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lovelyshumai-imagines · 3 years

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Stupid Reserve Course...

Read on my ao3 here :)

Hajime was new to Hopes Peak, and to his disappointment, his tour guide was a male named Nagito Komaeda. One of the dickiest people that ever stepped foot in the school. Well, to Hajime at least.

Nagito would roll his eyes or scoff whenever Hajime asked a basic question, calling him idiotic or just completely ignore him in general.

Understandably, Hajime was confused. He’s heard that Nagito was one of the most passionate when it comes to talking about his interest, that conveniently being Hopes Peak. So what happened?

The two males walked down the last hall of the school, Nagito in a bored voice stating what room was what. “A-Ah, uhm.. might I ask where the bathrooms are? We’ve walked through the entire school and I haven’t seen one bathroom..” “..Are you joking?” “No..?”

Nagito’s eye twitched in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Typical reserve course..” the taller mumbled, before roughly grabbing Hajimes wrist, dragging him to the fifth floor of the academy.

“It’s here. Now go to class,” Nagito practically snarled, leaving the other by the womans bathroom in confusion.

“Hey hey,” a soft voice called, Hajimes attention going to the source. A young looking girl looking up at him with sleepy, although curious eyes. “Don’t listen to him, okay? He’s not a fan of people who pay to come here.. I think..” she mumbled, her gaze going back to her gameboy. “..Your name is Hinata right..? Nice to meet you, I’m Chiaki Nanami. I’m the Ultimate Gamer. And that was Komaeda-kun, the Ultimate Lucky Student.”

Chiaki paused her game and looked back up at Hajime, “He’ll warm up to you, I promise. You may not be apart of this department, but you two will bump into each other in the mornings.. I’m sure he’ll grow onto you.”

Despite the odd logic the girl had, her soft voice made butterflies flutter in Hajimes stomach. Not in a romantic way, it was a feeling people get when an old person calls you sweetheart. That sort of feeling. It reassured him, despite the low chances of anything of the sort ever happening. He wantwd to be closer to the Ultimates after all.

“..Thanks Nanami-san,” he smiled, Chiaki giving him a nod as she walked off to her next class.

...

*Briiiing!*

“Dude, are you serious?!” “Bah.. I-I know! I-It was so stupid of me to do!”

Nagito buried his face into his hands, Mikan rubbing his back slowly. “D-Don’t worry Komaeda-kun.. I-I’m sure he’ll u-understand! J-Just go apologize a-and everything will be alright..!”

Komaeda leaned back in his seat, gazing at Kazuichi for reassurance, who only looked the other way. His gaze going to Fuyuhiko next, who shrugged.

“It’s useless..” Komaeda whispered. “He’s bound to hate me now.. not even non-ultimates deserve that treatment! For all I know his parents could’ve forced him here, or maybe he has a talent but doesn’t know it..!” “..That’s why you’re concerned? Just because he may have a talent?” Fuyuhiko scoffed.

“But of course!” Nagitos eyes narrowed. “I-I’m hated enough.. a potentially f-future symbol of hope.. looking down upon me..? I-It’s Hell on Earth!”

Everyone looked around at each other. No one objected to the fact everyone hated him, but Mikan continued rubbing his back.

“M-Maybe you can m-meet up with him a-after school..? T-Try to apologize..!” Mikan smiled. “Yeah! He may not accept your apology and spit on you, but- OW!” Kazuichi yelped, smacked to the head by Akane.

“..F-Fine.. I’ll try..”

...

*Bing, bong, ding, dong..*

It was after school, and everyone including Hajime was leaving. Nagito was so on edge the entire day. He needed to apologize, and apologize he needed to do. It was only a matter of time before Hajime wished death on him like everyone else!

Nagito left the department building, looking around desperately for that spiked hair he rarely knew. To no luck.

Tug tug.

The lucky student flinched, looking down at the source of the tug. It was Chiaki, who was pointing further down by the gate. Hajime, leaning againdt the schools exit gate, messaging someone on his flip-phone.

With shimmering eyes, Nagito bowed to Chiaki before running off. Normally, people wouldn’t try this hard to get someones trust. Nagito wouldn’t try this hard either, but he was already written up twice for ‘innapropriate behavior towards Reserve course students’. Plus, he felt something with Hajime. Something he yearned for. Something so rare for him to feel, that the last time he felt it was when he went on a vacation with his parents years ago.. and everyone knows how that turned out. Was it a feeling of happiness before disaster?

Then why didn’t he feel this way when he got kidnapped? Why didn’t he feel this spark of joy? Was it because he was near someone he truly loved, despite not even being told he was handsome once?

Perhaps he was desperate, lonely, clingy, attention starved. He didn’t know, he thought he was annoying more than anything, but if this feeling truly was happiness before disaster, he needed to prevent the disaster as soon as possible.

God I’m so overdramatic.. stop panicking so much Nagito.

“H-Hinata-kun!” Nagito yelled out, waving his arms around like a lunatic. Hajimes eyes widened seeing the familiar face, one that practically bullied him hours ago. “H-Haa.. haa.. t-thank god.. u-uhm..”

Komaeda straightened his posture, swallowing a knot in his throat. “..I-I wanted.. to apologize for my behavior this morning. I-It was truly uncalled for, and..”

He bowed deeply, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment,

“I-I apologize Hinata-kun!! P-Please accept my apology! I-I can call you Hinata-sama if you truly wish!!”

“.. You.. aren’t being serious.”

Nagitos eyes widened, standing upright. “O-Of course I am.. do I not seem genuine..?” “You called me idiotic and.. now this? You aren’t being told to tell me this, right?” “W-Wha..? O-Of course not! I would never agree to telling a Reserve Course this!”

Hajimes eyebrows furrowed at the mans logic. He did seem quite panicked, and who was Hajime to reject an Ultimates apology?

With a sigh, he held his hand out. “I accept your apology.” he smiled, Nagitos hand shaking his after hesitation.

“..Ahaha! T-Thank you, Hinata-sama!” “N-No need to call me that.. c-can you also let go of my hand now..?” “..Eh? Oh! My apologies..”

#danganronpa #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa fanfic #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa goodbye despair fanfiction #komahina #hinakoma #komahina fanfic #hinakoma fanfic #nagito x hajime #hajime x nagito

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cappsikle · 4 years

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you belong // fred and george weasley

Pairing: fred x platonic!reader x george

Summary: you feel hopeless and that you don’t belong, but the twins are there to lend a helping hand

Warnings: depressi hours - talks about not belonging, giving up etc. not proofread, ending is kinda trash.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: this is basically me venting about how i’ve been feeling recently.

tags: @ryeryemilani @a-little-too-much just ask if you’d like to be added!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

-------

Why did it have to be this hard? It shouldn’t be, but it is. You tried, you really did try, but no matter how much so, you still felt like you didn’t belong. You don’t belong. It's been five years, and you still didn’t have anyone to call your friend. Sure, you hung out with some groups and talked to them occasionally, but you didn’t have a tight-knit group with anyone, no bond that connected you, and no one to turn to when you needed it. Yeah, it sucks.

You hated to admit it, but you’ve spent more nights crying over this than actually smiling. You didn’t want to, god you were so sick of crying, but when it feels like the world is doesn’t like you, doesn’t want you, it’s hard to keep the tears at bay. And that’s where you found yourself on this night, sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, staring out into the fire as tears cascaded down your face.

Today had been a particularly hard day. It’s not like anything really happened to cause this, but the feeling of self-hatred was more intense than usual. There was just this heavy weight in your chest, a pressure that was holding you down, keeping you entrapped in your mind. You couldn’t escape, your thoughts chasing wherever you went. You were annoying, you weren’t good enough, no one wanted you.

The pain in your chest increased as the intensity of your thoughts. You don’t even know why you tried anymore. Why try to make friends when no one wanted you around? Why try to be friendly when all you got were the back of people’s heads?

You were losing hope. Hope for having a valuable friendship, hope for a bond so strong that nothing could come between you, hope for a life that you felt was worth living. You glanced at the clock, the hands showing it was 1 am. You sighed to yourself as a few more stray tears slid across your blotchy cheeks. You supposed you should head off to bed, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Your mind started spiraling again, spouting insults to yourself, that was until you heard two sets of feet pattering down the stairs, breaking the solitude. You faced the fire again, squeezing your eyes shut and lowering your body against the couch in a pathetic attempt hide yourself from their view.

///

Fred and George had planned to wake up in the middle of the night and brainstorm some new product ideas they would create in the future. So, as the clock struck 1 am, both sat up, grabbed the needed equipment and made their way down as quietly as possible. What they hadn’t planned, however, was the lone figure sitting on the couch, curled into themselves. They both stopped in their tracks, looking at each other before continuing to descend the stairs. Maybe if they kept quiet you both could just sit without disturbing each other.

That was, until they heard you let out something akin to a choked sob. You covered your mouth with your hand, hoping to whatever god was out there that the boys at the bottom of the steps didn’t hear it. Your prayers were left unanswered as you heard them walk closer to the couch.

George and Fred glanced at each other a second time, a look of concern and curiosity crossing their features. Had they known what you were doing down here, they wouldn’t have disturbed them. But, as their presence was known, they knew they couldn’t just leave when someone was in a state such as this.

Slowly, the twins made their way to the back of the couch, George reaching out to gently grasp your shoulder, which you practically jumped out of your skin at the contact.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,”

“It’s okay...” you brought your hand up to your chest, trying to slow down your racing heart. You hadn’t expected the strange boys to take notice of you, and you definitely didn’t expect them to come over and talk to you.

You looked behind you at the pair of redheaded twins. The one with his hand on your shoulder, that was George, and the one standing next to him was Fred. You don’t exactly know how you were able to tell the twins apart, but you just could. It was possibly due to the many years of close observation, not that you’d admit that to anyone.

Fred, the shorter of the two, spoke up next, “are you alright over here? We heard you crying."

You shrugged your shoulders at his question, why would he care? No one else did. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

George took his hand off your shoulder, much to your delight, and opted to sit next to you instead, Fred following suit on the opposite side of you. “C’mon, love. What's up?”

You wanted to say something, you really did. But you knew once you started speaking, they’d get bored or annoyed and leave. That's happened way too many times to count. Again, you shrugged your shoulders and brought your hand to rub your arm, trying to rid the internal chill spreading through your bones.

“It’s just... I’m lonely,” you took a deep breath and looked down at your lap, not wanting to see the looks on their faces. “I don’t have any friends, no family here, and I’m all alone. No one to talk to, no one to hang out with-” you don’t know why you kept practically spilling your guts to these strangers, but it felt so good to finally tell someone other than your teddy bear all the pent up feelings you’ve had for years.

George leaned back a tad to meet his eyes with Fred, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. The twins new who you were, well, they knew of you. They've always seen you around, occasionally accompanied by different groups of people, but other than that you always seemed to be alone. Had they known how you felt, they would’ve spoken to you ages ago.

After a few deep breaths, you kept talking. “I just feel like maybe there isn’t any point in trying anymore. No one cares about me, no one even looks at me. I’m just a background character in everyone’s story. I’m always chosen last.” you couldn’t help but let more tears fall from your already red and puffy eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wipe them away.

George took notice and hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulder whilst Fred placed a hand on your knee and squeezed gently. In a state like this, you wanted nothing more than to push them away, but the warmth they provided just from those simple touches alone brought a comfort you had never felt before.

They didn’t know you, yet their hearts yearned for the chance to make you feel better, feel happier. They wished they could take away this pain and make you happy. And that’s what they intended to do. George rubbed your shoulder and let you cry, looking over to his twin yet again, sharing a knowing look.

Fred spoke up first this time, bringing your attention to him, “look, we may not know that well, but we sure as hell want to!” you look at Fred with a deadpanned look and chuckled to yourself.

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“We’re not,” George cut in, “truth is, we’ve always seen you around and you genuinely look like a great person,” Fred nodded his head in confirmation “we’d love to get to know you.”

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but sooner or later something will happen that’ll leave you guys ahead and me left in the dust. That's how it’s always been.”

George shook his head as Fred spoke up, squeezing your knee gently to bring your attention towards him, “we vow to never let that happen. We vow to make all your days' worth living-”

“-to make you see that you’re important-”

“-to bring joy and laughter-”

“-and, we vow to show you that you belong here.”

You didn’t really know what to say. What could you say to something like that? You were touched, your heart beat just that little bit faster in your chest. They seemed serious, and honestly, why would they lie? You felt a small, almost invisible, smile grace your lips. You'd never had someone say any of these things to you. But you still had your doubts. You had to make sure.

“Are you sure you guys really want to do this?”

As both Fred and George looked at you, hearts reaching out, they sealed their promise with a sentence spoken in unison, “we’re sure.”

And you know what? They were right, and they did what they said they’d do. It took time, of course, a lot of it, for you to finally feel like you had a place in the world. The three of you quickly became inseparable, doing absolutely everything together. It did take you some time to warm up to them, but with their joyous laughter and constant upbeat energy, it was almost impossible not to love them, impossible to not want to be around them all the time.

However, when those bad days came, they were always there to reassure you. No matter how hopeless you felt, or how difficult it was to get out of bed, Fred and George were always there, lending their hands and hearts out to you, throwing you a rope when you needed a tug. You never really said this to them, but you truly believe they saved you. They saved you from believing life wasn’t worth it, from seeing the world as nothing but grey and dull. They brought the colour to your life.

So, yes, you did finally have people to talk to, people confide in when you needed it, and you finally created a bond with someone. You finally had those people who wouldn’t turn their backs on you, who strived to make your day full of laughter, to make your heartbeat faster. You finally felt like you belonged.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley angst #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x platonic!reader #fred weasley x platonic!reader #george weasley angst

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littlefreya · 4 years

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Bad Girls Don’t Get to Play

Summary: You’ve been a naughty girl, Private, thirsty for the Captain’s attention while he’s busy leading the base. Time for you to learn some freakin’ respect and patience.

Pairing: Captain BDE Syverson x You

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: SMUT! Masturbation, really dirty language, abuse of power, pleasure denial.

A/N: This was a request made by @hcfavoritegal I’ve been a good devil and happily obliged! Thanks once more to my amazing @agniavateira for being my editor! Happy FuckDay! Title: Bad Girls Don’t Get to Play

“Your bratty attitude has been on my last nerve,” his deep southern accent thundered behind you as the both of you walked into the stuffy little room. There was a small shove at the arch of your back, forcing you further inside before the captain shut his office door. You turned to look at him, crooking up one eyebrow, focusing on how his long fingers tinkered with the lock.

Huffing like an angry bull, he walked right past you, his large body bumping into yours with obvious intent. He moved to claim his spot on the worn-out leather sofa, body slumping down so heavily a loud thud filled your ears.

You glanced quietly at the hulking man: legs spread out widely in his seat with his groin bumped forward for display, the outlines of his large cock were prominent, undoubtedly presented like some sinful temptation.

“You’re just thirsty for some attention, aren't ya, Private?” he asked with menace on his smooth baritone and in his piercing blue gaze. That look couldn’t be mistaken for anything but hot, angry desire. It made a chill run up and down your spine, spreading throughout every nerve.

“I…”

You tried to speak, yet only one word came out, quivering on your tongue like a thin thread snapping with force. You always saw yourself as strong-willed, but this man had some power over you, and it wasn’t just the impressive size of his body against your smaller frame and his higher rank. He gave away an enigmatic force that left you burning for him. If he told you to come, you’d come on your knees.

Syverson smoothed his hands over his thighs, drawing more attention to the forbidden delight between his legs. The worst part is that you knew the undisclosed desire that hid behind those camouflage trousers, and how satisfying it was. “You think I’m okay with you touchin’ me and flingin’ that hot ass of yours, while we’re both on duty?” he paused, sucking his pouty lips in and fleshing his tongue over them briefly. “Have no one ever educated you about patience, kitten?”

You frowned at him, clenching your fists tightly until your knuckles turned white. You’ve always been a hot-blooded woman and the fact that Syverson was the gods’ gift to women didn’t help either. It was as if your body constantly yearned for his touch, making you frustrated whenever he refused to provide it.

For him, it was all about the army. He was patient, immune to your spells during those long hours of hard work. But when the sun came down and he’d finally have his break, he’d come and claim, plunging all his pent-up frustration inside you until you’re searing inside.

You wanted to either slap that smug smirk off of his face or spread your legs and sit on top of it, knowing very well how strong these arms are around your inner thighs.

