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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 3 years

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Swedish Hologram Crush

Pairing: Reggie x Alive!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none?

A/N: Happy last day of JATP Appreciation Week! Thank you to @jatp-week for organizing this, it’s been so much fun!! Today’s prompt was to write something in canonverse so I bring you my first ever Reggie fic featuring a Julie’s Classmate!Reader. Let me know if you‘d like to be tagged in any of my future jatp works because even though this week is over I will still be writing for these wonderful characters! As always, lmk what you think!!

Masterlist

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You hadn’t meant to fall in love with a hologram boy from Sweden, you really hadn’t. It had just sort of happened.

Who could blame you though? You were pretty sure everyone in the gym fell at least a little bit in love with the band when they appeared as if by magic behind Julie that day. You, however, fell completely for the bassist.

You were first struck by his looks. Sure, the brunet and blond boys were cute but there was something about the bassist. His dark, styled hair and leather jacket over the red flannel. Your first thought was that he was hot, and then he smiled and your heart melted.

You could tell just by the way he performed and interacted with the crowd and his bandmates that he wore his emotions on his face and his heart on his sleeve. Then he sent a wink in your direction as he played.

You were hooked from then on.

You had so many questions for Julie when you got to your shared bio class. You’d somehow managed to be lab partners for two years in a row now and you worked quite well together so you didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of your situation to get information about the boy.

She told you his name was Reggie and that they were actually from Sweden. You’d been disappointed but unfortunately the fact that you’d probably never be able to meet each other let alone communicate didn’t stop your crush from developing.

You continued to inquire about him when you met at her house to study for tests or work on homework. She’d always tell you what you wanted to know but would always remind you, nicely, that you didn’t have a chance.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N,” she’d say sincerely but you would wave her off.

“It’s just a harmless celebrity crush.”

“We’re not celebrities!” Julie would protest and you’d grin.

“Not yet, you aren’t,” you would remind her, confident in the fact that her band was going places. “But when you go big and the whole world falls in love with those cute Swedish boys I’ll be able to say I was the first Reggie girl.”

You’d both laugh at that before returning to whatever school work you were working on.

You went to every performance you could as well, unable to get enough of the cute bassist and loving the band’s sound. You’d made it to their last-minute coffee shop gig and Julie’s garage party. The girl had even managed to score you a ticket to their Orpheum performance, knowing how big of a fan you were.

___

While Luke was going out of his mind trying to navigate his feelings and relationships it Julie, Reggie had an even bigger problem. He hadn’t been able to get you out of his mind since he’d first seen you in Julie’s school’s gymnasium. He asked Julie about you all the time and would often sit next to you on the couch when you came over to study. He knew you couldn’t see or hear him but he liked spending time with you, much like he did with Ray. Sometimes he’d help you when you got stuck on a problem since bio was one of his favorite subjects in school. You couldn’t hear him but Julie could and it always made him feel warm to know he helped you out.

His situation with you was worsened by the fact that he knew you had a crush on him as well. He heard you ask Julie about him (most of the time he would feed her the answers to your questions so you could know more about him) and he also heard you gush about how cute and talented you thought he was and how unfair it was that he lived in Sweden. He knew in the back of his head that telling you they were from Sweden was actually a smart idea, but he resented his friend for the choice as it meant you’d never know that he was there with you and interested in you too.

Luke had it easy, he often thought frustratedly. At least Julie and Luke could see each other and communicate. Reggie had to get by on the eye contact and smiles she gave him during their gigs. The hardest one had been the Orpheum when he had been sure that it was the last time they’d ever see each other again. It broke his heart when he disappeared after their bows, sending you one last smile and a wink like at their first performance.

When Julie saved them in the barn he couldn’t help but feel relieved. Sure things would still be difficult, but the two of you would be able to make eye contact and share smiles again. He just didn’t realize how soon or often.

___

The day after the Orpheum performance you made your way to the Molina’s garage, having arranged to meet up with Julie to study for your upcoming exam. You let yourself in, sending a text to Julie to let her know you were there. You jumped slightly when you looked up from your phone and noticed she wasn’t alone. Standing in the studio fiddling with a bass was Reggie himself.

“Oh my gosh, um, hi,” you said, shocked at the sight of the boy in front of you. “Oh, um, I’m sorry. Do you speak English?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I speak English?” He asked, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

“Oh, well, Julie said you guys were from Sweden so....”

“Ohh, right! Yeah, that’s us, the Swedish hologram band,” he chuckled nervously and you narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“Wow, you don’t have an accent at all,” you scrutinized and he chewed his lip nervously.

“Y/N! You’re here! Ready to work on that lab?” Julie called as she stepped into the studio, heading straight to the couch where they usually worked and setting up her materials.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, puzzled by her actions. She didn’t even stop to look at Reggie. “You didn’t tell me your bandmates were coming in from Sweden.”

“What?” She asked, looking up from her materials. When she locked eyes with Reggie her eyes widened. “You can see him?”

“Yes, I can see your bandmate who speaks perfect English and has no accent whatsoever,” you said, raising your brow to indicate your suspicions. “The jig is up, Molina. Spill.”

“Okay,” Julie sighed, “You’d better sit down though.”

The three of them made their way to the couch, sitting in the same arrangement (unbeknownst to you) that you’d been sitting in for weeks now with you sandwiched between the two musicians. From this close up you could see the freckles that dotted Reggie’s cheeks and nose and the different flecks of colors in his blue eyes. Your breath caught in your throat as he smiled lightly at you, your eyes locking.

“Okay, lovebirds, you’ll have time to stare dreamily into each other’s eyes later,” Julie said, and you felt heat immediately rise to your cheeks as you looked down at your lap. “So, this is gonna sound crazy but you have to go with me on this, okay?”

You nodded, turning to look at your friend curiously.

“They’re ghosts,” she said and your eyes widened at the explanation, looking back and forth between Julie and Reggie. “They died twenty-five years ago and somehow I brought them back.”

“This is insane,” you said, trying to keep an open mind but not believing it.

“It’s true,” Reggie said somewhat solemnly and you turned to stare at him in confusion. “Oh, Julie! Show her the article about our deaths!”

Julie nodded, pulling out her phone and pulling up a webpage before handing it to you. The headline read Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Tragedy. The article detailed the tragic death of three-fourths of the band Sunset Curve right before their performance at the Orpheum in 1995. As you scrolled down you found a picture of three boys who were unmistakably Luke, Reggie, and Alex.

“You’re ghosts.” You said quietly, handing Julie her phone back. “If you’re dead how come I can see you?”

“Well, I don’t really know,” Reggie admitted. “Only Julie was able to see us before but some weird stuff happened last night so maybe it has to do with that?”

“Weird stuff?”

“We were able to touch,” Julie explained. “Before then we just passed through each other.”

“Yeah! Our souls were going to be destroyed but then Julie saved us with a magic hug!” Reggie added and your eyebrows shot up.

“Okay you’re gonna have to back up and explain all that,” you laughed and Reggie grinned, immediately launching into a detailed and dramatic retelling of the events of the last few weeks. How they’d come back as ghosts, found out they could still perform with Julie and that their old bandmate had betrayed them. You gasped at all the right places when he told you about meeting Caleb and the curse he put on them. When he explained the significance of their Orpheum performance and how upset he’d been when he thought you wouldn’t see each other again.

You couldn’t quite believe it but, well, a literal ghost was telling it to you so you supposed it came with the territory. You weren’t sure when, but at some point in your conversation Julie had excused herself, leaving you and Reggie to talk alone.

“So, you were sad you wouldn’t see me again?” You asked curiously, trying to fight the heat rising to your cheeks at the implication.

“Devastated!” Reggie exclaimed, before quieting down as he realized the connotations. His cheeks turned red and he had to fight to look you in the eyes as he continued. “I’ve had a crush on you since we performed Bright at your assembly.”

Your eyes widened at the confession and you beamed.

“Really? I’ve had a crush on you for just as long,” you admitted shyly.

“Oh, I know!” Reggie beamed, and you stared at him. “I, uh, may have heard you talking to Julie about me on multiple occasions.”

“That’s so embarrassing,” you groaned, putting your face in your hands to hide from the boy.

“Hey, I thought it was adorable and really sweet,” Reggie reassured you, reaching out to gently pull your hands away from your face.

“Reg, you’re touching me,” you gasped as you looked down at your hands with were still held in his.

You gasped softly again when you looked back up and found his eyes studying you thoughtfully. There was something in his eyes that you could only describe as intense as you stared at one another, faces subconsciously moving closer together until their noses were nearly touching.

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” Reggie asked softly, squeezing your hands lightly and eyes flicking to your lips before returning to your own.

“I’d like to find out,” you whispered back.

As soon as the words were fully out of your mouth Reggie surged forward, connecting your lips. The kiss was soft and sweet, one of your hands slipping from his to reach up and cup his cheek. It was over all too soon but it was worth it to see the smile that broke out across his face. His hand came up to cover yours that was still resting on his cheek, his thumb softly stroking the back of your hand.

“That was nice,” you breathed and he nodded in agreement.

“Wanna do it again?” He asked brightly and you laughed, reconnecting your lips.

“Woah! Hey!” Julie exclaimed as she walked back into the garage. “I left so you’d have privacy to get to know each other, not get to know each other’s mouths!”

The two of you jumped apart, your face heating up in embarrassment once again. You chanced a glance at Reggie and found his face red with embarrassment but the ghost boy was grinning cheekily at Julie. She rolled her eyes at the boy before shooing him away.

“We have an exam to study for!” She reasoned as she pulled him from the couch, attempting to push him through the garage door.

She’d nearly managed it when Reggie poofed from her grasp and back to his place on the couch, leaning over to give you a quick peck on your cheek. He called out a goodbye as he ran from the garage, not wanting to face the wrath of Julie and you laughed, waving at him until Julie closed the door, blocking him from your view.

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx

#jatpweek #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #reggie peters #jatp reggie #reggie jatp fic #reggie x reader #jatp reggie x reader #reggie jatp x reader #reader insert #julie molina #alive!reader #jatp #Reggie jatp

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

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Top 10 Favorite Fictional Couples

Happy Valentines Day, people on the internet who probably won't read this! I'm an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. And even though I'm a lonely bastard who will absolutely die alone one day, I am also a sucker for romance. If a story decides to include a cute couple in it, then you better believe I'm going to gush over them for an unhealthy amount of time for a man my age. Even more so if they answer the three most essential questions that I think applies to every romantic couple in fiction:

Why do they like each other? (Looks don't count. It can be an option, but it shouldn't be the only option.)

Would it make sense for them to be together? (Like, if this couple would exist in real life, would you expect them to last.)

Do they have chemistry? (This is the most important one as a couple can dominate just by the chemistry alone.)

So today, I am going to rank my top ten favorite couples in fiction, who just so happen to answer most, if not all, of these questions. Now, I could be cute and make a top fourteen list...but not too long ago, I just listed off the twenty best-animated series of the 2010s, so I think it's best if I stick to the basics. Also, I should make a few things clear:

A. These are couples, not ships. The pairing has to have a canon kiss, or at the very least, a canon confession to be on the list. This means sorry, Lumity fans, but Luz and Amity are not going to be on this list...even though they would absolutely be #1 if they could be!

B. The couple has to at least spend an entire episode being together, which means no last-minute hookups because the writers wanted to drag out the romantic tension. (Sorry, Catradora fans)

With that out of the way, let's get started with--

10. Laura Hollis and Carmilla Kernstien from Carmilla (Web Series)

The chemistry between these two is on point. Laura’s and Carmilla's actors Elise Bauman and Natasha Negovanlis are so convincing when acting like a couple that I am honestly shocked to find out they never actually dated. This is good because everything else about Laura and Carmilla's relationship is...kind of the worst. Don't get me wrong, as a couple, these two are fantastic, adorable, well-written, and well-performed. But the writers seem very fond of keeping them bickering and broken up rather than actually having them together. And that is where the issue lies. If the writers committed to Laura and Carmilla being together instead of doing this whole "will they or won't they" crap, on top of them being selfish idiots in season two, then you better believe they would be in the top three, at least. As they are, they at least act adorable enough to make the top ten.

9. Gregg and Angus from Night in the Woods

Ok, I'm gonna level with you: I just wanted to put an mlm relationship on this list, and this was the best I can come up with (I haven't seen Good Omens, nor have I finished Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts yet to see Benson's relationship with Troy. Leave me alone). As a male bisexual, I'm kind of disappointed. I know that male pairings exist in media, but for the life of me, I don't think they are as celebrated as much, or as frequent, as female pairings have been. This is sad because I would honestly love to see how more couples like Gregg and Angus.

These two act so much like a real couple. Gregg and Angus care and support each other so much, yet they still have big arguments as any couple would. They clearly love each other but still have issues they both need to deal with if they want to grow. Plus, I'm just a sucker for opposites attract. And you can't get more opposite than the loud and bombastic Gregg and his quiet and serious boyfriend Angus. There are probably better mlm pairings than these two (And if there are, then let me know. I'd love to check them out), but Gregg and Angus prove that any relationship, no matter the gender, can be the same as any other. Both the wholesomeness and the faults.

8. Peter Parker and Michelle Jones from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

I put these two a little low because we barely see them spend time as a couple. Peter and Michelle got together at the end of Spider-Man: Far From Home, and we only get a glimpse of how their relationship works in the last few minutes. However, I'm willing to argue that they count because they are guaranteed to be a couple in the sequels, and we'll be allowed to see them grow. How often do you get to say that for other fictional couples who get together at the end of a long story? Plus, Peter and Michelle earn extra bonus points for being the best couple in a Spider-Man movie. Michelle is a league's better character than the MJ in the Sam Rami trilogy, and the chemistry is still adorable but not overtly cutesy like it was in The Amazing Spider-Man movies. So even though Peter and Michelle just got together, they show a lot of promise, if you ask me. Their interactions are adorable, you can tell that Michelle likes Peter for Peter, and they are the most accurate depictions of young love you’ll ever see. Just look at that first kiss. It was one filled with inexperience and awkwardness and I just love it! I’m already interested in what these two have to offer and I can’t wait to see what happens next with them.

7. Andy Dwyer and April Ludgate from Parks and Recreation

The best description you'll ever hear about this couple is that they are what happens when a dog and a cat fall in love. Andy is dopey, happy, and loyal to no end. April is intimidating, cynical, and is already plotting your murder as we speak. What I'm saying is that these two shouldn't work...but they do. Somehow, by every leap of logic, Andy and April complete each other. They are both so far gone from reality, yet at the same time, both keep each other grounded in more ways than one. It's a weird paradox that never ceases to amaze, nor does it cease to be adorable. They do go through bullcrap love triangles and a "will they or won't they scenario" in seasons two and three, but once that crap is over, the writers lean into the potential these two have as a great couple. And trust me when I say that it is all lovely to watch.

6. Rapunzel and Eugene from Tangled: The Series

Huh. I guess romance really does exist after Happily Ever After.

Joking aside, I was surprised by how well these two work as a pairing. Usually, when the Disney Prince and Princess get together in the end, there is nothing more to the relationship. And even if their movie gets a spin-off series, the dynamic is as generic and forgettable as it can be. For Rapunzel and Eugene, it is different. Their chemistry is top-notch, their constant love and support for each other are admirable/adorable, and the complete trust they have for one another is absolute perfection. I was already surprised by how good Tangled: The Series was, but the fact that the main couple is somehow better here than they were in their own movie is something I would have never expected.

5. Rigby and Eileen from Regular Show

And seeing how we're talking about surprises, who saw these two being the best couple in the series? With the number of times that the writers focussed on Mordecai's romantic hang-ups and how often Muscle Man and Starla were considered the only canon couple, I was shocked when it turned out Rigby and Eileen have the best loving relationship in Regular Show. Even crazier, their relationship is built entirely in the background of the first six seasons. Since her introduction, Eileen has been head over heels for Rigby since the beginning (for reasons I'll never understand), and Rigby slowly reciprocated. Until the big reveal in the season six finale, there was nothing but implications as they were trying to hide their relationship and not rub how perfect it is in Mordecai's face (no matter how much Rigby wants to). But once we get to see them as an official couple, it all becomes clear why they work so well. Eileen loves Rigby for Rigby, and will always support him, faults and all. Rigby pays it all back in spades, wanting to be a better person, as well as a better boyfriend, for the one person who always believes there was something good inside. Not even his own best friend had that much faith in him. And on top of all of that, they're just cute. They may not have been the central hook in the series, but they are definitely much appreciated.

4. Chris and Elise from Dan Vs./Millie and Moxxie from Helluva Boss

These four are tied because they pretty much have the same dynamic. Chris and Moxxie are these pathetic losers who somehow managed to marry Elise and Millie: Badass assassins who could effortlessly marry any man they want. And what they want are their pathetic losers. It's extra wholesome for Chris and Elise, as Chris really can't do that much right, especially in comparison to the ever-perfect Elise. Yet, she still cares deeply for Chris and will promptly destroy anyone or anything that causes him harm. That being said, while Millie and Moxxie are both equally deadly, there is an odd hilarity to the fact that these literal demons from hell are so gosh darn wholesome. Seriously, their literal job is to kill people who screw over those who went to hell, and I'm always going "D'aww" when M and M always do something cute. Explain that logic to me!

There's nothing more I can say about these four, as they're adorable couples that prove love comes in the most impossible circumstances and the unlikeliest places.

3. Ruby and Sapphire from Steven Universe

I'll always remember that Ruby and Sapphire are the first couple that proved to me that there is nothing wrong with a same-sex pairing, especially in children's media. Before Steven Universe, I wasn't necessarily told that same-sex couples are wrong, but they're not meant for kids. Then I found out that these two girls, on a kids show of all places, we're madly in love and my first response was: "...Huh." And this was before I knew I was bisexual, so I wasn't even that obsessed about it at the time. But the more I saw Ruby and Sapphire, and the more I learned about how starved the LGBTQ+ was for representation, the more I really appreciated them. Ruby and Sapphire never fail to be precious, and the fact that they barely spend any longer than a few minutes apart is downright heartwarming (and incredibly literal if you've seen the show). They also broke a ton of barriers to proper representation. Not only were Ruby and Sapphire one of the first explicit lesbian couples in children's animation, but they're also the first ones to actually get married. Because of such a power move, many networks and shows make it less of a challenge for writers to include more gay characters in their stories. There is still a lot of hard work that those writers face, but it certainly seems it's less of a challenge than it would be before Steven Universe came out (Ha!). Ruby and Saphire are the first fictional gay couple I have been introduced to and have made an incredible impression ever since.

2. Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum and Marcelene Abadeer from Adventure Time

But while it's Ruby and Sapphire that introduced me to the concept of a same-sex couple, it's Princess Bubblegum and Marceline that made me root for one. In (I want to say) 2017, I started rewatching Adventure Time, knowing that queer relationships were indeed a thing. This means that not only did I finally caught the INCREDIBLY noticeable subtext in "What Was Missing," but I was legitimately chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" when I got to the episode "Varmints." And when they finally did kiss in the series finale, I full-on jumped out of my chair and screamed, "YES!" That never happens. Not even for the straight couples that I've obsessed over before this. Either I coo at how adorable they are, or just smile a warm and gentle smile. But letting out a very audible cheer that my college roommates definitely heard? That shows how deeply I cared for these two. And can you really blame me?

Not only is the chemistry on point with Bubblegum and Marceline, but it's interesting getting to see their relationship evolve through the course of the series. They have a dynamic of a couple who broke up on bad terms (long before "Obsidian" confirmed this), and you slowly get to see them reconnect to that spark they lost long ago. Plus, the more you see them interact, the more of their history is revealed, and thus it becomes clear why they fell for each other in the first place. Bubblegum keeps Marceline responsible, while Marceline helps Bubblegum learn how to loosen up. They balance each other nicely, and after some much needed growing up from the both of them, that spark returns. And they're much more of a loving unit than they were years ago. It's incredible to watch, and I would honestly see an entire spin-off series about them. But, as great as Bubblegum and Marceline are, there is a reason they are not my number one.

