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finnritter · 1 year

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Gondolin Week 2023 - Day One: Feast of Summer

Turgon, FA 510, May 27

Time rushes. After years that seemed frozen in stone and barely seizable, everything has started moving again, faster and faster.

He has a grandson now, and a son-in-law, whom he both loves so much, for their good hearts and bright spirits and for the smile they can conjure on Idril’s face. They are a reminder, every day, that time is still moving forward, that they are moving towards something.

And yet, while his family has been growing, his last sibling has been dead for almost four decades.

Turgon tries not to think too often about him. Often if he does, things begin to slip again, like he is losing his grip on reality. It's happening less, these days, not how it was shortly after the Nirnaeth, when days after days had passed without him really taking notice. But it still happens, sometimes, that a dangerously straying thought pulls the rug out from under his feet and leaves him trapped with his people’s glorious defeat.

It had been only one time when he had dared to risk everything, but they had lost in such a way that it wouldn’t have mattered if he had just kept abandoning his brother. And now they must endure. And yet it feels like they are waiting for something, like something is stewing just out of their reach.

Like Fingon is still throwing a shadow over him every time he puts on the crown and feels like a fraud.

Don’t go there, he reminds himself. Don’t think about him now.

Idril worries, too.

He grasps for the thought of her like it’s a lifeline, and tries to consciously breathe in the fresh morning air to remind himself where he is.

It’s not a much nicer thought because she worries to the point where she is looking weary and stressed and he hates seeing her like this.

He would like to help, would like to know what ails her so. It’s not about him, not only, that’s as much as he knows, but it’s also nothing she would tell him about. Maybe she would have told him a decade or two ago. Or four. Maybe not. But nowadays, she doesn’t.

The knowledge hurts Turgon more than he would admit, although he is glad that, in her husband, she has someone beside her old father to open up to now. Someone to brace her when Turgon won’t be able to do it anymore.

That’s also not a good thought.

Maeglin is quiet as well, but he is remarkably obliging, too. The latter worries Turgon more than the former because it means that something is wrong.

But he won't talk to Turgon either, he rarely does and less so if he's pushed, so Turgon leaves it be.

Irisse would not have left it be. She would have tried to coax the truth out of her son and niece, she would have tried to get to the bottom of what was being kept from her.

She would have argued with him, too. Would have tried to coax him out of his shell, only to frustrate him to no end in the process. They probably would have fought, and reconciled shortly after. He doesn’t want to think about her.

Atar would have- No, he is not going there.

Fingon- Not there either.

His thoughts have run the first full lap and he tries to force them onward, to break the circle. He can’t think about Fingon without thinking about how they lost. How he lost him, how hope was lost with him.

And yet- And yet...

They are approaching the Tarnin Austa, the Gates of Summer, the most important festival that belongs solely to their young, motley gondolidhren culture. Fingon has never heard about it, but he would have liked it, Turgon is sure of it.

Maybe this is the right moment to think about Fingon, if ever. Maybe it’s time to think about how, bathed in the first sunrise of this coming summer, the echo of his brother’s last futile triumph will ring out the loudest.

The day has come.

The day has come, and gone. But it was not the last day, not for everyone. Day shall come again, as it rings in Turgon’s head as the accompaniment of his bitter defeat. Maybe there’s a truth in those words, though.

Day might come again. Summer will come again. The light will be bright, and the sun will be warm. They will wait in silence for this new hope, every year anew, and it has always come.

This year will be no different, and maybe, this time, hope will last after all.

Idril, FA 510, May 31

The last day of spring in Gondolin is simultaneously the most stressful and the most solemn day of the year.

Idril enjoys it, enjoys the buzzing of the last hectic preparations.There are those for the grand feast that is being held out in the city streets and all over the brilliantly decorated King’s Square and the Great Market, last minute setups, preparation of food and drinks, arranging of instruments for those who will brighten up the coming of day with music, and the construction of dancefloors and podiums all over outstanding sites of the city.

Idril, who as usually has been on the planning committee that started their work months ago – the members are so enthusiastic about the feast every year that her job mostly consists of talking people out of ideas that are just too crazy to actually accomplish and making sure to safely enable others – feels a sense of pride and gratitude to see everything come together like this. It is surprising, every year, how exuberantly everyone throws themselves into preparations, how high the anticipation rises every year anew, even in times like these, when Idril often feels like collapsing under the dark, evil grasp that seems to tighten around their little oasis of fragile peace.

But maybe that is the point; they need this. She needs this. Even though it sometimes felt like treacherous thing to worry about the right appetisers or the colour of garlands in the face of rising chaos outside their valley; they need something to keep believing in.

Sometimes she looks at her father and the way his gaze still often closes off as he drifts back to horrors she would gladly clear from his memory. Tthe way he clenches his jaw in denial whenever someone even brazes the mention of opening the gates, and how if betrays his fear, if only to her. And seeing this makes it easier for her to swallow her own worries, if just for a day. To not think about her dreams for once. Not even those that seem to mess with the borders of time and reality, those that show her futures she hopes aren’t written in stone yet.

But they are prepared. They deserve a day of song and laughter in between all this mess.

She shakes her head as if to clear it out, and then she finishes helping with the last of the preparations outside and heads to her own house to see what her most beloved boys have brought about in the meantime.

After the grand feast outside, it is custom to split up into smaller groups of friends and family and continue celebrating the day inside the own four walls or gardens. Idril loves this part almost more than the official celebrations, just because she knows that there barely are set traditions and every family does it differently. She loves this, loves hearing some of her neighbours sing until deep into the next night while another couple often sits on their balcony that is barely visible from her and Tuor’s place and just talks and talks and talks. She loves that Tuor and her have started the tradition of hiding little affectionate notes for each other around the house – some of which they often find only days later – and that Eärendil excitedly joins in with his own messages, written in the scrawly hand of a young child.

When she comes home, she finds the decorations mostly done, the food ready and out of reach of the therefore rather sorrowful dogs, and her two boys passed out together in Idril and Tuor’s bed.

She smiles and gently closes the door, letting them collect a bit of sleep for the long night that awaits them. She will wake them up in time for dinner, traditionally only a small, modest meal held shortly before the beginning of dusk.

With the onset of evening the Gondolindrim will slowly begin to gather on the big squares, or in their case high up on the front balcony of the palace, talking quietly among themselves and getting in the right mood for the long, silent night that awaits them from midnight till the first ray of sunlight.

Idril absentmindedly sets straight some ornaments that have gone askew and then settles down on her armchair, where she strokes one of the dogs’ ears and tries not to glance over her shoulder to the row of shelves that hides a yearlong project that will hopefully never be put to use.

It will all be alright, she thinks. We deserve this. We will greet summer with laughter and song in our hearts, and it will all be well, in the end.

Eärendil, FA 510, June 1

The night of the last day of May is the only one when Eärendil is allowed to stay up way past his bedtime. Actually, he is allowed to not sleep at all, which, obviously, is terribly exciting.

The whole day he has watched his parents and the people of the city prepare everything for the feast and he has tried to help where he can as well. He has set a whole table by himself and took extra care to place all the cutlery very neatly and to make sure that all the carefully folded serviettes (not carefully folded by him, although the kind woman who had done it had tried to show him how to) are shown to advantage.

He has also helped to prepare some of the food in one of the palace’s biggest kitchens, but he has been thrown out by the main chef because he apparently was getting in the feet of everyone. He hasn’t, he was very careful to not run into anybody while they were handling the food, but they might have been annoyed that he brought one of his parents’ dogs. Dogs don’t belong into kitchens, and apparently, neither do small boys.

After all that hustle with the last preparations, Eärendil has been very excited for the feast to finally begin. He can remember last year’s, which has been great fun, and the one before as well. The one three years ago, he isn’t so sure about. His Atto says that he has an excellent memory, and he can even recall glimpses of many things about the years when he has been very, very little, but he is no elf, so he can’t always remember everything.

But before the celebrations could begin, they must get through the night of silence. Which Eärendil has not yet managed to do without sleeping in, but he will really try this year. It’s not his fault that he is a child and needs more sleep than all the adults. He even needs more sleep than elven children do, at his age, because he is half-mortal. His Atto has more problems than all the elves to not sleep at all for one whole night, so he usually takes a very long nap together with Eärendil at noon the day before the Feast. They have done this today as well, but Eärendil has been far too excited to sleep and he didn’t want to lay around and do nothing for hours. This has been when he has tried to help in the kitchen, actually, before someone has ushered him home where he reluctantly has crawled in with his Atto into bed again.

But still, a while after midnight, when everything and everyone is eerily silent and the city looks still and static like a painting, Eärendil does begin to get very tired again. It’s hard, to not talk for so long, and be expected to be as still as he can and do nothing that makes much of a racket. He has focussed on looking up at the stars at first, like most elves around him do to. But it’s not much fun if he can’t even tell the others what constellations he can make out in the endless dark sky, so now he is cradled into his Atto’s arms, resting his head against his wide shoulders that always remind him of a bear or a lion that can walk on two legs because he is so strong and broad (and a little furry, in the face) and has trouble keeping his eyes open.

He knows that it won’t be a problem if he falls asleep. He does not have to stay awake, and actually, if he doesn’t, he will be way more awake and fit for the celebrations in the morning. And Amil has promised to wake him up before dawn. He wants to be awake a little before the first sunrise in any case because he wants to be the first one to see the light. He has decided to sit on his grandfather’s shoulders this year, because he is the tallest elf he knows and like this he really has an advantage on seeing the light first. Maybe it’s really better to fall asleep now, so his eyes will be keener and more alert in the morning. He really does not want to miss the first light.

…

When he wakes up, he sees his Amil smile at him and put a finger over his lips. He is confused at first, and also confused why they are outside in the dark, why he is lying on a bench at the back of the palace’s huge balcony, with a pillow under his head and a blanket wrapped tightly around him.

Then he remembers and suddenly is very awake. He repeats his Amil’s gesture and tries to sign that he wants to sit on grandfather’s shoulders now. He is very hurried because he is afraid that it might be already dawn any minute, but as he finally rests on his grandfather’s shoulders – slimmer than his Atto’s, but almost as steady – he can see that while the sky begins to grey at the egdes, dawn is surely still a short while away.

So he waits, in silence and in wonder, like everyone else. The sky becomes lighter and lighter, but Tillion takes his time. Eärendil absent-mindedly begins to twist a few strands of his grandfather’s silky, dark hair between his fingers, before he remembers that the king, who is so kind to do him this favour despite standing here before his whole people, surely would mind snares in his hair, especially today. He folds his hands on top of his head instead, and looks east, for the sun, and the summer it will bring with it, today.

#i hope i haven't been to liberal with the prompt #but the angst just happened and i liked the thought of losely connecting those three POVs #i'll probably do something similar with the rest even though i hope they don't turn out as long #bc i have been lazy and barely wrote anything in advance #silmarillion #fall of gondolin #turgon #idril #eärendil #tuor #(also cameo of idril and tuor's dogs bc i love them)#silm fic #silmarillion fic #my writing #gondolinweek #gondolinweek2023

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insecuregodcomplex · 1 year

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tsats theories before i actually read it

this is solely for me to put all my thoughts in one place (kind of like a bingo board), feel free to interact with it though if you’d like

disclaimer: i've read the leaked preview and seen the video of rick showing the book off

i'm planning on:

trogs are definitely coming back, nico mentions their help because hades has forbidden him going to the voice in ToN and also there's this from the preview (x)

nico will at least have to acknowledge his solo tartarus trip which will make me yell and scream i hope he gets to share details of how fuckin horrible it was alone and without the mist ok (x)

general theories

maybe it's not Bob who wants out, maybe it's someone else (Michael Yew?) (x)

helm of darkness appearance (x)

parallels to HoH scene (i have read the first five so like i do know about the cupid reference but i also mean the other parts included in the reblog here x)

because we know we're getting information about will and nico getting together, could the marked flashback chapter(s?) have something to do with that?? (x)

Mark and that character they said deserved more attention (? I’m butchering the quote probably) — Michael Yew and Ethan Nakamura are my top candidates for that but much moreso expecting and hoping for Michael Yew

the idea of Nico telling the truth to will makes me excited and nervous…just had a thought about what if it’s like. the truth of how deep his self hatred goes/how scared he was/etc?? ouch (continuation of the HoH post)

so when I read the leaked preview I had this idea — Nico dreaming in shadows maybe is Styx, and then his mom would be his lifeline. Her calling to him would be her going to tell him to let go/move on/move forward and leave his past behind him...which would be something of equal/important value as Bob the Titan. Like Nico’s whole backstory/life/who he was. — and leaving Nico’s memories has definitely been tossed around at least, and I’d be curious if my first theory for this book was realized at all

i'm hoping for

acknowledgement of will losing siblings, other campers too but will siblings <3 Michael Yew love u (river acheron post)

Nico (and Will) and Small Bob (comic of this)

will not keeping his shit together (x)

partially prompted by Percy saying this in SOH I hope there’s a Melinoe feature especially to explore both Will and Nico’s ghosts

some sort of nod/s to will and Nico knowing of each other before they got together (like the Apollo cabin fighting with the Ares cabin in TLO, callbacks and their POVs on stuff like that)

Solangelo/Hades interaction (would also love any apollo feature and can't decide if TOA makes me think it's more or less likely to happen)

i'm excited by the idea of:

will getting injured and talking nico through how to save him (from this post)

similarly -- "character seeing their SO being fatally wounded and reacting" (see: "will's grip was very weak") (tagged this post as TSATS)

michael yew dream sequence!!!! (x) (as i tagged in that post...maybe what nico has to tell will the truth for?)

reverse octavian situation, where will says someone can't be saved type of thing (x)

learning more about will's tattoo and maybe the reason(s) for getting it (x)

"let me see Nico cross the border of life and death only to emerge then as the most stunning, gorgeous existence this universe has to offer...Or Will. The sun is a star anyway. I'm not picky about it." from this post

will being afraid of snakes (this post)

simply characters talking about being queer!!! would love piper to be in this <3

potentially bianca didn’t go for rebirth and was just hiding from Nico trying to bring her back (in TSON he says that’s what he was doing when he found Hazel)

i wonder if...

Rachel says the prophecy has repeated itself twelve times and how twelve is an important number for Olympus and the Doors of Death (mine)

georgina parentage confirmed at all? (x)

also seeing as we're going to learn about how they got together...if anyone wants to read either of my two fics about it lmk lol they’re on ao3

#tsats takes #tsats ideas #tsats potential spoilers #tsats spoilers #tsats #the sun and the star potential spoilers

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quitetheketch-moved · 2 years

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Hi, I'm Byron, and this is one of my cats, Little Girl.

We need assistance with a small vet bill, replacing my computer, and saving for living expenses.

Other places to help: Paypal | Venmo | Cashapp

Full context: Little Girl is a stray that was dropped off in my neighborhood a few months back, when she was still a kitten. I live in a rural area in the deep south and have no access to no-kill shelters. Finding her a new home in my area would have been difficult if not impossible. I took her in and now love her more than anything, but while I can feed her and my other, fixed cat with ease and take care of both of their immediate needs, I need help getting her spayed and vaccinated. The upfront cost is $250, more than I can save up for alone.

This is my decade old desktop computer. It's well loved and has been limping along for the last five years, but earlier this year it started blue screening regularly. Video and audio drivers have been crashing, the USB ports are failing, the side panel will no longer stay on, and it has a host of other small problems that can no longer be ignored. I am disabled and chronically ill. I need to use a desktop for physical accessibility, as well as my safety and mental health; this computer is my lifeline to the outside world. It pains me to do this during the worst inflation we've seen in years, but it has to be replaced. I expect it to cost between 600 and 1800 dollars.

Lastly, sometime within the next 4-18 months I'll be able to move to a safer environment. Plans are still being finalized, but I have to leave my current residence no matter what. Because I am disabled I'm dependent on donations and what few Etsy sales I can make to feed myself and get my meds, half of which are for a heart condition and all of which are essential to my health and wellbeing. The high goal of this fundraiser should ensure I can pay for the things I need to do before I move, and help me continue to stay housed, medicated, and fed until then; if there is any money leftover by the move, it will go towards getting settled in my new home.

My parents died in 2020 and with them went the most important support network I had. While I don't need much to live each month, losing the 50-100 dollars I got from them has crippled me on top of the shock of mourning for them both so suddenly. The isolation of living where I do, being unable to safely be myself or even form social connections in my town, has been a great deal to bear. This move will save my life, but I desperately need help to make it.

