn't intend on going to, but hey, you only live once. At least this time there was more of a theme, it was a Halloween costume party—though that mostly just meant sorority girls got to add a cat ear headband to their usual miniskirt and heels.

You and your friends were not dressed in the classic slutty animal costumes, and the more and more this party went on the more you were both thankful and regretful. Emma convinced you and Darcy to dress like... wizards. Not the cute, girly kind, the kind with the 2-foot beards and starry robes. Then again, Emma still managed to make the shapeless robes sexy, and she discarded her beard long ago. You were about to rip off your own, the synthetic material was getting itchy. 

The whole thankful and regretful part came in when you saw possibly the most notorious trio on campus, the biggest players to grace the university in about... what? 20? 30 years? Allen L. Jones (he claims the L stands for Liberty), Zao Wang, and none other than Lutz Beilschmidt stood in the middle of a group of girls, dressed as... holy shit, are they dressed as the Powerpuff Girls?

"Oh my god their shorts are so... short!" Emma giggled, "You can see every muscle..."

"When did the Powerpuff Girls get so slutty," You scoffed, itching under your fake grey beard. "...and buff."

"I see Lutz hasn't changed a bit," Darcy snorted, "Still as much of a manwhore as ever."

"I still can't believe he played you like that." Emma grimaced.

"Like a fiddle." You added in.

"Let's not revisit that..." Darcy dragged her hands down her face.

As Emma and Darcy got caught up in drinks and boys, you found yourself needing a breath of fresh air. Maybe if you were drinking right now, or at least a little tipsy, you might be able to deal with the sight of Allen showing off his biceps to four women. The backyard wasn't really that much better—toilet paper strung through the trees, the blaring music still within hearing, and a random couple making out behind a bush—but it was an improvement. You sat on the wooden steps of the deck, itching under your beard again. You hoped it wouldn't leave a rash...

“Merlin?”

“Huh?” You turned your head to be met with... Of course! Lutz! Probably the last person you wanted to see right now.

“Gandalf?”

“Oh, uh, more like… unlicensed no copyright generic wizard character…” You turned back forwards, praying he would go away.

“Gotcha, my favorite.” He sat next to you. Great! 

"Shouldn't you be, ya know, whoring out?" You snorted, glancing at him as his face distorted into an amused grin.

"Hey, I'm not all slut. I need breaks from the noise too sometimes." He nudged you, “I don't think I’ve seen you around.”

“Oh, we actually have the same world history class-" Unfortunately. "-with Professor Neilson?" He stared at you owlishly,  "Here, wait, maybe removing the beard will help.”

You pulled down the itchy beard and Lutz drank in your facial features. Scrunching up your face, you removed it completely and tossed it on the steps beside you.

“Oh, now I recognize you!" He smiled, before letting it morph into a more sheepish expression, "…Can I get a name though orrrrr…”

"...Y/n." You exhaled through your nose, turning away from him. "Don't worry, I already know your name."

"I'm glad!" He grinned broadly, "Introductions were never my favorite."

"..."

“Sooo... Can I get you a drink?

“I’m actually the designated driver so I’ll pass.” 

“Ah, respectable. Maybe something non-alcoholic then?”

“Actually I probably should be getting home to my, uh, my fairy godmother.” You internally facepalmed, god you were mixing up your fairytales. “Like in uh, Cinderella.”

“I didn't know unlicensed no copyright generic wizard character was a Cinderella character.” Lutz snorted,

“He’s from a remake, Cinder…wizard… It’s really popular overseas.” You checked your nonexistent watch, “Oops, clock is about to strike twelve.”

"Is your fake beard the Cinderwizard version of a glass slipper?" He chuckled, eliciting a genuine giggle from you—god you were gonna have to shoot yourself later.

"Sure, but it's stretchy so it's probably more like a one size fits all.

“Well… seeing as I know what you look like and where to find you, I’d say I'm a few steps ahead of Prince Charming.”

“Yeah, ‘I know where to find you’ isn’t creepy at all.”

“Sorry,” He laughed airily, “I’ll see you around then.” 

You quickly excused yourself and hurriedly walked back into the party to meet with Emma and Darcy .

"Was that Lutz? Why was Lutz talking to you?" Darcy inquired, hushedly but urgently.

"He was just asking for bathroom directions!" You made up an excuse.

"Isn't this... his frat house?" Emma raised a brow.

"Okay, okay, listen. He just- He just came over and he wouldn't leave and then told me he knew where to find me and- I don't know it was torture!" You whined.

"God, don't tell me you're his next victim..." Darcy shivered, "We need to keep you away from him, at all costs."

"Y/n L/n and Lutz Beilschmidt..." Professor Neilson continued to announce the pairs for a group project, and you felt like you were dying inside. Lutz's head popped up from his resting place on his desk.

"No way." You said in unison (though one was obviously far more excited than the other), and you glanced at him to see him grinning widely at you.

The moment class was dismissed and students began funneling out you made your way to Professor Neilson's desk with some very strong words and a lot of questions.

"Professor, not to question your judgment but why was I paired up with Lutz?" You frowned.

"I think you'll be a good influence on him-" 

"But-"

"-and he isn't a slacker so you won't be doing the project alone. You and Beilschmidt need to work together, just for this week." He said, sternly as he turned back to the various papers spread across his desk.

"C'mon, don't tell me you're trying to get rid of me already." A very familiar German accent purred behind you, an arm—a muscular arm but you tried not to go there—slung around your shoulder.

"Of course not, partner." You grimaced. "You smell like beer..."

"Sorry, süße, I'll wear cologne when we study." 

You shrugged off his arm with a groan, walking out of the classroom as Lutz trailed behind you. He easily kept up with your speedy strides, damn him for being so tall and quick on his feet, you were hoping all that muscle would weigh him down.

...You really have to stop thinking about his muscular build.

"Hey, wait, I thought we got off on the right foot." Lutz continued following you like a lost puppy until you turned around and glared straight at him.

"Listen, Lutz, I know a little too well what kind of guy you are and I really don't want to get involved so can you please just..." You sighed, "Just do your part and let's not get buddy-buddy."

"Hey, I was looking forwards to getting buddy-buddy..." He huffed, "Listen, Y/n, I know I have a reputation but that doesn't mean we can't be friendly, I mean c'mon, give me a fair chance."

You glanced between him and the crowd of students trailing the hallways, groaning as you gave in.

"Fine. But make one wrong move and I'm out."

"He's your what?" Emma gasped.

"My history project partner..." You whined, "I cannot believe Professor Neilson would do that to me, I mean come on I thought I was his star student. Why is he torturing me with Lutz."

"Not my monkey, not my circus." Darcy snorted, "You're on your own here."

"How did you get rid of him, Darcy?" You pleaded.

"I liked him." She sighed.

"Oh... Right..." You let your face fall into your arms, "God I'm never gonna shake him, am I?"

"She's your what?" Allen snorted. 

"My history project partner!" Lutz fist-pumped, "God, I thought Neilson was a hardass but he really hooked me up this time."

"She is kinda bad," Zao smirked, "You gonna... ya know..."

"She said no getting buddy-buddy but, well, you know me," Lutz smirked, Allen and Zao whistling and cheering. "I mean... I dunno, maybe I won't go too far with her..."

"What? Are you going soft on us, buddy?" Allen cackled.

"Hey man, shes not really like other girls ya know, she didn't really fold fast at all. I kinda wanna see where it'll go..."

"'Not like other girls' is wild," Zao snorted, "she's gonna end up like every single one of them did, in your bed. Or mine. Might snatch her up since you're hesitating~."

"I mean it, I kind of... like her. I don't really want to make her into another fling.." Lutz leaned back in his chair, groaning. "God, what am I gonna do..."

Lutz had been studying with you every day this week, and you don't think you've ever seen him this dedicated to the class itself. When he could, he would invite you to his place—goofily kicking aside the stray socks and boxers left strung across the floor by his roommates—but when he couldn't, you would study on campus.

Today, however, it was raining.

Lutz (yuck) 3:42 Y/N lemme just come to your dorm pls my place is busy rn zao is dealiong drugs or smth ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ Y/n3:43 no we can study tomorrow you're not coming in my dorm stay away far away ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ Lutz (yuck) 3:43 P[LEASE ill be on my bestest behavior trust

You gave in eventually.

"-and in retaliation, they..." You glanced up at Lutz, scooting away a bit. "You're this close to sitting on me, dude."

"Sorry, the words are so small, I can't read them..." He slowly grinned, "Hey, maybe you should sit on me, süße-"

"Don't even start, Lutz." You groaned, punching him lightly as he practically giggled beside you.

"It smells great in here, what is that, vanilla?" He sniffed.

"I think my roommate has a candle in the bathroom," You said, "but I think its lavendar so I'm not sure where youre getting vanilla."

