#lmao this was supposed to just be Scott coming out and got a little bit out of hand

[agentwashingcat]

Scars

I have no idea where this Andromeda fic came from but here it is. Featuring Jaal and Scott Ryder it’s mostly fluff with some sap cause Scott is a hopeless romantic lmao

Cross posted on ao3!

“Jaal, are you staring at my tits?”

Scott, in the midst of towel drying his hair, had found Jaal watching him from the doorway of the crew quarters. And considering Scott was currently only wearing pants, it was a logical assumption that Jaal was staring at his tits.

Obviously.

Jaal chuckled, shaking his head. “Can I not admire my partner’s body?”

Scott felt his cheeks flush, but kept it together. “I’m sure we can think of more inventive things for you to do.”

Nailed it.

“Hmm, I’m sure we can.” Jaal’s eyes swept over him once more, landing on his chest. “I had a question, if that is alright?”

Scott blinked, not expecting the abrupt change in topic. “Sure, Jaal, what’s on your mind?”

“You have markings on your chest where Liam does not. Is that typical?”

Scott looked down at his chest and then looked back up. “Wait, have you seen Liam naked?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Jaal waved a hand like it was nothing. “We were learning about each other’s species by asking weird questions we could not ask others.”

“And you had to be naked for that?”

“You’re avoiding my question.” Jaal titled his head. “Was it offensive? I apologize if that is the case.”

“No! Well, I mean, maybe, depending on the person. People don’t always like to talk about their scars.”

“Oh! I did not realize they were scars. They are very well healed.”

“Thank you I worked really hard at that.” Scott was only half kidding. Scar care was important and he had been very diligent about it to minimize the scarring after surgery. “I honestly don’t know how to word this so I’m just gonna go for it. Do y’all have transgender people?”

Jaal frowned. “Trans gender? That word did not translate.”

Off to a great start. “People who are born one gender but realize they’re a different gender.”

Jaal brightened. “Oh, yes, we have many, many genders. Children are encouraged to explore and find an identity that is correct for them.”

Alright, that was promising. “I’m not sure how much it matters for Angara, but humans who are a different gender will sometimes change things about their body so that they feel more comfortable in it. So that’s why the scars.” Scott paused. “Lexi also gives me a hormone shot once a week, so you’re not allowed to strand me anywhere.”

“I would never strand you, dearest one,” Jaal said, laughing. He moved towards Scott, pulling him in by the waist and resting their foreheads together. “I appreciate your candor with me.”

Scott felt the tension slip out of his shoulders. “I try. Humans aren’t always… accepting of people who are different from them. Makes it hard to know who’s safe to come out to.”

Jaal furrowed his brow. “But our differences should be acknowledged and celebrated!”

“You’re preaching to the choir, man.” 

Jaal’s brow only furrowed deeper. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, uh-” Idioms not translating properly was a real pain in the ass. “Just that I understand what you mean, I suppose.”

“Ah, I see.” Jaal kissed him gently, bringing a hand up to cradle Scott’s face. Scott leaned into him, eyes sliding closed as he melted against Jaal. They hadn’t known each other for long, but if anyone asked, he would have said Jaal was the other half of his soul. Which was crazy, since they had come all the way from the Milky Way, but it felt true. Despite everything, they fit together in a way Scott had never felt before.

When they broke apart, Scott gave Jaal a dopey smile. “I love you.” He felt the blood drain from his face. Oh god, that was supposed to stay in his head. “I, uh, fuck, was that, I didn’t mean to say that.”

A large smile broke out over Jaal’s face, his eyes sparkling brightly. “I love you as well, dearest one.”

The blood rushed back to his face instantly, and he was sure his cheeks were burning red. Jaal’s openness was still something he was getting used to. “Good. Great! Uh, oh no, I’m failing, I’m doing so bad right now.”

Jaal looked concerned, cupping Scott’s face with both hands. “You are perfect, dear one. Never forget that.”

Scott didn’t think his face could get any redder. “Right, right, okay, sure.” This was, actually, he wasn’t sure if this was going well or not. He could barely think straight at the best of times, nevermind when Jaal was telling him he loved him and he was perfect. It was like something out of one of his fantasies.

“Scott, are you alright?” Jaal asked.

“I’m spiraling a little, not gonna lie.”

“Spiraling?”

“Overthinking, I think.” If that wasn’t proof that he was overthinking he didn’t know what was. “I’m not… used to this, yet.”

Jaal blinked. “To what?”

Scott almost laughed at Jaal’s confusion. It must seem so simple to him. “The overabundance of affection, I suppose.” Scott knew that part of it was his own fault. He kept people at arm's length. Him and Sara were affectionate of course, but sibling affection was a lot different than this. This was exhilarating and intoxicating.

“You deserve all the affection in this galaxy and yours, my heart.” Jaal was looking at him so sincerely, with such bright eyes that it made his head spin.

“God I really do love you,” Scott managed to get out after a moment.

Jaal chuckled, kissing him again. “And I you.” After a moment he spoke again. “Next time we are on Aya, there is a place I want to show you.”

“Oh? What place?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Scott pouted, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. “But I wanna know.”

“Do not, what did you call it, use your dog eyes on me,” Jaal admonished, laughing. “It’s a surprise.”

Scott stuck his tongue out at him. “Fine. Be that way.”

“You’ll know soon enough, dearest one, I promise.”

“I will because I’m gonna tell Sara to set a course for Aya asap.” No one ever accused Scott of having patience.

“A S A P?”

Scott grinned. “As soon as possible.”

Jaal rolled his eyes. “You are a menace.” 

“But I’m your menace.”

Jaal’s face softened as he looked at him. “That you are.”

#mass effect andromeda #Mass Effect #jaal ama darav #Scott Ryder #Jaal x Scott #Jaal x Ryder #trans Scott Ryder #my mass effect fic #lmao this was supposed to just be Scott coming out and got a little bit out of hand #writing be like that

[petersnya]

Isn’t she lovely | peter p

I heard this song in the car with my grandma and it’s safe to say that this is now my new favorite song. Also I wanted to write something small so that I could get back into writing rq for u lovely ppl ;)

Paring; (mcu) peter parker x fem!reader | Warning; fluff and legit one swear word lmao

Srry this is short but I promise it’s worth it hahah

“Isn’t she just… ” I don’t even know the word to describe her.

“Uh- dude, you’re staring mighty hard,” Mj said to Peter without her eyes leaving the book she had in her hands as she turned the page.

Peter had been eyeing you from the moment he stepped into Avengers Compound cafe and spotted you handing Mrs. Potts a stack of papers. You had been doing little errands for Pepper here and there just for something to do for the summer. Potts and your mom were long time friends, so when you asked if you could do little things for her with the time in your hands, she didn’t have a problem.

“Right, uh- quick! Give me something to do o-or read or something. She’s walking this way!” Peter rushed out his words to his friends next to him. “Act cool!”

“Mhm- yep, not a problem.. for me at least.”

Peter fumbled with a book Mj carelessly gave him for the moment. Ned whipped his head around him, trying to find something to make him ‘look cool’. He quickly propped his head up with his hand and adjusted his posture to look more cool… whatever that was supposed to look like.

You walked towards the table, your eyes aimlessly wondering the place while you walked with no destination set in mind. Maybe you’d go by Peps office for a bit? Or go see one of the guys you’d met here at his job at Baskin Robbins.. what’s was his name?… Scott Lan—

“Hey! Wanna come sit?” Your eyes landed on a girl with wildly, untamed curls calling you over with a slight smile. And two guys who looked- interesting.

But you couldn’t help but stare at the one with chocolate curls and eyes to match you looked panicked.

Wow. He’s just so… breathtaking.

“Mj… what the fuck are you doing?” Peter seethed thought his clenched teeth- a red tent creeping up his neck and making its way to his face while his knuckles turned white from gripping the book in hand.

“Yea Mj- what are you doing?” Ned tried to back up his best friend as smoothly as possible. It wasn’t smooth. At all.

Mj just scoffed as she waved you over- putting her sticky note in her book and setting it aside. You sat right in front of Peter when you made it to the table glancing at him nervously.

“Hi uh- I’m y/n,” you averted your gaze back over to girl sat next to Peter.

“Well hello there y/n. I’m Mj—“ Peter and Ned tried to suddenly make there way away from the table but failed miserably.

“And this,” Mj said firmly, “is the two idiots I hang out with - Peter and Ned.”

“How do you do y/n,” Ned announced proudly as he settled back in his sit. Peter fumbled with his fingers as he tried to avoid eye contact with you. You saw him jerk slightly as Mj cleared her throat, indicating him to speak.

He finally looked you in the eye. His brown eyes grew wide with astonishment at that exact moment. The breathe he began to let out got caught in his throat, his heart beating faster and harder - he was sure you could see it from outside his chest. A small smile made its way onto his face as he stuck his hand out gingerly.

“Yea I- I’m Peter.”

“Hi Peter.” You stuck your hand out and shook it slowly. You had never been looked at like this before. And you had never looked at anyone the way you were looking at him now.

Peter let go of your hand and closed his fist to feel the warmth that your hand left behind. He had so many words he wanted to say, but couldn’t. He never wanted his eyes to leave yours. And in that moment, he finally found the word he was looking for.

Lovely. Isn’t she lovely.

#fanfiction #fanfic #marvel mcu #peter parker angst #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #mcu fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #tom holland fluff #fluff #long reads #angst #smut #spider man #marvel #peter parker x y/n #mcu peter parker

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

breathe be still

(robert aeor high au p8)

masterpost

part 8?!?!?! omg?!?!? ahhh sorry it's been awhile- i got stuck on part 9 and generally wait to post the next chapter until the one after it is done lmao- but uh yea enjoy!!! ALSO ALSO the return of jimmy pov >:D

“How is he kicking you out of the house and throwing a vase at your head- I’m sorry, how is that your fault? And I’m assuming you’re talking about your dad?” Jimmy’s appalled; what a horrific way to treat your child.

or, Scott's gone to Jimmy's and this is what happens next :0

TW: head injury, concussion, disowning, mentions of abuse and neglect, delirium, blood, etc.

