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ultralightpoe · 5 months

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Strangers - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Please don't hate me. I was reading a Midsummer nights dream when I wrote this.

Warning: Fighting, ptsd

Word Count: 3151

Part One : Avoidance

Part Two: Chaos

My main Masterlist

Enjoy!

((Please don't hate me. I was reading a Midsummer nights dream when I wrote this. ))

“You mean to tell me that you’ve combed through every inch of that footage? That you have tried tracking her suit and you’ve-”

“YES BARNES! YES!” The surveillance employee snaps, snatching the glasses off his face and rubbing the point between his eyebrows. Never, not once, had Eric Micheals raised his voice at a higher man. Let alone the Winter Fucking Soldier.

But he didn’t know how else to say it. They combed through every piece of evidence, every second of footage and all the villages nearby. They. Found. Nothing.

“How does someone just disappear? Are there any blindspots in the-”

“Even if there were blindspots in the footage we would have seen her somewhere.” Eric snaps, and Bucky feels his fists clench, an unnatural anger pounding in his chest. Rationally he knew that the kid was just doing his job, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe without you. “If she left that building then we would have seen her.”

“We combed through the building to find her-”

“Enough.” Steve sighs, stepping between Bucky and his target. “We know Y/n got out. But she apparently didn’t take a natural exit.”

“Then how did she-” Nat begins but Steve cuts her a quick glance to silence her, turning back to Bucky. “We’ll figure it out, Buck. She’s out there-”

“I know she’s out there.” Bucky snaps, rolling his eyes as his flesh hand travels to the ache in his chest. “I can feel her, she’s right here.”

“You can feel her?” Tony scoffs, shooting everyone else a ‘can you believe this?’ look as Sam steps forward.

“Then we keep looking, keep brainstorming ways to find her.” Finally Bucky lets out a breath, walking to his pal with a calm expression. At least someone here was in his corner.

There was a thick feeling in your chest, one that you could not quite explain, but you knew it was there. Like a cord was wrapped to your ribcage and pulling, and no matter which way you turned or walked you just couldn’t seem to shake it.

The woman you were staying with often watched you closely, watching as you shuffled around her home in an attempt to ease the pressure, if she thought it weird she didn’t say anything on it. But then again it was already weird enough that she had someone in her house making plants grow at the speed of light and not have a clue as to who she was.

But that didn’t stop her from taking care of you. She fed you a hot meal morning and night, gave you a warm bed to sleep in and often carted you around town to help with her work.

She sold flowers, and ever since you had gotten involved she had never ending line out the door to buy your once in a lifetime flowers.

You felt powerful and endless, and though you had no clue who you were you knew you had never felt this kind of power before. And even with all that you still felt…. Empty. Like you were missing something very important.

Never ending, the pressure in your ribcage only tightening more.

Like today, walking behind the strange woman with a hand on your side, following her around the market as people all stopped to turn to you with shocked expressions. You understood their expressions, and had been shocked yourself when you saw how long your hair had been and the vines growing around your arms that you just couldn’t seem to shake.

You looked like a goddess.

You just wish you remembered who you were.

It was not long before the people around you figured out that just a touch from you was a healing spell, and soon enough everyone was desperate to touch you. People calling for you as you pass, screaming out a name you didn’t know as the stranger who saved you snatches your wrist, jolting back when the gray of her hair darkens back to the original color and some of the wrinkles along her face disappear.

You can only stare, blinking slowly as she snatches her hand away quickly. And though you had no memories you knew what you had just done was wrong. A wave of panic fills you and you find yourself yearning for something. The smell of black coffee and spearmint filling your senses as she mumbles an apology.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” She mumbles, the russian accent heavier from the adrenaline. “Come. Come. We go before they find us.”

“I want to heal.” You croak out, showing your hands before gesturing to the groups you had left behind you. “I can help-”

“Okay. Okay.” She mumbles, slowly leading you back to them, this time careful not to touch you.

You try not to be stung by that, and that heavy feeling in your chest dampens more. You were missing something.

He had to find you, he knew something was wrong.

If anyone were to hear him talk about it they would think he was crazy, but he felt it. The lack of energy and the heavy feeling in his chest. It was like he could feel your pain even while he was away.

“Buck.” Someone calls and he has to turn to find Sam walking to him, a small smile on his face. That was another reason Bucky knew something was wrong, he had NEVER seen Sam so sprightly.

It was like you had completely healed every single thing. Something he had never seen you do before, sure you helped in the med bay sometimes but even that was simple stuff that took most of your energy. He remembers all the times he had come in himself needing stitches.

“You know I heal fast, right doll?” He laughs, watching as you blush and not make eye contact while you continue stitching him up.

“This will help heal you faster, and I would very much appreciate it if you would stop getting shot so much.” You try to smile, eyes widening as he gasps out to scare you, realizing what he had done a second later. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry,” He laughs, reaching his flesh hand up to swipe at your cheek. “I had to, you know it. You’re so anxious and I’m not gonna die on ya dollface.”

“I’m not your dollface right now Barnes”

“You’re always my dollface, even when you’re mad at me.” He smiles from ear to ear. “What time is your shift over, we can head over to the diner later.”

“Oh, I’m just helping out right now.” You smile and he blinks.

“You’re helping out? Doing all this and not getting paid?”

“I’ll let you buy me dinner as payment.” You smile, giving him a wink and then walking off for your next client.

It still amazed him how you convinced Stark to take public patients to allow better access to medicine and tech that the Avengers could provide.

“Buck? You hear me?” Sam calls, snapping his fingers.

“What?” The soldier asks, blinking slowly as he tries to snap you out of his thoughts for a second.

“I asked if you wanted help watering Y/ns plants.” Sam repeats himself, moving to grab another water canister as Bucky thanks him and gets back to working. His thoughts go back to the clinic you had been running, something he checked on everyday to make sure it was still running-

“Y/n.” He gasps, snapping to Sam.

“What?”

“Y/n. I know how to find her. I know how to find my girl.” Bucky laughs, dropping the water canister and splitting from the room with Sam hot on his heels. He dashes to the surveillance room, shocking Clint and Natasha on their shift.

“What now Bucky?” Clint groans, turning on his hearing aid as Nat slaps his arm.

“I know how to find Y/n-”

“Barnes, we have been through this. We’ve check-”

“Check the news for towns near the compound we rushed. Check for any healing activity.”

“Healing activity?” An intern laughs. “Like ibuprofen sales?”

His metal arm is reaching out quickly to snatch the shirt of the intern, pulling him up. “You about to make fun of the one person in this building who made you a specialized medicine for your mothers chemo therapy?”

“N-No man-”

“Sir.”

“NO SIR!” The kid cries out and Bucky releases him, rolling his eyes as the kid dashes past. “The Y/n I know would find a way to help anyone near her. And if she can heal Sam down to the lungs then she has enough energy to perform some miracles.”

“You don’t even know if she ma-”

“My girl made it out. And my girl is definitely out there making a change so let’s go.”

There were a lot of sick people here, from asthma to cancer to allergies. And they all wanted your help, which you were more than happy to give.

Child to mother to stranger to another child. Over and over they all kept coming.

You did what you could, touching their forehead or hands, some of them asked for a kiss on their head.

You did as much as you could, and hadn’t even realized when you started bleeding from your nose until the strange woman ushers you away, still not touching you herself.

“Melina.” Someone calls, and a younger woman with blonde hair appears before you, eyes wild as she taked you in. “Is it true.”

“Yelena.” The brunette stranger warns, and just like that you had two names but there was only one stuck on your tongue.

“Bucky.” You blurt and both women snap their attention to you.

“She is a god.” Yelena blurts and Melina shakes her head.

“A curse.”

“I’m lost.” You murmur, but they don’t seem to hear you, too busy arguing over each other.

“She went through the earth.” Bucky smiles, looking at the basement where they had lost you. Now unflooded and easier to search it was clear how you had managed to get out. You had quite literally gone through the earth.

It was like you had sunk through like a soft mattress, in a moment of panic you drew from the earth.

“Barnes.” Nat calls, red hair appearing quickly. “We got a hit.”

“We did?”

“You won’t believe what town we found her in.”

There was a heavy commotion, the sound of heavy wind and the next thing you knew everyone was dashing to hide, which made your instincts snap out.

Turning to look you see some of the dust rising up before you blink and see Cornell there, a silent scream tears through you as you dash for shelter as well, bare feet scraping against the concrete.

You had lost Melina and Yelena that morning, and now you wish you hadn’t strayed as you make a mad dash through the area, hearing footsteps follow you.

A small thud is heard to your right, a soft curse of a man, and when you look back to see you find a taller male with metal bird winds dodging from rocks being thrown by children. He ducks from their rocks, calling for them to calm down before the kids all yell out and run, when he removes his arm you spot a look of shock over his face.

Before you can even realize what you had done you see vines grow quickly, snatching him by the ankles and throwing him up before he could retaliate.

He searches around for the source, spotting you with a shocked look. “Y/n, IT’S SAM!”

But you were already dashing, the bottom of your foot scraping before it heals in a flash as you dash up a fallen post before a blur of red hair fills your vision and you are lashing out once more to protect yourself.

Cornell had come back for you, you knew it. This was the end of it all.

The female is blocked by a tree and another figure with a bow and arrow is pulled into the dirt as you dash up the post and climb into an abandoned building, moving to find a space to hide.

“Jesus, she’s gone wild.” Clint gasps, trying to take his foot out of the quicksand you had formed under him while Nat moves around the tree to help him.

“This is my fault.”

“You know I love you, but right now I’m gonna have to agree.” The deaf man gasps as Steve and Bucky speed to them.

“Which direction?” Steve asks, but Bucky is already passing, almost like he could already sense where you had gone. Steve follows close and Nat gives one more look to Clint before he shakes her off and turns to Sam for help.

