#he admits that he's been where she is and that in itself takes guts but he literally lets her hold the knife to his throat

[yanderes-galore]

Darling escaped Wesker and is hiding from him, being constantly paranoid and all. She takes a hike and gets captured by the Las Plagas cult but before they can do anything Wesker arrives (because he was conveniently around, watching Ada). How would the reunion be like? - 🐈 anon

I was confused at first but found out you meant the Separate Ways DLC. Here you go! Did a concept as not specified.

Edit: I only just saw this was meant to be a female darling I'm so sorry, but I hope you like it despite my mistake- 💀 The only gender related thing is in one thing Wesker said anyways-

Yandere! Wesker "saving" Kidnapped! Darling

(RE4: Separate Ways)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Stalking, Violence, Thoughts of murder mentioned, Forced relationship.

The whole scenario just sounds unfortunate for you.

From one bad situation to another.

Then potentially back to the first one.

Escaping Wesker is a feat within itself.

He usually always has an eye on you although he isn't as deadly as he is in RE5.

He may even be impressed that you managed to slip by, if not annoyed.

Not only is escaping a feat but hiding from him is also an achievement.

So to stay away from Wesker's sight you hide in the woods.

For awhile you learn to survive.

You take hikes to stay in shape and find food as you go.

You yearn for your old life... the one before Wesker.

Hikes have been the only way you were able to cope.

At least... that was until you encountered Los Illuminados.

The reason for taking you in could be for any number of things.

However the most likely reason would be for experimentation.

Injecting people with Las Plagas makes the cult grow.

It just so happens you were a vulnerable target.

They most likely had no idea who you were (unwillingly) connected to.

As a result you are chased and dragged to a cell for later use.

Around this time Wesker would've sent Ada to look for the amber he needs for his virus.

He may have even asked her to find you if she was able to.

Wesker is no doubt searching for you ever since you managed to leave his gaze.

He'll admit it's felt... odd to not have you around.

He doesn't like the feeling of being unable to hold you, feel your warmth, or breathe your scent.

As a result he's been on edge.

Not only must he make his virus but he also needs to have you by his side again.

Imagine his surprise (and anger) when he sees footage of you being carried away through Ada's lenses.

Wesker knows if they hurt you he's going to gut them all.

Plans have changed. He orders Ada to keep an eye on you while looking for the amber.

He's finally found you again... and he plans on retrieving you along with the amber.

As a result you end up meeting Ada.

You have no idea she's working with Wesker or why she's here.

All you know is once she sneaks into the prison and stands in front of your cell, you're saved.

Wesker most likely didn't say why you were so important.

He doesn't need Ada to know your past.

You and him have had history, romantic history in his eyes, and he'd just about blow up this entire island to have you.

If Wesker really can see footage through Ada's cameras then he watches the screen intently.

You look so dirty, malnourished, and unkempt.

He can fix that once you're back in his arms.

He wonders as he watches you if he should be punished.

However, the fact you were kidnapped by the cult seems punishment enough.

It only proves the reason he took you in to begin with.

You're weak without him... you need him in order to be stronger.

Surely you'll learn such a lesson by the time he comes to pick you up.

The moment Wesker comes onto the island, he calls Ada and demands she brings you to him.

Until then he watches the island to catch sight of you.

He's been patient with you... but you have to come back with him now.

Right where you belong.

It's a sad sight to see.

You trusted Ada to save your life, what does she do in return?

She brings you right back to Wesker.

The moment your eyes land on the blonde haired man, you try to go the other way.

You shake your head but Ada nudges you in front of her.

"You've managed to retrieve them, but what of the amber?" Wesker asks Ada before beckoning you closer.

There's silence between you as Ada explains she still needs to find the item.

You feel betrayed as Wesker sends her away before turning to you.

"I applaud you for making it this long. But you must know you weren't going to last long."

You're roughly dragged into Wesker's chest as he checks you over.

He's checking for scratches and signs of any parasite you could've been infected with.

If you were hurt his mind is set.

"For now... you're punished enough." Wesker tells you, but he doesn't let go. "But I'm not done here."

"You're going to take me back..." You whisper, defeated.

"This is only proof that you can't survive without me. You got yourself captured by someone else." Wesker frowns, annoyed.

"They won't leave this place alive. None of them will."

You stay silent, feeling Wesker stroke your head before kissing the top of it.

He hasn't been able to feel you in so long.

He feels you struggle a bit but he doesn't care.

All that matter is he has you again.

He'll make sure you're brought back onto his boat and watched.

You're coming back with him.

Meanwhile, he'll make sure there's nothing left of the cult that took you after he's obtained the amber.

#yandere resident evil #yandere resident evil 4 #yandere albert wesker

[isawken]

disco elysium and transmasculinity:

i don't want to be this kind of animal anymore

there is no such thing as an inherently masculine trait, only those which we have culturally prescribed to be masculine. muscular, tall, strong, stoic. self-destructive. repressive. angry. unhinged. violent. addictive.

Disco Elysium markets itself with the tagline “what kind of cop are you?”. to put it bluntly: you get to choose what man you want to be. the actual gameplay mechanic is the game keeps track of your dialogue choices and, among other RPG things, neatly divvies them up into 4 main Cop Categories: Sorry Cop, Apocalypse Cop, Superstar Cop, Boring Cop. after some time establishing your identity you can branch off into 3 other copotypes: honor cop, art cop, and hobocop. These are all exactly what you think they would be.

a supremacist stands tall, immovable, shirtless, tattooed, in the way of one of your objectives, and if you let him he will tell you all the ways your body betrays your degeneracy. all the indulgences you make, with drugs and alcohol and sex, are allegedly clear as day written across your reddened swollen face. you are not a man. you are pathetic. a pair of women reassure his divine masculinity even when he admits his impotence. there’s no denying it: that’s one man of a man right there.

your former detective partner is an eternally scowling pockmark faced asshole. he approaches every interaction with you with a nice solid baseline of aggression. if you choose to put your points into something called “espirit de corps”, you get small vignettes of his previous actions. in one of them, it’s joked that you two are near-marital in your relationship. in some of them, he worries about you. muttering under his breath, mostly to himself, not unkindly. but he certainly never shows that to you face to face. 

two old men play pétanque outside every day by the sea. they have done this for years. they have known each other since they were kids. one is a fascist, the other a democratic socialst. if you’re nosy, you can go to the watchman’s post and find a picture of him, his socialist buddy, and a young woman whose attentions they supposedly both vied for. if you decide to become a fascist, the game gives you something more. your abilities Pain Threshold, Composure, Endurance, Volition, Conceptualization, and Inland Empire take turns showing you tiny slices of a truth viciously stamped beneath the heel of his brilliant boot. a love for his dear hated socialist. and when he dies, that socialist tells you the same. but they never told each other. never even came close. because how could you?

harry dubois wakes up face down ass up covered in piss and vomit and full of foggy confusion after drinking himself into amnesia. he's tall, he's got giant arms, a proud beer gut, and he's self-destructed himself into literal oblivion. this pitiful bastard doesn't even remember his own name. the first person he encounters outside of the hotel room in which he fucked himself up beyond his limbic system’s reach tells him at some point during his bingeful weekend she heard him scream, "i dont want to be this kind of animal anymore". you don’t know why you said this. but after a while you have some pretty good guesses.

i could talk forever about the unique circumstances of growing up as a girl in modern western society. but i have nothing interesting to say that hasn't already been said much more eloquently. learning to hate my body, learning to be afraid, learning that you need to want to be consumed. the eternal unpacking of all the issues a patriarchal society burdens you with. it never ends. but i've at least reached a point where i've done my base legwork. i know the oppression i've fought. it is nameable. i have labeled each and every patriarchal burden like a so many papers in a filing cabinet. few are going in the shredder, but at least they're known. next to that filing cabinet, i have a big pile of loose papers slowly sliding off a desk with the word "masculinity" in neon lights flickering above them. i want to dive into those papers. but the thought of it fills me with such apprehension. i've always wanted masculinity. i've purposefully adopted affectations to make myself more stereotypically masculine. most are hilariously shallow, and not exactly innovative. i smoked camels for 8 years. i drink my coffee black. i picked up a nice little alcohol habit. i've shoved down more feelings than i would ever willingly admit in the hopes to appear unbothered. I’ve told myself to “man the fuck up” my fair share of times. none of it got rid of my hips or my tits or my anxiety or my painfully high pitched voice. i’ve quit smoking. i sometimes think i should start again for many reasons, but one is in the hope that my voice will drop. just one octave. at least. it’s silly, i know. believe me. i know.

when harry drags his sorry ass out of that hotel room, he isn't free of his past. he has shadows in his mind reminding him of the things he's forgotten. shadows that still influence his views of masculinity. there is no way to truly escape the bitter leaden paint stuck to the inside of your mind so violently applied by our beloved patriarchal society. there is a hilarious dialogue option where, if you so choose, you can proclaim that you would never let anyone androgynous touch your hair. because the “others” (unnamed) would laugh at you. here we have a man who cant remember his own name, but he is certain that he absolutely cannot under any circumstances have a non-manly haircut for fear of mockery and rejection by his peers. how many coats of that leadened paint must have adhered to his poor, poor limbic system that even when he’s forgotten the concept of money, he still knows about the boundaries of masculinity.

 as harry tries to be a good person (or a fascist or a doom prophet or a disco superstar) he cannot really shake the pieces of himself that make him him. and he meets another bastion of masculinity, kim kitsuragi immeasurably measured, willful, and kind (for a cop), he helps you rediscover the world around you as you try to rewrite your tabula rasa'd self. he is firm, but nice. he lets you make your choices and mistakes. and he only stops supporting you when you start fucking up like, literally everything, and indulging in racism. naturally, there is a lot of fanart of them kissing, and yearning. both are beacons of masculinity, different sides of the same coin. where harry is physically imposing, kim is slight. where kim is calm cool and collected, harry will break down crying after a brief conversation with his necktie. but both are undeniably masculine. i mean, they’re cops after all. what more masculine profession is there?

as kind as kim is to you in your lowest possible state, it can be easy to overlook the ways in which he is not kind. when you tell him you think you really, seriously, need to go to the hospital, seriously kim i can't even remember my name i think i could have brain damage, kim responds with the equivalent of "walk it off" by encouraging you to start working on the case and see if that makes you feel better instead. it is in this light that you recognize which affectations of his are conscious posturing. his fitted jacket and trousers, matching the uniforms worn by air brigades in a past war. his careful collection of tools he keeps in his beloved kineema. his vast knowledge and care for the car itself. looked at in a certain different light- you know the one- you could see these traits being the result of a very careful construction. he found pieces of overt masculinity and decided to subsume them as a defense. a bolstering, a reinforcement of chosen masculinity.

there are so many different flavors of masculinity that the game offers you to experience and explore yourself. you decide whether to value them. you can follow in mister phenology’s footsteps and try to build yourself into a supremacist ideal. maybe that will make you happy. you can also chase after a barely-coded homosexual man, who makes you stutter in most available dialogue options. even if that may make you happy, you don’t get to pursue it. you can think for 20 hours about the "homosexual underground", but you can't join it yourself. you can however join fascism. interesting how harry is more susceptible to fascism than homosexuality. interesting to prod and poke at his masculine limits.

“what kind of cop are you” is a loaded question. harry is rebuilding himself from the ground up as a man. and how funny is it to learn that is inextricable from his profession.

what do you find inextricable from your gender? what of those traits make you happy? what of those traits make you want to throw your fucking shoe through a god damn window and punch the bathroom mirror and scream and scream and scream and scream?

i want to emerge from a hotel room, at my lowest point, and have the power to rebuild myself from scratch. i want a cool man who i maybe want to kiss guide me with a gentle yet firm hand. i want to have large arms, and a proud beer gut, and a stupid beard, and i want to destroy a hotel room and drink myself into a beautifully tragic state. i want to have non-political body hair. i want to get stared at for my gaudy tie and green snakeskin shoes instead of my tits. i want become a different kind of animal.

#this is very long and rambly and filled with half-finished thoughts #i will maybe one day come back to it and finish those thoughts #but i just wanted to put this out there. slide into my inbox if you also have transmasc feelings about disco elysium. i want to hear you #disco elysium #transmasc #transmasculinity #transgender

[enidsinclairaddamsthesecond]

Could you please do a Mattheo Riddle angst to fluff? Basically f!reader gets jealous because a girl has been flirting with Mattheo but he’s oblivious. Reader gets angry but stays silent, giving Mattheo the silent treatmenr. He finally has enough and blows up at reader and ends up saying something like “All this because of you and your trust issues.” Reader gets upset at that because she has a hard time trusting people, she walks out but later on Mattheo turns up at her dorm and can’t sleep. He’s really tired and he apologises properly, then they just end up cuddling but could you include details? Like reader rubbing his back, massaging his scalp, him lying on her chest.

A/N- absolutely! Congratulations for being the first to ask me! Is it okay if it is inspired from a song? And if it does not match your exact description, my apologies.

Inspired Song: "Gangsta" by Kehlani.

A Gangsta Love (requested)

Summary: You have been avoiding Mattheo for awhile. He's too ingenuous to realize whats and who's there in his surroundings! You have been friends for more than seven years now, and just recently you got the guts to confess your love to him. In fact he told you that he loved you back, but did he keep his words? No, plus he allowed himself to be flirted by some random girl(s).

Warnings: Cussing, f!reader, jealous!reader, typical Mattheo, angst to fluff, a little spicy at the end, mentions of blood and violence. (but not in detail)

Mattheo was resting his head over the couch and was studying; The History Of Magic, out of no choice as exams were approaching. The common room was silent and all his friends were out playing/ seeing the sunset. He cussed himself for not studying the previous week itself. You and your friend entered the common room laughing and giggling. "Yeah sure y/n!" Your friend laughs at you, teasing her, for her ex-crush. "I got detention though, I had to be there with professor Snape at five, its 4.50 now! I better go there before he gives me another one!" She says to you. "Enjoy!" you laugh as she rushes out of the common room. All this girl-chattering made Mattheo turn at your direction, He noticed you and waved at you. But you simple rolled your eyes and ran into the girls dormitory. You went into your room and closed the door behind. "jerk" you mumble.

Your pov I sat down on my bed and opened the 'The history of magic' textbook to learn for the final exams that were approaching. But I couldnt focus as my mind drifted back to the days where me and Mattheo were 'friends'. When this friendship turned into love. It destroyed everything. Its true when they say that; if you turn your friendship into relationship; you will lose both. I shuddered as someone knocked the door; "come in!" I say, hoping it to be y/f/n. Instead a familiar dark brown eyes greeted me. "Mattheo?!" I say half surprised, but deep in my mind,i recalled the moment when I saw him with, two girls, who were flirting with him; the moment where he simply smiled back at them instead of stopping them. "Y/N!" he smiled at me, but i did not return it. "Its been days since we last talked- isnt it?" saying so he came and sat beside me to which I reluctantly allowed, as i didnt want him to think that i am acting differently. "Is everything alright?" he asks. I simply nod and pretend to study, trying to ignore him.

After awhile, of him staring at me. "y/n please! I cant stand this anymore! Your ignoring me, glaring at me, and completely act like i do not exsist! Atleast tell me what i did! Did i do something wrong?" he asks politely, but i could feel his patience was running out. He takes his plam and caressed my cheek using his thumb, it felt heavenly - his soft touch and gentle caress. I got to admit I missed it for awhile. But i refused to fall for it this time. I jerked my head away from him, and scoffed. "why are you scoffing at me?" his tone increased, but he tried his best to stay calm. "Dont pretend you dont know why Matt!" I say keeping my voice low. "WHY? I dont know! just tell me for gods sake y/n!" he shouts. "You fucking allowed yourself to- to…" I try to say when my voice started to crack, betraying me. "I fucking WHAT?" he asked his voice raising a little. "Remember last friday?" "the party?" he said after a thought. "yes! In the party, do you remember two girls were flirting with you?" He raised a brow, and nodded. "Oh you mean Sarah and July?" "whoever! they FLIRTED with you, thats the point! Do I have to spell that out?" I shout. "Flirted? NO!-" "Dont lie Mattheo! I saw everything!" I snap at him which only made him more angry. "DONT JUMP INTO CONCLUSIONS Y/N! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED THERE-" "I saw with my own damn eyes Mattheo! The way she was touching you- THATS JUST DISGUSTING! The worst part is- YOU ALLOWED HER TO DO THAT!" saying so I turned away from his glare. I noticed his cheeks were red and it was quite clear that he is getting furious. "Y/N" he tried to pull me closer to him but I dodged his hand. "NO! DONT! I just confessed to you a week ago and you said Y-E-S didnt you? You said you like me back! BUT YOU ALREADY PROVED THAT YOU WONT KEEP OUR RELATIONSHIP STRONG!" I scoffed, "Maybe you just said that for a show- maybe you didn't want to hurt me- so you said that you liked me back for some sake!" "I DON'T LIKE YOU Y/N-" he says. "I LOVE YOU! I always did! Maybe I didn't have time to tell you but I always have!" his voice becomes low. "DON'T LEAD ME ON!" "LEAD YOU? Your joking right? I ACTUALLY MEANT IT!" he shouted, blood rushed into his cheeks, fury filled him instantly. "ALRIGHT! SO WHAT ABOUT THE FLIRTING HUH?" I fold my arms and glare at him. "you ALLOWED yourself to get flirted but two girls who sure looks prettier than me! That gives it away!" "Flirting? GOD Y/N! That wasn't what it seems to be-" "Flirting or not, you were too close to them, too close to be just friends or classmates or whatever excuses you may give!" " THIS IS ALL BECAUSE YOU AND YOUR TRUST ISSUES! I ALWAYS LIKED YOU Y/N, I JUST CANT IMAGINE WHAT MY CHILDHOOD WOULD HAVE BEEN IF YOU HADN'T BEEN THERE WITH ME! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! BUT STILL YOU THINK I MAY CHEAT ON YOU! I CANT BELIEVE IT!" he slams fist on my desk that shattered, the very next moment his hands met it. I gasp and cover my mouth horrified to see a glass piece that was piercing his palm. Blood trickled out of his wound threatening to fall on the ground, but he was resilient. He pulled the glass piece out of his palm, "EPISKEY!" He cried, and the magic healed the wound immediately. He sighed and looked at me. I could feel his fury still burning slightly inside his eyes. At this moment I drowned in guilt. was I too harsh? I thought. "Mattheo-" I try to say, but he silenced me by turning away and walked out of the door.