(4906 words)

Jimmy has no idea what to do. He’s brought Scott upstairs to his bedroom and bundled him in blankets- he’s got a nasty cut on his face and he’s covered in ice for some reason, as well as a growing goose egg on his forehead. He’s calmed down a little bit since he came inside, just Jimmy’s presence seeming to ease him into himself a little. 

And now Jimmy’s downstairs with the kettle on to boil, frantically googling “what do you do when the boy you like comes to your house at 9:45 at night looking like he’s been beat up sobbing and covered in ice” and for some reason there are just no results, the internet failing him right when he needs it- hasn’t anyone else ever been in this situation before?

He supposes probably not, and all he can do right now is thank the gods or whatever’s up there that Beks’ parents aren’t home right now, and Bek herself can be persuaded to keep a secret. Jimmy leans against the countertop, picking at his feathers. What on earth is he supposed to do with this? Scott looks horrific, he has a terrible cut on his cheek and Jimmy tried to clean it up for him, but it’s almost like he’s delirious- he’s not making complete sense, his words quiet and childish, and Jimmy’s scared, scared for Scott and for whatever happened to him.

The steady whistle of the kettle crescendos to a keening scream, and he quickly lifts it off the burner, pouring the boiling water into two mugs. He plops in an orange spice tea bag for himself, and a mint one for Scott, because the gorgon loves everything mint-flavored, whether it’s synthetic or natural. Jimmy cracks open his freezer and puts two ice cubes into each cup, watching them slowly melt away into the water, the steam slowly decreasing until there’s none, just the cups of liquid sitting silently on the countertop.

Jimmy sighs and picks them up, ascending the stairs and haphazardly opening the door to his room, both cups clutched in one hand. Scott’s huddled on Jimmy’s bed, the comforter pulled around him like he’s a cat, his face the only part visible. His head pokes up when the door creaks open, fear creasing across his features, eyes wide and mouth half-open in an unspoken yell until he realizes it’s Jimmy.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Scott visibly relaxes, his snakes shaking the now-melted ice off themselves.

“Just me,” Jimmy agrees, walking forward to sit next to Scott on the bed. “I have tea for you, it’s mint.”

“Mint’s my favorite,” Scott mutters, reaching out for the teacup. Jimmy plops it into his hands, and Scott breathes in the smell for a couple of seconds, eyes closed, before taking in a  big drought, both hands still wrapped around the ceramic surface as he drinks.

“I know it is, that’s why I chose it,” Jimmy explains, taking a small sip himself. “So, uh…why are you here?”

Scott shivers. “I did a bad thing.”

“...What do you mean?” Jimmy asks, concern probably showing plainly on his face.

“I mean I yelled at him. And he said ‘no, you’re no son of mine,’ and then he threw a vase at me and said, ‘get out!’. So I got out. And this is the place I came to.” 

“How is he kicking you out of the house and throwing a vase at your head- I’m sorry, how is that your fault? And I’m assuming you’re talking about your dad?” Jimmy’s appalled; what a horrific way to treat your child. Sure, Patty would get mad sometimes, but she never was genuinely abusive- or he doesn’t think she was. Jimmy supposes he wouldn’t really know. But the gorgon’s voice is shaking, and Jimmy can tell he’s not entirely in his right mind; if he had to guess, he’d say that Scott probably has a decent-sized concussion.

“B-because I’m the one who made him angry,” Scott says, staring into his mug, covered in water. “He got mad that I had a phone and he got mad that I was talking to you because you wear dresses, and I said, ‘that’s what makes him comfortable, shouldn’t you wear what makes you comfortable?’ and Father said no, and he said you were gay and that was bad, but what he didn’t know is that I’m the one who’s gay and I told him I was and he- he said to get out. 

“So I got out but not fast enough and he threw a vase at my head, and now I’m a-alone, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go-” Scott’s shaking even harder now, his eyes clouding up with fear. Jimmy feels so bad for him, it must be terrible to be kicked out of your home by someone you’ve known your whole life- at least Jimmy had chosen to leave, at least he hadn’t been evicted. Also- he feels terrible for thinking about this in this moment, but Scott’s gay?! That’s a bit of a revalation- and one that works in Jimmy’s favor.

“Shh, hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now, I’m here,” he says, putting down his almost untouched cup of tea and scooching closer to Scott, wrapping his arm around the shivering mass of blankets. “It’s not your fault. I don’t think any of this is your fault- I think your dad is a bad person who feels bad about himself, so he takes it out on you and other people too. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you come to me, exactly? Doesn’t Owen live a lot closer, like on the same street kind of closer?”

“I don’t mind,” Scott breathes in, obviously trying to calm himself. “Owen has, like, fifteen sisters, and he is my best friend, but I just think I felt like it would be safer to go to you. I dunno. And I couldn’t go to Shelby’s because her house is too small, also it’s miles away, even further than yours. Plus it’s Gnome New Year and I don’t want to intrude on that, it’s like her favorite thing.”

“And Joel?” Jimmy prompts, trying to keep Scott talking so he can gauge the level of damage, particularly the cut on Scott’s cheek and the bruise that’s slowly spreading all over his forehead.

“Joel’s parents h-hate me. They always have, and her sister thinks I’m a terrible person. I don’t like her. She reminds me of Father.”

“Okay, I guess that makes sense.” Jimmy reaches a hand towards Scott’s head, and the gorgon scoots away. “Oh, sorry- I should’ve asked, do you mind if I take a look at your head? We might need to use an ice pack.”

Scott relaxes. “Sure, I can make one.”

“What do you mean, ‘make one’?” Now Jimmy’s confused, furrowing his brow in a way that apparently looks quite funny, because Scott laughs, the tiniest grin Jimmy’s ever seen ghosting across his face for a split second.

“I probably should’ve told you this sooner- can I have like a wet washcloth?”

“Sure,” Jimmy says, standing up and walking to the bathroom, grabbing the cloth from the hanger and running it momentarily through the water that seeps from the faucet before returning to Scott. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, grabbing the sopping cloth and lifting his shades.

Jimmy only has a moment to realize how gorgeous Scott is when you can see his whole face, how much his eyes shine in the dark room, the bright cyan almost glowing against his skin- his snake-like slit pupils that are for whatever reason just extremely attractive. And then something flashes within them and suddenly, the washcloth is frozen stiff, ice coating the wet fabric.

“What the-” Jimmy’s own, unspecial, eyes widen, because since when can Scott freeze things with his eyes? Since when is this a thing that someone who isn’t an ice celestial might possibly be able to do- and even they freeze things with their touch, not their vision, as Jimmy’s learnt from Aimee, another of Beks’ friends.

“That’s why I have to wear my shades even though I can’t petrify,” Scott explains, pushing them back up, over his eyes, and shoving the almost solid block of ice towards his head before Jimmy catches his hand, stopping Scott dead in his tracks.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says, very aware of the fact that Scott’s staring at him with gorgeous eyes that drive a spike into his middle even through the glasses. “A giant block of ice isn’t gonna do anything. Can I?” Scott nods, looking away, and Jimmy takes the washcloth, holding it tightly in his hands for a few seconds until the ice begins to slightly melt.

“I might need to touch your snakes,” Jimmy warns Scott. “I’ll try my best not to, but it might happen and you gotta know that so it doesn’t come as a surprise.”

Scott nods, muttering something Jimmy can’t quite make out. “What did you say?” he asks, still pretty unsure of how to go about ice packing Scott’s head, his hands hovering awkwardly.

“I said, I don’t care if you accidentally touch my snakes; so long as it’s you, it doesn’t matter,” Scott says slightly louder, looking anywhere but Jimmy. And he isn’t sure, but he thinks there’s a slight redness spreading across Scott’s cheeks- and that just brings Jimmy back to this morning, when he’d walked down the stairs in his dress and Scott had been there, total jumpscare, with he same blush adorning his face.

He can’t help but remember how the gorgon had looked at him like there was no one else in the world, like tunnel vision- and if he’s completely honest, he hadn’t really needed a backrub at the movie theater; it would have calmed him down just as much to simply brush his hair, and he'd had a brush with him just for that very reason.

But Jimmy’s a selfish person and he wanted a backrub from his crush.

“Jimmy,” Scott says, bringing him out of his thoughts, “My head hurts.” Jimmy’s eyebrows crease, and he moves forward, finally bringing the cold washcloth to Scott’s forehead with one hand, looping the other around to the backside of his head to support.

“I know it hurts, I think you’ve got a concussion,” Jimmy says, shaking out his wings. “I should really get you to a doctor, huh.”

Scott shakes his head suddenly and violently, wincing at the motion. “No. I don’t want to see a doctor. I don’t like doctors, all they’ve ever done is try to fix me and I don’t want to be fixed.” There’s genuine fear in his face, the kind that only comes from experience.

“O-okay,” Jimmy agrees, slightly taken aback by the outburst. “That’s… fine, then, I guess. But you need to keep your head still or it’ll just make it worse.” Scott mutters consent, and Jimmy reassumes his position, pressing the frozen cloth against Scott’s temple. They sit like that for a while, Scott still huddled in his blankets, Jimmy crouching next to him, very aware of the way his thumb is resting on Scott’s cheek, the skin soft and cold. And then Scott’s eyes flick momentarily in his direction, and suddenly a rope is connecting his and Scott’s minds, glowing and strong and-

For a split second, Jimmy feels like he’s somewhere else, a place that feels at once familiar and completely wrong. He’s in a movie theater, just a little kid, walking by the side of a much taller man. He knows instinctively that the man is his father, a person he admires and hopes to be just like one day. They’re going to see a new thirty-minute movie, a weekly tradition that he loves because it’s one of the only times he’s allowed to be with Father. 