I want to thank you for reading this far and helping me spread the word. I hope you have the best day you can.

#mutual aid #i have seen a lot of people not asking donations posts be tagged so they dont not show up in tags or something? anyway i dont really care #tag it as you like #i rely entirely on reblogs and direct shares #so i dont care what you do #but if you can help thank you and if you cant thats 100% okay but please reblog if you can #i know i've needed a lot of help the last two years #and i am grateful for every bit i got #and i'm so close to a better life #i can taste it i just gotta hold out a little longer #then maybe i can start giving back to community myself #thats my end goal tbh #get better or better enough to work again even part time so i can give back #one day u.u

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mejomonster · 9 months

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Behold, the patpran Guardian au prologue! Featuring Pa as Da Qing, Pat as future Guardian, candy instead of a sentimental watch (so far), Pran as the mysterious Hero, and as usual a very sucky dad. Also angst, mention of character death (go figure):

Twenty years ago, a stranger saved Pa.

Pat was eight. Pa was always at his side, sometimes as a person, sometimes as a cat. Around a lot more than his dad, and yet his dad's shadow was always looming. There was no fully escaping it.

Maybe that's why the stranger had run away.

Because the stranger, he was a shadow. Or something equally strange and indescribable.

Pa had been in her cat form, listening to him venting heaps of nonsense about his father, being nice to him for once and not telling Pat how dad was all he had left. That maybe he should be a little gentler. That maybe it wasn't his dad's fault, but--

Pat just wanted to hug his mom again.

Dad hadn't said much, about what had happened. Like everything else, his dad had blamed some dixingren. A monster that got too close to mom.

But why had dad let a monster near her in the first place? How could he be a Guardian, and fail to protect one of the most important people in the world?

Pat had been walking on the ledge of a bridge. Reckless. Childish. Maybe some part deep inside him hoping to make trouble for his dad, hoping to make the man feel how hopeless Pat did. It had rained earlier, and the stone ledge was slippery. In the midst of talking, he slipped.

Pa had been walking behind him, with the superior balance of a cat, and rammed into him, her weight managing to get him to tumble down into the stone road instead of the roaring river below.

But the force of it had sent her falling down to the water instead.

Pat had shouted, rushing to try and grab her, moving far too slow, grasping too late, catching hold of nothing but empty air.

An awful sort of scream coming from Pa--and then darkness had swelled around her small body, engulfing her. Like a fog suddenly moving in, but quicker, denser, like something alive. Pat was screaming for her, even though there was nothing he could do to help.

Then that living darkness had surged up, a column rushing up right in front of Pat's small face, and then it retreated. Gentle, like a lazy ocean wave slowly backing away after coming in, leaving Pa's body laying safely on the road in front of him.

"Pa!" He'd crouched down and scooped her into his arms, cradling her. His lifeline, his guardian and friend and sister and the only person that he really had left that mattered. He held her close, feeling her little heartbeat and the warmth of her body and finally feeling the panic unwind inside him.

Looking up, the conscious darkness had hovered nearby, a shadow without a source, an opaque unknown he couldn't even begin to understand.

Sticking around, almost as if it was somehow concerned about Pa as well.

"Thank you," Pat said to it, not feeling at all silly for speaking to such a thing, in that moment.

The darkness laid in wait, as if watching him. As if it heard, and understood.

Then it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

That was the year one monster took away his mom, and another gave Pa back to him.

---

He never told his father. Pat knew he'd never understand.

But for weeks, he'd go back to that bridge--refusing to bring Pa, so she couldn't fall again. Promising her that he wouldn't walk on bridge ledges anymore. And that really was Pat, wasn't it? Always learning things the hard way. Because he wouldn't follow anyone's orders until he'd experienced things for himself.

Like with anything else, he hadn't learned the most important "wisdom" of his father: to stay away from monsters.

How could he? Pat didn't understand them. He didn't understand why someone would attack his mom just because they were different. And he didn't understand why if the difference was so impassable, another person like that would help him and Pa.

He needed to understand.

No one needed to know.

Although he's sure Pa figured out what he kept getting out to. His little guard cat wasn't going to get involved unless things got dangerous. She was still milking her near death experience, getting him to buy all the most expensive foods wuth his allowance, tucking her into her own lush expensive bed, kneeling and praising her as Cat Queen of the Universe whenever he got too annoying for her to tolerate humans anymore.

So for weeks, with the little savings he had after everything Pa was eating through, he'd get some candy and go to the bridge. And leave a few pieces. Some offering to an unknowable god.

To the stranger made of darkness, that had been looking out for him and Pa when there was no reason.

For anyone to care if they lived or died. Because the world was a cruel, cold, lonely place. And if people killed each other just because of things they didn't understand--if people like his dad attacked monsters until the monsters whispered about men like him as the Biggest Monster of all? Then why would a stranger so afraid of Pat's family's legacy on the world, bother helping.

It must be a really nice person, this monster he met on the bridge.

Each time Pat left candy on the bridge, the last week's candy was gone. He smiled to himself, hoping somehow the Hero of Darkness had found the offering and enjoyed it. Pretending for a while that it wasn't more likely some squirrel or bird who'd made away with his little offerings.

He never saw the living shadow again, though.

#mejo writing #patpran #bad buddy #guardian #fanfic #fanfiction #i will be putting this on ao3 once i complete more ToT

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dabihawksluvr · 1 year

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.: My Current Theory(s) :.

I've only played this game for around a couple days, but I've also been hunting down theories outside of it...and hoo boy, my hunches for most things going on make me so excited to see what happens next. I'm glad I'm not the only one seeing these things, and I will definitely try to use other traits (I main Street Smarts and Mystic in my canon playthrough) to see if I can get other stuff to pop up.

But for now, I'm gonna talk about my own playthrough and my theories for events after Chapter Four.

(+) I didn't like my cousin at first, honestly she weirded me out and I fully believe she's part of everything going on..but I can tell she's not entirely 'bad', she's probably just stuck doing these things and feels she simply can't leave. And I do like that she doesn't want us causing trouble, I do believe she cares but isn't trying to get too close (for reasons). I even protected her during the psychedelic ghost 'vision', giving up years of my life in her place. I hope I can get closer to her in future chapters, even if she betrays me I'd still not entirely be angry about it.

(+) Sybil is definitely sus. I kept on feeling there was something about her, I mean she knows about Ditchlings and doesn't seemed scared in the least by anything going on. But when she did the tea reading...I got the ability to actually push past my option to suspect her being the 'cat' being flipped on me. So my fears were correct, she definitely knows what's going on. And may be even the mastermind behind it all. I wouldn't be surprised in the least at this point, especially after she literally stood in a doorframe and had shadows on her the entire time. So I'm gonna be watching out for her.

(+) I hope that the church is important soon, I do wanna see the mysteries behind that place and Tetanus Lake. I bet the 'rats' are either Ditchlings, or possibly even ghosts of those who died in that lake...and I bet we'll have to jump in. Possibly to find another one of those symbols/seals buried underneath. And I'm actually starting to like the priest, I don't think he's a bad guy and is simply just trying too hard to be liked...though a part of me hopes I'm wrong. If I'm wrong, I want it to be revealed that the priest is actually running a cult of some kind. Because those little tidbits throughout the story are driving me up a wall.

(+) I didn't save the doctor in my canon playthrough, so I hope that doesn't screw me over in the future...but it probably will. I'll probably get bad metal poisoning and all that from the lake, and there'd be no doctor to help with that. I just hope Reese comes back...I'm trying to romance him, I just want my monster boy to cuddle me as I deal with this hellscape of a town.

(+) I think Reese is most definitely NOT human. He's most close to an Incubus, at least with how he was conceived...but he's also similar to a Vampire and/or Werewolf, I mean he can shapeshift and even has a tail. Maybe he could also be part Ditchling...I wouldn't be surprised if he was, considering. I just hope that I won't have to face him possibly going into a hunger frenzy at some point, and I hope he doesn't get a hunger for humans after chomping down on his own mom. But, I'm also not against helping him with that...*grabs axe*

(+) Stella NEEDS to be found. And soon. I hope she really isn't a part of everything going on, but after she just up and left I'm not leaving out any reasoning. Even asking Wayne about her didn't get me anywhere, but tbh that whole thing after Reese I'm far less wary of him now than before. I mean, the guy wants me to leave the town...so he is definitely on my side, even if he did try to hurt Reese I'll still try trusting him more. He may be the only lifeline I'll have to save myself in the future.

#scarlet hollow theories

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lolexjpg · 3 months

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dts s3 e9-10

e9: -bahrain is such a beautiful track btw i love her -damn they just jump straight into it boom explosion -before logan was the sad wet lil meow meow......2020 alex was the ORIGINAL -the way reporters are asking abt checo->red bull before he even won that race, makes me curious how much he was seriously in the conversation for the seat beforehand. anyone who was on tumblr at the time i'd love to hear what the gossip mills were like at the time 👀 -dany's "please tell me he's okay" always GETS me bc i know dany's the car he crashed with and it was 100% a racing incident but i cannot imagine the guilt he was feeling in the moment. i'm so fond of him he definitely deserved better by the red bull machine -gunther talking about how fire is the worst thing you can have in a crash--and thinking about how guanyu said his biggest fear in his silverstone crash was the car catching fire. we're really lucky that his car didnt honestly -the music design on this in INCREDIBLE like they really did an INSANE job here. cacos "thats an act of god" always gets me. really summarizes how improbably lucky he was to survive that. i'm so glad he did -gunther sucks but the way he insists he has to meet the rescue guys to thank them personally 😭😭 -ALBODIUM MY BELOVED (when will she return) -i didnt write anything down for the grosjean post crash self reflection bit. i just wanted to sit and experience it and not think :) -one can say this sakhir crash was the original checo third wheeling lestappen -when ppl ask how to get into f1, i always bring up the inside story series on youtube, and TOP of recommendations is the inside story on this race! it is truly insane what he did here, cant wait to see this race in full -i just think it wouldve been SO iconic if george had won this race. first ever mercedes race win before he even got a mercedes seat? wouldive been ICONIC. ppl talk abt the domino affect of alex's appendicitis but if mercedes didnt fuck up BOTH their drivers pit stops, checo wouldn't have won (probably), would he have been signed then? new butterfly affect to discuss -I THINK. i know the idea of checo leaving the sport soon is being discussed a lot, and even in this episode he discusses that if its the end for him he is proud of what hes accomplished and thankful for as long as he had to drive in f1. his red bull seat really was a lifeline, a second chance, and he has added to his legacy significantly with red bull. if he loses his seat on 2024, no matter what mean things i've said about him in the heat of the moment, he has a LOT to be proud of. if its his time to go, its his time to go

ep 10: -i think AD is a BANGER of a race track. i'm glad its the finale race -ok so lets see daniel gives renault their first podium in 9 years......then gives mclaren their first win in forever as well.....hmmmm.....washed up who? -cyril getting a tattoo youtube video is So Important 2 ME. cyril calling his wife to tell her the details while daniel dies silent laughing is the instant seratonin boost for me -every time zak & lando have a lil clearly staged chat it has the most sugar baby energy ever why do they do this -lando says so many nice things abt daniel here yet the dando antis choose to ignore them and insist lando does nothing but distrespect him 😡 anti-lando daniel girlies r my least favorite -NOT DANIEL HITTING THE BEAM ABOVE HIM IN THE GARAGE TOO the dando agenda continues -damn i hope they give this much dts attention to the battle for 7th last year too -lawrence rly hired seb to mentor his son huh -aston martin colors Do Fuck we all must admit -frothing at the mouth over the 4433 moment here. its mental illness innit -i've always felt. like the lewis racism segment was a bit shoehorned in here. like they went oh fuck we need to include this somewhere lets just slap it on the end of the episode. i think it would've been so much better and more impactful in a fully lewis focused episode. but ya kno? i'd rather they do it this way than not at all, so i suppose i shouldn't complain too much

#dtsrewatch #she speaks #only 2 episodes behind i'm working on it!

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rogueninja12 · 9 months

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Chapter 8: Embracing Hope in the Midst of Darkness

Life had taken me on a tumultuous journey, one filled with highs and lows, moments of joy and heart-wrenching sorrow. The pain of loss and the insensitivity of some relatives had left scars that seemed impossible to heal. But amid the darkness, I found glimmers of light – friends and their parents who embraced me as family, a supportive colleague who helped me through tough times, and the unwavering love of my dad's family.

As I battled with grief, depression, anxiety, and suicidal tendencies, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of emotions, struggling to find a lifeline to hold onto. It was during these dark times that I realized the importance of seeking help, of reaching out to others, and allowing myself to be vulnerable. Therapy became my lifeline, and through it, I began to understand the depth of my pain and the strength I possessed to overcome it.

I cannot emphasize enough the significance of having good friends by my side. They were my pillars of support, the ones who held my hand when I felt like I was slipping away. Their love and understanding were a balm to my wounded soul. I also discovered the power of chosen family – friends' parents who welcomed me into their homes, treating me with the same love and care as their own children. Their kindness and generosity reaffirmed my belief that family isn't always bound by blood.

The year 2022 brought significant changes in my life. I made the difficult decision to leave my toxic lab and embrace new opportunities. I joined one of the best universities in South Korea as a medical PhD student, embarking on a path that held promise and possibilities. The support I received from my friends and mentors was immeasurable. They believed in me even when I struggled to believe in myself.

One person who stood out amidst the challenges was Eva, my colleague who had extended a helping hand when I needed it most. Her kindness and support had a profound impact on my life. It was with her assistance that I could pay off the hospital bills and overcome the financial burden that threatened to crush me. Eva's gesture taught me the importance of showing compassion to others, as a single act of kindness can make all the difference in someone's life.

In the depths of my despair, I found hope. Hope that things could get better, that the pain would eventually subside, and that life had more to offer. Each step I took towards healing was a step towards hope. I channeled my grief and pain into my work, finding solace in my research and academic pursuits. The journey was not easy, but I refused to give up.

Amid the academic achievements and career milestones, I remained aware that healing was an ongoing process. I still carried the scars of my past, but I had learned to wear them with pride, as they were a testament to my strength and resilience. Each day, I reminded myself that I was not defined by my past, but rather by the person I had become in spite of it.

I found hope in the smiles of friends, the laughter that echoed in my life, and the warmth of unconditional love from my chosen family. The journey towards healing was not linear, and there were moments when I stumbled and fell. But I never lost sight of the hope that kept me going.

As I wrap up this chapter of my life, I am filled with gratitude for the lessons I have learned and the people who have been my guiding light. I have come to understand that life is a tapestry of experiences – some joyous, others painful – and it is up to us to weave them into a story of hope and resilience.

My journey has taught me that hope is not just a fleeting emotion; it is a force that sustains us even in our darkest moments. It is the belief that, no matter how tough life gets, there is always a glimmer of light waiting to guide us forward.

To anyone reading this, who might be battling their own demons, I want to tell you that you are not alone. Reach out to others, seek help when you need it, and surround yourself with people who love and support you. Embrace hope, for it is a beacon that can lead you out of the darkness and into the light.

Life is an unpredictable journey, and we cannot control all that it throws our way. But we can choose how we respond to the challenges and adversities. I am living proof that hope can carry us through the darkest nights and lead us to a new dawn filled with endless possibilities.

I hold onto hope as I move forward, knowing that my story is far from over. There will be more chapters to write, more highs and lows to experience, but I face the future with courage and determination.

And so, I close this chapter with hope in my heart and gratitude in my soul. To the friends, mentors, and chosen family who have been my rock, thank you for being my guiding stars. To my mom, who lives on in my memories, I will forever carry your love in my heart.

This is not the end of my story, but rather a new beginning – a chapter filled with hope, resilience, and the unwavering belief that no matter what life throws my way, I have the strength to overcome it. And so do you. Let us embrace hope together, for it is a force that can move mountains and light up even the darkest of nights.

#healing #life #loss #love #dealing with grief #grief #journey #journal #empathy #resilience #strength #hope #positivity #autobiography #lamentations

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purplelupins · 2 years

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Okay so i just got an idea and had to send it to my favorite harry potter writer immediately. So I was listening to the song 'sweet goodbyes' by Krezip and I just thought what if the story described in the song was actually Fem!reader x Remus Lupin after the deaths of Lily and James and after Sirius was imprisoned. I just thought it could be very emotional and sad and the song was fitting.