He hummed, and though you couldnt see it, he was staring at you as your rattled on about some random history thingy—he wasnt really listening in the first place. Lutz had grown a soft spot to you, much to Allen and Zao's amusement, it had gotten so bad he was turning down girls. Lutz Beilschmidt was turning down girls. He was whipped, but he was too lovesick to be ashamed.

You flipped the page gently, but Lutz reached over and flipped it back. When you looked up at him, his face was hovering inches away from yours and he was practically drowning himself in your eyes.

"I wasn't- I wasn't done reading." His voice came out low, his tone intimate even.

God, what was happening to you?

Charcoal nuzzled into your neck as you leaned back in Lutz's beanbag chair. He pouted at you from his desk chair.

"Charcoal doesn't even do that with me."

"What can I say, he must just like me more." You smirked, sticking your tongue out at Lutz as you rubbed the top of Charcoal's head.

"Maybe you're like his mom." Lutz grinned, "Which since I'm his dad that would mean-"

You threw his dirty socks at him.

Emma and Darcy were supportive of you, even if they did think you were a little stupid for falling for Lutz (though, Emma meant stupid in an endearing, cute way!). However, sometimes you wondered if Darcy was jealous, and sometimes it seemed like she was. When you were talking to Lutz in the hallways, him begging you to come hang out with him with the saddest puppy-dog eyes Darcy had ever seen, her browline creased and her lips downturned. When Lutz was texting you, begging for your attention, Darcy was glaring at your phone screen. When you were complaining about Lutz being a little too comfortable, Darcy was bitterly making comments like "must be hard" and "poor you".

"I was gonna go to a party at Theta Theta this weekend." Darcy said as she scrolled through her phone, "You guys wanna come with?"

"Isn't that Lutz's frat house?" Emma said, bobbypin in mouth as she braided your hair, "Ya know, the guy Y/n is head over heels for?"

"I am not head over heels for Lutz-!"

"I'm not letting that loser stop me from partying," Darcy grinned, giggling, "Plus, it gives little miss Y/n a chance to meet someone new~."

"Oooh!" Emma giggled, "We can find you a man to make Lutz jealous!"

"Guys I cannot believe youre trying to rope me into doing that in his god damn house, are you kidding me?" You griped, "I am not going."

You sipped lightly on a hard lemonade, the blaring music echoing through your ears as you looked through the crowd for any sign of Lutz. 

(Yes, you gave in)

Since arriving, you had lost Darcy in the crowd and hadn't seen a single glimpse of the fluffy blonde hair you were so familiar with. Emma suggested going up to his room, teasing you and saying you might've made him retire from his partying ways. You rolled your eyes, but carefully made your way up the stairs anyway. Immediately, you saw Lutz exiting his room, looking a bit dishevelled but, hey, he's a frat boy. You smiled widely as you went up to greet him.

You never made it to him.

No one other than Darcy, your best friend since before highschool, walked out of his room behind him. Her lipstick was smeared and her hair messy. She barely spared you a glance before wrapping her grimy hands around Lutz's bicep.

"Babe, come back~."

You and Emma drove home in silence. Emma was horrified at the news, you could hear her acrylics tapping away at her phone screen and you could only imagine the shit storm that Darcy was getting. Your own phone was blowing up, actually, and you had to put it on do not disturb to be able to focus on driving at all. The threat of breaking down and crying pricked at your eyes and made your nose feel ticklish, you felt ill, and you stomach wouldn't stop doing backflips.

When Darcy said you lose Lutz by liking him, she wasn't lying.

At the same time as you were fighting a breakdown, Lutz was cussing out a very smug Darcy.

"Holy shit what is wrong with you?" He scolded, "I'm sorry that I didn't like our fling and I'm not in love with you, but you are some kind of evil for doing this to your best friend. Like jesus fucking christ, what are you even getting from this?"

"Come on Lutz, we were better than whatever you had going on with her, she could never-"

"Don't even finish that thought." He spat, "Get out of my god damn house."

You were awoken from your sleep by pitiful, desperate pleas at your door. You heard the frantic knocking, the begging and crying and whining, and you knew who was behind it. You rubbed your eyes, still puffy from crying yourself to sleep, and checked your notifications.

Lutz <32:13 A.M. please its not what it looks like i know thats like a stupid overused excuse but its not an excuse darcy told me she wanted to talk to me about something she set it all up please i dont want anyone else

Lutz <3 2:43 A.M. please respond pick up my calls i swear to god Y/n i promise nothing was going on i'm not like that  i swear

You snorted at his texts, he was saying every excuse, using every cliché line that people use when they get caught.

"Y/n I know you're in there I just want to talk I swear nothing was happening," As you walked closer to your door you heard Lutz bang his head against the other side, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please just let me explain."

When you opened the door he stumbled in, his face painted in shock and sadness and relief all at once, and the moment he laid eyes on your pitiful expression he looked like the wind had just been taken out of him. He tried to place his hands on the sides of your face to wipe your tears, but you gently pushed his hands away by the wrists and stepped back.

"Y/n..."

"You have 10 minutes to explain." You sniffled. "And then I'm kicking you out for being a dirty, lying, unfaithful asshat!"

"No! No, nonono, I wasn't unfaithful nothing ever happened I swear. On my life, my brothers life, my mother, father, cat, on everything important to me I swear to you that nothing happened between me and Darcy." He pleaded, "When you guys got to the party I was just hanging out in my room, watching videos, you know how it is. Darcy had knocked on my door and I- I went to open it and she just walked in like she owned the place. It was gross she was acting like we're super close and she was all flirty and it-

"Either way, she was trying to be all handsy and I had pushed her off and stepped out and that when you came up the stairs. She just came out after me and I knew it looked so bad and I didn't know what to say and-"

Were his eyes glossing over?

"Look, look at my texts with her and- and you can see that there really isnt anything going on and I swear you're the only person I want. I don't even have her number saved in my phone, Y/n, she's nothing to me."

You snatched his phone, scrolling through countless texts of Lutz being so irreversibly angry and distraught while Darcy simply defended her actions. You checked her number, it was really Darcy, and you felt fat tears roll down your cheeks.

"Oh my god you're telling the truth." You sobbed as you launched forwards into his chest.

He smelled a little woody and his shirt still smelled like laundry detergent and yeah there was an underlying hint of alcohol but it wasn't nearly as strong as it was the day you became his project partner. You melted into him as he rubbed his (rather large) hands over your back, calloused fingers wrapping around your arm as he brought you closer and closer to him and if it weren't literally impossible you thought you might have ended up merging with him. He kissed the crown of your head, muttering words of reassurance and affection. 

Lifting your head up, he wiped the tears away from your face and brushed your hair behind your ears. He gently caressed your cheeks, letting his fingers dance over every detail of your cheek and jaw before shakily bringing himself closer and closer to you until his lips met yours and you melted into each other with so much passion and affection you thought you might drown

"I think I'm in love with you."

✧ navigation.

#opticfile ✧༺࿐ #aph hetalia #hetalia world series #hetalia axis powers #hws #hetalia #2p!germany #2p germany #aph 2p germany #aph 2p!germany #2p!germany x reader #2p germany x reader #lutz beilschmidt #lutz beilschmidt x reader #hetalia x reader #hws x reader #aph x reader

[bethanydelleman]

This is perhaps a silly question but did couples in Jane Austen's time always refer to each other by Mr./Mrs. Lastname? It's something I noticed with all of them (even Mrs. Elliot who is very liberal in that regard, much to Emma's dismay). And it's not just in company either, Mrs. Bennet does it in front of their daughters and Lady Bertram when she's alone with Sir Thomas. It just seems very cold and distant in modern times.

Yes, it does feel weird to us and yes that appears to be what they do. In addition, many of the children call their parents "sir" and "ma'am". This is a much more formal society. I would feel just as weird calling someone my own age “Miss Lastname”! However, I know a lot of couples who refer to themselves and their spouses as "Mom" and "Dad" instead of their actual names in front of their kids, so it’s not totally divorced from our society now.

Anyway, one of the reasons we don't know a lot of first names of parents is because they only call each other Mr. and Mrs. Lastname. The exceptions are Admiral Croft, who calls his wife Sophy (her name is Sophia) and Mary and Charles Musgrove. John Mullen argued in his book What Matters in Jane Austen that this shows the contempt that M&C have for each other, but they are almost always among family and they are the same generation as Anne, so that might be why they use their first names. Mrs. Croft never calls Admiral Croft his first name back, by the way.

There also may have been a change in manners between the earlier and later novels. We hear women call men “Lastname” in S&S and P&P, but not in the later novels, then only men use that short form. Emma is highly offended that Mrs. Elton would say “Knightley”, though that may have more to do with their recent intimacy than a social rule, and Mrs. Elton does always refer to her husband as “Mr.” even if she shortens his last name into “E.”