I fell on my bed and squeezed the tears that were forming in my eyes. The salt of my tear was burning my skin as it flowed down my cheeks. It felt like an invisible hand was choking my neck. And I felt difficult to breath. More hot tears flowed down from my eyes making my vision blurry. 'I'm sorry Matt! Im sorry' I whined through my cries. All I wanted now was him. I wanted to say sorry. I wanted him to forgive me for my outburst. I wanted him. I realized, I needed him. And I felt very bad for throwing all my anger at him. I was jealous. I admit. He didnt deserve this. I cried louder but I managed to muffle it by covering my face with the pillow.

The door opened with a loud BAM! But I didnt raise my head to see who it was. An arm pulled me into a hug; I shuddered and tried to pull away, but then realized it was Mattheo. I gave in and let him pull me closer. "shh shh- Im sorry y/n! I'm sorry! I got into something-" I still cried and tried to process his words. He pulled me closer, and made me sit over his lap as he laid back over the bed's headboard. He rubbed my back soothing me. I cried over his chest making his shirt a little wet. "I should be the one to say sorry Matt" I say after awhile. "I-Im so sorry for getting angry over you, I'm sorry for ignoring you… y-you did not deserve it." I say hugging him tightly. "shhh its alright" he soothed me and started to hum a chord. "I love you too Matt, in fact I love you more" i say holding onto his waist. "I got to admit, maybe i was a little jealous… but i promise i'll try not to be like that!" He chuckles a little and rubs the nape of my neck. "Its okay y/n… a relationship has its ups and downs… don't change yourself for that… I like you for who you are, I love my jealous y/n" he says. I smile at his sweet words, it was calming. I look up at him smiling, he smiled back and kissed my temple. "by the way" he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my skin. "I love you the MOST! Do i have to spell that out for you?" He asks playfully. I laugh at his attempt to mock me. "Lets not fight over this now" I giggle making him smile. He kisses my temple and trailed the kisses down my jawline. I smiled and caressed his cheek, my thumb moving in circles. "What kind of love is this Matt?" I ask. "hmm…" he thought "lets call it; A Gangsta Love" "A gangsta love?" I repeat confused, as I expected him to say something like, forever, romantic, or gorgeous kind of love. "Why?" I question. "Because," he paused looking down at me, "because we are just so crazy for each other". He kissed my cheek, got up and slid over me. Now I was lying in my bed over my back and he was pinning my arms down and smirking playfully. Changing our positions. "Let me worship you y/n," he placed a soft kiss in my jawline, his fingertips massaging the nape of my neck and the other hand pinned me down over my bed. "I'll show you what gangstas do…"

A/N- Im sorry anon, for the very late update! Thanks for your patience!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments!

#mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #lovestory #mattheo imagines #mattheo x reader #mattheo x you #theodore nott x y/n #upon request #fanfic #hogwarts au

[binkszamsstuff]

Cindy Lou who

I know it’s past Christmas but life got in the way of me editing this fic so pretend it’s Christmas Day still okay? Sorry 🩵❄️🎅 merry Christmas and happy holidays! I’ll see you in the new year!

Warnings:angst, kissing, Bucky and reader are idiots this fic is safe for work but I’m putting this ⬇️ here because my blog is strictly no minors! 🔞

“Wow plum look at you go!” Bucky laughed as you almost hit a rail skating too fast to come to an easy stop.

Just as you got your balance back and stopped laughing at your clumsyness you looked up to see Bucky on his phone again. Lately, for the past two months, bucky has been possessive of his phone and always on it. Smiling at it too. It made you uneasy, Bucky had had plenty of girlfriends in the past but he was always present when hanging out with you. You had lightly asked him last week if he was seeing anyone, he didn't hear you the first time because he was on his phone.

“W-whatcha’ you say plum?”

“I asked if you were seeing anyone, you’re constantly on your phone” you repeated

“No, what? no! why would you think that? You’re my best friend you know i wouldn't hide anything like that from you” james spoke nonchalantly, he patted your head like a child right before he went back to smiling at his phone and texting.

It worried you. This year after ice skating you and him were gonna go get dinner (this usually isn’t a part of your tradition) you wanted to admit your feelings for him tonight but his recent behavior had you second guessing, for one he was always on his phone texting and he sure as hell doesn't look like a giddy school girl from texting sam or steve, and secondly when you asked him if he wanted to go to dinner afterward he was suspiciously happy. He said that it was great that you asked actually because he could “kill two birds with one stone” When you asked him what he meant he brushed you off and now he’s saying he has a surprise.

You had a feeling that he was seeing a girl and you hoped and prayed that you were wrong but the way he was acting proved you right, but you tried to take his word for it because he was Bucky your best friend and he would never lie to you. Right?

Wrong. As you walked into the small restaurant bucky’s smile grew 10 times wider, he waved to a blonde girl sitting at a four-person table. He walked over to her you followed a desperate feeling coming over you where you wished this wasn't what you thought it was. ‘No not tonight! the night I was going to confess my undying love for you no. bucky why?! Why do you have to be a stupid man?’ you thought.

She stood out of her seat he put his hand on her lower waist, lower than a friend would. She pecked his lips. You noticed everything he did or didn't do, you watched as your personal hell ripped itself into the small restaurant.

“y/n this is Polly, my girlfriend,” Bucky said him and her still standing in front of you. You wanted to cry and run away, she was perfect the opposite of everything that made you. You stared in shock.

“Uh um, h-hi im y/n” you swallowed thickly after speaking. You hated yourself you should have listened to your gut.

Bucky looked at you confused, he didn't expect your reaction to be so flat. He thought you would be so happy but now you looked pale and uncomfortable.

“It's too nice to meet you y/n I've heard so much about you” Oh god she was nice too!

The three of you sat, you wanted to puke.

“I thought you weren't seeing anyone bucky?” you asked shakily

“Well, bucky and I wanted to keep it a secret. We just wanted to live in our little bubble for longer ya know” she answered for him

“How long have you two been together?” you asked, anger creeping in towards yourself and Bucky. Yourself forever thinking Bucky could love and him for lying.

“Two and a half months” she answered again. you abruptly pushed your chair out from under the table you hadn't even taken off your coat but you felt cold like you were dying in the North Pole. You grabbed your coat in a haste. Bucky's confused eyes follow you.

“Hey! Hey y/n what are you doing?” he asked as you walked towards the exit you didn't respond. You felt humiliated and heartbroken. ‘God the man I've loved like a fool for seven years! How could I be so stupid!’ you though to yourself

“y/n get back here! Whats wrong with you?!” Bucky yelled after you while he tried to catch up with you as you walked down the street. Finally, he did, he grabbed your arm yanking you around to face him.

“What the hells matter with you?!” he said angry now too.

“I have to leave! I-i cant be friends with you anymore!” you screamed

Bucky's face dropped “Wh-what why?” he said confused and sad.

“B-because I-I just can’t okay!”

“Bullshit tell me. Now!” he demanded

“I-I’m in love with you okay!?”

“What!”

“I invited you to dinner tonight because i wanted to confess my feeling an- it doesn’t matter anymore okay. You have a girlfriend an-and she seems so lovely and im sorry that i made her uncomfortable i-i need to leave.” you said

“How long?” his tone stoic and hard, he wouldn’t let you go

“Since high school b-but i didnt realize what my feelings for you were until this past summer when we went on our trip to the ocean” you whispered ashamed.

“I-i dont know what to say” you broke his hold walking away as fast as you could. Tears finally falling. He didn’t need to say anything because you already knew he didn’t hold the same feelings you did for him.

“Wait wait y/n” you were gone.

December 21st

You got on a flight back home for the holidays usually you would take this flight home with bucky but you couldnt face him. He called and texted you all night, but the pain and embarrassment was to much.

The flight was horrible and your mom picking you up from the airport was spent listening to her cheer on and on about how bucky had a new girlfriend. Your familes were very close.

You wanted to the ground to suck you under itself.

Sitting in your mom’s livling room while your family and buckys talked and laughed was awful. You could feel his sorrowful looks on your skin and thats what really ate you alive. After some point of faking smiles you went up to you old bedroom. It was just like you left it last year and before you left to explore the world with bucky. The laughs you and him had in your old room made you tear up. When you used to get sad or when his parents fought he would climb in your window in the middle of the night. You two would watch movies, cuddle one another whichever one of you who needed the comfort. Just two kids trying to find peace in the world they share with everyone but also their own. the two of you cheering eachother up. As you looked back you scoffed towards yourself for being so stupid because how could you not tell you were selfishly in love him? Holding him while he cried or when he was angry, cuddling while watching movies or playing bored games in secret so your parents wouldn’t find out. The shorting pain in your chest when he would introduce you to one of his new girlfriends was not normal friend behavior.

Then tears fell as you sat on your bed holding a pillow to your chest. You hated that you ruined your friendship, you hated yourself for thinking bucky, the play boy who got women who looked like models could ever love you back. You beat yourself up for not shutting up and sitting through that stupid dinner and at least being ale to keep him in some way even if its just as a friend it would be better than nothing.

Just as yout thoughts of self hatred were stacking up bucky walked in.

“What are you doing in here?” you asked trying to swipe you tears away before he could see them

He sat at the foot of your bed looking at you. “Hey hey, plum,” he reached forward bringing your hands into his “you never have to hide from me”

“I-im so so sorry bucky. You must hate me” you cried

“How could i hate the girl im in love with?” he brought his hand to cup your wet cheek lifting up your face so your eyes could meet his.

“ no no” you shook your head refusing to believe him. 

“Ive been hiding my feelings for a lot longer then you plum” he chuckled sadly. “i ruined the dinner you planned it was stupid of me to surprise you with me having a girlfriend. Every girl ive ever been with as always been me trying to distract myself from not being able to be with you. I thought i wouldnt have a chance with you in a million years, i thought having you as a friend was all i was going to get and thats better then not having you at all so i never told you and last night was was the best night and the worst night of my life because i found out that you loved me and i hurt you. Last night i broke up with polly. I only want you plum, i love you too”

You pulled bucky into a kiss, it was soft, new, it held every word the two of you have ever wanted to say to each other but thought you couldnt. It was love.

“I love you bucky”

“I love you too plum” bucky smiled pulling you back into a kiss.

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshots #marvel #james bucky barnes #friends to lovers #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #beefy bucky #bucky barnes fluff #christmas #Spotify

[tryingmyhand-atwriting]

BEGIN AGAIN 

Chapter One : An Unplanned Run-In

Notes: Hi, everyone (or no one if no one bothers to read!) This is my first ever attempt at posting fan-fiction that I have written, although I have been a reader of it for years. I’ve been in multiple fandoms through out the years but never had the guts to post anything out of fear of not being good enough or no one liking it but I figure - if one person likes it or one hundred people like it, it will all mean the same to me which is utter gratefulness that will swell within me. I am posting under a side blog so no one will know it’s me although I think there is someone who has found me (if so, hi Elise I love you.) Even if you hate it and it sucks and is boring be nice to me please I am baby. That is all - if you have made it this far I am grateful for that too.

Warnings: SLOW BURN. Hang in with me folks once we get to the good stuff it’s promising. Also, new writer - that’s a warning in itself too.

Word Count: 6545

Ashley Tisdale would argue that at times she knew her best friend better than he knew himself. Since the first day they met their connection had been instant and not even time or distance had proven able to dispel the friendship they both helped to nourish.

Not seeing him for three years didn’t change a thing between them and the older sister intuition kicks in when he’s over for the first time upon returning, meeting Jupiter in person now that he’s home, when he says, ‘Member Isabela?” And a lightbulb goes on over her head.

Ashley remembers a pretty, young eighteen year old interning for Austin’s personal assistant in 2013 to 2014. Isabela had been kind to a fault and so gentle as a person that Ashley–and Austin–had developed a protectiveness over her. She had fit into their group effortlessly and there was a close friendship that had developed between Austin and her. So close they were, Ashley would joke about being replaced. It all went downhill after the Great Incident of 2014 and Ashley never heard Austin nor Vanessa speak about Isabela again.

She exits her kitchen, resting against the doorway with her arms crossed. “Yeah I do,” she replies wondering where he would take it next. Austin hums but doesn’t reply as he continues stroking Jupiter’s back, the toddler asleep on the couch beside him. “Did you run into her or something?” She probes.

“Nah, just been… reminiscin’, I guess.” But Ashley knows her best friend, knows by the clench of his jaw and glint in his eyes that he has more to say. Things he may not want to admit or isn’t sure he should admit. “When Lydia told me she was stepping down after havin’ her baby I asked if she had any contact with Isabela but she said they don’t talk anymore.”

Ashley does a double take. “You wanna offer her the job?” She isn’t sure how to explain to him that if someone reached out after years with no contact , she would have a lot to say to that person. Granted, Isabela would never give anyone a piece of her mind but to save Austin from rejection she knows he is in desperate need of some womanly advice. “Don’t you think that’d be, uh–I’m not sure these are the right words but–awkward and mean after what happened?”

“It doesn’t have to be for the job, Ash.” Austin shrugs his shoulders. “With all these new changes in my life I guess I just uh–I know what people I want in my life now.” Ashley has seen firsthand what he means. While paparazzi had always been a part of their lives, the recent attention and invasiveness being introduced to Austin’s life was something new. A level of fame even Ashley hadn’t achieved with High School Musical..

Ashley had faith in Austin and his talent, even if he wasn’t as confident in himself. She could see his wildest dreams coming true but with Elvis, Ashley also knew he had learnt some lessons scary enough they would never shake. She saw he was frightened to death of being made to be someone he wasn’t, of being put on a pedestal and failing to meet expectations. Most importantly, Austin was made aware of how quickly people came around for the wrong reasons, ready to take advantage of success, money, and fame. Someone who freely gave loyalty and honesty expected it in return, a betrayal of that nature would hurt Austin the most. Ashley had seen Austin lose himself and have to find who he was again, but the man who reemerged was skeptical, with a new point of view.

“So you want to make amends?”

It takes Austin a while to look at Ashley, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Jupiter’s back. “More than anything I just wanna talk to her.” But she sees the longing in his eyes when they meet hers and pieces of the puzzle begin to fit together.

That’s how Ashley ends up at Chucky’s Bar in Los Feliz on a Thursday night. She didn’t tell Austin that she occasionally chats with Isabela over Instagram because she didn’t want him to do something embarassing like slide into her DMs with a lame greeting and possible emoji. Austin was smooth and charming in many ways, but at the end of the day, he was only a man and this situation was better handled with a woman’s touch. All it had taken was a ‘miss you! when are you free?’ before Isabela responded saying that this was where she’d be on her last night in LA before she traveled to Hawaii for a work trip.

“Ashley! You came!” There’s a girly squeal and arms squeezing her from behind before she turns to face Isabela. There’s a wide smile on her face and her hair frizzes with the humidity of the crowded bar. Sweat shines on her face, mascara smudged under her eyes, but Ashley has to smile– Isabela never let perceived-imperfections dull her shine. “You look hot.” Isabela checks her friend out with an impressed grin.

“I feel out of my element. I can’t remember the last time I dressed up.” Ashley giggles, taking in her surroundings. “I’m also scared I’m going to start leaking and ruin this dress.” She gestures to her enlarged breasts, made more noticeable by the deep V-cut of her dress.

Isabela lets out a loud laugh. “Some guys like that,” she whispers conspiratorially and Ashley slaps her on the arm. Isabela grabs Ashley by the hand and begins leading her to a table, “Come on, a friend saved us a table. Victoria’s got bar duty tonight but she’ll be checking in occasionally.”

“Victoria’s still working here?”

Chucky’s Bar brought back many late night memories for Ashley. There were many drunken nights spent at the low-key bar where Ashley, Austin, and Vanessa had never been recognized. It was at this bar where Ashley met Isabela and her tough as nails cousin, Victoria, who was cold the entire night and would only make rounds to their table to make sure Isabela was drinking enough water to go along with the tequila. It had taken almost a month for Victoria to warm up to the former Disney kids. Ashley was sure any kindness on Victoria’s part was thrown out the window after the Incident.

Ashley would have found Victoria’s over protectiveness creepy if she didn’t understand why. Isabela was sweetly naive, always seeing the best in the world and people around her. An innocence that had probably broken her heart more than once. It hadn’t taken long for Ashley to feel the same way towards Isabela, like she was a younger sister.

“She practically runs this place. Derek’s one year away from retiring and he’s already promised to leave it to her.” Isabela’s face beams with pride. As they approach the table she turns to face Ashley briefly and catches the uncertainty in her eyes, the awkward hunch to her shoulders, that only comes when someone feels unwelcome. Isabela reaches to hold Ashley’s fingers in hers. “She’s gonna be on her best behavior, okay? I told her you were coming and anyways, everything that happened that day had nothing to do with you.”

Doesn’t it, Ashley wants to ask. Guilt gnaws at her, knowing she was meeting up with Isabela for selfish reasons. To do her best friend’s dirty work, get him into contact with someone who probably, most likely–definitely–wants nothing to do with him.

“We talking about how Victoria breastfeeds you?” There’s a busty redhead seated at the table. She’s loud in her proclamation and beautiful in a sheer silver dress. She’s gorgeous, her hair swept back in an updo and her legs crossed, the hem of her dress rising dangerously high. Already there’s more than a few curious eyes glancing towards their table. She smiles at Ashley but it drops when she catches sight of Isabela’s empty hands. She guffaws, offended, “Where are the shots? You get up and come back with no shots?”

Isabela tumbles into the seat beside her, laughing good-naturedly at her friend’s offense. It was obvious the girls had started drinking before her arrival but Ashley didn’t mind; she was planning on an easy night. Hangovers tend to be a multi-day affair once you hit thirty. “Luis said he’ll bring ‘em out to us,” Isabela tells her friend before presenting her to Ashley. “This is the worst influence in my life and the devil on my shoulder — Ash, meet Sky. She was my college roommate and yes, Victoria hates her. Doesn’t give you any right to talk shit about her though,” Isabela pinches Sky’s underarm for good measure.