“You don’t pay me any attention at all lately!” You snapped, raising your voice at him which only granted you a dangerous grimace. For a moment, you wondered if you should apologize to your captain. But before you even managed to muster a second thought, Syverson lifted his hand, fingers curling inside to gesture you to come hither.

Not saying a word, you made your way toward him, feeling numb in your legs as if the blood began to drain from them. With just a gaze and a gesture you were already following his rules and it had nothing to do with him being the captain anymore. It’s just how Syverson was. Dripping of confidence and power, he made men and women cower at his striking presence.

His hand went over his jaw, stroking his beard and looking up to meet your face while you stood waiting between his legs.

“It’s called duty, Private.The job comes first.” He spoke dangerously low, letting his eyes trail up and down the pleasing shape of your body. “You wanna keep this bratty attitude up?” he tested and shifted slightly in his seat, adjusting the growing hardness in his groin.

“Yeah, at least until you’d pay me some attention. I’m not some toy you can pick up whenever you’re bored.” Your heart pounded in your ears as you spoke, knowing very well you’re only making things worse for yourself. But once that onslaught of complaints spilled from your mouth. it was hard to stop. “You’re not the only one with needs here!”

Syverson sat listening to your whines while a wide, scornful smirk spread across his face. “Sit down over there,” he commanded, tapping the empty spot next to him. The glare he gave left you no place to even think of protesting. Submissive as you’ve never been before, you did as you were told. With trembling legs you went to sit next to Sy while looking at him with fear and anticipation.

His hands still rested on his thighs, nails slightly digging onto the fabric of his trousers. His eyes scanned you with dark lust, looking you up as if you’re a tasty treat.

“I think it’s time to teach this brat a lesson about patience.”

Not saying anything else, Syverson began undoing his belt. The sound of metal clinking sharply as the buckle unclasped did nothing but make your pussy clench with excitement. When the zipper slid down and freed his bulge, you wanted to straddle his waist immediately and take him inside of you.

A delicate wanton moan left your lips instead, showering his beautiful cock with admiration as it stood vast and solid between his coarse fingers.

“You’re gonna sit there and watch like a good girl, without moving a muscle.” he threatened, allowing his long digits to run up and down the thick shaft while emitting a small groan that made your chest sink.

“And you’re going to say exactly what I want you to say. If you break the rules, I’m going to deny your pleasure for weeks. Is that understood, kitten?”

The sight of his cock made your mouth water and your cunt throb, wallowing in your own sticky juices with harrowing desperation. Your eyes flicked along the ridges and veins that decorated his huge erection. Syverson beamed at your response, his callous thumb caressing the bulbous head, circling and smearing the pre-cum drops at the tip.

“Tell me how much you want this cock inside you Private, and be specific.”

You gaped, smitten at his demand and cruel set of rules. Sy had a nasty mouth and he would say the most profane things while fucking you. Secretly you loved it, but you were never able to bring yourself to speak back, you simply moaned or said yes to whatever it was that he said he was going to do to your body.

His hand began to make its way up and down his girth with achingly slow tugs. This entire time he was looking straight into your eyes. His defined lips parted while he feasted on the sight of you, not missing how your nipples hardened through the fabric of your shirt as your entire body prepared for a joining which was brutally denied.

“Fuck, Sy…”

The desire to touch yourself never felt this excruciating, even just to stroke and squeeze your breast or your fucking knee.

“You’re gonna keep me waiting, Private?” He teased you, a vicious smirk lighting his face.

“I want you to bury your gigantic cock deep inside my pussy,” you fulfilled his wish, nearly mewling these words came tumbling out of your mouth. In an instant, you realized they did nothing but increase your painful need to be stuffed by him.

Syverson groaned with a grin, shutting his eyes for a moment while squeezing himself. He imagined your sweet warmth tightening around his cock while he pressures himself into you.

“Yeah, you want me defiling your tight little pussy, babygirl?” he asked in his low velvety voice, now accompanied by small husky grunts while his breaths became heavier.

“Tell me, tell me how big my cock feels inside you.”

You bit your lip so painfully it hurt, your core pulsated as if furious for not being granted what it needed.

“You’re so big, Captain.” You paused, having to swallow the dryness in your throat as he continues to squirm and groan “I want you to throw me on your desk and fuck me like a slut, you’d make me sore for days.”

A pleased guttural groan escaped his mouth, you finally began following his rules and hearing how much you wanted him made his cock red and aching for release. His hand locked tightly around his cock, squeezing in a pace that grew more and more urgent.

Although he never broke eye contact, his eyes fucked you a dozen times harder than he ever did. His glare made you feel as if you were being defiled. You felt naked, wanting to be exploited by him in ways you never imagined possible.

You couldn’t help but squirm in your seat, intoxicated by the sight of this beautiful man. His scarred face was covered with a sheer layer of sweat, his blue eyes were now hazy and the very vocal groans that came out his throat had you soaked beyond imagination.

“Fuck Sy, please, I need you to fuck me so bad.” You begged, pouting desperately and clenching your thighs together to fight that lonely feeling inside you.

His free hand reached for your knee in an instant, forcing your legs apart while he shook his head with a disapproving glare. “Nah ah. Patience, babygirl, you touch yourself now I’ll make sure you won’t come for a whole month.”

The touch of his hand on your knee made you shiver and moan, increasing the raging flutter inside your core. You wanted to cry with how needy you felt. This beautiful beast had you locked in his twisted little game while he enjoyed every inch you were prohibited from having.

As if you were locked out of heaven.

“Say,” he rasped breathlessly, his control beginning to slip. “Say you want me to come inside that pussy.”

His hand stroked faster and faster, the sounds of his skin slapping reminded you of the sounds your bodies made together. And his breath, fuck, even the sound of his breath made your chest sink as if there were weights atop of it.

“Please,” you begged again out of frustration. You were just as breathless as he was, and your lungs felt empty. “Punish my pussy, Sy, bottom me out and fill me with your cum.”

You watched as his testicles became stretched and clenched upward, his cock throbbed, swelling larger while he tugged himself with fury and growled like an animal. You moaned to urge him, biting your lower lip and shifting on the sofa helplessly.

“Yes, Sy! Give it to me! I want it so bad!”

His hand landed on your knee with might, making you jump as he squeezed you hard. A loud grunt erupted from his chest and then a deep sigh of release as he breathed out with bliss. You gasped with him, watching as his thick liquids glazed over his hand.

He felt no shame, nor disgust, breathlessly staring as if what he did was liberating for both of you. Well, it wasn’t. You were flushed, breathing in fumes as you watched him climb down from ecstasy. His pupils were expended, his lips were slightly red and he licked them while smiling at you with mischief.

“Next lesson, I’ll teach you how to clean that potty mouth of yours.”

__________________________________________________________

#Henry Cavill #Captain Syverson #Captain Syverson Fanfiction #Henry Cavill Fanficition #Captain Syverson x You #Captain Syverson x Reader #Henry Cavill x Reader

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

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Read into Me Chapter 5: Romeo and Juliet

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 2,955

Warnings: Swearing, slut shaming, bullying mention

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @banjino-in-the-hole @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @alwaysstressedout @linkispink1995 @asharpkniffe @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa

After that afternoon, you spent practically every day after school with Steve, either in his bedroom or the library. It was weirdly nice. You didn’t always talk; mostly you worked in silence, Steve answering English questions or doing work for other classes and you doodling. You’d finished the sketch of Steve you’d started in his bedroom the same night you’d started it. You were actually quite proud of it; you’d managed to get the shadows on his face to make his face look hollow and strange, not beautiful like it usually appeared. And yes, you were comfortable with calling him beautiful. You found a lot of your subjects beautiful, they all fit into an easy collection of strong, attractive faces that could be found in Hawkins. Hawkins Most Beautiful: the collections of portraits labelled themselves.

Steve called you fairly often as well; usually on the days when you didn’t meet up he’d call so he’d have someone to keep him company as he worked. He seemed lonely to you. From your conversations, you learned little of his supposed friends, but you learned a fair bit about his family. Both his parents were rarely home. His father worked in the city and kept an apartment there, keeping him as far away from home as possible most of the time. His mother was home more often, but kept her hours in certain places, leaving him home alone most of the time. So it seemed, he was ignored past the age of twelve. You sympathized with that, your own parents weren’t exactly present, albeit for different reasons. He asked you a lot about Samantha, which didn’t bother you; you could talk about her far more than you could yourself.

“I can’t honestly say that I even really know her…” Steve laughed. You were sat in his bedroom one evening, the sun setting in creamy red swirls, ominous strawberry pieces in homemade ice cream. Sweet and yet worrying for reasons beyond you for the time being. You were sat at his desk, leaning back in his desk chair, turning left and right. Steve was sprawled out on his mattress, feet kicking beyond him casually, his papers spread out in front of him.

“Yeah, she doesn’t really associate with some of your friends. Tina isn’t really our biggest fan…” you replied, smiling softly. The memory of Samantha dumping a miniature carton of chocolate milk on her head in the seventh grade flashed through your mind, her shrill screech making you chuckle.

“Oh yeah? What’s up her ass?” Steve asked, turning onto his side to look at you fully. He looked incredibly posed and uncomfortable, his head placed in his palm and his ankles stacked neatly one on top of the other.

“They used to be best friends, before I showed up. Once I was on the scene, Tina decided that I was someone to bully and Samantha decided that she wanted to be my friend. They fell out because of it and Tina started bothering both of us. She stopped once we were in middle school.” You explained, pulling one of your knees to your chest.

“Tina’s a bitch…” Steve muttered, shaking his head solemnly.

“She’s got such a thing for you.” You chuckled, watching as his face coloured. You continued “Vicki too…they want you so bad.”

“How’d you know?” Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. His face was still pink, it was almost adorable.

“Oh my god, they spend every class with their heads so far up your ass!” you linked your fingers together and pulled them under your chin. You batted your lashes at him with wide eyes, starting into an imitation of Tina “Oh…Stevie, tell me more about your basketball game…oh Stevie you’re soooo strong!”

Steve pulled the pillow from the head of his bed, throwing it at your head. “Oh shut up!” he groaned. You caught the pillow, chucking it back at him, smacking him square in the face.

Steve was great to hang out with. But that sort of friendship didn’t seem to transition outside the privacy of his bedroom. In school, the rules of social interaction began again. Steve returned to the arms of Tommy H and Carol, whose attentions flip between him and Billy Hargrove, and Samantha kept you busy with her questions, her arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly into your side. And every time you passed Steve, she cracked a joke in your ear that turned you beet red.

In truth, it was clear that Samantha did not believe you when you told her that nothing was going on between the two of you. She had already decided that the pair of you were in some sort of torrid affair of Shakespearian depths. She seemed to earnestly believe that it was some secret, clandestine romance was happening behind closed doors. You didn’t really understand what she was imagining; it didn’t make sense to you. Steve was far too obviously interested in other people to be doing anything with you. You tried to point out all the girls who hung off his arm whenever she tried to embarrass you about it, but she didn’t see it.

“What you’re missing,” she said through a massive bite of cafeteria shepherd’s pie “Is that all those girls pay attention to him, but he doesn’t pay attention to them.”

“If we were having an affair, don’t you think that I would tell you about it? I tell you everything anyway.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at her.

“You didn’t tell me about Byers until I weaseled it out of you. That’s what I’m doing right now.” Samantha replied with a shrug, mushing her meal together with her plastic fork until it was a disgusting shade of brown, golden corn accenting the pile.

Talking about Jonathan Byers wasn’t fair and she knew it. In short, there was nothing to talk about. You’d had a small, teeny tiny practically nonexistent crush on the boy a year prior, but it was very clear that he didn’t like you back. Samantha had gone to Tina’s party in October, right as your crush was subsiding, and she’d told you that he was all over Nancy Wheeler. You’d had your suspicions about it, but hearing that he’d gone after someone else’s girlfriend and rejected you along the way hurt. Even though you weren’t interested, it still hurt. Samantha was still annoyed that you hadn’t told her about it until it was over, and since it was the only source of knowledge she had on your comatose love life, she brought it up all the time, much to your chagrin.

“All I do with him is sit in his room and help him study. And when I say help him study, I mean literally help him study, we do the chapter studies together and discuss the stupid book.” You said. That wasn’t the whole story; you talked a lot about life and listened to music. You were confident in saying that you were friends by now. You’d almost met his mother twice, both times in passing, and that seemed pretty important to friendships, when their family knew who you were. Still, it didn’t break into school. Steve stayed with his clique and while you tried to stray from yours, Carol or Tina would always scare you off before you spent too much time with Steve. It didn’t take much to scare you, a mere gaze could send you packing, and those two had been mastering the annoyed sneer since the fifth grade.

“Yeah, well you don’t see what I see…” Samantha muttered, turning her attention away from you and onto the loud clique at the centre of the room. Billy Hargrove was show boating, as usual, with Tina and Macy practically drooling onto their lunch trays. Vicki was trying to get Steve’s attention, her thin, spidery fingers gripping onto his wrists, speaking animatedly into his ear. Steve wasn’t facing her though; his whole body was turned away from her, and directly towards your table. Samantha noticed how he watched where you went, it’s why she thoroughly believed that something was going on beyond the surface, something even you might not realize. She knew what a person looked like when they were love struck. Often times, from the outside, it was easier to see when someone was in love with someone else before she could catch onto who actually liked her. She’d watched the women she yearned for fall in love with boring, lame men enough times to have mastered the signs of how men fall for girls. And Steve showed all the non-verbal signs. She couldn’t get a full read on you yet though.

Tommy had caught onto to Steve’s strange behaviour just as fast as Samantha had, although he wasn’t nearly as impressed. You were simply not worth the effort. Not by a long shot. You were fucking lame-never at the parties, never at dances, never at the lake on the weekends. And he knew you had money, you could afford to do all those things, you were just too much of a pussy to show your face. That was fucking pathetic! He knew his friend better than anyone else and a chick who couldn’t hang was not the girl for him. Steve liked fun girls, girls who could turn up for a last minute thing and not be weird about it. Nancy Wheeler was the farthest Steve needed to go on the preppy nerd scale, and that bitch ended up being a massive slut! Like nobody expected that shit. But Tommy knew that you didn’t have any surprises up your sleeves. Despite the fact that you never talked, he knew that you were plain about who you were. Everything was on the surface, and what he saw was not worth his friend’s time.

“Steve, buddy, I’m gonna go get another milk, walk with me.” Tommy motioned him over. Steve followed blindly, if only to get Vicki’s cold, clammy hand off him. Tommy had seen The Godfather one too many times and seemed to believe that he was some sort of small town mob boss, but Steve didn’t really mind following along with him flights of fancy. Usually they were pretty funny.

Tommy wrapped an arm around his taller friend’s shoulders, lowering his voice from the onlooker’s ears. “Listen, buddy, you gotta tell me what’s going up with that Y/N chick I mean you just keep staring at her it’s freaking weird, dude.”

“Y/N? She’s my writing partner for Lawrence’s class, she’s cool…” Steve replied, turning to catch your eye as they passed. He smiled at you, giving a short wave, which you returned with a small smile.

“She’s cool? That all?” Tommy pressed, stepping into the line and grabbing a carton of strawberry milk and the largest chocolate chip cookie in the basket. He unwrapped his arm from his shoulders, letting him go free for the first time in the conversation.

“Yeah, I mean she’s nice, what else do you want me to say?” Steve knew that was being a little defensive, but he didn’t like being questioned for his choices in friends or girls, he never questioned Tommy’s choices and he made the worst decisions most of the time. Carol was no prize and he didn’t say a word about her.

“You fucking her?” if Steve had had anything in his mouth, he would’ve spit it on the floor. Tommy didn’t even turn to look at him, paying the lunch lady in change.

“Jesus, dude, no.” Steve cried, recoiling from his friend. Tommy needed to get hit and while he didn’t have cause to do so yet, he firmly believed someone was going to do it soon.

“Hey, no need to freak out, it’s just a question.” Tommy pulled his friend back in, slapping his friend on the back. Instead of simply heading back to their lunch table, he pulled him to the side, standing next to the hot grab and go table, next to the cartons of fries.

“Now, the way I see it, you have something great going for you.” Tommy began, cracking open his milk and taking a long swig, leaving a milk film on his upper lip. “Vicki Clarke is a fucking babe and she’s begging for it! She’s all over your ass and she’s hot as hell! But you’re blowing it by spending all your time staring at some freak of nature instead. You could have a smoking hot babe at your beck and call, but you’re wasting your chances here, you see what I mean?”