What I find very interesting is that if you pay attention to when Mr., Mrs., Miss, and names are used, you can see how one character thinks of another. Fanny Price always thinks of Mr. and Miss Crawford, never Henry and Mary, even when other characters become less formal around them. When Elizabeth talks to Wickham (post-marriage to Lydia), Wickham uses the informal “Darcy” but all Elizabeth’s thoughts use the formal “Mr. Darcy”. Mr. Bingley is just referred to as “Bingley” about 50% of the time, but “Darcy” only about 30%. This probably has to do with the characters disliking him, but also with his station in society. Even the narrator is respectful!

Which is why I actually love the formal names/Christian names dynamic because you can get so much information just by how people refer to each other. Charlotte Lucas, Elizabeth’s friend, calls her “Eliza” and we can understand this as a representation of their intimacy. Yet when Caroline calls Elizabeth, “Miss Eliza”, it is rude, she hasn’t earned the privilege of a nickname. Similarly, Mary Crawford calling Miss Price “Fanny” before she is actually engaged to Henry is too much too soon, especially since Fanny has not extended this right in friendship.

And when Wentworth says, “but if Anne will stay, no one so proper, so capable as Anne.” It’s not just the praise, he says her first name. It is a sign, on second reading, that his feelings for her have returned.

Last note, given how formal Mr. Darcy is and how respectfully Elizabeth refers to him even when they are engaged, they are calling each other Mr. and Mrs. Darcy everywhere except the bedroom! At least that's what I suspect.

#question response #hope I actually answered you there #I find the name dynamics in Austen facsinating #I think there is a whole thesis in it #multiple thesises #thesi? #anyway I use this all the time in my JAFF #I spend so much time making sure even in thoughts people are being proper #my improper characters drop Miss in their thoughts #jane austen #formal names

[nelapanela94]

I know you love your angst and you do it so well! For your 1k event how about 30 and 38? Oh...I hope I don't cry too much! <3.

Aww thank you Eliza. Angst and heartbreaks are my thing. I just love writing it so bad it hurts.

30. “I know you still love me.”

38. “Mom asked about you again.”

Set in Modern AU.

WC. ~2.5k

Nela's 1k event

Like a million marbles, the deluge hammers furiously the shingles, encroaching the twines of conversations and murmurs, the senders sticking their mouths to the receivers’ ears. The raindrops snake down like vying tadpoles on the window, outside the afternoon sky is the color of an old silver coin, tarnished at the edges.

The steam doesn’t seem to wane.

And you’re trapped in this little café until the ashy gray clouds decide the condemnation is fair.

Your chin is roosted on your hand, elbow tucked on the wood, feet anchored to the footrest rail between the stool legs. Whatever force is pulling at the strings of fate you despise it right now, for it has unleashed a downpour just as you were passing by in front of that place, now museum of melancholies.

And the most beautiful moments, tarnished like a spill of ink warping through the water.

These two years have been a waste of time thrums at the end tail of your memories. That’s what he said before slamming a big bank note on the table and storming out without looking back. He never looked back, he never called, he never texted again. He was cruel.

He found the way to shear the red thread; or perhaps, there was never a red thread tethered around your fingers. Perhaps, it was never meant to last.

Damn zodiac signs.

Damn Romeo and Juliet.

Damn Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth.

And damn all those books, and poems and songs that made you believe in love. All the verses that invoke his name.

Levi.

It tasted like hot honey. Sweet and piquant at the same time.

Now, it feels like a bristle worm in your tongue.

What happened to us?

For months you clung to the theory that time had changed you, but no. The spell of a newborn love had blinded you, that phase when you only see the good, and the flaws are swept under the carpet. At first glance, everything sparks, and you scrabble his name in any surface, and watch his favorite series, read his favorite book; the person who draws a giddy smile on your lips. And those enchanted nights when your heart drummed for his name to jump on the screen, and you dove behind to reply as soon as you could. Your feet peeled off the ground, and you found yourself gravitating to him. It’s the time when you experience one of the best feelings, those fluttering butterflies in your belly when you stared at each other. You’d smile, and “what?” he’d ask, followed by a mild tug at one corner of his lips, and you’d just laugh, breathing out a “nothing.”

But then you begin to scrutinize, the first specks of dust pinpricking on the surface, scantly, trifling, that you let them pass.

You learned to make his favorite tea.

You roamed galleries hand in hand.

You cuddled in the farthest seat in the bus.

You made him dance in the living room.

Tipsy on wine and dreams.

You strain forward. Your warmth breath spans a canvas of mist on the glass, and your fingertip as a brush, draws two dots and an upward curve.

More and more people scurry in, seeking shelter, lining up to buy the cheapest item on the menu that will allow them to spend a few hours there with no impudence. The entrance carpet is soaked and stamped with dozens of muddy footprints. Drenched coats, spilling umbrellas, and dripping hairs making of the floor a hazard.

You bring the paper cup to your mouth, your rosy lips closing around the rim, the smell wafting up to meet some memories. You take a sip and let nostalgia roll down your throat.

Plain black tea.

The taste of his mouth. His breath distantly mingling with yours.

Why does it have to be the cheapest option in the menu? Though you didn’t pick that one for the price.

It hurts, like a thousand needles pricking in your chest, that you just can’t forget him. He wreathed a nest in you. His scars are forever carved in your hands. Like the one under his chin, the lighter bumpy tissue snaking across his shoulder.

Thirty-three are the freckles on his back with which you drew constellations.

Everything seemed all right.

The pans of the beam swayed at the same level.

Until you fling the carpet.

It took three words to tip the world. To uneven the balance and tilt it to your side.

It was one night, both tangled in the covers of his bed, snuggled from the nippy air, him stroking your hair while your hand was entwined in his sleek crispy hairs bushing around his half limp shaft, forefinger toying with a curl. Ruddy cheeks and dewy lips, his locks lustrous in sweat stuck at his temples and forehead. You raise your head on your hand, your mane cascading into the pillow. Tracing flimsy circles on his shoulder, you looked him in the eye, his pupils still blown up, and you slur I love you.

And right then something within him switched on or off, you don’t know, threads of smoke swirling in his irises, it was the moment when you broke the spell, when your bubble popped.

He said nothing. Instead, he laid on his back and folded an arm over his head, the other winds around you, cradling you against him as you nestle your head on his shoulder.

Everything went downhill from there.

You gave each other the gift of silence, and your empty hands gave the illusion of lightness. That everything was all right. The pockets were filled with sand and stones to trick yourselves into feeling that there was still something to offer. There was plenty of oxygen and yet it was hard to breathe. His name in your mouth began to sour. You were never long of words, and yet you ran out of them. You looked away. Not a laugh, not a hug from behind, not a kiss goodnight.

You felt lonely having him next to you.

Him and his absent presence.

“Why?” you asked.

“Why what?”

“We’re not working anymore, and I still can’t figure out why.”

“I don’t get it.”

“And I don’t get you. I’d like to know what you’re thinking, Levi. I feel… I have the feeling you’re not…” You gazed down, scratching a sudden itch on your arm.

Your cup was full to the rim.

He frowned. “That I’m not what?” His voice was a scour to your heart. He clasped your chin and forced you to look at him. You felt the weight of the stares, the rumors spooling around. His jaw was clenched tight, his hand trembling as if he were holding something up.

And it struck you right then.

“I have the feeling that you’re holding up. All the time. Like you’re afraid to give it all. You’re here but at the same time you’re not.”

A vortex of anger and pain swirled in his stomach, and suddenly, his favorite drink became acid. His hand fell from your chin, and then it was him to avert his gaze, frighten that you’d seen further through. He gulped, tugging at the collar of his gray t-shirt, cold sweat running down his spine.  

Busted.  

His eyes crashed with your glassy gaze, tears beading on your lashes. You were fiddling with your bracelet, sucking on your rosy lipstick that tasted like cherries. He opened his mouth to rebut, but nothing came out.

Trembling and delirious with the pang spreading on your chest, you bawled, “I want you all, Levi. The petals and thorns. If you’re not willing to give your all, we should put an end to this.”

He was nipping on his lips, pondering on what you’d said, and he let fear infect his decision. There was a before him, and to this point, you cling to the last thread of hope so that there wouldn’t be an after him.

But after receiving so many blows, a shell rises around the tenderest heart. A mean of protection. “I want what you want. These two years have been a waste of time!” He spat. The chair screeched against the floor, then came the slam on the table. Spills of tea. A cloud of whispers, and pity glances.

And he was gone.

You didn't even have time to give it a proper funeral. To bury the plans and hopes under the home you’d never build.  To wear black and cry the words that would never be spoken waiting for the perfect moment.

What should have been eternal didn't last more than an instant.

Your rub your palms on your legs and lean forward, raising your shoulders, too strained you feel they might poke through your skin, edginess creeping on your back like a troop of ants.