“I wasn’t talking shit about her, I was making fun of you. The pretty princess stuck in the tower–you’re twenty-six.” It must be a sermon Isabela has heard before because all she offers in response to Sky’s mocking tone is an exaggerated eye roll and a shake of her head.

“Don’t worry, Victoria hates me too,” Ashley tells Sky. “She’s just always gonna look out for Isabela. No judgments here.”

Sky puts a hand on Ashley’s arm,eyes twinkling. “Oh my God. We should totally start a club.”

“I think you two booze hounds have had enough,” a blond waiter approaches their table, balancing a tray of shots. He looks toward Ashley, clarifying, “I mean those two. Especially this one,” he shoves an elbow into Sky’s side, the woman yelping and returning the hit.

Isabela leans over to touch his shoulder, imploring.. “Luis, you’re just in time. Their conversation was sobering me up.” She pouts, her lower lip jutting out.

“You just don’t like hearing the truth–”

“Not you too!”

“Ladies,” Ashley holds up her shot glass and a wedge of lemon, a strategic distraction, putting an end to the conversation. The constant back-and-forth chatter is definitely enough incentive for her to break her own self-imposed sobriety. “Are we taking this shot or what?”

“I like you,” Sky states, preparing her lemon with salt.

“Wait! We have to cheers to something,” Isabela insists when both Ashley and Sky go to throw the tequila back. She purses her lips to the side in thought, “What’s something all three of us can cheer to?”

“How about this,” Ashley begins, leaning forward on her elbows, “Sky’s here for you and so am I. So how about a cheers to Isabela for bringing us together tonight?” Isabela flushes, her lashes fanning against her cheeks as she avoids eye contact, flattered and flustered all at once. Ashley momentarily feels like she’s kissing ass, knowing she’s still wrestling with guilt over her ulterior motives, but she isn’t lying about her affection for her friend.

Sky extends her shot glass forward. “To Isabela.”

The night is a whirlwind after that. Ashley remembers a Pitbull song coming on that had Sky pulling both she and Isabela to the middle of the dance floor, smack between other dancers. There was another shot–or four–taken and by the time the girls are dancing to the fifth song of the night, now joined by a group of girls they had befriended at the bar. Ashley has to momentarily return to the table, ridding herself of her jacket.. It isn’t lost on her that the reason for her random request of a girls’ night out hasn’t been brought up once, but she doesn’t have it in her to ruin what has been an amazing night so far.

She could always try again. Preferably when it wasn’t her first time reuniting with an old friend in months.

As Ashley saunters back over to their spot on the dance floor, she catches sight of Sky’s silver dress towards the bar with Luis, no doubt asking for another round of shots. Ashley hopes–and doubts–that Sky forgot to order her one, the beginning of a headache pounding behind her eyes. Isabela’s still where she left her but a man has since joined her. He’s handsome, Ashley must admit, and standing almost a foot over Isabela who’s lacing her fingers together in front of her repeatedly. She has a smile on her face though,so Ashley doesn’t feel the need to interject as she nears.

“You’re sweet, but I’m here with my friends. Sorry,” Ashley catches Isabela apologize, her lashes fluttering as she blinks rapidly, and her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. In anyone else Ashley would have taken the actions to be coy or flirty, but in Isabela she sees them for what they are–nervous tics. More words are exchanged and Isabela moves away when the guy places a hand at her hip. Ashley is debating on whether or not she should intercept and tell the guy to get lost, knowing it would be quicker than Isabela’s kind approach, when he throws his hand out beside him in a fist in annoyance before storming away.

Isabela stumbles back, flinching violently at his outburst, and Ashley’s beside her in the next moment, a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She asks, scanning over Isabela. She didn’t see the guy touch her, but Isabela’s response worried her, as if he did more than utter cruel words to her. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, no.” Isabela shakes her head and attempts a smile but her eyes are glossy with unshed tears. “He just got mad and it caught me off guard, I guess. I’m fine.”

“Isabela—” you don’t seem fine, is what Ashley’s going to say but she’s cut off by the arrival of Sky–who did conjure up another round of shots–and two blonde girls they had been dancing with earlier.

“I got us more shots, bitches,” she whoops loudly, pumping a single fist. She drops the act once she takes in the heavy atmosphere. “What’s wrong?”

Ashley hesitates. Some guy was rude to Isabela and she almost cried, which was technically true, but her reaction hinted at something deeper–although the man hadn’t seemed to lay a hand on her. What worried Ashley was the possibility of someone else having done so..

“Some guy was a dick and caught me off guard. Ashley’s never seen my freak outs before.” Isabela shrugs, feigning nonchalance and maintaining eye contact with her friend. There seemed to be a million words said between them but their mouths didn’t move once. It was a look shared between best friends with no words necessary.

Sky shakes her head, turning to Ashley with another smile and extending the tray of shots again. “Isabela doesn’t go out much, so every time she does she gets shocked at what big assholes guys actually are.” She said by way of explanation, handing a shot to Isabela. “She’ll survive; it just takes her a couple seconds to shake it off.”

Ashley detects the bullshit lie, but it isn’t a topic she wants to press so publicly. Instead she politely declines the shot, “I need water for the next hour before Ubering home. It’s Jupiter’s birthday party tomorrow and I need to be up early to set up.”

“Oh, no,” Isabela’s brows pinch and she places her shot back in Sky’s hand. “I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have asked you to come out to a bar if I knew you had to be up early tomorrow.” She interlocks her elbows with Ashley’s, pulling her to Luis’s section of the bar and signaling him for two glasses of water.

“I’m a grown woman, Is. And lack of sleep is nothing new to mothers. Having a newborn is like a hangover that lasts for months.”

Isabela chuckles, sliding her glass of water over. “What a lovely comparison!”

“I love being a mom,” Ashley defends, laughing. “But it’s not as easy as people make it out to be. At least it wasn’t for me. I called my mom crying so many times, sure that I was failing or ruining this perfect little person somehow.”

“You’ve officially talked me out of ever wanting kids.”

“Come on,” Ashley rolls her eyes. “You put everyone before yourself; you’d be the perfect mom.”

Isabela shrugs a shoulder, her elbow leaning on the table. “I don’t know. Maybe. I wanted kids when I was younger, but the past few years have basically been about my career. One thing is for sure though, I’d want it to happen on my terms and at the time I’m ready. No time soon.” The conversation and glasses of water have helped both of them sober up and, for that, Ashley is glad. The room isn’t spinning as much as it was before. Now, Ashley just feels drowsy as the alcohol leaves her system. Isabela must catch her tired expression because she hums, “What time should I be at your house tomorrow to help you set up?”

Ashley shakes her head vehemently. “You’ve got a flight tomorrow, miss. You’re going to need all the sleep you could get.”

“I could sleep on the flight,” Isabela returns smartly, her tone matter-of-fact. Ashley pushes her knee, sending her spinning on the bar stool. Isabela continues. “I feel guilty I had you come out! No way in hell are you setting up alone tomorrow before hosting a kids’ party. I’m helping!”

Luis interrupts their conversation, throwing a rag over his shoulder and refilling both glasses with more water. Ashley smiles. “Two beautiful ladies like you must be starving. My momma always said the way into a girl's heart was through her stomach.”

“I think your mom had it wrong; isn’t it supposed to be a man’s stomach?” Ashley laughs, but she has to wonder because food certainly sounded like heaven then.

“Two burgers to go please and then an Uber.” Isabela shoots him a dazzling, cheesy grin, her cheeks dimpling as she throws a hand over Ashley’s shoulder. “We’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

—

Waking up early after a night out is harder to do the older she gets. If Isabela hadn’t offered to help Ashley with Jupiter’s birthday party set up and have a flight scheduled for later on that day she would have stayed in bed nursing her hangover for the next forty-eight hours. The breeze is fresh as she waltzes up to Ashley’s front door to ring the doorbell. It’s early spring and as is regular for Los Angeles the sun is bright and scorching but the wind is a welcome reprieve from the heat. Various trees are surrounding Ashley’s front yard but Isabela doesn’t dare take off her glasses. Her eyes were probably swollen and red from lack of sleep and overdrinking the night before. Come to think of it, she still felt slightly drunk.

She had been woken up two hours earlier when Sky had crawled into her bed. Ashley and Isabela had left the bar before anyone else and the late time Sky showed up at her apartment meant that Luis and Victoria must have let her and a few others continue drinking after closing time. Isabela doesn’t understand how Sky did it. Isabela hadn’t drank half as much but knew she would be suffering twice as hard compared to Sky.

“Hi, sunshine.” Isabela can only grumble in response to Ashley’s greeting, letting her usher her inside the house with a laugh. “I told you to sleep in. I’m making Chris do all the heavy work anyway.”

“I’m perfectly able,” Isabela insists, sliding her glasses atop her head. She claps her hands, taking in the balloons and empty candy bags surrounding the living room coffee table. “Put me to work.”

There were fifteen other children in Jupiter’s daycare class and each one had a specific diet request which meant each candy bag must contain different items and not be confused. Ashley handed Isabela a list of the kids name and items their goodie bag must contain and sat her down in front of all the miniature snacks and toys. Jupiter’s party was space themed and the small moons and planets that Ashley had bought to go in the bag made Isabela coo. Why were tiny things so unfairly adorable?

“I want to make sure they are perfect,” Isabela defends with a fond eye roll when she sees Ashley arching an eyebrow as she triple checks a bag. There’s a small smile on Isabela’s lips from Ashley’s teasing but when she puts her mind to a task she always has to make sure it is done right. Not to mention that focusing her full attention on the goodie bags had her paying less attention to how sick she still felt. Even when she was younger she had never handled hangovers well.

“Do you want me to place the trash can beside you? Need a reminder as to where the closest bathrooms are?” Ashley teases her friend, noticing the large inhale and exhale she’s continuously doing and knowing it is in efforts to tame her growing nausea. She had offered Isabela tums and breakfast but Isabela insisted the only thing she would be able to keep down was water.

“I hate you,” Isabela returns, leaning back to let the couch cushions swallow her. “Drinking is not meant for me. I don’t know why I keep letting Sky talk me into nights out.” She closes her eyes for a few moments. Her eyelids feel heavy and she wonders if her eyebags are as horrible as she imagines. Isabela knew she looked a mess when she was tired. She wasn’t lucky enough to be a cute drowsy girl. No. It was all dark eyebags and swollen eyes for her.

“Think of the memories,” Ashley insists. “Memories are all we leave behind anyway.”

Isabela pops one eye open. “That was dark,” she laughs, never having known Ashley to be anything but optimistic. She gets what she is trying to say though. It doesn’t matter how much money someone left you if they were pieces of shit throughout your life, you would have rather had good times with them.

There is a shift in Ashley’s attitude, a tension in the air and Isabela knew it would come up sooner or later. She remembers being back at the bar. Crowded and sweaty and that guy had been an asshole but it was nothing new — it wasn’t until he had turned his hand into a fist and swung it beside him that she had reacted. Isabela had flinched and it made her feel weak but knowing Ashley had caught sight of it caused anxiety to flare up in her chest and overtake every feeling in her body. Hangover and shame be damned. She was sick to her stomach deciding whether she wanted Ashley to know the truth or not.

“Is,” Ashley begins, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Isabela doesn’t want to seem flippant or uncaring of the worries her friend is bringing up so she sits up and mirrors her position. Showing she’s listening but keeping what she hopes is a blank expression on her face so nothing is given away. “Last night at the bar… when that guy asked you to dance —” Ashley cuts herself off and Isabela has been through this before. Knows that the people in her life care about her and it hurts them to think about and they can hardly bear to ask. “If you don’t want to answer it, that’s fine. We’ll move on and I promise I will never bring it up again but I have to ask at least once. What happened with that guy at the bar?”

Isabela thinks back to her sophomore year in college, freshly twenty and in love with the new usual that had taken up residence at Chucky’s Bar. He’d been a couple of years older and had only recently graduated from university, he was on his way to taking over his family restaurant. He was sweet and funny, his family had been warm and welcoming and within a blink of her eyes her sweet dream had turned into her worst nightmare. His tight grips became punches, his jealousy became delusions, and the hopes of him changing for her were flushed down the drain. She knew the saying, ‘if they did it once they will do it again’, but she had been so young and dumb and blinded. She considers herself one of the lucky ones. The incident had only escalated once and she had managed to get away.

It’s been years and she’s had therapy. Isabela isn’t angry at the world. She doesn’t hate all men. Hasn’t sworn off to ever date again or anything like that but the memories still feel fresh in her mind. Sometimes more than others and they always succeed at making her feel weak because she can’t help her body’s physical reactions. She can admit that the memories paralyze her every single time she has to deny someone something or she is in a position to displease someone, even minimally. It’s what had happened at the bar: Isabela’s palms had begun sweating the second the guy approached her because she knew she was going to turn him down. He had been kind in asking but not so nice once she had declined his offer. It hadn’t been the curses he had called her that made her flinch. The flinch had been in response to the arm he’d thrown out in exasperation and more than anything she’s only embarrassed of her lacking strength.

It’s one thing to have your weakness known and another entirely to have to explain it. It was like baring your soul to every person you came in contact with and Isabela trusts Ashley but she’s not ready for the way Ashley looks at her to change. She doesn’t need another person in her life viewing her as needing to be protected.

“My ex boyfriend wasn’t so nice,” is what Isabela settles on and she hopes that it’s enough for now. She remembers her mothers tears and Victoria’s anger when she woke up in the hospital. Ashley’s eyes soften and tear immediately and Isabela isn’t ready to draw out any other reaction. She reaches over to place a comforting hand on her friend's knee, assuring her she was with her now. “Oh Ash, don’t cry,” there’s a wobbly lip accompanying her chuckle. “It was a long time ago and I’m fine, okay? I’m right here.”

There’s astonishment in Ashley’s eyes, wonder over the strength of the woman sitting in front of her. Talking of her pain and still choosing to comfort others. “I hope Victoria killed him,” is all Ashley can think to say and Isabela lets out a watery laugh with one last pat to her knee before bringing her arm back.

“Let’s move on to these balloons, yeah?”

Three hours are spent blowing up balloons and taping them together as well as convincing Ashley to not change every detail over the chosen theme. Chris had been seconds away from crying when Ashley suggested for the tables to be moved and it was only when Isabela convinced her otherwise that the tension in his shoulders seemed to release. He had made a crazy motion behind his wife’s back and Isabela had to bite back her laugh. She sympathized with the stress on Ashley in ensuring the party was perfect for Jupiter and she was glad if she was able to ease a sliver of that.

After meeting the gorgeous and chatty Jupiter she found herself bummed that she was unable to stay. Jupiter was kind in providing Isabela with a tour of her playroom and allowing her to color in her favorite art book. There were lots of gibberish and babbles that ended with Jupiter looking up at Isabela waiting for a response so all she could do was pretend she understood the little girl with responses of ‘oh yeah’ and ‘wow’.

“I don’t want to let her go,” Isabela complains with a pout, squeezing Jupiter for a goodbye hug that the toddler was more than happy to return. “She’s perfect. I don’t understand how you guys get anything done, I just want to have her in my arms all day.” She takes advantage of having her in her arms and decides to take one last whiff of her baby head before letting go. “Have the best birthday party, little lady. Eat cake until your heart's content.”

“Uh oh, someone has baby fever.” Chris cocks a playful eyebrow in Isabela’s direction.

“No, no, no. I’m more than fine being the cool aunt who gets to spoil them rotten and hand them back during tantrums,” she replies, placing both hands on her knees to rise from her couch on the entryway, Jupiter having disappeared to the backyard. “You two should have another one, though.”

Chris’s wide eyes and immediate head shake have Isabela laughing. Ashley elbows her husband slightly, rolling her eyes at him before responding. “That one runs us ragged. We wanna wait until she’s a little older.”

Isabela can understand that. “My flight is in three hours and I still need to shower —”

“Is that what I smell?”

Ashley rolls her eyes at her husband, “Ignore him. It’s what I do.”

There is a bright smile on Isabela’s face, content to be around friends and their marital teasing. Maybe she missed them more than she thought. She feels guilty for believing Victoria when she said Ashley must have had ulterior motives for an impromptu girls night. Isabela had been nervous and taken more shots than she should have before Ashley’s arrival, convincing herself it had something to do with the mishap from years before. Fortunately Victoria and Isabela were both wrong and she found herself letting tension release in Ashley’s presence.

“Make sure to send me lots and lots of pictures of Jupiter. I want to see her chubby cheeks smothered in cake frosting and her little face when she opens her gift.” The adults peek over in the direction of the distracted toddler. “Thanks for having me over.”

“Are you kidding? Thank you for helping. I would still be stuck in a stress frenzy if you hadn’t been my sound board today,” Ashley replies, pulling her old friend in for a hug. Chris has the door open for Isabela behind them as he lets them say their goodbyes in peace, knowing it may be a while before the girls would be able to see each other again. “Let’s not go that long without contact again, ‘kay?”

Isabela shook her head. “Now that I’ve met your little monster you aren’t getting rid of me.” There’s another round of waves and goodbyes before Isabela exits their home and they close the door behind her. She feels lighter than she had when she arrived that morning, sleep deprived and slightly hungover. The air breeze against her no longer has the morning freshness and the LA heat has managed to set in.

She takes solace in the fact that in a few hours she was going to be in Hawaii. It was a light work trip with her client only having one single interview and photo shoot so she knew she would have downtime to hit the beach and local restaurant. Isabela’s making a mental note to text Jessica, her coworker and client’s social media manager, as well as opening her notes app to see the packing checklist made the day before when she hears footsteps trudging towards her and her name being called.

There's a sinking feeling in her gut. A part of her wants to run away and hide, remembering the embarrassment and shame that was brought upon her that day, but there’s a voice in her head telling her to keep her head held high and act like nothing was off.

“Austin, hey,” she hopes her tone isn’t filled with the dread she feels.