(There’s no art for this one because they’re characters from a book and I don’t want to steal someone else’s fanart for the sake of my crappy Tumblr post)

1. Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase from Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus

And that reason is that I can't resist the first-ever pairing that I obsessed over. Percy and Annabeth might just be the example I live by for how couples should be written in media. Dynamic wise, of course. In terms of telling a story, their relationship was handled poorly in Percy Jackson and the Olympians. It was filled with agonizing love-triangles, a very long wait, and they were one of those couples who didn't get together until the end of the series. Which is a major no-no, in my opinion. But, when they finally get to be a couple in Heroes of Olympus, it is downright perfection. Percy and Annabeth are what happens if these two badass warrior heroes fell in love. They worry about each other and are willing to die for each other (if need be) but still have an intense amount of faith and trust for one another. The number of times Percy or Annabeth knew they would be alright because they have each other is incredibly high, no matter what series of books they appear in. They work well together, as well as off each other. Percy is this bumbling idiot who wins his battles through a mix of luck and skill, where Annabeth is this intelligent warrior who has trained since the age of seven. They compliment each other perfectly, and their constant playful bickering is always fun. I love these two, I love their love, and they will always be one of my favorite fictional couples in media.

(That is until Luz and Amity from The Owl House become cannon. In which case, you better believe they'll be number one.)

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And those are my favorite couples. Out of curiosity, what are yours? Or, at least, what are your top five? Don't feel afraid to let me know or even make a list of your own.

Have a happy Valentine's Day, with whoever you want to celebrate it with and however you want to do it.

Now, if you don't excuse me, I have an entire to-do list of s**t I have to do, and I gotta figure out which to work on first.

(Should I review Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles next, or do that scene breakdown for Amphibia? Oh, the possibilities are killing me...)

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fitzpirations · 2 years

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recent eBay finds, in keeping in with a bit of a Marvin Trilogy theme on the blog as of late. I can't complain.

Technically I am an eBay seller? by means of my employer's record collection I help sell, but I've never purchased anything on the site. It's just the place to find out of print/press rare little finds, of which these are perhaps not specifically. but still! very generously low prices, the books came as a package deal, and both buyers wrote me the sweetest little hand-written notes. one of them was on a notepad containing Peanuts characters. The other one sent me a free "gift" CD, which I thought was a kind way to phrase IN Trousers- since I'd heard only a handful of songs on Youtube and was sort of saving a complete listen through for a physical copy,,, the gift was an original cast recording CD of Grease on Broadway, bubble-wrapped to the back of In Trousers. haven't tuned into that yet, but what a pleasant surprise! if only i didn't have a guest account, they'd both get rave reviews.

Been a weird handful of days, and I've been meaning to write more for my own files, but the wintertime and the existential dread of my day-to-day has had me uninspired, to say the least. All I can share is that I deeply, truly, crazily LOVE In Trousers, I watched the reunion video from Broadwaycon a few years ago to find them expressing displeasure with the '85 rewrites, and, as it turns out, the book I have. I tried to read along when I first listen to the CD, but I quickly realized they were different. Still eager to dig into that. I skimmed March of the Falsettos, really just keen on stage directions and some of the ~libretto~ details I'd been itching for the "book of the musical," so-to-speak (although I read a tweet the other day that was like you do know the book of the musical isn't actually the libretto, right?) and will give it a more extensive read soon.

i dunno. nice notes from strangers, a sort of sweet interaction with Marvin Falsettos himself Michael Rupert on Instagram yesterday, and a furthering, annoying, forever, awe and appreciation and fascination for Mr. Bill Finn whom I don't know but will call Bill and who grew up in my father's hometown, which I will pretend somehow makes us alike. there's an imagined invisible thread here that I can see. an interconnectivity, a passing of the hands.

things are so crazy but In Trousers is so fun to think of, it can be either completely abstract, serious, deeply embedded in queer theory, or just fun music. I love reading interpretations on youtube comments and either being like wow!! they have opened my eyes to some subtext/notion bill was going for or i think YOU IDIOTS it isn't that deep!! not every line is so direct/subtle!!

being neither queer nor jewish i often wonder why works pertaining to one or both of those identities always fascinates me, of which I think it is even still some imagined kinship and/or perceived otherness i connect with. every since I was young I've had some strange admiration for Judaism, and was annoyed but thrilled when as like a 1st grader we had to sing a song about "light[ing] the candle, spin[ning] the dreidel" at a Christmas concert, because it was so new to me. Annoyed perhaps because there was one child in the entire elementary school who was jewish, and he was half-jewish. not to go on to some strange tangent here. I think also of bell hooks's definition of queerness- which isn't specially sexual in nature, but more of that otherness. truly i don't know how to claim i wear the hats of either of these identities, and to say they fascinate me isn't quite proper either. they resonate. i keep finding myself reading literature adjacent with a certain time to, I just finished E.L. Doctorow's City of God, Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five, last year I read the newly released The Vixen by Francine Prose, and Maus (both editions) by Art Spiegelmen, but also Giovanni's Room and Fun Home and Running with Scissors and Wedekind's Spring's Awakening and while most (if not all) are great works of literature for thousands of reasons and widely regarded, it seems strange that they called out to me specifically. i mean nothing to pin this on Finn's work, his just happens to so often have an intersection of Jewish faith and queerness from what I've appreciated so far.

all of this is to say the understanding the self is so confusing and I don't think I lie to myself too much about who I am. listening to in trousers i'm stupidly like hmm i wonder what it must feel like to be marvin, even though he and all of the other characters have so many deep moments of resonance with me, and relatability, but i'm like hmm wouldn't this hit all the more harder if i too were gay? i mean- chip isn't gay but is it fair to claim he doesn't get the material? that he cannot understand/admire/appreciate it too? I think even if he wasn't Marvin, he'd still be one of In Trousers 's biggest supporters. truly rambling here. to be clear i think that'd be an unfair thing to say. I just like the work a lot and am trying to sit on the feeling I got when a friend texted me about a dead relative and 'do I have faith' and how i almost replied "I'm thinking of converting to Judaism." How I was the only undergrad who stayed in a class with middle-aged and septuagenarian nighttime learners with the rabbi and the kabbalah and how I so desperately wanted to understand God's mystery. ANYWAY. it is all so much more culturally ,, immured? It is all so much more,, I can't find the word. Less straightforward and more complex than either religion or sexual preference. communities of which i could never be part of, in the fact that i am other to the "others" too.

i mean, this is a small blog. not going to throw in tags because idk who wants to read all of this. but if anyone stumbles upon this, I would love to have a conversation on it. In the quote I mentioned earlier, bell hooks said

"queer not as being about who you're having sex with (that can be a dimension of it); but queer as being about the self that is at odds with everything around it and has to invent and create and find a place to speak and to thrive and to live."

to me, that's what this feeling I'm sort of living in is. that place to speak and to thrive and to live. I don't fully understand why I'm drawn to these things. but to live in their worlds through song or word, to imagine these people and characters and feel I can relate to their struggles somehow, feelings and notions that are still so inherently human, despite differences to me- it is a comfort to me. falsettos et al is that space for me. at least for now. and i like that about myself. it isn't something anyone else I know in real life has specially. it is just this combination of works creating a space and a feeling specifically that I escape to.

whew, ok. this is why i always claim i'm a writer on social media bios. one last note- i didn't intentionally ignore falsettoland in my ebay purchases. it'll come into the collection at some point, i'm sure. i certainly listen to it all the way through less, but that's more of a sadness-i-am-not-willing-to-deal-with-right-now thing, and less of a particular dislike for it. i sing whizzer hello, gee you look awful to myself all the time. and both versions of Falsettoland/a day in. who among us is not a short insomniac of some sort, a queer little thing with lots of regret.

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

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Better Late Than Never?

I had a few other ideas in the creative queue that I planned to do first but after watching TLC and Smackdown, this one just pushed its way to the front. Kevin is one of my long time favorites and not just because he’s from the place where I live. I seriously think that despite having been Universal Champion, US Champion, and a major player for years, he’s still undervalued by WWE. Aside from his skills in ring, he is one of the Top 10 and possibly Top 5 promos in the world, whether as a heel or babyface. I hope 2021 is the year that he finally gets fully acknowledged.

SO... Here’s a story featuring Kevin that’s about someone seeing just how wonderful he is.

Pairing: Kevin Owens x reader

Word count: 3,627

Content advisory: swearing, references to sexual activity

You definitely need to be more diligent about moisturizing your legs. There’s a fine, powdery finish that lays over your dark skin like a kind of mildew or fungus and you can see a delicate web of white lines where your body cries out for hydration. You run your fingers along your tibia, wiping away the offending dust. It’ll be back in a few minutes but you like the feeling that it’s something that you can get rid of when you choose to. However, unless you plan on rubbing your fingers over your legs constantly, you need to be more diligent about moisturizing.

It’s one of those details that’s become kind of fascinating during the hours you’ve been sitting here, getting a headache from the endless background noise and recycled air of the hospital, consciously stopping yourself from turning into one of those strident Karens who get up in the nurses faces and yell because they want their loved one to take priority over everything else.

‘Loved ones.’

Even thinking the term makes you feel nervous, makes your dry skin shiver. You’re here in this hospital sitting vigil next to the bed of a man who’s been your friend for years, a sometime sparring partner, a frequent travel buddy, and a recent one night stand. But now he is very much a loved one and you wish he’d wake up from his medicated slumber so you could tell him.

“I love you, Kevin Owens.”

There are a lot of visible welts and bruises on his skin. There’s a contusion on his cheek that’s so swollen it looks like someone’s inserted a balloon under his skin, a bruise so dark you can see it through his beard, and various ugly yellow and purple marks all the way down his torso. You know because, after the nurse had left the two of you alone, you lifted up his chintzy medical gown to survey the damage.

You were allowed to do that, you figured. That’s one of the things that couples who loved each other never had to be shy about: showing their ugly parts and imperfections. If he would just wake up, you’d be happy to show him how dry and dusty your skin had gotten. If he’d just wake up.

More concerning than the bruises are the split on his wrist and the bandaged ankle that’s been elevated to reduce the swelling, and the two dislocated ribs. Those are things that can put a wrestler on the shelf for months. You know, because you’re just getting the chance to get back in the ring yourself after you somehow managed to break your ankle in two places at once jumping from the top rope to the floor, a move you’d done a hundred thousand times without incident. You don’t want that for Kevin, not when he’s been on such an upward trajectory lately, not while he’s been so able to remind the powers that be of what an incredible talent he is. That ankle is already held together with Mac-Tac and positive thinking. It would break both your hearts to see him sidelined now.

That’s how a woman in love reacts under these circumstances, you think. When her man is threatened, she becomes dangerously protective. She’d do anything possible and probably a few things that aren’t in order to save the person she’s in love with. And if the bastard would just wake up for a few seconds, you’d say that.

Tenderly, you run your fingernails through the wiry scruff of his beard, careful to avoid touching the bruised skin. You let one finger, your so-called ring finger (that’s never had a ring on it) over the corner of his lips. You consciously choose that finger because the human body exerts the least pressure on it. You want him to wake up but not because you’re poking at him. But you can’t resist touching him a little.

Even when you and Jey had been together, you and Kevin had been affectionate. It was one of the many points of conflict that you’d had with Jey, along with the fact that you swore so much that he was worried about introducing you to his mother, that you were a shit cook, and that your parents’ marriage had made you extremely dubious about the whole concept.

You might consider marrying Kevon Owens, though, because he thought it was funny that you swore, that you had a tendency to drool in your sleep, who thought you were beautiful when you woke up even though you had crusts in your eyes, who was fine with ordering takeout or trying to cook something together that occasionally worked out.

And maybe he would have asked if you hadn’t been so weird about everything. That was on you.

You wouldn’t have described Kevin as one of your closest friends but he was definitely a guy you got along with, dating back to before you’d both signed to WWE. You’d even fought each other a couple of times, the last one being a PWG event where you’d failed to tuck your head up properly taking his signature package piledriver and ended up with a concussion.

He’d apologized every time he saw you for six months, even after you were both in NXT, until you’d finally figured out a way to assuage his guilt about the whole incident.

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, big boy,” you’d cooed, “just because I couldn’t handle your package.”

Then that had become a huge joke between you, and everyone assumed it meant that something had happened, that the two of you had done the horizontal mambo and were trying to get over it. You’d almost felt offended because you knew Kevin wasn’t exactly thought of as a hot property. At the same time, there was something about his rough persona, the character of a guy who’d just take what he wanted that made you think of what it would feel like for him to grab your wrists and pin you to the bed and…

Well, the two of you were always just friends. You were both experts at banter and setting the other up for funny lines. And you even found it easy to travel together, which coworkers found pretty remarkable.

Normally, Kevin traveled with Sami, and if Sami wasn’t available, he traveled alone. But he’d come to accept you because he’d realized that any kind of travel put you to sleep almost immediately, which meant that he could have the peace he wanted and you could sleep without the guilt that other travel partners gave you for not doing your share of the driving, or at least being good enough company to keep them awake and alert by being good company.

An announcement sounds, exceptionally loud as they all seem to be, over the internal broadcast system.

“Housekeeping to triage with a wet mop and a bucket!”

You don’t even want to think what that means, but Kevin stirs just the tiniest bit and you’re excited that he might actually be coming out of it. Without even thinking about it, you lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek, close to his lips, like he’s Sleeping Beauty and you’re Prince Charming.

His facial muscles twitch a little but he remains unconscious. You are not Prince Charming.

About a year ago, you’d started dating Jey Uso. He was so incredibly hot to you that you could barely stand to look at him. He’d joked around with you all the time and rather than come up with your usual retorts, you’d been unable to do anything but giggle uncomfortably. Naomi, who was your closest friend at the time, had sworn up and down that the two of you were perfect for each other.

“Everything that I think makes Jey a dick compared to Jimmy to me makes it like he was meant for you,” she’d gushed.

And she was right. After half a dozen times she’d insisted you ride with them (which had forced you to stay awake), made you eat with them, gotten you to hang out with them, you were totally smitten and you had a pretty good notion the sentiment was mutual. One night, the four of you had gone bowling and you and Jey had just spontaneously started making out. Considering it was girls against boys, it had kind of ruined bowling night. No one had cared.

After that, you’d seen Kevin a lot less. You were a couple and you were more or less connected at the hip to another couple. But after eight or nine months things had started to go sour. And then Naomi and Jimmy got sidelined and it became obvious that you and Jey had stayed cool more or less for their benefit.

You’d been the one to end things. He’d been adamant that what you had was worth fighting for, whereas you knew that the two of you were just too different to mesh in the long term. Being funny and being wrestlers wasn’t enough. It had felt unreal that he’d fought so hard to stop you from leaving him when he hadn’t seemed that happy having you with him. Sometimes, you’d wanted to relent because the good times with him had been some of the happiest of your life. Sometimes, you’d wanted to relent because sex with him had been amazing. But you’d managed to stand your ground, even though your ground left you pretty lonely.

It wasn’t that Naomi didn’t understand, but once you’d broken up with Jey, things with her became awkward. And you were suddenly on lousy terms with Jimmy, who’d been a pal to you. Other friends were hard to talk to because you’d basically dropped them when you’d hooked up with Jey. But Kevin was happy to welcome you back. The two of you fell into the easy, comic interaction you’d had before and it was the first time in months you’d felt like yourself.

A couple of weeks ago, it had gotten weird. Well, not weird. It had gotten sexual. You and Kevin had been excited about the fact that you both had matches on TLC, the first time you'd been on the same PPV. You’d started with actual champagne, or at least whatever sparkling wine the restaurant had in your price range. Then you’d moved on to real wine for your celebratory dinner. Then there was this amazing cocktail bar that had materialized right across the street from your restaurant and it wasn’t like either of you was tired.

You’d been the one to make the move. You’d had a hunch that at some point, Kevin had developed a crush on you, something that had been put on ice during the time you’d been with Jey, but that had started to thaw in the time the two of you had been back to your old ways. You were two drinks into sampling what the cocktail bar had to offer when you’d dove in, smashing your mouth against his and pressing your tongue into his astonished mouth. The two of you had actually ordered a third round but had barely touched the glasses because you were all over each other, making out like horny teenagers before it occurred to you that you could just go back to your hotel and fuck like you were both so eager to do.

And fuck you had. Everything between the bar and being in the hotel room naked was a blur, aside from the fact that you’d been going at it so heavily in the back seat of the cab that the driver got irritated and threatened to throw you out. You’d had a jubilant time throwing each other from one position to another and it seemed like Kevin had made you cum in every single one of them. And yet nothing had been so satisfying as looking at his face when he finally orgasmed, like every part of him, body and soul, released at once. You’d pretty much passed out together, embracing.

When you saw him the next day at the Performance Center, he’d wrapped his arms around you and tried to kiss you in full view of other NXT and WWE personnel. You’d twisted away from him, unsure of what you wanted to do, but knowing you weren’t comfortable just having some new relationship in your life announced to the world without so much as a conversation.

“Sorry,” Kevin had said, head bowed, “was that not ok?”

“No it wasn’t ok,” you responded tartly. “I never said we were a couple or anything. We fucked. We’re friends and we fucked once. That’s it.”

Kevin nodded but it looked more like his head was bobbling after a hard kick. He’d slunk away and the two of you hadn’t seen much of each other in the days since. You’d wanted to talk to him but it seemed like every time you got close to him, he’d run away or rush to the safety of a group of male friends.

At first, you’d told yourself that you just wanted to tell him that you wanted things to go back to normal, but as you thought about things going back to normal, you realized that wasn’t what you wanted at all. Then, on the Friday night before TLC, looking at him as he staggered to the ring and declared to Roman Reigns that he’d take the WWE Universal Title or die trying, you’d realized that you were in love with him. You’d rushed to find him afterward but somehow, he’d eluded your grasp. But the thought remained at the front of your mind: you were completely in love with Kevin Owens.

It had pained you seeing the beating that he took at the hands of Roman and Jey. In theory, Jey was attacking Kevin to ensure that Roman, the head of his tribe, won. In reality, you knew that Jey was dishing out extra punishment because he believed that you’d broken up with him for Kevin. Ok, you had to admit that maybe he’d picked up on something you hadn’t. But it killed you seeing Kevin suffer because of it.

After the match, Kevin had once again eluded you, but that Friday, when he was helped away from his match, bleeding and bitter, you’d been waiting at the top of the ramp. You’d tagged along as they’d laid him onto the stretcher and attached an oxygen mask because they weren’t sure he was breathing properly on his own. And when the EMTs had asked if you were his significant other, you’d immediately nodded and jumped into the ambulance. Kevin had just enough time to look confused about your presence before the IV full of painkillers did its work and he slipped into blissful oblivion.

They’d kept him medicated while they did various scans and scopes to evaluate the extent of the damage he’d suffered. And so, hours later, you were still perched at his side, waiting for him to come around. The doctor had insisted that he was better off asleep since that allowed him to rest and heal. You nodded in understanding, even as you imagined yourself shutting the IV drop off so that you could wake him up and let him know what you were feeling.

You’d memorized every crack in the institutional-standard paint, every scratch on the tile floor, every nuance of the voice that periodically crackled over the loudspeaker, but you were determined that you were going to stay in place. You were going to tell Kevin Owens that you loved him the second he woke up and if he recoiled the way that you had when he’d tried to hug you.

After about a hundred and thirty-eight years, his eyelids flutter and his brown eyes open, still glazed with drugs. It takes a couple of minutes before he registers where he is and who you are and what’s happened.

“How bad is it?” he croaks, his throat crackling from dryness.

You pick up the plastic cup of water on the tray next to the bed and push the attached straw to his lips. He obediently sips, his eyes focusing on you as he recovers himself.

“You took a lot of hits. You weren’t really up to the cage match. So it’s not great,” you inform him.

He twists away from the straw and stares at the ceiling.

“I’ll be fine,” he groans, his neck muscles tensing. “I always am.”

“Yeah, well you’re not going to be fine for a while. So just drink water and relax.”

“I don’t know why you’re here. You don’t need to feel guilty because your boyfriend fucked me up and fucked me over. You can go home.”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend. And I’m not here because of him. I’m here because of you.” You gulp, realizing that your moment has come. “Because I love you.”

Kevin grimaces and his eyes flit towards you but he angles his head away.

He thinks you mean it like a friend, you guess. He doesn’t understand what you’ve just said. You grab his hand and pull yourself closer to him, so that you’re leaning halfway onto the narrow bed with him.