*

He shakes his head and water droplets spray every which way. The soles of his boots chafe the worn-out carpet, his hand sheltered in the pockets of his military green rain jacket. He lines up behind an old lady and waits patiently as his eyes divert around the packed-up place. He rocks on his heels, mindlessly, he doesn’t even have to look at the hanging board menu, the clerk knows him so well. Here and there, steel gray orbs jumping from head to head, and right when he turns his head, he stumbles with that camel knitted sweater, (h/c) hair waving down on your shoulders, you cowered in that position of mental suffering and distress. The floor quakes under his feet, and a dry heartbeat springs under his chest, the tips of his ears begin to tingle as his red blood cells take away with them the healthy blush of his cheeks.

“Next.” He jerks and takes a step to the counter, swallows hard, and mentally shakes off the mesh of thoughts, feelings, and memories.

“Hey, Levi.”  Mark lifts his stubbled chin in salutation as he pokes the order on the screen. Clad in a lumberjack shirt, his sleeves are rolled to his elbows.

The terminal beeps at the contact with Levi’s credit card and spills out his receipt. He should’ve ordered to go.

The universe is mocking him, he swears, because there’s only one empty seat and it happens to be the one by your side.

In his head, it didn't go like this.

He grabs his tray, the cup rattling against the saucer as he makes his way to the window seats.

Strawberries and mint. He can recognize your perfume from miles away.

He sets the tray on the mahogany wood slab and slips his ass on the stool, fighting the urge to reach out and let you cry on his shoulder. Though, that would be a hypocrite move from him. Instead, he slides his hands between his thighs and his muscles tighten.

“Long time no see.” Your mumbling startles him. Your head is still hanging, your hands clutch at the hem of your sweater.

“Yeah.” He breaths. His eyes fall into the steamy swirl.

“The Acqua Di Gio gave you away.”

“And you still wear the same shampoo.” He snorts.  

You rub your misty eyes. “In the place where everything ends.”

“And where everything started.”

“Your hands were shaking when you asked me if you could sit at my table.” All the tables were taken, and yours have a chair to spare.

“You smiled at me, and I thought I’d drop tray right there.”

“We didn’t exchange a word, yet you scrawl your number on a napkin and left it there. That was bold from you.”

“I felt like an idiot right as I walked past the door. I wanted to rush inside and snatch it back, but you’d already unfurled it.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes, a deep blush creeping across his cheeks. His eyes open again, and he snaps his face in your direction. “A minute later my phone buzzed.”

You raise your chin and sigh before meeting his gaze for the first time in eight months.

“You looking good.” You fold an arm on the bar, and the seat spins by a fraction.

“You cut your hair.”

“It’s the new way to end a chapter, you know, moving on.”

He bites his bottom lip, then says, “It suits you.”

“How’s your family?” You swerve.

Levi takes a sip, and when he sets the cup back on the saucer, his fingers never leave the handle. “Mom asked about you again.”

You don’t know how long you could hold back your tears. You remain silent for a while, looking through the glass at the ceaseless pelting outside.

“Fear made me cruel, Y/N.” Your name belches from his mouth, and it doesn’t sting. In fact, it sounds good. Velvety, sandpapery, and it has the same effect, revolting every cell in your system. “You didn’t deserve that. You… I… you were the best thing that ever happened to me,” he bites a sob and rubs his nose. “I was an asshole, and I uh... I’m sorry.”

Your empty cup crumbled in your grip. Thank God it’s cardboard, otherwise, your hand would’ve been stabbed with dozens of shards.

“It’s kind of late.”

“I know. And I’m sorry about that too.”

“Levi, you plucked me out of your life like weeds.”

“I’m sorry… I don’t even know what else to say. You know I’m not the most eloquent being.” He coaxed a smile. “And you were right, I wasn’t ready. I thought I was until you say… you know. Commitment frightened me, and…” he trails off.

“Because of them…”

He weakly nods. Levi never mentioned a word about it, but it hit the headlines for a week about five years ago. A drunk driver took the lives of his two best friends.

“You could’ve told me how you felt. I would’ve understood.”

Your eyes flick to your hands; the more his moves closer, yours drift back.  And not because you find him repulsive, but because you’re afraid the subtlest touch ignites sparks. Because…

“I know you still love me.” He dares spew. Your quivering eyes, wide open as if they might fall out, snap towards him, and you hate him now, you hate he can read you like the lines on his palms; you hate he can delve with such ease into you. You hate you let him in when all he offered were measly crumbs.

But what you hate the most is that he’s right.

And you’re stupid for feeling what you’re not supposed to feel. You’re pulling off the scab again.

Keep doing it, and the wound will never heal.

Air becomes thin, and the noise shrinks into a deafening distan shrill. You need to get out of there. You don’t give a shit about the rain anymore; you don’t care if you get pneumonia or whatever; it is better than letting him stab your ears with the truth.

“Please don’t.” Your voice cracks, your chin wrinkles, and your bottom lip wobbles, and even though your legs feel like jelly now, you force yourself on your feet and sling the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

The floor tips as if you’d gobbled down three bottles of wine. A drink is what you need now.

But now he insists. He grabs your hand and spins you around.

“I love you." His jaw sets so tight you think his teeth might splinter.

Three words is all he needs to put your world upside down. Ire, pain, sadness, the worst of the feelings coiling in a fire ball in the verge of explosion. You extricate your hand from his clasp. “Please, I beg you. Don’t do this, don’t play with me. If you love me as you say you do, please let me go. I’m not… not now.” You draw a sigh, and your shoulders slouch.

He’s broken too, and you can see it. He finally lets you see through him. But you can’t do this now. Not until you find peace within yourself.

It's hard to admit at this moment, but your love for him is not like foliage in the woods, it doesn't change with seasons; it resembles the rocks. Unwavering.

Hope flickers in his eyes.

He’s broken too, and you can see it. He finally lets you see through him. But you can’t do this now. Not until you find peace within yourself. You close your eyes and take in three appeasing breaths, long and deep, and when you open them again, you feel like a different person. You're still trembling, but your mind clears. And today you choose yourself.

"The tea will get cold." You quip. Mold and cold tea are the things Levi hates the most.

He gives you that half-smirk that dimples his left cheek. Maybe an after him can turn into another before him.

"You know where to find me."

Nela's 1000 event

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #Levi ackerman y/n #Levi x you #levi x reader #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyoujin eren #snk #snk levi #shingeki no kyojin #snk x you #attackontitan #levi attack on titan

[icyhotheartwritings]

Pet death/incoherent grieving ramble

Loki passed away Tuesday night. It doesn’t feel real. I mean, we just celebrated his birthday - our birthday - three days before. He was fine. He tried to buck me off a couple weeks ago. He was sprinting around acting a fool when mom got Waffles out without him not a day before.

He was only 22. We were supposed to have years left. Years. I was expecting at least 28, hoping for 30 or more. I never expected to lose him so soon. He was so healthy, I did everything I could, every supplement he could possibly need, vets and farrier and anything he needed, he got.

We were training for a show next month. I was working out ways to cure him of not wanting to ride alone. We had plans to ride with people. We had a whole show schedule for the summer. I was going to build trail trial obstacles. We were going to conquer the fucking world. And now he’s gone. Just like that.

The worst - and best - part was… there was nothing that could have been done. It wasn’t a case of if we got there an hour or two earlier, gotten to the vet sooner, he would’ve been fine. There was nothing. There was no hope. When we got to the vet they were talking surgery, then said it was too bad for a referral, then she got the bloodwork back and he was gone. Suspected internal melanoma that killed his digestive system, or something similar. Wasn’t a gas colic. Wasn’t something that could be healed.

Some incredible stranger helped my dad bury him next to Dreamer. Dad buried his peppermints with him, every piece he could find in the tack room, like Dreamer had his butterscotches. We’re buying wildflower seeds to scatter over them.

The morning feeder bought some plastic flowers and taped them to his gate with an led candle light. I cried.

I swore that Loki would be my last horse, that I couldn’t go through the pain of losing them again and again like Star and Carrots and Quinn and Dreamer but I was supposed to have more years with him and I don’t think I’m done yet. The barn owner said his stall is mine, that I can take all the time I need to find the right horse and I think I’m giving it a couple months before I begin to look in earnest. Nothing could replace Loki. But he never replaced Carrots. And Carrots never replaced Star. And I know I can love another horse, but I just… I need time. There’s two BLM mustang auctions in about four months. I might go. Waffles is a mustang. He’s a good horse.

These past 6 months have been. Absolute hell. I’ve lost a cat, a dog, and Loki. Almost lost another cat, it’s a fucking miracle we still have him. But Darcy and Loki were not even 4 weeks apart. It’s been a hell of a March.

With Snarky and Darcy, at least, we knew it was coming. We had warning. Snarky had cancer. Darcy was old and sick. They were both old, older than they had any right to be. But Loki was young. And it was so goddamn sudden.