There’s a pause before she allows herself to face him for the first time in seven years. Isabela has seen him on television shows and movies, on the cover of magazines and gracing the front pages of tabloids with his then girlfriend. She would have to be in hiding to not have seen him this past year alone with all the Elvis promo, but seeing him in person manages to take her breath away. He’s handsome and that hasn’t changed. If anything, time and new opportunities have done him well. She remembers a sad boy who had just lost his mother and didn’t know what to do with his life; he was skinny and lanky and hadn’t got a haircut in months.

The man in front of her had life in him. He’s filled out since the last time she saw him and she sees a gleam in his eye that wasn’t there before. Austin must be happy, its the only guess she would make, and no matter what he put her through, happiness and health is all Isabela would have ever wished for him.

“Ash didn’t tell me you’d be here,” he says as he approaches closer to where she stands. Isabela expects the hug, finds herself accepting it, and then she immediately hates herself after. “It’s so good seeing you. I’ve been thinking about you.” Austin has never been one to shy away from his feelings, he’s always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but this once she wishes he wasn’t so honest because it somehow hurts more to know she’s crossed his mind and he never reached out. “My assistant, uh, Lydia, remember her? She's pregnant. Told me last week and she was really happy. She’s gonna become a stay at home mom after, I think.”

There’s a brow arch because she’s unsure of how the news pertains to her. Isabela has talked to Lydia frequently through the years and the woman had called her a few days prior to share the news. “Yeah, she told me. Her and Raul are really excited. I mean, good for them, I know they’ll make the best parents.”

Austin looks like he’s gonna continue as he nods his head along in agreement but, “Hang on, you keep in touch with her?” He asks and he looks genuinely confused. It makes two of them because Isabela has no idea what’s going on in this conversation or what she could possibly have to do with Lydia being pregnant and why on earth it would be the first thing Austin wants to share with her after six years of no contact.

Isabela nods slowly. “She’s been a great help to me through the years. Helped me finish my internship and get an interview at this agency I’m at. I tell her she makes me feel like a nepo baby with all the connections she offers.” The fond eye roll shows all the love between the two women and transports Austin back in time to when there was a genuine friendship between them and he remembers to put the conversation back on track, where he wants it to head.

“Well, the job’s yours. If you want it.” There’s a dead silence that takes up the space between them. Quiet enough where he can hear the sound of the leaves rustling on Ashley’s front yard and the faint sound of a car honking from a block over. Austin feels the need to explain, “The past year has been amazing, Is, and I’ve actually got some of my favorite directors asking for me to read for their films. And with Elvis coming out, despite how it makes me sound like a complete dick, things are changing for me and I want people I can trust around me. You know, people who won’t come around for the wrong reasons or with bad intentions. When Lydia told me she’d help me find someone new all I could think about was offering it to you. I’ve got James, Kate, and people I trust around me and I wanna keep that going. I trust you. And I already know you’re damn good at your job.”

The betrayal that has simmered beneath her skin for six years - a betrayal from a friend and former employer, a betrayal that Isabela had forced herself to forgive without apologies being exchanged for her own emotional health - she feels the betrayal awaken in her chest as if it’s the day of again. She didn’t need anyone to plead for forgiveness and she didn’t need to be fought for but she always hoped that if a thought from him was spared for her it was because of more than him needing her for a job. A job he was only offering because he was big and famous and people were out to use him now.

Did Austin wake up and think, “hey, she was humiliated and treated like shit in my backyard and never spilled the beans to any tabloid so I must be able to trust her?”

Isabela reminds herself to take a deep breath. Austin was many things but he was never selfish or inconsiderate of others. His mom and sister would have never allowed it. Isabela had to come to terms with the fact that a moment of great disappointment and disloyalty in her life didn’t create an impact in his life. He hadn’t spent three days crying in bed afterwards or had a hard time getting hired for months after because gossip had made the rounds. Nope. The humiliation, sadness, and shame was left for her.

“I, um,” she knows that anyone else would have a lot to say. She wishes she had the guts to do the same but she doesn’t want to engage in an argument or have him give a meaningless apology. She doesn’t want him to know how much she still cares when he obviously had moved past it. “I’m taking a year off. Gonna take some time to travel and all that, but thank you. For thinking of me and offering.” She hopes her eyes aren’t brimming with tears because they sure are currently burning.

Austin looks disappointed and she wonders why he’d be anything but aware of the fact that she wouldn’t want to work with him again. Do they remember the day differently or something? She doesn’t have the gall to say any of that and she bites her lip to stop herself from easing any discomfort between them so the awkward silence grows between them before Austin moves to break it.

“Let me take your number down, at least,” he says as he reaches into his back pocket to pull his sleek black iPhone out and hand it to her. She takes it, noticing no phone case on and she cringes because her phone wouldn’t survive a day. “In case you come back from vacation early.” There’s a teasing lilt in his tone and she offers a small smile as she inputs her number for him, “Or just so we could catch up. You’ve been missed.”

There’s that eye roll again and it makes his stupidly handsome grin immediately return. For her part, she offers another small smile and wave as she heads down the pathway, “until next time, then,” she replies and when she turns she takes a deep breath to disperse the tightness in her throat. Although it’s unlikely, she wishes the next time is never because she wouldn’t survive another experience.

#austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler x reader #austin x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler headcanons #austin butler one shot #austin butler fanfic #austin butler

[springmagpies]

In the scene where Thresh lets Katniss go in the first Hunger Games, there is a line from the book that I really wish the movies had included and that's this line of Katniss's: "Yes. I killed him. And buried her in flowers," I say. "And I sang her to sleep." It's this line that disarms Thresh and he questions what she means, prompting Katniss to have to amend the statement and say, "I sang to her until she died." But it's the way that Katniss words it at first that I think is what really makes Thresh stop. She's not only saying that they were allies, that she paid her respects to Rue by burying her, but that she acknowledged how young Rue was, how innocent, how gentle, and that she knew her well enough to know that she loves music. She acknowledged all of this by singing to her. This line is not only adds to why Thresh lets Katniss go but also how trauma plays a role in the story itself, a part of The Hunger Games that I think makes it unique to other YA novels. Not only does this phrasing show Katniss caring for Rue, it is simultaneously showing just how in denial Katniss is and just how traumatizing the event was. It shows how much Rue reminded her of Prim, how closely the two are linked in her mind, and how the trauma of losing Rue echos her fear of losing Prim. Also, importantly, it shows the mental blockades Katniss has had to put up to keep herself going. She hasn't let it hit her that Rue is really really gone. She broke down right after it happened, but then she immediately had to go back into survival mode and then into "find and protect Peeta" mode. It's Clove taunting her with what happened to Rue and then Thresh pushing for an explanation that makes Katniss confront it, and even then she can't bring herself to actually say Rue died. She admits that she killed Marvel and that Rue is gone, but she can only say that she "sang Rue to sleep." But she is pushed to amend the statement and say that she sang to her until she died, sending her into panic beyond what she had been feeling when threatened by Clove and confronted by Thresh. She is experiencing new moments of trauma on top of reliving it, all of it compounding on top of itself. It's clear that Suzanne Collins took great care in actually looking at, exploring, and addressing what forms trauma might take and in what ways it might appear. How it manifests is also different for each character, but even early within the series we see Katniss facing extreme panic when forced to examine her denial. And it is shown in just the most gut-wrenching line of, "I sang her to sleep."

#the hunger games #the hunger games meta #katniss everdeen #tw trauma #tw death

[bringthekaos]

How do you recon Jayce and Viktor started up their enemies with benefits arrangement? Did one of them just kind of show up at the others door, willing to face the humiliation of asking? Were they fighting and the tension was too much to ignore? A secret third thing?

Oh, it had to have been a “fighting turns into fucking” situation. In their divorce era, I don’t think either one of them could swallow their pride and go to the other to admit what they want. They’re too emotionally constipated.

I imagine it was probably a brutal fight, each of them using their intimate knowledge of the other to truly hit him where it hurts. They sling personal insults, they trade devastating blows. And it’s sort of a beautiful parallel of the Ekko/Jinx fight—Viktor pins Jayce down on the ground or up against a wall, Hexclaw around his neck…

And they both pause. Jayce stops fighting it, stops trying to push Viktor away. Viktor takes a little longer to relent, but slowly the HexClaw’s grip loosens, his entire body going unnaturally still.

For a few earth-shattering moments, they just stare at each other. And of course it’s Jayce who moves first—reaching up and gently wrapping his fingers around the ‘wrist’ of the Hexclaw with one hand, and reaching for Viktor’s mask with the other. Viktor tenses, the Hexclaw tightening again and a sound like a growl rumbling in his chest. It’s a warning, a silent demand of don’t.

But Jayce has never had a great sense of self-preservation. So he keeps going, sliding the mask up and off.

And he hasn’t seen Viktor’s face since before. And while the scars from Jinx’s attack are a little shocking, he’s still so beautiful that Jayce’s breath leaves him like he’s been punched in the gut. And for a split second, it looks like he’s made a fatal error—all those years of rage and betrayal culminating in a vicious snarl on Viktor’s face.

Neither of them is sure who moves first—their lips slamming together for a bruising kiss. It’s sort of a battle in and of itself—both of them fighting for dominance. But somewhere along the way, the hammer hits the ground, and that’s all she wrote.

#daaaaaamnit this is another one I wanna write #the WIP list just keeps gettin bigger and bigger #arcane #jayvik #jayce talis #machine herald viktor #jayvik divorce era #asks #ace answers

[damianbugs]

batfam taking care of dick grayson fics !! time travel fics !! heart wrenching batfam fics that actually analyse the characters and give a good character study and don't simply accept fanon crap (coffee addict tim drake im looking at u) !! ur top 5 all time fave batfam fic !! and also, i love ur stuff so much on ao3 thank u for sharing your work w us <3

THANK YOU SO MUCH !!! this is so sweet i am so happy you enjoy my work <3 i will do you one better and offer a list combining all your requests to the best of my capabilities !! you've caught me at a great time, because i am currently obsessed with batfam timetravel.

i will admit i definitely have more than five favourites (my 500+ carefully curated and organised private bookmarks should be proof enough) so i hope you like the ones i have selected here :D ! (these are in no particular order!)

MY TOP 5 FAVOURITE BATFAM FICS (on ao3) !

Tap by CKBookish

Bruce returns home from the time stream, haunted by phantoms and dreams. Dreams of a past that can't be real.

But all of that wouldn't be so bad if his home didn't feel so empty in the absence of one of his children. Jason, refuses to talk to him or even answer his calls and Bruce can't figure out why or what he did wrong, not after they had mended their fences before his disappearance.

Meanwhile,

Catherine struggles to hold it together for her and Jason as life falls apart around them. When all she has to give is love she does her best to give it all.

MY NOTES: one of my all time favourite not-exactly-time-travel time travel fics! features some wonderful character building and complicated relationships, and the plot itself is just incredibly. the way everyone is written is definitely realistic to how i would imagine them personally (especially dick).

A Good Place by LemonadeGarden

Damian Wayne is kidnapped and sent back years through time. Together, he and Father – who's only been Batman for a mere six months –must figure out how to return him to his own time.

Over the course of the next week, Damian discovers that Mexican gangsters do not mess around, that social workers find Bruce annoying, that Bruce might be a little messed up, and that crystal chandeliers create the fondest memories.

Oh. And Alfred has hair.

MY NOTES: not only is this one of my top favourite time travel fics, it is also one of my favourite bruce and damian fics. it is so witty and fun, but also hurts immensely. fics where the kids are forced to endure young bruce's ridiculousness is always a treat, and here it is infinitely more amusing because it's damian finding his father entirely silly.

Modus Tollens by fanfictiongreenirises

Dick is cursed to kill anyone he touches.

MY NOTES: this one is fantastic. really gut wrenching throughout and you really feel for dick when it gets tough, but the sweet ending makes up for all the pain. dick loves his family and his family loves him immensely.

I Used to Be an Adventurer Like You, Then I Took an Arrow to the Knee by audreycritter

Stephanie was just on patrol and now she’s stuck somewhere, sometime, with Bruce.

They bleed and bond and mostly try to keep each other alive— you know, just a Tuesday.

MY NOTES: don't mind me casually recommending just the best bruce and stephanie fic to ever be written. it is unhealthy how many times i have read this one. and it is time travel! this is my dream come true. it also features one of my most favourite studies on bruce and stephanie and what they represent to each other.

Keep Your Head, Your Backbone and Your Heart by MrMich

The last thing that Duke expected on what was supposed to be just a regular patrol was being suddenly thrown five years into the past, coming face to face with a darker, more violent Batman than the one he knew, a broken family, and a Tim who was a foot shorter than Duke, and not even Robin yet.

MY NOTES: there was a moment in time where i briefly made this fic my entire personality with how much i spoke about it. dare i say one of the best duke thomas centric fics and ITS TIME TRAVEL! it is so great. i have noticed that you rarely see tim as robin in time travel fics, and he is so lovely in this, especially his dynamic with duke. as always, young bruce is ridiculous, but how duke navigates through it all is so important to me.

OKAY i will stop here as i frantically try to shove the remaining 495 fics back into my metaphorical ao3 closet. i hope u like these anon! <3 also if you haven't already, check out all these authors other works too! they are all fantastic !!

#batfam #fic rec #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #stephanie brown #tim drake #duke thomas #fic reccomendations #time travel #canon divergence #can you tell im crazy insane about these fics yet #saki batfam fic recs

[fvrsaeken]

"i don't wanna talk about it." she mumbled, pulling the covers over her head. but did that ever stop a grimes? absolutely not. to his credit, bergen had given them the room despite the fact that even she was worried about what she would say to carl. she'd been pulling away and she knew it, she couldn't exactly hide that fact. despite how much progress she was making at being back out in the public again, she felt herself stumbling so she just told bergen that she'd be taking a few days away from it all. of course you can't really tell your bodyguard to go home for a few days when they live with you but that was at least the intention. cohabitate in silence so to speak.

but she must have worried him because she heard the knock before he said: "carl's here." and then in came @carltongrimes. godammit. to be fair, they had a tumultuous relationship with pulling away from the public and from each other. but there were just questions. so many questions and judith dropped her arms back down, folding the blanket along with her before getting up. "you don't get it..." she walked towards the back of her room, staring out the large window to the backyard. well he might get it, but he didn't get it. he didn't know what it was like in her head. how damaged she felt by it all. she'd been keeping that in for a long time and she was okay with that. at least she tried to be.

"you don't get it because i don't talk about it. i don't talk because i'm the one who has to be okay. i'm the one who's always okay!" judith could feel herself getting worked up as she folded her arms across her chest. you don't need to be strong all the time, it's okay to let go. she tried to push back the tears, god she hated that she cried whenever she felt like this. "you weren't there... you weren't there when i held hannah in my arms as she died! when i still held her hand on the way to the hospital, or cleaned her blood off my hands when i got there! you weren't there!" she turned on him now, blue eyes almost wild as she stared at him. she hated that day with everything she had in her. they were celebrating hannah's birthday for fucks sake and she died. she knew it wasn't really fair and that carl was dealing with his own shit, but she was already falling off the cliff, so why stop now? "i thought about dying after hannah..." her eyes were still wild, but her voice was the opposite, like the eye of a hurricane where it's calm before the weather takes back over. "i didn't want to get out of bed. everyone was telling me that it was my fault. that i was the reason she died. and i started to believe them. started to believe every awful word they wrote about me... because if i was who they said i was it shouldn't matter right? i could just," she gestured down at herself, she was tiny for her age, in more ways than one and she knew what idea she was trying to get across, but she still didn't have the guts to admit it, "disappear and no one would notice."

"oh but then!" and the anger ramped itself back up again. "then you brought me halfway around the world with you, with no one else and then you overdosed! i found you! i was the one who called for help! i was the one who got dad on a plane over there! i was the one who did everything." which again wasn't totally fair, given the circumstances, and she definitely should be yelling at their dad as well but unfortunately, carl was the one in the line of fire. "man the things they were writing about me then too were... well they were creative. if they weren't saying the same things that they said when hannah died, then it was that i was in on it because i wanted to be the most successful grimes. that i was tired of living in your shadow." that hurt more than anything. and she had worked with her team at campbell worldwide to make sure that nearly every post, every tweet, every article that said that was being suppressed. she couldn't handle that on top of everything else she was dealing with.

"i wanted to die!" she was more forceful about it this time. "i thought about dying so much that it scared the hell out of me... but no one noticed... no one even cared because i'm the one who fades into the background..." she could barely breathe, and she could barely stand, crumpling into herself as she cried. "i wanted to die and no one cared..."

#carltongrimes #&.* j.g. | interactions #&.* j.g. | a. miss americana #tw: death #tw: drug mention #( just adding a general tw in here )

[dreamiesunny]

Heart (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader 

Summary: Rey has gone off to fight the Last Order as the Resistance had been reorganizing itself after the loss of their General. You're a doctor in the Resistance and you finally met the new General one night amidst all the chaos, of pain and grief. 

Word Count: 4.2k (not beta read)

Content warning: meet-sad ig, mentions of death, grief, injuries, Resistance (war), reader is sensitive to the Force (implied), hurt/comfort (?), flirting, Poe is slightly high for medical reason, pining... it's still mostly fluff

It is technically set during and after Rise of the Skywalker.

A/N: I haven’t written, especially in English which isn’t my first language, in a while so it’s probably a bit rough. I also never wrote for the Starwars franchise before so yeah… Let me know what you think! 

On ao3

On Ajan Kloss

Leia had left you only a few days ago. Everyone felt her absence and missed her dearly. Some took it worse than others: Chewie wasn’t doing good, barely interacting with anyone anymore and most of the pilots and strategists were in shambles and had a hard time keeping up what she left.

You, as well as a few others, still felt her presence which was probably worse. You had turned around multiple times in the last few days, hearing her voice calling your name or feeling her hand on your shoulder. You could almost hear her whispers of advice and encouragement. 

But the Resistance had to go on: that’s what she’d have wanted. Due to her natural selfness and kindness, she’d have wanted the team to go on and finish what she had started. 

To do so, you had decided to take on more shifts at the medical center so that others could take some time off, collect themselves or prepare for the next move of the Resistance. 

You had just finished a 12-hour shift. 

As you stepped outside, your senses were on alert, as usual since you joined the Resistance. You were on alert all day and all night, especially since losing your General. 