“Not at all, dude.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, looking over his friend doubtfully.

“Look man, I’m just trying to set you up for success here. Because that girl,” Tommy pointed at you slyly “Is not interested. If she was, she’d be over here, acting like Vicki is. But she’s keeping herself planted at that table with that goth freakazoid.”

Steve had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, to deny having any feelings for you, but that wouldn’t mean shit if he kept watching you. And Tommy was right, there was a girl there who wanted to listen to whatever he said, who chased him down. Vicki was there and you weren’t. So he swallowed his words and went back to his table.

“Hey, Steve…” Vicki drawled. There was red lipstick on her teeth. Steve didn’t say anything about it. It didn’t make her ugly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her rest in the crook of his neck. Vicki seemed over the moon by it and it gave him something to focus on other than catching your attention.

Samantha frowned, turning her attention back to you. “What’s Steve’s opinion on Vicki Clarke?” she asked.

“He didn’t like when I told him that she had a thing for him, why?” you retorted, flipping through the college magazine in front of you. You still hadn’t chosen anywhere to apply and applications for the major schools were due in the winter and community colleges needed their applications in for the fall semester in by the end of June at the earliest.

“Well, he doesn’t seem embarrassed now.” Samantha hooked a thumb towards the couple. You looked once, narrowing your eye to scrutinize the pair.

“Eh, that seems about right…” you murmured. You wouldn’t deny that something about it hurt. But you ignored the pain until returning home from school. As always, you called before making any moves. It was the polite thing to do, even though Steve had made the plans to meet up with you after school the night before.

The phone was picked up after three rings. Steve’s car was in the driveway, not his mother’s, so you knew who would answer. “Hello?” his voice sounded anxious and breathy, maybe even annoyed.

“Steve-o, we still studying? You wanna go grab food at Hula Burger?” Steve had introduced you to the burger place in Carmel, a little mom and pop shop with the best Cajun fries in the county, at least in your opinion.

“Oh shit…” Steve muttered “Y/N I’m sorry I-I kind of made plans, can I take a rain check on the burgers?”

“Oh…yeah, sure I guess…some other time…” you said softly. You wouldn’t try to hide the disappointment in your voice. The pain you felt in the pit of your stomach returned with abundance, not exactly sore and angry pain, but more of a black hole opening up there.

“I gotta go, I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” Steve asked. He was already running late. He was supposed to pick up Vicki in twenty minutes and he still needed to shower. He had genuinely forgotten about his plans with you and he felt like an ass for doing so. He did want to hang out with you, but a date was a good step after being decimated by Nancy. He wasn’t super into Vicki, but it was still exciting to go out with someone new.

“Sure…” you hung up after that. You stood from your bed, dropping your book bag at your feet. You were used to spending afternoons alone, that wasn’t strange to you. Just because you’d spent a few days with a boy didn’t mean that he was yours to hold back from his life. You could’ve pulled a fit and tried to make him hold true to his word, the way your mother used to act towards your father. But those memories made you sick, you didn’t like that behaviour. But you also didn’t like being cancelled on. It wasn’t a feeling you were used to, not from friends at least. Samantha never really cancelled on you, she always made sure to tell you when she was busy and not agree to plans. She’d never cancelled on you for a date, even when she was dating Keith the creep she always put your friendship on a different level than him. Of course, she wasn’t really into Keith, she came out like a week after they started dating and broke up with him after kissing Jessica Klein at a house party, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Steve had ditched you and it made your heart hurt.

You couldn’t help but watch him run out of his front door and into his car. You watched it pull out of his driveway and out onto the road. It was clear to you now, Steve was more interested in passing English than he was in being your friend. Vicki Clarke was the girl to pay attention, no matter how he acted around you.

So why pretend like he was your friend at all?

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drewcline · 4 years

Text

A TASTE OF FRIDA 01, jj.m

AHHHH! First part where I explain a lot of things so I hope is not boring lol. Anyway kinda insecure as always but I hope it’s good. Enjoyy! Also let me know what you think!

Frida Montgomery did not know when she realized she was in love with JJ Maybank.

Maybe it was when he took care of her Dalmatian puppy when her family—herself included—had to go away for a week to visit some important person, Frida thinks it was the CEO of an important hotel but is not completely sure, when her parents completely forgot about the dog living in their own house.

Maybe it was that one time they had gotten out of bed because they were hungry and tried to cook some pancakes in her kitchen. The key word being “tried” since none of them were exactly Gordon Ramsay and had burnt most of them, but she remembers how much he had made her laugh that evening.

Or maybe—and most definitely—it had been the first day she met him. On the beach, at a party she had not wanted to attend since she was not a big fan of drinking or smoking and was way too shy to dance with strangers, but she had been way too mesmerized when she first gazed into his indigo orbs to deny his advances.

Why? JJ Maybank did absolutely not go for girls like her. She was not exactly skinny neither had a lot of curves. She did not have the desired flat belly, nor the big ass or the round boobs and let’s not mention the cellulite on her thighs. Her personality was also a big no in his book. Frida was awkward, shy, silent and a prude.

JJ Maybank and Frida Montgomery were polar opposites. Yet she had felt driven towards the boy when he had asked her to dance.

“Hi there, Frida right? You seem kinda lonely.” His smooth tone was carried by the wind on that particular night. When the girl did not immediately answer—since she was worried thinking on why the hell JJ was talking to her—the golden boy cleared his throat in an awkward and uncomfortable manner. “Come on! Dance with me! Live a little!”

He took both of her clammy hands on his calloused ones, making the quiet girl stand up and trip over her own feet.

“Wow there-“ He laughed and his eyes shined a little thanks to light reflected by the full moon. Frida blushed and stuttered a response.

“Sorry, I-I, uh, I’m kinda awkward if you haven’t already noticed?”

Frida internally cursed herself. Why. Why. Why did she had to make a fool out of herself when probably the most handsome guy on Outer Banks was asking her to dance.

Thankfully, JJ did not seem to mind and brushed it off with the movement of his hand, taking her waist with both of his tanned and naked arms. She reminded herself that, she was beautiful and confident and that is who she had to be to wrap her arms around his neck, taking a step closer to him, looking directly into his eyes. Something gleamed on them but was gone in a second.

She did not remember the rest of the night, regardless of the fact that she was sober. She felt drunk. Drunk off his heated gaze, or maybe his hands on every bit of her skin, his whispers on her ear. The tone of his voice, the warm touch that made her feel like a goddess, the secrecy and forbidden aspect of their dances and conversations, Frida does not know what made her do what she did next. It’s not like herself, she remembers thinking. But fuck, she does not regret kissing him.

JJ remembers the touch of her pale pink lips on his. It was not the best kiss he had ever experienced, but something about how Frida had looked at him before taking the courage to place her mouth on his had him rolling his eyes backwards. It was a slow kiss. Mouths barely opened, both of their hands holding each other’s faces closer. A romantic kiss that had him infatuated with the feeling in a nanosecond.

Why the hell had he not been kissed like that before? The passion, the intimacy of it, he couldn’t believe Frida Montgomery was the one making him feel so many different emotions at the same time.

That night, Frida had let JJ into her bedroom. First boy that had entered her favorite place in the world, and when the kisses had started to get a little bit more heated, when he had touched her thigh and moved up and up and up, she did not stop him. That night she lost her virginity to JJ Maybank.

“Wait woah-wait. You sure?” His raspy voice had asked her naked figure underneath him.

“Yeah, virginity is a burden I want to get rid of it and you are like...a sex expert or something right? So just do it.” Her confidence faltered when she met his eyes. Was that concern she noticed on his ocean eyes? “Only if you want to, of course.” Shyness replacing confidence.

He scoffed and leaned down to place a gentle bite on her already marked neck thanks to the kisses he had placed on a secluded spot at the beach. “Of course I want to. But I don’t want you to regret your first time. So, I’m only doing this if you promise me you are completely sure you won’t hate my guts tomorrow morning or when you eventually meet the guy you wanna marry.”

“Or girl.”

“Huh?”

“Guy or girl I wanna marry.” Frida looked almost conflicted but JJ did not look disgusted, turned on or like she was joking. He placed a sweet kiss on her collarbone and nodded. “Or girl.”

She smiled then, and he smiled back before taking off his boxers.

That night, it had been the start of their secret relationship. Completely platonical. No feelings, just sex. At least for the boy, because Frida had to pretend that the Pogue was just the distraction she needed in her monotonous life and had to swallow the bitter feeling she felt when she watched JJ take other girls home.

It was okay—she repeated that sentence like a mantra—she was okay with being just friends with benefits. Were they even friends? Frida liked to think so, even though if he sometimes disappeared in the middle of the night when they were done, or when he acted as he didn’t know her when Sarah and herself passed the Pogue’s boat and his friends threw disgusted looks their way. It did not made her feel like trash or tear her insides apart.

It was not his fault. They both agreed the next morning of that special night that it was just a distraction for their shitty lifes. She had agreed. She had yearned for his touch, his company, something different from her already planned life. Something that would make her parents, Marie and Donald Montgomery, have a heart attack.

Frida did not hate her parents, at least she was trying hard not to. Their conservatives ideals and obsession for controlling every aspect of hers and her younger brother Sean’s lives, of only 4, made the aspect of not wanting to run away very hard.

The morning after the night she realized her period was late, Frida was on a baby blue sundress with Sarah Cameron—her lost sister—, her annoying but yet hot brother Rafe and her boyfriend Topper. They were on a picnic and if she was being honest, everything made her want to puke, or maybe it was the fact that Sarah and Topper were practically doing it in front of her.

“So, Frida.” Rafe Cameron’s tone could not mean good things. It was a teasing one, the one that he uses to taunt the Pogues or Topper when he is being his usual whipper-for-Sarah self. “I see you are not eating. Is it because you have gained weight or—”

“Excuse me?” Frida’s words were interrupted by the blonde beauty in front of her.

“Rafe! What the actual fuck!” Sarah gasped, mouth opened while fury was reflected on her beautiful eyes. She stood up, making her boyfriend look up with puppy eyes full of adoration for her. “You are such a disgusting pig. Come on Frida.” The mentioned girl got up at her command and intertwined their arms like they always did. “I’m so sorry! I knew it was a bad idea to bring him along but he told me he wanted to come and—”

Frida looked at her best friend with a pity look. “It’s okay babes, really.” It wasn’t. Frida had struggled with body image since she was 13 and Sarah knew it but she was not going to let the blonde feel guilty over her own insecurities and over something her brother had said. “I mean it’s true that I have gained a little bit of weight and it’s not your fault. I don’t want you to feel guilty over his words, okay honey?”

“But it is not okay! Also, it doesn’t matter that you have gained weight! So what! It’s your body! He doesn’t have the right to comment on it or anybody, really. Ugh!”

The princess Kook screamed at her irritation towards the attitude of her brother and paused when she felt Frida’s stiffness. Her freckled face had gained a bit of baby fat and her round cheeks were tinted by a red blush.

“Listen about the weight thing, it, uh, it may be about something else. Uh—it’s just, it’s kinda complicated but—” Sarah’s eyebrows furrowed to demonstrate her confused state. “So, I have this fear right now that—” Frida giggled, almost like it was a stupid thing, to be afraid of falling pregnant at the age of 16. “—anyway, and don’t freak out but, my period is very late and I have been throwing up every morning and, I have the urge to eat a lot of things at 3AM. And my period is fucking late as fuck Sarah and my parents are going to kill me.”

“No way. There’s no way, right?” Sarah looked at Frida with an indescribable look in her eyes. One of disbelief. “Tell me you have been careful with whoever you were sleeping with—Frida, oh my God.”

The freckled young girl bit her lip in hesitation. “One month ago, we were on his job’s bathroom and he didn’t have condoms with him bu-but I’m taking the pill!”

“Okay, okay. Let’s not freak out. Maybe it’s a virus or maybe you have been stressed about the Midsummer’s organization and that has upset your stomach.”

Both of the girls looked at each other with mixed emotions swimming in their orbs.

“Whatever it is and whatever happens next, you know you have me, right? I’m not going anywhere Frida.”

Tears of relief escaped through the Montgomery’s brown eyes. She stopped walking and with shaking knees sat on the green grass. She could hear the buzzing of insects and some of the mud on the floor had stained her expensive dress. She did not want to say it, but she wasn’t sure JJ would stay by her side if she was pregnant and the thought of her parents supporting her during the pregnancy seemed laughable.

“Thank you. Really. I-I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t even know how I’m gonna tell JJ that-”

“JJ?” Sarah’s voice was full of incredulity and a bitterness Frida had not heard before. “Kiara Carrera’s friend?”

Frida nodded, not finding the right words to justify her secret affair with the blonde surfer. She knew Sarah did not have the best relationship with the Carrera girl and her friends but hoped that—if JJ decided that he wanted to be involved—they could get along for her sake.

Sarah sighed and the green dress with white dots she was wearing that day shifted with the exaggerated movement. She grabbed her hand and caressed the exterior of it to calm the quiet girl. “Let’s go.”

To say buying pregnancy tests when you were 16 in a small island where everyone knew absolutely everybody was awkward was an understatement. The 40-year-old thinned-lip woman threw a judgemental look her way when Sarah asked for a box of pregnancy tests. When she disappeared to get them, Frida narrowed her eyes and muttered under her breath.

“Well, thank you for your understanding, you are making this so much easier for me right now woman.”

With the tests on her hand, both of the teenagers quickly moved through town to arrive at Tannyhill. Now, on Sarah’s bathroom, everything seemed to be on slow-motion. Her heartbeat, however, was beating too fast. Way too fast. Frida was sitting on the closed toilet with her best friend in between her knees, their hands intertwined and even though the AC was on, a drop of sweat could be seen travel down Frida’s temple. The alarm on their phones beeped at the exact moment, signifying the moment of truth.

“Do you want me to look at it?”

“No.” Frida hated the fact that she had to face the consequences of her mistake but if her dad had taught her something was to be responsible. An advice she had ignored when JJ had been kissing her on that bathroom stall and his fingers were inside her. Now, the astronomical mistake was there, in front of her eyes.

“Positive.”

tags: @teamnick @lolitstiana @ssjiara @outerbankslut

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paintedvanilla · 4 years

Text

paintedvanilla’s good omens fic recommendations

here we have something I’ve been too shy to make for a while because. to be straight with you. more than half of these are explicit. and well. yeah.

works listed in escalating rating order (general -> teen -> mature -> explicit)

everything is completed unless otherwise noted.

Title: Bowties

Author: dvldegg ( @caerdroia )

Rating: General

Word Count: 776

Summary: “Newt needs help tying his bowtie. Crowley makes fun of Aziraphale. It's just a typical weekend.”

My Notes: This fic caused me to overdose on domestic cuteness.

Title: anywhere i go you go, my dear

Author: chamaenerion

Rating: General

Word Count: 1,533

Summary: “After the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, Crowley is reluctant to leave Aziraphale's side.”

My Notes: I will literally die i swear to god this has nervous and protective crowley and he’s clingy and overall I just wanted to scream I love him I love my boy and they’re so in love and they should always be allowed to be together

Title: Getting a Wiggle On

Author: Kedreeva

Rating: General

Word Count: 7,293

Summary: “Crowley's prank to leave Aziraphale with fake eggs to babysit does not go remotely as planned.”

My Notes: You’ve probably seen this concept floating around tumblr but this fic made me GENTLE because i have daddy issues and whenever people are like “crowley and aziraphale as parents” i have a fucking heart attack

Title: Adopt Don’t Shop - A Good Meowmans Fanfic

Author: lucky_spike

Rating: General

Word Count: 12,434

Summary: “Inspired by Chekhov's cat AU comics 'Good Meowmens', here is a fanfic in which Anathema and Newt are humans, and Aziraphale and Crowley are cats. Not disguised as cats, not trapped in cat bodies, just actual elderly cats that are inseparable.”

My Notes: I know some people think au’s like this are kinda weird but this one is so fucking charming to me idk??? I literally ate this shit up I love being gentle and reading about cats who are in love.

Title: Not Alone

Author: superqueerdanvers

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 937

Summary: “Crowley and Anathema are supposed to meet Aziraphale at the movies, but they can't find a parking place, and they have a heart-to-heart about disability.”