When I’m hurt and grieving, I don’t… show much outward emotion. I’m the rock for everyone else. I hold it down until I’m alone and can let myself cry. For him, I screamed. I fell to my knees and I screamed.

It feels like a piece of my soul has been ripped out of my chest. Torn out, pulled apart, and the pieces set to light. I loved that horse with everything I am. I hope he knew how much I loved him. He was part of me. All my animals are, but he was special. He was my baby, my everything. I thought he was dead during the big fire, the last thing I heard before the cell service went out was that my mom couldn’t get to the barn and my horse was trapped, and all I could think was that I wanted to run down that burning hill and join him. But we got through it, both of us, together. We got through everything together. He’d always be there for me, he’d wrap his big head around me and hug me as I held onto his neck and he’d let me groom him while I prattled on about this and that. And now I have to get through this alone and I don’t know how I’m going to do it.

I don’t know how to end this post. I miss my horse. And I don’t want to go to work at the barn tomorrow and see his empty stall with the breakfast he didn’t finish.

#icy rambles #tl;dr i lost my horse and im a wreck

[jelazakazone]

Doorways as liminal spaces part 2

This was truly a collaborative effort with @herewetumble​ and @barrows-teeth​. Any mistakes are mine. Find part 1 here.

Although “Crush” starts with Nick and Charlie in their respective bedrooms, 30 seconds in Nick is looking at a picture of a corridor labeled “Hate this place” on Charlie’s instagram. Nick is transported back in time a year and can hear the bullying taunts of their peers and feel Charlie’s pain. His connection to and fondness for Charlie has grown. This inspires him to text Charlie and see if he’s doing ok after the altercation with Ben.

Elle passes by windows that look into her form room and then walks through the doorway into it. Before, she could only think about escaping Truham. There is a montage of her walking past windows and entering rooms to sit in the classroom. Later, we see her make a connection with Tara Jones and when Elle confirms that the teacher isn’t behind this, we can see her relax.

Elle pushes her way into the canteen. It’s noisy and crowded.  You can see the door close behind her, a nice bit of symbolism. *I* am anxious just watching her. She almost turns around and leaves, but Tara and Darcy spot her and call her over. She sits and as they talk, you can tell she has finally found her place.

Charlie ties his shoes on the stairs by his front door before venturing out to Nick’s. His hand hovers over the bell before he decides to ring it. We hear a dog barking and the door opens. Charlie is relieved; Nick is practically beaming with happiness. First Nick had invited him onto the field, now he’s invited Charlie into his home.  

After beating Nick several times at video games, they argue and tussle in a joking sort of way, Charlie even puts his hand over Nick’s mouth, and then Charlie notices through the window that it’s snowing. They look at each other and understand that each of them want to go out in the snow. As they step through the doorway, they are transported to a magical time and space (which Nick later remarks was “just one of his favorite days, ever”). They get to enjoy being with each other without any outside pressures. 

Charlie, Tao, and Isaac are sat on the couch discussing Charlie’s crush on Nick. Elle knocks on the door and enters. Elle is clearly comfortable here, but is also separate from the boys now (as seen by her late appearance and by stating that she’s the “mysterious cool new girl that everyone wants to hang out with”). When Charlie looks at her with puppy-dog eyes, she can’t help but relent and agree to help if she gets the chance. She will turn out to be a connecting thread between her two groups of friends at the divided spaces of the gender-segregated schools. 

Camera pans across windows outside school as a voice with a French accent speaks. Then we see Elle, sitting in front of Tara and Darcy. This conversation doesn’t reveal any clearcut truths, yet, but Elle is starting to get an inkling that the two are a couple, which would be good news for Charlie.

Elle is about to walk into her form room when, from the doorway, she glimpses Tara and Darcy chatting and holding hands. After hovering for a moment, she asks if they are together. They say yes, but please don’t tell anyone. After this moment, she is brought into the inner circle. No more hovering around awkwardly on the edges. 

Nick uses the knocker on Charlie’s door. Now it’s Nick’s turn to enter Charlie’s home. Nick attempts to play Charlie’s drums; Charlie, without thinking, tells him “budge over” so he can “help”. They seem to find ways to get physically cozy in each other’s houses. 

Charlie, wrapped in a blanket, says “I wish you didn’t have to go” in front of the door as Nick puts his coat on. Nick says “I wish I didn’t either.” After a beat, he says “You look so…cuddly like that,” and then pulls Charlie in for a hug. Nick is resisting the pull of the door that will take him away from this moment — it just feels so good and right to be with Charlie. After the hug, he steels himself and says “Bye, see you Monday,” leaving Charlie in a state of confusion (although Tori seems to know what’s up — “I don’t think he’s straight”).  

“Why am I like this” plays as Nick walks through his bedroom door, taking his shoes off. He’s shedding his exterior, peeling back the layers, opening up to his attraction to and affection for Charlie. 

#heartstopper #jela rambles #meta #doorways #yes I will dissect this show into a zillion pieces of confetti

[luckydragon10]

P&P Chapters 29, 30, 31

(Chapters 27 and 28)

Hmm, it's Saturday and these don't look too long. Gonna do an extra.

Score check:

Lizzy made a small gain to +20.

Mr. Darcy isn't even in this book. He's still at -10. (I'm tempted to take 5 points off just for swanning right the hell out of the plot.)

~~~

Chapter 29

Mr. Collins: “Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel...."

This whole paragraph is just so casually insulting that it's amazing. This dude is really, truly hopeless.

While they were dressing, he came two or three times to their different doors, to recommend their being quick, as Lady Catherine very much objected to be kept waiting for her dinner. 

So unbearable, my dude.

He kisses her ass so much and so hard when she's not around that I am dying to see how they actually interact. Is she actually horrible to him, and he just doesn't know it? Or is she actually super haughty despite his saying she's gracious? There has to be some sort of reversal on this, please.

Okay okay, the intro to Lady Catherine... hmm...

I find it very interesting that Lizzy compares Lady Catherine almost immediately with Mr. Wickham. Wasn't expecting that.

After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the windows to admire the view,

Strolling around a room for a walk, being sent to a window to see the view... yep, this is me again, just being grateful that I live in modern times, thanks so much.

Mr. Collins attending them to point out its beauties, and Lady Catherine kindly informing them that it was much better worth looking at in the summer.

Okay, good, she casually calls out his nonsense.

When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, there was little to be done but to hear Lady Catherine talk, which she did without any intermission till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every subject in so decisive a manner, as proved that she was not used to have her judgement controverted.

I see why Mr. Collins likes her now. He aspires to her level of nonstop talking. She's everything he wants to be.

Oooh, I'm giving Lizzy +5 for her whole scene with Lady Catherine. Ballsy. I hope it doesn't come back to bite her on the ass later.

....except when Mrs. Jenkinson expressed her fears of Miss de Bourgh’s being too hot or too cold, or having too much or too little light. 

If she wasn't hypochondriac before, she's definitely been made to be one.

But her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her ladyship’s praise into his own hands.

Pardon my bluntness, but Mr. Collins won't be satisfied until his tongue is in Lady Catherine's ass.

~~~

Chapter 30

Elizabeth soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in the commission of the peace of the county, she was a most active magistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by Mr. Collins;

Lady Catherine is the most battleaxiest of battleaxes. This is only fitting.

Elizabeth had heard soon after her arrival that Mr. Darcy was expected there in the course of a few weeks,

I sure as fuck hope so. He's never going to even have a chance to get out of a negative score if he doesn't show up!

His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage; for Mr. Collins was walking the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, in order to have the earliest assurance of it,

Can you imagine if Mr. Collins had a Twitter account? *shudder*

Lizzy: “My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?”