Hope

Warnings: this is basically all angst with some hope in there. This should really be called angst…

NOTE: wow okay this actually is so late and I’m so sorry. This took a lot out of me because I really tried to harness the despair of losing so much. I hope you enjoy!!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It didn’t matter how many nights were left un-slept or how many days were spent barely hanging on. It didn’t matter how hard it was to breath or how many tear soaked shirts were hung up to dry. It didn’t matter how many nightmares bled into the daylight.

It didn’t matter.

They were gone.

They were all gone.

Y/n felt as if the world continued to spin around her while she stood still.

A shell of herself.

Waiting for her heart to mend.

Ever since she saw the grey headstone with their names engraved, y/n had all but become comatose.

Her friendships crumbled and her happiness felt as if it was put on a high shelf. Her home felt cold and empty without the warmth of her chosen family; without the kindness of her other half.

It had been days since she had seen Remus Lupin. The deaths of Lily and James Potter were devastating enough, but the conviction and imprisonment of Sirius simply tipped them over the edge of despair.

They had been in each other’s arms the morning they found out, not a care in the world when they held each other. But then that letter came, and as they read it, y/n’s tea fell onto the couch cushion, leaving a stain that she touched now. Forever marking that morning.

She had no tears to cry any more. No more sobs to bruise her ribs. She was drained. Memories of her friends plagued her day and night, but she knew it was time to find the strength she knew she had; she knew it was there because they had given it to her over years of love and selflessness.

Y/n let out a sigh, and stood from her couch. It was time to be strong, if not for her, then for them. For him. She needed to be there for him to get them through the night when he returned.

Remus had left to wreck havoc on the Ministry for wrongly convincing his best friend, but he was only shut out. He had stayed in the city, wandering the streets but not truly seeing where he went. Busy streets turned into quiet lanes as he wandered aimlessly.

It felt as if a part of his soul had been ripped from his chest that day, and hidden away. He felt empty in his agony. He didn’t know what to hold onto in his life, only feeling the hot tears that welled in his eyes as he stared up at the night sky.

The more he thought on what he had left, the more he continued to come back to one thing. The most important thing.

His darling y/n.

Before he knew it, his feet had taken him back to the familiar house that pulled him in.

He stared at the door, almost afraid to knock in fear that she wouldn’t answer. Afraid she too would cast him out. But he as raised his knuckles to the wooden door, it swung open.

There stood the most important thing left for him. The one thing he could never let go of. The one thing he could never lose.

His hope.

His light in the dark.

Those bright eyes he loved so deeply stared up at him, and in that moment, he let go. Remus walked to her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. They were each other’s lifeline in such a difficult time, tethered to one an other by nothing but a string. It was delicate and fragile. But it was theirs.

Y/n held him close, letting her tears fall and stain his shirt. She ran her hand through his hair that had begun to grey even now in his youth; her heart ached knowing how much the man she loved had been through in his life, and continued to do through. Every person he loved left, cast him out or was taken from him. Y/n knew that her pain was not comparable to his. She was hurt, but he was shattered.

Feeling him let go in her arms was like no pain she had ever known. Her heart felt crushed under the weight of his sorrow, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She would be lost without him, and he her.

Y/n released him after a moment and grasped his hand gently, reaching up to wipe a few tears from his scarred face.

“Come home, Remus.” She whispered.

He nodded, eyes red and glistening. Y/n pulled him inside the house and took his jacket off. Remus looked around, as if it was the first time he saw the inside of their home. Then, he looked down at the young woman who held his hand so softly, it was like the touch of an angel.

His safe haven.

“Y/n…I-I can’t…” his voice broken under his despair. He couldn’t keep himself together, not anymore. He had been so lost without her, not knowing up from down.

“I know…Remus I have you. We’re together. And as long as we stay that way, we can get through this.” She reached up and held his cheek. “I’m here.”

As their world crumbled away around them, they walked slowly to their bed and lay down, cradling one another in sorrow. They needed one another. Without the other, they would be lost. They let the ruin of their life surround them, engulf them. They could take it. They were two half’s of a broken soul that fused themselves together to make something whole.

Together they could slowly repair the detestation that surrounded them.

They could barely sleep, minds whirling with thoughts of their changing world. Years of friendship and happiness were all taken away in a single night, leaving nothing but the year old son of Lily and James behind. It made her chest ache at the thought of the boy being given away to Lily’s sister, but she supposed it was safer that way. Y/n would have taken him in a heartbeat, but with her and Remus both grieving and as members of the Order, it would have caused more damage that not. Single tears fell down her cheeks and onto the pillow beneath her as she let her mind wander. She wished there was something more she could do; anything. But as they laid there in each other’s arms, all they needed was to get through the night.

The early morning sun peaked through the drawn curtains, sending small rays of light across their sleeping faces. Y/n stirred first, her tired eyes cracking open to gaze at the man sleeping next to her. Seeing him rest was enough to make the witch’s heart swell with hope.

She hoped that if they could make it through one night, they could make it through the rest.

She hoped that if they could mend their broken hearts, they could slowly go back to places they used to go.

She hoped that if they could take each day one at a time, that maybe, just maybe, they could relearn to live.

They had to be brave.

They had to make a new world to thrive in.

His eyes opened slowly, those hazel eyes she fell in love with so long ago stared back at her. For a moment, they were quiet, almost afraid to speak. But y/n knew they had to eventually.

“Hello, darling.” She whispered, brushing her knuckles against his cheek.

Remus did not smile, neither did she. But his eyes held something that she hadn’t seen for days.

Hope.

Y/n pressed a soft kiss to his forehead; marking the beginning of their journey to heal.

She was determined to keep his kind heart safe. He needed to be mended with care, and she knew she needed to be the one to do it for him.

A little bit at a time.

It had been an achingly laboured path she had forged for them. But over time, they returned to the places they used to love, hand in hand; as they sipped at their tea in old cafes they frequented, or when they walked through the fields in the country, they remembered. They looked back on their memories with their beloved schoolmates -their family. They remembered the sound of Sirius’s laugh and how Lily used to smack James’ head when he told a bad joke. They remembered how it felt to be surrounded by love. They let themselves hurt, but in that pain they found something even more precious. They found their love for one another again. They took their broken souls and hearts down from the high shelves they had sat upon for so long, and let them heal.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Finally, those months turned into a year.

That October night, they stood hand in hand stronger than ever. Y/n laid down a bright bouquet of flowers and ran her hand along the cold headstone.

“Miss you Lils…James I hope you’re behaving up there.” She whispered, voice thick with sorrow. When she stood, Remus held her close, and rubbed her arm as they stared down at their old friends.

After a moment of standing in the cold, y/n looked up at the man she loved dearly and let a small smile grace her face- the first one in a long time. Remus returned it gently.

She looked around to ensure their seclusion, and drew out her wand ; Remus followed suit.

Then in the darkness that surrounded them, they both let the memories of their family fill them up, tears streaming down their faces, and whispered, “Expecto Patronum.”

Two silver wolves danced from the ends of their wands, chancing and playing with one another around the snowy earth until they disappeared into the night.

The two of them held onto that feeling of warmth that finally bloomed inside them. Finally, they felt as if the world stopped spinning around them, and instead spun with them.

They could let go.

For them.

They lived.

#harry potter #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #harry potter imagine #reader insert #angst #this is so sad #wow

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stardusted-bookworm · 2 years

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If you're fine with platonic pairings, then how about the Empire Kids, the day before Zeenoth's trial? I'd imagine that Caleb would be heading off to Aeor, thus why he's not stated to be present.

Big Brother

A/N: I don't know if it was winter in Rexxentrum at the time of the trial but just go with it. Hope you like it!

Caleb Widogast blew into his hands to warm them as he walked up the snow-dusted pathway to the Cobalt Soul in Zadash. He could use magic but... it was nice feeling normal for once. He gingerly pushed open the doors and marched toward the Expositor's rooms.

"Sir? I'm sorry, you can't be in here," a voice called out.

Caleb turned to see a young elf walking briskly toward him.

"The library is closed for the night! You need to leave!"

"Oh no, you misunderstand." Caleb put his hands up. "I am merely here to see—"

"He's with me, Lyari."

Never had Caleb been so grateful to hear that voice.

The elf's eyes widened. "Expositor Beauregard! I, um—"

Beauregard Lionett raised her hand, cutting him off. "Don't worry about it, kid. Just remember for next time."

"Yes, Expositor." The young elf, Lyari, bowed slightly and walked away.

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "What authority you have, Expositor Lionett."

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Shut up." Beau turned and walked back in the direction he had been going. "Well, are you coming?"

Caleb just chuckled and followed after her.

When they got to her room, he was surprised to find Yasha fast asleep on the bed. He didn't think she'd be sleeping with the trial this close, but one look at the dark circles under Yasha's eyes tell him she'd been doing a lot more than most gave her credit for.

Beau smiled fondly at her partner and brushed a strand of hair from her sleeping face. "She's stayed up with me every night leading up to this case. During the late nights and early mornings she was there, a solid presence."

Beau looked up at him tears lining her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without her."

Caleb knew this emotion stemmed from extreme exhaustion, but still, it shocked him to see her so vulnerable like this. Acting purely on instinct, he pulled her into a giant hug. Beau clutched onto the back of his coat like a lifeline.

He had known her for so long and knew how important this trial was to her. These long months of careful planning and evidence gathering took a toll on her physical well-being, but... Every time he saw her, she looked more and more determined. He's heard from Yasha the long hours she'd worked, sometimes not even sleeping for the night.

He was proud of her, but he, more than anyone, knew it was time for a break.

"Beauregard, I know the trial is tomorrow—" he pulled back to look her in the eyes— "but you need a break. Even for a few minutes."

Beau snorted. "Hypocrite."

"Ja, I know. That is why I am telling you you need to take a break. However, I am also understanding of the fact you would like to be prepared. So!"

Caleb pulled away and brought out the components for his Tower. "You get one night to run around the tower, do whatever you wish, only after you run through your case with me."

Beau raised an eyebrow. "Why would running it with you be any different than running it with Yudala?"

Caleb winced. "I, uh, may have areas of expertise that may help... squeeze information out of people without them knowing you are doing it."

Beau's eyes widened. "Holy shit! Are you going to be okay with that?"

He waved her off, but his mouth curled in a grimace. "Ja, anything for friends, right?"

She eyed him suspiciously but walked over to her desk covered with papers, grabbed several things, and returned.

Beau sat criss-cross on the ground. "Okay, so here's what we have."

And for the next several hours, they went over the case for Zeenoth's trial. Every detail was planned meticulously, down to the smallest question the opposing side could hurl.

Every so often, Caleb would make an addendum or critique to an existing detail. If it were anyone else, he knew he would've fallen into a dark pit. But the depth of knowledge Caleb had buried from his Scourger days proved infinitely useful to make Zeenoth and Thoreau Lionett sweat through their shirts.

When they finished, all those hours later, Beau closed her notebook and thumbed the cover. "Thanks, man. For your help, I mean. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You have never needed my help, Beauregard. This case was already very good on its own. I just helped point out extra details that might make the victory that much sweeter."

She pulled him into a giant bear hug, holding on tight. "You're the best big brother a girl could have."

Tears filled Caleb's eyes, blurring the world around him. He just held her tighter, not trusting himself enough to speak. Family. That's what they were. He had a sister now. If tears streamed down Caleb's face, only he and the wall knew.

After several comfortable moments holding each other, Beau pulled back and punched him in the shoulder. Hard. Caleb's pretty sure he heard something break. He would've protested, but he saw her not so subtly wipe tears off her face as well. It was fine... he was sure either someone at the Soul or even Essek had healing spells of some kind.

Voice still cracking with emotion, Beau asked, "So? My reward?"

"Oh, yes, right."

Gritting his teeth their the pain, Caleb once again pulled out his components for the Tower and cast the spell.

"As I promised." He bowed slightly. "Are you going to wake Yasha?"

She looked to her sleeping partner once again. A soft smile creeped over her face. "Nah. She looks so peaceful. I don't want to disturb her. And besides..." Beau shrugged. "I think I need time alone before... everything..."

Caleb nodded. "Well, then, the Tower is yours, Expositor Beauregard."

She sketched a mock bow. "Thank you, Mister Widogast."

And with that, she stepped through the shimmering doorway, vanishing from view.

Caleb reached up to support his shoulder. If it wasn't broken, it was going to be exceptionally bruised. But he couldn't be angry. He was proud of her. She'd come so far from that angry kid, and now here she was. About to take down her abusers the way she should've been able to a long time ago. He was just upset he wouldn't be able to see it in person.

Caleb frowned. Supposedly, the Cobalt Soul didn't want more people than necessary in the court room. That meant Beau's family, the Nein, couldn't be in that room when she finally received her justice. It was bullshit!

He turned to look at the sleeping aasimar and smiled. At least he knew nothing would stop Yasha from being in that room. At least one of them would be there with her.

Wincing, he stood and walked to the desk to find a scratch piece of paper. On it he wrote:

Dear Beauregard,

The tower will be up for the next 23 hours and 53 minutes. Please enjoy yourself. You deserve the break.

I will be leaving for Aeor later this week with... hot boi... and will spend much of tomorrow packing for the trip. I regret that I will not be there to see you win, but know that I am with you in spirit. I hope the bastard gets what he deserves. — Caleb Widogast

And with that, he picked up the note, poked his head into the tower, and called for Johann. When the spectral cat appeared, he said, "Could you give this to Beauregard please, Johann? And make sure the other cats pamper her well tonight. She has a big day tomorrow."

Johann chirped his agreement and gently plucked the note out of Caleb's hands before poofing to wherever in the tower Beau was.

Caleb smiled. What good cats he had. He should spoil them more often.

Glancing out the window, he saw snow coming down hard, almost like a blizzard. Better to teleport then.

Moments later, after several failed attempts, Caleb stood in the foyer of his temporary home in Rexxentrum. He made a couple checklists for packing the next day and went to bed.

Just before he fell asleep, a voice creeped into his head: the young elf from before, Lyari.

"Beau says that it was... a dick move to leave like that and... have fun with hot boi? Expositor Beauregard, are you sure that is—"

Caleb just laughed.

#critical role #empire siblings #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #my writing

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anagentinwriting · 3 years

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Lifeline - Part 12

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 8700+ (whoops!)

Warnings: Angst, language, fluff, jumper/suicidal, snakes

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

AN: Flashbacks in italics

You yawned at your reflection in the mirror, bringing tears to the corner of your eyes. Today was the softball tournament, and Steve was picking you up at 6:30 in the morning. Unlucky for you, when you agreed to go with him as his date, you didn’t think it started this early. Station 107 was playing in one of the first two games of the day. It wasn’t a huge bracket with only twelve teams competing from different fire stations, dispatch call centers, paramedic units, and police departments. Nat and Clint’s West LA Police Department won last year, and they were hoping for another win.

You sighed, splashing your face with cold water, hoping it would shock your body awake, but it only made your face cold. You grabbed a towel, dabbing your face as you stared at your reflection. Your eyes shined back at you, and you couldn’t help the small approving smile spread across your lips. You shake your head, reverting your eyes back to the counter. Only an insane person smiles at themselves in the mirror, but you couldn’t help but look at yourself. Really look at yourself. You looked different, but it was a good different; no dark shadows under your eyes, a calm, relaxed expression, and a smile that came so much easier.

You were happy. It was a weird feeling, waking up refreshed without fear coursing through your veins. You were never going to be the person you were before you met him or even the person you were when you were with him; a weak, abused, and frightened woman. No, this was a whole new you. A stronger you that was finally letting old wounds heal and allowing yourself to move on and start over. You let out a deep breath as your phone vibrated on the bathroom counter.

Steve: Good morning. I’m outside ;)

YN: Be out in a second

You sighed, slipping on the baseball cap Thor gave you to wear with LAFD (Los Angeles Fire Department) stitched on the front with their station number on the back. You let out a breath and smiled at yourself. It was a new exciting feeling, a feeling of improvement, and a fresh start.

________

You sat on the bleachers watching the game between Station 107 and Station 93. The whole team wore the same dark blue station shirt, grey sweatpants, and the same cap you had on. Your eyes scanned the field, finding Steve covering first base. The car ride over didn’t do any justice to his uniform. His shirt was stretched tight across his chest with his biceps bulging out from his tight sleeves, and his joggers hugged tight to his quads. He caught you staring, giving you a little wave before hitting his hand into his glove.