“We should have brought the witch.” Clint snaps, allowing Sam to coach him out.

Steve and Bucky take cover by the wall, looking to the post you had climbed as Nat takes the lead, being the first to climb up.

“Never thought we would be hiding from Y/n.” Steve whispers through the comns.

“It’s not Y/n, she was panicked and scared and mumbled something about Cornell.” Sam grunts.

“She said Cornell?” Bucky blurts, a little louder than intended .

“No. I just gave you misinformation for fun-”

“Shut. Up.” He snaps, using his metal arm as leverage up the beam to get to you faster. “Y/n!”

The ground beneath the building shakes a bit, and he hits the floor of the building to hold himself stable, taking a moment to review his surroundings. No gun in sight, and no weapons shown. You were an enemy but you were also still attacking.

“Y/n!” He calls again, the ground shakes more.

“Barnes!” Nat calls, lunging in with Steve.

“Y/N!” Cornell calls, but you couldn’t stop, you were running. You were free and there was nothing that was going to stop you now.

You were no longer his pet.

A shot rings out as the forest branches tear at your skin, and you don’t recognize the pain until you step on the leg that had been shot and a scream tears through your throat as you hit the floor, pain filling your body.

You try to silence yourself, you really do but there is nothing that could stop the sobs as you try to pick yourself back up, you had to do this. You had to save yourself.

There is a blur in the corner of your eye and you were sure Cornell had caught up, so you pull the strength to stand and keep running.

Once you hear that name, the name you recognize as your own, you can do nothing but run.

There are people running behind you, but you don’t risk a look back, and you don’t have enough energy to fight them so you focus on running.

This was something you knew, you were going to be free.

There is a blur to your right, and you realize that you are running against people with superspeed and can’t really fight that. So you turn to the left, only to be tackled by a figure you hadn’t even seen.

“Dollface.” Someone gasps out, the feeling of metal and flesh wraps around you in a soft embrace as they try to slow you down. “Cornell is not here. Dollface I swear it.”

The blur had caught up, holding out his hands to you in a calming manner, doing his best to ease you down from the very tightrope you had formed.

“Cornell is not here, okay? I’ve got ya. I’ve got ya.” The stranger hushes you, getting closer and closer.

You recognized it now, you knew him. This was your closest companion. He had saved you from Cornell and he had come for you.

So you take a deep breath, turning to him with tears in your eyes as you try to calm down, trying to remember how you had ended up here in the first place.

“You came for me…” You whisper, a sob escaping your lips. “I’m sorry I ran.”

“It’s okay.” The man holding you eases, letting go of you slowly. “We’re here for you dollface.”

“Thank you….” You cry, missing the confusion on his face when you turn away from him. “Thank you for coming back for me Stevie.”

“I’m Steve.” The blonde stranger smiles, rubbing your shoulders. “But my friends call me Stevie.”

“Stevie…”

Bucky is at an absolute loss of words, feeling you rush from his grasp to jump into Steve’s arms quickly, a pang of jealousy crossing through him when he sees Steve wrap his arms around you and kiss your head.

This can’t be real.

He doesn’t know what to think, he doesn’t know what to do.

Everything in him is screaming to grab your attention and bring you into his arms, apologize for ever ignoring you and taking what he had for granted. To promise that he will never leave you again and beg you to forgive him.

But you are sobbing into Steve’s chest and before he can act on his thoughts he catches Nat’s eyes. But when he was expecting a warning from his friend he was mistaken, instead he saw a devastating jealousy written over her face as she watches Steve hug you.

There is another sinking feeling as he realizes, finally, why Natasha had been so firm on protecting him in this situation.

“You both are so wrapped up in each other that you forget to breathe without each other. Codependency hurts more when it’s forcefully torn rather than willingly.”

Natasha had gotten attached…. To Steve.

Tony is waiting at the landing pad when the quinjet arrives, nerves in his stomach rumbling. He hadn’t received a confirmation from anyone, and that was never a good sign. So he was the first out, watching as the ramp door opened and his team was revealed.

A relieved gasp escapes him when he sees you, curled into a blanket with vines covering your arms and legs, a bit of green smudging your cheek and the tips of your fingers. He takes a couple quick steps forward, ready to greet you, until he sees Natasha storm down.

“What’s going on Widow?” He asks, only for her to rush past with Clint on her heels. Sam follows, rubbing the back of his neck with a saddened expression.

Bucky walks up next, jaw tight and his fists tense as Tony looks at him.

“Why aren’t you with Y/n?” He hated Bucky, but even he knew this was unsettling.

“Ask. Stevie.” Bucky snaps, shouldering past Tony as he finally looks back to where you are holding on to Steve’s hand, just like you had the first time he brought you here.

“This is a mess.” Steve whispers, leading you to the door. “A mess I don’t know how to fix.”

(Next and FINAL PART here )

TAGLIST:::: (this was alottttt and I hope they all worked. Love you all and I hope you enjoyed this part!)

@m00n5t0n3 @hizzielover @ozwriterchick @ordelixx @millercontracting @aboobie @sandyruston @paankhaleyaar @bisexualnikkisixx @kaitlin013106 @mich1551-blog @fandomsfeminismandme @kandis-mom @sadieurlady @aesthetic0cherryblossom @louxbloom @casa-boiardi @scorpiosaintt @mrsbarnes-avenger @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 @officialnighttime @violetwinterwidow01 @redbloodedgurl @wasalreadyhere @hereforfun-31 @scott-loki-barnes @lexi-anastasia @just-henny @traderjoesmints @buggy14 @stoner420things69 @mereptt @differenttyphoonwerewolf @abcdestinyyyy @lokislady82 @spookyparadisesheep @minaxcarter @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @whatishappeninghere81 @vicmc624 @elite4cekalyma @unaxv @scott-loki-barnes @zephyrmonkey @classyunknownlover @luciaexcorvus @littlewhiterose @cyberficlya @m00n5t0n3 @donttalktosposts @magnificentsvn @jenniferpendragon @ozwriterchick @calwitch

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

For the “I love you” prompts, maybe Eddie x Fem!Reader for overheard? Can lead to fluff or smut :) I was thinking Reader overhears Eddie, but whatever works for you! - @munson-blurbs 💚

AN | Buckle up for some angst! 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie Munson’s face had been pulled into a deep frown the entire evening. Well - it hadn’t been… until he’d spotted you. It wasn’t you per se, but it was the guy you were with; a tall, dark haired and objectively handsome guy.

You’d told Eddie you couldn’t hang out with the gang because you had a test to study for. He hadn’t expected a test to come in the form of a man, but then again, he thought bitterly to himself, he wasn’t studying at the local community college with you so perhaps he had no clue.

Steve clocked his shift in mood immediately and gently nudged Eddie’s side, catching his attention, “what’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to commit an actual murder.”

“Nothing,” he hissed through gritted teeth, shaking his head as he tried to keep his cool, “‘m fine, Steve.”

Steve made a small, noncommittal sound before following Eddie's line of sight and immediately realizing what the problem was. There you were, looking all pretty and happy, and very clearly on a date. On a date that wasn’t with Eddie. Oof.

“Eddie-”

“It’s fine, Stevie,” he promised but the heartbroken look on his face suggested that he was anything but okay, “she’s entitled to date whoever she wants.”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Nope,” he sighed lightly, “but I’m not surprised. Things have been different since…”

Since you’d broken up with Eddie.

“Hey,” Steve gave Eddie’s shoulder a reassuring little squeeze, “it’ll be okay - things will be better soon. It’s still kinda fresh right now.”

“Doesn’t seem to be affecting her,” they both watched as you laughed, shoulders shaking from your giggles and a big smile on your face. You looked genuinely fine, “she just moved right on.”

“Eddie-”

“It’s whatever,” the curly haired boy insisted but Steve wasn’t buying it in the slightest. But all he could do right now was be there for his friend, however he needed him, “c’mon, the girls wanted to go and get ice cream.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You liked Eric, you really did. He was nice in an authentic way, not overly preppy or anything else and you’d met him in one of your economics classes. He’d asked you out but hadn’t made you uncomfortable or anything else. So you’d said and by now had gone on a few dates with him. And they’d all been lovely and he made you laugh and he made you feel special and he’d only kissed chastely a few times.

Realistically, he would have been the perfect boyfriend. If only you hadn’t been so hung up on your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend. Eddie.

It was almost laughable considering you were the one that had broken up with him. But your intentions had been good…you’d thought anyway. And yet it still hurt so much. You could barely stand being around Eddie because of how much you still loved him. Regardless, you figured he’d move on and find someone better, someone that loved him as he should be loved eventually. You would just have to learn to deal.

You paced around the room as you waited for Eric to pick up the phone….half of you was hoping that he wouldn’t pick up at all. But you just wanted to get this over with. Just when you thought it would ring out, he picked up, “hello?”

“Hey,” you were almost whispering as you twirled the cord with your fingers, “it’s just me.”

“Hey just me,” he teased, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Umm,” you paused for a moment, “listen, I want to be straightforward and honest with you. I really like you, but…I- ugh…”

“Can’t date me,” he finished for you and to your surprise he didn’t sound rude or upset, “I get it. I kinda had a feeling.”

“It’s not you,” you cringed at how bad that sounded out loud, “really. I’m just…not over my ex as much as I thought I would be and I don’t want to do that to you either. So…yeah.”

“It’s okay,” he promised kindly, “I appreciate the honesty and to be honest in my own way, it sucks because I think you’re great. Maybe we can still be friends down the road if you want.”

“I think you’re great too,” and you meant it, “thanks for understanding.”

“Anytime. And who knows - maybe things will change between you and your ex.”