Still fighting the good fight for Jane. Bless you, Lizzy.

~~~

Chapter 31

Hmm hmm, of course the Colonel Fitzwilliam has taken a fancy to Lizzy. Such is the life of a romance heroine. La de da.

Topic of music, hmm hmm.

Darcy makes a move toward Elizabeth and gets immediately taunted, of course, of course. *solemn nodding*

Lizzy: "I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit."

OMG, you idiot, he's perfect for you. *head desk*

“I am not afraid of you,” said he, smilingly.

Holy fuck, he CAN flirt. Dude, did absence make your heart grow fonder? It did, didn't it? I'll give you +5 for that, congrats! You're finally on the move again, though still in the negatives.

“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

READ HIM FOR FILTH, FITZ! 🤣

Darcy smiled and said, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”

Good line, good line.

Wow, this room is just full of hormones right now, isn't it?

(Chapters 32, 33, 34)

#nemi reads p&p #pride and predujice #chapters 29-31

[college-girl199328]

Via Rail passengers stranded on trains for over 18 hours amid winter storm | CTV News

Passengers on a number of stalled Via Rail trains say they have been on the vehicles for as long as 18 hours. They are few updates on when they will move forward.

Darcy Pyrell told CP24 that he boarded Via Rail train 55 from Ottawa to Toronto on Friday at around 3:30 p.m. The train stopped on the tracks near Cobourg at around 10:30 p.m. last night, he said.

“We were told then that it would be an hour before we might be able to start moving again,” Pyrell said.

It was still stationary as of 8:30 a.m. Saturday. “We were told it was because of a downed tree and we were told that one of the two trains stuck behind us was going to merge with our train to pull us along,” Pyrell said. “But we haven't seen that train come around. We haven't moved and a lot of people are thinking that they're being lied to by Via Rail. And we're really not sure what to do with ourselves right now.”

In a statement to CP24, Via Rail said that “due to extreme weather conditions” several trains in the Québec City-Windsor corridor have been immobilized or cancelled.

“From power outages to trees on the tracks and even a tree falling on a locomotive, conditions make it impossible to move some of our trains,” the company said. “Our first priority is the safety of our passengers and, although stopped, our trains are able to keep passengers warm and safe while on board.”

Canada's Minister of Transport Omar Alghabra has since taken to Twitter to call the situation with Via Rail unacceptable. This is because many passengers reported massive delays and cancelled trips due to a major winter storm.

Alghabra says the unprecedented weather has caused delays in Canada's transportation system and the safety of passengers and crew is a top priority.

Some passengers on Via Rail trains immobilized overnight en route to Toronto say they are being forced off trains in Oshawa ahead of their final destinations.

The lengthy delays come amid a winter storm that has gripped much of Canada, bringing snow, strong winds and bitterly cold temperatures.

Pyrell, a student at the University of Ottawa, said he was planning to be home in Guelph by now to spend the holidays with his family. However, he's not sure when he'll get there.

“The plan was to be home for a week to see my parents and see my family for the first time in a while. Of course that's going to be cut a touch short, unfortunately,” he said. “But what can you do? I guess.”

He said he packed himself a thermos of macaroni and cheese which he ate for dinner last night, but he hasn't eaten since.

“People are also handing out water right now. I think that's all we've got left on the train.”

He said the attendants he’s seen coming up and down the aisles appear “stressed beyond belief” and his fellow passengers are frustrated and angry that they haven't received any updates about the situation.

“One other passenger did call the police and an ambulance and they said that they could pick up anyone with immediate medical needs, like just anxiety issues or anything else,” Pyrell said.

Via Rail said that it has been in touch with the infrastructure owner and is “focused on keeping our customers as comfortable as possible in the current circumstances.”

The company was not able to provide an estimate for when the trains will begin moving, but said customers will be compensated.

“We, however, deeply apologize for this situation and the impact on our passengers and we are continuing to work with our teams and the infrastructure owner to either get those trains moving as quickly as possible or bring them to their final destination with the appropriate equipment. Passengers who are travelling on these trains will be provided with a full refund,” the company told CP24.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, June 12

Willow: What about magic? Some kind of, I don't know...uranium extracting spell? I know. I'm reaching. Giles: Perhaps a paralyzing spell... only I can't perform the incantation for this. Willow: Right. Don't you have to speak it in Sumerian or something? Giles: I do speak Sumerian. It's not that. Only a...an experienced witch can incant it, and you'd have to be within striking distance of this object. Xander: See what you get for takin' French instead of Sumerian? Buffy: What was I thinking?

~~Primeval~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Judgement of the Wronged (Ensemble, T) by Aragorn_II_Elessar

Villainy (Willow, Xander, T) by LudditeRobot

Astral Visiting (Willow/Xander, T) by LudditeRobot

light in the dark (Tara/Willow, NR) by katscardigans

Virgin Sacrifice (Buffy/Angel, E) by Anonymous

Mirror (Spike/Buffy, NC-17) by Holly

[Chaptered Fiction]

Hanging out in cheap motel rooms, Chapter 1 (Crossover with Supernatural, E) by CookieDoughMe

A Fable Environment, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Willow, E) by CSM_Scriptator

Tabula Rasa 2: the adventures of Randy and Joan, Chapter 4 (Willow/Tara, T) by Hoomanbeans

What I Did On My Spring Break, Chapter 9 (Ensemble, T) by michael t

Silence In the Night, Chapter 4 (Anya/Buffy, K+) by KitKatt0430

House Keeping, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, PG) by Cosmic Tuesdays

Exquisite Clarity: Part 1, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by yellowb, Kanita, JayeMaru, bewildered, incendie, LaceratedLullabies, honeygirl51885, MrsAkers, and Indigodusk96

Holy moley (me oh my), Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by violet_valentine

Anything We Want, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by scratchmeout

The Best Laid Plans, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, R) by lex_hex

Mortal Allies Series, Episode 5: War and Roses, Chapter 30 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

Possessed, Chapter 16 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Brooke724

Mockingbird, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by violet_valentine

Professor SummersChapter 2 (Crossover with Numb3rs, FR15) by LancerFourSeven

Guys and Dolls, Chapter 8 (Multiple anime crossovers, FR18) by dogbertcarroll

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Buffy the South Park slayer by Eastwood96

Artwork:'look at my poor neck' by bidet-of-evil

Artwork:Every Outfit, Season 3 by whatshisfaceblogs

Artwork:Pride!Jenny Calendar by on-a-sunbeam

Artwork: Faith sketches by space-sheep08

Comic Panels:Spike the hunter by snakeliciousbaby

Manip gifset:Fearsome Buffy by summersblood

Video: BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER 1997 Cast Then and Now 2022 How They Changedby Clayton Hiles

Video: Buffy and Faith: All around me by Slayer girl

[Reviews & Recaps]

ANGEL RETURNS TO SUNNYDALE! Buffy, the Vampire Slayer 4x8 'Pangs' Reaction! by Elie Moses

A BUFFY VISION! Angel 1x7 'The Bachelor Party' Reaction! by Elie Moses

Watching Buffy | S02 E11 | Ted by darcie's watching buffy

Buffy The Vampire Slayer 3x17 - "Enemies" Reaction by DodoReactions

THEIR NEW OFFICE - Angel Reaction - 2x2 - Are You Now or Have You Ever Been by TheLexiCrowd

PODCAST: 6.16 "Hell's Bells" by If The Apocalypse Comes, Beep Me

[Fandom Discussions]

Giles' speech in 'Never Kill a Boy' by bidet-of-evil

Faith campaign pitch by charmedbuffy

Writting on Judaism in the Buffyverse by anonymous and herinsectreflection

The brilliance of "I Only Have Eyes for You" by bleedingastigmatism

headcanon: slayers get stronger with age by isagrimorie

(visual meta) BtVS + Queerness by summrsbuffy

If post-series Buffy flirted back with Faith by isagrimorie

how do you like your monsters? by multiple authors

Season 5 is overrated and overhyped by multiple authors

Question Spike & Buffy––sibling or romantic? by multiple authors

Season 3 is the ultimate Buffy season for me by Joshua

Angel Season 5 Rewatch - #2 Just Rewards (SPOILERS) by multiple authors

If slayers had to be guys instead of girls who do you think would fit the bill? by multiple authors

season 6 by multiple authors

vampires as demons or people without souls? by multiple authors

Buffy fans, I have a question regarding Angel after Willow restored his soul and he fell through the hell ground again. by multiple authors

Why isn't Willow's antagonism towards Xander's relationships with Cordelia and Anya not as called out as Xander's antagonism towards Buffy's relationships? by multiple authors

Literary references in Buffy by multiple authors

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

PUBLICATION: Angel #6 Preview: Spike Goes Hollywood by Bleeding Cool

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

[spinninwiththestars]

Hello everyone, much like most of the LGBT community around the world, I’ve devoured the beautiful show HEARTSTOPPER. I’ve at least cried one a day since watching the first time and I feel like I need to vent them all out and I hope you enjoy reading.

Both Kit Connor AND Joe Locke’s outstanding performances in these eight hours of perfect television. Wow. Not only did they standout on individual fronts:

Kit’s accurate portrayal of a teenager coming to understand his sexuality, to his gentle and loving portrayal of healthy masculinity. Not only did he make a beautiful character even more beautiful, he made an icon.