“I love you, Kevin. And I’m sorry I was stupid when you tried to hug me and I’m sorry that I’ve been stupid and haven’t realized it before. But I really love you.”

He doesn’t say anything but he looks at you with an expression of innocence and surprise and he pulls on you a little so that you’re forced to crawl onto the bed with him.

“I’ve been sitting here for about eight hours trying to figure out some wonderful way to say this to you,” you whine. “But now my ass is asleep and my eyes are burning and I can’t think of any other thing to say. I love you. I don’t know how long I’ve felt this way and I don’t know why I never acted on it. I just need you to understand-”

“Ok, ok, I get it,” he says with a sigh. “You love me. That’s great. I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m the one who thought it meant something when we had sex, remember?”

“Hey,” you retort, placing your hand against his jaw and turning him to face you, “I did too. I just didn’t understand what it meant at first.”

Your lips come together softly and then urgently, until he twists away.

“Ow,” he says, rubbing at his jaw.

“Yeah, you definitely took a hit there.”

“You know, every time I hit Jey, I was thinking of you.”

“You know, everyone thinks you deserve to be the champion, but me most of all.”

Giving him a coquettish smile, you allow your hand to trail down to his thigh, curving towards the inner part. You can immediately feel a twitch from the one part of him that is definitely not injured.

Sliding your hand under the thin fabric of his robe, you take hold of his member, already semi-erect, and begin stroking it, swirling your hand over the head and trailing your finger down the sensitive seam, reveling in the grunts and hums of pleasure this elicits from him.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

the sharp cry startles both of you enough that you sit up a little. The nurse, a middle-aged woman with wispy grey-brown hair pulled back from her care-worn face, stares furiously at both of you.

“You can’t be doing anything like that,” she says sharply. “And you can’t just go climbing on the bed.”

Face burning, you slide back into your chair.

“Now sir,” she says, haughtily turning her attention solely to Kevin and averting her gaze from the visible bulge under the thin bed sheet, “how would you describe your pain?”

“Painful,” Kevin quips, making you giggle a little.

“On a scale of one to ten,” she snaps.

“I’m a professional wrestler, so I’d say five was a normal day. Let’s call this a seven and a half.”

“So would you like the doctor to increase your dose of painkillers?”

“No,” he says thoughtfully. “I’d like the doctor to say it’s ok for my girlfriend to curl up in bed with me and take care of me.”

You smile broadly the second you hear him call you his girlfriend.

The nurse rolls her eyes and walks away but as she does, both of you notice her covering her mouth to conceal how hard she’s laughing. Without even thinking, you clasp hands and as you watch her leave the room, you turn to look at each other.

“You mean it?” you ask him.

“Mean what?”

“That I’m your girlfriend.”

“Is there something else you wanna be?”

“I just want to be the woman you’re in love with and the one who you want to come home to.”

“Well that’s a given.”

You lean in and kiss his cheek.

“Ow.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I hit a bruise.”

You let your lips trail over to his eyebrow and press a kiss there.

“Ow.”

“I didn’t notice the cut,” you gush apologetically.

He squeezes your hand and smiles at you, full of his incredible warmth, even though it’s tempered by the drugs he’s receiving.

“Well I love you,” he sighs. “And don’t you worry. I’m about a half a CC of this juice from dragging you onto this bed and having my way with you.”

You wind your hand and arm around his, so that you can pull him close enough for a kiss.

“I hope they up your medication,” you murmur, “just so that I can make you relax while I show you everything I want to do to you.”

#wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #kevin owens fanfiction #kevin owens imagine #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling imagine #wayward wrestle writing

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regrettablewritings · 4 years

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How They Spend the Quarantine (Tadashi Hamada, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Wade Wilson, Harley Quinn, & Benoit Blanc)

Just a fun (?? is that even responsible to say?) little thing I’ve been thinking about while slogging through this neverending hellscape of an extended lockdown.

Tadashi Hamada

When San Fransokyo was ordered to go into a lockdown, there were mixed feelings.

At first, Tadashi had a hint of optimism that this would mean more time to work on his prospective projects . . . But then he quickly realized that his projects mostly required tools and space offered by the campus. He could technically make do at home, but it wouldn’t quite be the same considering the garage was considered Hiro’s space.

Somberly had to clean out his lab and take whatever he could home.

Cue the rest of the group (sans Fred and Hiro) griping that at least his style of science could travel well enough to be somewhat continued off of university grounds.

Helps do delivery for The Lucky Cat. It helps him get out the house, and it’s simply helpful altogether.

Uses Baymax frequently to make sure everyone down to Mochi is sanitized, and nobody’s running a fever.

Nearly as frequent a sanitizer as Aunt Cass.

He starts most days prepared to be productive, only to stop and poke fun at Hiro, who’s almost always got his eyes trained on a video game.

Tadashi realizes three hours later that he, too, has been playing the game as Player 2.

Learned how to make facial masks with Aunt Cass. He already knew how to sew a little but frankly, making the masks made him realize he could have a new hobby on his hands. He’s currently trying to figure out how to make Mochi a little vest . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

B o r e d. A s. F u c k.

At first, he thinks everyone being forced to go home would work in his favor -- surely some rule-breakers would sneak out and try to bunk up with the Devil, right?

Well . . . Kinda? Once Chloe found out and scolded him about it, the idea died real fast. Plus, he realized he wasn’t quite fond of the possibility of being around someone who could pop up with a disgusting human sickness at any point during their time with him. Smearing their snot all over, coughing into his Egyptian cotton sheets . . . Nope, never mind, he is perfectly content having the penthouse to himself, thank you very much!

Except he’s not.

The poor bastard is going crazy by himself -- he’s just not used to being without some kind of company!

“At least in Hell, you could tell there were people around you based on the screaming!” he’d whine at his phone during his hourly video chat with Chloe.

Oh yes: The video chats. He tries to make them hourly with anyone he can get a hold of (namely, his long-suffering detective) but this clearly never plays out as he would like for it to: If he had it his way, everyone would respond in an instant and let him bounce mainly one-sided conversations off of them -- basically, what he did before all this went down.

What usually winds up happening is he gets hung up on or nobody answers him at all out of sheer annoyance over his clinginess.

Ironically, he’s not exactly crazy about when Amenadiel initiates those “family calls”. He insists it’s healthy and normal for them to do this and even calls Luci out on the hypocrisy, but let’s face it: Lucifer finds it obnoxiously gushy and weird.

He works his way into Linda’s video appointment books to help him cope with his boredom and admitted need for interactions. She doesn’t mind offering him counsel, but once Lucifer starts attempting to butt in during others’ appointment calls, it becomes an issue.

Has, at some point, gotten buzzed down in Lux and streamed himself attempting to pole dance. It drew quite a bit of attention.

He’s managed to gain a bit of a following and some companionship by streaming himself playing piano and singing. It’s not the same thing as having an actual audience, in his opinion, but it will have to do for now.

He’s never been one to binge with regards to TV shows or movies, but after the first week, he decided to binge watch every work action star Wesley Cabot was ever in.

Makes sure his staff still gets paid well. After all, he’s pretty well-off; there’s no need to make an innocent bartender’s life a living hell just because some other rich bastard fucked up, yeah?

Going off this, should he need to order to-go or anything, we already know he tends to tip as handsomely as he looks.

Dewey Finn

Kids were being sent to Horace Green on tuitions worth more than what some people saw in half a year -- of course the school was going to continue classes online!

While technically an afterschool instructor, the program is popular enough for parents to expect it to continue, and for Dewey to be kept on payroll.

Initially, he was pretty smug: He’s one if, if not, the youngest teacher-figure at Horace Green, so surely that means he’s more tech savvy than his older, stiffer coworkers, right? For once, he’s ahead of the curve!

Wrong: Figuring out Zoom was a headache, and then there was the realization of just how dependent his classes were on actual physical presence.

Plus, let’s be real: Dewey’s Internet connection was decent on its own, but craptastic when compared to those of his wealthier students. The lag is strong with this one.

Has definitely accidentally messed up the background on his screen. Somehow wound up with the Beetlejuice background and got so frustrated, he wound up keeping it there for two whole sessions.

In spite of the slight issues regarding lag, they pull through and try to resume lessons as best they can.

Tries to keep optimism by pointing out how this is a new form of entertainment they could be pioneers in.

Some days, it’s just going so wack or everyone’s so bleh that Dewey just assigns for them to watch a music documentary or something.

“Okay, kids, Mr. Finn’s hungover and clearly Summer is the only one who went to bed before 3am. So what I’m gonna have you do is watch . . . Prrrbbbb . . . Amadeus.” “How is Amadeus rock-related?” “It had a rock single, shut up. Anyway, we meet back next class and talk about what we saw, m’kay? M’kay. Over and out.”

Next class, he’s filled with dread as Summer produces an in-depth analysis of the relationship or lack thereof between character and the presence of talent as evidenced by Mozart’s abilities juxtaposed with his immature presentation and -- Dewey just can’t keep up. Sure, Summer, why not?

When he’s not busy teaching, however, he’s using the lockdown to work on some new material. Or just screwing around.

Otherwise, let’s be real, Big Boy’s living the high life in a place of his own: Playing video games (Animal Crossing, recently got back into Team Fortress 2, is trying to finally finish Ocarina of Time); eating a not very great diet; staying up late, napping at weird times; all in the name of quarantine.

If he orders delivery or to-go, he tips the best he can.

Wade Wilson

On one hand, murking never goes on lockdown. But on the other . . . He’s already technically not well, why risk that even with his mutation?

Oh, fuck I just remembered he lives at the X Mansion, never mind turn back turn back oh god give us free --

The situation is tense to say the least. There’s Wade, who’s sensible enough to know why the quarantine is in place . . . and then there’s everyone else, who knows Wade’s full of shit.

And by everyone, I “coincidentally” mean Colossus, Nega Sonic, Yukio, Domino, Cable, and Russ because the already small world of the sequel just got smaller by the fact that everyone is bound to a large but nonetheless single estate whose size has probably decreased from that of the First Class timeline.

You know those videos of the usual Quarantine Characters? Wade is somehow yet still unsurprisingly all of them, save for the frequent sanitizer. He raids the pantry frequently, sleeps at all hours, considers scooting a swivel chair down the halls exercise for the thighs, blasts video games, and so on.

Going back to the sanitizer thing, it’s not that he’s just not exactly known for being tidy. Colossus occasionally does drag him out of bed at a decidedly decent time (read: any time before 11am) to try and get him excited about cleaning up around the mansion, but it rarely ends well. At this point, the safest option is to just remind Wade to wash his hands for 20 seconds as necessary.

Has acquired a Switch and visits everyone’s island, often to bonk them on the head with a net or gift them with weird crap they don’t necessarily want. For the “friends” from Sister Margaret’s, he has somehow acquired their Dodo Codes. Nobody knows how he did this.

Facetimes Dopinder frequently.

“Precious, you’re the beacon of light in this cold, cruel world.” “I miss you, too, DP --” “Sshshsh! I’m having a moment . . .” *weeps*

On the many occasions he orders delivery, he tips by giving the delivery person something expensive from the mansion that they can sell. Prof. X is loaded, after all. Plus, he more or less isn’t even present in this universe, it’s not like he’s gonna miss anything he can’t see/probably doesn’t even know exists in his house. The problem is, Colossus does exist and does notice and does care when things go missing. Leading to many a delivery person getting caught up in shenanigans at that weird school in the boonies that they either don’t get paid enough to deal with or couldn’t pay to make up.

“Oh, pawn shops are closed?” asks the man who looks like a skinned avocado if avocados had human skin. “Don’t worry, lemme hook you up -- I know some guys --” “DEADPOOOOOLLL!!” roars a Russian accent from inside the house. “WHERE IS THE BRONZE BUST OF THE PROFESSOR!?” The poor delivery person’s eyes widen as they realize that the odd cargo they’ve been presented with apparently holds some value of some kind. But before they can flee, the avocado man blurts, “Shit! Leave the pizza in the bushes, look me up on my Youtube page, byyyeeee!!”

In his defense, Wade does hold up his end of the deal. Much like the Dodo Codes, nobody knows what strings he pulled. They just accept it and move on.

Harley Quinn

Surprisingly compliant.

She’s crazy, not stupid: Staying at home may suck, but what sucks more is making things harder on people who may not fair so well. Besides, she’s spent time in a maximum security prison -- she can handle staying cooped up in her own home. At least home has TV, books, and snacks.

When she hears people are still going out without masks or plotting to have a protest, she strongly considers firing up the old Fun Gun and popping the next sign-carrying Karen she sees with a tit full of cadmium yellow powder.

Seriously, stay the fuck home and fuck up your own hair; this is the perfect time to make mistakes with your looks, it ain’t like you got anywhere to be or anyone to impress.

“STAY THE FUCK HOME, BITCH!” P O W!!! “JUST GO GREY ALREADY, WE ALL KNOW YOUR HAIR AIN’T THAT COLOR ANYMORE, YOU’RE THREE YEARS FROM BEING IN THE GODDAMN AGE-BRACKET!!!” P O W!!!!

Only leaves her new apartment to grab groceries and to take Bruce on a walk. She actually refuses to steal or cause a scene during this shitshow because she may be a bad guy, but she sure ain’t evil.

So far, there haven’t been complaints about the fact that she’s walking a hyena down a public street. Maybe it’s because there’s hardly anyone out? Maybe it’s because Gothamites just can’t be bothered to be fazed by it . . . Or maybe it’s because she made him a little mask for his snout.

“In this house, we wash our hands for at least 20 seconds, kid.”

Lets the forest reclaim the earth, so to speak. She was never really shaving anything for anyone but herself before, but now it just seems especially pointless.

Spends almost every day in a kigurumi. To give her a semblance of routine, she has a pink bear one she calls her “Sunday Suit.” She doesn’t know it’s not Sunday because the days just blur but Cass just doesn’t have the heart to tell her; she seemed so proud of herself . . .

Like everyone else, she’s gotten Animal Crossing. She’s trying to create an all-preppy island with a few exceptions (Astrid = Aesthetic, m’kay?)

Tips nicely when ordering delivery.

Benoit Blanc

As young and spry in nature as the gentleman sleuth would like to think of himself, he would really rather not test the dangers of the situation and go about all foolhardy -- he’s staying home!

In theory, it’s only logical and therefore perfectly fine. But in practice . . . God, he wishes he’d invested more in things to occupy himself with when home.

It wasn’t that Benoit was never home, he just never felt too much of a need to invest in a fancy entertainment center -- the fanciest he ever got was an iHome.

The beginning of the quarantine served as the perfect time for him to read over case files, catch up on paperwork, even catch up on some reading he’d been putting on hold since God knows when due to cases popping up left and right. But that dried up quicker than he’d assumed, and that’s when he was faced with what a man of his mind dreads the most: Boredom.

Finally caved and decided to hook up Amazon Fire.

Expected to use the one-month free trial on Netflix and be just fine but once the lockdown in his area got extended and he realized he wasn’t going to be able to catch up with Crazy Ex-Girlfriend at this rate, he caves even further and buys a subscription.

Fully delights at the influx of platforms uploading Broadway recordings; when The Show Must Go On put on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, followed by The Phantom of The Opera, it was a treat, I tell you!

Sanitizes often, despite hardly ever leaving his house besides to have a smoke or to go grab groceries. Honestly, it’s less about cleaning at this point so much as it is finding something to occupy his focus when he feels there’s nothing else to so.

Takes zinc after every meal to help lessen the intensity of any ailment that might hit him.

Definitely owns a facemask. There’s a good chance it’s from Marta or one of his relatives, and there’s another good chance the pattern is as flamboyant as his clothing. He’s delighted.

Benoit tries not to rely too much on delivery, as he’d much rather just cook. On the rare occasion where tipping comes up, however, he gives as generously as he can.

Bonus: There’s a slight chance he might have acquired a companion to foster early on in the quarantine. Benoit hadn’t had a pet since childhood, a crime of which he was admittedly melancholic of his own involvement. However, his surprisingly busy lifestyle just wouldn’t suit a four-legged friend, now could it?

Well, now there’s time to. Besides, it would certainly ease the potential feeling of loneliness to have someone or something with whom he could interact with.

Admittedly, when shelters began encouraging people to invest time in taking home a companion, he’d been looking more for a comrade on the canine side of the spectrum -- but darn, if Duke wasn’t a handsome cat.

A lovely grey-and-white cat with eyes that matched his own, Duke has become the one Benoit monologues to (because in all honesty, the man is a performer at heart, in need of an audience to speak his mind to and portray a thought before). Plus, he doesn’t appear to mind it when Benoit finds himself belting out in tone-deaf notes to showtunes while washing the dishes: The mark of a true companion.

At this rate, he’s probably not going to keep fostering Duke when things calm down -- he’s probably going to just straight up adopt him.

Stay safe & healthy!

#just a dumb little thing #anyway stay safe and healthy #regrettablewritings #tadashi hamada imagine #lucifer morningstar imagine #dewey finn imagine #wade wilson imagine #harley quinn imagine #tadashi hamada #lucifer morning star #dewey finn #benoit blanc imagine #benoit blanc

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athicfa · 3 years

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Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #112 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #113 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #115 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #116 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #117 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #119 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #123

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #112

guys what the fuck did I just walk into with this cover

Christmas special!

people confusing Felicia for the Black Widow??? okay then AS IF you petty crooks are important enough to get Nat’s attention

Felicia goes hero again and stops a robbery, decided to take the mink coats they were stealing for herself, but then has another change of heart and gives them to homeless ladies to warm themselves. Your honor, I love her.

Peter has lost his fucking mind apparently. Just sitting in his apartment alone on Christmas, only has two cans of *classic* coke in his fridge, props the black suit up in a chair across from him and talks to it like it’s his only friend. Dear God Peter what’s happened to you.

He’s sleeping with a teddy bear MJ gave him though that’s hella cute.

OH MY GOD THE FAN LETTERS AGAIN. “It stinks. Peter David can’t write a script-” and then the reply from the editors is basically a quasi-polite way of saying “yeah what the fuck is up David?? fix your shit” LMAO WHAT

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #113

ANYONE WHO PUTS THEIR HANDS ON AUNT MAY NEEDS TO MEET ME BEHIND THE DENNY’S AT 3:00 WEDNESDAY I’M SICK OF PEOPLE BEING MEAN TO HER

Now people are confusing Felicia for Silver Sable which is somewhat more reasonable. She was on hiatus for a year so people don’t exactly know the Black Cat is back in action to be fair.

“Stunning objects don’t just drop down from on high” to which Felicia says “sometimes we do” as she jumps from the skylight so yeah she’s back to her original chaotically bastardish self and I’m glad.

she’s kicking ass again too it’s about damn time

Aunt May is so precious. A true blessing to the world.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #115

Felicia’s just vibin’. Living her best life. Becoming a modern day Robin Hood. We love to see it.

In all seriousness, it’s truly a great turnaround for her character. She feels closer to her original characterization before they made her an Awful Bastard out of nowhere for the sake of drama. Even if she’s just showing up in one full-page montage of her escapades per issue at this point (this time it’s her workout regimen), it’s a lot better than what they were feeding us across multiple pages. I’ll take these little character building short appearances over multi-page ooc nonsense any day.

Peter’s having a streak of Bad Luck now and she hasn’t even interacted with him again, she’s just admiring him from afar but even that’s not safe apparently. My poor baby :(

OH MY GOD

they haven’t even ran into each other but he thinks she’s somehow doing this on purpose

“oh my stars, after all this time, he’s still gorgeous” and “I’m sure he rarely thinks about me” meanwhile he thinks she’s trying to hurt him somehow and is going to Doctor Strange to see if she’s causing his bad luck or not oh no I guess I came here to hurt today

“It looks like she hexed me somehow, permanently, to get back at me. I don’t owe her anything. Do what you have to. She can look out for herself.” -Peter. Because Strange says that reversing the hex on him could affect the source of the bad luck in an unpredictable way. And Felicia’s right in the middle of her most dangerous heist to date at the moment. This is making me anxious, and what Peter said was heart-wrenching.