The game was slow to watch, with the lead changing almost every inning. Every time the batter hit the ball, your breath caught in your throat, waiting to see how it would play out. You were caught up in the game when out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar redhead.

“Hey, YN. Guess what? We won!” She nudged you on the arm. “How are Val and the boys doing?”

“Winning, but not by much. Carol needs to get her ass here. I think they’re feeling lost without their Captain,” you smiled, and she nodded in agreement. “Her shift ended about 10 minutes ago, so she should be on her way, and then she’ll set them straight.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. Like, why is Thor catcher?” she pointed at him. “And Bucky at second base? I mean, he can run, put him in the outfield.”

“I was wondering the same thing, but then I realized he already got to second base with you, so...”

“Oh shut up,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “He hit a home run, but I could say the same about you and Steve.”

“And you’d be wrong; we haven’t even got to first base yet.”

“Wait, what!” She slapped your arm. “But, I thought you two have been hanging out for like two weeks. I figured you two would be doing a little somethin-somethin,” she teased, nudging you in the side.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I get why you’d think that, but we’re in no rush,” you insisted with a half shrug, earning a nod from her.

You heard a car door slam and glanced over your shoulder to see Carol charging over to the dugout with her cap and aviators on.

“The boss lady has arrived,” Nat announced loud enough for Carol to shoot you two a smirk.

Everyone huddled around her in the dugout. She used all kinds of hand gestures, some a little inappropriate, but her team stood together, nodding their heads and hanging onto every word like they do when they are on call. With it being a single-elimination tournament, they couldn’t afford to lose. It might have been a charity event, but some teams still came wanting to have bragging rights until next year. When she stood up, they broke apart, and it seemed like everyone's energy changed from defeated to conquering. It was like they finally suited up and wanted to win with two innings left.

Carol was a competitive person and always felt like she needed to take an extra step to prove herself. Growing up, she never got along with her parents; they always insisted she couldn’t do something because she was a girl. No matter how many times she got knocked down, she would always get back up and try again. When she got the job as Captain of the 107th, many men under her didn’t want to follow her orders or be controlled by a woman. Many of those ignorant men left her station, even though she proved herself time and time again. She earned the respect of a few firefighters who stuck around, and to those, she felt earned her respect as well. With everything she has gone through to get this far, you couldn’t help but admire her.

A slight chill ran up your spine, sending a tingling sensation coursing through your body. It forced the hair on your arms to stand up straight and make your hands shake. You rubbed them together, glancing over your shoulder, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. You gulped, sitting up straighter, getting the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. You bite your lip, scanning the faces one by one until they landed on Nat.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, seeing Clint take off running to a van. “But it looks like your cheering section has arrived.”

“On that note, I will be back--” she patted your leg “--I have to go hug my favorite niece and nephews.”

She stepped down the bleachers with a huge grin on her face and ran towards the van. Clint’s daughter met her halfway and pulled her into a hug. She hopped on Nat’s back, and Nat gave her a piggyback ride back over to her parents. You smiled at their interaction. It was such a simple gesture, but it meant so much to both of them.

Family has always been important to you; even when you didn’t think they would be there for you, they still showed up. You always thought you were the glue that held Thor and Loki together, but now, you were almost positive they were the ones holding you together.

Your eyes focused back on the game to see Station 107 heading back out to the field. They were up 3 points, heading into the top of the 7th inning. You couldn’t help but notice that Carol changed their field positions; Bucky and Thor moved to the outfield, but Steve stayed put at first. It’s surprising how moving a few players around made it look like a brand new team, and the game quickly ended with three straight outs, advancing them to the next round. They shook hands with the other team before huddling together in the dugout.

Thor was the first to leave the huddle, making his way over to you with a closed mouth smile plastered on his face. He hit the bill of your hat and continued to walk past you.

“Hey! What was that for,” you shouted at him over your shoulder.

“Felt like it,” he grinned with a shrug, walking backwards.

“Jerk,” you said under your breath, readjusting your hat as Steve approached you.

“Hope you weren’t too bored.”

“No, it was entertaining, watching you all fall over your feet until Danvers showed up and helped you pull off a win.”

“It wasn’t that bad. We kept a good pace with them all the way to the end. Just needed an extra push from Danvers,” he chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. “Did you want to get breakfast?” He offered, pointing to the line of food trucks behind you.

“What....no Wade’s Chimichangas?”

“I don’t think I have the stomach for that this early in the morning.” He rubbed his stomach before offering his hand to you. You took it with a chuckle, walking over to one of the most famous breakfast trucks in LA, Stan Lee Scrambles.

Thor had mentioned to you once before how Stan and his old firefighter crew decided to open up a food truck after they gained popularity. It started out small but soon became very successful, and they had to get a second truck. Everyone loved them, the food, and how they gave back to their community. They didn’t have a huge array of options, but it revolved heavily around breakfast items, including their award-winning breakfast sandwich, The Egg-celsior, a sausage bacon egg english muffin sandwich.

“What can I get you, Big Guy,” the old man, wearing tinted glasses and an old fire station hat, asked Thor.

“Well, Stan...I will take two Egg-celsiors with a side of hash browns and a parfait,” Thor replied, squinting his eyes at the menu. “I think that will do for now, my good man.”

“Coming up, Big Guy.” You smirked at Stan’s nickname for your brother and moved up in line with Steve. “Hiya, Steve. How’s your dog...Cosmo, right?” Stan asked, putting his elbows on the truck's small counter ledge.

“Yeah, he’s doing much better. He’s gotten a lot more friendly and isn’t as skittish. I’ve been teaching him a few commands and lovin’ up on him.”

“That’s terrific to hear. Remember, every relationship starts off a little shaky, but before you know it, the two of you will be inseparable.” Steve nodded with a smirk, as did you, reading into the double meaning. “Now, let’s get you two something to eat; what will it be?”

You and Steve placed your order, and before you could beat him to it, Steve had his wallet out, paying. You shook your head, taking a few steps back to wait for your order to be called. You didn’t miss the subtle wink Stan shot Steve, making your eyes drift to the ground, hoping your hat would hide the bashful smile appearing on your face.

Steve’s feet came into view, and you looked up at him. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“No problem,” he smiled.

“So, what are the chances of you winning the next game? Any big competitors you're worried about?”

“I don’t know.” He lifted up his hat, scratching his head as he leaned in close to you, and whispered. “We’re not that good. We might make it to the next round, but I think the final four is as far as we’ll get.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Observation.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he tilted his head to the fields. “For one, one of the games behind us is already up 5 to 0, and they're still in the first inning. Second, Nat and Clint’s department dominated because Clint hits a home run every time he is up to bat. And three, I think we just want to start drinking.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You seem so sure of yourself.”

“I know a thing or two about baseball, and the odds are stacked against us.” Steve shrugged.

“Maybe, I should’ve joined your team. I’m pretty good with a bat,” you smirked, earning a breathy chuckle out of him.

“Maybe next year, you and Bruce can put together a group of individuals…”

“Let me stop you right there. No and no. I’d rather eat, drink, and watch,” you giggled, making Steve nod in understanding.

Your order was called, and you both went to the counter to pick it up. Steve followed behind you, taking a seat at one of the picnic tables with Bucky, Sam, and Thor. You took the spot beside Sam, and Steve sat across from you next to Thor.

“You did not do that, Sam. I don’t believe you. I bet you made that up,” Thor said, waving his hand around with his Egg-celsior in it.

“I’m not, it’s 100% true.”

“Lies. All lies this guy.” Thor shook his head, sliding over to give Steve a little more room on the end.

“What is he lying about?” Steve asked, unwrapping his breakfast sandwich.

“Thor doesn’t believe I ran five miles in thirty minutes.”

“It’s true; we ran it together once,” Steve confirmed, nodding his head.

Thor rolled his eyes, doing a double-take at someone behind you. “WHAT? Bruce is here! I didn’t know he was coming. YN, did you know he was coming?” Thor pointed at him, talking with Happy by the silent auction tables.

“He told me he was going to try and make it.” You shrugged, glancing over your shoulder.

“BRUCE, BRUCE,” Thor called, standing up in a half-sitting half-standing position at the picnic table. “BANNER, BRUCE BANNER.” Bruce noticed him and waved at him, not wanting any attention. “BANNER, IT’S ME, THOR. YOU POPPED MY CHERRY.”

All eyes in the surrounding area stopped what they were doing and looked between Bruce and Thor. You swore you saw Bruce roll his eyes from more than a few hundred feet away and let out an annoyed sigh before he headed over with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slouched. “Hey, Thor. Fellas, YN, Carol, Val. How was your first game?”

“We won,” Carol answered from the table next to theirs, where she was sitting with Val. “It was a tight game before I showed up.”

“We just didn’t want to win without you, Ace,” Bucky smiled at her, forcing her to shake her head.

“Steve, did I ever tell you how I lost my dispatcher cherry to Bruce?” Thor asked as everyone stood up from your table and the table next to yours, besides you and Steve. “Wait, where is everyone going?”

“To watch the next game starting, but tell Steve the story, we have heard it one too many times,” Val stated, stepping out of the picnic table.

“Yeah, he hasn’t heard it yet; he deserves to hear it at least once,” Sam replied with wide eyes before walking to the bleachers with Bucky, Carol, and Val.

Thor did love telling the story. Maybe a little too much because each time he told it, you swore he added something new to it or remembered something he forgot the other 15 times he mentioned it. It was a story that only needed to be told once, but Thor liked talking about his first time.

You shake your head, sneaking a peek at Steve through your eyelashes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. He caught you staring, widening eyes as if he was asking if they should've made a quick getaway, but it was too late for them.

“That’s right, I did tell those guys,” Thor nodded with an amused smile. “Anyways, Bruce, take a seat. We will tell it together.”

“No, that’s okay,” Bruce assured, holding his hands up “I got to go and...”

“Nonsense. Take a seat, Banner.” Thor tapped on the spot next to him.

“Okay,” Bruce mumbled with a shrug. “Since when do I ever get what I want.” Bruce sits beside him, knowing the faster he got this over with, the faster he could leave. He shot a quick glance in your direction, almost asking for help to make a quick getaway.

“That’s right.” Thor patted Bruce on the shoulder. “Now, it all started when I was working at my first station in LA. I was a young greenhorn, learning the ropes many years ago...

“Thor and Sif,” Captain Heimdall spoke into the walkie on their jacket. “There is an EMT emergency at the Los Angeles Zoo. We are the closest unit, and I need you two to head there now. The team and I will finish putting this blaze out.”

Thor and Sif got into the ambulance as instructed, blasting the sirens, and drove to the access point the dispatcher routed them to. A few zookeepers were waiting as they lead them through the zoo, stopping directly in front of the reptile building. Sif ran to the back of the ambulance and threw a paramedic bag at Thor as she grabbed another bag before running into the building behind the other zookeeper.

“Now, at this point, I never had to deal with the whole paramedic, injured people side of things, so it was an intense situation. Luckily, I was able to stay calm and collected through this whole situation, and I had Sif to thank for that. She remained so focused in these emergencies, I always thought she took Xanax, but it was just her personality.” Thor shrugged, taking a sip out of his water bottle in front of him. “Back to the call...

“Did the dispatcher mention what is happening to either of you?” Zookeeper Carina asked while weaving them through the halls of the building.

“Not much,” Sif answered. “The victim called in mentioning a snake. A few guests must have seen it happen through the viewing windows and called it in, too. I’m hoping you cleared the viewing area for now.”

“Yes, of course, we did,” Carina nodded as they continued down the hall.

“Wait, this involves a snake. I love snakes. My parents got me one when I was younger, thinking it would give me more responsibility, but then my brother let him out of his cage, and he was never found again. I like to think he found a mate, and they are living happily ever after.”

“Great story, Thor, but let’s get to the matters at hand right now,” Sif commanded, earning a serious understanding nod from him. “What’s the current situation?”

“Miek, our 16 foot long 237-pound Burmese python snake from the Asian exhibit, latched onto my fellow zookeeper, Taneleer Tivan, leg, and she started coiling her body around Taneleer’s leg, cutting off his circulation. Taneleer collects snakes, so I don’t know if he read the situation wrong or did something to provoke her.” She shook her head. “It’s protocol to have two zookeepers present during feeding to avoid these types of situations, but his co-worker was running late, so he started the feedings by himself.”

Carina stopped at a door. “He is behind this door.” She opened it, and they both stepped in to see Taneleer holding a phone to his ear, mumbling and grunting. His eyes and head traveled to the door with a faint smile on his lips before he went unconscious.

“OH MY GOD, that snake is huge?” Thor shouted in surprise, seeing the snake wrapped around Taneleer’s leg.

“Taneleer, you still there? Taneleer?” The caller on the speakerphone asked.

Sif went over to pick up the phone and tossed it to Thor. “I’m Fireman Thor Odinson. Who am I speaking with?” Thor questioned, keeping a watchful eye on Sif.

She slowly moved into position to check his vitals while keeping an eye on the snake. Her eyes traveled over his body, further assessing the situation. She noticed multiple bite marks across his stomach that were bleeding profusely, and Miek’s jaw was still latched on tight to his stomach. Sif tried her best to put pressure on the wounds, trying not to disturb the snake while Mieks body seemed to coil tighter around Taneleers leg.

“Dispatcher Bruce Banner here, how is Taneleer doing?”

“He’s unconscious.”

“Okay, how are his vitals?” Bruce asked, but Thor ignored him.

“Carina, do you have any protocol when this happens? Like what is the best way to get the snake off them without harming them?” Sif asked, trying to keep pressure on the wounds.

Her eyes went wide, and she shrugged. “This isn’t usually my area, I fill in where I’m needed, and…and…” her voice drifted off, staring down at Taneleer.

Sif nodded, looking at Thor. “Thor, can you try uncoiling the snake off of his leg.”

Thor nodded, starting at the tail end, but as much strength Thor had, he couldn’t unwrap the snake. “I think Miek is getting pissed. She is making herself tighter and heavier,” Thor grunted through clenched teeth.

“STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING, THOR?” Bruce shouted from the breast pocket on Thor’s shirt.

Thor slowly set down the snake’s body and pulled the phone from his pocket. “Then, what do you suggest we do, Banner?“

“Find some alcohol and put it in their mouth, but make sure the head is pointed downward and make sure it goes into his mouth. The alcohol won’t work if you put it on their face or body.” Carina disappeared as if she remembered something and returned with a small bottle of vodka and a syringe.

“It needs to be the mouth, okay. I got it, but we don’t want to get this snake drunk, Bruce.”

“It will work, trust me. The snake will become disoriented and unlatch herself from Taneleer. Then you will need to slowly unwrap her from his leg. Go slow because you don’t want to make the snake uncomfortable.”

“Got it. You sure she likes vodka,” Thor winked at a blushing Carina, filling the small amount of vodka in the syringe.

“Thor,” Sif shouted at him. “Focus.”

“If she bites me, this is on you Sif, and this Bruce Banner guy.” Thor pointed his fingers at her and then to the phone.

Thor held the syringe just enough to place a few drops into the python's mouth. In an instant, the snake disengaged its teeth and retracted them away from the bite zone. Sif stepped into action and put pressure on the wound while Thor grabbed a hold of his jaw and head, gaining full control of the snake. With his other hand, he pointed to Carina to start unwrapping the snake slowly at the tail end.

“And just like that, another person saved.” Thor smacked the table with a big grin on his face. “If I remember right, you Banner had quite the temper in that situation.”

“Well, when a person needs help, you have to think of the best way to help.”

“How did you know the alcohol trick would work?” Steve asked, looking at Bruce.

Bruce opened his mouth when Thor spoke up for him. “This guy, right here--” he grabbed both Bruce's shoulder and shook him “--took some fancy snake class and learned how to disarm them.”

“It wasn’t for that reason per se, but it was a class at the local herpetology society to better understand situations involving reptiles and amphibians.”

“Exactly, fancy snake class,” Thor smirked, patting him on the back while Bruce nodded his head, rubbing his lips together. You couldn’t help but shake your head at them. These two had nothing in common but that one call they experienced together. “I want you to remember, Bruce, you will always be my first.”

“Okay,” Bruce nodded with a fake tight-lipped smile.

“It was good to see you, Bruce, but I am going to go see if Stan has any more Egg-celsiors left.” He patted him on the shoulder, crawling out of the table and walking back to the truck.

“Good to see you, too.”

“And here I thought my first time was good.” Steve winked at you, forcing you to roll your eyes.