And then the vision is gone, leaving him shaken and confused- he’s not sure if Scott’s seen it too, if the shock on the gorgon’s face is just his own imagination playing tricks on him or if something really did just happen- and if so, how? Neither of them bring it up, though- because Jimmy absolutely doesn’t want Scott thinking he’s crazy. So he keeps his mouth shut and continues pressing the ice to Scott’s forehead.

“How old are you?” The gorgon breaks the silence with the strangest question imaginable; has Jimmy really never told him that?

“I thought you knew,” Jimmy says, momentarily lifting the washcloth from Scott’s head so he can see him better. “I’m sixteen, I turn seventeen this August.”

“You’re almost a year younger than me,” Scott notices, looking Jimmy in the eyes in such a way that makes the avian shiver slightly, because Scott is so good-looking, the cyan of his snakes and irises piercing and just very…

Well. Scott’s a lot. In a good way, but he’s just hard to look at sometimes because of the way Jimmy’s stomach turns. He’s had a crush on Scott almost since the day they met, it developed within a week and now he’s fallen hard, deeply infatuated with a boy who’ll never like him back. But god, he’s just so… 

When it comes to Scott, there are no words.

And the worst part is, Jimmy doesn’t think he knows how gorgeous he is, how much he flusters Jimmy whenever he even looks in his direction. It’s infuriating, the way that he’s 

“Sixteen?” Scott asks, shaking off the comforter a little bit, his clothes soaked through. “You look older. You’re very pretty for sixteen.” He looks away at the last words, blushing slightly. Jimmy’s definitely not imagining that this time- oh, god, Scott must be so delirious right now, probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying.

“Um… thank you,” Jimmy says, his own cheeks probably red-hot at this point as he fidgets with the hem of his nightgown nervously. “You’re really nice-looking too, actually.” Oh, god, what is he saying, he’s so hopeless-

Scott turns in his direction, cheeks still flushed but seemingly determined to keep this conversation from going awkward. “Do you have anything for me to wear? I’m cold, my clothes are all wet.”

“Um, I guess you can borrow some of my pajamas, the only things I have are nightgowns though.”

“That’s fine, I’ve always wanted to wear more dresses but Father wouldn’t let me,” Scott explains, making to stand up.

“Oh, no, mister, you are not going anywhere. I’ll show you the options and then leave so you can get changed, okay?” Jimmy admonishes, shaking his finger and standing up off the bed, pulling open the sliding bamboo door to his closet and leafing through his garments. He’s pretty certain that he and Scott are about the same size, the gorgon’s only a couple inches taller and they have about the same build: slim and short.

Jimmy pulls off three of his comfiest nightgowns, one a deep maroon red fabric, silky and not very warm, but very nice for summer nights; one is bright purple, very fluffy and warm; but the last is Jimmy’s favorite of all, a light blue nightgown made of a soft cottony fabric, not too smothering but not too cold. And just as anticipated, when he shows them to Scott, the gorgon immediately points to the blue.

“Can I wear that one?” he asks, running his fingers along the fabric, seemingly infatuated with the texture of the soft fabric.

“Yeah, course,” Jimmy agrees, hanging up the other two back in his closet. “I’m gonna go get some food while you get changed, you can also take a quick shower if you need.”

“You don’t have scale grease though,” Scott points out, “So I wouldn’t be able to wash off my snakes.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jimmy concedes, plopping back down on the bed momentarily, leaning up against Scott. “But it might be nice to just get warm again, right? You felt ice cold.”

Scott laughs silently. “I’m always ice cold. It’s part of the whole thing.”

“Sure. But still.” Jimmy doesn’t press it, but he makes certain that Scott knows if he wants to warm up, he has the option to. Then he makes his way downstairs, giving the gorgon a quick, supportive hug- because let’s be honest, Scott’s probably just had the worst day of his life, and he needs it.

But oh god this situation is so- Jimmy squeaks a tiny scream under his breath because ARGH.

As soon as he gets downstairs, he lets out an almighty groan and falls down onto the couch, limbs splayed every which way. What on earth is he doing? Scott can’t stay here, Laura and John would never allow it, they were even a little on the fence about taking Jimmy in. 

But where else does Scott go? Jimmy can’t stand to see him so hurt, physically and mentally. He’s certain the gorgon’s delirious, at least to some capacity, and he doesn’t know what to do, because Scott doesn’t want to go to a hospital and Jimmy can’t drive anyway, also his phone’s out of battery and they don’t have a landline, so there’s none of that.

Plus, if he’s honest, he’s genuinely kind of flattered that Scott came to him over any of his other friends. He hadn’t thought they were that close, but apparently, Scott genuinely trusts him, and that makes Jimmy happy- not Scott’s situation, that part’s horrific, but he’s glad that what he said the first day they met really sunk in.

There’s just… so much to digest. Scott’s gay. Scott’s gay so technically, Jimmy stands a chance, though he can’t see what someone like Scott could ever possibly see in him, just a short, awkward little avian who can’t do anything right- and of course there is the fact that Jimmy’s just a curious little bird.

And it’s back, Patty’s voice is back, ringing in his ears- god fucking damnit, he hasn’t heard it all day- a part of him, a small part, has hoped that maybe, just maybe, it’ll be gone for good. He knows it’s silly to ever imagine that he’ll be free, that there will be a day when he won’t have to hide from the ghosts of his past, but he can’t help but hope- because all Jimmy wants is to be a normal kid, all he wants is to be safe and to fit in and have friends.

And now he’s finally found people who care about him, people who can be bothered to actually spend time with him (with the exception of Owen), and he loves them all so much: The way Shelby’s so kind to everyone but Joel, the way Joel pretends to take offense at all the little things but loves all of them so much anyway, the way Scott sits quietly in the backseat of the van, only half-listening to the conversation, before chiming in spontaneously, saying something so funny and deadpan that the rest of them keel over laughing.

Scott is… Scott is the kind of person Jimmy’s needed to meet for a very long time. He can’t imagine his life without the gorgon anymore, without his dry smiles and calm disposition and the emotional underside that Jimmy knows broils underneath, sharp and cutting and wishing for something more.

The only time Jimmy’s ever felt this way about someone was when Patty took him out for the first time, to the zoo in his old town, and he’d kissed a boy by the lion exhibit. Blue eyes and with the same bearing Scott has, but with more youthful exuberance, more of a wild side.

Jimmy’s wondered about that boy for a long time, and he pops into his head again as he grabs a bag of leftover samosas from the fridge, ascending the stairs and knocking briskly on his bedroom door. “Scott? You good? I brought food, can I come in?”

“Yeah, I’m dressed- I also made your bed, by the way.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that.” Jimmy turns the doorknob, pushing open the entrance to his room. Sure enough, there’s Scott, tucked in on one side of Jimmy’s bed, all Jimmy’s blankets spread evenly atop of the gorgon.

“I wanted to be useful,” Scott mutters, Jimmy handing him a samosa as he tucks himself into bed as well. 

“You were useful, but you also have a beast of a concussion. Did you clean your cuts too?” Jimmy adds, lifting up a finger to trace along the previously dark red slash on Scott’s cheek, now just a lighter shade of his skin tone, a slight pink peeking out from the inside of the cut.

Scott nods, and doesn’t resist Jimmy’s touch, instead flopping down against the pillows propped up against the back of the bed, head turned towards Jimmy, curiosity written on his features. “What was it like when you were a little kid? Did you ever do anything fun?”

“Hardly,” Jimmy laughs darkly, memories of the same rooms and the same house and the same people flashing through his mind. “I mean, I suppose there was one time when I went to the zoo.”

“What happened?” Scott’s invested now, Jimmy can tell.

“Well, I was seven or eight, and Patty, my guardian, was taking me to the zoo for the first time. Of course, I was super excited; I wanted to make friends and look at giraffes and all that kind of stuff. So she drove me there, and while we were looking at the orangutans, this boy, maybe a little older than me, came over from where his school was on a field trip and just straight-up asked if I wanted to be friends.

“Obviously, I said yes. I was so excited- I was really little, remember, so my wings hadn’t even fully grown yet. I don’t think he was fully matured yet either, as I couldn’t see any distinguishing features on him- he was wearing a hat, though, so I guess that could’ve covered horns or snakes or something. But anyway, I kinda ditched Patty to walk around with this boy, and then when we were in front of the lion exhibit, I dunno, he was kinda like, ‘Do you wanna kiss?’

“And I said, ‘Sure, why not?’ Because we were little, and everyone kisses someone when they’re little, just to kinda see, you know, what’ll happen. And so, we kissed, right? And I really don’t remember it that much but after that, I got really spooked and ran away just kinda left the boy in the dust, I could hear him calling after me but I didn’t respond because I was scared that Patty would be mad with me for interacting to such an extent with another person. And that’s, um, that’s about it, really.” 

He’s expected to hear something more from Scott, so he’s slightly surprised when the gorgon doesn’t respond to his story at all. Jimmy turns in his direction and immediately recognizes the look on his face- an unbelieving stare full of questions that haven’t been answered.

“W-was the zoo in Laurentown?” Scott’s practically shaking, his eyes wide and confused.

“How did you know?” A suspicion is growing in Jimmy’s mind, but that’s not a possibility, there’s just no way- what are the chances, how would that even happen?