This time though, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was hurt nearby and could need your help. So, when in the dark, under the seven moons, you caught a glimpse of someone, a human body, laying on the hard floor, between tall ferns and plants, at the edge of the dense forest ten meters away. Your breath got caught up in your throat. 

“Hey! You good?” you shouted, worry apparent in your voice. 

You couldn’t lose someone else. You walked toward the person. They still weren’t responding. 

“Hey! Is everything alright?” you asked, almost shifting to medic mode as you were only a few meters away. 

You arrived on top of their head and were struck by their face. Beautiful soft red lips, sharp jaw with a 5 o'clock shadow, handsome face, no injury except a small cut on his right eyebrow and dark brown doe-like eyes looking up at you in surprise. 

Poe Dameron. 

The dauntless flyboy. The best pilot of the Resistance. The Poe Dameron. The new General. Who you had only seen from afar, during the reunion or the few instances where he came around the clinic, which were rare.

“Are you okay?” you asked, still analyzing him for any sign of injury or pain. 

“What? Yes, I’m fine,” he answered in a hoarse voice, wide-eyed. 

No, he wasn’t, your gut told you. You knew he was the hurt person you felt but he wouldn’t admit it so you couldn’t do much. It was more internal than external, almost intimate.

It was a wound to the heart. 

“What are you doing here?” you continued with your questions, as he sat up and turned to look at you out of politeness. 

“I needed a breather… but I think I fell asleep,” he said sheepishly, big brown tired eyes avoiding yours now. 

“It’s alright, you work a lot, General. I’m glad you found sleep even if it was on the edge of a tropical forest.” You gave a little smile, honest and kind. 

“I bet I looked scary from afar,” He tried a small joke, his hand on his neck.

“That you did. I thought someone passed out.” 

“It’s kind of what happened.” 

“I see,”  you whispered with your medically trained brain: he was probably dealing with insomnia, grief and was overworked,“can I accompany you to your room?” 

“Wow, not so quick! Invite me to dinner first,” he smirked.

“I’m just trying to make sure you don’t unexpectedly fall asleep on your way.” 

“That’s very nice of you, Doc. But truly, I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer, if that’s alright with you?” He asked rhetorically, with a playful eyebrow raise.

“Sure, just be careful of the animals living in the forest, you look like a five-course meal to them.”

“Only to them?” He wiggled his eyebrows, still a playful smirk on his face. 

You left out a breathy laugh. 

“Whatever. Have a lovely night General.” You bid your goodbye as you turned around to leave him alone. He probably needed sleep and time alone anyway.

“You can stay if you want.” 

The proposition left his lips too quickly; he didn’t think twice before asking. You turned around to see him still seated, patting the spot next to him. You nodded and went to sit next to him, on the fresh, moon lit hard floor. 

He needed sleep and maybe someone next to him. 

You talked for a while under the stars. You were doing your best at avoiding the subject of his work and Leia as much as possible. He seemed somehow relieved and grateful with brighter eyes and an easy smile. His shoulders were slightly less tense as he stole a few glances your way. 

When you started to fall asleep, he ended up walking you to your tent and promised to get to his ship safely for the rest of the night.

The next day, almost everyone left for Exegol. They were led by General Finn and General Poe, following Rey’s track but you had to stay behind to take care of the injured and sick at the base. 

The first ships arrived hours later, and you were back at making sure everyone was alright. You were worried sick before as you waited for everyone to come back victorious and alive. Now that the ships were landing back on the planet, you were back on heavy duty, running around.

After a while, you came back inside the clinic which was bustling with activity. 

You were on your way to the reserve to get more gauze to have on you at all times. You also wanted to make sure your team were doing alright with their patients when you finally saw awake and breathing Poe, laying on a stretcher as you passed one of the slightly more secluded rooms with an ajar door. 

One of your colleagues was already by his side, visibly attending his vitals.

“Hey beautiful !” he shouted when he spotted you a second after you did. 

Your eyes widened at the word, as he excitedly pointed at you with one of his hands. His hair was a mess, his suit was off his upper-half, leaving full sight on the old off-white undershirt he had underneath.

“General, glad to see you in one piece.” You smiled brightly, honestly relieved as you approached his stretcher.

They defeated the Last Order but at a heavy cost: a lot of your teammates and co-workers weren’t coming back. You didn’t even want to think precisely about the numbers of lives’ lost but you were sincerely glad Poe came back.

“Oh, you have no idea how I am glad to see you ! I missed you, Doc -” He dared to pout, eyes big but glassy -“You look absolutely heavenly under those lights.” His voice sounded far away, like a thought accidentally spoken, a little dreamy.

You frowned. You didn’t know him much but it seemed very unlike himself to throw compliments at an acquaintance, in public, right after a very difficult battle against the First Order. He was still staring at you and only you with his face relaxed but slightly clammy skin. 

“What did you give him ?” You turned to your colleague, who had finished analyzing his vitals on the machine next to his stretcher. 

“Painkiller, Doctor. His shoulder was dislocated, so we had to put it back in place.” 

“Does he have any other injuries ?” 

“Eh I’m here, love, please talk to me.” He reached for you with a wince but you had to ignore him for the sack of professionalism.

“Nothing internal luckily, but a few bruises on his abdomen. His left wrist is sprained but he should be fine after some rest,” your colleague answered, as professional as possible as they were looking at both Poe and you with a lifted eyebrow. 

“Thank you, you can go, I’m going to keep an eye on him.” 

Your colleague nodded and left quickly. You waited a second for them to be gone before you turned your attention to Poe, who was still laying here, looking at you like you were his hero.

“How are you, General?” you asked as you reached for the machine next to him that your colleague had just checked.

“Like on a cloud. And I know what I’m talking about, I'm a pilot.” He took a deep breath, still out of it. “One day, I’m gonna take you on a ride in the cloud.” 

You smiled : he might be a little high because of the painkiller but you were confident that he would be embarrassed once the effect wore off. “Okay big guy, time to get you bound up.” 

“Oh yeah babe, I’d love that.” 

You held back a laugh as much as possible and looked around the room for what you needed. He needed something to hold his swollen sprained wrist and some kind of splint for his left shoulder.

You worked on his wrist then had to maneuver him slightly to do his splint. It just hadn’t been working, as he tried to reach for your hand just to hold it. 

As the painkillers were starting to wear off, he groaned as you tried to maneuver him around. You ended up tying the makeshift splint around his neck and you tried not to let your finger linger too long. You still noticed a light shiver from him, probably from the cold of the room. 

“You’re good to go, General. Just take it easy for a while.” 

He turned around to look deep into your eyes and thanked you sincerely, a slight blush on the apple of his cheeks. He stood up, a little less strong on his feet than usual, his half undone orange suit around his hips. 

“Hum… I know it’s unprofessional but would you… Would you mind helping me get…Get this back on?” he asked sheepishly, avoiding your gaze as his neck and cheeks reddened by the seconds. 

It wasn’t really on your job description but you had completely forgotten to tie the splint over his suit. 

“No, don’t worry.” You smiled softly. “I should’ve taken care of that earlier.”

You stepped forward, getting way closer to him, clearly in his personal space. His body was warm, his skin dewy. His breath hitched as you reached for his suit around him. He was staring, watching your every move.You were careful to not touch any possible bruises on his chest as you carefully helped him get it back on, also cautious of  his left shoulder and wrist.

You finally left out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding when you zipped his suit up, not high enough to cover the chain with a ring he was wearing around his neck. It looked like a wedding ring but you didn’t say anything before stepping away. 

“You’re finally good to go this time,” you announced, with a professional smile. 

“Thanks Doc,” he replied but didn’t move, still staring at you as you cleaned around the room.

“Are you alright ?” 

“Yeah I-...”

“Can I help you with anything ?” 

He opened his lips but didn’t respond, visibly deep in his thoughts, his brows furrowed.

“No, not really, I was just… wondering.”

You turned to him, giving him your full and undivided attention. He looked great especially for a man who just returned from war. Despite the splint holding his left arm and his clammy skin, with his disheveled dark hair and big brown eyes, he looked a little shy and absolutely adorable.

“What are you gonna do, now that the war is over ?,” he finally asked in a whisper.

“Oh..” You let out, taken a bit aback.  

It was a good question. As part of the Resistance since Leia rebuilded it, all you ever wanted was for the war to be won and over. You didn’t really know what you were going to do: it was too recent, too fresh. There was still so much to do to repair what the First Order had done. So you spoke truthfully. 

“I don’t know yet but I just can’t leave the Resistance when there’s still so much to do. I think I’ll still have to follow the orders of our Generals.”

He sighed out of near relief at your words. “I’m glad that we’ll be able to still count on you.” 

“You bet,” you chuckled under your breath, his starry eyes not missing a second of your expression, “Now go celebrate, it’s your victory too, General.” 

“You can call me Poe.” He offered with kind eyes and a smirk but his right hands scratching the back of his neck was a clear sign of shyness.

“Okay Poe, now get out of here before the entire squad of pilots comes looking for you.” 

He seemed to hesitate but after a last look at your encouraging eyes, he left with a warmer heart.

On Naboo

After the defeat of the Last Order, the ones in the Resistance could go back to their lives or finally start living their own lives. However, most of the Resistance was still active, reunited in an old base on Naboo, focused on rebuilding nations and democratie around the galaxies and making sure the First Order was finally in the past.

You were still working as a medic for most of the time but truly, your assistance wasn’t very much needed: the usual violence under the war was now rarer and the kids you trained during the war were doing an incredible job.

After long negotiations, the Generals personally insisted that you’d step up in a strategic position. That was how you ended up in the commander room, next a worried fellow strategist and across Finn, talking to Rose’s hologramm.

You had been feeling a disturbance all day, like an instinct that something, somewhere, was wrong but you couldn’t identify precisely what. You had been on your toe all day, looking for the slightest hint that something was going south like you felt through the Force.

Poe walked in when Rose bid farewell and promised to come back to the base soon. The room fell silent and you turned your head to find his eyes already on you, offering you a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He stood in his usual white bottom down shirt but with a very serious face. 

“Rose is coming back as soon as possible from Esseles, no concret trace of the First Order and the locals were supportive and helpful,” Rey provided as a filler for the reunion he had just missed. 

“That’s great,” Poe started, leaning his shoulder on a wall. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans but with his brows furrowed, tensed shoulders and clenched jaw, he was the most stressed you’ve seen him in a while.  “Then it seems that I’m gonna be the bearer of bad news. We have reasons to believe there are recents traces of the First Order's sbires on Fondor.” 

“In the Tapani sector ?” Finn asked as he grew more agitated after Poe’s announcement. In a second, he was already looking through the maps for an itinerary.

“The old Imperial manufacture ? Are the guards alright ?” you continued, eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

It was it, the disturbance you’ve been feeling.

The council, made of the head of every department of the Resistance, had decided to send a small squad of Resistance guards in strategic places, Fondor being one of them. It was supposed to be only prevention, an easy surveillance job.

“They sent the alert but we haven’t been able to reach them since,”Poe informed all of you.  

The silence fell for a few seconds in the room before Rey and you stood up as one person. 

“We have to go,” she said, fists clenched. 

“We need to gather a team.,” you added, not missing a beat as Rey and you shared a knowing glance. 

“I already called our other best pilots. Rey and I will leave with them as soon as everyone is ready.”

Since Finn and Poe both became Generals, they usually didn’t go to the same mission together, just to make sure that the Resistance still had a general in case things got ugly. 

“How many ?” Finn asked, eyes still on the maps.

“Five fighter aircrafts, plus Rey’s and mine.” 

“Good, I expect constant communication then. Meeting dismissed.” Finn finished, tense as if he was going to the mission himself because he was sending his two of his favorite people of the galaxy.

You were already on your feet, walking at a fast pace to catch up with Poe. You were feeling restless. You needed to go with them.

“Eh Poe !” He turned around, a black curl falling softly on his forehead as he looked at you with his deep dark eyes and a glimpse of surprise. 

“Hi, love,” he greeted you like he usually did, stopping everything to give you his undivided attention despite the situation.

“Can I come, in case someone is in need of medical assistance?”

“No.” In a second, his jaw was clenched again and the inviting doe-eyes became harder. 

“What ? Why?” You were genuinely taken aback by his sudden change of demeanor. 

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head, his longer curls bouncing with the force of his movement. By the second, you saw his entire body language close, arms strongly crossed over his chest, accentuating his broad shoulders. He felt distant, difficult to reach, even through the Force, like never before.

“Why ?” You were even more baffled. It was the first time he acted this stubbornly with you, even when he insisted on you joining the Council as the head of the medical department. 

“You’re too important, too needed here. I-... We can’t risk losing you.”

“What are you talking about ? You’re sending Rey, who could be the fricking Last Jedi of the galaxy and yourself, our co-general and best pilot. If anything, we can’t risk losing you both,” you pleaded, passionately, not catching any sense or deeper meaning of his words or attitude.

“That’s not happening, you’re not going.” His jaw, shoulders and eyes softened when he met your eyes and saw the fire behind them. As usual the effect of looking at you and only you was instantaneous, it was like his heart was lighter. 

“Please, Poe, you know I’m the most qualified medic for this mission. I won’t disturb you guys, you can trust me.” 

“Oh, I trust you, I really do,”  he started, staring at you, desperate for you to get his point, “I know you’d be incredible on the field because that’s who you are but truly, I wouldn’t be able to focus on the mission in your presence, knowing this could put you in harms’ way. It’s not happening on my watch.” 

“I’ve been part of the Resistance since I was a teenager !” You rolled your eyes, in disbelief, not really hearing his defense because it wasn’t the clear autorisation you had expected. “I can do it ! I’ve been doing it for years !” 

“I’m sorry, love, it’s not gonna happen. I gotta be selfish on this one.” A last glance at your face as he murmured, only for you to hear and he turned around, leaving after Rey in the direction of the aircraft hangar.

A kid you trained ended up going as the medic on the mission instead of you. You were pissed, then annoyed and at the end of the day, when Rey announced that they had arrived on sight and that the guards were made prisoners, you were insanely worried. It was unfair, you should’ve been there: it was your job, your duty, your calling. 

You were seated in the mission control room, in direct communications with every single person on this mission, including Poe, who stepped up as a leader as always. As you heard his low voice murmure indications to fellow pilots, you thought back on what he said. 

I gotta be selfish. 

Poe, despite his fly-boy and reckless reputation, was a very thoughtful and passionate individual. He was very empathic, loved the Resistance as his family and would do anything for the greater good. 

So basing his refusal of your presence on a mission on his selfishness was surprising. Because selfishness wasn’t a word that came to your mind when thinking of him. Hot-headed, intelligent, sensible, charming. But not selfish. He became the general of the Resistance after the passing of the woman he admired and decided to share the title with the person he trusted the most with the best interest of the Resistance in mind. He was far from being selfish. 

Then what would be his own interest in getting you out of this mission anyway? It wasn’t like you’d disturb him in any way. 

I wouldn’t be able to focus on the mission in your presence.

Oh…

You finally realized. Behind his words were only pure, heartfelt sentiments: deep love and selfless care for you. 

****

You hated waiting. You were a medic, always on your toe and in the heat of the action, even if it was a little far from the actual combat. You were always doing something but now, there was nothing to do except waiting for them to come back home. 

You knew the mission was a success, the guards were released and the remnant of the Last order were arrested.  

During the journey back, the communication had been disconnected. You hadn’t heard from the team in a while. Way too long for your liking. And you were too stressed to focus on anything else. 

“They’re here!” Everyone in the cafeteria jumped on their feet but you were too deep in your thoughts to move as quickly. What if something happened and you couldn’t do anything ? You always felt like you could do more to help the Resistance and felt left aside. 

You walked to the overcrowded hangar, worriness clouding your thoughts. 

Through the crowd, your eyes met Poe’s like he was already looking for you when you came in but he was surrounded by a lot of people as usual so you tried to look for everyone else, counting in your head to make sure the eight people of the intervention team were back. Slowly but surely, your anxiety subdued when you spotted the familiar faces. 

Relieved, you turned around to head to your quarter when a masculin voice called your name, loudly despite the chattering crowd. In an instant, Poe stood before you, visibly exhausted by the mission, in his orange suit he always managed to look beautiful in. He looked at you with a myriad of emotions you couldn’t quite identify but one stood out: affection. 

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he blurted out, sounding a little breathless, “I shouldn’t have let my personal feelings interfere with the mission. It was stupid, especially as a general. I’m so sorry.” 

“Poe…” You whispered, stepping a little closer to him and completely forgetting about the world around you. He looked so exhausted, his dark brown eyes so sincere and his shoulders slumped by the weight of everything. 

You didn’t know what you took over when you opened your arms with a kind but shy smile. Before you could think twice or retract your wordless offer, Poe crashed into your arms, his strong arms around your waist as he rested his head in your hair and neck. You embraced him, protecting him from the watchful glaces by closing your arms around him. 

You stayed there for a while, not talking, just in each other's arms, relieved and loved. It could’ve been weird, with everyone around you but for some reason, it felt like you two were alone together. In your own bubble. 

You two were walking around the base, without any purpose other than staying together and avoiding the crowd. In a large empty corridor, as you could see the door of your room a few meters away, Poe suddenly stopped, his eyes never leaving you.

“Are you alright ?” you worried, turning around as he stood there, hands twitching, resisting the pull he felt toward you.  

“I don’t want to spend another minute without you knowing how I feel,” he declared with sparkly eyes, running a hand through his messy dark brown hair, “I care about you. So much I can’t even begin to explain. I’m just sorry I showed it like that before the mission, by rejecting you...”

“It’s fine, Poe. I get it.” You reached forward, hesitantly placing your hands on his chest, looking in his eyes in earnest.  

“I love you. I love you more than anything else in this galaxy,” he confessed, cupping your jaw in his hand like you were the most precious jewel he had ever led his eyes on, “You are my friend, an essential part of our team but I wish for you to be more than that. I want you to be my love, my partner and my future. You have my entire heart in your hand and I want you to keep it forever. I love you, truly and deeply.”