My Notes: I experienced feelings and also emotions while reading this and now i’m a different person

Title: bastard child of water

Author: smallredboy ( @smallredb0y )

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 15,622

Summary: “After a grave mistake, Crowley, a merman, is transformed into a human and exiled out of the sea. Issues crop up as he grows used to his new body, to his new friends and to his new job. But when a merman he's seen in passing pokes his head out of the water one afternoon, Crowley will fall for him and look for a way to regain his body.”

My Notes: THIS FIC MAKES ME LOSE MY SHIT i bribed dave with real life money to finish it and every day i’m thankful i made that decision because this fic is SO. FUCKING. GOOD. IT’S TENDER!! IT’S GENTLE!! IT MAKES ME LOSE MY GODDAMN MIND!!!!!

Title: Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach

Author: Nnm

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 99,423

Summary: “As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following:

His clothing was expensive and stylish;

He wore very strange but noticeable cologne;

His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;”

He looked angry;

He was wearing sunglasses.”

My Notes: OH!!!!!!!! MY GOD!!!!!!!!! THIS FIC DESTROYED ME EMOTIONALLY!!!!!!! IT RIPPED MY FUCKING HEART OUT AND FORCED ME TO DEAL WITH #ISSUES AND JUST OVERALL TURNED ME INTO A DISASTER!!!! I READ THIS SHIT IN ONE SITTING!!! I WAS HOOKED!!!! EVEN NOW JUST THINKING ABOUT IT IS DEALING PSYCHIC DAMAGE!!!!!! PLEASE READ THIS!!!

Title: The Odd One Out

Author: RainyDayDecaf

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,948

Summary: “It takes being thrown into another universe and meeting other versions of himself to make Aziraphale realize there is something wrong with the way his Crowley treats him.”

My Notes: A product of the shit-script, literally had me feeling emotions but also giggling because movie!Aziraphale deserves to be LOVED.

Title: A Single Feather

Author: qwanderer

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,521

Summary: “Here's the thing. Demons must be good at improv, at hiding reactions, at carrying on no matter what. They can’t show a moment of vulnerability, not to each other, and certainly not to angels. They were supposed to be tough, untrusting, paranoid bastards, or else.

So Crowley had developed a highly honed skill of automatically bullshitting, boasting, and mocking while covering up his true emotions, and it was in full force now.”

My Notes: I’m a simple woman. I see a nesting fic, I click on it. And it makes me emotional and afterwards I have to lay face down on the floor.

Title: Untouched

Author: Etaleah

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3,531

Summary: “A demon's life is a lonely one. What Crowley wants is so simple, yet he can never have it.”

My Notes: I will literally fly into the sun if I see the tag “touch starved crowley” i will scream at the top of my lungs. Somebody please hold this demon.

Title: Penance

Author: Blissymbolics

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5,910

Summary: “And for a while, it’s enough.

It’ll happen, Crowley tells himself. This time, it’ll finally happen.”

My Notes: Listen. This fic destroyed me, it made me tender horny and just overall ruined my night in the best way possible. I’m having a crisis over it as we speak.

Title: Starved

Author: Fyre

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,351

Summary: “The first time the angel touches him, it’s as they descend from the walls of Eden.

It’s nothing, only a hand put out to steady him. A kindness. And yet a thousand memories from life below make Crawly flinch instinctively at the contact. It’s stupid, really, and he’s sure the angel doesn’t notice. He doesn’t stop to consider the fact that the angel’s hand was soft and for a moment, his skin tingled where it touched. Not right away, anyway.”

My Notes: AHH!! Crowley really said “I am touch starved please love me” like!! Imagine craving someone’s touch for SIX THOUSAND YEARS!! I’D GO BONKERS!! THIS FIC MADE ME GO BONKERS!!

Title: can you keep me close (can you love me most)

Author: taizi

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,268

Summary: “When his angel stretches out a hand, cupid’s bow mouth curved into a familiar smile, Crowley knows better. When he’s led to his own bedroom, pushed down amidst the silk sheets and hastily miracled pillows and a sinful duvet, when Aziraphale leans over him and the whole world seems to hang right there in his eyes, Crowley knows that this is not his to keep. It’s not for him to have this.”

My Notes: I can will and must LITERALLY EXPLODE the tension in this one is palatable and I snort hurt/comfort like cocaine.

Title: please, could you be tender?

Author: deadgreeks

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,262

Summary: “The first kiss is only the beginning of a relationship. Crowley and Aziraphale need to talk about things. That is not their strong suit.”

My Notes: I ache and I yearn for this type of content they are literally. They are LITERALLY… I’m going to burst into flames.

Title: The Quiet, Persistent, Gnawing Unease

Author: LillipopCop

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 20,850

Summary: “An exploration of the serious toll Hell's physical and psychological grip has taken on Crowley since his Fall.”

My Notes: Fics where Crowley experiences emotional distress own my ass.

Title: Make a Little Birdhouse in Your Soul

Author: Zolac_no_Miko

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 10,573

Summary: “It was a compulsion that he couldn’t quite define. A burning in his blood, a tingle on the palms of his hands. A restlessness that drove him to art galleries, antique stores, and street markets, seeking some object that would please Aziraphale. Something beautiful, or something useful—something he would want to keep. It started with little things, small tokens that didn’t require a special occasion: an embroidered silk bookmark; a rare and delicate tea from the highlands of China; a steel pen and inkwell to replace Aziraphale’s quill pen, and then a fountain pen to replace that. And then things started to get out of hand.”

My Notes: Another nesting fic that almost wiped me the fuck out.

Title: Crown of Thorns [The Walls, the Wainscot, and the Mouse] 'Verse

Author: irisbleufic ( @irisbleufic )

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 275,000

Summary: ““D’you realize,” [Crowley] said, “that we never tire of things humans get bored with on the regular?” Aziraphale shrugged, lazily basking. “I’ve always assumed it’s that we don’t tire of each other.””

My Notes: Please for the love of god and all that is holy if you have not read this fic, read it. I consider it canon.

Title: fires of the flesh, both literal and figurative

Author: mercuryhatter

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,726

Summary: “Pretty standard "there's a sex curse and Crowley has to have way too many orgasms or be discorporated" stuff.”

My Notes: Yeah this is. Where I’m gonna start to get shy about my notes. It’s funny and it’s hot. Yeah.

Title: The Understanding

Author: Zetared

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 37,918

Summary: “Crowley is untethered. Aziraphale knows how to secure a knot. (He’s read many books on the subject, after all).”

My Notes: In which the underlying plot is a little strange but the overlying porn is very good.

Title: Come Fuck Me Hips

Author: AgentStannerShipper

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,471

Summary: “Crowley has had a fantasy about Aziraphale for centuries now. Too bad the angel would never take him up on it. Except, as it turns out, he absolutely would.”

My Notes: Everybody has read this and if you haven’t then you better because it’s. It’s good.

Title: If I Regard Iniquity

Author: elektratios

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,912

Summary: ““Aziraphale…” Crowley’s mouth worked a bit but no more words would come out. He cleared his throat. “Aziraphale, there’s no,” he gestured vaguely, “iniquity here.” He winced at his choice of words. “No-one is watching, no-one is judging. It’s just us.””

My Notes: I will literally dunk myself in the trash holy shit. It’s. It’s good.

Title: that pulse of my nights and days

Author: Ark

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,694

Summary: “Aziraphale laughs, the delighted, breathy giggle he gives after his second bottle of champagne. “Such a shame we didn’t come to this sooner,” he says, pulling back and—oh, naughty angel!—increasing the length and girth of his cock when he pushes back in. Crowley gasps, and Aziraphale—greedy, too!—tilts in to swallow the sound from his lips, flicks his tongue against Crowley’s as though chasing after the flavor of this elongated pleasure.”

My Notes: This one is uh. This is a dirty one. It’s good but it sure is filthy.

Title: A Home at the Beginning of the World

Author: stereobone

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,867

Summary: “"Oh," Aziraphale says. "I think Crowley might have moved in with me."”

My Notes: Everyone has read this one too but for good reason because it’s fucking amazing and makes me wanna scream.

Title: The One In Which Crowley Discovers Wanking

Author: for_autumn_i_am

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,784

Summary: “It began, like most memorable events in Crowley’s life did, with a bad decision; like most bad decisions, it involved poor impulse control and copious amounts of alcohol. The Antichrist had been born, and he put on lipstick and kitten heels to deal with it, but knew that the clock was ticking, and at times when time was slipping away, it helped to hold onto a bottle of gin.”

My Notes: It’s what the title says and it’s hot.

Title: Love Hath Made Thee A Tame Snake

Author: thehoyden

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,484

Summary: “He was the bloody Serpent of Eden, and he wasn’t going to stand for this kind of flagrant trespassing.”

My Notes: It’s uhhhhhhh… it’s hot!

Title: A Bolt From The Heavens

Author: coloursflyaway

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11,235

Summary: “Aziraphale is going to show Crowley just how much he is loved. Through touch.”

My Notes: I will LITERALLY collapse on the floor… it’s too much for me

Title: Say Amen

Author: SinningPlumpPrincess

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,967

Summary: “Despite being in a relationship, they still long and yearn for each other.

Despite being in a relationship, Crowley can't get over that Aziraphale loves touching him.”

My Notes: I’m a very simple woman. I see a fic tagged “dry humping” and I click on it.

Title: Praise Be to Crowley

Author: FishingforCrows

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,306

Summary: “A simple comment from Aziraphale gets an unexpected reaction from Crowley. Aziraphale is curious to see what happens if he repeats the same comment in the bedroom.”

My Notes: It has praise kink crowley how am I not supposed to find it hot.

Title: Tea for One

Author: Kaesa

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,072

Summary: “Crowley doesn't have a lot of complaints about sex with Aziraphale, but he can't help being miffed when Aziraphale stops just to have another sip of tea.”

My Notes: A two for one: funny and sexy

Title: rest yourself with me

Author: sabinelagrande

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,380

Summary: “Crowley has a wonderful invention that he's just dying to try.”

My Notes: It’s funny and it’s hot what more could you ask for?

Title: let the rivers fill

Author: focusfixated

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,996

Summary: ““Darling,” Aziraphale answered. “I’m here.” His hand stroked through Crowley’s hair, teasing out the snarls of red that tangled around his fingers, matted with sweat and knotted where Crowley had thrashed his head against the pillows. “Can you turn over for me, love?” Weakly, Crowley’s eyes flickered down, and he saw the angel blushing, as if now, suddenly, of all things, he had succumbed to reticence. He was sat back on his knees, and the soft accordion folds of him were dewy with sweat and moonlight. His heart constricting somewhere in his useless chest, Crowley turned over, and spread his legs.”

My Notes: I see overstimulation and I fucking floor it. Please never stop writing fics where they have limitless stamina.

Title: sweet just like frustration

Author: teatales

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7,174

Summary: “Crowley danced on the line between self-serving and selfless when it came to Aziraphale. He would do anything, anything for the angel. Anything he asked, anything he suggested, anything he needed but didn’t say aloud. But Crowley was also a terribly, desperately greedy thing. And oh, how he wanted. Wanted Aziraphale with every damned fibre of his infernal being. Wanted to be good for him; so, so good that he would never want to leave. Crowley wanted to be the best, his only, his everything. As much as he wished to lie there in exquisite rapture - he was nothing if not lazy - he needed to at least attempt to communicate all that he felt. To make Aziraphale feel even a quarter of what he experienced. He had to try.”

My Notes: Just LOOK at that summary. How can I read that summary without being expected to fucking faint. Jesus christ!!

Title: The Human Way

Author: battle_cat

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,780

Summary: “They're finally about to fuck on the bookshop couch and Aziraphale wants to know what Crowley wants.”

My Notes: I SEE A FIC WHERE CROWLEY DOESN’T KNOW WHAT HE WANTS AND IS JUST TRYING TO MAKE AZIRAPHALE HAPPY AND I BURST INTO FLAMES

Title: We Waited Long Enough

Author: syrupfactory

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,170

Summary: “After a few months of (finally) officially dating, Aziraphale is a little hurt when Crowley seems amused by his eagerness for sex. Why? Because Aziraphale actually wants way, way more. Fortunately, that's a fun problem to solve.”

My Notes: THEY EACH THINK THE OTHER ISN’T AS INTERESTED IN HAVING SEX AS THEY ARE AND THEN THEY HAVE MARATHON SEX AND I’M SWEATING.

Title: As Advertised on TV

Author: Mr_Customs_Man

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,045

Summary: “Everything that Crowley knew about sex, he learned from watching movies. As fun as movies are, they don't provide a comprehensive sex education. Needless to say, he has some misconceptions in regards to the act.”

My Notes: This is NOT a sexy fic!! It is sad and it wrenches my heart and I WORRY. Crowley please communicate your NEEDS.

Title: until you say it out loud

Author: attheborder

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6,293

Summary: “And Aziraphale is realizing now, to its fullest, something he’s suspected for nearly as long as he’s known Crowley: the demon is no silver-tongued devil. He is no weaver of words, no smooth talker. It would fit in with his image, certainly— shouldn’t a man-shaped being dressed like an oilslick have speech just as dark and slippery— but there’s very little of either of them that’s as it ought to be, really.”

My Notes: This fic ignited me and I burst into flames. You’re probably starting to see a trend in what I like to read.

Title: Coitus Interruptus with Paperwork

Author: mountagrue

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,780

Summary: “The one where Azira Fell (directly onto Crowley's dick, did not pass go, did not fill out the appropriate forms).”

My Notes: Scream this is funny and horny Aziraphale falls and immediately gets to dicking down his demon while Gabriel suffers the aftermath.

Title: What Crowley Wants

Author: crookedashes

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7,022

Summary: “Aziraphale wants to give Crowley what he wants most. It goes a bit sideways.”

My Notes: I die for this content can they communicate like normal people for FIVE MINUTES? Ft. Crowley feeling inadequate and me flying into the sun.

Title: All The Rest

Author: darlingred1

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11,416

Summary: “If it weren’t for Aziraphale’s persistence, they wouldn’t have had a sex life at all, and Crowley was a demon, for goodness sake! Aziraphale didn’t understand it. (Aziraphale has the communication skills of a doorknob. Crowley isn't any better.)”

My Notes: Aziraphale and Crowley are like *has horny communication issues* and i’m like *nuts*

Title: and in this way their love rewrites the universe

Author: leaveanote

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9,503

Summary: “They've been desperately in love for a year since the world didn't end, and they've been making little miracles happen for each other. Crowley's latest? A date outside of London, at a drive-in movie theatre in the South Downs. Yes, they have sex in the Bentley.”

My Notes: IT’S SAPPY IT’S TENDER IT’S HORNY IT’S ROMANTIC THEY INVENTED LOVE!!!

Title: sanctuary

Author: leaveanote

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6,779

Summary: “It's about making a home together. It takes some getting used to, to take all this longing and transmute it into love, into something shared, but Aziraphale is here to help him get used to it. Especially on a stormy day in the cottage.

What better way to spend it than making love over and over and over?”

My Notes: I am literally a mess I read fics where they’re madly in love and want to stay close and I explode

Title: The Skin And Bones Of You

Author: entangelednow

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,001

Summary: “In which Crowley has spent six thousand years wanting something he doesn't think he deserves. It's only natural to assume he won't get to keep it.”

My Notes: I swear to god i will SCREAM!! IT’S TOO MUCH!! PLEASE NEVER STOP WRITING CROWLEY AS INSECURE.

Title: love like the dawn

Author: leaveanote

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,755

Summary: “This is sleepy, romantic, domestic morning sex in the South Downs Cottage. Crowley's still getting used to a love this good, the way it remakes him, the way it remakes the world.”

My Notes: I can’t with this like they’re just so in love I’ve lost the ability to breathe this fic stole my lungs and left me for dead

Title: to sleep, perchance to dream

Author: starkhasheart

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,023

Summary: “Crowley has a kink. Of course Aziraphale is going to indulge him.”

My Notes: Uhhhhhh it’s. Uhhh. Consensual somnophilia is uh… yeah.