“Maybe…”

But you highly doubted Eddie would ever want anything to do with you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Was a house party really going to clear your head and get your mind off of Eddie? You doubted it but according to Robin and Nancy it was worth a try. So here you were, clutching a lukewarm beer in a red plastic cup at the house of some guy you all sort of knew. It wasn’t great, but at least you were thinking about something else…even if that something else was how gross and sweaty the people around you were.

You finished off your beer before finding Robin and grabbing her hand so she would follow you to the kitchen. It was a slight reprieve from the commotion in the other rooms and you let out a long breath. Robin mirrored you before the two of you exchanged a small giggle.

“This is terrible,” you groaned as she nodded, “can we get out of here and just go home and have a movie marathon?”

“Only if there’s pizza,” she suggested as you nodded happily, “then it’s a deal. I’ll go and grab Nance.”

“I’ll get Steve,” you’d spied him going out to the backyard earlier and decided to look for him there. He’d had the right idea of getting out of the packed house anyway. You pushed through the throng of people before squeezing through the sliding glass door and making it outside. You let out a long sigh of relief at the feeling of the cool air on your skin, “Stevie?”

You spotted what you were sure was his figure around the corner, and walked towards him. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you realized that someone was with him. You leaned against the side of the house in an effort to hide yourself as you now hoped he didn’t hear you. You were nosey - it was only natural.

“C’mon,” you knew that was Steve’s pleading voice; these days it was often reserved for the young kindergarteners he taught, “just one time, what could be so bad. One date won’t hurt.”

“I’m not interested,” Eddie/ That was absolutely Eddie’s voice. You stiffened at the sound but didn’t move to leave, “can we please just drop it?”

“She’s really interested,” you wondered who she was, a shiver of jealousy running down your spine. Although you really had no room or reason to be jealous, “she’s a nice girl - she’s one of the admin assistants at the school office. I kinda talked you up to her and she said she’s love to go out. We could even do something like a double date.”

Ugh, Steve. He was your friend - and Eddie’s - and you knew he only wanted the best for you both. It made sense that he would want Eddie to perk up. It still stung though, kinda, sorta.

“Stevie,” Eddie sighed heavily, “I’m not ready and now’s just…not a good time.”

“It’s been three months, Eds.”

“I know,” you blinked away the tears that had started to prickle up. It was your fault - you were the reason he was still heartbroken, “but it just…still hurts.”

“At some point you’re going to have to let go…”

“I can’t just do that!” you heard him groan in frustration, “it’s not that easy.”

“Eddie-”

“I’m in love with her,” and oh. That made your heart constrict. You slapped your hand over your mouth in order to keep from making any sounds out loud, “I’m still in love with her, man. I can’t just get over her. I don’t think I ever will. She was everything to me.”

“I know it hurts-”

“But I guess I meant nothing to her.”

And that right there, broke your heart more than anything else. He thought you didn’t love him, that he hadn’t been the best thing to happen to you. Like he was just some guy. He couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“That’s not true,” Steve insisted softly. At least he knew, “she loved you - she still does.”

“She moved on very quickly,” he scoffed, “I might as well be dead to her.”

You couldn’t listen to this any longer, your heart breaking with every word. You wiped away your tears before running back inside and moving to find Robin. You found her with Nancy, the two of them making out in the kitchen.

“I gotta go,” you squeaked, trying to keep from totally falling apart, “‘m gonna go home.”

“What about movie night?” the girls exchanged a nervous glance at your sudden upset appearance, “babe-”

“‘s okay,” you lied, “I just…I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

And you rushed out, ready to go home and cry yourself to sleep. But it was well deserved because you felt like the worst person in the world.

Then you remembered - you didn’t even have a ride home, “fuck.”

But you weren’t about to go back and ask for a ride. You were too stubborn and foolish to do that. Instead you’d walk back to your apartment. Even if it was a stupid thing to do.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were about halfway home when you heard a car on the side of the road. It was slowing down and you were immediately on edge. You refused to look, hoping that whoever it was would get the hint and leave you alone. But then the car stopped completely, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing.

“What are you doing out here!?” you knew that voice…you just hadn’t expected to hear it again. Not so soon, not like this, “are you insane? It’s dark and late at night.”

“Eddie?” you turned your tearstained face towards him and both of you froze. His expression softened slightly and you sniffled, “what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he rubbed a hand over his tired face, “Robin and Nance said you left the party in a hurry and you were crying. And you didn’t have a ride home. Knowing how stubborn you are, I figured you’d just walk home. So - here we are.”

“But…I don’t understand,” you shook your head softly, wondering if this was some sort of dream your mind was conjuring up in order to make you feel better, “why? Y-you hate me…you should.”

“Because I wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he whispered, a conflicted expression in his eyes, “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“Eddie…” fuck. He missed the way his name sounded when you spoke it, “I’ll be okay. Just go home and I can walk the rest of the way. I don’t want you to go out of your way for me.”

“Not happening,” he insisted, the boy just as stubborn as you, “get in the van and I’ll take you home.”

You looked at him, long and hard, so many things that you wanted to tell him, “really, it’s okay.”

“It’s not a choice,” he held his hand out towards, motioning you towards him. You were shocked that he was still being so kind and gentle with you. He was way too good for you, “baby.”

You both realized his blunder at the same time and you opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m really, really sorry.”

“For what?” his voice cracked, on the verge of tears as much as you were.

“For breaking up with you,” you whispered, almost inaudible, “for making you feel like I didn’t love you. For making you feel like you weren’t good even. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. I just…I wanted you to know that. You deserve to know that.”

“You say that, but you still broke up with me,” he shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was no big deal. But you could see right through him, “so. It is what it is.”

“I…I did,” you agreed, “the worst mistake of my life. But that’s neither here nor there. Just I wanted you to know that it wasn’t you at all.”

“Mistake?” Were you completely deluded or was that a bit of hope in this voice? You nodded, “you moved on pretty fast…I saw you with that guy last week. When you said you couldn’t make it to movie night because you were studying.”

“To be fair, we had studied earlier and then decided to go out,” you said meekly, “that was Eric. We went out a few times…but I ended things with him a few days ago. It wasn’t anything that serious.”

“Why?” he swallowed thickly, “you seemed happy.”

“Eric was a nice guy,” you admitted, “but he wasn’t for me. And I told him that I wasn’t ready for anything. Because I, umm, I was still trying to get over you.”

“I don’t get it,” he sighed softly, “you broke up with me. Why? Why did you really do it?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt you!” you blurted out, and he looked at you in surprise, “I…Eddie, I just never wanted to be the one to hold you back from anything. Never wanted you to have to be anyone different than who you were. I feel like we’re so different and I never wanted you to have to change or just, deal with me. Because you deserve everything and I don’t know if I could give that to you. I-I thought that one day you’ll meet someone who deserves you.”

“You are…” he shook his head before taking a step closer to you, “such a stubborn, wonderful little thing. I’ve never once thought of any of that. I love that we’re different - we’re different but still get to be ourselves. I love all the things that you do even if they make sense to me or whatever, because you love them. And I love you. I’ve already met someone that deserves me - you.”

“Eddie-”

“I’ve never once thought you’d hold me back,” he promised, “if anything, I thought it’d be the other way around. We always support each other - that’s never going to change. I love you and I always will.”

“You don’t have to say that-”

“I mean it,” he put his hand on your face and gently stroked his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “the last few months without you have been the worst ever. I just want you. Everything else we can figure out. We’ll always figure it out together.”

“I…you still want me?” you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, “even after I…broke your heart?”

“I will always want you,” he leaned in, face so close to yours. You could just lean in a little and you’d be kissing him. Even if we did break up for a bit. I love you. That’s all that matters.”

“I love you, Eddie,” you let him lean in and kiss you. Softly, more of a gentle brushing of lips than anything. But that was all you needed right now.

“I know,” he grinned, that wonderful magic smile stretching across his features, “c’mon, let me take you home, princess.”

“Okay,” you let him take your hand in his, threading your fingers together, “will you stay?”

“Do you want me to?” he asked, nervous that somehow you might change your mind.

“I do,” you squeeze his hand gently, “I don’t ever want you to leave.”

“I won’t,” he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “I won’t ever leave.”

“Good,” you nodded, throwing your arms tightly around him, “I won’t ever leave either. I love you.”

“I love you too, princess.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader

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greenhorn-art · 3 months

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World Champions | Artwork for World Champions by TheDefenestrator by TheDefenestrator, art by Blurb_brain

Fandom: The King's Avatar | 全职高手

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Words: 71 944

At the end of season 4 of the Glory Pro Alliance, the government finally receives the information it has been waiting for: The other players have caught up. Or, In which Glory has been a government recruitment ploy for remote-piloted mecha operators all along.

About the Book

FONTS: Mundo Serif, Azonix [dafont], Segoe UI Symbol

IMAGES: Illustration by Blurb_brain [AO3]; cover image by NASA ID: 440611 [Rawpixel]; Planet Earth background ID: 6331593 [Rawpixel]; Circuit lines background ID: 3117935 [Rawpixel]; endpapers' image by Eric Eastman [Unsplash]; Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer [The King's Avatar Wikia]

MATERIALS: regular printer paper (8.5"x11", 96 bright, 20lb), 80pt bookboard, Iris Bookcloth (colour: Black Pearl), Neenah cardstock (8.5"x11", bright white, 65lb), waxed linen thread (white, 30/3 size), embroidery floss (shades 3750, 350, 3845, 370), leather cording (1.9mm diameter), Reeves’ acrylic paint (Mars Black, Phthalo Blue, Titanum White), Americana acrylic paint (glow in the dark), ph neutral pva glue (Books by Hand)

PROGRAMS USED: Typeset in Affinity Publisher, cover/title page/endpapers designed in Affinity Designer/Photo, QR codes generated with LibreOffice Writer, PDF arranged for printing with Bookbinder-JS

BINDING STYLE: quarto, case bound (slightly rounded, with oxford hollow, forgot to use tapes)

Fenes' "Glory's tech isn't handwaved" AU. This was great! Funny and creative, and I'm both amazed and full of admiration for Fenes' ability to juggle so many characters.