You couldn’t stay here gasping. Bursting with emotions, you reached forward, by the neckline of his shirt to kiss him with passion, murmuring “i love you” to his lips.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars writing #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron imagine #my writing

[pha5ed]

Situationship || LifeSteal SMP

type :: mostly angst, small fluff

tw/cw :: none

members :: parrot, spoke

Parrot

Best friends that like each other

You two have been best friends for literal ages

The second you met you were inseparable

Everything you did, you guys did together

If one of you was seen without the other, people would ask “Where’s Parrot?” “Where’s Y/N?”

You would constantly get asked if you’re dating or not

Parrot and you would awkwardly laugh it off and say that you’re just friends and nothing more

But you always hoped that he would admit that he liked you too

Both of you knew each other so well that you already knew that a romantic relationship wasn’t the right move at the moment

Going to college, doing YouTube, family issues, and all of that was in the way of a possible relationship

But even though you knew a relationship would be hard to maintain, why not do it?

The tension between you two was growing more and more as you both got older

And also, you were slowly getting hurt from this tension

Seeing Parrot talk to other people made your heart twist in a way you didn’t know was possible

Your other friends would make comments saying things like, “If you wont take him, I will”

You’ve never felt a more gut-wrenching feeling than hearing that sentence leave your friend’s lips

Telling your friend she can’t have him would make you seem possessive and clingy

But telling your friend yes meant risking the chance of losing your best friend and crush

You thought you were completely alone and that it was a one sided relationship

But Parrot thinks the same exact thing

Every time he saw you with another guy talking, he’d instantly get the urge to drag you away

Although it was cocky to think, Parrot knew that no one would be able to compare to the chemistry you two have

He wants to confess so badly, to finally release all of the pent up emotions he feels

But he’s terrified of the idea of you rejecting him

He would never want to lose you as a friend, you were one of the best people in his life

One day, he will get the balls to confess

But right now, you two are basically dating but without a title or promised commitment

But you both know you’ll stay committed to each other :)

Spoke

Exes that are still friends

The idea of having beef with someone doesn’t sit right with Spoke

Your relationship didn’t end for awful reasons, just a lot of differences and outside issues

Of course, you two took space from each other after the break up

But randomly, Spoke sent you a message saying he wants to be friends and drop the awkwardness

You two shared the same friend group so your break up kinda made the group a bit rocky

He made it clear he doesn’t expect any forgiveness, kindness, or even a friendship but just enough courtesy to not be awkward with your friend group

You agree to what he said and the group slowly repairs itself

But as the group fixes itself and got closer, so did you and Spoke

At first you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn’t help but fall for him all over again

He always made you cry from laughing so hard

Whenever you were a dollar or two short for something, he’d always pay the rest for you

He’d always save you a seat next to him whenever it was crowded

And if it was too crowded, he’d always give you his seat

You guys went from no contact to group hang outs to him walking you home

You’re not sure how he did it, but he snuck himself back into your life

He did everything he used to do when you two were dating, except without any physical affection

And you didn’t want to say it, but you missed the hugs, kisses, everything

How could he act like this was all so normal when he’s literally saying goodbye to your parents and your little siblings?

It got to the point where you needed to distance yourself from him or else you would fall too hard

You love Spoke, he was one of the kindest and funniest people you’ve ever met

But you were scared that liking him again meant that your friendship would be over

You missed him so much while you two went no contact, you can’t imagine having to relive that

So you both stick with this relationship, where you both act like you’re dating except with no title

It confuses the fuck out of the friend group but they accept it

Maybe one day you’ll date again or maybe you’ll realize it’s not the right time for you too

#lifesteal smp #mcyt #parrot x reader #spoke x reader #parrotx2 x reader #spokeishere x reader #parrot #parrotx2 #spokeishere #spoke #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #lifesteal fanfic #lifesteal smp fanfic #lifesteal x reader #lifesteal smp x reader #reader insert #x reader #situationships

[bellysoupset]

OMG could we get a fic with Jonah and Luke where one of them is sick and the other is stuck being a begrudging caretaker because for some reason there is no one else around to help? Do they end up becoming more sympathetic to the sickee, or does this fuel the fire of their frienemy vibes? Also in the concussion fix Jonah is a total sympathy puker so it would be fun to play with that dynamic when he has to take care of a sickee. I love love LOVE your writing so much and your new characters’

I LOVE THIS ASK! Bad caretaker is such a Vibe. Thank you so much! There's a mention of scat, but we gloss over it real fast.

Lucas was not too proud to admit when he had fucked up. Today, specifically, he had fucked up Big. BIG. Time.

It was his high school class reunion, except well, he had grown up rich, which meant fancy boarding schools and what not. Bella had taken one look at the hot embossed invitation, raised her eyebrows and started cackling at him.

It didn't matter how much he begged she tagged along, she had shaken her head vehemently and said "being stuffed in a fancy hotel half world across from here, with your rich prick ex-friends? Sounds like hell, thanks."

Which was why they weren't currently speaking, because he had gotten pissy over it - high school and his family were always a delicate matter, his girlfriend wasn't exactly the most gentle person. That in itself was bad enough, but to add salt to the injury, Jonah was tagging along.

Jonah was the son of some maybe-probably-corrupt plastic surgeon and they had done all of school together, so their rivalry and frenemies status went back all the way to kindergarten. Once they had RSVP from the same location, their boarding school people had sent them matching travel plans, much to their chagrin.

Jonah was easily the person Lucas knew for the longest time, having met Vince and Bell in college, but that didn't mean they got along at all.

Finally, to wrap this package of shit up, Lucas was fairly sure last night's teriyaki chicken had been bad. He had initially thought his lunch wasn't settling because of nerves, but as he sat next to Jonah on the first class seat, the more he was growing aware he had been very, very wrong.

His gut was burbling under his hand, like boiling water and letting out all types of gurgles and whines. He was so grateful Jonah was going out of his way to ignore him, with headphones on, because he wasn't sure he could survive the humiliation.

His intestines cramped and he pressed his lips in a tight line, fighting not to groan. He clenched his fists, looked out of the plane's window. Fuck his life, fuck his family for saying he should go to this stupid party for appearances, fuck him for being unable to say 'no', fuck, fuck fuck-

His stomach gurgled and Lucas clutched at it, clawing at his seatbelt desperately and rushing up. He nearly lost his balance, had to grab on the seat to ground himself and Jonah looked up, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised.

"Atwood?"

Lucas winced, "I'm fine."

"Uhm," Jonah shrugged, slipping his headphones back on and turning his attention back to his book.

Lucas rushed through the rows to the bathroom. First class or not first class, no airplane bathroom was ever decent. It was definitely bigger than the tuna can he had been one when flying to Vince's family's house, but still claustrophobic and smelling like bleach.

"Jesus fucking chr-" Lucas groaned, sitting down on the toilet and clutching at his gut. He was bloated, much more than he remembered ever being before and it gurgled fiercely under his hand, pressing against his button up.

He sat there for thirty minutes and by the time he managed to make it out of the bathroom, he was starting to feel shaky on his legs. Whatever, he had played with an upset stomach before, he'd live.

He made it back to the seat, falling on it with a groan and turning his face when Jonah threw him an inquisitive look. Lucas curled up around his middle, looking out of the window to the passing clouds... His gut grumbled again and cold sweat started collecting on his brow. A cramp seized his intestines and now, to make matters worse, nausea joined in.

He licked his dry lips, planted his forehead to the cold plane window and a flight attendant came over a minute later, "Mr. Atwood?" she called, all polite, "is everything alright? Can I get you anything, sir?"

Humiliated, Lucas straightened up and shook his head, "just... Just a water, please."

Jonah turned to face him, "what's wrong?" he said dryly, squinting. Lucas rolled his eyes.

"None of your businesses."

He only had... What an hour more of flight? He could do it.

The nice flight attendant from before came back with a water bottle, but he didn't have time to drink it, beelining back to the bathroom once more.

Fifteen minutes later, he felt empty. With a rumbly, crampy belly that kept sending up burps, but blessedly his lower guts were empty. He fell back down on the seat and chugged at the water, already feeling dehydration start to get to him, if the way he was shaky and dizzy was anything to go buy.

The water quelled his insane thirst and soothed his parched throat, but did nothing good for his stomach. It had been already grumbly and unhappy, but now with an entire water bottle chugged in it... Yikes.

He muffled a belch on his hand and noticed Jonah inching away from him, a big frown on his face, "disgusting, Lucas."

"Sorry, I can't help it," he groaned, cupping his bloated stomach right where it now sported a curve, "my gut's upset."

"Well, keep it to yourself," Jonah rolled his eyes, then opened a pleasant smile as the cute flight attendant came back. Bright smile that immediately diminished at her words.

"I'm sorry, it seems there's some bad weather in the alps," she explained apologetically, "we're going to have a delay of about an hour."

God, no, Lucas almost said out loud. Jonah made a face that voiced his thoughts.

"An hour? But our party-"

"We're contacting other airports to check if we may land there. We'll also be making arrangements for your transportation from there..." the poor girl was definitely older than them for about a handful of years, but she sounded so small, Lucas felt bad for her. It wasn't her fault.

"In the meantime, would you like to take a look at our dinner menu?"

Lucas shook his head no, while Jonah nodded enthusiastically. He ordered fish with some lemon cream or whatever. Lucas reached in his hand baggage and fished out his own headphones, crossing his arms to his chest and forcing his eyes carefully on the horizon and the stormy clouds.

He prayed for no turbulence, because the uneasy feeling in his stomach was getting worse and he wasn't sure he could take being rattled around like some kid's toy.

Jonah poked him and Lucas forcefully teared his eyes away from the window. The sky had gone dark, be it because of the weather or the sunset.

"What?"

"You should eat," Jonah said, in his driest voice, "you remember last year's fundraiser, don't you? They never serve anything decent in those parties."

Lucas would normally be touched by the hint of concern he heard in Jonah's voice, moved by all the shared history they had, but not tonight. Just the thought of eating something made him want to hurl.

"Not hungry, told you my stomach's upset," he said, more snappy than he meant to sound. Jonah squinted at him.

"Do not barf, Atwood," he said strongly and Lucas groaned, planting his elbows to his knees and hiding his face in his hands. The smell of Jonah's dinner certainly wasn't helping.

"I'm trying not to, you're not helping."

"Uh-" He could hear Jonah's slight hesitation, "well keep trying."

"Thanks, go fuck yourself," Lucas sighed, biting down a burp that stung his throat, all acid.

Five minutes later the plates were taken away, more water bottles passed around- The plane shook and Lucas planted his hand over his lips.

Fuck.

"Don't," Jonah glared, like he could boss Lucas' stomach into behaving.

A rolling belch passed through his lips and Lucas shook his head, "false alarm."

"I hate you so fucking much," The other man groaned, looking away a little frantically, in search of another empty seat. There was none.

"I'm not trying to make you hurl, trust me," Lucas groaned, rubbing his stomach and starting to feel antsy in his formal attire. This had been a horrible idea.

He could've been home, curled up with Bell, while she rubbed his upset tummy. But nooo... He let out another wet belch and gulped down, feeling his stomach's contents slosh. All that water.

"Jonah-" He moaned, reaching to squeeze the guy's arm. Jonah glared at him, alarmed.

"Atwood, no. No-"

"I think I need a bag."

"Lucas-"

"Now," he gagged in his hand and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will his stomach in place. They'd get murdered for tossing cookies in the first class-

He couldn't help it. The next burp that he attempted to fight off, but that came out anyway, brought with it chunks of his lunch and Lucas snapped his mouth shut, trying to hold the puke in but-

He retched.

Vomit covered his black slacks and he heard as Jonah frantically called out the flight attendant, for more than one bag, cleaning supplies, a parachute-

Lucas whimpered as his stomach squeezed again and more vomit spilled between his fingers, since he was keeping his hand vehemently planted over his mouth still.

"Oh dear-" the flight attendant from before squealed, coming back with an already open blue barf bag. Lucas grabbed it with a shaky hand and then buried his face in it.

Faintly, he heard Jonah gagging harshly to his side and the flight attendant attempting to sooth him. His friend rushing up and all but stumbling to the bathroom, in a ridiculous attempt to save his dignity.

Lucas puked again, now allowing his body to get rid of all its contents. Please, let it be the last one.

It wasn't. His little barf bag was getting full when Jonah returned, looking grey in the face and woozy.

"Fuck. You."

"Ugh-" Lucas groaned, burping in the bag wetly, "Jonah, I need anothe-er-" he burped again, hiccuped, "fuck- anotherbag..." his words slurred together, thick with the nausea.

"Here," Jonah held it open in front of him, taking the other one with a retch of his own and snapping it closed, placing it on the ground. Lucas's initial spray was mostly contained to his lap, some chunks on his italian shoes-

Jonah gagged again, turned his face away and whimpered. He heard Lucas let let out another torrent of vomit, wondered how in the fuck did that much even fit inside of him.

"Jon-" Lucas called to him, "Jonah."

"Don't-" he groaned, eyes squeezed shut, wrapping an arm around his stomach that was flipping around. He regretted dinner, regretted ever fucking meeting Lucas.

"Jon, dude, you need a-" Lucas cut himself with another gross burp, one that sounded like he was about to hurl again, "a bag."

"Fuck, I don't need your-" his stomach surged up to his throat and he bit down his lip so strongly it nearly bled. Jonah squeezed his stomach. He cursed, "just- Just stop."

"I'm trying," Lucas sounded exhausted, his voice distorted by how sick he was feeling, "I can't- uGhuurp- Fuck. I'm- Fuck-" suddenly Lucas was standing again, ruined pants and puke bag clutched in his hands, his face milky white.

Jonah gagged, but his confusion nearly overrode his nausea, "the fuck are you doing, Lucas?! Sit-"

"Bathroom," Lucas, clutched at his gut with his other hand, "God, move Jonah, get out of the fucking way-"

He promptly obeyed, wincing away and trying not to feel like an asshole as his stomach calmed down now that Lucas and his puke covered pants and bag were gone.

"Mr. Banks...?"

"Ugh," Jonah groaned, gulping down, "Amy, right...? Amy, can you bring us something to clean up, please?"

By the time Lucas was back, now with wet but clean pants, Jonah was comfortably settled on his seat and the flight attendant rushed to his friend, trying to dot on him. She brought some pepto and more water, though now Lucas only took the smallest of sips.

He sat back down gingerly, whole body shaking and leaned his head back, "I feel awful."

"Teaches you to stop eating from garbage places."

"Just because it's not a Michelin restaurant, doesn't mean it's a garbage place," Lucas moaned softly, then leaned in and planted his forehead on Jonah's shoulder, causing the other man to stiffen.

"Atwood? What are you doing?"

"I feel miserable, please don't be a dick for five minutes?"

"You made me hurl, who are you calling dick, dickhead?" Jonah rolled his eyes but relaxed back against his seat, "if you vomit on me, I'm going to murder you and I'm not joking."

"Not gonna hurl," Lucas grumbled, his voice hoarse, "empty."

"Sure," Jonah rolled his eyes, not buying it, "get some rest, we'll be on the ground soon."

"Yeah, can't wait to puke on the dean," Lucas bit back sarcastically and Jonah winced in sympathy.

"Please, as if I'm letting you go to the party when you can barely stand. I'm not that much of a dick."

"Could've fooled me," Lucas sighed, yawning and muffling a burp against Jonah's tux jacket, "don't tell the others."

"Hell no, I'm telling everyone."

#emetophilia #food poisoning #lucas atwood #mywriting #jonah banks

[simplytheevebest]

Hiya!

I've been absolutely obsessed with your Farah the Fern AU and I love every single chapter of it!😍

I've been talking to the lovely @faytalepsy about it and she suggested I prompt this thought I had to you. When we were talking I got the idea that what if the kids (and Farah) decided to prank Saul by putting lots of identical ferns in the office and hiding her amongst it, taking great joy out of it when he struggles to find the real Farah the fern.

Thank you for that brilliant AU!

You beautiful evil genius, I love it

Sorry Saul.

Enjoy this muse while it lasts lol I'm churning these out but writer's block is a sneaky salty bitch.

On Ao3

Farah the Fern Masterlist

~

Part Six: Finding Farah

"Sky!"

"What've you done?"

Bloom pops a cherry tomato in her mouth, brows raised with far more innocence than they both know she possesses. Sky raises his eyebrows right back at his girlfriend, both breaking with matching grins.

"I don't know why you're asking me," the redhead retorts, "It's you he's calling."

"Then you've framed me."

"I would never," Bloom gasps in mock offense, leaning back in the plush desk chair outside Miss Dowling's office. Sky lobs a tomato of his own at her forehead just as Silva steps through the door to the inner office; Bloom stifles her giggles by biting her lips, eyes still wide and over-compensating for the misdeeds the headmaster has yet to know about.

Sky turns to the man, who doesn't look overly cross -no more than usual- and pulls out the one trick he knows might get him out of the trouble Bloom's caused.

"Yeah dad?"

The term of endearment throws Saul a moment and he blinks, no less shocked on the twentieth, thirtieth, hundredth time Sky's uttered it in recent months; the scowl that twists his face isn't because of the term itself, but because he knows why Sky's used it.

"You're not in trouble. Unless you should be."

"Not that I know of," Sky flicks an accusatory glance in Bloom's direction. "What's up?"

"I need you to take over the first year training this afternoon. Does that work?"

"Yeah, no problem. Why?"

"Because I'm liable to kill one of them if you don't," Saul grits out. He catches the bag of crisps Sky tosses at him almost without looking, speaking around a mouthful in a habit Sky's never picked up, but Bloom knows all too well. "Snot nosed brats, the lot of them, worse than Dane. I need a break."

"Oh my God you're dying," Bloom blurts, and both men quirk brows at the declaration. She shrugs, "The day Saul admits he needs a break is the day you're dying. Or the world ends."

"I will revoke first name privileges," Saul threatens seriously, tossing the empty crisp bag in the trash and climbing the stairs to Miss Dowling's office on heavy, exhausted steps. "But I'm taking a break. If you need something, don't."

"Well he's not going to get it in there," Bloom mutters pointedly, and in the next second has leapt from her chair, following gleefully on his heels to bear full witness to his reaction. She's not expecting gut-busting laughter in response to what is, admittedly, a very juvenile prank. She kind of expects the exasperated groan and the burying of his face in his hands, but the unapologetic swearing is a surprise.