“I kissed a boy at the zoo in Laurentown when I was little.” Scott’s voice is hushed, trailing off as his eyes meet Jimmy’s. “I’ve w-wanted to find him ever since.”

Oh, god. There’s no way, this can’t be happening- but he’s leaning into the hope that maybe it is, maybe something’s brewing, maybe the truth was right under their noses the whole time.

“Me too,” Jimmy confesses, his heart beating out of control in his chest, the three feet separating him and Scott feeling like miles.

There’s really nothing to do except close the distance. Scott crawls across the bed towards Jimmy until their faces are close enough that the gorgon can reach out a hand to touch Jimmy’s face, cupping his cheek, cold and deep and real. Jimmy shivers, both from the touch and the frozen feel of Scott’s skin. 

“I’ve missed you.” Scott’s voice is quieter than Jimmy’s ever heard it, and he has to remind himself that this is not his fairytale moment, Scott has a serious concussion and probably isn’t in his right mind, he really shouldn’t be letting this happen, but he needs to see-

Scott leans forwards and kisses him, quick and soft and too sudden for Jimmy to register anything other than the coldness of Scott’s lips, the chill of his skin in general, a direct contrast to Jimmy’s warm temperature. It’s only a moment, only a split second, and then it’s over and Scott smiles quietly at him, his eyes bright and hopeful, crawling back to his side of the bed.

Within a minute, Scott’s fallen fast asleep, Jimmy still petrified still in the same spot he’s been, the imprint of Scott’s hand still cold on his cheek, too shocked to do anything more than sit for a couple minutes. Then he sighs, resigned and shaking and not even sure how he’s feeling right now, and flops down on the other side of his bed, pushing his hands into his face with his wings spread akimbo. 

This is not good. This is not good at all. 

I mean, obviously Jimmy’s ecstatic that the boy he likes kissed him: that part goes without saying. But Scott’s delirious, he’s not in his right mind, anything he says could be a false memory, or something he thinks is true but isn’t- Jimmy doesn’t even know if he’s telling the truth about the kissing a boy at the zoo thing. But if so… he won’t let himself hope.

Jimmy’s been wondering what it would be like if he met the boy again for a long, long time, and now it turns out that potentially, zoo boy and Scott are the same person? That’s crazy. No, that’s actually insane. He lies there in silence for a couple more minutes before realizing that he’s been so caught up in all this that he’s forgotten to turn off the lights; Jimmy hops out of his bed, his gaze resting briefly on the gorgon snoring peacefully beside him, and flicks his finger across the light switch, darkness washing over his room.

He stumbles back to his bed and tucks in, pulling the blankets up above his head, his back pressed up against Scott’s. They really shouldn’t be sharing; Jimmy only has a small double bed and there really isn’t enough room. Plus, you’d think that having another person under the blankets would make it warmer, but Scott’s absolutely freezing. He’s warming up, but slowly, and Jimmy shivers, the cold stealing warmth from his body.

But he can’t have Scott sleeping on the couch, the gorgon has what looks like a beastly concussion, and Jimmy sure as hell isn’t gonna be sleeping on another couch in his life. He’s had enough of that back when he lived with Patty.

A part of him wonders why she hasn’t tried to contact him, wonders if she ever really loved him. Then he laughs, a dry snort that brings him back to his senses. She never loved Jimmy. She was rude and neglectful and only nice to him when he obeyed her, when he did what she wanted.

At least she’d let him wear dresses, though, even if it was only at home. The few times they went out, Jimmy remembers how he had to wear a giant hoodie to hide his bird-like features so Patty could pass as his mom, even in the heat of summer. Jimmy knows she’s still out there somewhere, knows he’ll probably have to see her again someday, whether it be in court or because she’s found him again, but it’s just oh so much easier to pretend she doesn’t exist.

His arms are resting behind his head, his wings tucked in closer so as not to disturb Scott, sleeping soundly besides him. Jimmy turns his head, his eyes following the gorgon’s back as it goes up and down with every breath, rhythmic and calm. Even his snakes are still, emitting quiet hisses every now and then, but other than that, not a sound comes from Scott- the snoring from earlier gone as if it’s evaporated.

If he concentrates, he can still feel the cold of Scott’s lips on his own, still feel the imprint of the hand on his cheek.

Goodness gracious.

Jimmy supposes he should get to sleep- though it’s a Saturday today, so no school tomorrow, he’ll have a lot of explaining to do anyhow. John and Laura are not going to be pleased that he has a boy sleeping in his bed- but maybe if he explains well enough, they’ll see how bad Scott’s situation is and let him stay for a little while.

He sighs deeply, stretching out his wings. As he does so, Scott turns in his sleep and grabs Jimmy around the middle like a little rag doll. Jimmy stiffens, the touch flipping over and over in his stomach. Cautiously, he moves his hands atop of Scott’s, both pairs resting comfortably around his waist. He needs to sleep, but he’s never felt more alive than right now.

It’s going to be a long fucking night.

#robert aeor high au #AUTHOR FELIX STRIKES AGAIN #scott smajor #smajor #smajor1995 #smajor95 #dangthatsalongname #solidarity #solidaritygaming #solidarity gaming #jimmy solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #jimmy #empires smp #empires fic

[soemthingsparkly]

i would absolutely love to share a rant!

all the characters are so psychologically fucked up in such a realistic way that i didn't see represented much. grian venting to tango about feeling left out. the fact that he felt left out at all over something so small. they're so codependent and i love it.

and then there's scott and jimmy's dynamic. scott kissing jimmy and then jimmy venting to grian and then grian just responding with "HE DID WHAT??????" and then at the cafe. the idea of someone doing something they shouldn't have and then having a panic attack over a third party's opinion on it is so... idk how to say it. like i said, a type of fucked up that you don't see talked about much and i relate so hard to it. it's clear scott's probably trying his best out at least trying a lot to not hurt jimmy but he's failing miserably and i don't think he even realizes it. and like. yeah. ive been there. i don't actually know why scott broke up with him but i get the vibe it was supposed to be like. to help jimmy in some way. like "oh wait ive been toxic maybe i should end this for his sake". but doing that obviously hurt jimmy, especially since he didn't say *why* he did it. and scott obviously did something really drastic and sudden so he's not doing well either and he really wants to go back to jimmy. he knows he's being manipulative and it's not on purpose but in trying to stop and be better he keeps making things worse. and like. this is all a side thing. this fic is mostly about mumscarian and you threw in this flower husbands sideplot but it's still so fleshed out and so *real*.

and speaking of the mumscarian thing the way you write their friendships, especially grian and mumbo's is amazing. it's not like. a stepping stone to a romantic relationship even though they are going to end up in one. very "not more than friends, different from friends" vibes /vpos. it doesn't feel like they're ending up in a romantic relationship. it feels like they're making their relationship romantic and i love that so much.

grian just texting mumbo that he's bored gives such hcs7 vibes and like he yeah they're so codependent and it's so obvious from grian's side my god

and the way you write pearl is amazing, she's got this sibling energy and it's great.

the way you write all of them is amazing actually. i can hear everything they say in their voices. the clockers are on point, especially scar and bdubs.

i could keep going im sure lmao but anyway great fic i love it if you read this ill cry /pos

This has been sitting in my ask box for a while because I just love it so much anon and I was like~~~ how do I respond to such a long ask with the same level of enthusiam?

I wanna break this ask into chunks and there's bits of your ask I wanna respond to directly, so...

all the characters are so psychologically fucked up in such a realistic way that i didn't see represented much.

I'm glad you think so! I definitely feel like I'm being a little bit risky with how I'm presenting some of the, I suppose, human consequences of being human?

I think a lot of what fandom (in general) consumes gets a little over-sanitised these days. Our favourite characters aren't allowed to be flawed like real people, they must be flawed in a way that is either endearing, entertaining (sarcastic or snarky), or easily forgivable.

But that's not always that interesting when it comes to wanting characters we can truly relate to?

Grian gets upset he's left out not just because he has Trauma™, but because he does have a co-dependancy on Mumbo that borders on unhealthy. Tango tells Grian to, in not so many words, get over himself and try and have fun - not because he knew Grian would respond well to it, but because he's blunt and doesn't know how to comfort people gently. Bdubs makes fun of Scar for being disabled, because he knows that everybody in that group chat understands he's joking and that his comments will never leave that group chat (in-world that is, of course, everybody who reads the fic will read them).

And Scott for example, is not a very well-liked character amongst readers at the moment, but he's absolutely one of my favourite to write. You put it pretty well here:

he knows he's being manipulative and it's not on purpose but in trying to stop and be better he keeps making things worse.

Like yes, exactly. He's trying to do better, but the actions he takes that he thinks (or is being co-erced into believing via mental illness) will make things better, keep making things worse and he doesn't really understand how to do it right. And haven't we all been in that position before?

And yet up until chapter 17, we've only ever seen into their dynamic from the outside. We've only ever seen Scott's actions from Jimmy's POV or from the POV of someone who cares about Jimmy.

And somehow it's Jimmy, of all people, defending Scott.

It's absolutely fascinating to see readers reactions and I'd be so happy to talk about this forever and ever and ever, hehehe.

And what you said about Mumbo and Grian's relationship, here:

very "not more than friends, different from friends" vibes /vpos. it doesn't feel like they're ending up in a romantic relationship. it feels like they're making their relationship romantic and i love that so much.

I'm actually SO glad you feel that way about them, because that's exactly the way I feel about them, too. They're not just friends, so much as they're Grian and Mumbo. The idea of them being friends almost suggests an alternative of them being not friends and I just don't there's a way in this world that they can exist and be without one another. So yes, I love this a lot and I love that you feel that way about them.