I was feeling excited and ambitious with this one. Tried some new fun things (double core endbands, painted edges) and used some new equipment (a lying press).

The Text

TITLE/HEADINGS FONT: Azonix says 'SciFi' to me, it's a bold, non-serif, sleek font.

BODY FONT: Mundo Serif, it's a decent serif body font I haven't used before. Felt like it worked with Azonix.

SCENE BREAKS: a special character in Segoe UI Symbol of a black & white icon of Earth, the globe showing Asia.

TYPESETTING: Finished typesetting the fic, left document open on my laptop, laptop's battery failed, file now crashes immediately upon reopening, issue persists with copied versions of file (；￣Д￣) . Thankfully I had a backup file for the typeset with the barebones of the text, so I didn't have to restart from scratch...

Title Page

My thinking: it takes place in space, the world's at stake, and it's the dawn of a new horizon for Earth. Glory and the titular champions are represented by Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer – the captains of what I'd call the 'big 5' teams. A circuitry board background element hints at the tech/mecha nature of the story's competition. It may not match Blurb's art, but I hope I was able to convey some of what the story is about.

The circuitry image is used as decoration throughout the book. I only used the avatars of the top five teams' captains because too many silhouettes would lessen their impact and readability. (Removing the backgrounds was tedious, but worth it.)

Here's what it should have looked like. The test prints for this and the BB art were fine, but I think my inkjet started running out of ink just when I printed the final copies and I didn't reprint them. (Too impatient, really wanted to finish up and read the book)

The Cover

World Champions is another Big Bang fic, and once again I based some of my design choices off of the accompanying artwork. The dominant colours of Blurb_brain's illustration are red and blue-green.

COVER PAPER: For the decorative cover material I used NASA's ASTER image of Poyang Lake. NASA has some really interesting photography some of which remind me of marbled paper, thought it could be interesting. I chose this image of Poyang Lake because 1) it's in China, 2) the colours were similar to Blurb's awesome illustration (fate strikes again, dropping matching images and artwork into my lap!), and 3) NASA is tangentially relevant to the fic, which takes place in space.

BOOKCLOTH: Verona bookcloth in the shade Black Pearl, a lovely dark navy blue colour. Thought it suited the cover paper and title page. (Bought it for this fic specifically, but the colour goes well with almost all of my decorative papers so it should see a lot of use in the future!)

Endpapers

The final decision that held this project at a standstill for two months. In the end I drew inspiration from the matchups against the final opponent in the story. The image I used is a little chaotic and a little too unrelated to identify why I picked it without an explanation, but this book is for me and I know why, so there. (Note that I played around with the colours and cropped the photo.)

Endpaper inspiration: the maps for the matches against the Infilhites

"a long bridge through an enormous tube-like hall, where light seem to come from every side through stained glass windows. It was visually confusing, limited lateral motion" "a warehouse, crates stacked on and beside metal racks that went all the way to the ceiling." "a house of mirrors, fully enclosed to be sure the Infhillte couldn’t fly out of it." "like a volcano, rivers of lava moving sluggishly down a slope, occasional vents of overheated air nearby." "a series of overlapping bridges between halls and stairways, level after level layered over an open abyss."

Trimming & Painting the Edges

Going all out, a 2-for1 deal: the opportunity to use my lying press for the first time and learn a new technique!

TRIMMING: Used a paring chisel and lying press.

CHISEL: The 1.25" wide paring chisel I used was form a modern manufacturer. (Vintage paring chisels are very thin, enough so that you can bend/flex the blade. But don't do that.) It's long and wide blade made it easier to register against the surface of the press for consistent cuts. Looks like this one below from Lee Valley.

LYING PRESS: My dad's project. Solid black walnut, hand carved screws and internal threads — he even made the tools to make the threads too! The jaws of the press are each 3 7/8" wide. It's big and heavy (though much smaller than full-sized professional ones omg), but there's enough of a flat surface to register the chisel against. A thicc boi, much like this one below from Bookbinding Supplies.

PAINTED EDGES: The idea was to have dark navy edges, speckled with white stars. I used acrylic from a tube to paint the edges — tutorials recommended it over liquid bottled acrylic, and I had an old set hanging around. Had to water it down because otherwise the paint just flaked off.

My test of trimming and painting went well. Then the trimmed book itself came out slightly crooked, the paint required significantly more watering-down than before, and the white paint did not want to be both opaque and speckle-able. Unfortunate, but still book-shaped! And now I have an idea of what to do differently next time.

Also, did not like the glow-in-the-dark paint. Looked too translucent in the light when compared to the white acrylic, and needed a thicker coat to be visible in the dark. (The thickness combined with the translucence and base colour kinda reminded me of boogers... Ended up scrapping most of it off, so there's not much left to glow.)

Endbands

Still in the mood to have fun and go all-out, I attempted double-core endbands for the first time.

TUTORIAL: YouTube @ BookbindersChronicle: Bookbinding 101 Sewing Headbands Session 2. Also watched @ DAS Bookbinding's Double-Core Endband // Adventures in Bookbinding, but I personally found Chronicle's closeup video easier to follow.

I used embroidery floss from a 100pk of assorted colours off Amazon, wrapped around a core of 1.9mm leather cording from Michaels. I drew from Blurb_brain's art for the general colours, choosing a dark base, with red, blue-green, and gold. The specific shades were picked to go with the cover.

#World Champions #TheDefenestrator #Blurb_brain #qzgs #tka #the king's avatar #fanfiction #bookbinding #fanbinding

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buzzcutssn · 1 year

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He's just so🤏🤏

#blutige anfänger #eric cordes

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deputyrook · 7 months

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Impressions- 2/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

(Repost after I accidentally deleted my tumblr 😭)

PART 1.

You're a reluctant psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(Can I make it any more obvious?)

Word count: 3498

WARNINGS: Gaslightling, corruption, stockholm syndrome, some drug use (painkillers), blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, general Saw-levels of horror.

this fic is kind of goofy, because I'm writing it for fun and not taking it super seriously! enjoy 💕

“Mark didn’t hit on you, did he?” Kerry asks over the phone, a note of disgust in her voice, “If he did, I’ll kick his ass. Though… you didn't exactly look uncomfortable when you fell into his arms yesterday. Am I wrong?”

Sometimes, you wondered how Kerry could be so oblivious.

You swallow a handful of painkillers before you answer her, washing them down with a swig of stale soda that’s been sitting out on your counter.

“He's, what, ten years older than us?” You ask, setting down the can and playing with the cord of your telephone.

“That’s not an answer,” Kerry teases, “And he’s early forties, I think. Hey, I won’t stop you. I'll sure as hell judge you, but I won't stop you.”

The events of the prior evening feel surreal now, in the morning light of the next day. Detective Mark Hoffman hasn’t contacted you, and if you didn’t have his phone number saved in your cell, you would have thought the entire car ride had been a bad dream.

You can’t help but second guess yourself now- had he ever actually admitted to being an accomplice? What if he was just a defensive asshole, and you’d misinterpreted everything again? The doubts creep in, now that your visions have been chased away, back into hiding in the recesses of your mind.

“Not interested,” you mutter. “I wasn’t feeling great last night, you know that. I barely remember getting home.”

Kerry’s tone sobers at that, and you hear her sigh. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I know you don’t like doing that, but we were completely out of leads.”

“And you still are,” you note, “I didn’t dream of anything useful last night, by the way. Total void.” If you’re lucky, you’ll never have another vision about the Jigsaw murders, though you suspect you’ve been plunged headfirst into the thick of it.

The painkillers will keep the flashes at bay, at least for now. The rest will come to you, jumbled and nonsensical, when it’s least convenient.

“Not entirely. But how are you feeling?” Kerry asks. She’s never been the best at heart-to-hearts, or at fielding your psychic nonsense, but you can hear the genuine concern in her voice for you. You wish you could tell her- the killer she hunts is right there, in the office across the hall, she could be in danger- but with the potential risk to both her and you, it’s just not worth it.

Not unless you manage to get your hands on some hard evidence of Hoffman’s involvement.

Years of dealing with a surrealist-nightmare-kaleidoscope for a brain had forced you to become patient. You could bide your time and wait carefully until an opportunity to steal some actual proof arose. Until then, you just had to keep breathing.

“Helloooo? Are you there?” Kerry’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry Ally. You know how I get. I called in sick today, but I’m alright. I promise. Nothing some rest and relaxation can’t fix,” you try to smile, but you can’t hide the exhaustion in your voice.

“Good,” she says, resolute, “I won’t ask you to come in again. Not unless something else comes to you. But I won’t believe he’s dead. Not yet.” It doesn’t take psychic abilities to know she’s talking about Eric Matthews, nor to feel the regret she carries with her, punctuating her words.

“And you shouldn’t. You know my hit rate on alive-versus-dead isn’t always the best.” Kerry hums in consideration at your words, and after you both say your goodbyes to one another, you hang up the receiver of the phone.

Once again, you’re left in the silence of your lonely apartment- save for your cat, who brushes up against your leg with a purr. He reminds you so easily that it’s not just your life on the line, here. Would Jigsaw ever try to test a cat...? Reaching down to scratch behind his ears, you try to consider your next steps carefully.

But all it does is make your head hurt. You pluck an ice pack from your freezer and lay down on your sofa, holding it to your head with a soft groan.

You must fall back asleep at some point, because you’re woken up from a dreamless sleep by the ringing of your phone. You check your home phone, and then, realizing it’s not the culprit, rifle through your bag for your cell.