"Fuck's sake don't do this to me today."

Saul drags his hands down his face, scrubbing at his returned scruff and locking his exasperated gaze on the ceiling, "Where's Farah."

"Right in front of you," Bloom motions vaguely, laughter running a tremoring current through her voice.

Sky, who's been successfully kept in the dark by the exploits of his girlfriend and her willing roommates, barks a laugh the second he catches sight of the office beyond, the warm wooden walls and matching furniture disappearing beneath a veil of greenery.

"Detention for a week," Saul snaps, "A month. One day for every fern in this goddamn office, all of you."

"Wh-Me? I had nothing to do with it!" Sky protests and Saul scowls.

"Life lesson, keep better company. First name privileges, revoked. Where's my fern?"

"Hey this wasn't my idea," Bloom laughs, hands held up in surrender, "Miss Dowling wanted to test you, see if you can really tell which one is her."

Oh she did, did she? Saul internally growls, running a hand through his once-more cropped hair. On an ordinary day he might be persuaded to play their ridiculous game, but not today. He's tired. And all he wants is a drink and a vent with Farah close by. God he's so tired. How does Farah do it, run the school and keep up with all the paperwork and their students' ridiculous schemes? In comparison, what did she have him doing? Running training drills? He's in the habit of taking an hour for lunch. Farah's schedule allows fifteen minute if he's lucky.

Bloom stutters on a laugh of disbelief when Saul sits right on the rug in the center of the room, one of the limited spots of floor space not taken over by identical potted plants. He flops onto his back, hands covering his face again.

"Give me Farah or get out."

"We broke him," Bloom comments, turning to look at Sky, who's equally torn between amusement and concern at his father's distress. The redhead twists to peer behind the nearest wall of greenery, "Sorry this kind of backfired."

Saul doesn't remove his hand at the familiar light steps that stop by his head.

"I'm sorry Saul."

"You're not," he gripes, "I can hear the laughter in your voice, you're not sorry."

"It's meant to be a funny surprise."

"Hilarious," he deadpans, and only then removes his hands from his face to look up at her. Farah's hair falls in loose curls around her face and he's right: there's mirth shining in her eyes and creasing the lines around her mouth. He could stare at her all day, memorize her features like he doesn't trace them every night in his dreams. He wants to reach up and tangle his hand in that hair, cradle her face in his hands, relish this time she's solid and warm and human in front of him. But after this little stunt? He lunges for her, dragging her down to lie beside him while she laughs, joyful and carefree.

"Saul-!"

"It's funny! Hilarious! You're laughing!" He retorts as she tries and fails to escape his grip. Bloom eases back towards the door, reaching to hook Sky's sleeve, but retreating unnoticed-

"You're still getting detention," Saul lifts his head and Bloom groans, tugging Sky out behind her.

"I'll speak with him about it Bloom!" Farah calls after them, turning to rest her chin on Saul's breastbone, "It was my idea."

"Oh I knew that even before Bloom confirmed it, it's got your beautiful fingerprints all over it. And you live to torture me."

"To tease you."

"You wound me."

"You make it too easy."

Saul grins, and Farah grins back. He adjusts his grip, loosening it so he no longer traps her, only holds her against his chest.

"How long've you got do you reckon?"

"A few hours," Farah makes to get up, groaning at the protesting of her stiff limbs. When Saul refuses to let her, she raises a brow, "And I'd really rather not spend them on the floor."

"We won't," Saul promises, tugging her back down anyway, and she lets herself be tugged, "But just for a second. Just let me have this."

Farah hums, not bothering to tell him her time is his whenever he asks, whatever he asks. He already knows.

#eve best #fate the winx saga #ftws #fate winx saga #fate: the winx saga #farah dowling #saul silva #rob james collier #silrah #farah x saul #farah dowling x saul silva #farah the fern #fate fanfic

[middleearthpixie]

The Visitor

Ahhh... Armitage Summer Splash #16 - Thanks as always to @lathalea and @fizzyxcustard for providing the prompts!

Trope: Love Triangle 

Quote: “As long as you’re here.”

RA Character: John Proctor 

Relationship: Modern!John Proctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Scorned woman 

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,967

***

His secretary rapped on the door, then opened it to poke her head into his office. “Mr. Proctor? You’ve a visitor.”

He looked up from the file he’d been studying. “A visitor? Who?”

“A Miss Williams.”

His gut kinked, although he tried to keep it from showing on his face as he set down his pen and shook his head. “Tell her I’m in a meeting and am not to be disturbed.”

“Of course.” Anna bobbed her head and drew back, closing the door behind her. As he tried to focus back on his work, his gut bubbled furiously. What did she wanted from him now? She’d already cost him his marriage and nearly cost him his family. So why, nearly a year after he ended their affair, was Abigail back? Her showing up at his office was only the latest in her attempts over the last few weeks to get in touch with him. She’d called and left voicemails on his cell, on his landline, with his secretary. They went ignored. He had no desire to see or speak to her, had moved on and wanted her to do the same. 

He finished up the work on his desk and as he emerged from his office and passed by Anna, he said, “If Miss Williams shows up again, she is not to be admitted, understood?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Proctor.” She smiled up at him. “Heading out?”

“I am. I have somewhere to be by eight.”

“A hot date?”

He laughed. “Something like that.”

“Well, have fun and I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

He drew on his coat and picked up his briefcase. “You, too, Anna.”

His steps echoed through the Mueller Building’s high-ceilinged atrium, and he slowed as he caught sight of Abigail waiting in the vestibule between the sets of doors. His gut kinked as he shoved the first door open and said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“What else am I to do, when you won’t return my calls or see me?”

“Take the hint, that’s what. I told you, it’s over.”

“You say that but I don’t think you mean it.” She shot up from the narrow wood bench where she’d been sitting and reached for him. “I just need a minute, John. Just talk to me.”

He ignored her, striding through the second set of doors to step out into a beautiful late November day. Dappled sunlight spilled across the parking lot, and some of the trees still had a few their leaves left, while the others were bare and naked. Leaves that had been brilliant golds and reds and oranges were now dried up and brown, gathering along the edge of the parking lot, where the lawn rose higher than the pavement. With each pass of the wind, they scuttled across the lot, until they hit a car tire or the building itself. In another week or so, the landscapers would be around to sweep them up, but for now, they littered as far as the eye could see.

His BMW 540i sedan was parked in the far corner, and Abigail dogged him the entire way, saying, “Why won’t you just talk to me? What’ve I done that was so wrong?”

“We’ve been through this,” he said, aiming his fob at the car to unlock the door. As he reached it, he stopped and spun about. “I’ve lost enough because of you. Now, you need to leave me alone.”

“Because of me? Correct me if I’m wrong,” her dark eyes flashed with fury as she glared up at him, “but weren’t you the one who was married? I certainly wasn’t in that bed alone, now, was I?”

“Yes, I was married. And no, you were’t alone. But, that was then and this is now, and we are done.”

She grabbed his arm, her fingers clamping about him, digging into him like a falcon’s talons. “But, your divorce is final now, isn’t it? You’re free to be with whoever you want now, right?”

“I am.” He jerked his arm free and tugged open the driver’s side door. “And I’m seeing someone else, Abigail. And I am not letting you ruin this as well.”

“If that isn’t just like a man,” she growled, her eyes going narrow. “You are the one who’s married and yet, it’s my fault you can’t keep your dick in your pants!”

“Leave me alone, Abigail. I mean it.” He threw himself into the driver’s seat, turned over the engine, and without even a look up at her, whipped out of his space and took off toward the lot’s main entrance. He wanted to put as much distance between him and Abigail as possible. If he could find a way to remove her permanently from his life, he would gladly do it. 

You knew John was divorced. You’d met his three boys when things between grew serious between the two of you. They were still warming up to you, and you weren’t at all sure how long it should take, since you’d never dated a man who’d had children before. This was all new territory for you. They didn’t outright hate you, so you figured you were off to a good start, if nothing else.

You were supposed to be going away for the weekend with him. His sons were going to their mother’s and he’d suggested a trip to the lake for your first getaway together. You looked forward to it, since you rarely had a day off. Running Brewster’s Place took up so much of your time and you weren’t all that good at delegating responsibilities, but you were trying. After all, you were leaving your baby in your manager’s more than capable hands, and you promised yourself you would not obsess with checking on Kerry every hour or so.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

On Fridays, the coffee house was open until eight, and at ten of, the bell above the door chimed and you looked up to see an unfamiliar woman slip in. She was tall and slim, with dark hair pulled back into a loose bun, with just enough wispy tendrils trailing to give that adorably messy look you could never quite manage to pull off.

She came up to the counter, her dark eyes wide as she said, “Hi, can I get a large coconut coffee, light and sweet?”

“Sure.” You took a large cup from the stack, scooped a tablespoon of sugar into it, filled it a third of the way with half-and-half and then poured the coffee in. You stirred it, clapped a lid on and brought it back. “Three dollars even, please.”

The woman handed her a debit card, which went through with no trouble, and she took her receipt and her coffee to one of the tables over by the fireplace. There were only two or three other people lingering about, and Kerry was busy over in the back restocking the shelf of whole coffee beans you sold. 

At eight o’clock, the bell jingled and you smiled as John came through the doorway, handsome as ever in jeans and his Navy pea coat. He needed a haircut, his dark hair swept off to the left from the wind that whipped down along Davenport Street, which was closed to all but foot traffic. 

He smiled as you came around the corner. “A sight for sore eyes.”

“Is that so?” You closed the space between the two of you, slipping your arms about his waist and pushed up on your toes to brush his lips with a kiss. His beard came prickly soft against your cheeks, nowhere near as foreign to you now as it had been when you first began dating. Now you were more than used to the scraping and occasional beard burn in odd places. 

You broke the kiss. “The boys get off okay?”

“They did. And their mother was happy to have them for the weekend. She’s taking them to their grandparents up in Vermont to get some early season skiing in.”

“Skiing now?”

“Okemo’s season runs from November on.” 

Kerry came over then. “Hey, John. You ready for your weekend?”

“I am, indeed. I’m just waiting—” he glanced around and then his voice trailed off as he turned toward the fireplace. 

You saw his shoulders stiffen and you looked over at the woman with the light and sweet coconut coffee. “Is something wrong?”

John shook his head slowly. “No. Nothing is wrong at all.”

The dark-haired woman lowered the coffee cup and smiled. “Hi, John.”

“John?” You touched his arm. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” he told you, turning to you as he shook his head, but you didn't miss the darkness that dropped behind his blue eyes. He caught you by the hand. “Let’s just go, okay?”

“John,” Coconut Coffee called over, “I have to talk to you.”

You looked from him to her and back. “Who is that woman?”

“She’s no one—just someone I used to know.”

Your gut twisted. “Someone you used to know.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you on the way to the lake.”

“John,” the woman set her cup down and rose, “I only need a few minutes, and as long as you’re here—”

“I don’t care, Abigail,” he cut her off, shaking his head. “I don’t have a few minutes to spare, so,” he turned back to you, “are you ready?”

Despite the apprehensive flutters in your gut, you nodded and from the corner of your eye, saw Abigail scowl. Where she’d at least pretended to be friendly earlier, now she radiated pure hostility. You didn't need to be told that at one point John had been involved with her, but she wasn’t his ex-wife. You’d seen Beth Proctor several times over the course of your relationship with him and while you weren’t what anyone would call friends, she didn't seem to mind your existence.

Not like Abigail, who glared at you now as if she’d just love to plant you six feet under ground. You’d never seen such hatred in anyone’s eyes as you did in those flat dark eyes that remained trained on you. Your blood actually ran cold at the venom she shot in your direction and without thinking, you linked your fingers with his. He tightened his about yours. “Let’s go, shall we? We’ve a long drive ahead of us.”

“I don’t want to leave Kerry here alone.” You turned to Abigail. “You need to leave now. The shop is closing in two minutes.”

You expected Abigail to argue, but she merely offered up a slight smile and stood, taking her coffee with her as she strode to the door. She pushed it open, but paused, and over her shoulder said, “He’ll come back to me, you know. He always does. It’s just a matter of time before he grows bored with you, just as he did with his wife and any other woman he’s screwed. You’re not special, you know. And I am very patient.”

John’s fingers tightened about yours enough that it actually hurt and when you looked up, it was to see such a look of rage on his face—his jaw clenched, his eyes radiating fury—that for a moment, he was downright frightening.

“Stay away from me,” he told her, shaking his head. “I’m not going to keep saying it. Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t call me. Don’t come to my office. Don’t come back here.”

“You say that now. You’ll change your mind.” Abigail threw the door the rest of the way open and strolled out into the darkness with a low, mournful whistle on her lips and somehow, you knew you hadn’t seen the last of her. 

***

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Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78

#Armitage Summer Splash #Richard Armitage #John Proctor #John Proctor x Reader #John Proctor x OC #John Proctor X You #The Crucible #John Proctor AU

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: Clarity 1

She could almost see 'Obi rolling his eyes at her for getting overly enthusiastic and dropping the cloaking genjutsu that he had painstakingly taught her.

But this was fun too, in a different way.

Aiko smiled absently, tapping her big toe inside her right sandal along with the beat of a rather chipper song. 'Obi hated it, but she thought the theme song for those silly princess Fuin movies was cute. It had been stuck in her head for the last fifteen minutes or so, but she didn't mind. She ducked under what seemed to be a pathetically slow sword slice and twisted under the shocked Ame nin's raised arm to stick him in the gut with an old-fashioned kunai, literally without missing a beat in the staccato she was keeping.

"Sorry, love." She lied casually, stepping in just a little closer and giving a nice, big scoop with some serious elbow action and muscle behind it. His stomach opened up with piteous ease.

He made a choked sound and dropped his weapon with a clatter to reflexively reach for his gut. She batted one arm away with her elbow and used her free hand to grab his right wrist. Immediately she pulled it around his back so that she could brace his torso up with her forearm when his knees threatened to buckle.

In the instant where he was hanging supported by her leverage, frightened blue eyes met Aiko's turquoise eyes, silently begging for mercy.

She shrugged.

"Nothing personal." With deft motions, she pulled her blade out and made a precise jab at the pulsating artery on his upper thigh. He had a minute left by the time she extracted her blade, tops.

The gut wound would have been enough to kill him, of course, but she wasn't a sadist. This had to look messy, but there was no reason to let the man suffer for the hours it would take for intestinal bleeding to finish him.

Excess cruelty served no purpose, after all. It didn't entertain her and it didn't make her target any more dead.

She left her new friend awkwardly collapsed face-up with buckled knees on the cement floor, tucking a bit of loose hair behind her ear with the cleaner hand as she meandered through the storage facility of one of Ame's newly re-occupied border outposts. She'd never been there before, so she would be forgiven a bit of curiosity at the surroundings.

'In a desolate way, Ame is beautiful.' She took a deep breath of heavy, cold hair, feeling crisp condensation coat her lungs.

It was very grey, for lack of a better word. This was one of the few places she'd seen where a cement bunkhouse wasn't totally out of place. The rocks were grey, the long grass was a strange blue-green color she had seen in no other flora, and the sky itself was tinted from low-hanging clouds ambling with the sluggish wind.

Ame was clearly a hard place. Of course, she could have already concluded that by assessing the apparent character of the people who lived there. They were an awfully cantankerous lot, as far as she could tell. Proud and stubborn, Ame refused to admit that they needed military assistance to keep out Kumo.

They were horribly wrong, of course, but it wasn't like allies were lining up at the door to offer help. Ame really only had one country who had expressed a willingness to offer them assistance, but Konoha's help would certainly come at a steep price.

'That's what happens when you don't play well with others,' Aiko sighed, patting down a bit of frizz. 'You try to launch one little takeover of the world, and suddenly nobody wants to play with you after school'.

Not that she had any room to talk, of course, but that was beside the point. She didn't know exactly what had happened a year and a half ago, but she didn't really care, either. She'd been asked to pop over, sabotage Ame's relationship with Konoha, and stop to get milk on the way home. So there she was, slaughtering her way through the more alert sentries at various posts. Dull. But the havoc later should be fun.

She wasn't there to kill everyone, of course. It wasn't like she and 'Obi had anything against these people in particular, just the idea of Ame allying with such a large faction. Besides, it would be awfully impractical to get rid of everyone in the vicinity when she needed the breach in security to be detected soon.

Aiko kneeled to pry the lid off what proved to be a container of munitions.

Naughty, naughty. Ame had been dealing with the technology-rich countries outside of the shinobi nation-states. It wasn't a surprise, but it was good to know. She patted the crate companionably, information confirmed. It wasn't crucial, but it was nice to see that Kotaka wasn't useless after all. She made a note to put a little more faith in his reports, although she really would have preferred to know his sources.

The storage area had been a bit of a detour, but she considered it time well-spent, even though it meant she had to move that much faster to her true destination. It was probably a good idea for Ame to have their outpost separated into a few bunkers instead of as one big, internally connected building. In theory, that design protected most of the base when one section was compromised.

In practice, Aiko was mildly inconvenienced because the buildings weren't helpfully labeled but also weren't adequately guarded. She ended up in the barracks by accident, calmly holding her breath and sliding past a pale-faced duo who were talking quietly at a small table. They didn't hear her steps and they certainly didn't notice the slight friction of chakra against reality as the genjutsu wrapped around her like a silk dress let them see what they expected to see.

That was a little thrilling, to be honest. Genjutsu wasn't a strength of hers, but 'Obi had been drilling her mercilessly in using genjutsu to hide for the last month and a half. She'd spent most of that time grouching that she would never get the damn technique down and that she didn't want it anyways. Now that she was suddenly competent, Aiko found all sorts of situations where it was useful.

In other words, she was getting lazy as all hell and she probably owed her friend an apology for being a poor student.

'I'm terrible,' she thought with a thoroughly inappropriate smile at her own expense.

Hypocritical or not, the technique worked like a charm to get herself in the control center. It was pretty nice, for an office in a little outpost. That was thanks to the fact that border control had been one of Ame's greatest priorities after their dust-up with a four country alliance two years back. As a result, they had all but poured their money into the base and lit it on fire.