It completely reverses it to where FELICIA is having the bad luck now and this villain dude is now destroying her, meanwhile Peter is monologuing about how upset he is that she cursed him on purpose and that he’s pissed because she could have gotten her killed, meanwhile he’s just done that exact thing to her and on his end it’s on purpose :’)

Peter’s so upset that he asks if Strange can erase Felicia’s memories of him. Strange refuses and tells him to go talk it out with her because he’s being too “hard-hearted”.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #116

“102 Uses for a Dead Cat” I hate that title so much sdflkj

OOF she’s got a broken nose

Oh she’s definitely concussed too. She’s half conscious mumbling about Peter while this big beefy villain dude talks about how he just broke her nose and how he’s secretly a gentle guy and blah blah whatever idk this guy is weird

Oh no that was gross. Dude tries to take advantage of her while she’s dazed from her obvious concussion, so she kicks the shit out of everyone in the room, as she should.

“Bet you weren’t expecting to sing soprano” YES FUCK EM UP FE FE

Feral Felicia is Best Felicia

Peter’s mulling over whether he should go see her or not because he thinks they’re just gonna argue. Which is fair because he just argued with Aunt May and MJ so poor dude can’t take much more of that today.

She’s patching up at home and Peter shows up. She has NO issue with acknowledging Peter AS Peter, and does so even though he came to her as Spiderman, so hopefully that means the writers have acknowledged how stupid that whole debacle was.

She’s visibly hurt from her fight, broken nose and all, and he wants to know what happened but she keeps dodging the subject. Now he’s fessing up that he had Strange reverse her bad luck powers, she connects the dots in her head that he’s the reason she got trashed by those goons, and she’s PISSED. He wants to know what happened to her so he can help her but she won’t tell him, she’s too upset.

Felicia’s neighbors hear them arguing and they’re just like “ugh HER again” lmfao

“I’ll turn up the radio. I’ll show her what suffering really is.” GOD HER NEIGHBORS KILL ME

she tells him and HE ACCUSES HER OF LYING HOLY FUCK

It’s just because she’s raging at him though and the poor dude is obviously overloaded because this is the third person who was / is close to him that he’s fought with today. So no it’s not right of him to do that but dude I get it.

He leaves. He’s gone for a bit. Felicia’s crying because everything’s going wrong in her life, and just when she thinks it can’t get any worse, Sabretooth shows up and says he’s gonna kill her. Felicia lures him closer so she can ambush him with traps and shit hidden in her aparment. But right before he gets to her, in comes Spidey to the rescue! So wait, did he hang outside her apartment this whole time, or did he leave and come back?

They’re still arguing though because Felicia doesn’t know how to say thank you and firmly believes she could have handled that herself. Honestly, I love her to death, but with her luck powers turned against her, I doubt she could.

Good Guy Peter taking Sabretooth to the hospital because he ripped his own face off

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #117

so Felicia’s about to fight Doctor Strange? Yeah, THAT’S gonna go well.

this storyline has gotten so fucking juicy I love it

no Black Cat suit this time we fight wizards in our street clothes and protective masks to guard our broken noses

she’s breaking in through the window upstairs and figuring out how to bypass the winds just like in my headcanon about her visiting Bats I feel validated skljdf

she can see his astral form and apparently that’s a big deal to Strange (I don’t understand the significance but okay I’ll take it lol)

no fighting he wants to help her but she’s fussy and leaves. She’s having a bit of an existential crisis on the way home, until she figures out that she’s under attack by Foreigner himself, since all of his henchmen and hired assassins failed to take her out. He takes her down pretty quickly. She’s in no state to fight, and he’s a tough foe anyway.

they diagrammed Felicia doing an entire taekwondo 360 spin kick and I greatly appreciate that

he spared her but in return he wants her to help take down spiderman and she agrees so it’s time to cry some more

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #119

MJ complimenting Felicia’s boobs is not what I expected but here we are

I’m not sure how I feel about Felicia becoming a villain. I still don’t think she would EVER actively seek to hurt Peter, even if she’s indebted to this dude for sparing her life and calling off his assassins. But I’m interested to see how this plays out.

Sabretooth is back and hunting Peter and Felicia hasn’t forgotten that he tried to kill her either so she’s instantly out to throw hands with this dude, and she knows Peter’s watching it happen too. So is she actually going to try and hurt Peter later or...?

LMAO POOR SABRETOOTH JUST GOT HIS FACE FIXED AND FIRST THING SHE DID WAS RIP IT UP AGAIN SHE’S BRUTAL

She’s saving his life but he can’t sit by and watch her almost get killed for him AGAIN so of course Peter’s rushing to change into his suit and go help her.

SHE’S GONE FERAL AGAIN. LITERALLY. SHE SCREAMED AND BASHED HIS SKULL INTO THE PAVEMENT. WHAT A LADY.

He fucked up her leg but that’s nothing compared to what she just did to his face so fair game. Peter got there in time to see the last of it. She sees him and winks. That’s it omfg.

She’s hooking up with the foreigner now???? Press X to Doubt.

No but seriously everything feels in character until you realize it’s a ruse to lure Peter in to a sense of security around her again which is so weird. I feel like we’re veering off into ooc territory again which is sad because I was liking everything in this storyline up until this point.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #123

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENINGGGGGGGGGGGG

First page is Blaze saying that Foreigner hired him to take out both Peter AND Felicia???? But I thought Felicia was on Foreigner’s side now???? And we open with Peter saving unconscious Felicia from a fire?????? I AM CONFUSION

Felicia tearing Keating to shreds for trashing Peter which is great

I hate this suit and I hate this hair it can stay in the trash

her apartment blew up time to hang out with Peter

“We can’t sneak into my apartment while these girls are out here sunbathing” says Peter so Felicia proceeds to scream at the girls and scare them away. Peak Chaotic Bastard Felicia right now.

they’re making Felicia and MJ take digs at each other again because we can’t have nice things

she’s brought Peter to Foreigner now? Willingly? Unintentionally? IDK what’s happening

IS SHE OR IS SHE NOT WORKING WITH FOREIGNER WHAT IS HAPPENING

THEY’RE SHOOTING AT HER TOO IS THIS AN ELABORATE PLOY BECAUSE IT SEEMS SINCERE WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

oh she’s got her claws now that’s neat

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING

okay I’m done for now this is getting too contrived

#[comic commentary]#it started so well #got super juicy #and then completely derailed #sad because I was really enjoying the new storyline with Peter and Felicia accidentally ruining everything for each other #oh well at least they've given me a ton of Feral Bastard Felicia Hardy moments

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boringlibrarianthoughts · 3 years

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Destiel and the X-Files

Ok. So. We all know that obviously Supernatural has taken inspiration from the X Files. Many, many shows have. It’s one of the classics of modern television.

*long read*

In case you don’t know (somehow), it’s a sci-fi mystery horror show following two FBI agents, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, who come from different points of view and eventually become one of the great TV “ships.” The simmering, will-they-or-won’t-they tension between the two leads burned television screens for years. Years. It was always a question in viewers’ minds: will Mulder and Scully be in a relationship? Will they finally break through that tension and smooch? What would it look like when they finally get together?? OMG!

And... nothing really happened for many seasons - until an episode in season 7 entitled “all things.”

Now, it was... not what viewers were expecting. For those of you who don’t know, the episode immediately starts off with Scully getting dressed after spending the night with Mulder. No fanfare. No big love declaration. It just is. In fact, the episode in its entirety does something of a retcon: it suggests (quite heavily) that the two characters had actually been in a relationship for some time - just off screen. This was not the beginning of their relationship. Going back and watching previous seasons was different because now you knew Mulder and Scully were already together - you just didn’t see it. A later episode then suggests the two first started hooking up back in (I believe, it’s been a while) season 4. Holy heck. One of the biggest, most popular TV romances... and you don’t even see how it begins.

Now what does this have to do with Dean and Castiel’s relationship in Supernatural? A lot. Not necessarily on purpose on behalf of the writers, but parallels are definitely there.

Think about this: would it honestly be surprising if at some point you were told Dean and Cas were “involved” in some way in seasons 12, 13, 14, or 15? - And it just wasn’t shown on screen? I wouldn’t be at all. The implication is there - just as it was for Mulder and Scully. And that relationship proves you don’t have to see things with your own eyes in order for it to be true. The suggestion had been there for years with Mulder and Scully. I would actually argue the romantic tension vibes are stronger in Deancas than they ever were for Mulder/Scully (and I LOVE Mulder and Scully, don’t get me wrong).

I’m saying that it is definitely possible and logical to assume that Dean and Castiel may have “done something physically together” in seasons 12 or 13. I’m more iffy on seasons 14 and 15 because Cas then had the deal with The Empty hanging over him. And in season 15, the tension between the two was through the roof, so I doubt anything happened there.

Think about the infamous episode 12x19. That one has it all. Cas has been gone for a little while and returns to the Bunker only to have Dean be very upset-but-mostly-worried and it comes out as anger. Sam has previously acknowledged Cas as family and doesn’t respond as Dean does. Dean’s response is not a familial response. It just isn’t. Even Sam seems weirded out/concerned over how Dean responds to Cas’ return. Cas is hurt but mostly upset that he hurt Dean. Dean storms off to his room: a common romantic trope during a couple’s argument - you run off because you want your bf to follow you. When Cas knocks on his door, Dean already knows it’s him. He knows perfectly well it’s not Sam checking up on him. He went to his room specifically to make Cas chase after him, alone. This is where we get the revelation of the mixtape (this has been done to death, but remember, Led Zeppelin is the band Dean’s parents fell in love to). Dean chose this band purposefully and made the mixtape specifically for Cas.

What prompted the mixtape?

I believe Dean “took a leap” and gave it to Cas either after the whole deal with Cas killing Billie in 12x09 to save the Winchesters (Dean), or after 12x12 where Cas is dying and tells everyone “I love you (to Dean). I love all of you (to everyone else).”

Dean gave Cas the mixtape. And it’s definitely very possibly likely that this produced... more physical touching than is normal between two dudes who are just buddies. Cas then heads out on his own (a major fault of his) to figure out the problem with the pregnant Kelly. Dean is upset that Cas up and leaves and doesn’t communicate while he’s gone. Dean acts out and is hurt because he opened himself up and was vulnerable.

His response when Cas comes back to the bunker is a result of this. Again, his relationship with Cas is of a totally different nature than Sam’s relationship with Cas. It’s not just degrees of brotherly closeness - it’s literally a different kind of relationship altogether.

Then we get the whole scene with Cas trying to return the mixtape, etc. Dean and Sam are later talking about a potential plan, and Dean excitedly runs off to tell Cas about it (notice Sam’s face in that scene - what does he know about Dean and Cas? lol). The last time we saw Dean and Castiel interacting before this scene, Dean was acting like he’s still pissed. Then he’s running off like a puppy to go tell Cas about their plan? Cas, of course, isn’t there. And that’s where Dean gets upset again and complains to Sam: “He came into my room and played me.”

Hmm. What? Did something else happen between these two scenes? Is Dean just so soft for Cas he forgive him and moved on that quickly?

Could this be referring to the mixtape interaction? I guess so... but there’s nothing really “playing” about it. In fact, Cas was going to leave before Dean called him back - that’s not really a good plan for stealing the Colt: to talk to Dean and then leave the room.

Furthermore, how did Cas know where the Colt was? This whole scene is weird. Sam thought the Colt was in the safe, but Dean tells him he keeps it under his pillow, which surprises Sam.

We don’t see what happened after the mixtape scene. But we don’t need to. There’s enough suggestion to make some educated guesses. Personally? I wouldn’t be surprised at all if in this season, they either started a semi-consistent physical relationship or had a one-off that they never addressed again. If this happened, it would’ve also not included any love declarations of any kind; more just a desperate, physical need for each other. For so. many. reasons. these two dummies (affectionate) could not either figure out how they felt for each other or they weren’t able to express it.

As an aside, I think Cas wasn’t able to figure out what exactly the feelings were that he had for Dean. And Dean wasn’t able to express what he felt for Cas, but he knew how he felt.

The tension in the Dean/Cas relationship is toned down significantly in the later seasons. Why? Simply, the “thing” between them was settled in a way that was satisfactory to them both - at the time. They settled into what looks like easy domesticity: Dean didn’t have hookups season 13-15, and it’s clear he and Cas spend the majority of their time together in the bunker. Cas knows things about Dean that Sam doesn’t even know.

However, feelings have a way of rearing their ugly head, and this is the cause for the return of the tension at the end of season 14. Dean is upset, sure, but the way he lashes out at Cas (who really isn’t at fault and Dean knows it) is because Dean is once more frustrated by their relationship. He has feelings for his friend, and he doesn’t think his friend can even possibly return those feelings because his friend is not human.

All that is to say: you don’t need to be shown something on screen to know it happened. Implications and suggestions in the text are purposefully placed for you to fill in the blanks. This is a way for you to know more about the character without screen time being spent on it.

I will likely write more on this as this piece is getting a little out of hand - sorry, I meant to stick to the parallels in this one episode! And I keep getting distracted by Dean and Cas being so dumb for each other and it drives me crazy.

#spn #supernatural #spn meta #deancas #destiel #dean and cas loved each other #and they were too dumb *afffectionate*#to figure it out #ugh #mulder and scully are the best omg

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piraticalarchive · 3 years

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I’m always very curious about if ooc love comes first in writing partners or if the ic love does. were your affections opened by ic play...or were they completely separate to start? is rp sometimes a doorway to an actualization of feeling, or should they be considered opposite things entirely?

I just woke up from an impromptu nap while sitting up so I don't know if this is going to be a coherent answer or even an answer at all. There is so much variance in this kind of stuff, I think it changes from situation to situation - so my generic, overall answer would have to be that I don't know. All i can do is speak from my own experience and point of view. This is gonna sound so weird but all I can do is tell the truth and hope maybe it somehow answers your question. When I discovered fanfiction for the first time ever (like 4-6 weeks before I made hook's blog), I was reading through bbc robin hood stuff because i was literally in the middle of a rewatch and i had robin hood brain rot. I was so disappointed in the stuff available and was about ready to call it a day when I found a Guy fic that made me go - woah. Didn't like Guy in the show, couldn't stand the way he was written, thought he had a lot of potential - I loved the way this fic portrayed him. The writing itself just hit me like an oof. It was weird. I can't explain it. Makes no fucking sense.

Fast forward, I joined tumblr and followed amy's original meg blog from afar, never approaching. She left her and i was like .. damn :( because i had never had the courage to reach out and be like 'hey yes excuse me your writing strokes something inside of me' and we ended up writing with hook and guy like two weeks later maybe? I had no idea it was the same person. But the first time I read a reply of hers on Guy (not even to me) and we talked ooc I was sort of just like .. oh. It's like my heart was just - it's you. Hook and Guy were like an instant ship from the get go. They clicked it and it was just bam, a thing. We had to plot out their beginnings because we were talking three months later like "okay so we're writing them together but how the heck did they get there?? How did this happen?? What is going on?!"

I don't know. In the beginning I didn't have a crush, I didn't have what I'd call this moment of 'omg im in love with this person' - it was just this i'm home sort of deal from the first moment i added her on skype. It was the same feeling that was sort of behind all of Hook and Guy's interactions. Hook was just like 'yep. this is him. I think our relationship definitely grew from our writing because obviously we talked more and more out of character but like ??? I never once found myself blending the lines where there was no distinction of Guy from Amy and Hook from me - i don't think either one of us did. Eventually that home feeling did turn into something way more (obviously) but it was never rp related. I don't love amy for any 'guy' qualities she might happen to have and I don't think she likes me for my inner hook (if she does - jokes on her. that went away when i was medicated lmaooo). So in that regard, I don't think the blurred lines of ic and ooc are a thing in our situation.

I will say that, god help her, Amy took my au where I put every trauma I had into killian's character in a way to cope - and she never broke character once or let on that she knew, but when we would kik (yall remember kik? i just aged myself) she would do it for hours in that particular verse. Funny enough, for that specific reason, we say Killian and Guy in Guy's detective au are the pair that are the most like us and ... lmaooo jokes on us because they're the verse that doesn't always mesh super well together at all.

As far as everything else - writing can be a good way to figure things out. Does that mean it becomes an actualization? I don't know. I do know that you should never presume that in character interactions are equal to out of character interactions. I have best friends that I ship with and who I love - but I'm not in love with them. I have no feelings besides friendship, even when its on a deeper found family level. I also don't think just because you have romantic feelings together means you're gonna ship with the other person. Guy and Hook are like the only ones amy and I have pulled that off on. and prompto and ignis for a short bit. But every other attempt has never really gone anywhere. On any of our muses.

I think you owe anyone you write with/think you're developing feelings for the respect of keeping your emotions separate from your rp relationship and if things are tangled together and you can't tell if its ic and ooc lines crossing - remove yourself from the situation and perhaps write with them on a different muse until you know or give yourself space and don't write at all, focus on an ooc relationship.

this got long but i literally don't know how to say what i'm thinking so i rambled.

#meeting through rp is like ... idk??#you can't write your way into feelings #and you can't put feelings into a believable and well written 'ship' in every circumstance #because you ARENT those characters #idk if im making sense.#amy used to have a partner or two who asked stuff like this constantly like we were some kind of social theory #i'd be intrigued as to what her view point is lol

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shemakesmusic-uk · 3 years

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Wallice has shared her subversive new single 'Hey Michael'. 'Hey Michael' amplifies her blood-thirsty nature, a revenge anthem that finds Wallice turning into a worse villain than her erstwhile love interest. A song about toxic tendencies and how they manifest in our lives, 'Hey Michael' twists and turns around American Psycho imagery. Wallice labels "a revenge anthem for anyone who has encountered a gaslighting, manipulative person. It’s what I wish I would have said to all the ‘Michael’s’ I have met in my life. It can be substituted by many names, we all know or have met a ‘Michael’ though. Somehow the world revolves around them and they just can’t catch a break, because they never do anything wrong and it’s usually your fault. You should have listened to your gut instinct and swiped left on this Michael. This isn’t a man-hating song, it’s just something many people can relate to. Sometimes it’s embarrassing to admit just how bad a friend, date, or romantic partner was and a lot of the time, I would just smile and laugh off stupid remarks but when I think back, I wish I had told them off. But at the same time, my persona in the song is not the best person either. I literally say: I think I want to start a fight, which one is your girlfriend? The whole song is funny because I am so focused on how shitty Michael is that I don’t even think about how shitty I might be as well." Directed by Phil Stillwell, the video takes place at a house party, with Wallice interacting with various 'Michaels' before her behaviour spirals into something much, much worse. [via Clash]

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In the same vein as Massive Attack’s suburban groove and social commentary in the mid 90’s, KITA have captured the rhythm and heartbeat of suburban Pōneke; a city abuzz with a vibrant music and dramatic performance scene in their brand new track and official video, ‘Private Lives’. Weaving together elements of vintage rock, pop and soul, and warm hints of synth, KITA have created a skin-prickling piece of magic with ‘Private Lives’, a deeply beautiful track penned in 2020’s lockdown, that delves into the unknown of what happens when the blinds are shut – the parts of life that are unseen by others. "Standing from my kitchen window during lockdown in Aotearoa, sinister thoughts entered my mind about what could be happening behind closed doors for people”, says front-woman Nikita 雅涵 Tu- Bryant. The video tells the story of a father and daughter’s relationship amongst snapshots of everyday life and its monotonous anonymity, while things aren’t always what they appear on the surface. Late at night the father can finally reveal his true self, adorning makeup and sequins, only to be spied by his daughter. The two then share a special moment of dressing up and dancing together, a true celebration of individuality, self-love and the beauty of self-expression.