“Hello?” You mumble into the phone as you flip it open, blinking awake.

“What, were you asleep? It’s the middle of the day,” Hoffman says.

“I called in sick. Got in pretty late last night, and I didn’t sleep the best,” You deadpan. Without being right next to him, it’s easier to keep your cool and not get flustered.

“We should talk. Let’s get dinner,” he says, “Six-o-clock. You know Eve’s Diner? On Newhaven street- with the neon sign?”

Your stomach drops. It didn’t seem like he was just asking you out politely. When was the last time you got dinner with a man, anyway? His tone is so casual that it makes you want to squirm.

“Yeah, I know the place. It's pretty close by, right?” At least in public, he wouldn’t be able to do anything overtly threatening to you. It didn’t seem like there was any use in arguing with him, or telling him you weren’t feeling up to it. He knows your address, and he apparently knows Jigsaw. That's enough to secure your compliance.

“Good. I’ll see you there, then.” And he hangs up the phone.

Your head throbs, but it’s lessened in severity since the morning. You consider taking another batch of painkillers, but decide against it. If you’re meeting Hoffman for dinner, it might be better to stay sharp.

—

The sight of Mark Hoffman, sitting in a diner booth, would be almost comical if it wasn’t so nerve-wracking. He’s stirring some sugar into his coffee, hunched against the wall, his hair smoothed back neatly and his police badge hanging around his neck. He looks tired, you think, but otherwise like a normal, upstanding member of society- if not one slightly too large and too dour for the diner table he’s seated at.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him.

He nods toward you in recognition, before leaning back in the seat. Mark looks at you, up and down, in silent surveyance. You stare back, studying him in return. Both of you size each other up, like the other is the dangerous one.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” He says, “And after some more thought, I’m not convinced. For all I know, maybe you’re workin’ with John Kramer. That seems more likely than you being psychic.”

Ah. You’ve gotten this reaction before. When someone, with time and consideration, doubles back to doubt your abilities. You couldn’t exactly blame him for that. Particularly for skeptics, it’s a hard pill to swallow that you have access to senses that they don’t.

Being accused of being a serial killer was new territory, however.

“I’m not working with Jigsaw,” you sputter, keeping your voice quiet. The diner isn’t too busy, and you’re seated in a corner away from other patrons, but it’s still public enough that you want to be careful. “Shouldn’t you know I’m not?”

He squints at you, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying or not.

“You tell me. You said there were four. Jigsaw, Amanda, myself- according to you- and so who’s the fourth? If it’s not you.” He sounds impatient. You blink at him, trying to process where he’s coming from. And then, it hits you. He doesn’t know.

For a second, you consider trying to play it off like you are the fourth apprentice. Maybe then, he’d trust you more directly with information that you could use against him. But then, you re-evaluate. Lying to a mass murderer was probably a bad idea. Lying to a cop was arguably worse.

“Well, it’s not me. But yeah, there’s at leastfour involved that I picked up on. Four main...signatures,” You pause, before continuing. “So that’s why you want me to tell you about what I sense. Even you don’t know what he’s planning, or everyone who’s involved.”

“I’ve been on this case since the beginning. Of course I wanna know. Especially since you’re out here accusing me,” He remarks, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing, “Kerry didn’t act any different toward me this morning. Good. Keeping your theories to yourself was smart.”

“Yes, lest you start actually convincing me you’re not Jigsaw, let me not forget how you threatened me last night,” You mumble, crossing your arms in front of your chest protectively.

“You pouting about it?” He asks, teasing, a smirk just barely edging onto his face, “C’mon. Show me your trick. How do you do it?” He beckons you closer, and you find yourself leaning in across the table. Like you’re sharing a secret with him.

“It’s not like I’m getting visions of the future, per se,” You try to explain, “It’s more like... hyper intuition. I get emotions, mostly. It’s an extreme version of empathy. Sometimes I get flashes of imagery from the past, present, and future, but it’s usually mixed up so I can’t tell which is which. Mainly, I just trust my gut. Which isn’t often wrong- but my interpretation of what I’m seeing can be off. Has been.”

“Hyper-intuition, huh?” He says, mulling it over, “Tell me something else about me, then. Prove it.”

You swallow uncomfortably. “I uh, need to be touching you.”

Mark raises his eyebrows at you. Before he can say anything mocking, the waitress comes by, filling both of your coffee cups. She takes your orders quickly, as though picking up on the vibe that you both want to be left alone. When she leaves, Mark spreads his hands in a gesture as if to say, do your thing, then.

Gently, you reach out and take his hands in yours. Rough, calloused, and strong. You try not to think about it as you close your eyes, and allow the gate to open for the second time in two days.

The chattering in the diner fades away into the background as your intuition takes hold, clouding out your other five senses like the moon passing over the sun in a total eclipse. First, there’s just darkness. Even the sensation of Mark’s skin against yours fading to a dull buzz. Then, sensations begin to spawn, bubbling up from somewhere else.

From the man seated across from you, you think.

“Strawberries,” you murmur, the taste of fresh, wild berries being the first thing that comes to you, sweet and tart, “I think they were picked wild, by mindful fingers. Yours are older, but never as gentle. Her small hands were always more careful than yours, never crushing the berries like you did.”

It’s a kind, well-loved memory -you assume- the impression coming in easy and unambiguous. The next is more muddled.

“Ah- pain. There’s noise, it’s discordant and loud,” You wince, squeezing Mark’s hands. You tilt your head, trying to make out the source, but all you get is scraps of yelling, fighting, shivering hands, the smell of rain.

It melts then, into that feeling again. The deep, unending well of misery. Loss, in its purest form. Utter loneliness, vast like an unending ocean.

“It’s like the sun went out,” you whisper, voice cracking. Your heart is breaking. The depth of your pain is nearly unbearable, and it makes you want to pull back and disconnect. “It’s like all the light’s been snuffed from this world. Alone.”

“Yeah,” Mark’s voice confirms, calm, quiet and sombre, “You know why that is, don’t you?”

You frown, hands trembling. The smell of blood rises, pungent and sickening. Blood, blood, so much blood. It smells so strong that you can taste it. Then something else- formaldehyde. The words leave your mouth before you can register what they mean.

“He took her from me,” You murmur hoarsely, a pure conduit for the feeling. Dimly, you’re aware of hands squeezing yours back, too tight.

Then, the rage. The despair. An energy trapped, like a feral animal in an enclosure. Desperate to make things right again, to make the world right, with no way to do it that makes sense.

Trapped, trapped, trapped. Starving. Alone again.

You’re lost in the feeling before Mark’s voice pulls you back.

“He deserved what he got,” he says, and you’re redirected. The sun is still gone, the world is still cold. Justice is a fleeting concept, a principle that isn’t achieved until you make it happen.

The world is so cold without the sun, but he died screaming for taking her. That’s justice enough.

And then, a finality- a sense of purpose.

"They all deserve it," you say.

You open your eyes, and let go of his hands. Hoffman’s expression is hard to read as you settle back in the booth. The despair still lingers over you, like a chill that’s seeped into your bones.

“That your thought, or mine?” He asks finally. “You must have felt a lot of it over the years. Other people’s pain.”

“Sure,” you reply, “Everyone’s got it. Life isn’t fair.”

“Not unless you make it fair,” Mark counters, “You can’t tell me he didn’t deserve to die like that for what he did.”

“Can you just tell me?” You ask quietly, “So I can get the full picture, no missing pieces of the puzzle. The loss...was your sister? He killed her?”

Mark thinks about it for a second. He looks like he’s going to refuse you, not responding for so long that you wonder if he’s deliberately ignoring you.

Your food arrives before he answers, the waitress bringing your plates and setting them down in front of you both. Mark's ordered a cheeseburger and fries, the all-American classic diner food; you a club sandwich, though your appetite has evaporated since you've arrived here. And after yesterday, it was barely present to begin with.

Then finally, after you both have started to eat, he speaks.

“My sister’s ex-boyfriend murdered her. Seth Baxter. A sick, abusive fuck. He was convicted, got life in jail. Took a couple of years, but he finally went away for it. Well, he filed an appeal. His new lawyer said that the jury was tainted by the evidence of his history of domestic assaults on women, that the evidence was improperly admitted and ‘prejudicial’ to his case. After five years, the case was successfully appealed... and he went free,” A feeling of disgust and rage twists in you, and you can’t tell whether it’s Hoffman’s or yours.

“So you...”

“Jigsaw killed him,” Mark answers, “Cut him in half. He was already dating someone new when he was picked up. Tell me that's not fair.”

The words hang in the air, and you take them in. You’re starting to learn to read Mark’s face better, you think, because you can detect just a hint of smugness in his expression. You try to determine how you feel about this, but your feelings are still all tangled up in Hoffman’s. Extricating them is difficult.

“So he deserved it,” You say finally, “Jigsaw’s not just a vigilante. He kidnaps people who are- who are addicted to drugs, or who only hurt themselves, and he makes them play in these sick games. It's not right,” You can’t believe you’re arguing the philosophy of Jigsaw with one of the murderers himself. It seems unbelievable.

Mark actually rolls his eyes at you.

“It’s either people who deserve it, or people who don’t deserve their lives to begin with,” He murmurs, “think about it.”

Then you remember the feeling you’d gotten before, at the police station. The deep, dark depths of satisfaction. A kind of beast in the heart, ugly and hungry and grinning. The thought that you might have inadvertently given it some purchase in your own mind freaks you the hell out.

“Easy for you to say,” you whisper, the fear keeping your voice barely audible, “You like watching people hurt.”

Mark doesn’t deny it- maybe he sees no use in doing so, when you already know better. He looks at you coldly, calculating.

“Does it matter?” He says, “Keep your word, and you won’t be on the receiving end.”