Thank you so much for this absolutely beautiful message - I am such a fan of analysing characters and their interactions and all that. Frankly, thank you for giving me a space to talk at length about the way these characters are in this fic!!

Here is a tissue for the tears, I hope you don't cry too hard. Remember to stay hydrated <333

Lumi <3

#the hermit coffee co. #hcc Grian #hcc Mumbo #hcc Scott #hcc Tango #hcc discussion #lumi answers #hcc Bdubs

[writingsbychlo]

💭 I wonder if you can write one with Stiles. Something like angst to fluff. They're not friends but she's in the pack. Something happens and they got scared and stuck together somewhere. “Are we going to die?” “If we die just know I love you.” “I don’t think I can do this without you.”

Something like that 😝🤭

i started writing this as a blurb before realising you wanted headcanons lmao my bad

no more requests, the sleepover is over! I am just filling out all the ones left in my inbox!

not getting along with stiles at all

he's anxious and doesn't trust too easily, you get that

but when he was still giving you the cold shoulder after months, you got tired of trying to win him over

so you stopped

it became easier to snark back than it was to just bite your tongue

it brought you a little satisfaction every time he got that look on his face when he had nothing left to say, and you got the final word in

but, deep down, there was always something nagging

something that cut a little deeper, because you didn't get why he didn't like you

there was a lot about him to dislike. he was kinda rude, and sarcastic at all the wrong times, and very opinionated

but there was a lot to like too

he was caring to the others, you'd seen it, and he was funny, as well as incredibly smart. he was thoughtful and loyal and handsome, and-

and you just didn't get it. so, you tried not to think about it too much.

maybe it was because you weren't lydia martin, or malia tate, because they never got this kind of treatment

but, you were damn good at research, and so was stiles, and that usually meant a lot of begrudging team-ups.

"look, I can't do this without you, alright? so just get dressed, I'm already on my way."

and then he hung up, and just like that, stiles stilinski expected you to be at his beck and call.

that was how you'd find yourself sitting in his car that night, staring out of the windows and sipping on a now cold coffee from the mcdonalds drive through, barely able to see anything

"what exactly are we doing, stiles? it's been hours. a lot of your stakeouts lately haven't lead to anything. I think you're losing your touch."

and his cheeks are a little red, the music playing quietly in the background, and he shrugs.

"better safe than sorry, right? just chasing leads, and stuff."

"lotta' dead leads. but, I suppose so."

"wanna' play a game while we wait?"

"sure."

stiles forcing you to get your phone out to download an app he swore would be fun.

shifting to face one another a little more, his arm brushing against yours as you both lean on the armrest in the of your seats.

"look, while we're here, there's something I kinda need to tell you."

and then there's a finger brushing very lightly over the back of your hand, and you can't help but twitch, and you're looking up at him

he's so fucking close, you can practically taste the sugar on his lips of the donut he ate hours ago

that look you've been seeing a lot lately is back, and you've no idea what it means, but he's close

like he's practically glowing

in fact, it kinda looks like he's being haloed

and he's licking at his lips but something behind him is glowing, and your eyes go wider

"stiles.."

"no, wait, i know you think i hate you, but-"

"no, stiles, what the hell is that?"

and he fucking curses under his breath as you both get out of the car

"should I call scott?"

"probably!"

and there's the stressed and snippy stiles you're used to

as you call, he's wandering off into the woods, and what are you supposed to do? let him wander off alone and die?

so, you call scott, and send a text to malia, and then you follow him

which, turns out to be a monumentally bad decision

because one moment you can see by the moonlight, just about

but then your phone dies, which is odd, because it was almost fully charged

and so does stiles'

and the deeper into the woods you get the darker it gets, and no matter what directions you walk in, it doesn't seem to get lighter

like you're walking in a maze instead of going back the way you came

and you were fucking terrified because there were noises, and you couldn't see the glowing anyone that you'd seen in the sky

you can barely even see stiles in front of you

and those noises are back, a little clearer around you, like voices chanting

it feels like there are hands on your body, but there's no one there, like something pulling you back into the darkness

but he seems totally unaffected

his hand is on your cheek and he's making you look at him but his words are silent as his mouth moves, all you can hear is the whispering getting louder into chants of words you still don't understand

so you try to read his lips

and it's something about mind games, something about the nogitsune, and something about focus

but how the hell are you supposed to focus, because it's too much

it's too much, it's shouting now, like having headphones turned on too loud, like lydia screaming right beside your ear, and being unable to turn it off

it hurts

and then, it's a little bit clearer

stiles's hands sliding down your arms, fingertips smoothing over your palms before his hands are linking to your own, and his forehead is pressed to your own

and it gets a little quieter

he pulls you closer, and you can hear the rasp of his breathing now, his mouth near your ear, arms wrapping little tighter around you as he holds you against him

"focus on my voice, okay? just stay with me."

"stiles, what the hell is happening?"

"nothing, to me. but, I think that's because after the nogitsune, nothing has been able to get into my head like that. I don't know what's happening to you, but I got you, okay? just hang on."

"are we gonna' die?"

"not before I get to tell you I love you when you're not crying."

and you didn't even know that you were crying, but now that you thought about it, you could feel the aching pain in your throat and the burn of your eyes

"you hear me? you stick with me, because even if you reject me, I need that closure. don't you dare die on me, okay?"

and then there was a weak laugh from you, and the beat of your heart thudding against your chest, terrifying you at the strength of it

"I won't reject you. promise."

"good to know." he'd mumble, right next to your ear, before dipping down to press a kiss to your cheek, nose bumping yours

but then it's getting louder again, and stronger, and you can't take it

the last thing you hear is your name, before it's fading away, and your knees are buckling, everything fading to black

when you wake up, it's in your own bed

and it's light outside again

the ache from your head is gone, and the smell of herbal tea is drifting through the house, the teabags you'd recently ordered

you're a little weak as you go down the stairs, and before you even reach the bottom, you can feel the eyes of every wolf in the house

"who's using my new teabags before I even tried them?"

and it's lydia, the clanging of a spoon against the ceramic mug sides, and she smirks a little at you when you reach the bottom of the stairs.

your throat is sore and your whole body aches, and everyone is staring at you with varying levels of relief, love and curioisty

and as your eyes moved over them all, stiles is standing at the back of your living room, red-rimmed eyes and a watery smile as his shoulders sag

it takes him only a second to cross the room, and there's different degrees of shock as his body collides with your own, arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you into him

liam is lost, scot is chuckling, and that smirk is still on lydia's face

"are you okay?" he's whispered, your arms coming up to hold him just as tightly as you nod "i was so fucking scared."

"that thing you told me last night. tell me again."

and he pulls back, splotches of deep red on his cheeks and his lips part, your finger covering them a second before he spoke. "later, when we're alone."

but then your finger is under his chin, pulling him a little closer, and he all but squeaks when your lips brush his.

"you'll like the response you get. promise."

#9ksleepover

[speechlessxx]

In The Rain. (Chris Evans x Reader)

Summary: Can a classic case of miscommunication be solved before the rain puts out the flickering light of love? 

Warnings: trash. lmao. this is better than my radio silence, so... lol... fluffy, angsty (you know the drill)

Word Count: ~2k

The lights flickered for only a second when the bright streaks that painted the sky were followed by deafening claps of thunder that shook your house. The rain was heavy as it pounded against the windows and the harsh winds were no kinder, but they were nothing compared to storm brewing within you.

A deep sigh escaped you as the blanket around your shoulders slipped off and pooled around your waist. You had a warm coffee in one hand and a book in the other while you sat at your reading nook watching the dark sky. It was a collection of poetry with several multicolored Post-It flags sticking out from its pages. Each color represented a feeling a poem elicited, and you found yourself flipping to those with a dark blue flag – the color of sorrow, heartbreak, sadness. In all honesty, it was self-pity.

You weren’t sure why you lingered for so long. Nothing but history and memories were keeping you in his life. The amicable breakup left you detached yet still attached to him. And what made everything worse was that you were still in love with Chris.

The breakup shocked those closest to you. You and Chris were – well … – the most unsuspecting perfect match. You were two completely different souls that balanced one another out. You complemented one another – hell, you completed each other. You were two independent entities that pushed the other to become a better version of themselves. The energy shared between you was radiant and the love was consuming. It was pure and unfiltered. Passionate. You weren’t one to believe in true love – in soulmates, or even twin flames – but then you met Chris and everything changed.

But like all matches – like all flames – they burn out.

You blamed it on anxiety – on expectations. You never had a long-lasting relationship. Chris was the first man you ever felt a true connection to – and that scared you more than you let on.

He was nearing 40 – the ripe age to settle down, to have a family. Although you were certain you wanted that with Chris, you weren’t sure if you wanted that now. Your reluctance had you absentmindedly push him away. You began to untether yourself to him. Untangling the beautiful, strong bond you once had until it was nothing but a single thread.

Although it was you that started to pull away, it was Chris who vocalized his unhappiness. It was Chris who instigated. The night you broke up, he refused to listen to your worries and your reasons for your sudden aloofness. “Do you even love me?” He asked you, but he didn’t wait for a response. You already blamed yourself – and it hurt twice as much when he blamed you, too.

It shocked you when you found out he told friends and family the breakup was mutual… because it was Chris who severed it … The supposedly mutual breakup kept an open door of communication for your families. While your family never bothered Chris or his kin, Scott constantly reached out to you, as well as his mother. They’d often invite you to house parties, dinners, karaoke nights… When you’d decline – finding it was a bit of a territory breach – they’d always claim Chris wouldn’t make an appearance but he always did.

Although you were broken up, you were forced to remain friends. You were forced to look at him across a dining table as if you didn’t know his deepest secrets. You spoke casually as if you never spent late nights unburdening your souls to one another. You acted as if you were friends that were never completely in love with each other.