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'Just Chemistry' is the third single from Dance Lessons, a London-based, female-fronted and produced trio, creating what they define as Serrated Pop. 'Just Chemistry' is a delicate hymn to the unspoken. Dance Lessons return with their signature sound – minimal production, sleek vocals and intricate arrangements. Ann says: “'Just Chemistry' is about the over-complication of our relationships. It’s about the things that are left unsaid in-between the awkward text messages and conversations, and how the absence of knowing can be misinterpreted as doubt. Last year was a difficult one. For a long time, I felt at the mercy of my emotions. I doubted where things were going. I lived in the future and found it hard to commit to the present. But these moments of not knowing can be equally thrilling and beautiful. And that’s what the song is about: finding beauty in the unspoken. In most cases, it’s chemistry that makes us fall in love. Things end, all is temporary. Let’s not go to war with one another over it.” Nat says on the video: “A friend told us about this weird and wonderful house in North London that feels a little like stepping into an acid trip. We obviously wanted to check it out. It’s completely surreal, all over the place (in a great way) and generally eclectic, which felt inherently us. We instantly wanted to do something there and asked the owner for permission to shoot a music video. We filmed during lockdown and were let loose embracing all the oddness of it. Ann also designed and created the outfit she wears in the video, something she does with most of her wardrobe. It was shot, directed and edited by our hugely talented friends Ben Hanson and Simon Frost from Borderland Studios.”

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Returning with her first offering of the year, North London’s rising star Laurel Smith is ready to reveal her anticipated new single, ‘Out the Cage’ accompanied by an action packed and thrilling cinematic style music video directed by Jeremie Brivet and Jai Garcha. Sticking to her winning recipe of moody, dark, electro-pop production paired with effortlessly edgy tales of narrative lyricism, ‘Out the Cage’ is the next huge single from the young, innovative artist that is sure to follow the same trajectory of success as its predecessor, ‘Game Over’ released late last year. A songwriter and recording artist, Laurel Smith has been writing songs since the age of sixteen. With each single she’s released, Laurel has continued to adapt her sound and aesthetic, consistently honing her craft and evolving her brand. She has carefully carved out her place in an ever crowded industry and proceeds to turn heads at every corner. “‘Out The Cage’ is a song about breaking out from your constraints, both physical and mental. Although it can be interpreted in any way, when I wrote it I created a story around a bored housewife, falling out of love with her husband, she fantasises about tying him up and leaving him to be a badass assassin in a video game type world, roaming the city at night and living a life of unpredictability and excitement”.

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Hailing from the Philippines, singer-songwriter Laica is coming off a breakout 2020. Now the 21-year-old is gearing up for the release of her debut album I’m so fine at being lonely. The first single off the project, 'love u lately' is here, accompanied by a music video directed by Cooper Leith. 'Love u lately' is a relatable and infectious track. The song revolves around dating, understanding mixed signals, and the confusion that surrounds that world. Lyrically, Laica walks us through her experiences here, voicing her thoughts and frustrations about someone who she just can't seem to read right. Production-wise, the track is carried by a pulsing synth and a groovy bass. Together, the track feels upbeat. The vibe created by the production stands in contrast with the more emotional lyrics, making the track complex and interesting. The music video takes the concept of 'love u lately' to the extreme, in a fun and playful way. Laica is seen capturing her dream boy and attempting to use witchcraft to finally win him over. The video has a very DIY feel, which could serve to add to the reliability of the track. It’s a great extension of the track and taps into everyone’s most fantasy-driven realities. [via Earmilk]

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At first, Emily C Browning wasn't sure what to think. Spurned, rejected, and cast aside, she was angry, furious, and - at times - utterly bereft. Usually she'd utilise songwriting as a vessel for her emotions, but when she was so conflicted, and feeling so negative, that it just didn't enter her mind. The Christchurch, New Zealand artist needed to take a step back, and when she located some perspective, she was ready to act. New single 'I Wasn't Into You Anyway' is a soaring slice of revenge, one that finds Emily C Browning taking full control of her music. Her first solo production credit, its reminiscent of those surging, empowering Maggie Rogers bops, while also containing similar DNA to Sharon Van Etten's work. Lyrically, it's absolutely her own creation, with Emily leaning on those often-hidden feelings. She comments... "Everyday for a month I wrote in my journal: I want to write a song about feeling rejected. But I couldn’t figure out how to keep it light and funny, it can be quite a painful topic and I didn’t want to sound too heavy. But I kept working on it everyday and came up with this song. I then spent another month recording it, trying to capture a sound that stayed upbeat and playful. I put so much time and energy into the song that I ended up completely forgetting about the person who rejected me in the first place (honest, I swear)." [via Clash]

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Alt-pop force Holly Humberstone returns with new single 'Haunted House'. The songwriter's potent debut EP Falling Asleep At The Wheel was a sensation, racking up more than 100 million global streams. A bona fide phenomenon, Holly returns with a single that displays a more nuanced, reflective side to her work. 'Haunted House' digs into childhood, and looks at the way memory can frame the way we construct our identities. She comments: "I wrote this song about the old and characterful house I grew up in. The house is such a huge part of who I am and our family. With my sisters and I moving out and living separate lives, coming home feels very comforting and one of the only things keeping us all connected." Playing with concrete imagery and no small degree of invention, 'Haunted House' connects art to life in an enchanting fashion. She adds: "The house is almost falling down around us now though, and we’ve realised that pretty soon we’ll be forced to leave. There’s a cellar full of meat hooks and a climate so damp mushrooms grow out of the walls. Loads of people have probably died here in the past but I’ve always felt really safe. It’s like a seventh family member. It’s part of me." [via Clash]

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In 2019, the Boston-born and Brooklyn-based indie rock album Crumb released their debut album Jinx. Crumb haven’t yet announced plans to follow that album up, but they’re definitely working towards something. Last month, the band came out with a one-off single called 'Trophy.' Now, they’ve followed that one with two new tracks, and they’re both winners. The new songs 'BNR' and 'Balloon' both fit nicely into Crumb’s comfort zone. The band’s sound is a rich, sophisticated take on psychedelia, with blissed-out lead vocals from Lila Ramani and with some great funky drum action. The band co-produced both songs with Foxygen’s Jonathan Rado, who’s done great recent work with people like Father John Misty and Weyes Blood and the Killers and who knows how to make oblique ’70s-style pop sound good. But Crumb themselves deserve a ton of credit for coming up with a sound this layered and weird. They’re the rare circa-2021 band who might remind you of Broadcast. In a press release, Ramani says, “‘BNR’ is an ode to my favorite colors. I had a weird obsession with those colors in winter 2018-2019 and felt like they would follow me around everywhere I went." 'BNR' also has a cool music video. Director Joe Mischo starts the clip off as a hallucinatory reverie, but he turns it sharply towards horror at the end. [via Stereogum]

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Last year, Limerick poet/musician Sinead O’Brien released her debut EP, Drowning In Blessings. It was a unique work, a handful of songs featuring O’Brien’s sing-speak over spindly, post-punk guitars. It garnered O’Brien a bit of buzz overseas, and it left you wondering where she might take her music from there. Now, O’Brien’s back with a new song called 'Kid Stuff.' “‘Kid Stuff’ shows up all different tones on different days,” O’Brien said in a statement. “There’s something alive in it which cannot be caught or told. It is direct but complex; it contains chapters. This feels like our purest and most succinct expression yet.” Like Drowning In Blessings, 'Kid Stuff' found O’Brien working with Speedy Wunderground mastermind Dan Carey. Musically, it hints at a level up moment for O’Brien. There was something alluring and jagged about Drowning In Blessings, but 'Kid Stuff' places her usual approach over a song that is surprisingly groovy — maybe even a little danceable. It comes with a video directed by Saskia Dixie. [via Stereogum]

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Das Beat are made up of German actress and vocalist Eddie Rabenberger and Agor of Blue Hawaii. The pair have just shared their first single 'Bubble' online now and are set to release their debut EP Identität on June 4 via Arbutus Records. Born in Berlin during 2020’s legendary lockdown, Das Beat seeks to blast both boredom and boundary. Dabbling in German New Wave, Italo Disco, Indie & Dance, their sound is unified by vocals from Eddie Rabenberger, sung in German and English. Amidst playful lyrics one finds a strong underlying pulse (das “beat”), pinning down the duo’s meandering atmospherics, dreamy synths, guitars and percussion. The duo is half-Canadian and half-German. Agor (of Blue Hawaii), moved to Berlin from Montreal in 2018. Eddie is a theatre actress originally hailing from a small town in Bavaria. Together they find a strange but alluring symbiosis - like Giorgio Moroder meets Nico, or Gina X Performance meets The Prodigy.

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St. Vincent has fully embraced the ’70s aesthetic for her retro-sounding new record, Daddy’s Home. Now, she’s diving headlong into the animation styles of the era with the video for 'The Melting of the Sun'. Presented as a “betamax deluxe release” rip from “Candy’s Music Video Archives,” the clip blends live action shots of St. Vincent herself with the wavy, intermittent animation frames any Schoolhouse Rock student is familiar with. The psychedelic lines fit a song called 'The Melting of the Sun' perfectly, as do the drawings of the legends mentioned in the song’s lyrics like Nina Simone, Joni Mitchell, and Tori Amos. St. Vincent co-directed the clip with Bill Benz, while Chris McD provided the animation. [via Consequence]

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Bay Area slowcore trio Sour Widows have released a new single, 'Bathroom Stall,' from their forthcoming EP Crossing Over, which they announced last month with its title track. The song’s build-up is subtle and poignant like Sufjan Stevens, but Maia Sinaiko’s evocative, sweeping vocals are one-of-a-kind, and the lyrics are graphic and tragic: “Do you remember it like I do?/ Your lips turned blue I had my fingers in your mouth/ And I couldn’t get them out.” Sinaiko said of the song: "This song is about a relationship I had with someone who struggled with addiction, who very tragically passed away three years ago while we were together. It’s about some moments we shared, and how it feels to walk around carrying that person and those experiences with me while the world stays normal. I wrote the song because I wanted to preserve and document what happened to me. to write out the scary stuff and just let it sit there forever. I think its funny that its called 'Bathroom Stall' and that it has that image in it: the song goes from heavy and dark to ordinary and totally pedestrian in a sentence, which feels absurd. And that’s kind of what it’s like to grieve. That’s kind of what’s hard to explain about grief, how absurd it is. Part of you goes to a different planet and part of you stays walking around like an alien on Earth, going to the bathroom and looking at the moon and shit." [via Stereogum]

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As JUNO-nominated singer Kandle Osborne prepares to launch her new project, Set The Fire this spring, she shares the album’s third single, 'Misty Morning.' From being penned on a napkin while abroad to a Vancouver studio, 'Misty Morning' is a sonic journey that echoes soulful vulnerability and an honest reflection of realizing true love. For the video, Kandle reconnects with 'Honey Trap' director, Brandon William Fletcher, to create classic 40s noir-inspired cine-magic, filmed along the Vancouver coastline and within the lush landscape of Stanley Park. Kandle says: “‘Misty Morning’ is my first real love song, captured on a napkin while in Ischia, Italy when I was truly happy. My songwriting usually comes from a place of turmoil and catharsis, but this was simply a snapshot of a perfect, vulnerable moment. In recording it, I wanted to hide behind lush orchestration, but my producer/ best friend Michael Rendall had other ideas. He wanted to strip it down to just piano & a single vocal to take me out of my comfort zone and re-capture the open-hearted feelings I had while writing it. The song and the recording both hold for me a time when I dropped my guard for pure authentic love in spite of all my flaws and failures. In that moment, I felt my true value as a whole person for the first time.”

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On 'Vertigo,' Alice Merton’s first single of 2021, the 27-year-old describes the long road from uncertainty back to self-confidence. It emphasizes the unrest that seizes her again and again, the thought: “Why can’t I just let it go?” These contradicting thoughts and emotions that are so familiar to all of us sum up to an overwhelmingly positive effect - 'Vertigo' leaves you empowered rather than anxious: A powerful indie pop arrangement with distorted guitars, plus Alice Merton’s crystal-clear voice. The result is reminiscent of the British Invasion, with no air of self-doubt. With its energetic live qualities, 'Vertigo' feeds an appetite for summer festivals and concerts that will definitely return at some point. Largely responsible for this is the Canadian producer Koz, a multiple Grammy nominee, who has worked with Dua Lipa ('Physical') among others. Here, too, he adds on to what has already made Alice Merton stand out from the crowd in the past - her classic pop appeal - with an uncompromising and indie attitude. This enables Alice to take another big step: She equally encourages a shaken generation and herself that there will be easy summers again. That you can dance again and lie in each other's arms. That it is absolutely fine to have many facets, to not always be clear, and that strength and weakness are not mutually exclusive.

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Canadian artist Olivia Lunny's new release 'Sad To See You Happy' is a shamelessly poppy track centering an acutely relatable break-up narrative. The Canadian artist follows up her breakthrough success with a bouncy cut to soundtrack 2021’s long-awaited spring. There's a relatable tale of break-up at the heart of the gloriously poppy new single, belied by percussive instrumentation that creates a warm, nostalgic feel. [via Line Of Best Fit]

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After sharing the single last month, Charlotte Adigéry is now revealing the brand new video for ‘Bear With Me (and I’ll stand bare before you)’. The first new music since her 2019 debut EP Zandoli, Charlotte says of the video, “The video is about being confined thus confronted to the way we live. The cruel irony of having the privilege of standing still, questioning and observing my life in all safety while others are fighting for theirs. On the other hand, the video is about trying to stay sane while feeling that the walls are closing in on you. Embracing boredom and finding joy in the little things in life.” Director Alice Kunisue adds, “When I listened to Charlotte’s song and what it meant for her and Bolis, I wanted the video to visually encapsulate that feeling of being stuck inside and confronted to our deeper selves while paradoxically sensing the chaos going on in the outside world without being able to do anything about it. Choosing to film an apartment room from one single angle was a way to reflect that narrowness of thought that we all experienced, but also a constraint that allowed us to explore and develop visual ideas within a narrow system, in a way having to think only inside the box, which artistically was a fun challenge.” [via DIY]

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Millie Turner has shared a video for ‘Concrete Tragedy’. It’s a cut from her upcoming mini-album Eye Of The Storm, set for release on May 16, which also features a rework of breakout song ‘(Breathe) Underwater’. “This video is a visual representation of dancing on your own,” she says of the clip. “Combining the many parts of who we are when we’re by ourselves, I wanted it to feel like you’re entering a world of imagination that comes alive when we express ourselves.” [via Dork]

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Doja Cat and SZA have come together for a new single called 'Kiss Me More.' When the song was announced Wednesday night, the internet flipped out, which is to be expected with these two — especially Doja Cat, who is regularly going viral these days for all kinds of reasons. When it comes to collaborations, she always finds the best people. That includes Saweetie, who appeared on Doja’s recent 'Best Friend' but then claimed that it was released against her wishes. Given SZA’s long history of public frustration over TDE Records holding back her new album, she is probably happy to have any new music out. Despite recent single 'Good Days' hitting the top 10, her restless fanbase is still awaiting a follow-up to 2017’s iconic Ctrl. 'Kiss Me More' is the first single from Doja’s new album Planet Her, scheduled for release this summer. It returns to the disco vibes of Doja’s #1 hit 'Say So,' this time with no apparent resemblance to any Skylar Spence song. [via Stereogum]

#videos of the week #wallice #kita #dance lessons #laurel smith #laica #emily c. browning #holly humberstone #crumb #st. vincent #sour widows #kandle #alice merton #olivia lunny #charlotte adigery #millie turner #doja cat #sza

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

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Let’s Review || Chapter 6

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark. extra warnings for abduction and creepy interactions with a minor.

God, Penny had a brutal fucking headache. The light coming through the window meant that once again she’d forgotten to pull the curtains shut before passing out on the couch. She must’ve fallen asleep crying again, it would explain the serious dry mouth and pounding head.

“Peter?” She called out, groaning in pain immediately after, “augh… Peter, are you getting ready for school?”

There was no reply and she couldn’t hear him shuffling around in his room, which was a bad sign. She must’ve forgotten to set her alarm and Peter had probably slept through his own. Swallowing hard, she raised her arms and dug her palms into her closed eyes.

“Peter, you gotta wake up babe,” trying to raise her head made a wave of nausea roll through her body and she clapped a hand over her mouth just in case.

She might’ve been sick, could it be food poisoning? If she was sick, Peter was probably also sick. That must’ve been why he wasn’t getting ready for school. Oh, fuck she needed to call into her job at the daycare, there was no way she’d be able to deal with screaming babies with low immune systems for six hours. Blindly reaching down over the edge of the couch, she furrowed her brow in confusion when her hand didn’t hit the floor. The couch was low and uncomfortable, she was barely off the floor at the best of times.

Prying her eyes open was going to hurt and she really, really didn’t want to invite that level of pain into her life. Assuming her sense of space was off because of her sickness, she just reached further down. And further. And further. Until she reached too far and pitched herself off the edge of the couch. Hitting the ground was bone jarring and stirred a memory just out of reach, of falling and slamming her head into the hard wood flooring. It wasn’t an usual occurrence, she fell and hit her head all the time, but the carpet she landed on was weird. Super weird, they didn’t have carpet in their apartment.

Penny’s eyes snapped open, letting in the brutal light and also the terrifying revelation that she wasn’t in her apartment. She hadn’t fallen off her couch. She’d fought with Tony Stark in her apartment and smashed her head against the ground before they stuck a needle in her neck. They, there had been a second man who’d come out of nowhere.

Immediately she forced her knees under her and pushed up to her feet. She didn’t know whether it was the blow to the head or the drugs but her entire sense of balance was off and she went careening into the wall, smashing her head for the second time in what she assumed was a single day, against a shelf. A yelp and a crash later she was on the floor again, both hands clutching the side of her head that had gone into the corner of the wood. Was she bleeding? Fuck she was probably bleeding.

“Oh sweetheart,” she hadn’t heard a door open or any footsteps but suddenly a pair of heavy arms came around her, lifting her carefully off the ground and setting her on what she now realized was a bed, “stay still, you’re bleeding. J, call Bruce, Penny might need stitches.”

“Right away, sir. He asked me to inform you he must run to the medical wing to retrieve supplies but will be in shortly. ”

Her eyes were clenched shut, against the pain and the fear, but Penny recognized Tony Stark’s voice immediately. He was sitting next to her, holding her tight to his side with a towel or something pressed to her bleeding wound. He was making a hushing sound, petting her head with his unused hand.

“Off,” she choked, squirming in his hold, “fuck—get, get off of me.”

“Calm down, Penny—”

“No!” it came out as a shriek and she curled her hands into fists, lashing out in his general direction, “get off of me you fucking bastard! Get away from me!”

One of her hits must’ve landed because he yelped abruptly, arms going slack from where they’d held her and she launched herself off the bed. Once again she realized her entire sense of equilibrium was gone and collapsed on the floor, forcing her eyes to stay open despite the nausea and started to crawl towards the only door she could see.

“Damn, Penny, that’s one hell of a left hook,” arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her up and backwards, causing her to screech in fury and indignation, “Don’t make me tie you up, sweet girl, cause I will.”

“So, I take it she’s not a docile kidnapping victim?”

Her head snapped around, eyes landing on a man now standing in the doorway in shock. He was about Stark’s age, hair graying slightly about the temples and some wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes.

“She’s a spitfire, Brucie bear, a real shit kicker,” Tony grunted as he forcefully manipulated her onto the bed again, this time keeping her in his lap with her extremities restrained by his own, “you’re so small, where is all this force coming from—Jesus!” he ducked his head to the side swiftly, just barely avoiding the back of her skull slamming into his nose.

He brought his arms up, still holding her wrists, and tucked her head tightly between his shoulder and neck while keeping her wound exposed for Bruce to look at.

“Her head went into the corner of the shelf over there, I’d show you the spot but my hands are full at the moment.” The bastard was making jokes . She had been drugged and kidnapped and was being bodily restrained after waking up in a strange room and he was making fucking jokes .

Penny hadn’t considered ‘murder’ to be a logical solution to her Tony Stark problem but maybe it should’ve been her go to. Actually, now that she thought of it, there was still time.

“Wow, I can literally hear how badly you want to kill me right now,” Stark pressed the side of his face against hers, “what kind of expression is on her face right now Bruce? Does she look like a murder kitten?”

“She definitely doesn’t look happy Tony,” he rolled his eyes, leaning against the bed to get a better look at Penny’s scalp, “I’m sorry we’re meeting like this Penny, I’m Bruce. Any bumps and bruises around here go through me, anything serious needs to go to medical though. Other than this, how are you feeling? Dizziness, nausea?”