You take a sip of your water nervously, looking around the diner. Though still not exceptionally busy, you’ve both nearly finished your food (well, Mark has, you've picked away at yours), and more people are trickling in the door. If you continue to talk here, it may become more difficult to avoid being overheard.

Wouldn’t that be a good thing, for you?

“Let’s finish up,” Mark says, as though he’s been reading your mind, “We can meet up again later. I'm going to ask you more about this mystery fourth person. So keep your eyes open," he pauses, and huffs. "Or closed, I guess."

"And Kerry will be fine?" You ask, insistently, "She's a good person, Hoffman."

"Is she?" He challenges, "she wasn't exactly discreet with Matthews. And she knew he was dirty. As far as I can tell, you're her only friend."

"Oh, and you didn't know?" You snap back, defensive, "If she deserves to be tested, we all do."

Mark stands, putting on his coat. "Yeah. Or most, at least." He replies in agreement.

"Come on," he adds, his hand on the small of your back again. You can't tell if it's meant to be possessive, threatening, or whether he's done it without even thinking about it. Perhaps surprisingly, it doesn't feel as uncomfortable this time around. "I'll walk you home. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

A worm has been planted in your mind, and it feeds.

Over the next week, you feel more torn than you think you've ever felt in your life. Mark Hoffman's words bore into your mind, repeating over and over, with the echos of his pain piercing through you in random intervals. You flit between feeling angry at the situation you're in, and wanting to go to Kerry and lay it all out on the table, to a strange feeling of camaraderie with Mark Hoffman.

It's a downside you've always had to reading someone, and inviting them in- you feel connected with them, permanently. Once you see through their eyes, and feel what they feel, it's hard for you to just pull away again. A piece of them remains.

It was like you were being tested yourself. By connecting with the worst possible person, you were pushing yourself- how strained could the connection be, how adverse to your own interest, while you still feel like you're on the same side?

You lie awake at night, replaying your conversation with Mark in your mind. Thinking of all the hurt you'd ever felt, yours and everyone's, echoing forever.

Needless to say- you weren't doing great. And the fact that you weren't sleeping well didn't help.

Dreams came frequently after that shared dinner with Mark Hoffman. You dreamt alternately of horrible panic, the feeling of being trapped, and physical pain that makes you wake up sobbing. So many images form in your mind that it's hard to keep track- scalpels, keys, case files, teeth, distorted statues, the smell of antiseptic.

You text it all to Mark as it comes to you. Anyone looking at your text log would think you were both insane.

But still, you tell him your dreams, and he listens. You theorize about the fourth person together, like you're trying to solve the case. You trade tidbits, make suggestions, and rule out others.

You kind of... like texting him.

---

[2:33AM - Outgoing] Just woke up with the image of a blonde woman in my head. I don't know who she is.

[2:37AM - Incoming] could be jill tuck. ex-wife.

[2:39AM - Incoming] Photo Message

[2:42AM - Outgoing] Nope, sorry. Not her.

[2:45AM - Incoming] i thought maybe she was the 4th

[2:47AM - Outgoing] Blonde woman didn't feel like the 4th. Looked like a scientist of some kind? Idk. Wearing a white lab coat.

[2:49AM - Outgoing] I also got a red room with a bunch of pictures. Like Polaroids maybe? Hung up I think. Not sure if it was connected to the blonde woman.

[2:50AM - Incoming] that ones a red herring. already happened

[2:52AM - Outgoing] Ugh

[2:56AM - Outgoing] How long is this going to last?

[2:57AM - Incoming] what

[2:59AM - Outgoing] You keeping me as your pet psychic

[3:00AM - Incoming] you think i'm planning to stop?

[3:01AM - Incoming] you'd better get used to me.

[3:02AM - Incoming] remember. delete these.

[3:04AM - Outgoing] Yeah, yeah. Do you ever sleep?

[3:05AM - Incoming] when i'm not being woken up by txts

[3:08AM - Incoming] lets meet this weekend

[3:08AM - Incoming] I want to show you something

(author's note: the true dynamic is emerging! and yes, I had to go on a little sidebar on how seth baxter's sentence could have actually been reversed. i'm a prosecutor, I can't help myself.)

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @thebrideofcaliban

NEXT CHAPTER

#mark hoffman #slasher fic #saw franchise #slasher x reader #saw movies #sawposting #costas mandylor #detective hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman x oc #my writing #sorry again for the repost

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equalv · 1 year

Text

German tv shows with lgbt* characters

I think it can be quite hard to find queer german tv shows, so I thought I‘d compile a list with the ones that I have watched so far.

✪ = queerness is centered in this show

A-Z

1899 (2022) (mlm) | Netflix | international

Ángel (Miguel Bernardeau)

Ramiro (José Pimentão)

Krester (Lucas Lynggaard Tønnesen)

All you need (2021-) (mlm) | ZDF | ✪

Vince (Benito Bause)

Robbie (Frédéric Brossier)

Levo (Arash Marandi)

Tom (Mads Hjulmand)

Andreas (Tom Keune)

Barbaren (2020-) (mlm) | Netflix

Marbod (Murathan Muslu)

Flavus (Daniel Donsky)

Beat (2018) (mlm) | Prime Video

Beat (Jannis Niewöhner)

Becoming Charlie (2022-) (trans, mlm, wlw) | ZDF | ✪

Charlie (Lea Drinde)

Ronja (Sira-Anna Faal)

Mirko (Antonije Stankovic)

Blutige Anfänger (2020-) (mlm) | ZDF, YT

Michael Kelting (Werner Daehn)

Dr. Claas Steinebach (Martin Bretschneider)

Bruno Pérez (Martin Peñaloza Cecconi)

Phillip Schneider (Eric Cordes)

Charité (2017-) (wlw, mlm) | Netflix

Schwester Therese (Klara Deutschmann)

Otto Marquardt (Jannik Schümann)

Martin Schelling (Jacob Matschenz)

Dark (2017-2020) (wlw, mlm, trans) | Netflix

Peter Doppler (Stephan Kampwirth)

Bennie Wöller (Anton Rubtsov)

Doris Tiedemann (Tamar Pelzig/Luise Heyer)

Agnes Nielsen (Helena Pieske/Antje Trauer)

Deutschland 83/86/89 (2015-2020) (wlw, mlm) | Prime Video

Alex Edel (Ludwig Trepte)

Prof. Tobias Tischbier (Alexander Beyer)

Lenora Rauch (Maria Schrader)

Rose Seithathi (Florence Kasumba)

Dogs of Berlin (2018) (mlm) | Netflix

Erol Birkan (Fahri Yardim)

Guido Mack (Sebastian Achilles)

Dr. Klein (2014-2019) (mlm) | Netflix

Patrick Keller (Leander Lichti)

Kaan Gül (Karim Günes)

DRUCK (2018-) (wlw, mlm, trans) | YT | ✪

Fatou Jallow (Sira-Anna Faal)

Matteo Florenzi (Michelangelo Fortuzzi)

Zoe Machwitz (Madeleine Wagenitz)

Kieu My Vu (Nhung Hong)

Isi Inci (Eren M. Güvercin)

David Schreibner (Lukas von Horbatschewsky)

Yara Aimsakul (Elena Plyphalin Siepe)

Hans Brecht (Florian Appelius)

Eldorado KaDeWe – Jetzt ist unsere Zeit (2021-) (wlw) | ARD

Heidi Kron (Valerie Stoll)

Fritzi Jandorf (Lia von Blarer)

How to Sell Drugs Online (Fast) (2019-) (wlw) | Netflix

Fritzi (Leonie Wesselow)

Gerda (Luna Baptiste Schaller)

Kitz (2021) (mlm) | Netflix

Kosh Ziervogel (Zoran Pingel)

Hans Gassner (Ben Felipe)

Ku‘damm 56/59/63 (2016-2021) (mlm) | ZDF

Wolfgang von Boost (August Wittgenstein)

Hans Liebknecht (Andreas Pietschmann)

Der Kroatien Krimi/Split Homicide (2016-) (wlw) | ARD

Stascha Novak (Jasmin Gerat)

Loving Her (2021) (wlw) | ZDF | ✪

Hanna (Banafshe Hourmazdi)

Holly (Bineta Hansen)

Franzi (Lena Klenke)

Lara (Emma Drogunova)

Josephine (Karin Hanczewski)

Anouk (Larissa Sirah Herden)

Sarah (Soma Pysall)

Mord mit Aussicht (2018-2022) (wlw) | Netflix

Bärbel Schmied (Meike Droste)

Neumatt (2021-) (mlm) - Switzerland | Netflix

Michi Wyss (Julian Koechlin)

Joel Bachmann (Benito Bause)

Polizeiruf 110 (1971-) (queer/gnc) | ARD

Frankfurt/Świecko

Vincent Ross (Andre Kaczmarczyk)

SOKO Leipzig (2001-) (mlm) | ZDF

Moritz Brenner ( Johannes Hendrik Langer )

Tatort (1970-) (mlm, wlw) | ARD

Berlin

Robert Karow (Mark Waschke)

Hamburg

Julia Grosz (Franziska Weisz)

Saarbrücken

Esther Baumann (Brigitte Urhausen)

Wien

Meret Schande (Christina Scherrer)

Vorstadtweiber (2015-) (mlm) – Austria

Georg Schneider (Jürgen Maurer)

Joachim Schnitzler (Phillip Hochmair)

WIR (2021-) (wlw) | ZDF

Annika Baer (Eva Maria Jost)

Helena Kwiatkowski (Katharina Nesytowa)

Wendland (2023-) (wlw) | ZDF

Kira Engelmann (Paula Kalenberg)

Birthe (?)