Feeling strangely artistic, she carefully left a sixteenth of a bloody fingerprint on the inside of the door at a height that implied someone just a little shorter than she was. That was insignificant enough to look accidental. Aiko accidentally leaned a little too close and got a nose-ful of the cloying reek of iron and fear.

'Whoo, that's gonna piss somebody off.'

The inevitable forensics team would know it was from one of their people when the sample was compared. Even Iwa could handle that kind of detective work. Ame should do fine.

She left the office mostly untouched, doing her best to imitate the movements of an agent who was pressed for time, but attempting to ensure that they left no traces. The three bodies in the warehouse would be dismissed as a distraction from the intruder's real aim, hopefully, when all was said and done.

Even if they were really clueless, Ame would only be able to conclude that someone had commissioned an intelligence gathering mission.

If they were incompetent, they would think that Iwa had been the ones to break in, which was a violation of their current but shaky treaty. Ame should be leery about that, actually. A nominal ally sneaking around was much more hazardous than a known enemy. Their closest neighbors would be on Ame's shortlist of suspects, and Aiko had spent the night in a hotel not four hours away wearing the face of an Iwagakure kunoichi. Digging would uncover that and reinforce their paranoia in regards to their northern neighbors.

But if Ame's people were as good as 'Obi hoped they were, they would think that Konoha was framing Iwa in an attempt to pry apart their alliance.

(Aiko didn't bother fretting about the possibility that they would actually figure out that a third party had attempted to frame Konoha for framing Iwagakure. If Ame worked that one out, they deserved a pat on the back, no matter how much 'Obi would scowl and stomp around).

She lazily picked papers up nearly at random, leaving her scent in case Ame would think to check what had been touched that way. It wouldn't matter that it was hers, since they wouldn't know her personally. It took a great deal of time and experience to memorize an individual scent and not just follow a trail. There was no reason for any Ame shinobi to know her off-hand. All they'd know was that a female shinobi had been poking around. She paid special attention to information on orders in regards to the other nations, holding Ame's protocol about Rock-nin at borders and the records of contract for the longest time out of personal curiosity.

It was mildly interesting to see that Ame wasn't treating Rock with more caution than they were Suna or Kiri, who were understandably peeved about their tiff in the not-so-distant past. That wasn't wise of them, was it?

'This Konan woman must not be much of a politician. Too straight forward, I think,' Aiko decided disinterestedly. It was true on the surface, at least, that it was logical to be most wary of the countries that Ame had recently engaged in armed conflict with. Rock had been the only one out of the great shinobi nations who had stayed out of that scuffle, so Ame must have decided that Iwagakure was their most probable was a one-dimensional way to look at things.

'Ugh.' She blinked back excess liquid and shook her head. Aiko felt a headache coming on. 'I should hurry out of here.'

Now that the adrenaline-filled part of the mission was over, she was losing interest. Still, the mission had to be finished. It was her job to leave the impression that Konoha was framing Rock for illegal entry that undermined Ame/Iwa relations.

Speaking of that…

Aiko dug around in the left-most pocket on her hip pouch and extracted a tiny glass bottle. She held it up to the light to see the dry corpse inside one last time.

'How on earth did he get one of these?'

She pursed her lips and shrugged, carefully tipping out one kikai bug onto the thin carpet right by the edge of the desk she knelt in front of.

The bug had died of natural causes—old age. They occasionally just did that, and fell wherever their master was. Any shinobi who looked around this room would be able to tell that there had only been one intruder, a female with a petite build. The bug clan was notoriously sneaky. So Ame wouldn't be surprised to 'discover' that an Aburame had gotten in the premises, though Ame wouldn't be pleased about it either.

'And there goes Konoha's hope of convincing Ame that the threat from an Iwa/Kumo alliance is more important than their pride,' Aiko sighed. She didn't really care one way or another, but it was a little shocking that the lives of so many people could be affected by something so fragile.

Or not. Maybe it wasn't that fragile, judging by the faint presence she was noting flicker on the edge of her awareness. Maybe Konoha had actually planned a mission like the one 'Obi was having her fake. Wouldn't that be funny?

She repressed a snort as she crossed her way across the lines of barbed wire and miles of icy marsh that made up the no-man's land between Ame and River Country. That was awfully convenient, but then, Konoha and Ame were running out of time for their respective goals.

She'd left a slight scent trail leaving Ame to River (although only an expert would be able to tell) because a Konoha nin wouldn't have gone directly through the border at Fire Country, but they wouldn't really go through Rock Country either. Nice neutral River country left plausible deniability for any party. Coulda been a Suna mission, even, if it weren't for the fact that Suna and Kiri were outright refusing to take part in Konoha's less than selfless efforts to keep Kumo from taking Ame. If Ame didn't formally ask for Konoha's protection, then Kiri and Suna couldn't be forced to take part in helping them. Konoha was crippled, until Ame pulled their collective heads out.

'Ugh, why am I wasting time thinking about this? It's not really my problem.'

Apparently, 'Obi was operating on the same wavelength as the Hokage, because there really was a Konoha-nin creeping towards Ame.

Or at least, she assumed it was a Konoha nin heading north through River. Aiko stopped leaving an intentional trail at all when she veered off course to meet with the approaching chakra signal. It would be a pain if this asshat managed to make it into the Ame border-post and do damage control.

'Like what?' Aiko snickered at her own dramatic thoughts, licking her lips. 'I don't even know how he would figure out what happened. Still, it's an unnecessary loose end.'

As soon as she saw him, she circled downwind, to the west of the traveler. He wasn't marked, but Konoha wouldn't have sent a hitai-ite on a mission like that anyway.

'No one I recognize,' Aiko thought wryly, wishing she'd made a cleaner kill earlier and hating the obvious stink on her arm and shirt. There was always a risk of running into a dog-nin when dealing with Konoha, and blood carried a strong scent.

She could have killed the sentries without the fuss, of course, but it was supposed to look like a hack job by an infiltrator who accidentally drew too much attention. Aiko hadn't had a problem with the men she'd run into, and could have ambushed them like an infiltrator should. But that didn't fit the profile she was attempting to imply. An Aburame who was canny and practiced enough to pull off a mission like this would already be well-known, and there wasn't one of those with Aiko's physical profile currently active. So she was portraying someone talented but inexperienced, a girl who managed to sneak past most of the security but had to fight for her life against a rather good Chuunin.

'This guy is definitely not a Chuunin, though. I wonder what that scarring is from. Very distinctive.'

In an odd way, the horizontal lines marring her new find reminded her of 'Obi. Except this guy's scars made a sort of rough triangle with a tip across the bridge of his nose that stretched and expanded over his left cheek, instead of decorating a neat half of his face. Odd, though not particularly important.

But the Konoha nin didn't seem to be a dog-man. No matter how obvious the stink of blood was to her, he was visibly ignorant.

He was skilled, however, even if he did have beady black creeper eyes. He picked his way rather expertly through the marshland, not leaving a physical trace of his presence. Like a veteran, actually.

'He has a lot more experience than me,' Aiko noted, more interested in an accurate tactical analysis than her ego. 'I can't afford to let him have a fair shot. It would be pathetically cliché for the young shinobi to underestimate someone cannier.'

It was almost a shame to unceremoniously kill someone that good, but she couldn't have him undermining her work. Aiko shrugged, picking a single senbon out of her leg holster and twirling it between her middle and forefingers as she examined her target to pick her shot.

'All that muscle might be enough to put the needle penetration off if I get the wrong spot. He's not in bad shape. What is he, in his mid-thirties?' Aiko gauged, eyes flicking over his lithe form for weaknesses. 'Definitely from Konoha, with that chest armor. They really prioritize that.'

Her target stopped suddenly, clearly alert.

She didn't know how, but he knew he was being watched. Did he have a chakra sense that was better than her suppressing? That would be odd, since his suppressing wasn't as good as her sensing. It was more likely that indefinable seventh sense that occasionally pricked the back of your neck for no apparent reason that had alerted him he was in danger.

'Oh, pooperscoop.'

Aiko pressed her lips out in a pout, slipping the senbon behind her ear like a schoolgirl would store a pencil. Now that he was alert, it would be a pain to get that perfect shot. And she hated unintentional messiness. There was no point in doing something sloppily when she could expend minimal effort and still get precise results by switching tactics. Her next tactic wasn't hard to choose, seeing as there was one obvious resource all around her, curling into her lungs and kissing her lips damply.

'Well, do you know where I am or not, sweetheart?' she wondered curiously, circling just a little bit as the sluggish wind shifted. She was still wearing her genjutsu, but no technique was perfect. A fellow infiltration shinobi was more likely to be able to spot the cracks in the technique than a random nin.

"Kai!"

Aiko jerked in mild surprise as the burst of chakra washed over her. Usually she could maintain her technique through one of those disruptions, but he'd really gone full-out with the power he'd put into the technique. Not bad. She was right, he was experienced. Special Jounin at least, if not a full Jounin. Konoha's Jounin were nothing to sniff at. Their standards for promotion seemed to be set higher than many other countries'. She should be wary and professional. Still…

"That's cheating!" Aiko faux-pouted, cocking her head slightly and letting him drink the sight of his killer in for just a moment.

Oddly, the man outright gaped. She might have thought he was leering, if it weren't for the fact that he seemed stuck on her face and hair and hardly glanced below the collarbones. (Not that there was anything to see, clad as she was in a high-necked but sleeveless top with pants). He looked more surprised at seeing her than he really had any right to, considering he'd just attempted to disrupt a genjutsu. Had that been luck? Did this guy just occasionally freeze like a startled deer and check for genjutsu?

'I'm definitely not telling 'Obi I got caught out by a complete lunatic,' she thought morosely.

Now that he'd seen her, he definitely had to die. She wasn't much good to 'Obi if the whole world knew about her, after all. Her hand slipped into her hip pouch for a smoke pellet.

Wow, he didn't even tense. Was he an idiot or what?

Generally, one took evasive action when an opponent was possibly reaching for a weapon. This man must be particularly clueless. Or trusting. It wasn't as if she had a mark of affiliation on her person. Maybe he wasn't willing to attack a stranger met within a country that was technically on peaceful terms with his own, if loosely.

That was… somewhat reasonable, actually.

Didn't matter. He'd kill her in an instant if he knew the mission she'd just completed. It wasn't particularly sporting to make the first move, but should that really matter in a fight to the death? Having had a chance to fight back wouldn't make the loser less deceased. Aiko had no plans of being that deceased shinobi.

Ah, well. Philosophy later, fighting now. Her hand darted like the head of a snake, snapping the pellet down with enough force that it burst open and spat a fat billow of scentless purple smoke. Aiko didn't bother repressing a smile and a cheeky wave in the instant that her upper torso was still visible, before she faded into genjutsu again and let the smoke cover her.

She didn't move an inch. No one other than a total idiot would expect someone to remain in the same position after using a smoke pellet. It was an absurd, just plain stupid strategy. Sure enough, as the smoke dissipated, the poor reasonable bastard of a Konoha nin clearly thought she'd merely moved into hiding.

'He really shouldn't be surprised that I would use the same trick twice,' Aiko assessed critically. 'Silly. Are Konoha nin just showboats or something? No point in re-inventing the wheel when you have a technique that gets the job done.'

No wonder 'Obi had been careful to keep her away from Konoha nin, aside from the whole 'they'd kill her on sight thing'. He probably didn't want her to pick up bad habits.

With preternatural ease, she took hold of the mist clinging insistently to the air as a preemptive strike. It was almost too easy, really. It was a second's work to condense it into actual water—a trick that was nicely timed with the instant that her unknown opponent opened his mouth wide. "U-"

'It's like he wants to help me kill him,' Aiko thought, bemused. That didn't stop her from taking control of her element and bastardizing a water bullet to send it shooting down the Konoha nin's throat before he got out more than a syllable. His jaw clamped shut and a hand shot to his neck, but she was already flooding his lungs. Clinically, she tilted her head and watched as panic set in. He wasn't even looking for her anymore, preoccupied as he was with the fact that he was about to drown.

Dispassionately, she waited and watched while consciousness fled and the poor sap collapsed. He had the presence of mind to turn his face to the side when he fell, probably in hopes that she would get sloppy and bored. If she were in too much of a hurry to wait until he was actually dead, he might cough up the water even in his unconscious state. With his head to the side, it would spill out. It was a little trick, but it would have saved his life, had she been careless or rushed.

'That's a tactic straight out of the warnings about passing out drunk,' Aiko thought, charmed by his hopeful attitude. He was a cutie. 'Well, buddy, that was a nice try.'

She let the genjutsu slip away and stepped forward, delicately tilting his chin up with her clean hand so that he faced skyward. His eyes had fluttered shut when oxygen was cut off to his brain, and he almost looked peaceful. He laid still and quiet on his back without so much as a scuff or wrinkle on his clothes.

That was the way she preferred to operate. Nice and clean. Aiko gave his shoulder a fond pat as she rose, finally releasing her hold on the water and glancing curiously at the rings on his hand. She had waited long enough that he was definitely dead, so it had merely been her impulse towards perfectionism that had led her to thwart his last-moment plan and not any practical reason.

Finished, Aiko cast her senses out. She wasn't sure if she thought Buddy was operating alone or not. On one hand, Konoha nin did tend to travel in groups, so he very well could have back-up. Then again, it was often easier to get in and out on a stealthy mission with as few people as possible.

She didn't sense anyone… There could be someone who was very sneaky, but it didn't seem likely. Aiko wasn't a half-bad sensor.

'Well, if he had someone who was meant to help, I think they're running late,' she decided perfunctorily, tossing her head and distractedly unclipping her hair. It was going to kink up terribly if she left it like that for long, and she had plans for the night that didn't involve a bad hair day. She didn't give it another thought, casually loping back on her path to the point where she'd diverted to meet Buddy.

'If Ame really has anyone as good as me available to check this out, they are going to be so fucking confused when they find that body,' Aiko thought with unkind amusement as she went through the motions of leaving a slight trail in the direction she had initially intended to go.

Of course, that would be more amusing than the original plan. She half-hoped that Ame was more than competent, just for the entertainment value.

'God, my head is killing me.' Aiko made a face, rubbing her palm against her temple in an ineffectual attempt at soothing the pain while she waited for her friend to meet her and whisk her away.

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #clarity

[that-scouse-wizard]

Day 1 - The First Day

Day 1 of @cursebreakerfarrier‘s back to school challenge. Characters mentioned here belong to @thatravenpuffwitch and @lifeofkaze.

For many it was just another day at King’s Cross Station, muggles from all walks of life going about their business. A seldom few noticing an unusually high number of people pushing carts through the station that more often than not had an owl in a cage as part of the luggage.

For young Nick Willows, it was his first time at the station and while normally he would have been looking around to take in the sights properly. However, there was something far more pressing that was causing a knot of anxiety in his gut, today would be his first day of school. While the shopping at Diagon Alley had kept him preoccupied, now that he was actually approaching the platform, the reality was starting to set in.

His twin sister Robin was far more enthusiastic as she rushed on ahead, their father just about keeping pace with her. That left Nick with his own cart as well as his mum, who was laughing at the other two’s enthusiasm, racing towards the gap between platform nine and ten. An old flare of competitiveness lit up in her as she began to push the cart a bit harder, that was before realising Nick wasn’t enthused with the idea.

She took a quick glance at the clock, they had time before the Hogwarts Express would depart, “Stop a moment, Nick.” Merula gently commanded, the two of them and their luggage quickly coming to a halt. Even as David noticed them stop, Merula made a gesture to go ahead, largely to stop Robin accidentally careering into someone.

She got down to his level, “What’s wrong?”

“What if I don’t like it at Hogwarts?” He asked quietly, she gave him a puzzled look.

“Now why would you think that?” There was a pause in his response.

“I dunno…” Nick admitted, trying to find the words as he mumbled, “I might get homesick.” Merula’s look softened, even though the school would provide them with temporary accommodation, it wasn’t the same as their home in Wimbourne.

“I think you’re nervous,” She said, her tone full of understanding, though needed to think for just a moment as she thought over her answer, “You know, Hogwarts isn’t so bad. After all, it’s where me and your dad met.”

“That’s true.” Nick admitted.

“And,” Merula continued, “You also already know Dylan, and Reva is joining this year too. We’re always going to be there, so will Robin.” That got a good-natured groan out of Nick. Chuckling at that, Merula reached into her bag, producing a small yellow bag of sweets with multicoloured people every colour of the rainbow on it.

Nick perked up at the sight of the jelly babies as his mother explained, “We were going to give you them when we got to school, but you know what I think? Have a few now and keep them in your pocket, share them out, you might make some friends. And if that doesn’t work…” She briefly unlocked the chest containing his books, taking out a sleek leatherbound book titled Dragons, in Theory and Practice by Reuben Willows.

With that, he took the bag and book, happily munching on a few sweets with the book under his arm. They only paused as they finally reached the entrance to platform nine and three quarters. The platform itself was in full swing, thronging with students both new and old. The last calls for luggage ringing out.

With the time catching up with them, Nick was quickly ushered onto the closest carriage with a last minute reassurance that his mum would handle his things. Though he felt somewhat better, finding a place to sit was starting to be a daunting prospect. He scanned each room he came across, some empty, some occupied at some point even happening upon Robin who was chattering with Reva Amari.

“Nick!” He heard as he passed by room further along the hall, coming from Dylan Amari, “You looking for a spot?” With Nick nodding, he gestured to join him and his two companions. One, a blonde girl who seemed closer to Dylan’s age than Nick. The other dark-haired young boy who offered Nick a brief smile.

“Is that a copy of Dragons, in Theory and Practice?” The other boy asked eagerly.

“Yeah, I’m even related to the author if you can believe it. Do you like dragons too?”

The other boy’s jaw had dropped open at that, “No way, you’re a relative of Reuben Willows? I love his books! Oh, I’m Patrick by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nick greeted, “Jelly baby?” He asked, taking the bag out of his pocket.

The other three soon took him up on his offer as steam rose into the air, the engine letting out a hiss as the train began to move on to Hogwarts, Nick began to feel that everything would soon be alright for him.

#harry potter magic awakened #nick willows #robin willows #rylie hopper-lee #patrick hopper lee #reva amari #dylan amari