Joe’s vulnerable portrayal of a boy who is unashamed of his sexuality but doesn’t wish any animosity or pain on Nick who was still figuring out his feelings and sexuality. His also quiet but powerful portrayal of a boy who has an eating disorder (which will be explored in the inevitable second season) and his painful exposure to homophobia, gaslighting and bullying.

BUT TOGETHER ON-SCREEN, wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a couple be portrayed so authentically and beautifully. To hear stories that they got along so well and would often playfully fight with each other/kit threaten to drop joe into the ocean/off his lap, it just makes the relationship as rich as what Alice Oseman intended. It was just such a natural and loving relationship and I can’t wait to see them grow with their characters.

And the supporting cast - amazing! I have to list them all - William Gao (Tao), Yasmin Finney (Elle), Corinna Brown (Tara), Kizzy Edgell (Darcy), Fisayo Akinade (Mr. Ajayi), Cormac Hyde-Corrin (Harry), Jenny Walser (Tori), Sebastian Croft (Ben), Rhea Norwood (Imogen), Tobie Donovan (Isaac) and the incomparable Olivia Colman as Nick’s darling mum, Sarah. They ALL and I MEAN ALL OF THEM shine in their own ways.

HEARTSTOPPER is a welcome and loving addition to the world. Netflix would be absolutely insane and idiotic if they dared cancelled this show. It’s a gnawing thought that’s been on my mind since I watched this show (especially with Netflix’s recent troubles) and to those with similar thoughts, let me try and make you feel better:

The show debuted to 14.55 million hours after three days. In comparison, Young Royals debuted to roughly ~9 million hours and it got a second season renewal.

The cast and Alice Oseman are gaining a lot more traction. Kit Connor almost now has 2 million Instagram followers, Joe Locke almost has 1.5 million. Alice Oseman’s follower count has risen as well. The official Heartstopper Instagram account is also nearing 1 million followers. As of April 30, it is currently ranked No.5 on the Global Netflix TV Show list, and it is in the top 10 of roughly 50 countries around the world.

The show has been trending across Tumblr, TikTok and Twitter the past week.

Netflix has been swooning and raving about the show across their social media accounts on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. If it’s just a marketing ploy and then they cancel it BOY will Netflix face an uproar. And with Netflix needing a win, HEARTSTOPPER has essentially given it to them.

It sits highly with critics and audiences. It holds 100% Certified Fresh, 98% Audience on Rotten Tomatoes, it sits at 9.0/10 and at #83 on the Top 250 Shows on IMDb and holds Universal Acclaim status on Metacritic.

I have to remind myself constantly right now that HEARTSTOPPER is only just beginning there are no logical signs that this show is going anywhere yet and I hope people will continue to discover the show and fall in love with it. Regardless of whether you’re LGBTQ+ or straight there is much to love and admire here. It’s funny, it’s cute and it is unafraid of exploring darker themes in a healthy and authentic way. Don’t sleep on it, take it all in, read all the graphic novels and then take the show all in again.

#heartstopper #kit connor #joe locke #alice oseman #nick nelson #charlie spring #yasmin finney #corinna brown #kizzy edgell #jenny walser #sebastian croft #rhea norwood #tobie donovan #olivia colman #elle argent #tao xu #tara jones #darcy olsson #ben hope #lgbt #bisexual #trans #netflix #television #tv #isaac henderson #mine #spinninwiththestarscreations

[xenia12]

Incorrect Amphibia Quotes

Because I’ve been sucked into the fandom and am beyond help at this point It’s mostly Darcy cuz I hate/love them so much

Marcy: Where's Sprig? Sasha: Don't worry, I'll find him. Sasha, shouting: Anne sucks! Sprig, distantly: Anne is the best person ever! Fuck you! Sasha: Found him.

The Core: My future host must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Marcy: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to her knees and sob while apologizing profusely* The Core: That one. I want that one.

Darcy: What’s up? I’m back. Anne: I literally saw you die. You died. You were dead Darcy: Death is a social construct.

Andrias: Darcy, you’re such a genius! Darcy: Yes, I know.

Darcy: You are, of course, wondering why it is I have brought you here tonight. Andrias: Actually, Darcy, after all these years, I just sort of go with it.

Darcy: Frog, give me patience. Andrias: I think you mean 'give me strength'. Darcy: If they gave me strength, you'd be dead.

Darcy: You seem familiar... have I threatened you before?

Andrias: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Darcy: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.

Andrias: I feel awful about killing you.  Darcy:  Andrias: Even though technically you never even died, so I don’t know what you’re bitching about.

Andrias: You played me!  Darcy: Like the cheap kazoo you are!

Marcy: Can you recommend me a book that made you cry? Anne: General mathematics 6th edition

Andrias: Are you this rude to everyone?! Darcy: Yup. Darcy: Don't think you're special.

*at a zoo* Sprig: What are they in for? Anne: Sprig, this isn't prison. Sprig: So they can leave? Anne: No, but- Sprig, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

Darcy: I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now.

Andrias: Hello Darcy, made anyone cry today? Darcy: Sadly, no. But it’s only 4:30.

Olivia: How did you break your leg? Marcy: Do you see those fancy stairs? Olivia: Yes Marcy: I didn't

Darcy: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

#Amphibia #Darcy Wu #king andrias #darcy amphibia #incorrect quotes #incorrect amphibia quotes #Marcy Wu #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #sprig plantar #the core #possessed marcy #corrupted marcy

[stuckybarton]

Birthday Sex for Frostbite!Loki 😝😛😋

Woot Woot for this!! So, I just had to go with TH's age right now for this. Reader is in her mid-30's so not really much of a huge age gap between them.

FROSTBITE MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST || Join the Taglist || Requests Are Open

Warning: Mature Content. Explicit 18+. Rough Sex. Mentions of bodily fluid. Not Beta'd. Loki hating his own birthday.

Birthday Sex with Frostbite!Loki

Loki Hates Celebrating his birthday. No questions asked.

You had often asked Thor and the rest of the family why, but no one has a good answer

Sylvie would often point out that his past birthdays were filled with meetings and arrangement that he didn't really have the care to celebrate now.

Thor would answer that their father never really cared for his birthday unlike the rest of the siblings, that believes it was just a pity for what their father had forgotten.

Hela just points out that Loki was scared of getting old.

One thing had be certain since you two got together, since you've found out about his--other life.

You want to celebrate his birthday, whether he likes it or not.

So here you were, the café closed earlier than usual. The staff was given the rest of the day off as you had decorated the place with birthday streamers and banners; Thor, Sylvie, and surprisingly even the nonchalant Hela had also stopped by to help with fixing the café.

You and your Uncle had also baked Loki's favorite cheesecake and a chocolate birthday cake. You had also bribed your security detail into not telling Loki about your plans. A hearty meal and the promise of staying in the house for the next week had them agree instantly.

Jane and Darcy had helped with the food. Everything that Loki loved in his meal. A good bottle of wine and another whiskey. They had brought it to the café.

Gifts had also overflowed the table.

Everyone feared Loki, but there was still the respect and the appreciation for the opportunity he had given to them, either in the company or in his mob.

Glancing down, you had also decided to dress to the occasion.

A dark green summer dress that complimented Loki's fixation for green suit or more often ties. The dress was made to mark yourself as his.

"he's gonna be pissed off." Hela pointed out as you had finally texted Loki to come pick you up from café.

Frigga, who had arrived last was quick to scold her eldest daughter and her pessimism

that had worried you initially, but then again, knowing the past your boyfriend had, it was good to give him something to look forward to--especially now that you were here to stay.

It didn't take long for his car to park in front of the café. Everyone had hidden behind the counter and the smile on your lips lingered at the confusion that set on his face.

The café was different, the vintage décor that you and your Uncle had spent ages perfecting was covered, in cheap balloons now resting above the ceilings, the gold tinsel curtain that had partially covered the windows, and the large 40 balloon plastered on the wall.

"what's all this?" his eyes darken, a storm you were more than certain you would be facing behind closed doors

before you could explain, Sylvie and everyone else had exited their hideouts. Everyone cheering and singing Loki a Happy Birthday.

The storm in his eyes disappeared as he put on a smile, the biggest smile you had ever seen from the man.

But you knew him, knew the mask he puts on in front of people. He was pissed beyond belief, but he would play along, for the sake of the people present. FOR YOUR SAKE.

For the next few hours, Loki played along with whatever you had planned.

The blowing of the candles, the dirty party games that Darcy and Sylvie had planned, even the opening of gifts.

All throughout, Loki had you besides him. Arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Hand digging onto the curves of your waist, almost painfully so whenever you would try to try to leave your place besides him.

Then finally, the mini party had come to an end with Loki insisting that everyone could go and the two of you could clean up--much to your protest as well as your Uncle's.

But Loki had a way of convincing him, and silencing you in the process with just his arm wrapped so tightly around your waist, nails digging so painfully against the thin material of your dress.

Loki had ordered his security to place all of the gift in the waiting car. The suited man waiting patiently outside, while you finished up.

But Loki had other plans.

"fight me."

Inside the office, you were splayed haphazardly on your office table on your stomach, all the records and files now thrown on the floor.

Your skirt bunched around your waist and your panties pushed to the side as Loki's cock had impaled you ruthlessly.