Title: on the same page

Author: Chekhov

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~85,746

Summary: “Aziraphale Z. Fell is a rising star of the spiritual literary genre - the next Eat Pray Love guy - and his version of Chicken Soup For the Christian Soul is flying off the shelves. It's not that he's not grateful, but it's one thing to enjoy a career in writing and another completely to be pigeonholed into a specific genre, so much so that you are almost forbidden from writing anything else. So yes, maybe he has a bit of a secret. An outlet for his less... appropriate urges. And yes, if his typical readership got word of the sort of paragraphs he could put out on a particularly inspired night, they might suffer some form of heart attack typical for their age. But all of that is well hidden, and there is absolutely no way anyone would ever find out about his Arrangement with A.J. Crowley - the most debaucherous romantic fiction author of the decade. That is... until they have to pretend to be married to each other.”

My Notes: THIS ONE ISN’T FINISHED YET BUT IT’S A HUMAN AU AND EVERY UPDATE MAKES ME FOAM AT THE MOUTH

Title: be mine

Author: leaveanote

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,994

Summary: “It's their first Valentine's Day together, and Crowley is trying to pick out the right present.”

My Notes: I SCREAM I actually did not realize how many of this authors works I had bookmarked and HOLY SHIT!! THEY ARE JUST SO IN LOVE!! AHHHHH!!

Title: do we get what we deserve

Author: Smalls

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11,064

Summary: “Crowley had not been a particularly good angel.

Unfortunately, Crowley had never been a particularly good demon either.”

My Notes: Cannot lie this had me openly sobbing on a Friday morning and left me emotionally raw

Title: Renting Crowley

Author: Amorous_Flammetta

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8,018

Summary: “Crowley acts out Aziraphale's Victorian-era fantasy of taking a rent boy home for the night. Their little game includes costumes, champagne, dirty talk and explicit sex!”

My Notes: ITS A RENT BOY FANTASY BUT IT’S ALSO TENDER AND LOVING AND IT HAD ME SWEATING AND MADE ME EMOTIONAL

Title: do me right and do me wrong (give it up, give it up)

Author: seashadows

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10,828

Summary: “Crowley copes with attention starvation, tries out some new hobbies, and discovers that asking for what you need is better than the alternative.”

My Notes: I’M GOING TO FUCKING EXPLODE THIS ONE MADE ME SCREAM LIKE I JUST CANNOT HANDLE IT ATTENTION STARVATION WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME

Title: For The Longest Time

Author: darlingred1

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 20,370

Summary: “Crowley kind of misses the pining when it's gone. Aziraphale comes up with a solution.”

My Notes: It was hot and funny and lasted just long enough to really make me antsy for the conclusion.

Title: Clementine

Author: Mussimm

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 49,073

Summary: “The seaside neighbours AU exactly one person asked for.”

My Notes: HUMAN AU WHERE THEY LIVE BY THE BEACH AND FALL IN LOVE AKA BE STILL MY BEATING HEART

Title: Gentle but Intoxicating, Nervous but Tender

Author: ShortInsomniac98 ( @devilsss-dyke )

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,868

Summary: “Crowley x vulva-having reader. // It wasn’t what you’d expected when you agreed to come home with him. What you’d expected was a maybe a quick, clumsy fuck, then out the door. Not some nervous but tender man who stammered out an, 'Is this okay then?' This was much nicer, much sweeter.”

My Notes: No comment besides uhhhhhh [sweats]

#op #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fic rec #good omens fic recs #good omens fic recommendation #some links are n-s-f-w

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carry-on-my-wayward-boi · 3 years

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It wasn't until the doctor looked me in the eye to describe monotonously that my constant headaches were product of the incredible stress that my body (especially my neck, god help that poor bastard) carried along, that I realise how utterly ridiculous is to long for a romantic life. Yeah, on paper it's beautiful to follow the day after day of the martyr, how he puts his desires aside in favor to achieve the greatest dream, the happiness of others, the world salvation. Or to empathically accompany that one character that his sacrifices are never seen by the others, always ignored in the dusty lobby of the family hall, not even acknowledged when they patch up their cuts and bruises. How we yearn for the tired and resigned smile of the one that stands it all in stride, never falling, and even when he does, it's so beautiful, broken, brave.

Yes, we loved the romantic brokenness in the stories we follow, but it's really difficult to find the same beauty in our everyday life's, specially in our owns. You see, I couldn't care less that if my life was a story lot of people would love watching (my fallings, my achievements and all my emotions in between) in that moment, I couldn't romanticise my freaking headaches, oh great autor, because it just hurt so much. My breakdowns are not aesthetically pretty, and my bad days are boring and deeply lonely. (Not even one would notice them, cause fans don't even exist to see them)

So I say, this is crazy, how I love the brokenness so much if this is what it feels like? And I must be crazy, cause I'm writing about this at 10 in the morning when I'm supposed to research why Barium is so rad. But life moves in circles, and our stories would keep on repeating itselves.

I just hope you don't have headaches

#depictions of a real life #my writing

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meanminyxrd · 3 years

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punchdrunk but it’s andreil based

hey losers i’m back with another song analysis, as always. i have a playlist for my andreil vibes if you’re curious, here it is. i actually have a lot but this one is for my slightly sad yearning andreil vibes.

anyways, today we are covering punchdrunk by vaines. i really really enjoy this song for them and i hope i can covey it!! let’s go (:

I remember driving your car 'cause I never had one

And if I did I probably would’ve crashed it

And if I died who would’ve cared?

Maybe you would cry sometimes

Maybe you would just be fine

Because I know we weren’t in love

You just wanted to pass the time

(And that was alright)

the first line of this is pretty black and white. neil driving andrew’s car <3333 that’s it that’s the tweet. when he’s saying he’d crash one if he had his own its because he has to destroy a lot and leave stuff behind because of his past. he constantly is working to hide his past from the FBI. furthermore, he thought he was going to die for the majority of the books, and when he died, who was supposed to care? he had no one. it was this ‘me, myself, and i’ mentality because that was what kept him alive. he was constantly in danger, and when he was with andrew that’s why he made him take away the promise; he didn’t want andrew hurt because of his actions. by saying ‘maybe you would cry sometimes, maybe you would be just fine’ shows how he doesn’t think andrew actually cares ab him because 1. neil is an oblivious fuck and 2. andrew is a raging tsundere. andrew is always like ‘i dont like u’ blah blah, explaining the line ‘because i know we weren’t in love you just wanted to pass the time’ but neil was okay w it; ‘and that was alright’

I got it bad and I feel so lonely

Thought I wanted love I just wanted you

Now we’re together but you don’t even know me

But I’m stuck, what am I gonna do?

uhhh, like, poor fuckin neil man. he really had it bad for this man i really dunno how he survived when andrew was in the mental hospital HAHA. but fr he must have been so lonely, never allowing himself to make attachments, and then he makes this really skewed one with some midget maniac and then that same man goes to a hospital. that can’t have been a fun time (and it wasn’t).

‘thought i wanted love i just wanted you’, god, i love this line. remember when he looks at nicky and matt to see if he feels anything different? sees if he feels attracted to them, but he doesnt? he thinks he’s just craving affection after all this time, but no, its andrew he craves, it’s andrew he wants and chooses.

‘now we’re together but you dont even know me’ this motherfucker is living behind this silly ‘neil’ persona for a time when he’s with andrew and andrew only has this red headed man built of half truths. ‘now im stuck, what am i gonna do?’ he can’t run away like he’s used to because now he cares about andrew and he’s promised to stay.

Guess I’ll stick around

Being with you is only making me feel

Like I’m further from you then I’ve ever been

But I’m right there when you call me 'cause I’m so lonely

I don’t wanna bring it to an end

now, neil stays because he promised andrew he would, and andrew makes him feel so different and special and happy. but also while he’s with andrew he feels so far away because he isn’t being himself and andrew keeps denying whatever this,,, scuffed relationship is. but whenever andrew initiates contact, asks him yes or no, tells him to meet him somewhere or do something, neil is THERE in a heartbeat because he’s so caught up with the idea of andrew and he doesn’t want what they have to ever end even tho he’s convinced it will, one day, come to that point.

I remember feeling so young

Nothing's gonna bring me down

And if you jumped I would’ve followed

All the way down to the bottom

Better days are over now

Everything is slowing down

And you still won’t say it’s love

You just wanna pass the time

Fine

being with andrew brings him up, makes him happy, makes him FEEL something. nothing was gonna take him away from that. he would have followed andrew anywhere because he quite literally trusted andrew with his life. but the good days are over, (cut to baltimore) he’s being fucked up by his dad’s men and he thinks he’s gonna die then (cut to post baltimore) andrew does all this shit for him but STILL says he doesnt care ab neil and he just wants to pass the time. and neil is like, fine, what the fuck ever. if this is just a cheap fuck then by god im going to enjoy it while it lasts. and he’s starting to think andrew might feel *something*, but there’s no confirmation that can be seen by our lovely oblivious lil man.

Don’t stop, I know that it’s not what

I want but I need somebody to be mine

Oh god, I can’t tell you what’s up

I’m so deep in punch drunk, dumb love

I don’t ever wanna wake up

he doesnt want to be tied down. trusting someone and staying in one place for a long time? no. no way. that’s not something that neil abram josten does. he does not stay, he does not trust anyone, and by god he does NOT fall in love. but he gets to a point where he needs andrew. all he can think of in the hospital is the foxes and andrew, god, ANDREW, the prick he’s fallen in love with and can’t get out of love with. and he begs andrew to let him stay (post baltimore, hotel scene) because he NEEDS to stay, he NEEDS the foxes but more importantly he NEEDS andrew. but he’ll leave if he has to. he’ll leave if andrew asks him to because he cares more about andrew than he does himself, but he can’t explain any of this to andrew, because he’s never felt this before and he doesnt know what he’s even feeling. he just knows that somewhere along the line he fell head over heels into this situation for andrew and god he doesnt think he’ll ever be ready for it to end.

Got me brainwashed, everything is hazy

Am I killing time? Are you killin' me?

Mind games daily, why do I let you play me?

Do you get high watching me bleed?

(Now I’m bleeding out)

this part, for me, is more so a cut to the first book when andrew is just fuckin manic 24/7 because of his drugs. he drugs neil (brainwashed, hazy) and kidnaps him. neil is so stressed out by this situation that he doesn’t know who is winning in this stupid war he has with this psycho midget (am i killing time? are you killing me?). we all know andrew joseph minyard LOVES to torment neil even when shit is chill so he plays mind games with him constantly, and neil just lets it happen, because that’s who neil *is*. nathaniel wouldn’t stand for this shit, but that’s not the personality he’s portrayed and he isn’t eager to break character; not yet. and andrew always is so damn HAPPY, no matter what, bc of the drugs (again, first book for this verse). so the ‘do you get high watching me bleed?’ is like neil being like, do u really enjoy watching everyone around you hurt?? are you actually happy with all of this?

Running in circles while you hurt me, guess I deserve it

'Cause I just keep on worshiping you again and again

And I’m there when you call me 'cause I’m so– *beep*

I don’t want the misery to end

this part is a little tricky to explain canonically, i guess, but i attribute it once more to andrew denying his feelings. nora never explains it in the books, but i know from experience that this is SUCH a confusing scenario to be in. to have someone acting like they care and speaking differently. and neil must have been so confused (running in circles) but he feels he deserves it because it isnt like he’s trying to leave or anything, and he’s always there when andrew asks because like it or not, he’s attached. even tho this confusion sucks sometimes, and the whole hearted belief he has that andrew really does not care hurts beyond belief inside, he buries those feelings because he isnt ready to let andrew go.

that’s pretty much all of it; can you tell i’m obsessed with andreil?? i just love them so much. they’re so special to me. like, i dont think either of them ever saw a relationship coming; it just happened, and that’s what is so inherently beautiful to me about them. it started with a kiss, a ‘yes or no?’ and escalated from there. neil expected one day andrew was going to get bored of him, just like andrew always said he was. but he never did. he never will.

so yeah!! hope u enjoyed xoxo see y’all soon <3

#aftg #song analysis #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #playlists #songs #music

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hija-del-trueno · 4 years

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Golden Hour

Anidala Week 2020|Day 5 - Song Inspired

Author’s Note: This shelter at home got me to hear some new music that is way out of my usual...so I fell in love with Kacey Musgraves and this is what resulted. Please enjoy

It took awhile for Padme to get used to Coruscant. If the universe could peek into her world they would know that when she first moved to Coruscant to join the Galactic Senate she was homesick for about six months and would spend most of her nights crying. Naboo was nothing like Coruscant.

The first time she went to Coruscant was when she graduated from the Apprentice Legislators program. Her and her young colleagues all received medals for becoming junior senatorial advisers and they got to meet Senator Palpatine. As they arrived, she remembered being scared of falling off the landing platform into the abyss of the lower levels. Padme would ask herself what was at the core of Coruscant. Where was the floor and what was it like? She never really cared to find out.

Being the ecumenopolis that it was, Padme got lost in its artificialness. There were no green soft pastures, no roaring waterfalls, no flaura, and no fauna. Only skyscrapers and endless amount of speeders. The sky was filled with smog on any particular day and don’t get her started on the smells. It was perhaps the planet that never slept.

Eventually she realized she could not resolve anything with being homesick and decided to bring her home to her. She began making 500 Republica as much of Naboo as possible. It was rare that you would see her anywhere else after work, because she would immediately head for home and bask in her own little Naboo.

But most recently Padme discovered something she absolutely loved about Coruscant. She was not sure how she had missed out on it before. Golden Hour. The period of daytime shortly before Coruscant Prime set. From her view, she saw the beautiful hues of soft yellow and orange glowing. It almost seemed like time stopped and the whole world bowed to the sun.

“Doesn’t this remind you of something?” his husky timbre broke her from her reverie.

All that I know, is you caught me at the right time

“Mmm a lot of things,” she said as she leaned into his arms behind her.

Keep me in your glow

'Cause I'm having such a good time, with you

“Like what?” His cheek brushed against the side of her face.

It was moments like these she cherished the most. The time between her initial excitement of seeing him again and the worry that would engulf when their time was running out. She’d jump his bones when he came to her and she would cry when he was leaving. But this time in between was precious. It was normal. The waking up together and having breakfast together. Learning all his intricacies. Like him sitting in a room and reading a data pad or watching the latest Podrace in his sleep garments. It was this normalcy that she enjoyed the most because it made her fall in love with all of him, even the most annoying parts.

And now it seemed routine to bask in golden hour with him, at least when he was back. They would usually lounge in the veranda, which she rarely ever liked to do in fear of being caught.

Don’t you know?

That you’re my golden hour, the color of my sky

By the gods was he more handsome in this glow! She had turned around in his arms to see his face. His wavy dirty blonde hair sparkled and his face looked more toned, chiseled in this light. Her hand hovered right by his cheekbone, almost scared that it would fade away.

“What?” He smirked, laughing at her inquisitiveness.

“You’re so handsome,” she whispered without hesitation. Padme knew she was beautiful, but she honestly felt so fortunate that her husband was just as beautiful.

“What? Me? Scruffy nerf-herder from Tatooine?”

“Yeah you,” now it was her turn to smirk. “I think you were wrong when you were a boy?”

Anakin’s face scrunched in confusion. “How was I wrong?”

“I think you were wrong about me being an angel. I think you are the one who is an angel”, she smiled.

He bellowed with laughter.

You've set my world on fire

And I know, I know everything's gonna be alright

He grabbed her face and kissed her. “You are making fun of me!”

“Haha never! I’d be much too frightened to tease a strong, powerful, Jedi, General of the war such as yourself.”

Anakin blushed, “Now you’re just throwing back all my immature one-liners back at me.”

The sun was setting in and twilight was emerging. She twisted out of his embrace and turned her head as she was walking back inside, “Well it worked didn’t it.”

I used to get sad

And lonely when the sun went down

Padme wondered if she could pinpoint when she first started to enjoy golden hour. But she couldn’t. She supposed it happened naturally. Prior to being married, Padme would work, work, and work. She would reread and rewrite her policy proposals and speeches and so forth.

She knew she had a reputation of being boring and a prude. Her handmaidens sometimes pushed her to go to galas and ceremonies. She’d go and have such a dreadful time. Occasionally, she’d meet with Bail and Breha but soon enough she became the third-wheel. Now when Anakin was around she’d go with him and when Anakin would sense Obi-Wan was overbearing she’d invite both of them with her.

But it's different now

'Cause I love the light that I've found, in you

Nights stopped being so lonely. Sometimes she’d cook and have a nice romantic dinner. Other times they’d sneak into a diner in the lower levels.

She stole a glance at him. He had thrown his big legs and feet on her lap.