“I will say one thing,” Bruce mentioned, peeking over you to make sure Thor was out of earshot. “He wasn’t that calm. If you ever want to hear the real version, we have it in the archives, it's in my favorites.”

“And here I thought my brother loved snakes,” you added, making both men chuckle.

________

Steve went to warm up for his next game while you made your way over to the bleachers to watch the rest of Nat and Clint’s game.

“YN, come sit with us,” a woman with brown hair called, waving at you with a huge grin on her face. A little boy sat next to her, focused on the game in front of him. You recognized her as the woman Nat hugged earlier. “I don’t think we have been properly introduced, but I’m Laura, Clint’s wife, and this is my youngest, Nathaniel. The little lady in the purple shirt by the fence watching the game is Lila, and the young man next to her is my other son, Cooper.”

You nodded as she pointed at them. “I’m YN, but you seem to already know that,” you smiled, shaking her hand.

“I did, I’ve heard so much about you, and it’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Here join us on the blanket.”

“Thanks.” You plopped down on the blanket, getting comfortable. “Nat’s told me so much about her niece and nephews, too, and they do seem pretty adorable.”

“Do they? Because if I’m being honest, they can be little terrors sometimes, and the sibling rivalry, well don’t get me started,” she huffed, shaking her head.

“Oh, don’t I know it. I’ve experienced plenty of it growing up with two brothers.”

“I can imagine, but I didn’t know you had another brother.”

“Yeah, Loki. He’s adopted.” You shrugged, watching Nathaniel look through one of the books in front of him.

“Was it like sporting event after sporting event growing up? Because let me tell you something, once you have kids and they want to play sports, then that's all you're going to be focusing on until the season's finished. Bye-bye social life.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” you let out a soft chuckle, “but for me, it wasn’t like that growing up. Loki and Thor are two very different people. Loki was more into drama theater, but Thor did play a lot of sports. And their personalities, well, they couldn’t be more opposite. Loki is great to talk to when you need someone to tell you how it is or how something is going to be, but Thor always takes your feelings into account by telling you what you want to hear before telling you what you should hear. Each brother has good and bad traits, but I still loved them and would do anything for them.”

“Do you miss Loki?” She reached over and patted your hand. “I’m assuming he doesn’t live around here because Nat mentioned you’re from New York, right?”

“Ahh, yeah. I miss talking to him and seeing him. We were close growing up and up until I moved at the last minute, but it’s just tough, right now.” You shrugged, biting your lip as your eyes drifted to the field.

You hated not being able to talk to Loki. He helped you through so much, and you hoped he knew that. As dramatic and theatrical as he could be, you missed him. He was often hard to read, but once you cracked his hard shell, he showed a different side of himself, some never get the chance to see. You wished you could tell him what you have been doing lately, but you didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to another cell phone besides your brothers in California, in case Billy was keeping an eye on them.

“I’m sorry--” she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, and your head snapped to hers “--I didn’t mean to pry or anything. I’m just a stay-at-home mom that hasn’t had any adult communication since last week.”

“No, you’re good, Laura,” you smiled at her. “Don’t you have Clint to talk to?”

“He’s like my fourth child. He is the oldest but acts like the youngest,” she whispered the last part, making you let out a loud laugh. “So, tell me...” She nudged your side, tilting her head at something behind you. You turned to see who she was referring to only to spot Steve. “What’s going on with you and Steve?”

“Depends on what has Nat told you?”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be! Wow!” She pushed you, and you laughed, falling onto your side.

“MOM, Dad's up to bat,” Cooper shouted, sprinting over to inform her before going back to the fence.

“Is he? Oh yes, look at that,” she smirked, seeing Clint square up in the batter’s box with the bases loaded.

With the first pitch, Clint swung the bat, sending the ball flying over the fence on the opposite side of the field. He hit a grand slam, earning cheers from his teammates as he jogged around the bases with a fist up in the air.

"Showoff," Laura snorted, shaking her head. “I’ll cue you in on a little unknown fact about Clint. He only hits those over the fence because he doesn’t want to run around the bases.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s the worst, but I love him,” she smiled with a half shrug.

You may have just met Laura, but you already adored her. She was so easy to get along with, and seemed like the type of friend you could share all your secrets with and she wouldn’t tell a soul.

"How long have you and Clint been together?"

“It’s been seventeen long years, but he’s been worth it,” Laura smiled, running her hand through Nathaniel’s mop of hair. “How about you and Steve?”

“Okay, back to me, then.” You shake your head, finding it hard not to smile. You glanced over at Steve to see him talking with Sam, flipping his baseball glove around in his hands. “We’ve been hanging out, but I wouldn’t call it serious.”

“Steve’s a great guy from what I’ve come to understand. I’m pretty perceptive, and let me tell you, not many people can finagle themselves into their little group, but he fit right in. And from what my perceptive powers are telling me, he likes you,” she grinned, tilting her head at him.

You took a deep breath and looked over your shoulder to catch Steve and Sam staring at you. Steve bit his bottom lip, a smirk forming on his lips. You stuck out your tongue at them, making them both laugh as they leaned down to grab their gear for the next game. Steve headed towards the dugout, but you didn’t miss the ever so subtle double-take Steve shot your way. You shot him a cheesy grin, and you could’ve sworn his ears couldn’t get any redder. You chuckled, your eyes drifting back to the game in front of you.

“And that Nathaniel, my little man, is called the double-take. It means Steve is into YN.”

You scoffed. “May I ask what you’re teaching him?” You bit your lip, looking at the smiling boy.

“My perceptive powers, of course,” she said, reaching over and tickling him.

“No, mommy,” he screeched in a burst of high-pitched laughter.

“He’s got the trait. Cooper and Lila are screwed.” She confessed, and you mouthed ‘wow’ with a half-smile on your lips. “Regardless, you two are cute together.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, feeling a rush of heat to your cheeks.

_________

The West LA Police Department took the win and were moving onto the final four. Nat and Clint were walking over together, and Lila took off running towards them. Clint leaned down with open arms, but she ran right to Nat and wrapped her arms around her waist. You didn’t miss Clint let out a sigh of defeat as he stood back up and smirked at them.

“Did you watch us kick the other teams butt?” Nat asked, smiling down at her, patting her back.

“Yeah, you were so awesome, Nat. I want to grow up and be just like you,” Lila grinned, looking up at her.

Clint shook his head at them, giving Lila a knowing look. “Yeah, no, that’s not gonna happen. You wanna give your old man a heart attack or something because I’m not ready for that," Clint sighed, walking over and laying down next to Nathaniel and Laura. He rested his head on his wife’s thigh with a huff. “I’m getting too old for this sh...stuff,” he groaned, closing his eyes and was out like a light.

“Man, I wish I could fall asleep that fast,” Nat admitted, staring down at sleeping Clint.

“Don’t we all,” Laura chuckled. “At least I know where Nathaniel gets it.”

“How’s your team doing?” Nat asked, standing with her hands on her hips.

“I haven’t checked up on them. Been too busy talking with Laura.”

“Happens to most of us. She’s so easy to talk to.”

“She is,” you nodded at Laura, and she shot you a soft smile.

Station 107 won their game, moving them onto the final four, which started after lunch. To your surprise, Happy’s Hydrant was catering the event, and all the food looked delicious. All you had to do was pay for the plate, and all the money collected would be donated to the winning team's charity. Everyone from the team agreed, this last game wasn’t important and that it was time to finally start partying.

_________

It was the bottom of the 7th inning of their final four game with Station 107 down by one point with one out. Val was up to bat, and the current count was one strike and two balls. She stepped back, taking a few quick practice swings before returning to the plate. The pitcher threw the ball straight across the plate, and Val swung with a miss. She stepped back out, shaking her head as her teammates cheered her on from the dugout.

Steve gulped, seeing her set herself back up in the batter's box, doing one more quick practice swing. Steve never really had a one on one conversation with her, but he had a ton of respect for her. He was always impressed with how determined and focused she could be in a high-pressure situation. Those calls were a walk in the park for her, and he knew with the current situation at hand, she would knock that ball out of the park.

The pitcher tossed the ball, and in an instant, it landed in the catcher's glove slightly out of the strike zone.

“Strike 3, you’re out,” the umpire called, making a fist with his hand. Val stood there with a questioning glare at the ump before she turned around and walked away.

“What the fuck?” Steve commented under his breath, pushing his way out of the dugout and passed Val. “What kind of fucking call was that, ump?”

“If you don’t like the call, you can get out of here.” The ump stood tall in front of him, but it didn’t do much since he was shorter than Steve.

“The ball was nowhere near the damn strike zone, and she didn’t even swing at it. She’s not out.”

The umpire tore off his mask. “Listen here, buddy, I’m in charge here--” He stepped closer to Steve and poked him on the chest with his mask “--from my view, she swung the bat but didn’t commit to it. Get over it or get out.”

“You know what I think…” Steve started, but Bucky showed up, forcing himself between them. Sam stepped in and grabbed a hold of Steve’s arm, pulling him back to the dugout.

“All good, Rumlow, all good. It’s just a friendly annual charity grill-out game. Can’t we all just get along,” Bucky added with a slight smirk, walking backwards to the dugout.

“Keep your new recruit under control, and we won’t have a problem.” Rumlow shook his head and pulled his mask back on with Thor up to bat next.

“Who is that guy?” Steve asked Sam, taking a seat on the bench in the dugout.

“Brock Rumlow. You kind of took his job.”

“What do you mean, I took his job?”

“We were going to hire him, but then, Bucky told you to apply, and you got it.” Sam patted his back. “He is not very fond of our station anymore, but you were the more qualified candidate.” Sam squirted his water bottle into his mouth. “It’s probably why Val didn’t say anything to him about the call because she saw who it was and knew it wasn’t worth the fight.”

“I see,” Steve nodded, taking a drink from his water bottle. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing you watching him. Nat was saying something to you, but your attention was on him. He held up his hand with a slight smirk to show you he was fine, and you nodded at him.

“Why am I always cleaning up your messes,” Bucky inquired, plopping down in the seat next to him.

“Bad timing,” Steve smiled, forcing Sam and Bucky to shake their heads.

You and Nat stepped down from the bleachers when the game ended, with Station 107 losing by 2 points. Nat nodded at you, leaving to prepare for the championship game. Once you realized the umpire was Rumlow, you and Nat knew it was inevitable that they were going to lose. Rumlow knew how to hold a grudge, and he was still holding onto it. You shot Steve a side smirk as he walked over to you.

“And here, I thought you guys didn’t care about the game, and who knew you were so competitive?”

“What can I say, I got into it a little bit. We all did.” He shrugged with a tight smile.

“You did,” you chuckled, patting him on the bicep. “The ump was making some terrible calls anyways, and it doesn’t help he’s an asshole.”

________

You sat down in the same spot at the picnic table from earlier, and Bucky and Steve joined you, still talking about their loss.

Bucky took a bite of his BBQ ribs and grabbed his napkin, wiping the sauce from his lips. “It’s a good thing you’re not in charge of the grill, Steve? You remember what happened that one time.”

“What are you talking about? I’m great on the grill.”

“Yeah, but there was that one time, Peggy threw you that Fourth of July Birthday bash at your new house. You were on the grill and had the gas turned on too high and when you lit the match, a fire blaze shot up in the air. Hell, I thought you were going to lose your eyebrows, but Peggy was more worried about the house,” he chuckled with a crinkled-eyed smile, shaking his head.

“In my defense, it was a new grill,” Steve snickered. “I didn’t know what it was capable of yet.”

“Who’s Peggy?” You asked, glancing between Steve and Bucky, who seemed to be in their own little world. They fell silent as Steve bit his lip, shooting Bucky a hard glare. Bucky looked away from him, shoving more mashed potatoes in his mouth.

“Story for another time.” Steve peeked over at you, letting out a breath. He moved his potatoes around on his plate as a few different expressions crossed his face.

“I understand,” you nodded, taking a sip of your drink.

You knew better than anyone that there was a time and place for certain things to be shared, and this was not one of those times; it was too public. You took a bite of your sandwich, trying to remember if Steve mentioned Peggy before, but you don’t think he ever did. You peeked up at him across the table to see him laughing with Bucky, but it seemed forced. It wasn’t the hand clutching to the chest kind of laugh or the adorable chuckle that made the butterflies erupt in your stomach. It was almost like it didn’t have a sound, but the emotion hiding behind it was there, like a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He was physically here, but his mind was somewhere else. Whoever this Peggy was, she was special to him.

“Clint and Nat’s team is fucking dominating; 12 to 2 in the bottom of the 4th. They should just call it at this point. It’s tough to watch,” Sam stated, sitting down next to you.

Everyone’s head at the table nodded in agreement. Your eyes started to wander around the park, noticing the whole Barton clan invested in this game. The line to Happy’s Hydrant was still long but moving swiftly. Thor, Val, and Carol were talking with a group of people by the beer wagon, paying no attention to the game. Your focus returned to the table, hearing Bucky comment on Nat’s uniform, forcing Sam to roll his eyes and bring his sandwich to his mouth.

“I’m gonna head back for seconds; do you want anything else? I can grab it for you,” Steve asked, catching your wandering eyes.

“I’m fine, thanks, though.” You smiled up at him, and he nodded, stepping out of the picnic table.

Steve stood back in Happy’s line, which was much longer than it was the first time he went through. Drunk munchies, he assumed. He glanced over at you and couldn’t help but smile. Sam must have made a comment about you and him because you smacked Sam on the arm as your gaze landed on his. You waved at him with a playful smile while giving Sam a stern look.

He couldn’t help but smirk at your interactions with the guys. They were a rowdy bunch, but you could always hold your own against them and put them in their place, even him. Every joke you made, every laugh that escaped you, and every smile you shot his way made his heart leap in his chest. It was a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time, a feeling he hasn’t felt since Peggy.

"Is this the line for Happy's?" A guy behind him asked, interrupting his daydream.

“It is, yes,” he nodded, turning around to look at the guy, wearing a Northeast LA police department t-shirt and cap.

“Was your department playing today?” Steve questioned, pointing at his shirt.

“Oh no,” the bearded man chuckled. “We prefer being spectators and drinking.” He pointed behind him to a group sitting by the game with lawn chairs and coolers.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Steve smirked, shaking his head.

“What’s it like being a firefighter at the 107th?” He gestured to Steve’s shirt. “Doesn’t Thor work at that station, too?”

“Yeah, he does. Good guy.” The brunet nodded in agreement. “I like it. It’s both a physically and mentally demanding job, but I enjoy it.” Steve shrugged, grabbing a few extra napkins from the table.

“Same with me, but we aren’t fighting fires or rescuing kittens from trees.”

“If only it was that easy,” Steve nodded, narrowing his brows. “How do you know, Thor?”

“He helped me with a call a few months ago….it was a jumper,” he gulped, putting some vegetables on his plate as they made their way down the line. “I was the first officer on the scene. I was working on talking him down, and then this big intimidating guy from the 107th showed up, had a heart to heart with the guy, and he got down off the ledge. It was amazing to watch.”

“Did Thor tell the guy his wife left him and that he found himself in a similar situation?”

“Yeah.”

“Thor made that up on the spot.” The guy furrowed his brows at him, not really understanding. “You see, sometimes to calm people down in these stressful situations, we try to find some common ground. In this case, Thor made up the story about his wife leaving him, and it ended up saving the guy’s life.”

“Wait, so Thor was never married.”

“Nope,” Steve smirked, taking a couple more BBQ ribs for his plate. “We do what we have to do to save lives, even if it means making up an emotional story for the victim to know they are not alone, and people still care.”

You glanced over at the food buffet to see Steve talking to someone in a dark blue cap that you didn’t recognize. Steve always seemed to be able to start up a conversation with anyone, even though he seemed like a quiet guy. Bucky snapped his fingers in front of your face, pulling you away from them.

“Eyes on me, darling, eyes on me.” He pointed his middle and forefinger at his eyes than to yours. “Stop giving Steve all the attention. He’s the real troublemaker.” Bucky shook his head. “Has he told you about all the stupid things he did when he was younger and how I had to rescue his ass?”

“A little,” you snickered, pinching your thumb and forefinger together. “And here, I always thought you were the troublemaker.”

“Nope, all Steve. You’d be surprised how often I got into trouble for shit he did. He’s such a punk.” You couldn’t help but grin at Steve’s back, shuffling down the buffet line.

Steve hesitated before scooping one more serving of potatoes on his plate. He deserved a few more carbs after playing softball all day and consuming copious amounts of water. “Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name?”