as soon as the two of you had finished cleaning the café for tomorrow's shift, he had pulled you into the office, the only place you had allowed to ever have sex with Loki in the premise of the café.

he had made the most out of it. fucking you so hard and so deep. rutting his hips into you as his chest laid heavily on your back, rendering you incapable of moving--like he wanted you to do.

you bit your lips, stopping the moans from escaping your lips all over again. you're not gonna play his games. not like this. not when he acted like a complete asshole to you now that you two were alone.

with your silence, he became rougher. hands now finding their way to your body. one hand wrapped around your neck and the other falling to your core.

"fight.me!" every word punctuated with a rough trust.

you finally couldn't stop yourself as the first pained moan had escaped your lips. this blurring the line between pain and pleasure.

With the small space you lifted your arms up and tried pushing him away, every fiber of your being was trying to push him away.

but he was too strong.

you played dirty shoving your hips towards him toward pushing him away with a resounding pop.

You tried to escape but the action had you tripping, with Loki catching you, and the both of you ended on your carpeted floor. Loki fucking onto the floor.

"come on, love. where the fight in you?"

you closed your eyes and dug your knees further onto the carpet floor as he continued to fuck you. Hands splayed on your neck and the other profusely rubbing onto your clit building you up.

the pain continue on as the coil finally snapped and you finally broke all the control you had left in your body. the moan escaping your lips and Loki was quick to consume with his mouth.

the ropes upon ropes of cum now coated your inside, but your boyfriend was far from soft.

"i'm not done with you." he had whispered pulling you with him until he was on his back sat on top of him, full length thrusted onto you.

for the next god-knows how long, Loki had made it his mission to fuck you into oblivion. your panties were discarded somewhere in the room as well as the dress you wore.

sweat, cum, and some blood had also painted your skin from his actions.

you've come more times than you could think of.

and the satisfied smile that now painted on his lips also meant he felt the same.

"is the stick out of your ass now?" you inquired trying--and failing to stand back up onto your two feet. Legs giving out on you.

you glared at Loki, annoyed that he had rendered you incapable of walking for God knows how long.

"depends on how fucked up the plan is right now."

turns out, Loki wanted to spend his birthday with just you. no one else. had someone cook a meal for the two of you before whisking you away to some place just for the weekend.

you messed it up.

"but i'm happy you'd thought about me, My Love." He assured you as soon as he noticed you in your own thoughts. "no one ever made the effort to plan a birthday for me."

"why?"

"age is something i can't run away from." he points out and mentally cursed knowing the pessimistic Hela was right.

"now i can call you daddy." you teased but the smile on your face fell at his cock coming back to life at your statement. "nope. i need a fucking breather. i'd crawl buck naked if i had to escape."

"go on right ahead. i'm sure my driver would enjoy the show of my woman thoroughly fucked into oblivion before i place a bullet in-between his eyes."

you rolled your eyes holding your arms up for him. He was quick to lift you up, buck naked into his arms, bridal style.

"i have your shirt in the drawer and some panties. can you get it for me?"

"seem to be prepared for this kinds of interactions?"

"prepared? maybe. Interactions? this is a fuckfest and you know it."

You point out and your eyes just drowned away into the smile on his own. it was one thing to see him all broody and cold, but it was another to see this side of him, playful and lighter side. A ice cold heart, finally melted away.

"and i would want it any other way."

With that, you were cleaned, clothed, wine and dined back in your shared apartment, fucked a few more round, before falling asleep in the waiting jet as the two of you now make you way to Paris for the weekends.

#Loki Laufeyson smut #loki smut #loki odinson smut #loki hc #loki aufeyson hc #loki odinson hc #loki laufeyson headcanon #loki headcanon #loki odinson headcanon #loki headcanons #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #frostbite headcanon #frostbite series #mob!loki

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Can I have a jane austen 3 part fanfic where it's like lost in austen tv series modern chubby reader gets sent to jane austen and colonel brandon (alan rickman) and Mr darcy (Mathew McFaydenn) and the love reader at same time kind of like u did the headcon

Hello dear sorry for this long request I hope you like it 💖.

Mr Darcy X chubby reader X colonel Bradon💎

The men's bride👰

Chapter 1:

It was quite hard to imagine a woman like me trying to find a husband. I’m not really the type that’s into just any man more so I want one that’ll treat me with respect and at outmost love. I never really thought for a second that the man of my dreams would happen to be at this very annual ball. My parents organised this event for me to at least find someone acceptable. “What if I never find someone papa” I asked with worry “don’t you worry my dear y/n you will find someone” my father wraps his arm around mine. The women at this ball seemed to be very pretty and could attend any prince. I always dreamed of having a prince ask me to dance.

The ladies wore all sorts of costumes, feathers, streamers, and ribbons. They were all hoping for the same thing, a chance of finding a respectful husband. I was probably one of the most plain looking here, I wore an ordinary dress with feathers coming down my face and ribbons tied in the back of my hair. I didn’t think anyone would’ve chosen me that was until he appeared, a handsome young man with quite the attire. “Excuse sir may I dance with your daughter” The man asked my father.

“I would love to oh papa please” I pleaded as he seemed rather eager “oh very well if he is high of ranking, we shall allow you to wed this man”. “Come y/n our dance awaits” he was rather eager to get his way with y/n into her heart.

“My name milady is Fitzwilliam Darcy; you may call me Mr Darcy” he kissed her hand “oh my that sounds like a rather dashing name” y/n smiled. He couldn’t wait to see the girls outcome; he was infatuated by her appearance. She wasn’t terrible looking, and her personality was amazing. Mr Darcy looked at y/n with dreamy eyes “you have such pretty eyes y/n, may I ask something miss y/n”.

“Of course, Mr Darcy” I nodded “would you marry me”. This happened so fast it seemed too good to be true. “Yes, oh yes Mr Darcy” I smiled widely however Mr Darcy held something against the lower class.

“Very well then we shall arrange it over the next couple of days” Mr Darcy left and eventually talked to my father. The next couple of days after were quite beautiful really, never would I have thought a man would want to marry me.

Chapter 2:

I was sitting down having a cup of tea enjoying the peacefulness around me with a soon to be husband. As I was about to read, I heard a knock on the door, it seemed rather unusual to have a man around at this hour. “Goodness who might that be” I got up to reach the door, it seemed Mr Darcy didn’t tell me about his guest. “Hello sir” I smiled shyly “good evening mam” a man within his 30s greeted me. “I didn’t know Mr Darcy expected guests” the man kept staring at me “well sir I’m about to have tea feel free to sit down”.

The man came up to me and kissed my hand “the honour is mine milady”. I guided the man within the room, he was quite pleased with me. He was known to be cold and rather unromantic, however I thought otherwise. “Milady you have quite a remarkable beauty” he smiled “I’m sure you’ve got a fine husband” before y/n admitted “well I don’t yet but I will very soon”. “Right, I actually came by to ask Mr Darcy something but now I have a new request” The man grabs my hands “will you miss y/n be my bride”. I blushed he was certainly older but even then, he was handsome.

“Forgive me but I’m supposed to be marrying Mr Darcy” I looked down however he came up and gently placed his lips on mine “I understand but it’s not too late to change all you have to do is be mine”.

“I do have a higher ranking after all, I’m sure your father may approve” I stood there stunned. Suddenly that’s when Mr Darcy came in the room “y/n is everything alright, I assume you’re here to see me” the man grabbed my shoulders pulling me back.

“Indeed, however I shall take my leave farewell Mr and Mrs Darcy” Colonel Bradon took his coat and headed out the door. I watched as the man left, he was fairly odd he was seen as cold but with me he was soft.

Chapter 3:

I was wearing a gown of white, and my hair was tide up. I had no intention to become sad as this was the happiest day. Someone opened the door to my room until my eyes saw “Colonel Bradon what are you doing here” I questioned. “I had to see you y/n, I couldn’t let you go, and I beg of you don’t marry that man” Bradon knelt down grabbing my hand “you should be with someone of my ranking”.

“Mr Bradon, I chose to marry Mr Darcy I love him you see” I seemed quite surprised as to why this man broke in. “very well I won’t hold a grudge, but I must confess I’m in love with you”. He came up to my lips and gently planted his on mine, a kiss was shared between us another man’s bride and a Colonel.

“I bid you farewell soon to be Mrs Darcy” before I came up and whispered, “If Mr Darcy wasn’t here, I would have married you”. My heart pounded as he was suddenly leaving, I couldn’t stop him my heart belonged to Mr Darcy, but I ached for Colonel Bradon too. My wedding was about to begin as my father walked in “come it’s time”. I walked with him down the isle to see Mr Darcy at the end. I could see in the very distance the Colonel watching from afar as his beloved was about to marry off with some rich man.

I closed my eyes and whispered “I’m sorry” I looked towards Mr Darcy as we both shared a kiss.

A bride that fell in love with a rich man and the Colonel that fell in love with the bride.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta 💫

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