“Are you uncomfortable? I’ll -“

“No! No, you’re fine,” she grabbed his legs before he tried to move them away. He looked at her surprised.

“You’ve done an awful lot of staring today,” Anakin murmured.

Padme huffed, “Can’t I stare at my husband. He’s only here for a limited time you know.”

Now it was Anakin’s turn to huff. “Well knowing you, I’m sure you’ll find some sneaky way to put yourself in the middle of the action with me.”

It was true. She could seldom sit still knowing Anakin would be away for so long and in constant danger.

You make the world look beautiful,

I thought I'd seen it all before

But looking through your eyes

It looks like paradise

Something dawned on Padme at that moment. She understood why golden hour had become so important to her. It was because Golden Hour was him!

Everything of Golden Hour reminded her of Anakin. The sun shining in its biggest splendor, just like him. She had been to many planets, and had experienced many beautiful sceneries, but having Anakin topped even Naboo’s beauty.

Now even Coruscant, became beautiful, because he was here on it with her. Anakin was the color of her sky. Many women would fall through attraction and sure, she was very attracted to him. But Padme unequivocally loved Anakin. Loved his sense of fun and adventure. Loved his bravery and his want to do kindness for those less fortunate. She loved his sense of wanting to learn and even his stubbornness and weak patience. He was the right amount of him, for the right amount of her.

She had thought she was meant for duty and duty alone, but Padme had not been truly alive or as passionate until she met him again as a man.

Considering golden hour didn’t last very long, she would hurry home everyday yearning to see the sun. As the sun set, Padme’s heart yearned for him, wherever he was, but she knew that soon he’d be back and everything would be alright.

You're my golden hour

The color of my sky

You've set my world on fire

And I know, I know everything's gonna be alright

#anidalaweek2020 #anidala #star wars #anakin skywalker #padme amidala

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vikingsagine · 4 years

Text

Ghost (Ivar x Reader)

hecolHere it is, another part to the story. Part 4, yeah. Pretty sure it is. This was hard to write and ultimately not my favorite piece.

Summary: Ivar is in Russ and under the protection of King Oleg and there ghosts come back to life...

Warnings: Fighting, blood.

He had a lot of time to think. Too much time to fall in the bottomless pit of his mind. Ivar had never thought so long or hard, ever. Not like this. He felt regret and a tremendous pang of guilt. He realized how ambitious and driven he was to be the greatest, to be more than he already was, to be a God that looking back was a pain but also a heavy burden.

Staying with the wicked King Oleg opened his eyes. It was like looking at himself, watching the destruction of paranoia take away his humanity. Like a self destructive bomb, ticking away until the last second and killing everything and everyone he had. All the success waiting to be taken with a snap of his fingers.

Ivar let out a deep sigh and heaved his legs over the edge of his bed. Another sleepless night, another nightmare, another regret. Lately, the images of his dead wife and son had haunted his dreams. Along with your shadow. Lurking and tugging strings that he tried to bury for so long. He combed his hair, missing his braids and the feel of your fingers, your body pressed up against him and the relentless hum of your mouth. “You pestering woman.” Ivar growled.

“King Oleg requests your acquaintance.” A man dressed in black fur intruded his chain of thoughts. If Ivar still had his old ‘tendencies’, he would have found a way to humiliate the young guard. But unfortunately, he was not in the position to do so. Ivar complied.

“Ah, Ivar. You are awake. Come, come, join me.” King Oleg welcomed Ivar with a sickening smile. He felt unsettled by his open arms and oddly enthusiastic behaviour, nevertheless he nodded back towards his host and followed suit. There was a table set for a King, piled with food and drinks. He couldn’t deny the hunger in the pit of his stomach and dug in, immediately after Oleg’s short Christian prayer.

“Tell me, is there any news from your brother?” Ivar inquired, sipping from his chalice of ale. He couldn’t deny that the riches and luxury of Russ was far greater than Kattegat, that much he knew. However it lacked the feeling of home. It was empty. It was lonely. It was too dull.

“Yes, he has.” Oleg licked his lips, biting into the leg of a chicken with greedy bites. “But that does not concern you, for now I would like to discuss something else with you.” This perked his ears and he willingly listened to the information his host wanted to share. “It is true that I have heard many, many stories about your rule and your pagan reign. You still wish to return home, to our home, Kattegat yes?”

“Yes and seek vengeance over my brother’s.” The words were like prayers that he seemed to constantly repeat over and over and over again. Kattegat was after all his home, his stomping ground, the foundation of all the joyous memories of the past and the right passed onto him. But, it was stolen and stripped, leaving a once-upon-a-time shadow of greatness. Everything, taken.

“Good, good. I like to hear that. All the more reason for our success, is it not?” King Oleg chuckled to himself and Ivar smiled along with the King, nodding in agreement but also wandering. ‘Where was this heading?’ He thought. “Now, now. I have retrieved a gift for you. But that will arrive later in the night, my men are making the final adjustments before it is worthy for the great Ivar.”

“King Oleg, that is truly unnecessary. I am already thankful for your, uh, hospitality.”

“Don’t be foolish. It is a token of my gratitude. Besides, every warrior needs a weapon, do they not?” Without another word, Oleg clasped his hands together and stood with a jolt of remembrance. Then came to his side, leaning against his body. This unnerved Ivar because it was rather strange for Oleg to be so kind. Ivar knew well enough that the King enjoyed playing with him in cruel ways, it definitely reminded him of ‘God’ Ivar. The tyrant. Here in Russ he was surrounded by strangers and enemies, under the protection of the favor of his biggest foe. He needed something. He needed you. The only one who he still trusted without a doubt. His most loyal and most trusted. But now, you were probably dead because of him. And that, that tugged at those unpleasant emotions. “Now, tell me. Who is this figure, this shadow I have recently discovered through the mouths of my people? It has irked my curiosity.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Ivar gave the King a skeptical gaze. A figure? A shadow?

“You know, the shieldmaiden that stood by your side.” He felt his heartbeat drop and blood run cold at the mention of your being. Ivar was furious but also pained and King Oleg fed on it. Striving from the torture of others and they couldn’t do anything about it because he was in power. He was King. “Uh yes, I have heard tales about her and I wonder why she isn’t by your side anymore.” Ivar clenched the knife in his hands, knuckles turning pale as murderous intent and thoughts whispered inside his mind. The lust and desire to end the man's life. Oh, how his hand itched for his crimson tears that would cry from every part of his shallow and weak skin. Ivar thought of all the possibilities to end King Oleg’s life. Drown him in wine and food. Perhaps break every single bone in his body, one by one, day by day, inch by inch. But with all these lingering notions, Ivar bit back and turned to the man and gave him a hard stare.

“Her name was Y/N and by now, she would be dead. My brother had her killed.” Oleg gave out a disappointed sigh and returned to his prior seat.

“How unfortunate, she could have been an asset to our army.”

“Yes, it is very unfortunate.” Ivar pushed away the venom that stung his heart, this feeling he has oppressed for so many years. He grabbed the deadly thread and hid it among the other strings of his life, his ambition, his reason for vengeance. “Let us drink.” Both their cups clanked and took a heavy skull of the bittersweet of alcohol.

~~~

There he was, once again. Completely bored and forced to listen to the complaints of random and unimportant elderly who were like mud to his shoe. Ivar could tell he wasn’t the only bored one, because his Mother fought the oncoming yawn and gave a meek smile.

“Mother, why do I have to be here?” Ivar whispered to his dearest Mother, who took a short break to ease the stress of the duties of a Queen. Yet, the son beside her caused more headache. Ivar was just as worse as the people, complaining and yearning for something. Something she could give but chose not to.

“You know very well why. One day when you rule over-”

“Yes, you said that before and all the times before that. But don’t kid yourself, I will never be ruler of Kattegat. Not when I’m the youngest and that my brother’s are warriors who are hunting just now, where I ought to be.” His voice grew louder and louder by the second and so did his infectious rage.

“No, it’s not. You aren’t like your brother’s Ivar, you’re special.” Aslaug pressed her hand to her beloved son’s cheek in an attempt to soothe and satisfied his rich behavior of a brat. But he was fed up with the same excuse. Special because he was cripple, nothing more and nothing less. But they were wrong, he was a son of Ragnar Lothbrok.

“Father would have let me go.”

“I am not your Father, Ivar.” Aslaug shook her head, wanting to tell her youngest son that Ragnar had abandoned everyone. Him, his brother’s, her and the people of Kattegat. But bit back and continued to the next issue among the people of Kattegat. Ivar on the other hand, slumped against his seat and folded his arms, utterly bored and wanting some sort of entertainment. Anything.

“Get your filthy fingers off me before I tear them apart with my teeth and mouth. I swear by Odin, my face will be the last thing you’ll see!” The sudden scream of retaliation buzzed through the halls of their home, bouncing off the walls. Ivar glanced to his Mother and then leaned over his chair, curious and intrigued.

“Queen Aslaug, we found this rat stealing food from the markets and she injured some of our men. She claims she is a wanderer’s child.” A tall brute of a man pushed a ragged you onto your knees in front of him and Aslaug. Tied by shackles of chain and had evident blood all over your dirty clothes.

“It is fine.” Aslaug put her hand up to dismiss the guard who took hesitant steps back but still had a firm grip over the long roped metal, tied around your wrists and prevented any movement. “What is your name, child?” Aslaug peered down at your mysterious and feral appearance, it was clear to see life was not pleasant nor was it painted in riches. There was no reply, just a still and vacant sway of your body. Ivar being the prince he was decided to speak up.

“Answer my Mother when she speaks.”

“Ivar.” Aslaug gave him a warning glare and watched you, covered in dirt and grime and blood and smelling of shit. It was a disgusting sight. Truly and utterly disturbing. He had never witnessed or seen a girl to ever be so gross. You snapped your head up and stared with intensity towards him. “Who are you?” Ivar was taken aback by your appearance, your face. It was truly the sight of filth. There was a scar engraved into the side of your profile, stretching in a sickly smile from the corner of your lips and up, up, up to the end of your eye. Your hair wild and untamed like a beast. Blood dripping from the corners of your lips but Ivar realized it wasn’t yours, it was someone else's. Fresh blood too.

“Ivar the boneless.” You said and jumped to your feet, approaching the cripple with a strange shimmer in your eyes. It was a flavor he’s never tasted before. It was deep and meaningful, complete yet questionable. He found himself entranced by your ratchet self, not wanting to tear his eyes away. But it was soon cut up by a tug of metal and a falling of a body.

“That’s enough, undo the chains. She is only a young girl.” Aslaug ordered the man who was hesitant, staring at you with question. Ivar couldn’t take his eyes off of you, something felt different inside. Something felt right and it frustrated him to no end. Soon after, you were released from your shackles and you spat at the guard with a tormenting smile, Aslaug asked once more. “What’s your name?” You completely ignored the woman and instead your attention was focused on Ivar, not wavering nor uncertain. It was him, you thought.

“Blue eyes like fire and ice. Cold like a winter morning, smooth like waves but gentle like water. Burning and raging fire behind, there is the monster that lurks inside, burn, scorch and torch. Blood will be spilt.” With every word, your figure grew closer and closer to the cripple and it frightened Aslaug and those around, but not Ivar. He was hypnotised.

“It’s fine Mother. I don’t think she will hurt me.” Ivar spoke with confidence and watched as you ogled all of his movement. LIke a moth to a flame, you were addicted to the sight of him. His presence. His whole being.

“I would never hurt you. Never and I won’t let anyone hurt you. You are my fate, I am sure of it. Ivar the boneless, my destiny.” This left Ivar awestruck and surprised. He knew not to trust silly words of men, of people but your tone was convincing enough to have him believe. You spoke with confidence and unwavering faith. It was the first time Ivar had been introduced to loyalty, as ugly and disgusting it was. It seemed true and pure.

~~~

He was in trouble and he knew it. The war raged on from all corners of his view, Ivar knew he needed a little more time until Rollo’s troops could attack. More time is all he needed. But as arrows shot and flew through the air, his men dropped one by one like flies. Now with no one left to stand, he realized the mortal danger he was in. Enemies approaching from all sides, men desperately fighting for their lives. He was knocked to the ground, the crutch that stood him up flew away with a shot of an arrow. Ivar rolled to his side and threw a knife, killing an oncoming enemy and grabbed an axe, only to peer fearlessly at the herd of men approaching. Ivar felt no fear, no worry and no doubt. This was not his end and it was true.A viking with long braided hair dropped to the ground, an arrow pierced into his skull. The others desperately threw their bodies to Ivar, yearning for his blood but they were stopped by the same fate, an arrow and death.

Next thing he knew, your figure appeared from above him and leaped into action. Arrows flying, bodies dying and sword slashing. Finally, Ivar thought. He watched in a haze the not-so-graceful dance of your body as you maneuvered around the many enemies. Face filled with that sickly pleasure of the heat of battle, passion and love of a true Viking.

“You’ve gotten fat and slow.” Ivar hummed teasingly and pulled himself up with the help of his crutches. You wiped the smooth blade of blood, chuckling at his warm welcoming after five months of absence.

“And you still need me to save you like always.” Ivar couldn’t help but smile. Genuinely happy to see you. Not that he would admit it, it was finally good having a familiar company that wasn’t his brother and the men he had to deal with. True pawns and a lack of mind. “I see you took my heed and made an alliance with your Uncle.”

“Shut up.” Ivar noticed then the blue uniforms of the french christains, already charging and taking over the battle but still limped alongside your form. He took his time to study your profile. “You look like shit.” He saw the clear bags under your eyes, your skin pale and sickly. But somehow your body seemed, grown. More meat to areas he found quite intriguing.