For a moment, Penny almost answered just based on instinct. She hadn’t been to the doctor in ages, but he gave off the same vibe as a pediatrician. Instead, Penny pressed her lips together and averted her eyes, not that she’d been able to see him well with her head pinned against Stark’s neck anyway. Bruce hadn’t been one of her kidnappers but he was obviously, painfully complicit. He knew everything and wasn’t trying to help her escape.

“Come on baby, you can tell Bruce,” Stark tucked both of her wrists in one of his hands and brought the other up to cup her face, stroking his thumb along her jaw line, “he just wants to make sure you’re okay. It looked like she was having trouble staying on her feet—J, any observations?”

“ Ms. Parker seemed to wake in acute pain, movements suggest nausea and light sensitivity. Potential for dizziness and vertigo, and a loss of balance. ”

“Hm, she might have a concussion. Tones, you said she hit her head, right?”

“Twice now, once at her apartment and just now off the shelf.”

“Let’s get her to medical, I want to run a CT scan just in case,” Bruce shifted to bring himself into Penny’s line of vision, “I’m sure you have a concussion. Usually, I wouldn’t bother with a CT scan at this point, but since you hit your head twice in such a short period of time I want to make sure there’s no bleeding in your brain. Have you ever had a CT scan before?”

A moment of silence passed before Tony sighed, pressing his thumb firmly into the joint of her jaw, “answer, Penny.”

The threat in his movement was clear and Penny swallowed heavily, “no.”

“Good girl,” a slow, victorious smile crossed Tony’s lips at her response and he moved his thumb, continuing to stroke her face softly, “J, call the soldiers, we’ll need help to transport her safely and I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to assist.”

“They’ve been pacing the living room for the last three hours, I’m sure they’ll be here in half a minute, tops.”

Soldiers. Tony Stark employed soldiers. Of course he did. He had the government and the police in his pocket, why not the fucking military too. It was all a goddamn conspiracy and holy mother of God, Penny’s head was throbbing so bad.

She must’ve made a noise or something, because Stark was back to cooing at her a moment later, turning his head to nuzzle his face against hers, “we’ll get you some medicine soon, angel, just hang on.”

Penny pressed her eyes shut tightly, wishing he’d stop with the pet names. What was it with assholes and pet names? They’d been effectively ruined for her, if she ever got out of this she’d make everyone call her Penelope forever, no exceptions.

The door to the room opened with so much force it crashed into the wall with a bang. If she hadn’t been so tightly restrained in Stark’s grip, she would’ve jumped. Instead her muscles just went rigid and she prepared to be manhandled further as they brought her to ‘medical’.

“Oh, doll,” why was that voice so familiar, why did it feel like she’d been electrocuted by a 50-volt battery, “our poor baby.”

“Just wait until she tries to beat the shit out of you, Barnes, you won’t be cooing over her then,” Stark snorted, turning Penny’s face again and tapping her nose, “she’s a Hellcat.”

“She’s tried to beat the shit out of you multiple times now, Tony, and you’re still ‘cooing’ over her,” Bruce shot back, his voice fond.

He laughed and stood up with her still clutched in his arms, causing her eyes to pop open as her equilibrium shifted for the 80 th time that day. Penny’s head lolled slightly, until her eyes caught sight of the two men moving towards her.

She wasn’t sure when the culmination of her bad luck would come, when it would all wrap up in a grisly end. Soon, hopefully, because as the blows kept coming she wondered if she was going to be able to keep up.

Bucky and Steve, from the fucking coffee shop, were apparently the soldiers Stark had summoned to assist with her transit. If she’d been rigid before, it was nothing compared to the way her muscles pulled taught at the realization. A complete, overwhelming sense of fight or flight began pulsing through her veins—it had been a setup, everything at the coffee shop had been staged.

“So, the bad news is that I think she recognizes you,” Stark’s voice was full of laughter as he felt her begin gearing up for a throw down, “the good news is I think if I let go she’d hit the floor before she managed to hit one of you.”

No, Penny thought carefully, the bad news was that she might’ve been a dumbass but she wasn’t stupid enough to try to fight four men at the same time while half incapacitated. The bad news was that Penny had been a real shit kicker when she was in high school and maybe hadn’t grown out of it quite as well as she thought. The bad news was that at some point, they were going to let their guards down.

Penny was a little ball of chaos, but every inch of her was patient. She could wait.

***

The paranoia had started setting in around noon, when Penny had stopped answering his text messages abruptly. It would’ve been one thing if she’d been at work, but Peter knew she’d called out.

She was unusually available even at work, so it was extremely weird of her not to answer when she had the day off. By 1pm he’d placated himself by deciding she must’ve been getting her nails done like she’d said earlier and couldn’t answer because her hands were busy. But it didn’t take that long to get a manicure and when another hour passed without an answer, Peter felt his chest begin to tighten.

It was their last real day together for what could be forever. She should’ve been glued to her phone the way he was, desperate to live in his pocket for just a little while longer. He wanted to tell her about the gross apple he’d bought during lunch and how the soap dispenser was out in his favourite bathroom and ask if she knew about geomagnetic reversal.

By the time school was out, he heavily considered skipping academic decathlon practice to just go straight home. He’d be shipped off to Oregon in a few days anyway, so what was the point? But he forced himself to go anyway, if only to spend a little more time with MJ and Ned. And Flash wasn’t there, since MJ had punched him so hard in the stomach earlier that the asshole puked. Peter’s cheek still twinged from where Flash had punched him over the stupid chemistry test.

Practice had stretched on half way past forever and he’d hugged both of his friends for a solid minute before literally running away. The idea of really saying goodbye to either of them made him want to throw up and he couldn’t look at them any longer without breaking down. So he’d ignored Ned’s shouting and bolted for the subway as fast as he could.

Penny’s solution to his Tony Stark problem was insane. Peter wasn’t even sure if it would work, or if Tony would somehow intervene. He had so many connections, it was like running from an entire army instead of just one man.

Peter hadn’t actually seen Tony since Penny had caught them walking near the apartment complex. He almost wondered if Tony had been scared off by someone seeing them together, as if worried about being caught. Caught. Because Peter was 17 and there was no reason for a 40-year-old man to have any interest in him unless it was creepy and Stark needed to be caught .

But he knew that Tony wouldn’t be dissuaded by something so simple. If Penny was right, and he was almost sure she was because she always was somehow, then Tony was immune from the law. That’s why they were going to such extreme measures to get out of his grasp, because there was no other way to stop him. There was no way Tony had stopped following him, had stopped watching him. He was simply doing it at a distance now.

For some reason.

Peter really didn’t want to think about what that reason was.

A bone deep chill ran down his spine as he buzzed himself into the apartment and started up the stairs. He kept his phone in his hand, still hoping it would vibrate with a text message any second now. It was almost 5 o’clock, why hadn’t she answered his texts for 5 whole hours?

All three locks were done up on the door when he arrived at his apartment, which eased his tension somewhat. Penny was either still out and about for whatever reason, or she was safely tucked away in the apartment. Maybe she’d laid down to take a nap and not set an alarm— her schedule was so irregular she could sleep for hours and hours whenever the opportunity arose.

Another reassurance came when he saw her purse and keys sitting on the table just inside the doorway. She was home safe, her phone was probably just in her purse and she’d forgotten about it. It would bother him if she just hadn’t answered, but at least she’d be okay.

“Pen?” He called out, dropping his backpack onto the floor under the table and quickly digging into her purse, “are you awake?”

No phone in her purse, Peter sucked his lip into his mouth and worried it with his teeth. She must’ve fallen asleep on the couch and her phone was on the floor charging. He stepped swiftly down the hall and into the living room, crossing the hardwood floor quickly and peered over the back of the couch. Panic began to shoot through him when she wasn’t there. She might’ve been in the bathroom, maybe, or she could’ve laid down in his bed to rest instead—

“You lied to me, baby.”

Icy terror dripped down Peter’s spine, every hair on his body rising in unison. He wasn’t sure if it was the statement itself, or the tone, or the implication. Half a dozen apologies stuck to the roof of his mouth, spicy like cinnamon. Suddenly, a single thought began to race through his brain on repeat: Where is Penny?

“You told me you lived alone, off of an inheritance. Made me think you were all alone. Did you want me to think you were vulnerable, Peter? Did you think it would make keeping my attention easier? Because if you just wanted more attention, you should’ve told me baby boy,” the swish of fabric betrayed Stark’s otherwise silent movements as he shifted around in the kitchen, directly behind Peter.

“I… I told you I moved here after my aunt died, with money from family.”

“Do you really want to argue lies of omission with me, baby? I’m really good at arguing,” he was much closer now, Peter could almost feel the taller man’s body heat against his back.

“M-Mr. Stark, where is—”

“Penelope?” Stark cut him off before he could even ask, sending another nauseating spike of terror through his entire body, “does she prefer Penny or is that just what everyone calls her? She seems pretty averse to sweetheart.”

“Where—”

“She asks a lot of questions too, Petey,” his arms wrapped around Peter’s torso and pulled him back against his chest, carefully running his palm over the teenager’s sternum, “like ‘how did you get into my apartment?’ and ‘why won’t you leave my brother alone?’ That last one threw me for sure, baby. She was so scared but would hardly say anything but ‘please leave him alone’ half the time.”

“What did you do with her?” He could barely breathe, there was ice in his lungs, was he having an asthma attack?

“Nothing you need to worry about, baby boy. Why don’t you explain why you didn’t tell me about Penelope Parker, big sister extraordinaire?”

“P-please, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, j-just tell me she’s okay first,” tears were welling in Peter’s eyes, threatening to spill out at any second accompanied by loud sobbing.

“It’s cute you think you’re in a position to negotiate, precious. You’ve already earned yourself a punishment for lying, are you going to dig this hole deeper by being naughty? Answer me, now.”

Fuck, fuck he’d alluded to punishments and rules before but it had never seemed real. It all seemed like a bad dream most of the time, something that gave him nightmares but hadn’t actually happened. Wouldn’t ever lead to anything happening.

“I didn’t want to you know about her,” he whispered after a moment.

“Why Peter?”

Another hesitation, swiftly brought to an end by Tony’s teeth near his ear, “a-at first because she’d just… she’d just been hurt really bad and I didn’t want anyone near her. But later—later it was because I didn’t want you to have any leverage over me. Any more than you al.. already did.”

“Leverage, huh?” The man hummed quietly, both still very close to Peter’s ear, “You think I would’ve, what? Threatened to hurt her if you didn’t do what I said, threatened to kill her if you told?”

Peter nodded, a few tears escaping over his lash line to run down his cheeks. He’d been right too, Tony had taken advantage of Penny’s existence to hurt him. Where ever Penny was, she was there because of Peter. Whether she was hurt or scared or please not dead it was Peter’s fault because Tony Stark should’ve never been in their lives to begin with.

“Well naughty boy, you’ve earned yourself at least one and a half punishments, by my calculations. Silly thing, thinking I would hurt the person who took such good care of you for me. Now it’s my turn to take care of you, baby boy.”

“Please, where is she?” Peter sobbed, curling over the arm around his waist slightly, “is she okay?”

“Penny hit her head pretty hard, so she’s getting a CT scan right now and some medicine to help her sleep it off,” Tony’s unused hand began carding through Peter’s hair, tickling the back of his neck carefully, “You can see her sometime tomorrow, if she’s up for visitors. Cap might get over protective, we’ll have to wait and see.”

“W-Who is Cap, why can’t I see her now—”

“Uh, uh, uh, baby,” long fingers suddenly grew uncomfortably tight against Peter’s scalp, pulling his head back in one slow drag, “no more questions from you. It’s time for your punishments, and the only words I better hear from you are ‘thank you, sir’.”

#steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers x oc #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!tony stark #dark!mcu #let's review #let's review chapter 6

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 4 years

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two years too late, chapter s e v e n

wc: 6.5k

Your mother had raised a woman of class. Which is why, even though you didn’t really want to, you climbed into the leather backseat that night, greeting Roger with a smile. You had work, it was late. Too soon for a sleepover, you thought. You weren’t going to give it up that easy. That didn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach when he kissed you goodbye, his hand on your face as if pulling away would lead to catastrophe.

The string of green lights above the dark streets of New York seemed to smile down at you, the cold air coming in from the cracked window next to Roger fluttered up your spine. The radio played songs just for you, a text lit up your screen when the car slowed to a stop outside your building.

Harry S (11:21pm): Might sound weird. Going to say it anyway.

Harry S (11:21pm): I can’t wait to kiss you again.

So maybe that’s why you couldn’t sleep--the desire to kiss him over and over again that had been lying dormant inside for years was suddenly at the surface, and better yet, it wasn’t a fantasy. This wasn’t a day dream in lecture or a fleeting thought when you scrolled past a picture of him on instagram, wondering where he was and how often he thought of you.

Sleep didn’t come until 2am--after tossing and turning and questioning what type of stars had aligned to make this reality. The ceiling seemed to float higher, a constant energy buzzing inside of you until finally, a yawn. Then another, then, suddenly, morning.

The New York winter seemed less angry, less bitter. The subway was on time and your coffee was hot. Carly was happy to see you, eager to hear all about your holiday at home over lunch, the anger somehow softened. Staff meeting was quick and everyone seemed cheerful. Wednesday bled into Thursday, Thursday into Friday.

You were feeling generous, still floating from three nights earlier, when Carly asked to have dinner.

“Tonight?” You clarified, pen between your teeth as you proofread your own story. You didn’t have any plans this evening, if anything, you had laundry to do and you knew Alyssa would want to order out. Fridays were meant for staying in.

“Mhm,” she nodded. “We could just go somewhere near you. Been a while since we’ve hung out outside of these four walls,” she motioned around the common space with the plush red couches and vending machines that offered an afternoon pick me up.

Your computer whirred on your lap, powering through the hours you’d spent on this story. Best Youtube Sensations and Why. A smirk crossed over your face when you looked up to find her staring.

“You want me to invite him?”

“I mean,” a quick shrug of her shoulders, a wave of her hand as if to dismiss your silly thought. “I wasn’t implying that--but I certainly wouldn’t be mad.”

You let out a small laugh, adjusting on the couch and brushing hair behind your ear. Light filtered in through the windows, a busy New York afternoon on the streets below. “I’ll text him and see what he’s doing, but, I dunno, he might be busy.”

“Uh, speaking of,” she said suddenly, her eyes on her phone before she twisted it around to show you. A picture, Harry walking behind Denise to the gate, half of your forehead and eyebrow, a hat on your head was the only saving grace.

“Someone just tagged you in this.”

You leaned forward, hands reaching for the phone in desperation. “What?! Me? What do you mean?”

“It’s a tweet,” she pressed something on the screen to make the picture smaller, showing you that it had been attached to 280 characters.

You grabbed it out of her hands and held the screen close enough to your face to burn your retinas. “Bloody fuck,” you said, pushing the phone back at her before you shut your laptop. You let your face fall into your hands, a groan escaping your lips.

Fine, Carly knew. It didn’t seem miserable so far. She wasn’t as annoying about it as you’d expected. You could butter Carly up and let her meet the love of her life--that had to hold some sort of weight in terms of whether or not she’d tattle. But everyone else--and Whitney, for that matter--that was another story.

How would it look if one of The Scoop’s employees was snogging Harry Styles at night while another was writing stories about him in the morning?

“I mean--you can’t really tell if it’s you or not.”

“Right but that’s like the last one and if this keeps happening--”

“The last one?” she shut her own laptop and leaned forward.

“That one that you said was a random model--that concert,” you waved a hand to jog her memory, motioning towards the kitchen where she’d brought it up, bringing all above board. “Not a model, but thanks.”

“That was you?!”

“Shhh--jesus, you can’t just be loud about it!”

“Sorry,” she whispered back, her face just as excited as before. “That was you?! Why did he have his arms around you?!”

“He was just telling me something,” you said, partially true, a shrug to really sell it. Carly knowing that you grew up down the street was one thing, her knowing that the nature of the relationship had shifted was a whole other arena you didn’t want to get into.

“Oh my god,” she said, her smile plastered on her cheeks as she let out a big breath. “I totally want to meet him.”

“I know,” you said, words quick and laced with obligation. “Not the main issue right now,” you reminded, pointing back at her cellphone.

“Right--sorry,” she said, opening it again to pull up the tweet. “Only a few retweets and likes.”

“What do I do?” You asked, moving closer to stare at it again. “How could anyone tell that that’s me?”

“There’s probably other photos, more of your face or something.”

“Fuck.”

“S’fine,” she shrugged, her voice pleading with you to calm down. “Laugh it off. Claim you have a lookalike who apparently lives the life of the rich and famous.”

“And what happens when no one believes that and realizes it’s actually me?!”

She went quiet at that, her eyes scanning the room before falling back on yours. “Dunno. We just have to make sure Whitney doesn’t see it--not that she’s ever on twitter.”

“She’d kill me.”

“She wouldn’t kill you,” she corrected. “She’d have questions. And she’d want answers.”

“I can’t fucking lose my job, Carly. I’m gonna have to not hang out with him.”

“No!” She said, her own emotions getting the best of her before she cleared her throat, fingers running through her blonde hair to gain composure. “I just--don’t think you should suffer that. Reply really casually to it and if Whitney brings it up tell her that you bumped into him. Total coincidence.”

You thought on it for a second--deciding it was more believable than the lookalike theory or even some type of evil twin narrative. You and Harry heading for the same gate, plausible. He lived in London. You flew out of Heathrow.

It wasn’t totally crazy.

“That’s not bad.”

“He recognized you from your articles,” Carly shrugged, the creative wheels turning in her head. “That’d make you look really good, actually.”

You reached for your phone, pulling up twitter to assess the damage. Carly was right. Minimal interaction--the person was just a fan of your writing, you guessed. You typed out an easy response and pressed send.

So maybe you were getting into dangerous territory, one where business and pleasure mixed like oil and water. But Carly’s support felt genuine, like now she was a safe haven at work--her words reassuring and calming. She bounced as you walked, excited for the possibility that--if he was free--Harry might make a guest appearance in your living room to grace her with his presence. Her words, not yours.

She promised to be cool, to swallow the smile that was glued to her lips and to count to three before she responded to anything he said. Alyssa, who’s patience quickly diminished after the sun went down, was less than thrilled about company, let alone someone who might make high pitched noises and cry tears of joy.

Harry was briefed on your commute home, casually accepting the invitation for pizza and beer. He laughed at first, seemingly pleased that you’d let Carly in on it. Can I bring up the article she wrote about my hair cut? The one with all the gif reactions?

The buzzer of your apartment sounded, Carly’s breath hitched in her throat and Alyssa let out a laugh. Out of everyone, she had the least at stake. Her feet were up on the coffee table, eyes on the Knicks game to prove it.

“He’s a human,” you said to Carly over your shoulder, she smoothed her blouse and bit her lip.

“Human,” she repeated the word as if that’d make it more true, her head nodding as you walked over to the door. His footsteps were on the other side.

When you opened it, he smiled. A black wool coat hung over his shoulders, more stubble on his chin than the last time you saw him.

“Hi,” he leaned in, as if his lips were about to press into yours. A hand to his chest, a diversion, you offered your cheek instead.

He raised his eyebrows momentarily, realizing his slip was a risky one. “Hi,” he leaned around you, offering a smile in Carly’s direction. She stood behind you, trying her best to mask the excitement in her eyes. It didn’t matter, you’d already warned him.

“Hi,” she smiled. “I’m, uh, it’s nice to meet you. I’m a big fan.”

“Thank you, heard a lot about you--nice to meet you, too,” he shook her hand, shrugging out of his coat while Alyssa bit into pizza, eyes still glued to the game.

“Beer’s in the fridge,” she spoke between chews, her greeting much more casual than it was the first time they’d met.

“M’starving,” he said, heading over to the kitchen after hung his coat on the hook behind the door. He rubbed his hands together as he peered into the two boxes, surveying his options.

Carly was still frozen in place, her eyes big and round when you stepped past her. You settled onto the couch, reconciling with the pizza you’d left on a plate. “Good?”

“Good,” she nodded, her voice quiet enough so he wouldn’t hear. “Wild. Unbelievable, really.”

“It’ll wear off,” Alyssa laughed playfully, referencing her own excitement the first few nights. “Has terrible manners, really.”