“Oh, my friends call me Jig.”

“Jig?” Steve mumbled, cocking his head to the side. “I bet there is a story behind that one, but I’m Steve.”He held out his hand, and Jig shook it. “I better get back to my squad, but it was nice talking to you.”

“You too. I’ll see you around, Steve.”

________

“Do you think Cosmo is staring at the door waiting for you to come home? I miss that pretty boy,” You suggested, standing next to Steve watching the final game between West LA Police Department and Fire Station 113.

“Maybe,” he smirked. “I know he misses you. Won’t stop talking about it.” He shook his head, making you bite back a smile. “He wanted me to ask if you wanted to come over after this?” He shrugged, acting all innocent. “I told him I would ask, but I wasn’t promising him anything.”

“What...like a play date?”

He chuckled under his breath, eyeing you with his blue orbs. “I guess you could say that.”

You turned your head to the ground, biting your lip. “Yeah, I'd love to, but only if it's okay with his Dad. I know he has a strict bedtime.”

“I think he will let this one slide this time,” Steve murmured next to your ear, wrapping his arm around your back and putting his hand on your hip. You leaned closer to him and wrapped your hand across his waist, pulling him closer to you.

“Where is Cosmo anyway?”

“My neighbor is watching him, and let me tell you, he is not a fan of her. I think if he sees you, he will be much happier, and then he’ll forgive me for leaving him with her.

“I’m sure he will. If not, I’ll talk to him and put in a good word for you.” You squeezed his side and shot him a promising smile, forcing him to shake his head at you.

“Thank you.”

To no surprise, the West LA Police Department won with the scoreboard shining 18 to 7. They decided to forfeit after the 6th inning, knowing they weren’t going to be able to catch them. It was a boring game to watch, but you were in good company.

________

The car ride to Steve’s house sent a chill up your spine and a warm rush to your face. It was a sensation you couldn’t explain. The butterflies in your stomach erupted, and every nerve in your body made your skin tingle with anticipation. You hung out at his apartment a few times before, but tonight something felt different. You sighed, leaning back in the passenger seat, staring out the windows and watching the sky change colors. It was a beautiful sight. You glanced over at Steve, watching him bob his head along to Marvin Gaye. He tapped his hand on the steering wheel as his gaze caught yours and cracked a coy smile, causing your heart to race.

You walked up the steps behind Steve to his apartment on the second floor. He opened the door to let you in, so he could retrieve Cosmo from his neighbor. You stood next to the island by the front door with your hands on the counter, listening to the quick chit-chat Steve was having with his neighbor. You heard paws charging down the hallway followed by footsteps not much later. Under the door, you could see the shadows dancing and hear Steve giving Cosmo a little pep talk.

“Okay, Cosmo. Someone decided to come visit you, but you have to promise me you won’t embarrass me.” Cosmo whined, and you couldn’t help but think how cute it was. “You’re gonna embarrass me, aren’t you?” Cosmo barked in response, and Steve let out a loud sigh.

The front door creaked open, and Cosmo charged in, his head looking around the room until his eyes landed on you. He ran over to you with his front paws landing on you.

“Hello to you too, Cosmo,” you grinned, scratching the top of his head. “I heard you missed me.” His tail continued to wag, and it hit the kitchen cabinet, but he didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

“See, I wasn’t kidding when I told you he missed you.”

“I see that now. Did you miss me, Cosmo?” You crouched down, rubbing his ears, and he licked your face. “Yuck, Cosmo, no kissing.” You shake your head and wipe the drool off your face.

“Did you want anything to drink?” Steve offered, opening a cabinet with glasses. “I was thinking about opening a bottle of wine?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a glass.” You nodded, standing up straight at the end of the bar with Cosmo sitting right beside you, waiting for another scratch.

Steve grabbed two glasses, setting them on the counter. “See, all he wants is your attention; he could care less that I am here.”

“I’m sure he still loves his Dad.”

“He kind of has to; I feed him,” he breathed a small smirk, shrugging his shoulder. He grabbed a wine bottle at random from the small rack on the counter. He opened the bottle, pouring it into the glasses, and handed you one. “What’s the movie going to be tonight?”

“Have to check the list.”

You turned to follow Steve to the living room when you tripped over Cosmo, and the wine glass fell from your grasp. It crashed on the hardwood floor, shattering into tiny little pieces. Your hand covered your mouth, feeling a chill run up your spine. As you stared down at the floor, your heart sped up, causing tears to peek at the corner of your eyes. A lump formed in your throat, making it harder to breathe, and your hands started to tremble. You felt him reach out and touch your shoulder, forcing you to jump back and stare at him with wide eyes. In a glimpse, you saw Billy standing where Steve used to be. A sob escaped your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. When you opened your eyes, Steve was holding his hands up, his mouth was moving, but his words weren’t reaching your ears.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, backing away from him.

“It’s okay, YN, we’ll clean it up. It was an accident. These things happen.”

“No, no, I should go. I forgot I had...um...I’m sorry. I should go.” You grabbed your jacket and took off out the door with tears streaming down your face.

The door closed with a loud bang, causing Cosmo to whine at the door. Steve let out a deep sigh, looking at the door and then at his dog. “What am I going to do, Cosmo?” He ran a hand down his face, walking over to grab his broom.

______

AN: Thanks for reading Part 12! Soooo much happened in this part, so where do I start. I originally thought about breaking this part into two, but got lazy, and was like nahhh! Haha! But what a way to end it, am I right?! Everything was going so well until it wasn't. 😬 What is Steve gonna do now? Do you think Cosmo feels bad about it? Poor pup! Did you like the Stan Lee cameo? Whenever I write a story, I try to add him in since he is the one who started it all! And what did you think about the story of Thor losing his dispatcher cherry? I don’t know anything about snakes, I just googled and this is what came up, so it could be inaccurate, but regardless, I hope you at least got a little laugh out of it! Anyways, thanks for reading, comments are always welcome!

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keysmashingfantasies · 3 years

Text

Funny Girl

chapter two

summary: after being away for a while, Bucky is back with a mission. ft. Sam and Uncle Gus being the little shits that they are.

A/N: i am terribly sorry for the delay, i haven't been on my game but i am back. also, if there's any spelling mistakes, i apologize for that as well but my laptop is in a better place now (f in the chat). so im writing from my phone. but i hope you like nonetheless. please feel free to leave some feedback! ALSO, very important!: tw for self loathing, body image issues and bullying!

He did not ask her next Tuesday.

He and Sam had to save the world yet again. It was crazy how much Sam and Steve were alike. That might've explained why Bucky felt so infuriated with both of them. Steve now had a desk job, officially retired and laying low. Really low. So low almost no one knew he was alive, but he was. Bucky swears that if it wasn't for the serum those two would've damaged his blood pressure a long time ago.

Sam and Bucky were on a mission to tear down a human trafficking ring, which meant packing their bags and hopping onto a jet again and again and again. The jet lag and paperwork were insufferable enough but now there was the cherry on top of the cake that was at least two months without seeing her. He got distracted. Not enough to ruin things but definitely enough for Sam to notice.

"You mean to tell me you just almost took a bullet on purpose?", said Sam.

"Yup. I meant to do that", said Bucky.

"Uh huh. So what's her name?", said Sam.

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, not even on that fight in that German airport with everyone under the sun after us I saw you get asleep on the wheel like that. Also, AJ and Cass might've told their favorite uncle that their second favorite uncle has been coming back from the veteran home with cartoon hearts over your head. Soooo, what's her name?", Sam said while laughing into his takeout box. Bucky looked at his flesh forearm, the mark of where the bullet grazed his arm was starting to heal already.

"Y/N. Her name's Y/N", he mumbled.

"So she's that comedian that got you on a leash?", Sam smirked. Never in a million years he thought he would see THE Bucky Barnes, public broody asshole number one in love. He was going to have so much fun.

"Cheer up, Romeo. We will probably be done with this case in a couple of weeks. Then you can go put on some tights and go sing under her window or whatever you used to do back in the day"

"Shut up, Sam"

Bucky hated when Sam was right. Most of the time. This was not one of them.

Two weeks later, they were back in Delacroix and by Friday Bucky was almost vibrating with anxiousness as if it was a first date. He barely could hold itself together while playing checkers with Gus.

"Calm down, boy, she's coming", he said and Bucky felt like a deer in headlights, his eyes widening as Gus laughed.

"I- I don't", he started to talk but was interrupted by Gus.

"Yeah, of course you don't. I'm not dumb, y'know. Been alive for a long time. Not as long as you but...", he said before laughing again. Bucky couldn't help but smile from relief and because just how much you and Gus resembled each other.

"You could show me some respect. I'm older than you, y'know", he said as Gus rolled to the dresser to put the board away. He froze again as a laugh that could only be described as angelic hit his ears.

"Look at you two, fighting like an old couple", she said as Bucky turned around to take her in.

He was glad he was sitting down. When she was in the room, everything around her seemed to blur. Especially when she smiled at him like that, walking so the blue dress she was wearing swishes around gracefully around her plump body. She was holding the handle of the tote bag over her shoulder like a lifeline, her chubby fingers losing circulation. When she managed to give up her safety blanket, for Bucky's relief since he was almost prying her fingers off of the fabric and massaging her hand so the blood flow could return to it, he saw some mushrooms embroidered on it with the saying "FUNGUY" over them. Bucky's heart melted and he wanted to smile even wider. She was wearing black sneakers and a glint in her eyes. Bucky didn't think he'd go to Heaven after the lives he had, but in that moment he was glad that he got that little free sample to hold on to.

"I'm not the one in a couple here, Funny Pants. Now if you'll excuse me", Uncle Gus said as he started wheeling his way to the door.

"Where you going?", she said, and Bucky tried and failed to hold a smile when he looked at her, her brows scrunched up and her hands on her round hips, smiling slightly like someone that was trying to scold a child that said something funny but wildly inappropriate.

"Uh, getting jello, complaining, old man things. Don't wait for me", he said. He held up until he was out of sight but her and Bucky could hear his boisterous laughter after he turned the corner.

You were suddenly aware of everything. How you were standing, looking, breathing. Oh God, you should've contoured. What would he think of your dirty sneakers? You felt like you did when you were younger, and your friend tried to set you up with a boy she all but begged to give you your first kiss out of pity. It took an herculean amount of strength to hold your act.

'I can do it, I can do it, I can do it', you mentally repeated your mantra as you lifted your chin to look up at his blue eyes.

'Fuck, I can't do it', you thought as you subtly tried to scan his face with your eyes, and seeing his goofy smile and dimpled chin, you couldn't help but smile too, even if your body felt uncomfortably hot besides the block of ice that was your chest and stomach.

Bucky wanted to hop on his bike, ride all the way to Stark's go back in time and smack himself on the back of the head, even if it caused the universe to collapse or whatever Banner said. Not even flowers? Nothing? After being gone for so long? God, he was rusty.

'Come on, Barnes. You've been through it. Like riding a bike, turn on the charm, think of something. Something besides her standing right in front of you...'

"So... Funny Pants, eh?", he said with a wide smile. He would remember this.

"Don't you dare!", she said with that cute frown again, her lips were in a pout before cracking up and laughing loudly, and Bucky swears he's never wanted to kiss someone so bad.

And just like that, the ice was broken between the two again.

"He calls me Funny Pants since I was a kid. There's a story behind it, actually", she said.

"Yeah? Tell me about it", he said, stepping slightly closer. She smiled. Shyly this time, romantic. She was blushing. Bucky wanted to see just how much he could make her blush.

"I was a very comedic child and so my life decided to bump up the awkwardness to go with it", they chuckled in unison. "Me and Uncle Gus used to tell knock knock jokes to each other all the time. And one day at school I was trading stickers with my friends and when I got home he was there. So, I told him a knock knock joke. And then when I turned around somehow I had a glittery butterfly on my butt. So he started to call me Funny Pants", she said. Bucky wanted really hard to be charming, but he was laughing until his face turned red and he was holding his side at the absolutely adorable image of an even smaller you, with a sparkly butterfly stuck on your butt, hands on your hips and cute frown like you had earlier when Gus teased you.

"Oh, I bet it was so cute", he said, finally calming down and evening out his breathing.

You could remember the relentless teasing that followed you for a long time after. Your smile faltered a bit, but it came back as soon as you saw how much Bucky was laughing. You remembered why you started comedy. Yes, at first it was a way of - sometimes quite literally- beating your bullies to the punch and pointing out your insecurities before they could. Sometimes if you made them laugh before lunch time they would even let you got back to the classroom unscathed. It was such a bittersweet feeling.

You loved making people laugh, make them happy. But you couldn't forget that the start of it all was simply broadcasting the mean comments that plagued your mind in a comedic way, making an absolute fool of yourself to an audience of tormentors so they could maybe leave you alone for a few days, just time enough so you could come up with a new routine.

But that was no more. That was past. You were pretty, lovable, worthy of good things, and no worse than anyone else. Even if you had to remind yourself of it sometimes.

"Nah, I was pissed. It was useless, I had wings on my butt and STILL had to walk home? Absurd", you said in mocking indignation, huffing out a breath and making Bucky beam with laughter again.

Bucky laughed more and more after coming to Delacroix and going to therapy. But he couldn't remember the last time he laughed this hard. Probably the last time he saw you.

After you two stopped chuckling, you fell into a comfortable silence, taking each other in. Time stood still between you, it could've been a minute, a thousand years, a millisecond, an eternity. Usually both Bucky and you would feel insecure with feeling looked at, although one didn't know this about the other yet. But that wasn't the case. Your gaze felt like a caress across his skin, he could almost feel it. The playfulness was gone from your eyes but you didn't look mad or unhappy, you looked serene. Soft. He wanted to lift his hand and touch you. Slowly, carefully, like one would handle a flower as to not damage its petals. That's exactly how he saw you. A flower. So beautiful, you just started blooming before his eyes and he would handle you with utmost care. His Ma had raised him right, after all.

While all that Bucky felt was soft airy warmth, like the breeze that although hot, managed to refresh your sweaty face at a lazy summer evening, you felt hot. Like lightning, like molten lava. It was sultry but careful. Under the smoldering gaze of Bucky, you felt seen but not scrutinized. Pretty and sexy, but not objectified. You felt as if his beautiful blue eyes were seeing your soul. Raw and unfiltered, way more than just the class clown schtick you showed the world. You wondered for a moment if that's what sailors felt before jumping in the ocean at the becoming call of a mermaid. If that's what passion felt like. You wouldn't know, but if it was this, now you understood what everyone was raving about. You had been with others, but Bucky managed to bend your body at his will without even touching you. You blushed at the thought of him touching you, your shyness powerful enough to be able to break free of his spell for a second to drag over his black and gold arm, somewhere in the back of your mind your rational self managed to squeak out a note of pride at him for not hiding it before your mind was overcome with the feeling of being bared to someone in the best way possible, paralyzing you to stare at your dirty pair of Converse sneakers. It was a spell.

"Hey, you asked her out yet?", a loud voice managed to break the spell between you. You looked like a dear in headlights, eyes wide and cheeks warm and flushed. Bucky looked annoyed at the door.

"Sam!", he gritted out.

"Uh... I'm sorry, sorry", he said, slowly backing away with his hands raised in surrender, his neck shrinking into his shoulders in a way it would've made you laugh and make some kind of pigeon joke if you weren't so awestruck.

"I'm late for the community garden duty before my performance", you managed to stutter.

"Probably, yeah", he said, and you couldn't help but look at his stubble covered Adam's apple as he tried to swallow down the knot of anxiety on his throat.

"That was Captain America", you weakly pointed at the door.

"Yes, and he is an idiot", he said, annoyed. But it didn't last. He couldn't be annoyed near you for long.

"He said you were going to ask me out", you whispered. Was this a dream? It was, wasn't it?

"I was", he mumbled, eyes wide as saucers boring into yours.

"Was? Not going to anymore?", you whispered, your hand dropped to your side but still with your pointer finger out.

"I am going to", a beat of silence. "Uh, right now, going to right now", he said. "Would you go out with me? To dinner?", he said.

"Yes", you breathed out. Unknown to both of you, Sam and Gus were in the other room laughing at your school-like crush antics. Bucky's memory flashed to what Sam told him earlier, "You're whipped, man".

God, Bucky really hated when Sam was right. Most of the time.

taglist: thank you so much for the patience and support! i really hope you enjoyed it!