“And you’re still an asshole.”

~~~

It was late and Ivar was growing tired of King Oleg’s talking, his annoyance growing and his patience running low. He kept blabbering about all the enemies he has taken down, how his return to Kattegat will be great and so forth. Ivar opened his mouth to speak his yearn for absence and sleep but a man, young and short, approached the King.

“Ah, that’s good. Bring it in.” Oleg jumped to his feet and clasped his hands, pure excitement bubbling inside those twisted eyes. The boy quickly dispersed and ran away, leaving Ivar and Oleg alone. The King stood from the table and ordered something to a slave girl. “Now Ivar, I promised I would return my gratitude for your acquaintance and insight over Kattegat. And with your help, I wanted to reward you. Bring it in!” Oleg clapped his hands excitedly whereas the son of Ragnar was perplexed but poked by the undying need of contented satisfaction.

The doors opened, more of the Russ men strolled into the room with their hands firm on their weapons. But instead of a material thing Ivar had expected, not a sharp edge blade or possibly a new pair of legs, it was something living and breathing. His eyes widened in recognition of who and what it was. His gift, his weapon was you. Like a ghost coming back and the dead coming to life. There you were in flesh and blood.

His eyes couldn’t help but drift down the frame of your body. Dressed in the finest silks, so different to the armor you wore constantly. The leather of brown and tight protection that clung to your torso and breasts were replaced by the plush push of blood red with the delicate trace of golden designs. Light and running like vines along her breasts and following down the curve of her shoulders, dipping down the long sleeves of molten maroon. It was a long and delicate dress but also gave you a seductively powerful aroma. It was a teasing dress, working his imagination as he could see the bounce of your breasts, just but not enough to fulfill that curiosity. You were walking slow and steady and enchanted his very being.

When his gaze finally fell upon your face, he noticed how your skin was clean and almost glowing under the candled light. Jewelry made of rich gold hanging from your ears just tickling the nape of your neck. Your hair was tied into a loose braid but had silver jewels shaped into weaponry like flowers and strands framing the small of your face.

You were beautiful, Ivar thought. You were a queen, a goddess, an enchantment.

“King Oleg.” You bowed politely, eyes still staring at the floor. Feeling Ivar’s eyes were intimidatingly scary and it made you uncomfortable. Ivar on the other hand couldn’t quite believe his eyes. You were meant to be dead, killed, not here. Even if you were alive, there was no reason for you to be in Russ. He knew he had betrayed you and left you. There were many reasons why your existence was not supposed to be alive. He had done many things to you, stripped you of your humanity, stolen the virtue between your legs and fed it to animals, he manipulated your dignity for his own gain. And he broke your heart.

“Why didn’t you tell me your shield-maiden is beautiful?” Oleg teased lightly, waiting for a reaction in the Ragnarsson or in you. Neither moved or spoke. “So, do you like my gift? It is quite a miracle isn’t it. You thought she was dead but here she is. Take it as a surprise.” Ivar didn’t know what to do. Seeing you again caused a chain reaction of emotion to bubble inside, bringing back wretched curses of his heart.

After all, he is in love with you.

@soleil-dor @youbloodymadgenius @cececolbert @heavenly1927 @ivarthebloodyking

#vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar x you #x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years

Text

Everything has changed [Sturges/F!SS | Chapter 1]

so i was requested to post this on my blog, and here it is! <3

if you guys enjoyed this chapter, please don’t hesitate to leave a kudos on the actual story on ao3, thank you!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26400847

****

A month had passed by since the Institute's destruction and the Commonwealth was a step closer to finding the closest thing they could find to peace in this chaotic world. The minutemen were finally taking back the Commonwealth piece by piece, bouncing back from the hole they were dug into thanks to a particular person. There was no other way to celebrate such a huge step forward but with a party dedicated to the hero herself.

The usual silent night was filled with an abundance of music, laughter, and chattering that seemed to overlap one another. Sweaty bodies filled the streets of Sanctuary, dancing against one another or simply exchanging a few drinks and words. The bars were filled with people who drank the night away while telling tales that seemed too far fetched to be considered true. It wasn't everyday a party was commenced, so the settlers saw this as an opportunity to lay back and relax with each other, throwing away any thought of danger clouding their minds.

Sturges leaned against the wall, arms crossed as his eyes scanned the settlement with a smile. He wasn't very keen with social gatherings such as these and preferred to shy himself away from the crowd unless a person were to confront him first. Even then, he wasn't really strong with carrying conversations, which could easily make him very boring to many people. Besides, he'd rather spend his night working on some power armor or fixing a wall - well, anything that could keep his hands busy, really. With a soft sigh, he lifted the glass he was holding and brought it to his lips, feeling the whiskey burn as it went down.

As he withdrew from his drink, his ears perked up at the sound of Jun's voice through the wall he was leaning on. Guess it wasn't as soundproof as he thought it'd be. Sturges turned his head towards the opposite direction, hoping that the sound of music would distract him from the conversation between Jun and whoever he spoke to, but found himself mindlessly taking in their words despite his attempts.

"I-I love you. You know that, right?" His voice sounded muffled, but Sturges could make out every word he was saying. He had heard a soft sniffle in response, but heard the familiar voice of Jun's wife, Marcy Long, respond with a raspy, tired voice as if she'd been crying for quite a while.

"I know that you do."

"So why are you crying? Is it cause of me? I-If it was, you can always tell me." He lightly tapped his glass with his finger, hearing the sound of rustling echo throughout the room.

"It's not you, Jun. It's not even sad tears, I'm just-" A sigh left Marcy's mouth, "I'm wondering if Kyle is at peace now. Now that we're safe and growing, I wonder if he's watching us."

Sturges felt a twinge at his heart hearing that statement. It was sorrowful; how they lost their son within moments. He'd never forget the look on their faces the day it happened, the sound of Marcy's screams and Jun's cries for help as their son passed haunted him. Despite Marcy constantly being an ass to every settler, he knew that she was suffering from the loss of her son and this was her way of expressing her grief. He had never spoken an ill word to her despite her attitude and instead, tried to lift the two up from time to time. It worked on some days, but most days, it hadn't. He continued to listen, despite his mind pleading him not to.

"I-I believe he is. I know I've been a mess lately, but everyday gets a little better and I want you to know that we're never alone." Another sniffle.

Before he could catch Marcy's response, a familiar voice jolted him on his two feet, allowing him to stand straight instead of leaning on the wall. "Hey Sturges, I was getting worried you were working on some power armor instead of enjoying yourself."

He slowly turned around, coming face to face with Preston, who smiled and tipped his hat towards him. He smiled awkwardly, tapping the glass with his finger once more. Dang, maybe he really should've just worked on something - his hands yearned for it at this point. With a soft chuckle, he responded. "Nearly gave me a heart attack."

Preston slightly grinned, "Didn't mean to scare you, just thought you'd like some company. You look pretty lonely here."

"Lonely ain't the word that quite fits my mood. Maybe the word 'content' suits it a little better, but I don' mind your company." Preston let a laugh evade his lips before leaning his back on the wall besides him. "Why don't you join the others up there, it's not as bad as you think. Maybe a few drunks here and there, but you should be fine." Sturges leaned near him, staring down at the drink in his hand. "You know I'm not a fella to party. Not much of a talker either."

"I guess I wouldn't want you any other way." Preston took a swig from his bottle, a smile never escaping his lips. "I'm proud. Proud of how far we came. After losing all those people, I never thought I'd move past that." Sturges looked at Preston, who took off his hat. "But we're here now. Never thought I'd see the day. I can't take all the credit, though, Sole was the mastermind behind all this." Sturges let out a hum of agreement.

"Without that little missy of ours, we wouldn't have been standin' here in the first place. We really do owe her one."

"Of course. Big time." Preston let out a sigh, "Without her, I don't think I could've made it. This party isn't enough to repay her for the deeds she's done for us." Sturges' eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for the familiar face being mentioned. Preston made a point - It was her party, so why couldn't he see her around? With a party like this, he'd imagine her usual cheerful self running around and having fun with everyone, but none of that was happening.

"Where is she anyway?" Preston let out a thoughtful hum, tapping his chin in wonder. With a surprised expression, he pushed himself off of the wall, looking around.

"Huh, I guess I don't remember seeing her either. Maybe I'll try asking Hancock or MacCready. They might know." Preston tipped his hat once more at Sturges before turning around to go into the crowd, "I'll catch you around."

He nodded, sending him a small, simple wave. "Yeah, hope you find her." He watched as Preston lost himself in the sea of people and looked down at his feet. Though he tried to perish the thought, he continued to ponder her whereabouts, wondering if something happened. He stood up straight, dusting his coveralls and headed towards the streets of Sanctuary. Maybe a little work on some pre-war tech wouldn't hurt.

Sturges yawned tiredly, reading a manual Sole had given him from her adventures. He was restless and couldn't put a finger as to why he was. It wasn't very often he couldn't catch sleep - it would only ever happen if he was immensely anxious or troubled but he was neither of those things tonight. He rubbed his eyes before shutting his book and laying it on the nightstand near his bed. He stood from his bed, gently throwing his sheets off of him.

Sturges made a mental reminder to fix those once he returned from his walk. Before exiting his room, he grabbed the white shirt hanging on the chair and slipped it on to avoid the chilliness in the air. The party was now over and the only sound that could be heard outside the walls were the crickets chirping.

He quietly crept towards the front door, carefully shutting it behind him to ensure he didn't wake anyone. Even if he did shut it carelessly, they'd probably be too blacked out to be pulled out of slumber. With a relieved sigh, he walked towards the bridge in hopes to clear his mind of anything that clouded it. Unfortunately for him, he was unsure of what it was. As he approached closer to his destination, his eye had caught a familiar figure leaning over the railing, a bottle in their hand. He knew that glow from their wrist from anywhere, its what pulled her apart from others. Well, besides the whole saving the Commonwealth thing, of course.

Sole didn't notice the man creeping out near her and nearly shrieked, pulling the gun on him as she felt a touch on her shoulder. Sturges backed away quickly with a shocked expression, holding both his hands in the air.

"Woah, woah! It's just me, darlin'. Ain't here to hurt ya or anythin', I swear." A look of horror crossed her face as she quickly retreated the gun from his chest. "Oh god, Sturges! Don't do that. I almost pulled the trigger on you!"

He slowly put his hands down, making his way to the free spot near her. "Wouldn't blame ya if ya did." He leaned his back on the railing, watching as sole moved back to her previous position, taking the beer bottle to her lips. The bottle lingered there for a bit, much to his concern.

"Now, now. We both know that stuff won't do anythin' good for ya." His words probably meant nothing to her; she could do whatever the hell she wanted and he knew that. As usual, she replied with the same playful sarcasm she put out for anyone and everyone.

"Sorry, mom." Sturges couldn't help but chuckle. She sent him a smile of her own before staring back at the stream under her that seemed to stretch endlessly. His brow raised in a questioning manner as her smile dropped as fast as it formed. He didn't want to bring it up directly to her, deciding to just beat around the bush to make things a little less suspicious.

"You know, that party wasn't really kickin' without ya. I'm not the only one who's noticed you've been gone." Sole glanced at him for a moment before looking forward once more, taking another sip of her drink. Oh how he wished he could smack that bottle out of her hand. She already looked miserable, that dreading beverage probably wasn't helping her in any way.

"What are you talking about? I was there, in the shadows, watching you," she bantered, hoping that maybe he'd drop the subject, "Better get your eyesight checked, pretty boy." He flushed at the nickname, his eyes widening for a mere second. Sturges wasn't really used to the whole nickname topic and had never personally received one from anyone besides Mama Murphy. Sole giggled at his expression, "If your eyes go any wider, they might fall and roll out."

Sturges snapped back to reality, an embarrassed smile playing on his face. "Oh, uh, right. But I was serious, y'know." Now it was Sole's turn to lean back on the railing; she gave her full attention to the pip-boy that wrapped around her wrist. The light illuminated on her face and he felt his words die as he caught the redness of her eyes. Guess that explained why she hadn't looked at him straight in the eye. Had she been crying?

"I just needed time alone. All that noise was hurting my head." Whatever she was going through, he didn't want to pry into it. It was her business, yet, he couldn't help but wonder what was going on in that mind of hers. His eyes flickered from her to the device that lightened the darkness between them.

"You can always chat with me. I ain't gonna judge ya'." Sole shook her head gently, her eyes never leaving the screen of her beloved device.

"I know you won't judge me, Sturges. I'm fine, really." She lied through her teeth, sucking in a breath to avoid the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. He didn't buy it, not one bit but decided that if she was ready to talk about it, she would. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable, especially with the condition she was in.

"Alright, darlin'. Just know my offer always stands. If ya ever need me, you know where to go." He pushed himself off the railing, fully facing her. "Let me walk ya' home, things can get pretty dangerous during this time. I ain't about to leave you out here in the open, 'specially while you're drinking that stuff."

With a sigh, she nodded, not having the energy to fight back with him. "Good." He said, walking side by side with her towards the direction of her home. By the time Sturges dropped her home, he waved at her as a goodbye and they departed without another word. Once he reached his bed, he felt his body grow heavy with exhaustion. He looked outside his window, looking at the curtains on Sole's bedroom window. Before he knew it, his vision blackened.

#sturges x sole survivor #sturges/sole survivor #fallout fanfiction #fallout+4+companions+reaction #companions react #sturges #fallout companions #preston garvey

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hellevank · 4 years

Text

☆彡 i hate u, i love u

khun aguero agnis x reader songfic

song: “i hate u, i love u” by gnash ft. olivia o’brien

perspective: khun ; reader

reader warnings: angst, mild nsfw (?), some cursing

(a/n): thanks for reading! i don’t see a lot of tower of god fanfics out there, so i’m making some. please understand that i’m new to this platform (but i’ve had this account for a while, just never used it), and i’m trying to adjust. requests are open!

---

Feeling used

But I'm still missing you

And I can't see the end of this

Just wanna feel your kiss

Against my lips

I’m sitting in my room, looking out the window. I touch my lips, missing the tingling sensation whenever Khun and I made out. His silvery blue hair, his cobalt blue eyes, his electrifying touch. I missed the times he would close the gap, kissing me fervently, feeling like all of my problems were solved by one simple sign of affection from the man I hoped to have “forever” with.

And now all this time

Is passing by

But I still can't seem to tell you why

It hurts me every time I see you

Realize how much I need you

Every time I had errands to run, it was always Khun who appointed me to my duties. It didn’t help that Khun and I were in the same apartment complex, along with other students. I still wasn’t able to look him straight into his eyes, not after his scheming. His expressions were unreadable, I was unsure of his thoughts. Was I just this naive?

I hate you, I love you

I hate that I love you

Don't want to but I can't put nobody else above you

I hate you, I love you

I hate that I want you

You want her, you need her

And I'll never be her

After finding out that Khun has only used me to make his crush jealous, I felt heartbroken. Even though everyone was saying that Khun was a total heartthrob and that he jumped from girl to girl after he felt “bored”, I still couldn't ignore the feeling of helplessness and hurt, missing the times he's by my side when no one else was.

I miss you when I can't sleep

Or right after coffee

Or right when I can't eat

I miss you in my front seat

Still got sand in my sweaters

From nights we don't remember

For some time I had to make it believable that (y/n) and I were dating. I moved into her apartment, I pleased her, whispered sweet things, told her that I loved her, all to make Shilial jealous. Why is it that it hurts every time I see her in the complex? Every time I see her talk to a boy? Every time she laughed with her friends, why could I not do those things to her instead? Now that Shilial and I are dating, it felt different. (y/n) was something else. With her, I felt happier, more vibrant.

Do you miss me like I miss you?

Fucked around and got attached to you

Friends can break your heart too

And I'm always tired but never of you

The first time I saw (y/n) was when she walked in the room of our Computer Science class. Her pink hair cascaded down her shoulders and onto her hips. She had a petite frame, but had an authorative aura around her. Shilial and I were still single at this time, so in order to catch her attention I needed someone who equaled her fieriness, and (y/n) was just that. I watched her movements in the classroom, how she spoke to our peers, how she answered our teacher’s questions. She was perfect for my plan. It came together when our teacher assigned a coding project, and she happened to be my partner. She turned around from her seat and studied me. I could never forget those eyes, those reddish-orange eyes. Something about them made me both shiver in fear and admire them. I was stunned, until she smiled and held out her hand, introducing herself. We had found out that we lived in the same building, so we went to catch some coffee at the local cafe. We chatted for who knew how long, and the next thing I knew we were inseparable. More into the friendship and I realized that she and I had fallen for each other. I tried to keep things above the waters, my eyes still on Shilial. I was unsure if this plan with (y/n) was of regret or success, but I long for her.

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn't like that shit

I put this reel out, but you wouldn't bite that shit

I type a text but then I never mind that shit

I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

Every time I see (y/n) in our complex, she avoids my gaze. I tried to talk to her, starting with appointing her with grocery duties, but it was no use. It was even worse when Shilial and I broke up weeks after we started dating. She was stubborn, she wouldn’t look at me in the eye, and it hurts to see her this way.

Oh, oh

Keep it on the low

You're still in love with me but your friends don't know

If you wanted me you would just say so

And if I were you, I would never let me go

I knew the look in her eyes, those of hurt and brokenness. I wanted to hold her so bad, to tell her that it was my fault for letting things go this way. She changed my perspective, she changed me. Everyone saw that, how I was nicer, humbler, and happier when I was “dating” you. But because of my selfishness, I broke her. She was still as smart, beautiful, and kind, but she was a lot more stoic and suppressed herself more, and I couldn’t help but feel angry at myself. It was me who did that, it was my fault. Her friends didn’t, but I knew, deep down, that she still loved me, but why is she not saying anything? Shilial and I had already broken up, she left me for some other guy.