You remembered the phone call from Scott this morning. He relayed a message from their mom, asking you to come to dinner. When you declined, Scott demanded for a reasonable answer. He often found, “I’m your brother’s ex-girlfriend” a useless excuse.

“I still love him, and it hurts because we’re pretending like we were never together.” Your voice broke. “I’m trying to pull away – trying to move on – but I don’t know if it’s me holding onto hope, or if it’s just....” You couldn’t finish your words – you weren’t sure how to. You felt guilty for confessing this to Chris’s brother of all people. You knew it wouldn’t confidential – that he’d tell Chris – but you just had to say it out loud once.

You heard Scott sigh over the phone. Taking pity on you, he decided it was probably best that you kept your distance from Chris – which was the opposite of the goal of him constantly inviting you out. “A storm��s coming tonight,” he mentioned. “And I know how rain helps calm you.”

But it did anything but that.

-=+=-

Chris had some idea of where it went wrong. The night it all ended, he blamed you. He knew he was in the wrong for that.

The night of his outburst haunted his memories, keeping him up all hours of the night. The image of your tearstained cheeks, reddened eyes, and pure heartbroken expression was burned into his mind. He saw it every time he closed his eyes. He remembered how you barely got a word in because every time you opened your mouth to speak, to reason, to argue, he spoke over you with such a heated, rage-filled tone that he didn’t even recognize.

He was afraid to lose you and because of his own arrogance and stubbornness, that’s exactly what happened.

You were unraveling your bond slowly, tactfully while he tore it to shreds.

And he regretted it every single day.

“Is (Y/N) coming?” He asked as subtly as he could while he and Scott set the table. Scott simply shook his head. Chris placed a plate onto the placemat as thunder shook the house, the glasses rattling slightly. “Do you know what she’s doing tonight?” He asked, trying to stay casual though everyone saw right through it. Scott’s brows were furrowed as if contemplating and his mouth was pressed into a firm line. Knowing him for all his life, Chris knew when his brother was hiding something. “Scott.”

“I can’t tell you!” Scott finally answered. That answer pulled at Chris’s heart – were you with someone? Is that why you weren’t here? “She’s just… she just needs a night.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chris frowned. An upside to this “amicable” breakup was having his family constantly pull you back into their atmosphere. He wasn’t sure if they did it for him (they did), but he was thankful for all the nights you walked into their family home, gracing him with your presence even if you barely spoke. His brother remained silent and Chris called his name again.

“She’s just upset, okay?” Scott revealed. Chris’s frown deepened as he cocked his head to the side in confusion. “She just needs some time to think and heal.”

“What does that mean?”

Scott sighed. “I can’t tell you. She told me not to – Chris… do you plan on getting back together with (Y/N)?”

“Of course.” Chris answered with no hesitation. “I love her.”

“Then, why’d you break up with her?” Scott asked.

The question caught him off guard. Of course, he planned his apology. He planned his dramatic way to woo you back into his arms – to make you fall in love with him again. He didn’t quite know how to execute it – should he have been a cliché with a boombox, calling your name outside your window?

“I… I guess I felt like she was pulling away… and so, I felt like I had to beat her to the punch,” Chris cringed. It was a childish sentiment… But perhaps it was because his ego couldn’t take being broken up with? Or perhaps the thought of losing you clouded his judgement so much and consequently, his fears came true.

Scott scoffed at his brother, rolling his eyes for effect. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah and I feel bad about it, but every time I try to talk to her, she closes up.”

“I wonder why.” Chris groaned annoyedly at his younger brother, slapping the palm of his hand to his forehead. “She told me before that she felt as if she didn’t belong with you because you’re ready to start a family and she wasn’t.”

“When she say that?”

“A while ago…” Scott scratched his chin.

“But I don’t… I don’t need a family right this second. I just need her.”

“Does she know that?” Scott asked him. “Because all she knows is that you had enough of her.”

“I didn’t really give her a chance to talk…” Chris confessed. “I just… I kinda just ranted at her.”

Scott sighed disappointedly. “In all honestly, brother, I think you need to have an actual conversation with her… Not just a I’m-gonna-yell-at-you …”

Lightning flashed through the windows as the rain steadily poured. It didn’t look as if it were going to let up any time soon. Chris glanced at the clock. It was early into the evening – if it hadn’t been storming, then the sun would be painting the sky a beautiful orange sunset. Instead it was dark, gloomy – uncertain like your future.

Without much contemplation, Chris rushed out of the dining room, cutting through the kitchen. His mother gasped when he barged through the doors and walked to towards the front. “What are you doing?” She called after him. “Dinner’s almost ready!”

“I’m getting my girlfriend back,” Chris told her. His mother’s worried expression melted into one of pride as she cupped her chest with her hand and gave him an encouraging smile.

“Go get ‘er.”

“Love you, ma,” Chris called before walking out the door and braving through the storm.

-=+=-

The doorbell startled you from your nap. You hadn’t even realized you began to drift to sleep. With little regard about your appearance, you drudged towards the front door, wondering who could be at your house at this hour – especially with a storm like this.

“Chris?” You gasped, eyes widening as your ex-boyfriend was shivering from the rain. He was drenched, standing at your front porch. “Why are you here in the rain?”

“We need to talk.” You felt the blood leave your face. The last time he said those words to you, he left you crying and heartbroken. Thunder rumbled as you stared at him. “Scott told me.”

“Of course he did,” you rolled your eyes with frustration. “Chris, I don’t want to talk –“ You tried to close the door, but he easily overpowered you, keeping it open.

“No, we need to talk about this,” Chris snapped before sighing. “(Y/N),” you always loved the way he said your name. “I don’t want a family right now… I just want you… I just need you.”

You stared at him. Chris was never one to lie. He was terrible at it. His eyes always gave him away. Much like they did tonight when they revealed he was being truthful.

“I’m sorry,” he told you. “I’m sorry I’m an asshole that night. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you – that I didn’t even try to listen.” He paused, waiting for you to butt in, but you never did. You just stared at him in silence as you processed. “You’re the only one I want to be with… and I understand if that’s not what you want… You can close the door and we’ll pretend this never happened. We can go back to whatever we were… But I’m not going to ignore this.” When you remained silent, he said, “please, please say something.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful,” you finally said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me doubting myself – that I started to push you away because I was afraid of what a serious relationship with you meant…”

He took a step towards you, hands reaching for you. One hand found its home at your waist, the other cupping your cheek. “It’s not your fault…” He said. “I love you and I always will. Please, take me back.”

“I love you, Chris,” you muttered before your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him towards your lips.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america imagine #andy barber x reader #andy barber #andy barber imagine #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysadale

[midethefangirl]

Captain America: Civil War - My Thoughts

I know this is like 5 years late but for this, I’d like to resurrect a barely dead discourse that succeeded in not just dividing the Avengers but also dividing the fandom. Before we start, content warning for spoilers and let’s dive into this mess.

So, basically, the entire conflict of civil war stemmed from General Thaddeus Ross (who is a hypocritical dick, btw) coming to lecture the Avengers on being destructive despite conducting destructive experiments (ahem, the Abomination and the Hulk) but I digress. Then, Ross presents the Sokovian Accords which is really lengthy and we see Steve reading like a few chapters(?). Now, let us note that the Accords were presented to the Avengers after a mission-gone-wrong killed about 11 people in Lagos (lay-gos, not lah-gos that pronunciation gave me headaches as a Nigerian).

So, the Sokovian Accords were written by 117 countries and vetted by the UN asking for the Avengers to be under oversight (which SHIELD would have done if HYDRA hadn’t infiltrated it in the first place but it is what it is). Somehow, Steve made it about “our right to choose” (how?! Cause I’m not understanding) and decided to not sign*.

*he later got back to sign, then backed out when he learnt that Tony had placed Wanda under house arrest (even though it was for her protection. I do believe Tony should have fully informed Wanda about keeping her in the Avengers’ Tower)

My issues with the plot of Civil War are:

1. The Sokovian Accords were not read out loud or placed on some kind of PowerPoint slide for the audience to understand why Team Cap is against the Accords. No, the fandom wiki is not a source because that one is from Agents of SHIELD and not a lot of MCU fans are familiar with that show (yours sincerely included). Assuming the contents were read out loud or discussed by the Avengers, I’d have understood why Team Cap refused to sign the accords but since none of that was given, I’d remain Team Iron Man for this one.

2. The Sokovian Accords is not the American Constitution. Then again, the MCU fandom tends to be American-centric and most Americans seem to have this belief that the world revolves around them (and it manifests itself in Civil War discourse).

3. Contrary to popular opinion, the Sokovian Accords were about 117 (mostly third-world) countries asserting their sovereignty and boundaries, not taking away rights from the Avengers. If we go by what the MCU wiki claims about the accords, yes, some parts are absurd (like asking for blood samples and using trackers, why are those necessary?). However, when 117 countries state that they want you to respect their boundaries, I think it is best to comply. Unfortunately, respecting boundaries is one thing the USA has a problem complying with and guess who happens to represent America?

4. The Accords affected only their hero lives, not their lives as a civilian. I doubt the UN would limit the Avengers’ movements as civilians

5. Let us not forget how Steve and Clint protect Wanda from accountability and responsibility. Wanda in the MCU is like y/n in many fanfics where everyone (except for the “big bad villain” who in this case is Tony and 117 countries) seems to love her and want to protect her from facing the consequences of her actions. Anyone *ahem Tony* who has a bit of problem with her is suddenly the enemy. Not to mention how Wanda seems to have a knack for causing destruction in African countries (Johannesburg, Lagos, Wakanda)

6. And fandom behaviour from the Team Cap stans

7. Also, why is Civil War not an Avengers part 3? It’s better than making it a Captain America trilogy and then trying to frame Steve as being right.