@divine-mistake @rosaline-black @luc-ale @alyssatjuhhh

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x chubby reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x female reader #tfatws fanfiction #tfatws imagine #bucky barnes imagine #tfatws x reader

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kimjihyun-archive · 3 years

Note

Eeeeeek! Im so excited that u have opened prompts ❤❤❤😳🥺🥺🌻 i honestly love your writing so much! Its brightens my day and melts my heart ❤❤🌻🥺gaaaaaah and i could write an essay about how much i adore the way u write jumin❤🌼😱✨🎆 hehehe okay okay im getting side tracked....

Could i pretty please with sprinkles ontop request prompt 9. First kissed for Jumin 🥺🥺

Thank u so much dear and i hope u have a wonderful day! //sends hugs❤🌼🌻

fondness | jumin han

WARNINGS: it’s snowing!!, jumin is the gentleman that he always is and i fuckin love him for it, they kiss in the snow. that’s it. that’s the fic

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s literally been like four days since i wrote jumin and i missed him dearly. i’m so honored that you enjoy my writing and i’m always more than happy to fulfill your requests!! thank you for such kind words <33

She likes the way his hair carries snowflakes.

It’s a silly detail to catch, really, but under the glow of streetlamps and the humming of city sidewalks, each strand is dotted white, composing a lifeline out of his head.

Her hands tuck under her arms, shielding frigid fingers from the stinging of winter nights, and she’s smiling wider than she has in a long time. Whether that be from Jumin’s low words or the buzzing of red wine on her lips, she’s not sure, but she’s enjoying it nonetheless.

“And you’re sure you can make it home alright?” His voice is warm in a way that she’d never expect from him. His tone is hushed and his words crafted so eloquently, but there’s a gentle lilt that peaks with his interest—one that she finds herself absolutely enthralled by.

“Of course,” she replies. There’s a smile tucked into her cheeks, but as his gaze falls to her fingers, she pulls that from her own grasp, twisting them together in front of her.

“My driver would take the utmost care of you on your way. I’d make sure of it.” She laughs breathlessly, and his brows raise. There’s this seriousness bubbling deep within his expression—a worry that makes her skin flush.

“No, no, Jumin it’s only a few blocks—nothing I haven’t done before.” His lips press together into a frown and with a gentle hesitation, his hands reach forward, grasping cold fingers within his own.

Suddenly, he’s fumbling with his gloves, pulling them off of his hands and stuffing them into hers. His expression is soft, a focus upon his lips and a gaze directed towards her hands.

“You’re freezing.” He slips them over her fingers, adjusting the wool to fit her the best it can. “Please, I insist on getting you home safe and the car is only a call away.”

She tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, wiggling into the gloves, and she’s absolutely hypnotized by the warmth. Truthfully, she isn’t entirely sure why she’s denying the ride. Call it pride or stubbornness or an insistence to impress her date with her independence—but whatever it is, it’s strong. She’s never been one to back down from a challenge, but as she’s learned, the man in front of her isn’t either.

Though she supposes walking home in the cold isn’t much of a challenge as it is an inevitable sentence of a cold, and she’s sure he agrees.

“You’re welcome to share my car if you so wish.” The proposal is sudden, her eyes growing wide, but his voice is warm. He finishes pulling at the gloves on her hands, his fingers remaining intertwined with hers, an exchange of numbed touches forming between them. “If I’m honest, I don’t quite understand your insistence not to burden the other drivers, but if you’re willing to ride with me, it’d be no hassle to anyone involved.”

Something in her nods before she can truly think about it. His voice is alluring and his gaze is strong, and it’s enough to lure her in. He smiles—a little thing that clings to his lips, and it remains as he directs her towards the other side of the pavement, his hand secure on the center of her back.

The snowfall’s grown harder than it was when they stepped outside, stray flakes falling between her fingers. She fiddles with them, watching as the shapes melt into Jumin’s gloves and leave tiny spots in the wool. He’s typing something into his phone (a text to his driver if she had to guess), one thumb reaching over each of the keys.

His free hand is still resting on her back, fingertips drumming lightly against her skin. The feeling has her melting into puddles, but his face is stagnant—half his attention on her and half on the screen.

“They should arrive in a few moments.” His screen clicks as he presses the off button, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Driver Kim is always very punctual.”

She hums in reply, her gaze still fixated on the melting snow in her fingers and, of course, he notices. He reaches out, an exposed palm catching stray flakes, his wrist shifting towards her. His hands, free from the gloves he’d been wearing minutes ago, are cold enough that the snow doesn’t melt right away, leaving enough time for her to study the shapes.

Her hands fall below his, curling a glove beneath his fingers, her pointer rooting through the soft pile forming upon his skin. Most of the snowflakes still melt under her touch, but a few stand out against her, the delicate shape shining in through the low light of the city.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” She finally looks up, her eyes meeting his, curiosity spreading wide across his cheeks.

“They are,” he replies. “I usually wouldn’t have much time to observe such things.”

“Well, that’s time you should make.” Part of her begins to sink as he raises a brow—hoping she didn’t urge too much from him, but he nods, flexing his fingers in the freezing air. He smiles then, soft and wide, a little more comfort easing into her voice.

“It’s important to make time for the little things. Otherwise, they slip away.” She pushes a piece across his hands, watching as it melts with her movement, the jagged remains tucking into his skin.

“You’re right,” he muses, his eyes focusing on the way she stares down into the snow. “I should make more time for such observations.”

“Yes, you should.” She finally looks up at him, dropping his hand as a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

She watches as his cheeks pinken, a cruel mixture of freezing air and the flustering feeling of being too close gathering on his face. His fingers reach up, gentle and slow as they approach her, the pad of his thumb brushing across her lips.

He’s freezing—so direly in need of gloves—but they’re resting on her hands, protection that he chose to provide her from the stinging of winter air. She shivers under his touch, the softness of adoration blooming throughout her face.

Something lingers on his features—unspoken words that seem to bob between his throat and his lips, an unformed sound clawing at his vocal cords. She cocks her head to the side, expression softly contorting into the same curiosity he’d held moments ago.

“May I—” The words die in his throat, the thought-to-be-impossible expression of insecurity bubbling from Jumin’s mouth. “May I kiss you?”

Her heart pounds in her chest and she nods without much of a thought. Her pulse is loud—unruly in the back of her ear. Jumin leans in, the deep scent of mahogany swarming the air as he reaches out to her. His lips brush her own, a motion so soft that her body begins to tingle down to her fingertips.

He’s careful—unwavering in his affection, yet too conscious of where he is to move any further, instead choosing to observe her reaction, his eyes falling gently upon her skin.

Her hands wrap around his collar, balled fists turning the stripes of his shirt into uneven lines as she falls deeper into him They linger for a moment, an exchange so delicate that neither wishes to leave it so soon, but as tires begin to slow on the other side of the street, their hand is forced.

His chest rises and falls with a shudder in between each breath, lips swollen and numb against his face. Her hands linger against his button-down a moment longer, but as he opens his mouth to speak, her fingers unwind, falling to her sides.

“Would you consider that one of the little things?” His voice is smooth, as well put together as ever, even as his skin flutters under her gaze.

She laughs, watching as the city streets bustle with their late-night inhabitants, and the glow of streetlamps spill across the sidewalk, and snowflakes fall into his hair—the strands hanging just above his cheeks.

“If you’d like to, I suppose. But I’d consider it a rather big one.” He nods, the shadow of a smile painted across his lips.

“Yes, yes, I believe so too,” he replies, the steady hum of his voice warm as he directs her towards the car. “A big one.”

#jumin han #jumin han x reader #jumin han x mc #mysme #mystic messenger #mysme fanfic #nad-zeta

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ssa-babygirl · 3 years

Text

Out of my League [Part 6]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: JJ gives you some bad news and Spencer feels like he’s only making matters worse. For both of you.

Warning(s): Angst, mentions of grief and death, allusions to relapse, swearing, mentions of drinking, this is lowkey a mess so i may have missed a couple of warnings

Author’s Note: IT’S HERE!!!! YAY!!! that’s the happiest you’re gonna be all chapter. The next one may take a bit of time and i am SORRY for that because this may or may not have a sorta cliffhanger you should just read it to find out!! also heads up there are a lot of perspective changes later on please just imagine how it would be cut together in a movie that’s how i wrote it OK ENJOY DON’T BE MAD JUST TRUST ME OK??

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington, D.C., 2011

(Reader POV)

You’d gone to three different funerals since moving to D.C. Three more than you would have liked, obviously, no one ever really wants to go to a funeral.

The first had been your father’s. You had Jamie and your mom, but you needed Spencer. He was out on a case and you couldn’t blame him for not being there, but he made up for it a million times over. Your dad’s death wasn’t unexpected, and while it hurt to say goodbye, it was relatively easy to move on.

The second had been for Aaron’s ex-wife, Haley. You didn’t really know her, but Aaron was your friend and you wanted to support him. That and Jamie got along very well with Jack, acting almost as an older cousin, and you know how important family is when you lose a parent.

The third and most recent funeral was the worst one: Emily’s. She was there one day, raring to go and take on the world, gone the next.

The day you found out was just terrible. JJ had called you herself to tell you. You managed to stay calm until you hung up, when you practically threw your phone onto the kitchen table and collapsed into a chair, tears pouring down your face as silent sobs wracked your body.

Jamie ran in at the sound of you crying, “Mom? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You shook your head, unable to speak. Jamie wordlessly wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you as you struggled to regain your voice. When you could finally breathe and relay the news you just received, you choked out, “Aunt Emily died last night.”

Then Jamie started crying too. He curled up into your shoulder and sobbed into your shirt, soaking you to the skin, almost like he was little again. You crumbled at the sound of his whines and cries. Every part of your chest ached with the weight of your grief.

“What happened to her?” He finally whimpered.

“She has a dangerous job,” You didn’t even notice the tense you used, “A bad man was after her.”

“Well, is everyone else okay? What about Uncle Derek? What about Doc—”

“Everyone else is fine, baby, no one else was hurt. Doc’s fine.”

You sat still for God knows how long, silent, clutching each other like a lifeline, praying this was all just a dream and that you’d get a call from Emily telling you it was all some sick joke. Of course, you’d be furious with JJ, but at least there wouldn’t be a hole in your family where Emily had once been.

Your mother came over to help you cook, the same role you had taken years prior while your father was sick. She consoled you and Jamie for the next two days and then drove you to the funeral. You got out of the car and walked in silence to the church, clutching Jamie’s hand as you entered.

Aaron was the first at the door. He wasn’t one for hugs, but when he saw you, exhausted and barely standing, he pulled you and Jamie in tight. The hug was brief, but it helped, God, did it help. Dave was just behind him, and he didn’t hesitate. He ruffled Jamie’s hair and gave you a kiss on both cheeks. JJ was holding Henry in the corner, and Will gave you a weak smile. Derek and Penelope were holding one another, both shaking as they cried. Your grip on Jamie’s hand grew tighter, tighter, tighter until you saw him.

You then dropped Jamie’s hand as you ran over, arms open wide as your son followed close behind, “Spence--”

He returned your hug instantly, burying his face in your hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t call--”

You felt Jamie join the hug, but you kept your head buried in Spencer’s chest, “No, I’m sorry too, I didn’t know what to do.”

“Me neither.” He pulled away, wiping away some tears and sniffling, “I’ve just been holed up in my room reading Vonnegut all for the past three days.”

Of course, “What books?”

“Mostly Slaughterhouse-Five, it was her--”

“Her favorite,” You nodded as you spoke the last part in unison with him.

“Yeah. I read it out loud just…” His voice cracked and the words looked painful to get out, “Just in case she could hear me.”

Your heart broke imagining him wrapped in blankets, eyes rimmed red as they glazed over the worn-out pages. You ached at the thought of his voice cracking just as it did before as he read for hours and hours, begging the universe to let Emily hear him, “She did. And she loved it.”

“I just hope she didn’t realize I was crying,” he muttered, and it shattered you, “She wouldn’t want us to cry for her.”

“You’re right, but I know she’d be unbelievably offended if we didn’t cry just a little bit,” Spencer’s tearful smile was enough to make you feel slightly better. There was still hope.

Your mom took Jamie home after the wake, knowing that you needed time with the team to feel like a person again. You went home with Spencer. He shouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

“You’re really good at taking care of me,” he smiled weakly, sipping the tea you made for him.

“Yeah, I had a good teacher.” Your mother was always there when you lost someone. You had your ups and downs, but she was a good mom.

“Does it get easier? Losing someone?”

“No. It always hurts just as bad,” you sigh, “But moving on used to be a lot harder.”

“Do you still miss him?”

“Of course I do, but less than I used to.” You still talked to your dad sometimes, something you did as a kid when he wasn’t home, just telling him about your day or narrating what you were doing. Even after all these years, you still found yourself explaining to no one that you had to run to store and buy bread to make Jamie’s lunch.

“I see little pieces of him everywhere I go. Jamie has the same exact smile. His favorite book when he was little was the same one my dad read to me. No one ever really leaves. Family, friends, they stick with us.”

“I’ve never lost a friend before. When Gideon left, I knew he was out there. Same with Elle. I could have Garcia find them right now and call them up to see how they’re doing, but Emily--” his voice cracked too much for him to want to continue, so he dropped it altogether.

“Did I ever tell you about my college roommate, Juliet?”

“No.”

“We were best friends. We did everything together: Movie nights, parties, all that. The night of our last final senior year, we decided to go clubbing to celebrate.”

You told him the whole story. The drinking, the dancing, the guy. You don’t remember his name, but you remember trusting him. He was sweet and Juliet liked him, so when she came to you at the bar after dancing with him telling you she was going home with him, you let her.

“I was happy for her! She had just gone through a breakup a few months before, so it was nice to see her getting some,” you let out a weak laugh, “I remember the last thing I said before she left was ‘Okay, have fun, call me in the morning, we’ll get brunch. I love you.’” Spencer winced, almost as if he knew where this story was going. Given his line of work, he was expecting far worse, but he at least knew that we didn’t get lunch the next morning.

“I went home a little bit later, I got bored, so I got a taxi home.”

You close your eyes and sigh deeply, “I’m in the back seat when I get a call. It was Juliet’s phone.”

“She wasn’t calling you, was she?”

“No, it was the police. Juliet didn’t have a good relationship with her parents, so I was her emergency contact.” You had to plan the funeral, invite her parents, look them in the eye and lie to them that Juliet wanted to make amends with them. The horrified guilt on their faces almost made it worth it, “The car she was in got t-boned when the guy ran a red light. He wasn’t as sober as we thought he was.”

“She didn’t make it.” Spencer guessed for you.

“No. She was dead before they got her out of the ambulance.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If Juliet hadn’t…” You still couldn’t bring yourself to actually say it, “I wouldn’t have moved home, I wouldn’t have gotten back with Kyle, and I wouldn’t have Jamie. I don’t wanna tell you that something good will come out of this, because that’s a horrible thing to hear, but looking for an opportunity to find something good can’t hurt.”

“I can’t just look for something new when all i can think about is how I should have been able to help!”

“You really think I didn’t blame myself for what happened to Juliet? That every night for years after I thought I could have done something differently, and sure, I could have, but it’s not like I knew what was going to happen, and I couldn’t keep blaming myself.”

“It’s not the same, you don’t get it.” His fingers ghosted over old scars on his forearms, scars you didn’t want to think about where they came from.

“I do, Spencer. Emily was my friend too. And because she was my friend, I know she would never let you blame yourself for it. She knows you can’t save them all. All we can do is save ourselves,” you took his hand in yours, he still tensed up, “‘cuz that’s all the people we lose want us to do.”

He turned his head up from the floor and met your eyes. Once you gazed into those deep hazel irises, the tension in his hand melted away. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a deep breath, squeezing your hand like a lifeline, “Thank you.”

“Of course, Spence.”

“I’m sorry for snapping.”

“You apologize too much.” You had nearly forgotten exactly what he said to you that night in the hotel bar in Vegas all those years ago, but clearly, he hadn’t, he couldn’t, and he didn’t, because after a few moments of staring into your eyes and slowly drifting towards you in peaceful silence, he closed the gap between you both and kissed you.

Spencer Reid was kissing you.

This was happening.

Nearly two decades of being friends--

Years of being totally, ridiculously, and most importantly, cluelessly in love with each other, Spencer Reid was kissing you. You were almost so overjoyed at that moment as you started to kiss him back that you nearly forgot that your friend was dead and you were supposed to be comforting him. This wasn’t comfort, this was what Kyle did to you all those years ago.