I don't mean no harm

I just miss you on my arm

Wedding bells were just alarms

Caution tape around my heart

(y/n), come back. Let me hug you, kiss you, moan your name for the last time. I will fix this, we will fix this. I hate to see her this way. Please, I know my mistakes. Let me correct them.

You ever wonder what we could have been?

You said you wouldn't and you fucking did

Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix

Now all my drinks and all my feelings are all fucking mixed

I saw (y/n) on the rooftop once, admiring the scenery below her. It was Valentine’s Day, and I could feel the bittersweet resentment. I sat down beside her, gulping my beer as I looked over to her, silently wiping her eyes. Before she got up, I grabbed her wrist to prevent her from leaving. She looked at me, full of hatred, rage, and sadness. I asked if she ever wondered how things would have been like if we were still together. (y/n) spat, telling me she didn’t and that we should forget about it, but her eyes tell me otherwise. She was weeping under the moonlight, missing the moments we had together. The times I held her in my arms, the times I made love with her. She knew, but lied. Why can’t we fix this? Can’t she give me another chance?

Always missing people that I shouldn't be missing

Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance

I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing

But I learned from my dad that it's good to have feelings

I let go of Khun’s grasp, his eyes softened, looking away. He gulped down the last of his bottle, until I turned and exited the rooftop. I shut the door behind me as I entered the room, and started sobbing. I knew that in order to move on, I should stop thinking about the times he made me feel loved, but I couldn’t. I miss it too much, I want to go back into his arms, to apologize to him for snobbing him, for acting so childish instead of fixing this problem we both created. I cried my heart out, remembering what my dad told me when I cried to him about Khun.

“You can’t ignore those feelings. If your heart yearns for him, go for him. Do what your heart tells you to do. Who knows what the outcome will be? What’s important is that you communicate, fix your problems, and let go, if needed. Stay strong, sweetheart.”

When love and trust are gone

I guess this is moving on

Everyone I do right does me wrong

So every lonely night I sing this song

Months have passed since the event on the rooftop. She’s created her distance from me, and I did, too. She looks happier without me, the way she brightens up when she and her friends joke around, or when she’s sighing in content when she figures out how to fix a sequence from her coding. I guess this is her way of saying, “It was nice while it lasted,” though I still can’t help but reminisce of the times we show affection to each other. Is this it? Is this the end of our relationship?

I hate you, I love you

I hate that I love you

Don't want to but I can't put nobody else above you

All alone I watch you watch her

Like she's the only girl you've ever seen

You don't care you never did

You don't give a damn about me

The times I see him watch her boils up anger in me, but of course, it’s not like he cared. It was torture to watch him drool over her, when her red pigtails shimmied its way down her dress. Can’t he see she was using him, just like he used me? But then again, he did use me, so my opinion wouldn’t matter.

Yeah, all alone I watch you watch her

She is the only thing you ever see

How is it you never notice

That you are slowly killing me?

Before Khun and Shilial broke up, I would sometimes catch myself staring at the two. He looked so smitten, heads over heels for her. He knew I was staring, longing for the similar gaze, but ignored me for it. Doesn’t he see how much it hurts? It was killing me, but he wouldn’t care. He got what he wanted.

I hate you, I love you

I hate that I love you

Don't want to but I can't put nobody else above you

Months after Valentine’s, I felt a bit more refreshed. I got my priorities straight, and didn’t waste any more time sulking on Khun. It felt good, for a change. I distanced myself from him, and he did, too. I didn’t bother looking for him anymore. As much as I wanted to hate him, I wanted to thank him for those times. It may not have ended the way I wished for it to, but in the end, I learned a few things from him, and intended to apply those solutions to the next relationship I can get myself into.

I hate you, I love you

I hate that I want you

You want her, you need her

And I'll never be her

If Khun were to ever know my thoughts, I wish him the best. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have matured. I learned a whole lot of things from our “relationship”, and I was glad that he was the man I lost my virginity to, fake relationship or not. We may have had a rocky end, but there’s always a light in the end of the tunnel. So Khun, thank you. Thank you for making me feel loved, thank you for the sweet nothings, for the times you held my hand in the cafe, for that time you hugged me when we saw our grade for our coding project, for those times you imprinted me to let the world know I was yours, for those times you explored every inch of me, knowing where I hit the spot, for making me moan your name, for the small kisses, telling me how perfect I was, for trusting me with your heart, even for a short while. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

---

check out my other works: ↳ ☆:.｡.masterlist.｡.:☆

#tower of god #khun aguero agnis #khun x reader #song fanfic #reader #self insert #sin ui tap #kami no tou #khun #koon aguero agnis #sorry i was feeling angsty #am simping and will continue to simp #alternate universe #tower of god khun #tog #songfic #hqtplnk #hqtplnk's tog fanfics

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amazingmsme · 4 years

Text

Cabin Fever

AN: I had 2 different prompts for a Sam & Bucky fic where Sam cheers him up, & my sad yearning ass stuck in quarantine ran with it! Hope y’all enjoy!

The world has endured many struggles, many challenges, but she will always heal. But in the time it takes to get there, it can be bad and ugly. Bucky had seen more bad than good to be honest. Born near the end of the First World War, he grew up in a post war state. Many people who he should've known had died, and those around him shared that hole. Which is why the 20's were such a breath of fresh air. Everyone wanted to party and live high, but they soared too close to the sun, and the economy crashed.

He spent his adolescent years struggling to live through the depression. It wasn't easy, nor was it pretty, and he went to bed hungry every night. But through all the shit that had been thrown his way, he had Steve. Then, more war. He was afraid and angry with what was happening, and knew something had to be done. He made some amazing friends during that time, and lost a good few. That was when he and Steve became frozen in time, the latter quite literally so.

He doesn't remember too much from his time spent as Hydra's murdering puppet. It's all flashes of pain, fear, and screams. A hand on a throat, feeling as the windpipe gave way. A finger on a trigger from a distance. A knife plunged deep into a chest. It was all him, and yet, it wasn't. It was as though he was in an empty theater strapped to a chair, being forced to watch this horrific movie play out before his own eyes. For the longest time, he had no control. He wasn't an active part of his life. And then he broke free. He managed to escape, and was wanted for his crimes. He even managed to split up the avengers, the guilt overwhelming him. If he had just stayed low, none of that would've happened.

And then those weird fucking monster things came down from space, yearning for blood and ready to destroy anything in their path. They fought good and hard, and he honestly thought they would win. The next thing he knows, he missed out on another four years of life that he won't be able to get back. His best friend in the world was now an old man, getting to live the life he had missed out on. He wasn't going to lie, that hurt. A lot.

But scattered amongst the wreckage of his life, glimpses of light shone through. His mother's warm embrace and gentle hum. Steve's bright smile and even brighter laugh. He and Natasha connected on another level that you couldn't even dream. T'Challa was understanding and a good friend to him while he was staying in Wakanda. Shuri was an actual saint, giving him a new arm and offering friendship in a dark and lonely time. He and Sam became reluctant friends, then took a shine to each other. Their sense of humor is one in the same, and they share the same taste on a lot of things. He was kind, funny, witty, compassionate, strong, the list could go on forever. And he was falling hook line and sinker. Utterly and completely head over heels.

Then just when he believed things might be looking up, the whole world shuts down. He remembers from what his mom said, there had been a pandemic in 1920. The Spanish Flu, if he remembered correctly. And now, exactly 100 years later, another pandemic rose from the ashes like the most hideous phoenix. Just when he was finally able to go out and try to live a normal life, another obstacle drops in his path. He had a whole list of things he wanted to do and places to see, and now he doesn't get to do any of that. Trapped within four walls and slowly going crazy.

He had every right to be mad. Nothing, it seems, would ever work out in his favor. And to top it all off, he was stuck with the man he wanted to kiss so badly but couldn't for fear of ruining what they had. He wanted to rip his fucking hair out.

Sam, god bless him, tried his best to keep him in good spirits. When news of covid-19 first spread, he had said, "There's still plenty of things we can do inside! I have Steve's old list of things he needed to catch up on, and I know you haven't heard of any of this stuff either, so we get to start from the top!" He excitedly pulled out the notepad, a few items down the list having been crossed off. "And the best part is, I keep remembering things I forgot to add, so we won't run out."

"Yippy," Bucky said in a flat tone. Sam nudged him with his elbow.

"Hey, there's some good stuff on here! There's tv shows, movies, and some of the greatest songs and bands of all time. You ever heard of Queen?"

"Who?"

"Oh my god you need my help," Sam said playfully, running a hand down his face. Bucky's lips quirked up ever so slightly.

At first he was okay. The constant influx of content kept him busy and his mind occupied. But he soon fell into a rut. Pacing the floor, he'd listen to his favorite songs Sam had shown him along with some new ones. Stare out the windows feeling empty, longing for society to pick up again. After watching a movie or two, he'd get fidgety and need to move about. He really enjoyed binging shows though. They sucked him into their world and wouldn't let go. Maybe because it was so different than what he had growing up. Thankfully they both knew to stay away from anything war themed or that might trigger his PTSD. But he'll be damned if he hadn't been completely obsessed with Breaking Bad.

But there were so many options, so many shows to watch that it was overwhelming. With so many things to pick, how could he choose? And out of the movies and shows, and the genres within those categories, it was simply impossible. And so he would cycle through in search of something to watch, only to come up empty handed. Things got better when he stopped trying to decide and let Sam pick for him. Sam really knew what's best.

God if he wasn't here, Bucky would actually go insane. He catches himself staring at the man even more now. Glancing out of the corner of his eye or full on staring, he just can't stop looking at him. He liked to keep his hair cut short, shaved down close to his head. His facial hair was neatly trimmed, the lines always smooth and precise and framed his mouth perfectly. His smile was so fucking bright it was almost blinding. That smile made his days better, and he tried to be less of an ass, just to see it more often. And his lips were full and soft, and he wanted so badly to be able to kiss them. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of dark chocolate, and you could get lost in them if you weren't careful. You could find yourself falling into them, deeper and deeper with no way out. Back when they were first shut in together, he remembers Sam playing the song Brown Eyed Girl. They had smiled as they listened to it, then slowly, began to dance along. That was when he knew he preferred himself a brown eyed man instead.

They were supposed to be watching some old scary movie that Sam claimed to be a classic. Had even said it was one of the most popular ones of all time, but he thought it was just plain boring and ended up watching the man beside him more than the screen. I mean, what was thrilling about a man in a hockey mask hiding in the bushes trying to kill teens? To him it was just lame, and no amount of fake blood could change that. Sam, as always, picked up on his mood.

"What, you don't like it?" Sam asked. Bucky jumped at his words and tore his eyes away from him, looking back at the movie.

"I never said that."

Sam shrugged, "Well you seem to be watching me more than the show." Bucky's face lit up a slight pink and his eyes widened slightly, not realizing he'd been caught so easily. Sam chuckled and bumped their shoulders together. "It's okay, I don't mind," he said to help ease his conscience. "But we can watch something else if you don't like it. Or we can do something else, I don't mind."

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah I'm not really into this," he admitted.

"Alright, no problem," Sam said. "You want me to pick, or do you want to choose something?" Bucky snorted, crossing his arms.

"Seeing as you picked this shitter, maybe I should be the one to pick the next one," he teased, snatching the remote. "What was that one Disney movie you told me about? The one where dogs eat spaghetti?"

"Oh so suddenly my choices in movies are good again."

"Just shut up and tell me what it's called."

"Well I can't do both," Sam joked. Bucky's mouth hung open in a shocked smile that he tried to mask as offense.

"Just tell me the name smart ass," he demanded. Sam was fighting back his snickers as he answered, "Dogs eat spaghetti."

"Dude I know that's not it!" he cried out.

"Yeah but you don't know what it's actually called!" he laughed, having fun withholding the information.

Bucky didn't mention that he just remembered the name of the movie. Instead he steadied him with a look. "Tell me, or else," he said with a playful growl.

Sam wasn't deterred in the slightest. He puffed out his chest as he said, "Make me."

Bucky grinned, wide with a hint of evil. "Oh I plan to." And then he pounced, pinning Sam down on the couch. He immediately started squirming as soon as fingers collided with his sides. His laughter soon followed. Bucky was completely entranced.

Sam threw his head back, allowing the laughter to flow freely from his mouth. He brought his knees up to his chest in a ball as he rocked from side to side, occasionally batting Bucky's hands away. "Dahahahamnit Bahaharns!"

"You know what you have to do to make it stop," he taunted. His hands journeyed up to dig into his armpits, making his laughter jump higher.

"SHIT NO NOT THERE!" he shouted, feeling his fingers scratch at the hollows. He squeezed his eyes shut as he cackled, completely unable to make the sensations stop. Bucky had a devious idea and bent down, blowing a wet raspberry against his neck. Sam squealed before dissolving into hysterical giggles.

"Nohohoho okay! Ohohokahay, I give! Ihi'll tehehell you!" Bucky continued the tickling for a second longer before backing off to let him breathe. Sam gasped in some much needed air. "Lady and the Tramp," he admitted. "It's Lady and the Tramp."

Bucky's smirk got even wider. "I know." Sam's eyes flew open and he glared at the other man. "What?"

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, "I remembered."

"Oh you little shit!" Sam cried, smacking his arm, making him laugh. "Now it's your turn!" Bucky stopped laughing, feeling butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach.

"Huh?" As soon as the question left his lips he felt Sam's body collide with his own as he was tackled. He held his arms in front of him to shield himself, giddy giggles already bubbling up in his throat.

"You didn't think I'd let you just get away with that," Sam teased, leaning closer. Bucky subconsciously scrunched his neck.

"Actually I kinda did."

Sam smiled, hovering his hands over his stomach with wiggling fingers. "Then you deserve everything you're gonna get."

"Nohohohooo," he whined, knowing exactly what was to come. Sam made sure to keep his fingers a few inches above his stomach to keep him on edge. When he finally descended, he clawed into the muscle and vibrated his hands into the flesh. Bucky tried to hold his laughter back, he really did. But as soon as he saw the twinkle in his eyes and the goofy smile, he couldn't help the giggles that slipped out.

"Wow, you're more ticklish than you look," Sam commented. Bucky's face scrunched in confusion and embarrassment.

"Thahahank you?" It came out more as a question than a statement, and Sam had to fight the physical urge to aawww.

He moved on to his sides, squeezing up and down. His laugh became a deeper, more full sound. He grabbed onto Sam's wrists, but didn't bother pushing away. Instead it felt as though he was pulling him closer... He decided to make a mental note of that for later use.

He decided to drill his thumbs into his hips, making him buck and thrash wildly. Sam chuckled, "Is this how you got your nickname? 'Cause you buck like a wild bronco when tickled?" Bucky's cheeks grew darker at the question.

"Fuhuhuck you!" Sam gasped, never pausing in his work.

"How rude! And here I was just trying to strike up a friendly conversation!" He scratched along his waistline, drawing out mad cackles that left Bucky breathless. Sam was having the time of his life. "Who knew you could make so many sounds," he teased.

Bucky shook his head back and forth. "Juhuhust shuhut up!" Sam cocked his head to the side in a quizzical manner.

"Why? Does it make it worse?" When he didn't answer and only whined in response, Sam grinned wider. "I'll take that as a yes."

"You're sohoho mehehean!" he called out, unable to fight back, not that he really wanted to.

"Yeah? And you're cute when you blush," Sam barely realized he had even said it. It just slipped out and couldn't be taken back. Luckily the only affect his words had was darkening the already red blush. Bucky threw a hand up to hide his face as he giggled through his fingers.

"Nu uh, no hiding," Sam said, tickling under his arm and bringing it crashing down. His other hand trailed farther down, squeezing his thighs. Bucky actually screamed, his laughter hitting a whole new range. Encouraged by the new reactions, Sam brought his other hand lower. Bucky snorted when he squeezed the side of his leg, close to his knees. Sam raised his brows, an evil grin plastered on his face.

"Oh, is this a bad spot?" He skittered his fingers over his thighs, the thin sweatpants doing nothing to protect him. His eyes were squinted shut and his mouth hung open as loud laughter poured free. Sam moves to scratch the backs of Bucky's knees, making him snort once more.

"Nononono plehehehease!" Bucky pleaded.

"I'll take that as a yes," Sam chuckled. He raked his nails down the back of his knees, and Bucky practically screamed. He slammed his knees to his chest, which subsequently pushed Sam forward as well. He lost his balance and lurched towards him, catching himself by bracing his fall with his hands on each side of Bucky's head. They both froze, staring into each other's eyes. Bucky's laughter started to die down, his eyes glistening with unshed mirthful tears.

"You okay?" Sam asked, wanting to make sure he didn't go too far. Bucky nodded.

"Yeah, I'm good." Sam hadn't seen him smile like this in months, and it warmed his heart. "I, I needed that," he admitted. Sam smiled softly, the expression on his face could only be described as pure adoration.

"I'm glad to hear that." There was a beat where it was silent. And again, without thinking, Sam acted. He found himself leaning down and couldn't stop. It was as though time itself had slowed. And then in a rush, Bucky sat up and locked their lips together. They kissed for a moment before Bucky pulled away, still catching his breath.

"Still wanna watch that movie?"

Sam nodded and they cuddled next to each other on the couch. Bucky had an arm around his shoulders as Sam rested his head on his chest. The movie started. And if Sam was drawing lazy, tickly shapes into his side, Bucky didn't complain. Only would huff out a laugh every once in a while, squirming into the touch.

The earth may not be in a good place right now, but she will heal. Bucky was sure of it.

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #avengers #quarantine fic #avengers fic #avengers tickle fic #winterfalcon #winterfalcon fic #ticklish!sam #ticklish!bucky

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