8. I do believe that the accords were sped up which left little time for the Avengers to discuss and compromise on certain issues. If they were given more time to discuss, compromise and negotiate, I think the movie would have ended better than it had.

9. In addition, I also agree with Team Cap stans on how the UN arbitrarily deciding to shoot Bucky on sight is a human right violation.

10. “The safest hands are our own” why does this sound like a white saviour talk point from Steve? The accords is about 117 countries wanting you to respect their boundaries and the best you can come up with to refute that is saying something a white saviour would say?

11. “Even if the whole world is telling you to move...” just shut the fuck up, this is no way comparable to 117 countries trying to assert their sovereignty.

12. Look if I have to choose between surrendering a few rights as a hero and just dismissing that of civilians as potential damage, I’d go with the former because the people whom I’m suppose to protect come first. For me to dismiss their deaths as “we can’t save em all” is just not it.

13. “She’s just a kid”, a few years later and I still hate that term. One, it’s infantilizing an adult white woman (something white men have historically done and we all know how that went) . Two, while Tony was obviously wrong for not informing Wanda about her house arrest, he was right to keep her in the Tower when they were people who would harm her with every chance they could find. **

** after watching WandaVision, some people might find every reason to want to harm her.

14. Let us also discuss the motivation of those in Team Iron Man vs Team Cap

Team Iron Man

Tony: feels guilty for the events of Age of Ultron, believes that he’s stepped out of line and the Avengers need oversight.

Natasha: believes that the Avengers should listen to the public and the UN after all, if they had one hand on the wheel, they can still steer.

Vision: believes that the Avengers as a whole bring challenge which brings conflict and then catastrophe.

Rhodey: a soldier; believes in following orders especially when it is from the UN and 117 countries.

T’Challa: dude is just there to kill Bucky. I’m sure if Bucky was on team Ironman, my guy would have joined team cap, lmao 😂.

Spider-Man: not really there for a reason except to bring in Steve to Ross. I do agree that Tony shouldn’t have dragged him to the fight without Peter making an informed decision.

Team Cap

Steve: didn’t want to sign because it takes away his “right to choose”. Idk what that means or how it is relevant to the Sokovian Accords but okay. However, I understand his mistrust considering a few movies ago, we found out HYDRA had infiltrated SHIELD and as much as I believe governments are corrupt and the UN is shit, you cannot just enter a country anyhow without warning ahead of time.

Bucky: was his motivation given? I mean, I believe he joined Steve’s side to stop Zeno from unleashing the other winter soldiers. Not that that’s a bad reason, it isn’t.

Sam: again, I don’t think the movie gave us a reason for him being against the Accords. Did he also believe it was taking away his “right to choose”?

Wanda: undecided as of moment of discussion. Joined team cap because Tony placed her on house arrest. While I agree that Tony should have informed her that he was putting her under house arrest and stated the reasons why, I believe it was for good reasons especially when some people might decide to carry out witch hunts (you get it, witch hunts? 😅)

Clint: only joined because Wanda was placed under house arrest. We aren’t given any reason why he would oppose the Accords.

Scott: fan boy of Captain America, need I say more?

15. Also, to Team Cap stans blaming Tony Stark for Team Cap being imprisoned, grow the fuck up. The people in Team Cap are all adults who made their own decisions yet Tony is to blame for them breaking the law (because they did break the law), wtf.

16. “Are you capable of letting go of your ego for one damn second?” Like Steve’s ego didn’t play a part in all this too, lmao.

17. Okay, the final battle was intense and while I believe Bucky was also a victim, I can understand why Tony lashed out at him. The one to blame here is Steve because even if he had no clue Bucky was responsible for the Starks’ death, he still lied to Tony by not telling him who was responsible. It is more appalling to learn that Steve, in an attempt to “protect Tony and Bucky”, was actually covering for HYDRA!

Also, the way Steve stood emotionless while Tony watched a footage of his parents being killed. Yet, he could shield Wanda from watching the news because of how it affected her, okay.

“I can do this all day”, fuck you, Steve

18. Clint exploding at Tony is so fucking hilarious. Tony is right, Clint has a family yet he decided to fight in a war that didn’t concern him. Also, his comments about breaking backs is so tone deaf after Rhodey just broke his back!

19. If Sam was Captain America, I think Civil War wouldn’t have happened at all, from the dialogue in the Raft.

20. Overall, this movie is a fucking mess and I hate it for dividing both the Avengers and MCU fans.

Before I close with this, I want to add that I am not anti-Steve but Civil War really made me hate him. I get, Steve is supposed to be a Boy Scout and shit like that, but he’s a Gary Stu in the MCU, let’s be honest about it. Civil War should have been an Avengers movie, rather than a part of the Captain America trilogy. The Avengers should have been given more time than three days to discuss the Accords and make necessary amendments; after all that went down in Lagos, Wanda should have been made to sit out missions and maybe we could have had someone like Doctor Strange help in training her; Crossbones would have made a great villain but it is what it is; Peter’s introduction to the MCU could have been as him actually interning for the Stark Industries and forming a kind of acquaintance with Tony Stark before Tony finds out that he’s Spider-Man; Steve should have told Tony about HYDRA‘s hands in his parents’ deaths. Anyway, I’ll go read Civil War fix-it fanfics and fanfics where the Avengers are more like family. Fuck Civil War and I’m outta here.

Edit: okay this was a thought I had when I was trying to sleep but it was too good to ignore. Rhodey has a point about Steve arrogance (if that’s the correct term) in saying “the safest hands are our own” and here’s why:

Like he stated “this is not the World Security Council...neither is this SHIELD nor HYDRA” (paraphrased). This is the UN as well as 117 countries. Look, I am as anti-government as one can go and I don’t believe that the UN are reliable (plus, if we really want to go by the AoS version of the Accords, the Accords are flawed and they need amendments), however, given the US records on disrespecting boundaries in many third world countries, I can understand why 117 countries are wary about a bunch of superpowered Americans entering their country.

To us, the Avengers are saving the world. To these 117 countries and the people who have families who were killed in the crossfire (Zemo is a good example), the Avengers are a bunch of nuisances who leave destruction wherever they tread.

I am still neutral on the whole Accords as I don’t know exactly what it entails but for Steve to go “we are surrendering our rights to choose” (again, how is the Accords threatening the Avengers’ right to choose?) when asked to be under oversight is tone deaf.

#marvel cinematic universe #captain america civil war #team cap critical #mcu critical #not anti steve rogers btw #wanted to clarify #steve rogers critical

[drstrangefictions]

One-Shot

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,995

Spoilers: Not that I know of?

Warnings: Changed a little bit of certain scenes for story purposes. Some Anti-Steve, Pro-Tony propaganda lmao. Mention of Tony’s funeral. OOC Bucky. Absolute trash. Make your own assumptions about readers life kinda thing lmao.

“So, we’re supposed to trust him? Just like that?” Sam stood between her and Steve, eyeing Bucky. “Because Steve –.”

She shrugged, cutting Sam off. She wasn’t really interested in hearing the rest of what he had to say. “Steve’s the one you need to complain to, not me. Besides, I’m not even here for Steve. You are.”

Sam looked at her, he was under the impression she was here for the same reason he was, it seemed now that he was wrong. “What does that mean?”

She put her hands in the pocket of her pullover hoodie and kept her eyes forward. “Sorry to break it to you, but my loyalties lie with Stark. He is reasonably upset, for a lack of a better word, with Steve and his decisions and beliefs. I’m not here to agree with Steve, “oh boo-hoo the Sokovia Accords! Wah!” I signed them.” She scoffed, glancing at Sam. “I’m here for the former Sergeant Barnes and I’m here for you.”

Sam took a step back, visibly shocked. He glanced at Steve, who wasn’t giving them so much as a passing glance, but it was apparent he was listening to her. Steve carried on with his business off to the side, pretending he wasn’t the impacted by her words. Sam then glanced at Bucky, who was looking at them as they spoke. Bucky looked as though he was trying to understand them, specifically her and her reasonings for doing things. He wounded her and she still aided Steve in finding him. She had found him moments before Steve to warn him about what was to come and insulted the not-so-safe safe-house. She had successfully confused him. She didn’t seem to care that they could hear her speak either. It was almost as if she wasn’t trying to hide it, Bucky wasn’t entirely sure if that was her intention.

Sam pointed at Bucky. “Him? They guy that tried to kill us?” He looked at her, with his eyebrows raised.

“Meh, I wouldn’t say tried, more like failed to.” She watched a vehicle pull up. “But… yes, Sam. Him. Not Steve and his self-righteous morals. This is the god damn 21st century, this is not a war against Germany or a society you should be conforming to. This is – excuse my language, Rogers – fuckin’ stupid.” She looked past Sam to watch Steve’s reaction.

Steve glanced at her, partially amused and partially sick of the running joke. “Still not living it down I see.” He muttered to himself. He approached Clint, Wanda, and Scott who emerged from the vehicle.

She took her hands out of her pocket and slipped out of her pullover. “It really is stupid and there are not enough words in any existing and dead language to describe it. Swearing like a sailor doesn’t even help! I’m not here for Steve. I won’t keep it to myself anymore, he is self-righteous. Everything he does may be fine back in the ‘40s where he comes from and thinks he still lives, but not here, not now. Not in the 21st century. I’m here for you, Sam. A pararescue who walked back into this life because Captain America asked him to! You know loss, you lost a colleague – a friend. You are a great man and a good friend, Sam.