“Me?” Harry came back around the corner, his brows furrowed together when he bit into the slice in his hand. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah--at least now you let us know when you’re coming over.”

You shot Alyssa a look, one that begged her to change the subject. The goal of the night was to let Carly have her moment, not spill all the details of your relationship with Harry.

“Hey,” he whined, “just want to spend time with my friends.”

Alyssa laughed and rolled her eyes, pulling her legs back onto the couch. It wasn’t long before Harry’s attention shifted to that of the game, his eyes following the ball on the screen, muttering back and forth to Alyssa whenever a basket was made.

Carly seemed more than fine with just watching him watch the telly you kept the conversation light and focused on neutral topics. The holidays, the weather, upcoming concerts at the Garden. Harry made nice and told her he loved his time in the band as much as he said he did in interviews.

Carly asked a few questions about your relationship with Harry--how old were you when you met? Did you ever get to go to One Direction concerts?

Harry handled it in stride, answering her questions with ease instead of dodging them like you’d somewhat expected. Instead, he admitted that he lost touch, only thinking to reach out six weeks earlier.

“I, uh, spoke with our friend Jake--I knew Y/N was here but he reminded me, and I hadn’t seen her in a while, so, figured I’d call.”

You tilted your head to the side, he made brief eye contact with you before looking over to Carly. “You spoke with Jake?” It wasn’t a shock, especially seeing as that cover had already been blown.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, a sip of the beer in his hand. “Caught up with him and mentioned the gang. Figured it’d be nice to see you.”

You let the words settle, Alyssa cheering suddenly when the Knicks stole possession of the ball.

“Yes!” She screamed, arms in the air, beer pointing towards the sky. “Did you see that?” Her words were aimed at Harry.

He laughed, turning back to you and Carly. “It’s definitely been nice to see you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes, hoping he’d get the hint: no flirting in front of Carly.

The night went on like that, casual conversation interrupted by Alyssa’s sports excitement.

All of it was easier than you thought, largely because Carly was calmer than you’d anticipated. You’d been prepared for her to barely be able to mumble out words, but she was doing fine enough with full sentences and proper grammar. A success for all.

You’d wondered, when Carly first showed up, if she’d need to be kicked out of your apartment, feet dragging on the wood floor when you’d inevitably tell her you were going to sleep. You hated when people overstayed their welcome, and this felt like a situation where goodbyes would be reluctant and bittersweet.

Luckily, Carly did her fair share of yawning before 10pm, letting you know she’d take the subway a few stops back to her apartment in Chelsea. She hugged Harry and wiggled her eyebrows at you over his shoulder. A sigh escaping your lips when she was out the door.

“Good?” Harry asked, his eyebrows raised while Alyssa headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed. “Was I friendly enough?”

He walked over to you, resting his arms around your shoulders, your hands wrapping around his torso. “Yes, you were fine,” you laughed. “She was better than I thought.”

“Me too,” he nodded. “Was prepared for fainting or something.”

Alyssa appeared in the doorway to the bathroom. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she spoke around the toothbrush in her mouth. “The novelty wears off quickly.”

Harry pulled back from you, narrowing his eyes at her. “Pretty sure you cleaned the entire apartment before I came over that one time.”

“Pretty sure you’re...an idiot,” Alyssa shot back, her laugh floating up towards the ceiling.

Harry pulled you closer, your head against his chest, his chin resting on your hair. “I’ll take it,” he shrugged.

He pressed his lips to the top of your head, sending a wave of heat down your spine. Alyssa rolled her eyes and left to spit into the sink, disappearing into her room while you and Harry moved over to the couch.

You thanked him for tolerating Carly, he promised it wasn’t too obnoxious. You put your feet on his lap like you had at his mum’s, but this time, he let a hand rest on your thigh.

You didn’t know what it was. Maybe the dim glow in the living room, maybe the muted telly that now moved on to a late night sitcom rerun. Maybe it was how he helped gather the empty beer bottles, tossing half eaten pieces of crust into the bin.

But when he lingered in the middle of the room, halfway between the door and you, he tilted his head.

Stay, you said. Your bed was big enough for two.

Getting him out of your house in the morning was something you hadn’t thought through. Neither was the smirk on Alyssa’s face when he stumbled into the bathroom, half asleep, her eyes watching you over the rim of her coffee.

“Relax, nothing happened,” you settled onto a chair beside her at the table, privacy granted by the closed bathroom door.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded again, reaching for a bite of the muffin on her plate.

She swatted at your hand. “You expect me to believe that?”

You laughed, turning to look at her. With sleepy eyes and a hesitant tone, you cracked. “No penile penetration.”

Her eyes went wide, the possibilities now swimming in her head. You were saved by the creaking of the door, Harry emerged in the same t-shirt he wore the night before, boxers, socks up to his calves.

“Good morning,” Alyssa offered, a challenging smirk in his direction as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Morning,” his voice was deep and hoarse. “Has the trial begun?” He shot a smirk back at her, poking fun at her curiosity.

“You’re the next to testify,” you informed with a smile, heading over to the Keurig to place a mug beneath the spout.

Alyssa laid off, though. She headed for the bathroom to shower and dress before dipping out the door to a spin class, claiming she had to be there early if she wanted a good bike. Harry lounged on the couch with a coffee in his hands, his eyes trailing you as you walked back and forth from the bathroom to your bedroom.

Eventually, after you’d traded pyjamas for jeans, the anxiety lodged in your throat and you sat on the couch beside him. “Can we talk?”

He looked up from his phone, eyebrows dipping together when he adjusted on the cushions. “S’never good.”

“No, I just,” you took a breath, unsure of where to start or where to go. The clock above the telly clicked, a horn beeped from the street below. “There was a photo of us at the airport.”

He pushed his lips out, waiting for you to say more.

“You can’t tell anyone you know me. You should unfollow me on instagram and twitter and--we just need to be careful. Carly showed me the picture and you can only sort of tell that it’s me, but if we keep hanging out--”

He cut you off, your rambling was too much for half past nine. “There will be more.”

“And there are more. If people start to suspect anything they’ll go digging and find photos that neither of us want anyone to see.”

He laughed at that, a small breath out through his nose, a smirk on his mouth. He sat up straight. “If you don’t want to do this, Smalls, then we don’t have to.”

His eyes trailed around the room, anywhere but you.

“No, s’not what I’m saying.”

“Well, what? You don’t want to tell our friends, you don’t want to be seen out with me--”

“It’s not you, Harry, it’s--”

“My name?” He cut you off, his eyes sad but knowing.

A shrug of your shoulders. You were quiet for a second, waiting to see if he would speak. When he didn’t, you stood from the couch. “I just want to focus on my career. I’m worried that this would get me fired.”

“I know,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Another sigh, this time, less annoyed and more understanding. When he looked over at you, he offered a slight smile, the green of his eyes more vibrant on a cloudy day. “This is always the worst part.”

“What do you mean?”

“Of dating,” he clarified, his head tilted to the side and he looked towards the window.

You felt your lip twitch into a smile, one that you tried to will away. Don’t get your hopes up, don’t be so naive. He didn’t think much of it, though, as he brushed right past it and kept talking.

“People are nosy and it’s a pain in the ass, but that doesn’t--I still want to hang out with you.”

You nodded, a mix of emotion in your gut as he stood from the couch. Excitement, nervousness, a web of thoughts that all seemed to lead right back to the same place: him.

“Me too,” you said, standing quickly to face him in the room. “I just--I want my job as well.”

He nodded, opening his arms to invite you into his chest. Two steps forward before you felt his skin on yours, his hips against yours, his lips on yours.

Alyssa knew you hated cooking. Which is why you were a great roommate, really. She would cook, you would clean. You also supplied the wine on nights like this: when she stood before the stove and you sat at the small table, watching her stir in different ingredients that you couldn’t even pronounce.

She had inundated you with questions upon her return to the apartment--her hair up in a bun from her workout class, still sweaty after brunch with a coworker. She lifted her legs to let you vacuum beneath them, asking what it was like to have his hands roaming under your shirt.

She was worse than Carly, in a way, less in love with him, but just as curious as enchanted, especially now that he wasn’t in the room. Alyssa was like that. She’d play it cool when he was around, but as soon as the door was shut and his car whizzed down the street, she’d poke and prod until she was blue in the face.

She stuck a spoon into the pan, moving around the chicken that was now flooded with tomato sauce. “I can’t believe you’re going to have sex with him,” she looked up at you, her eyes enthusiastic and eager. “This is like, unbelievable. I’m gonna have to tell my mom.”

“What?” You set your glass of wine down on the table. “Why? You do not have to tell her.”

“She loved What Makes You Beautiful,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, well, that was like ten years ago practically.”

“She’ll be thrilled!”

“It’s not even guaranteed, okay? Who knows how long this will last.”

“Why do you say it like that?” She set the spoon down, moving over to the counter to retrieve her own glass.

You let out a groan. “I just--it kind of feels too good to be true, you know? Why now? What made him text me that night and why does he suddenly give a shit about all of us again?”

Alyssa took a sip, she looked around the room and mulled over your question. “You’d have to ask him, if you want his answer. But don’t ruin the excitement for yourself, okay? He has feelings for you and you have feelings for him.”

“And his being famous really throws a wrench in that.”

“I know,” she sighed, setting her glass down before tending to the chicken once more. “Sounds like he was receptive today, though!”

“He was,” you shrugged. “He didn’t love it at first though. Which I get. His life is super public and me not being okay with that feels like a recipe for disaster.”

“You really think Whitney would be mad about it? I mean, I thought she was a cool boss,” she laughed.

You spread your arms out on the table, letting your forehead fall down to rest on the wood. “She is but she also has to abide by the ethics and all of the stuff about truthfulness and integrity.” Another groan.

“So should you just be truthful with her?”

“No!” you pulled your head up quickly to look at her before burying your face again. “It’s too late now, she’ll ask why I didn’t tell her from the start, but I was just trying to have a life outside of him.”

“What do you mean?”

Another groan, you looked up, your gaze met hers and she reached for her wine, eyes wide as she waited for you to explain. “I’ve always been the girl who was friends with him,” you rolled your eyes. “My uni friends and classmates all wanted to hang out with me because they figured maybe he’d come round at some point.”

She laughed a little, her hand danced over the stove to sprinkle more oregano.

“He didn’t, though,” you reminded, more annoyed now. “Too busy being famous and shit.”

“Okay, alright,” she tried to soothe you.

“So forgive me for just wanting to be Y/N,” you said. “No connection to him. Just making my own first impression and being my own human.”

“I get it,” she shrugged. “The question is: do you think Whitney would get it?”

“Forget Whitney,” you threw your hands up in the air and let out another noise of defeat. “If she asks about the photo I’ll just say that I bumped into him like Carly said and whatever. I haven’t even seen any other photos,” you reached for your phone.

You pulled up Twitter, immediately heading into your mentions to assess any further damage. Replies to your last tweet, likes, retweets. A few people asking when you’d be doing another Stupid Things list--a compilation of stupid trends or phrases or memes. Alyssa hummed over the stove.

You scrolled down on your feed, looking for something familiar to know you’d been caught up with the internet happenings, but then, your eyes trailed a familiar photo--one that had been leaked a long time ago.

You jumped as high as you could, as if space between you and the ground would make things less awkward. He’d shown up at your door, a knock as if it wasn’t out of place.

“How long are you in town for?”

He bounced next to you, you wondered if you were both too heavy for it now, limbs much longer than they were even two years ago before he left.

“Just a week,” he said, his breath unsteady as his arms flailed by his sides. His feet hit the trampoline once more, only a second before yours, both of you tumbling down to the black surface in your parent’s garden.

“Jesus,” he laughed, his legs tangled with yours, socks against the surface as you tried to brush the hair out of your face.

What was he doing here? Touring the world with his band didn’t keep him busy enough this summer? Why did he show up at your house, not Jake’s or Jessie’s? Did they even know he was home?

“Sorry,” he said now, pushing himself up on his elbows, the word felt more weighted than a simple apology for knocking you over.

You sighed, somehow heartbroken by the fact that after all this time, you still wanted to kiss him.

“Oh fuck me,” you said, Alyssa looked up from the stove and came to peer over your shoulder. “M’pretty sure my sister’s stupid friend Sophie took this picture.”

“When’s that from?”

“I don’t know, s’like 2012 or something.” You dropped your phone onto the wooden surface before you, as if holding it in your hand would make the photo harder to escape.

Alyssa reached for it and held it up to her face. “That’s you?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t really tell.” She handed it back.

“I know--no one knows it’s me, no one ever did except for my sister and that Sophie girl--and my friends, too, obviously.”

“So why is it popping up now?”

“Cause someone is doing exactly what I suspected!” Another gesture towards the sky in exasperation.

“Which is…”

“Connecting the dots and realizing that I know him! On twitter.”

“What did they say?”

You pulled the tweet up and showed it to her.

“They didn’t even mention you.”

“No, but, the airport one mentioned me and I’m thinking it’s not a far jump if people start to zoom in.”

“Okay, you’re getting paranoid,” Alyssa laughed, walking over to the wine to offer you a refill.

“Am I? People aren’t that stupid, Lyss. And if they see that he follows me or old photos of Bryn’s or something they’ll know.”

“You can still be a successful journalist and know Harry Styles.”

You sighed, wishing you could tattoo her words on the inside of your eyelids. “Only if I keep them very separate.”

“So keep them separate! S’not like you have to write about music much, right?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You’re right. I’ll pretend I don’t know him when I’m at work and when I’m at home I’ll snog him until morning.”

Alyssa laughed, turning the burner down and offering a smile. “Sounds fun to me.”

When closing time came on Monday, the main thing on your mind was how crowded the subway would be and whether or not you could talk Alyssa into making chilli for dinner. You’d written five different lists and managed to avoid a conversation about Liam Payne in the kitchen. So when you checked your email for the last time before heading out, you were not, for any reason, expecting to be called into Whitney’s office at 4:58pm.

At first you thought the worst. She’d seen the photos, you’d be fired. Someone had sent them to her and demanded to know why an employee was getting cozy with a celebrity--what type of work ethic was that? You’d have to move home. Ask your parents for money. Anxieties ticked through your brain as you counted the thirty-five steps to her corner office.

Coats and scarves disguised your coworkers--some of whom offered smiles as you completed what you were sure was the walk of shame.

The sun had gone down outside, blinking lights from other offices greeted you through the windows when you knocked twice. “Hi, you wanted to see me?”

She looked up from her computer, a smile taking over her face when her eyes met yours. “Hi, yeah, come in,” she said, shutting her computer quickly and pushing back from her desk. “Sorry to catch you so last minute.”

“S’okay,” you replied, taking a seat in the Sahara coloured leather chair opposite her. You clasped your hands on your lap, her smile was too wide to be upset with you, you were sure of it. “Everything alright?”

“Great, yeah, actually I have good news.”

“Oh? Yeah, what is it?” You wiggled in your chair, an immediate wave of relief washing up when you realized you weren’t getting canned. If you were lucky, Alyssa would be in the mood for chilli and there’d be a new documentary to watch on Netflix.

“We got an amazing offer for someone to do an interview. A long form. Photoshoot. The like. I know you’ve been itching to do something more serious,” she smiled coyly. “So I was hoping you’d do it.”

“Oh god, wow, who is it?!”

“Harry Styles!” She let out a squeal, clapping her hands together as she leaned back in her chair once more. “How amazing, right? He can be so picky about press but I guess his team was looking for something not as mainstream, y’know, not GQ.”

Quiet for a second, you had to keep your eyes from going wide, your face from losing all colour. You imagined, if you could see yourself in this moment, you looked like a shell of yourself.

“You want me to interview him?”

She nodded, her lips pressed together in a firm line, obviously awaiting a burst of excitement to come from your lungs.

You shook your head unconsciously, “what about Carly? She loves him!”

Whitney sighed, her red fingernails tapped on her desk. “I know--she was my first thought obviously cause she’s covered him for so long, but, to be honest, I’m just kind of worried that she wouldn’t be able to be professional about it.”

You bit your tongue, a sudden rise of guilt in your chest. Two options, either led to disaster.

Interview Harry, solidify your career as a journalist and get to list yourself as one of the few people who’ve interviewed someone of his caliber. Run the risk of outing yourself as someone who actually knows someone of his caliber and all the while engaging in something extremely unethical.

Or, pass on the interview to preserve your morals and lose a chance to further your career, likely for a relationship that would fizzle out like your friendship previously had. You weren’t stupid. You couldn’t possibly believe that this would last or be long term.

“Why can’t Gabrielle do it?”

“Too busy--she’s got two big pieces this month that she’s tied up with. She’ll be out of town one of the days he’s available, too.”

You bit your lip, toying with the idea of just coming out with all of it now.

“I really took into consideration what you said before the holidays--I want to give you this story.” She smiled at you, a fondness in her eyes that felt both flattering and overwhelming all at once. “Besides, you’ve always been so nonchalant about celebrities, I think it’d be a good take on someone like him.”

Silence. Cleaning staff shuffled outside her door, picking up waste bins and vacuuming the office carpet. You let your eyes wander the room. A framed picture of her nieces sat beside her computer.

“Are you not interested?”

“I am,” you looked up at her quickly, hunting for the right words. “Just nervous, I guess.”

Not false.

“So you’ll do it?” she leaned forward on her desk, a second wave of guilt crashed over you.

Whitney, like the good boss she was, wanted you to grow as a journalist. She wanted you to be fulfilled by your work and she valued and appreciated your feedback. And now she offered you what would have been an amazing opportunity, had the interview subject not been someone you got drunk with only a few weeks ago.

A nod of your head. Words out of your mouth from a voice that didn’t sound familiar. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’ll do it.”

The air was cold when you climbed out of your Uber. Your computer was clutched beneath your arm and you were only slightly offended that the doorman of Harry’s building ignored your frantic pounding on the glass door to the lobby.

If you hadn’t known Harry for over a decade, you’d be more hesitant about showing up at his flat unannounced for the second time in two weeks. You’d tried to warn him, but the four text messages you’d sent were left unread. He finally answered the third phone and called down to the doorman to let you in, but you’d rehearsed your opening line the entire ride up.

“Okay, we have a big issue.”

“What’s wrong?” he came around the corner of the sofa, pulling a jumper over his head when you crossed your arms. You hadn’t the slightest clue what he’d been doing all day or why he hadn’t answered your messages, but you didn’t have time to greet him before launching into the problem at hand.

“Whitney wants me to interview you,” you said, unzipping your coat, your eyes locked on his as you waited for a reaction.

“What?” his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

You let your hands slap your sides, frustration boiling over. “She said your team agreed to do an interview with The Scoop and she wants me to do it.”

“Shit,” he said, his eyes drifting left.

“What do you mean shit?” Panic seemed to rise in your core.

“Well,” he spoke quickly, “Phoebe mentioned doing an interview the other day with a local website but I didn’t think it was yours.” He started to pace in the living room, hands in the front pocket of his jumper as he shook his head.

“Great,” you said, anger rising in your voice. “This is great.”

“Do you want me to cancel it? I’ll just cancel it.”

“No! You can’t cancel it. This is huge for my career.”

The words felt contradictory. You’d previously been hellbent on privacy, fearful any tie to Harry could ruin your status of employment. And while it might, now a part of you felt eager to cover him, boost your reputation as a good writer.

“Well you don’t sound too excited,” he rolled his eyes, stopping on top of the white carpet that laid above the polished wood floors. His feet were socked--dark circles under his eyes when he rubbed at his chin.

“Well I’m not!”

He paced again.

“I have to interview you because I told Whitney before Christmas that I wanted more long form work--you know, real news!”

“Well then what do you suppose you tell her?”

You let out a huff of air. “I don’t know.”

He was quiet for a moment, the hum of the telly in the other room seemed to drift down the hall from his bedroom.

“Can you do it and just not tell her we’re...friends?”

The word hurt more than you cared to admit, so you shrugged. “Dunno. I guess.”

More quiet. He let out a sigh before moving to sit on the couch. “If you think about it,” he looked up at you, his elbows resting on his knees, “that might explain the photos, right? Once you put the story out, people will assume that the airport photo was because of the story.”

“What about the concert one?”

“Can’t tell it’s you.”