You broke the kiss before he did something he’d regret, “Spence…”

“Oh my god,” he removed his hands from your face and shifted his entire body away from you, “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t-”

“Oh my god, I’m an idiot!” He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands as his hands landed at the back of his neck, forcing his head to stare in his lap.

“No you’re not! Hey. Genius. Look at me.” He didn’t. “You’re not. You’re just in a bad place, I get it.”

“No you don’t. This time, you don’t.”

“What do you m—”

“Look, I don’t wanna kick you out but I really think you should leave.”

“Oh… yeah… sure… okay.” You slowly rose from the couch on weak knees. Whether it was from adrenaline or anxiety, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be! Just… please, take care of yourself?” You glance around the room for your belongings, “Shower, eat something, get some rest, please. And call me if you need anything--”

“Y/N, please, just go.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as you reached for the doorknob. You turned your head just enough to look over your shoulder to say, “Goodnight, pretty boy,” before you left. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

(Spencer’s POV)

Why was I kicking her out?

Why was I telling her to leave?

Why was I pushing her away?

Why did I kiss her?

Why did she push me away?

Why did she call me “pretty boy?” She never--

The pieces fell into place as they often do, all at once with the force of a car slamming into a pole at fifty miles per hour.

“Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, Princess.”

She remembered that night.

She remembered that night when I drove her home and put her to bed and--

And I told her I had a crush on her in high school.

And I almost said I loved her.

And I almost kissed her then.

God, I wish I had. Any time would have been better than now.

(Reader POV)

You didn’t know you could miss someone so much while they were behind just one door. You could’ve turned around right then and knocked and waited for him to be ready to talk about what just happened. About him kissing you. About you kissing back. About you stopping him. About that drunken night when you let it slip how pretty you thought he was.

You should’ve just waited.

But you couldn’t stand to be that close to him while he wanted to be as far away from you as possible.

So you ran.

You practically sprinted down the stairs and out of his building as quickly as you could, getting in your car and pulling out of the parking lot and getting the fuck away before you hurt anyone else, including yourself.

(Spencer POV)

I couldn’t just let her walk out like that.

I had to say something.

I had to go after her.

I had to get her back.

I needed her.

But when I opened the door, it was like she had never been there.

I leaned on my door frame staring at the staircase down the hall, wishing I had the energy to run after her, to catch her before she reached her car, to stop her from driving away, to tell her I was sorry, to beg her to please, please, come back upstairs and talk to me, but my feet were fixed to the floor and my legs were weak. I just closed my door with my back and slid down to the floor, unable to bring myself to cry anymore. I sat there for god knows how long until I found the energy to crawl over to the coffee table where I had left my phone, picked it up, and dialed a number.

(Reader POV)

You jumped slightly at the sound of your phone ringing, you shuffled through your bag in the passenger seat, desperately trying to find it before the light turned green. Some foolish part of your mind told you it was Spencer, you wished it was Spencer, you wanted nothing more than to turn your car around and talk it all out with him, tell him you were sorry, that you loved him, that you needed him, but your heart sank when you looked at the screen and saw the number.

It was a just fucking spam call.

You threw your phone back in your seat and beat your fists against the steering wheel, groaning and wishing the fucking light would just turn green already. When it finally did, you slammed on the gas a bit too quickly, sending the car jolting forward. You barely stopped the entire rest of the ride home, the universe must have sensed your impatience. As you finally pulled into your driveway, your skull felt as though it was packed with cotton, your tear tracks drying on your cheeks.

You raced up the steps to your door, fussing with the keys and trying to unlock the door as quickly and quietly as possible. You inevitably made noise as you entered, prompting a light to turn on in the living room. Your mom rose from the couch she had been sleeping on, her face dropping from annoyed to concerned.

“Toots, you’re home already? I thought you wouldn’t be back until morning.”

You had thought that you were fresh out of tears, but apparently, you still had more to spare, seeing as you broke the second the words left her mouth.

“Oh my, what happened?” She raced towards you, wrapping you in a hug, “Is Spencer okay? Did something happen?”

As confused and sad as you were, you couldn’t stop the smile that had suddenly appeared on your face, “He kissed me.”

“He what?” She broke the hug, holding your face in her hands and wiping tears off of your cheeks, “Then honey, why on Earth are you here?”

(Spencer POV)

“You kicked her out? Why?”

“Why do you think I called you, Jennifer? What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“Well, what exactly happened?”

“I freaked out, she came over, we talked, I,” I took a deep breath and braced myself for her reaction, “I kissed her—”

She almost choked on her coffee, “And you didn’t lead with that? Don’t you think that’s a little important?”

“I was trying to avoid reliving it for as long as possible.”

“You’ve wanted this since high school, why wouldn’t you want to relive it?”

“She pulled away.” There was no anger or sadness behind my words. I don’t sound hurt as I recount the scene, “She took my hand, I kissed her, she stopped me.”

JJ’s hand brushed over my shoulder and I flinched away slightly.

“I apologized immediately, she wasn't mad or anything, I just…” I trailed off, unable to admit that I just couldn’t look at her anymore. I never thought I’d get tired of seeing her face, but I had needed her to leave. When she pulled away, all I could think about was the sound of Alexa Lisbon sneering at me as Kyle and his goons tied me to that goal post.

“She wanted to help me, and I know she did, but…”

“She couldn’t.” JJ finished my sentence.

I shook my head, “Not this time.”

“But now you want her to come back?”

“And I don’t know how to tell her that because I fucked up.”

“What did she say after you told her to leave? Did she just go?”

(Reader POV)

“I told him not to feel bad and to take care of himself.” You hadn’t had time to tell him how much you wanted to kiss him but neither one of you was in the right state of mind for that.

“Right, yeah, and did he say anything else?”

You winced at the memory of how his voice sounded. “He kept telling me to leave, so I just went for the door and said--”

(Spencer POV)

“‘Goodnight, pretty boy,’” I grumbled, “That was the last thing she said.”

“Okay?”

“She never calls me Pretty Boy.” I told her the whole story. When I was done, her eyebrows were drawn together and lips were pressed together in a thin, worried line uttering, “Spence…”

“What?”

She sighed, saying nothing and smirking slightly to herself, but saying nothing.

“Jennifer.”

“She loves you, genius.”

“Then why’d she leave?”

“Because you told her to. And…” she hesitated, almost scared to say anything else. I was scared to hear it. JJ took my coffee away and dumped it down the sink, a silent indicator that I had enough and needed to go to bed.

She turned back to me and leaned over the table again, making sure I'd look her in the eyes, “She’d do anything for you.”

I just stared down on my hands on the table, unable to say another word, unable to defend myself, unable to fight anymore.

Because I knew she was right.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @purelyprentiss @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies @dazzlingnights @uhuhuh @booksarekindaneat @crimeshowtrash @carlgrxmes @collectiveuniverses @annesauriol

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #CM #cm fan fiction #cm imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg #mgg angst #spencer reid angst

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draqcnheartstrinq · 3 years

Text

Hate That I Want You (Part 6)

Sirius Black x Pure-blood!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: At first it’s hate, then it’s confusion. It grows into a healthy amount of curiosity until it turns into hate once more. But not towards each other, more towards the idea of wanting what you’ve tried to avoid all your life.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, emotions, anger.

Note: It's been a long wait but suddenly got a lot of inspiration and got back into my Hogwarts feels! I miss this magical world so badly.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

HTIWY Masterpost

You weren’t used to visiting the Headmaster’s Office and yet that’s exactly where you were called to as soon as you entered Hogwarts Grounds. You imagined Dumbledore wanted to talk to you about your leave, how you will continue classes now you’re back and maybe about how you experienced the funeral.

Maybe Professor Dumbledore would be the kind listening ear you so desperately needed, no one else had ever bothered being that person for you… Except for Grandma.

But you knew that was wishful thinking, besides it would probably be highly unprofessional for a headmaster to get involved in pupils’ private business.

Seeing the big gargoyle statue, that was supposed to be the entrance to his office, extremely intimidated you and as no one was there to guide you inside you waited whilst taking deep breaths. Five minutes must have gone by before you heard stone moving against stone and the spinning of the gargoyle caught your attention. A staircase appeared from the ground up.

Knowing no better you placed yourself on one of the moving steps and let yourself be carried upwards.

“I see you made it back to school, Miss (Y/L/N)”, you heard an old deep voice say as soon as you reached the top, the stairs underneath you locked into place. The big wooden door was already opened and through it you could see a beautifully decorated desk, Dumbledore partially leaning against it.

You walked inside, looking around like a tourist in London and finally answered after taking in the grandeur of the interior. “Yes I did, Professor. I hope nothing important took place whilst I was gone?”

The old man smirked at you, looking over his glasses as if your question sounded funny to him. Nonetheless, he seemed friendly about it all.

“No, nothing too important and certainly not as eventful as before you left.”

That statement made you look up, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. You could’ve been mistaken for a deer in headlights.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I don’t think I understand…”

“Miss (Y/L/N), I know about everything that goes on in this school’s hallways and I know about everyone that resides here. You’re not going to tell me you thought I was going to do nothing about what happened between you and Mr. Black.”

Your mouth now fell open and your eyes widened until you almost believed they would fall out of your skull. Great, The Headmaster knew about the howler and probably every word that your mother had written inside of it. Everyone would be stamping you as a follower of The Dark Lord, a Mudblood killer, a believer of purity. Now even your headmaster knew about the dark family you were born in.

He probably knew about them for a long time but now? There was no doubting he would judge you too…

“Miss, how did the funeral affect you? Was your grandmother very dear to you?”

This question threw you even more, surely he wouldn’t actually be asking you if you were okay. The confusion must’ve been evident on your features as Dumbledore started smiling again.

“I loved my grandmother, more than I loved anyone else probably.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss then. I hope you can find some comfort between these walls.”

More than I could ever get at home, you thought.

The funeral was very small, your parents and other relatives didn’t want to catch a lot of attention from outsiders and most probably didn’t want to pay for someone as ‘not important’ as your grandma. You were the only one to buy a bouquet of white and yellow flowers for her, the ones she always said she loved so much.

The look on your face must have screamed all the things you were feeling for the headmaster took it upon himself to talk some confidence into you. It was nothing but unexpected, the way he seemed to care for one of his students, let alone you.

“Miss (Y/L/N), I doubt anyone in Hogwarts is left to wonder what your intentions are. The most wonderful and strong souls hold the most painful secrets after all.”

It’s those words, spoken by a man you barely knew, that have brought you the most comfort in the past five days. He said it softly but with determination, it made you believe what he said, no matter the words he spoke. It made you wonder.

A silence fell over the room. Whilst you were fighting through thoughts in your head, thinking about yourself, your grandmother, what was to come your way here at Hogwarts, Dumbledore walked to the other side of his desk and sat himself down on his big almost golden chair. It could resemble a throne if you didn’t know any better.

The man intertwined his hands and sat there for a little while, looking at you over his glasses like a grandfather would at his grandchild.

“You must be a little lost right now but don’t worry, everything will fall back onto its feet. In the meantime I’m sure young Mr. Black will do everything in his power to make things right.”

“I’m sorry headmaster, but I highly doubt that”, you answered, genuinely convinced Sirius couldn’t care any less about what happened to you.

“I guess you will have to take my word for it then.” And once again Dumbledore spoke with such confidence in his words that you couldn’t help but doubt your own opinions. Maybe all the rumors were true, maybe this man in front of you really had a third eye seeing everything all at once. Even in the magical world you lived in this was something to be admired.

“Please close the door on your way out, Miss (Y/LN), and give my regards to your dormmates. Also say hello to Sirius downstairs.”

Your eyes went wide because just like that the conversation was over. A little overwhelmed and at the same time underwhelmed you made your way back down the winding staircase. Out of all the things the headmaster could’ve said, he stayed vague, didn’t say a word about the classes you missed and what in the bloody Merlin’s beard did he mean by Say hello to Sirius downstairs.

You couldn’t even finish that last thought before you saw two exhausted grey eyes looking back at you. Two lips parted, panting away as if the guy had run his lungs out of his chest. After a few seconds the rustling of paper caught your attention as you looked down towards his hands. They held a bundle of parchment, tightly almost like a lifeline.

When you looked back up at his face Sirius started talking, no, more like rambling. With every word your anger grew.

“I talked to your friends, well, the girls talked to your friends and I stood there listening, but they said you would need detailed summaries of the lessons you missed this week and I thought maybe some more from me would help. Maybe your roommates missed out on some stuff so I wanted to make sure to give my notes on top of theirs because maybe you would need them… And I know it’s not much, but I- I really hope you’ll take them because I don’t want you to lack behind because of this situation you’re in and… I’m sorr-”

“Save it, Black.”

Your hard and unforgiving tone made him look up from the ground he was rambling towards. He finally met your eyes and saw the anger you held in them. He didn’t blame you, he understood, he was prepared for it because of the thousands of times he played this moment in his head the last few days.

He was prepared for the frown he saw, he had imagined it to be so much worse than it was. But he wasn’t prepared for the other emotions he also read on your features.

Sorrow, grief, fatigue, exhaustion, loneliness,...

The list could go on but none of the emotions were anything positive.

He could probably write an essay about all the things he saw by just looking at your face. Sirius wondered how long you had been dragging these feelings along without ever giving them a voice, without ever breaking your front. The first time he saw you break was in The Great Hall after receiving your howler but your act was quickly regained, the second time was in the hallway when you looked at him like he broke your entire world, after the news of your grandma had been revealed to the whole school. And now a third time.

It took him more than six years to see what others had long before him. It took him six years to see an ounce of humanity in you. Now that he did see, he saw more than he could bear. More than anyone should have to carry.

“Please, I- I just want you to take my notes. It’ll help you, it’ll give me a peace of mind.”

“And where is my peace of mind?” you questioned him, less angry and more disappointed this time. Another emotion Sirius didn’t like to see.

Your voice quivered just enough to reveal a whole new load of feelings. Your eyes searched his for something he couldn’t decipher, they looked pleadingly before closing and your chest rising with a deep shaking breath.

When they opened again your whole demeanor was as unreadable as all those years before. Not a single sign of any emotion left. You looked just… indifferent like always.

Sirius didn’t know which of these states of yours he disliked the most. The one where you let go of everything, showing all the things you feel in one single look at your eyes or the one where you show absolutely nothing at all.

“I don’t want your notes, give them to one of your latest conquests.”

With those words you took off towards the dungeons, steady pace, the sound of your shoes echoing.

The guy you left standing there nothing more than a boy watching his hopes walk away from him, papers still crumbling in his grip, regrets still twirling in his mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A long while later Sirius finally entered the Gryffindor Common Room again. He sat himself on one of the couches away from the hearth, throwing the papers onto a nearby table to rest his head in his hands.

He had expected this to go so different from the way it actually went. He had hoped for an acceptance of the notes he took, maybe a loud argument or a back and forth of shouted words. That way he would’ve at least known you had your energy back, he would’ve seen that burning fire like every time you would normally cross him in the halls.

Instead he got the ashes of a fire that lost its last substance to burn. A wood that had been exhausted, burned to the ground, wet with rain from a storm. Nothing left to give.

“I take it she didn’t want the summary”, Remus came to sit next to him on the red cushions. A quiet chatter finally reached Sirius’ ears as he realised they weren’t the only ones still awake. He looked around him, before turning his attention on Remus and his face back to the floor with his elbows on his thighs, supporting himself.

“No, and honestly I don’t blame her.” It came out as a whisper, not enough energy left in the boy’s body to speak any louder. “I’m mentally exhausted and that doesn’t even begin to describe how she is feeling, Remus, she looked so… so… I don’t even know if there are words to say how she looked.”

“You’ve finally seen what we’ve seen for a few months now, some of us years.”

“I think even a blind person would’ve seen it before I did.”

“Most probably”, Remus chuckled and threw his arms over the back of the couch. “She’ll come around, she’ll forgive you if you keep it obvious how sorry you are.”

“Will she?” Sirius let that question linger between them for a little, he let it sink in. “Because I sure wouldn’t forgive me.”

It was Remus’ turn to sigh. He too had his doubts but wanted to keep his friends’ hopes high.

“No, You’re right, I wouldn’t forgive you either.”

They looked at each other, Sirius slumping his shoulders. Remus then watches the stars outside of the window and the deep blue sky visible from the inside of the common room.

“Let’s hope she’s a better person than we are.”

HTIWY Masterpost

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