Queer Eye Germany (2022) (mlm, nblm, trans) | Netflix

Avi Jakobs

Leni Bolt

Ayan Yuruk

Jan-Henrik Scheper-Stutke

Aljosha Muttardi

Notes: I may have forgotten to add some characters, because for most of the shows it has been some time since I last watched them. Please let me know if you want me to add a character or even show:)

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mingtinys · 2 months

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back in the game

pairing : kim younghoon x gn!reader

maverick!au , angst , hurt / comfort

warnings : mentions of fire , blood , and death

word count : 0.7 k

requested ? no

a/n : maverick and tbz lore has always been so interesting to me, SO expect plenty of lore-based boyz fics

Younghoon still dreams on the brink of suffocation. With smoke twirling in the orange glow of his world burning around him. Infiltrating the makeshift inferno trapping him and filling his lungs.

Every night, for nearly two months, the memory plagues his sleep. Forced to relive every excruciating second down to the very last detail.

It always starts the same, with you lying slumped in his arms. Short, sputtering, gasps escaping your red-tinged lips as he cradles you against his chest. His left hand is warm, coated in dark red as it desperately clamps down on the gaping wound in your abdomen. But no amount of pressure can stop your blood from pooling on the dirty cement below. At this point, it's a race to see what kills you first. The rebar through your stomach or the fire spreading through the compound.

The collapsed steel around him moans as it bows from the heat. The sound akin to the weathered wood of an old house bearing its final storm. Ash flurries around like snow from above. Each flake hissing as they singe his clammy skin.

"Please!" He cries, between fits of coughs. His throat too parched for his vocal cords to produce anything but a hoarse whimper. "Someone! We're down here, please..."

But in his dreams, Eric doesn't find him. Doesn't hear his tattered screams through the rubble. Doesn't tear through the remains, piece by piece, scorching his hands on the hot metal in the process. Sangyeon doesn't pull him from his prison and rush you to Jacob for treatment just in the nick of time.

In his dreams, you go limp, and Younghoon spends his final minutes on earth alone. Left to choke on the stench of iron and smoke. Those eight neon letters burned into his brain.

MAVERICK.

A sick, twisted, game.

It's not fair.

How could any of what happened ever be justified in their eyes? The inhumanity. All that training just to treat them as expendable tools. Like–

"Younghoon," you call softly. Like anything louder would shatter what's left of him. "Younghoon, love, it's too cold to be out here at this hour."

Younghoon can't remember how long it's been since he awoke from his personal hell. All he can recall after waking were the four walls closing in on him. The sweat drenched his back and hairline. Dread flooding his veins, mind, and lungs. Panic lighting every neuron ablaze until it propelled him into the crisp night.

He thought he could escape it out here. But his chair creaks against the wooden porch as he rocks. Creaks like steel beams. The stars litter the sky like ash. The rain pipe drips and pools like your blood–

"Hey," gentle fingers tilt his chin up to your worried gaze. "You're not there." It's times like tonight, when you tether Younghoon to his reality, that he finally feels safe enough to let his emotions catch up to him.

"Was it the same nightmare?" You ask even though you already know.

His answer comes in the form of teary eyes and an outstretched hand that tugs at the hem of your shirt. A silent plea for comfort. Certainty. Confirmation you won't slip away when his eyes shut. Shaky fingers dip under the soft fabric and ghost the scarred skin beneath. You shudder, no doubt with your own memories of that night. One's you've refused to speak of since. Younghoon doesn't know just how much of it you remember, just that the nightmares find you at this hour as well.

Strained sobs break the silence of the night. You cradle his head against your stomach to muffle them. Delicate fingers comb through his hair in an attempt to soothe, though they do little to quell his tears. Younghoon clutches at any part of you he can grasp. Refusing to let death rip you from his arms once more.

"I can't..." He gasps, "–I can't breathe."

You assure him he can. "Just follow me, okay? In–" you trail a finger up his spine "– then out," and back down. You breathe with him, letting your finger be the metronome to guide him. A few more and the tension in his muscles melts away into exhaustion.

Finally, Younghoon feels the smoke clear from his lungs.

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chezzabellesworld · 2 days

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Some my fave Scorpio moon singers artist s

The Weeknd

of my favourites will moon artist Scorpio moon is the weekend he’s able to do that Lana Del Rey thing where you really feel the depth of everything in a man perspective. I may not like what he gets personally but such a deep cord,,,, he may Aquarius son and a cancer rising if he’s cancer rising his wall by his will be which makes you sound so relatable and unexpected of everything and most people can feel the deep connection with his music

Miley Cyrus

Another great Scorpio moon artist he’s an amazing voice as well not just the deep perspective performing and making it feel very connection and all of them as I keep saying it’s deep it really is the voices of wildly and that would be the tourist placements which I think is rising which then becomes a physical appearance in between in the lungs. You have long if you have strong tourist advise these placements makes a good singer for the school, inside a deep aspect of life of many forms . Dolly Parton Billy Idol and poison I think as well well I know her mother had something with him meaning Brett Michael.

George Harrison

George Harrison will always hold my heart is my favourite beetle everything that he say was the best of me the way he say it with motion and just his voice in general he’s got a lot of like religious believes as well and he’s also applied to they’ve got that very deep connection with Neptune and Pluto he was in a band with Paul and John me he is the one that stands at the Mo and his voice is something else for me, he had a life with and Eric Clapton fell in love with his wife. Just to dance with you as my favourite Beatles song.

Accused of being a witch Beyoncé is very Scorpio mean to me

You can say she’s racist tonic and that because they think she was groomed Virgo by Jay-Z because she was very young when she got with him, He has amazing talent and the Virgo cider in that dedication to work kind of like Michael Jackson but this will give me intense dramatic field for example lemonade that intense feeling of anger towards Jay when he cheated there is no doubt that she is the most popular female in the world. She has a enigmatic power and she just makes people come to her and she has been accused of being a witch, which makes perfect sense but I feel like Beyoncé been very young when she was still in Destiny’s Child and she was very Christian but then I think it’s since meeting Jay-Z and joining the proper industry.

Alex Turner and the Arctic Monkeys

His voice to me, he’s like a male Lana Del Rey to some degree, especially with his album why do you only call me and you’re high and I want to be yours all that period?, Nothing like when the Sun goes down and I bet that you look good on the floor good. His voice is perfect and he gives when his own version of ultraviolence he gave off a very 1950s Elvis look with his Paul guitar as well.. I love being a Scorpio moon when I see the other creatives

Bob Marley

As a Aquarius sun , he definitely brings the vibe of the collective and the whole and brings his music brings people together the reggae the sunshine the music the summer specially with the scorpion moon being in the that represents, he believes in a power beyond himself with his Rastafarianism , a lot of Scorpio moon or 12 house placements as well have the power to be religious to a great extent him being ruled by Jupiter as well would make that make sense being a Sagittarius rising.

#astro observations #astro placements #astro community #astrology observations #astrology #astro notes #astroblr #fypage #pluto in scorpio #scorpio moon #moon sign #alex turner #beyonce #miley cyrus #george harrison #eric clapton #bob marley

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loveiis · 2 months

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a bittersweet getaway || chris sturniolo

chris sturniolo x reader

PART ONE OUT OF 6

SUMMARY: as seniors in high school, you and chris are sworn enemies. but graduating is still a big thing, so matt and nick want to invite you to going to hawaii with them for the summer. chris doesn’t seem too happy…

WARNINGS: swearing, suggestive thoughts/dialogue, fluffy, not proofread

A/N: hi so this is actually my first time starting a series so pls pls plsss don’t get mad if im not super active!! school is stressy!!!! love u pls enjoy <3 (also i will be putting lady killers II every time i make a chapter cuz i love that song so.)

2,598 words, 13,383 characters.

DAY 0: pilot

TODAY was the biggest day of my life. yet i still felt somehow empty. not in an emo way. just because graduating didn’t really do anything for me. all i thought about was what i was going to do after all of this was over, not focusing on the fact that i graduated.

i walked down the steps of the front doors, my gown and tassel flowing a bit from the wind. i mindlessly scrolled through tiktok with both airpods in my ears, with noise cancellation on. i hear mumbling near me, thinking it was just some girls blabbering about their dream job or something. i kept walking, feeling a tap on my shoulder. i took out both airpods and looked in the direction of the tapping. “girl did you hear me?” my best friend, nick said. “sorry, no. what’s up?” i replied, staring at him. nick sighed dramatically and continued.

“me and my brothers are going to hawaii for a vacation. i wanted to extend an invite.” nick explained. i paused for a moment, almost immediately saying yes. “chris is going?” i raised my eyebrow. “yea?? you like him or something?” nick gave me a weird look. i was taken aback, knowing damn well it was the complete opposite. “no! hell no. never. i hate him, thats why i asked.” i rolled my eyes at him. “well, he’s coming. you either show up or you shut up, hun.” nick smiled at me with a mean girls type of look before walking away.

goddamn that attitude.

i stood there, watching nick enter his car as i thought of what my answer would be. i cant possibly not want to go just because of a boy right? thats pathetic. i have to go. plus, i have nothing to do or anything planned for the summer. or the summer after that. i placed my airpods in my case and started walking towards my car.

opening my door, i get in the car and close it behind me. sitting in the drivers seat, i take off my cap and throw it into my backseats. i adjusted my sitting position and started the car, plugging my phone into the aux cord. i played “spare time” by eric bellinger.

rolling down the window, i pulled out of my parking spot and drove straight to my house. the cool wind blowing in my hair, my tie bracelets looking pretty in the sunlight from my windshield. my nice moment of peace being interrupted by a phone call from chris. god, what could he possibly want right now? i answer the call, my music turning off automatically.