You thought on it for a second. Whitney must not have seen it. She seemed to be busy enough with the upcoming award season and the start of a new podcast that she must have just missed the slight buzz of excitement.

No one else at work aside from Carly cared enough about Harry to pay attention to his hold over the internet. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea.

“It would take a few weeks, the story, that is,” you thought aloud. “A few sessions of interviewing, a week of writing, a week of editing. There’d be a photoshoot somewhere in there.”

He nodded, urging you to continue.

“So by the time the story is out if she sees any photos of us from the last month she won’t even know if they were recent. She’ll think it had something to do with that.”

Another nod. Hope in his eyes.

You closed yours and let your head fall back, stomping a foot on the ground in frustration. “This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Doing what?” He asked, his stare still on you when you opened your eyes again.

“Interviewing someone I’m...seeing.”

He cracked a smile at that, standing from the couch to come over to where you stood. “Oh come on, you used to ask me a ton of annoying questions when we were kids. It’ll be like old times.”

“Yeah, minus your tongue down my throat.”

“We can still do that when you interview me?” he wiggled his eyebrows and laughed, pulling you into his chest.

“If you behave,” you said. “Let me ask all sorts of questions and give me good answers. None of your vague and general bullshit.”

He let out a howl of a laugh at that, dropping his arms from around you altogether as he walked towards the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll only give you that. The worst interview I’ve ever given.”

“You’re neglecting to remember that I could write an entire story about the time you slipped down the stairs in Year 7 or when your trousers ripped at that dance when we were fourteen.”

He looked at you over his shoulder, his eyes pointed and playful. “You wouldn’t dare.”

A shrug. A smirk on your lips that could only be removed by his mouth on yours. “Maybe I would,” you threatened.

read the other parts here

AN: ohhhh shit. lmk what ya think!

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mermaidxatxheart · 5 years

Text

As You Wish

So, my birthday was a couple weeks ago. I didn’t do much, but what I did do was watch one of my favorite movies. The Princess Bride. If you haven’t watched it, you definitely should. So, here’s my little homage-not nearly the caliber of that genius. But, I hope you enjoy it all the same. Message me or send me an ask telling me what you thought. If you’d like to be tagged in anything I write, just let me know. Lots of love~Jamie.

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 3900

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of violence and PTSD.

Summary: You’ve been watching movies with Bucky, trying to help him catch up on all the things he’s missed over the years. But, he’s having a difficult time adjusting to a Hydra-free life, and in the process, hurts your feelings. Can he ever make it up to you? And how would you ever believe him?

“Bucky! Ready to watch a movie?” You skip into his room, as you always do, without knocking and never gently.

He’s come to expect it, enjoy it even, but he’d never let you know it. Once it’s known that he likes something it gets taken away. And he can’t let you go. So, he pretends to tolerate you, just barely managing to keep you at arms—length.

“What is it this time?” He asks with a sigh, coming out of his bedroom.

“The Princess Bride. Steve said you would have never seen it, so I thought it was perfect. It’s one of my favorite movies!” You skip to his couch, ignoring his sighs as you usually do. He loves that about you. You just don’t care that you are potentially putting yourself in danger every time you’re with him.

He really didn’t want to watch what sounded like a very boring chick flick, but then you look at him with those big round eyes and how the fuck is he supposed to say no to you now?

“I guess we’re watching,” he picks up the case. “The Princess Bride. Why does the cover look like that? The writing is so loopy.”

You laugh at him and take the case out of his hand, turning it upside down. It takes him a second but he realizes the writing upside down spells the same thing as it does right side up.

“Oh, that’s cool. What’s the word for that? Um...” he struggles to think of the word for a minute before looking to you. He knows you know it, and he knows you’ve had it on the tip of your tongue since he looked at the case. He also knows that you would never blurt it out, waiting to see if he can find his way there. Sometimes he does, sometimes it escapes him, but you’re always there with what he needs.

“Ambigram.” You smile up at him, taking the case and slipping the round disc into the player.

“Twentieth-anniversary edition?” He looks at the case again. Gold scrolling letters form the title over mirror images of scarlets and blues that somehow both work together.

“Yeah, it came out in 1987, just before I was born.” You say looking at him as you head back to the couch.

He groans loudly. “You’re making me feel old.”

“You are old, Bucky.” You laugh and he swears, you could make fun of him all day long if only you keep laughing like that. You take the seat in the middle of the couch and he’s left with a conundrum. If he sits on either side of you, he’ll be close enough to pull you against his side, and even though he wants that more than anything, he would rather have you in his life than just a few seconds of touching you. But if he sits in the armchair, he knows you’ll be hurt.

“Bucky, I don’t bite that hard, sit down.” You tell him, patting the seat next to you.

He bites back a second groan at the images that are now running through his head. He takes the seat next to you, shifting the pillow to put a pathetic barrier between your body and his.

He’s not an idiot, he knows you see it. He also knows that even if it hurts you, you’d never let him know.

Fuck.

It’s like you were put on this earth just to torment him with what he can’t have. And even if he could, he’d never deserve you, never be good enough for you, with all the blood he has on his hands? And you, you’re so innocent, so pure, why would you ever want someone so broken?

But, of course, that’s why he loves you so fucking much. Because you’re everything he’s not.

“So, not gonna lie, this is my favorite movie, hands down. I know every line, start to finish, so if I get annoying, just smack me with a pillow.” You warn him with a teasing smile.

You make that offer every time you bring a movie to his room, but he never takes you up on it. For one, he loves watching you mouth the words along with the characters, and for two, the thought of hitting you, even jokingly with something soft like a pillow makes his stomach curdle and his skin crawl. He would never hurt you.

And now he’s curious because he’s never seen you so excited over a movie before. You press play and settle back into the couch. Your legs are cross under you and you seem to almost fold in on yourself and he feels he needs to do something to relax you.

“Why do they show all these things at the beginning?” He asks and you look at him for a minute.

“It’s just to advertise what movies are coming out soon or that they’re out and you can buy them now.” You shrug.

“But this movie was made... thirty years ago.” He adds quickly in his head. “What’s the point of having them on there now?”

“To complete the experience? It would feel incomplete, almost amateurish if it didn’t have previews beforehand. It’s just something people expect.” You explain patiently. You never lose your cool with him, always patient.

“They didn’t use to.” He sighs, thinking about how complicated the world has become.

You simply smile at home and fast forward through the rest. “I never usually watch them anyway, unless it’s the first time.” You select ‘play’ and the screen changes to black and a weird noise sounds.

“What is that?” Bucky asks, tilting his head.

“It’s a video game that was popular back in the ’80s. Like an interactive baseball game.” You say, a smile curling on your perfect lips.

He aches to trace it with his thumb, to feel your tongue swipe over it, the silky feel of you wrapping your lips around it—he forces the thoughts down. Those lead down dangerous paths and he has to stay away.

He turns his attention back to the screen, deciding if this one is so important to you, he can watch it instead of you.

“Farmboy, polish my horse’s saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.”

“As you wish.”

“As you wish was all he ever said to her.”

“Farmboy, fill these with water...please.”

“As you wish.”

“That day she was amazed to discover that when he was saying ‘as you wish’ what he meant was ‘I love you’. And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.”

“Farmboy! ......fetch me that pitcher.”

“As you wish.”

That doesn’t mean he isn’t hyper-aware of you mouthing every word, sitting so close that all he has to do is twitch his hand out to touch you.

“Inhale this, but do not touch.”

“I smell nothing.”

“What you do not smell is called iocaine powder. It is odorless, tasteless and dissolves instantly in water. It is among the more deadly poisons known to man.”

He’s conscious of you looking over at him but he keeps his eyes on the screen. You’re not annoying him at all, how could you? Your enthusiasm for this movie is infectious and he’s hooked.

What he isn’t aware of is that you’re subtly shifting closer to him. With each adjustment or stretch, it brings you closer to his side.

“Boo! Boo! Boo!”

“Why do you do this?”

“Because you had love in your hands and you gave it up!”

“But they would have killed Westley if I hadn’t done it.”

“Your true love lives, and you marry another! True love saved her in the Fire Swamp and she treated it like garbage! And that’s what she is! The Queen of Refuse. So, bow down to her if you want, bow to her. Bow to the queen of slime, the queen of filth, the queen of putrescence.”

You mouth every word in perfect synch. The words feel familiar to Bucky, not necessarily the true love part, but the name-calling. He feels that on a personal level.

Suddenly, you’re there, snuggling into his side, pulling his arm tight around you. Your fingers trace the plates on his fingers and knuckles and you’re so hot against the metal, he almost loses focus on the movie. He tenses, you have to feel it, but you don’t pull away, and he doesn’t push you away.

“Why don’t you ever touch me?” You ask. Your voice is so soft, so quiet that if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing, he never would have heard you.

His blood stills in his veins.

He tries to keep his eyes on the screen so you can’t see him panic.

“I don’t know what you mean. We’re touching right now.” He says quietly.

You let out a loud sigh. “Because I’m making you. If you had your way, I’d be at the other end of the couch. You touch Steve, even Sam when he’s not bothering you to death. Natasha, Wanda, you touch them.”

“You’re missing the movie.” He points out, a bead of sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

You pout and he loves the way your bottom lip pokes out. “Can I stay like this?” You ask and he’s absolutely too weak to say no.

“If you stop talking so I can hear.” He tells you, corners or his mouth tugging.

You smile brightly and worm your way impossibly closer to his side.

How is he supposed to say no when you look at him like that?

“A technicality that will shortly be remedied. But first thing’s first. To the death!”

“No! To the pain.”

“...I don’t think I’m quite familiar with that phrase.”

“I’ll explain. And I’ll use small words so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog faced buffoon.”

“That may be the first time in my life a man has dared insult me.”

“It won’t be the last.”

He’s so enthralled with the movie that he doesn’t see Steve pass by the door. The blond man doesn’t miss a thing when it comes to Bucky.

The credits roll and you turn to Bucky. “What’d you think?”

He quickly arranges his face into his normal scowl. “It was alright, a bit sappy. I can see why you like it, though. The satirical aspect of it really made it.”

You laugh, easing up away from him. He almost doesn’t let you go, but there’s a knock on his door. He jerks away from you, guilt churning in his gut at having been caught. Steve pokes his head in with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry to interrupt. Y/N, can I have a few minutes with Bucky?” He asks you.

You nod and scoop up your movie. A part of him wishes you would leave it behind so you would have a reason to come back. But he lets you go, pretending you’re not there, turning away at the last minute so that he doesn’t see your happy wave. The door clicks shut and Steve is so silent Bucky almost thinks he left, too.

“What’s going on?” He asks finally. Bucky turns away from him, meticulously fixing the cushions on the couch. “Bucky, tell me the truth.”

“Nothing is going on, Steve. She likes movies.” He shrugs.

“Buck. She only watches them with you. You like her?” Steve guesses, hitting the nail on the head.

Bucky flinches. “No. She just wants company. Easy to tune her out.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “You’re hiding something from me. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it. Whenever you’re ready to tell me the truth, you know where to find me.” He turns to leave, opening the door and freezing. “Y/N.” He says and Bucky’s heart plummets, but he refuses to turn around.

“I just forgot my phone.” You say, clearly struggling to keep your voice even.

Bucky’s heart constricts at the sound of it, but he scoops up your phone, handing it to you. He walks out of his quarters and heads for the gym without a second look. He can use a brutal workout right now.

He changes in the locker room and wraps his hand in the boxing tape. He steps up to the bag and starts punching. The burning of his muscles is welcome as he dances around, light on his feet. It’s something to focus on besides the way you smell, the feel of your fingers on his metal hand. Anything but the way you feel against his side, so natural and warm.

He becomes aware of Steve leaning against the wall next to him. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, but he refuses to break the silence. Strands of hair are plastered to his face and neck.

Finally, he can’t take Steve’s stare anymore. He thought he was tough, that he could handle it, but the guilt of hurting your feelings was already eating away at him.

“Words are hard,” Bucky mutters, pausing and breathing hard. Steve remains silent, waiting. “I can’t...” Bucky shakes his head. “She’s too...” he looks helplessly at his best friend. “Important.”

“You act like you don’t care about her.” Steve points out. “If she’s so important to you, why do you act like you don’t even like her that much?”

“Because I have to.” Bucky snaps before blowing out a sigh.

“You have to?” Steve repeats.

“Steve, you don’t.... it wasn’t the same for you.” Bucky shakes his head and Steve stiffens.

“Hydra.” He guesses.

“I wasn’t allowed... if I liked anything....” Bucky rubs his face frustratedly.

“You’re not at Hydra anymore, Buck. No one is going to take her away from you.” Steve pushes himself off the wall. “How long have you felt like this?”

“Couple months? Maybe a year? It’s hard to keep track of time.” Bucky shrugs.

“You need to go talk to her.”

“And say what? I know I’ve been an asshole but really, I’m crazy about you? Yeah, that will go over well.” Bucky replies sarcastically.

“Guys, we have a mission. Take off in ten minutes.” Natasha pokes her head into the room. Steve looks at him and he sighs.

“Alright.” He jumps in the shower quickly before getting dressed in his mission suit. He wants to run up to your room to say goodbye, but there isn’t time.

“You can talk when we get back,” Steve reassures his best friend.

One week later

“Bucky! Go left!” Steve shouts.

Trusting his best friend, the Winter Soldier veers to the left, fighting off anyone the comes his way. Light flashes a split second before a boom echoes. Bucky is flipped over, plain flaring up his side. He gasps for air, his chest refusing to expand.

Something is wrong.

“Bucky!” Steve shouts, quickly eliminating his opponents.

Bucky rolls over onto his back, he can feel his chest is wet and the whole area burns as he presses his hand to it. Natasha is there, hovering over him.

“Can you hear me?” She asks.

Bucky tries to push himself up but she forces him back. He needs to talk to you; he can’t die with you thinking he doesn’t care. “Y/N,” Bucky groans deliriously.

“Stay down!” Natasha yells.

He can hear her, but her words aren’t making sense.

“Bucky, stay down. Stay still.” Steve peels back the fabric of Bucky’s suit and winces. He snaps a couple pictures and sends them to Doctor Cho.

“That’s really bad,” Natasha says, her voice becoming muffled. The light filtering down between the leaves dims and Bucky is left in the dark, again.

***

There was a lot of commotion outside the kitchen, people running and shouting at each other. The team has been gone for a week and you were even more miserable than before.

Bucky had left without saying goodbye to you, which just confirmed your fears. He really didn’t care. Maria informed you that it was just because there wasn’t time, but she didn’t know what you did, that Bucky only tolerated you. He didn’t care.

All that time you spent falling in love with him was wasted. He just put up with you because you forced your company on him.

How could you be so blind?

The commotion gets louder as people are running back the other way. What the heck is going on? You move to the door in time to see a gurney being moved at top speed.

You would recognize that dark brown hair anywhere, the silver arm and red star were just extra giveaways.

Your heart turns to ice in your chest and you sink back against the door, legs unable to support you. His side was bright crimson red and sticky wet. His face was pale, and he was still.

So very still.

“Bucky?” You whisper. Your eyes turn blurry and you don’t understand why.

“Y/N,” Steve starts, touching your shoulder.

You jerk away from him. “I... I think the ceiling is leaking?” You stammer. That didn’t make sense, you were 30 floors from any type of roof, and there was a gym above you. Nothing to leak.

“We should talk.” He says softly. He helps you stand up and leads you to a private room.

You slump into a chair and look up at him. “You might want to get Tony on that leak.” Your voice wavers.

“There’s no leak, Y/N. You’re crying.”

“Well, that’s a lie.”

He gives a small smile. “Bucky is going to be okay.”

A dozen waspish replies run through your head, but then you remember how he looked on the gurney and you swallow every last one. “What happened?”

“A sniper. I missed it.” Steve curses under his breath. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

“You were gone for a long time.” You say.

He kneels in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. “He won’t want me to say this, because he’s a punk. But he was coming to talk to you, to tell you how he really feels when we got the mission.”

“Steve, you don’t have to do this. I know how he feels.” You sigh.

“No, you really don’t. He’ll want to see you when he wakes up.” He looks up at you with those impossibly blue eyes. “I know you’re hurt, but please. This is important.”

You nod wordlessly and he sits in the chair next to you.

It’s silent for hours. Your entire body is tense and aching. Steve hasn’t stopped bouncing his knee the entire time. You’ve recited every line from the Princess Bride in your head and now you’ve taken to reciting plots to Indiana Jones.

“Should it be taking this long?” You ask, looking over at the big man.

“I’m sure everything is fine.” He says, reassuring you.

You are not reassured.

The door opens and Natasha pokes her head in. “He’s awake. Asking for Y/N.” She jerks her head at you.

You look at Steve and he gestures for you to go. “Just tell him I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hand and nudges you towards the door.

The walk down the hall to the medical wing was the hardest, longest walk of your life. You hesitate outside the door before knocking once.

“Was.... was that a knock? I couldn’t tell.” You hear his voice on the other side of the door, sounding a little tired but still strong and it’s like a dam breaks in your chest. You lean against the door, unable to open it because you don’t want him to see you a crying mess.

“Y/N?” He calls.

“I-I’m here.” You reply.

“Are you going to come in?” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes you want to smack him a little.

“No. I-I think I’ll stay out here.” You can’t handle seeing him lying in that bed right now.

“As you wish.”

“Are you okay?” You ask, sliding down the door.

“I’ve had worse.” He says lightly.

“Steve feels bad. He blames himself.”

“Typical. He’s an idiot.”

“Bucky?” You start and he lets out a sigh. “Bucky? Are you okay?” You rush, reaching for the doorknob.

“I like the way you say my name.” He says softly. “Are you sure you won’t come in?”

“Can we just talk like this for a little bit?” You ask, rubbing your eyes.

He’s quiet for a minute. “As you wish.”

“I’m sorry I forced my company on you.” You say and he groans. “If I had known that it bothered you that much-“ the door behind you opens and you topple backward. “What are you doing out of bed?” You yell at his retreating back.

“I couldn’t hear you.” He says and you can’t tell if he’s lying or not.

“Get back in the bed!”

“As you wish.” He says patiently, hobbling back to the bed.

You scramble up and follow him. He eases himself back into the bed with a groan, capturing your hand as you stand next to him.

“Bucky,” you start again and he closes his eyes. His words sink in and you look at him sharply.

He laces his fingers with yours, his thumb tracing the shapes.

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?” He mumbles, resting your intertwined hands on his very broad chest.

“You know what! Stop it.”

“As you wish.” He says evenly. His eyes open and he looks at you square on. You try to back away but he holds you tight. “You wouldn’t fight a guy that just almost died, would you?”

You look at him for a minute before yanking your hand out of his. His perfect blue-green eyes turn sad as he nods a little.

“I understand.” He says softly.

You can’t hide the smile as you throw your arms over his shoulders, hugging him as best you could, so instead, you choose to hide your face. He lets out a small groan but his arms encircle you anyway. Then you remember that he was shot.

“Oh shit!” You try to pull away but he doesn’t let you. “Bucky-“

“It’s worth the pain.” He shifts you so that you’re more on the bed than off, and still able to touch him. “You asked why I never touched you.”

“We don’t have to talk about that.” You rush, just wanting him to rest.

“But I want to, so we’re going to.” He takes your hand and rests it on his chest, playing with your fingers. “It was ingrained into me over and over again, for seventy years, that I was nothing. That I deserved nothing. Anything I wanted, anything I enjoyed, it was taken away. I couldn’t let anyone see how I really felt, you’d be taken away.”

“You don’t think you deserve to be happy? Even after all this time? All the pain you’ve been through?”

“How can I? After everything I’ve done?”

You press a finger to his lips. “Because if you had a choice, you wouldn’t have done all those things. That’s the difference between you and The Winter Soldier. You deserve all the happiness in the world, Bucky.” You say gently, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. “And I’m going to be here to make sure you get it all.”

“As you wish.” He mumbles quietly.

Tag List: (If I forget anyone, I’m so sorry.)

@everythingisoverrated @dsakita @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @alexblrus @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @thinkingsofamadwoman @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @septic-boye @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @moli1497 @ellaenchanted91 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @uncledaddykelbo @thirstybitchqueen

#bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #fluff #marvel #fanfic #writing #mermaidxatxheart #princess bride

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