“can you come here.” he says over the phone. “well hello to you too chris! im doing great thanks.” i respond sarcastically, feeling weird about the fact he just demanded something, not asked. “bro. does it sound like im playing? come here.” he hung up the phone. okaaay, what the fuck?? so now chris wants to see me and for what? no fucking idea. i put my blinker on and turn towards the triplet’s house.

i knock on the door, anticipating a response. instead of chris, nick opens the door. “have you finally come to make a decision?” nick crosses his arms. “no, i came here for chris.” i say, walking past him not realizing how it sounded. “knew you liked him!” nick called to me, closing the door. i shook my head violently at him and barged into chris’ room.

“jesus christ! do you knock?” chris jumped at the sound of his door slamming against the wall. “no. what do you want?” i crossed my arms, leaning against his wall. he sighed. “don’t come to hawaii with us. please. i dont want to deal with you.” he said. “so this wasnt something you could tell me on the phone??” i almost yelled. “i wanted to see your face when i said it.” he smirked. i opened my mouth, about to say something, but closed it again only realizing it would make him happy to see me upset. you smiled sarcastically and walked away from him. “does that mean you’re not going?” he yelled, hearing his laughter. i walked out the front door and got in my car.

you know what? i am gonna go. just to make him mad. and i wont even tell him. i pulled out of the driveway and drove to my house. i decided to call nick to tell him. “hello? didn’t i just see you?” nick said. “yeah, i wanna tell you that im going.” i responded. “good because i already bought you a ticket about 3 weeks ago. we leave tomorrow, 6am. you sit up front i’ll be in the back with chris. be ready!” nick hung up the phone. of course nick already bought me a ticket. he knew id go anyways. i let out a sigh as i turned my music back on and rolled my window down again, enjoying my peace.

i locked my car, going up the steps to my front door, unlocking it. i opened the door and closed it behind me, taking off my shoes and my gown, hanging the gown up in the hallway closet. i sighed, plopping down on the couch. i laid my head on the couch arm while i kicked up my feet to relax. i opened my phone to 12 missed messages from chris.

“are you not going?”

“bro answer”

“pls tell me ur not going”

“BRO”

“NICK JUST TOLD ME YOURE GOING”

“FUCK YOU”

“I LITERALLY TOLD YOU NOT TO.”

“YOU DONT FUCKING LISTEN”

“ANSWER THE PHONEEEE”

“WHY IS NICK SO HAPPY?”

“IM ACTUALLY GOING TO KILL YOU”

“i fucking hate you.”

i laughed, looking at his stupid texts. i actually got a reaction out of him. this trip is definitely going to be fun. i put down my phone, laying on my side.

my eyes start to get drowsy, my brain becoming blank. i let my eyes shut, and fell into a deep sleep.

i woke up, the blanket that used to be on top of the couch now on top of me. my tank top strap was off of one arm and my one sock was lost in the couch somewhere. what the fuck? what time is it? i removed the blanket, sitting up and looking at my dark living room. i yawned, picking up my phone.

the brightness of my phone blinded me as i stared at the big numbers that read;

3:12

well shit. i only had 2 hours and 48 minutes to be packed and ready for the triplets to pick me up. i immediately got up to take a shower, brush my teeth and wash my face. i got dressed in a ribbed longsleeve crop top and ripped shorts. i had about a little over an hour to pack. i packed quickly making sure i had everything. but i didn’t even know how long we were staying. i called up nick. “hello?” nicks raspy voice rang over the phone.

“how many days are we even staying?” i yawned again. “like 5 days. matt please give me your suitcase jesus christ.” i hear nick getting mad at matt for something over the phone. “okay, well thanks. see you soon then.” i say. “okay, bye.” nick hangs up the phone. so i removed the 7th outfit and let there be 6 just in case of an emergency. i zipped up my suitcase and made my way to the kitchen to have some cereal. i scrolled through tiktok while eating, taking my time since ive pretty much been rushing even though i was making good time. after about 30 minutes, i heard a honk in front of my house. i got up quickly and placed my bowl and spoon in the sink, grabbing my suitcase and adjusting my jewelry.

i walked out the door, locking my door behind me. matt got out of the car, looking tired as hell. he opened the trunk. i walked towards him, smiling a bit. “you seem tired.” i let out a breathy laugh sarcastically. “do i now?” he said sarcastically and smiled at me. “hand me your suitcase, i got it.” he reached his hand out for the handle of my suitcase. i felt bad. he was so tired. “no it’s fine, i got it. you’re tired.” i shook my head. “please. nicks going to kill me if i dont.” he rubs his right eye. i looked down, handing him my suitcase. why would nick kill him? i gave him a thank you before getting in the backseat, because apparently nick was sitting in the front. i realized i was going to have to sit next to chris.

“nick, weren’t you going to sit back here?” i tilt my head. nick turns back to look at me. “yeah, but this kid was being stupid so i decided to sit up here. sorry.” he replied, sternly. i looked at chris, his hair flopping forwards as he stares at his phone with his airpods in. i look away when i see matt get in the drivers seat. “okay. next stop, the airport.” matt said as he shifted into reverse. he put his arm around the back of nicks seat and looked out the rear window as he backed out, i stared at his features. matt stared at me then. “something wrong?” he sat back in his seat, twirling the steering wheel. “no im okay.” i snap back to reality, shaking my head vigorously.

i put in my airpods as matt drove away from my home, listening to my favorite playlist.

(time skip)

we made it to the airport, everyone stretching when they got out the car. i put my airpods back into the case, shutting the car door. matt took out everyone’s suitcase and handed it to them. “thanks again matt.” i said again. “you dont gotta thank me, thank nick. he said he wants you to have a great experience.” he laughed a bit, grabbing his own suitcase. he closed the trunk and started walking with chris and nick. i followed after.

security was so shit. it took forever for them to get the line of people done and chris was seriously losing his patience like a little baby. “finally that shitshow is over.” chris rolled his eyes. “get over it chris it happens. you act like you’ve never been in a fucking airport before.” i snapped back. “when do you ever shut the fuck up?” he almost started to yell. “okay children calm the fuck down. lets go before we miss the flight.” nick interfered. i calmed down but i saw chris roll his eyes again. we continued walking until we reached our gate. we made it to boarding right on time so we got in the line and showed the lady each of our tickets.

only little did i know, i had to sit next to chris while nick and matt sat in the next isle. i called window seat obviously. i put in my airpods again and looked out the window, listening to music, trying to ignore the fact that i had to sit next to chris fucking sturniolo.

maybe about 3 hours into the flight, i fell asleep, my head against the window of the plane. chris woke me up, because the flight attendant was offering snacks. my mind blank, i asked for pretzels and a cup of apple juice. “you’re such a kid. apple juice? didn’t you graduate yesterday?” chris ate out of his tiny bag of snack mix while smiling. “chris, please. shut the fuck up. for once in your life.” i was tired and he just pissed me off even more. i had to pee anyways, maybe i’d get a break from him. “i have to pee, get up.” i say. “no. just go.” he shook his head. i sighed. “fine.” i get up from my seat, squeezing my way past him, my back facing him. when i get out the tight situation i make headway for the bathroom.

i come out the bathroom, feeling better, making my way towards the seat. only to find chris gone and my snacks sitting on my tray. “where’s chris?” i asked matt, not sure why i was concerned. “he went to the other bathroom the other way.” matt pointed his thumb backwards. i didn’t even know there was another bathroom here. i sat back in my seat, putting the airpods that were still in my ears back in their case and started eating the snacks. chris came back about 2 minutes later, breathing heavy like he ran a marathon.

“are you okay?” i look at him with a weird face. “yep. why?” he responded lowly. “because you sound like you just ran a marathon.” i looked into his eyes, trying to find what he was hiding. “idk. im fine.” he said dryly, putting his airpods in. oookaay. i put my head back on the seat and closed my eyes once again.

“god, jesus get off of me!” i woke up to chris pushing my head. i lifted it. “whats wrong?” i said quietly and drowsily, rubbing my eye. “your head was on my shoulder. and its time to go.” he said, grabbing his suitcase from the top storage. “sorry.” i said, my mind still hazy, i didn’t really realize i said sorry to chris. i never say sorry to him. chris sighed and took out my suitcase too. something i never thought he’d do. it doesn’t matter. i stretched and got up out of the seat. me and chris followed behind matt and nick off of the plane and into the airport.

i was so hungry, they only fed us once with a snack and drink, i needed something to eat. “im hungry.” i whined. “well nobody is going to drop everything for you! go get something to eat!” nick snapped. well he must be in a bad mood from the flight or something. “what do you want?” chris chimed in. “what?” i raise my eyebrow. “to eat?” he took out his wallet. “chris i got it. don’t try to be a gentleman.” i rolled my eyes. what is up with him? wanting to pay for my food is crazy. he sighed and walked towards dunkin, wallet still in hand. how did he know i wanted dunkin?

“okay is this your doing nick?” i look at nick. “no, i swear to you i only talked to matt.” he replied quickly. matt side eyed him, upset that he yelled at him at 6 in the morning. chris comes back around a minute later, a glazed donut in a bag and a small iced tea in hand. “okay, how do you know my dunkin order?” i gave him a look. “does that really fucking matter? stop acting like a brat and take it.” he said sternly. i took the food and gave him a questioning ‘thanks?’

(time skip again sorry 😭)

we made it to the airbnb that nick and matt helped pay for, everyone sighing and placing their stuff in the rooms. i claimed my room, chris coming in behind me. “this is my room dummy.” i crossed my arms. “there’s two beds you can share fatty.” he pushed past me. no way he just called me fat. “chris go share with your brothers!” i yelled at him, watching him place his suitcase on the bed by the big window. “can’t. they each want their own bed and there’s two beds per room so, gotta share with you.” he shrugged. great. what could possibly go worse?

okaaay im ending this here only because i started this at 8pm and now its 12am. i am tired. next part tomorrow?? tbc 😝 (p.s. this was so bad im sorry 🙁)

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #hawaii #vacation #reader insert #writing #lady killer #g eazy #summer

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