“I’m here for Clint, who has a family and shouldn’t be fighting this fight because of them and for them. For Clint who I’ve worked with and known for years. I’m here for Wanda, who is rightfully angry that Stark, my true ally, used to produce weapons – those of which were the reason she ended up where she did! I’m here for Scott, who I barely know. He has a kid! Why is he here?! I’m here for the former Sergeant Barnes who didn’t ask to be experimented on, to be “saved” from the fall, to be brainwashed.” She turned to Steve. “I’m here for everyone that isn’t named Steve Rogers because they gave me a reason to help you.” She walked up to Steve.

Bucky was ready to intervene, to pull her away from Steve if he had to or even try to punch her. He seemed to be the only one willing to do so. She approached Steve as if she would punch him or something of the sort. Instead she just stood in front of him. Bucky let his guard down seeing as he was wrong about what she would do to Steve.

“I’m not here for someone who thinks he is morally above everyone in this room.” She put a finger to his chest. “You think Stark is self-righteous? You think Stark views himself above everyone? He does it to hide the fact that he is insecure. You don’t have a reason to do it. Not saying Stark is correct, but neither are you.”

Steve grabbed her hand and removed it from his chest. He seemed unphased with her outburst. “And I am grateful that you are here for them.”

She pulled a small key out of her back pocket and unlocked the gauntlets on her arms. She threw the gauntlets and key at his feet. “Is this the part where we suit up? Because it looks like you all are slacking.”

“You sleep in that suit.” Steve took a step back. “Everyone that doesn’t sleep prepared – suit up.”

“Stand down, Captain!” She raised her voice at Steve, she had never truly raised her voice before that moment. She held Steve’s shield in one hand and had her other hand against Tony’s chest plate. She wasn’t pushing them a part; she was simply keeping Steve from continuing to hit Tony with the shield. “I will do it; you know I will.”

Steve stood up and stared down at her and Tony, seeing how serious she was with her threat. “Why did you come here?”

“It definitely wasn’t to babysit the three of you. I turn my back for five seconds and it all goes to shit, I feel like. Tony should be thankful I decided that following him was the best course of action.” She stood up, keeping her eyes on Tony. Tony kept his eyes on her, even after knowing her for so long, she was still unpredictable. He was on the ground it such a depressing state, she wondered what would have happened had she not stepped in. “You can’t beat the shit out of all of your problems, Steve. I’m taking Tony home, Get Sergeant Barnes out of here, NOW. And don’t you dare contact me unless it is about him.”

Bucky looked at her upon hearing his name slip past her lips in such an aggressive tone. He still was not sure why she kept doing what she was doing or why the only reason she be contacted was for him, but he did appreciate that she was willing to concern herself with him. Ever since Steve figured out the Winter Soldier was Bucky; she had always followed Steve to try to help. He watched her as she tried to hold Tony back from attempting to land another hit on Steve.

“Don’t do it, don’t do it.” She repeated in a low voice, trying to block him without using her powers.

“Steve.” Bucky said, not loud enough to be heard over Tony.

Tony stopped fighting against her and instead pointed a finger at her. “I don’t even know where the begin with you. You signed the Accords and you still ran off with Steve for his buddy over there. Did you know too? Do you know what his friend did? My parents are dead because of him. Do you have any idea what you’re fighting for?”

“Don’t do this now.” She took a step back, keeping herself between Tony and Steve.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you. My father made it.” Tony pushed her out of the way and approached Steve.

She glanced at Bucky. For a brief moment they locked eyes. She looked away from him quickly and turned her attention back to Tony and Steve.

Steve pushed the shield towards Tony. “Take it.”

Tony passed her the shield. She took it but not without glancing at him, she didn’t exactly want to be the one to carry it, but she was prepared to. “Stark, let’s go before I drag you myself.” She clipped the shield to her back and walked past them with Tony in tow.

“I’m sorry about…” Bucky started.

She stopped him. “Don’t.” She turned to look at him. Her eyes looked dull compared to the last few times Bucky saw her. They had always been filled with some kind of rage, excitement, or they were just bright. “I know you mean well, but this is the last thing I want to talk about, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky.” He finally corrected her.

She barely nodded. “Sorry – Bucky.”

He kept his distance from her. Neither of them are very personable nor do they enjoy being close to people. Bucky did it more so out of respect for her, uncertainty of how close to her is too close. “Steve wanted to know if you were going to join us for dinner. He thought it was best that Sam or I ask you because well...”

She exhaled, amused. She figured Steve would send someone other than himself to fetch her. She looked back at the water for a moment, she wanted to stay for a while longer and let her emotions out in the only way she had ever known, but for the first time in a long time she craved interaction and distraction. “Steve is paying, right?” She flashed Bucky a grin. “Only way I’m going is if he pays.”

“I hope so, that’s how he got me.” Bucky smiled, joking along with her. “C’mon, I don’t want to get left behind.”

She followed Bucky. “Is it just us four?”

He shook his head. “Scott and Wanda are joining us.”

“What I’m hearing is, I get to pick a single person to ride with me in my car and Sam gets everyone else?” She jogged to catch up to walk beside him. “If that’s the case, I’ll take either you or Wanda.”

“Is that so?” Bucky looked over at her. “Would it be wrong if I grabbed that seat first?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I don’t believe so. Wanda doesn’t know she had the opportunity to ride with me.”

Bucky sat across from her, he dressed as thought he were trying too hard to blend in. She looked like she had this down to a science, she didn’t look as out of place as he did. Each time he had seen her she had some kind of suit on and was prepared for anything. This time, she looked very casual and relaxed, something he rarely saw from her. She also seemed a bit different than the last time he saw her, but he couldn’t place the difference.

He was silent, trying to figure her out as he has been since he had met her. She disappeared from everyone’s radars almost immediately after Tony’s death. She was untraceable for the following five months. Bucky was concerned, from what he knew about her, she wasn’t the type of person to leave without saying anything – Bruce had confirmed that for him a few months back. He did worry about her, not that he would admit it to anyone.

“You’re staring. I didn’t call Sam to bring you out here for you to stare at me with an expression like that, Bucky.” She said, pulling him back into reality. She had a cheeky smile plastered on her face. “I just wanted to check on you. Steve apparently got old, you’re stuck with Sam, you’re…” She motioned to his entire person. “…you.”

Bucky looked down at the table and nodded, taking some offense to what she had said, but also understanding what she had meant. “I’m me, so you had to check on me.”

“I couldn’t find the right words, I’m sure you know what I really meant though.” She slid him a catalog envelope that he seemed to have overlooked.

“What’s this?” He asked, picking it up.

“Nothing to worry about. I would wait to open it, though.” She flashed him a genuine smile.

Bucky looked at his name on the backside, beautiful calligraphy. She clearly planned to give this to him for whatever reason she had. She also took her time in writing his name across the back.

“I have something else for you.” She handed him a flip phone. “Sam mentioned something about it in the event you need some help. You need a way to call for it. I got everyone you would need from Agent Hill to that spider kid. These aren’t necessarily traceable either.”

Bucky took the phone from her. “You didn’t –.”

“But I did.” She leaned back, cutting him off. “Look… I’m sorry for disappearing on you two for a few months. I had to take care of something that took precedence over everything else. When I spoke with Sam, he mentioned that you had asked about me while I was gone. So… I did this.”

Bucky looked at her, almost feeling guilty for asking about her. Had Sam not told her that he asked about her maybe they wouldn’t be here talking. He couldn’t decide what was a better feeling. “You don’t seem like the type to just leave without saying anything.”

“You’re right, but sometimes it just has to happen. If the Falcon and the Winter Soldier need a hand from now on, I’m available.” She picked up her hot coffee.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Bucky said. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what do you call that power of yours?”

“Ferrokinesis. Or if you’ve ever watched Avatar: The Last Airbender, Metal-bending.” She set her elbow on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

Bucky sat back. “Remind me not to piss you off, then.” He chuckled.

She smiled. “I would never use your arm… although I did think about it years ago. Never got the chance because of the gauntlets. Had to stick with being thrown onto a car.”

Bucky sunk in the seat; remembering he did toss her onto the roof of a car like a ragdoll. He would have preferred to not have been reminded. “Why did you even have them in the first place?” He asked.

“They were created out of fear. Pierce was one of many who feared what I could do, and it eventually made sense. S.H.I.E.L.D was compromised, had Pierce not been H.Y.D.R.A, I wouldn’t have had them at all. The man who made the gauntlets though, he didn’t fear me. He made everyone believe there was one way to remove them, through Pierce.” She looked at the table with no readable expression.

Bucky understood what she was saying. “You’re telling me, as long as you had the time to remove them –.”

“Yessir. It was one hell of a game I played. Imagine if I fought you without the gauntlets.” She kept her gaze on the table, barely keeping a smile on her face.

Something was bothering her, and he could tell now.

Bucky sat down staring at the envelope. She told him it was nothing to worry about, yet the contents did worry him. He slowly opened it and pulled everything out. A chain slipped out from between some of the papers and hit the floor. A few small photographs slipped out as he picked up the necklace. He grabbed the photographs and looked at them. A few were of his family, and a few were of him and Steve. He placed the photographs next to him and looked at the chain, his military dog tags. He wasn’t sure if he should be angry with her for going out of her way to get the things he has seen so far or be thankful for someone like her doing something like this.

He flips through the stack of papers, some are far more important than others such as a list of living relatives, confidential files on him, documents stating that he is no longer a criminal and instead considered an Avenger, and a check. He had everything laid out around him, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling or should be feeling now. Possibly angry, believing that this is what took precedence over everything else. Possibly happy. Grateful for the trouble she went through to do all of this for him. Skeptical and unsure of what to do about his living relatives and why that was included. Concerned if she had spoken to them and they know. Furious with the check – she has no business giving him that much money – which makes him wonder how she could afford to even do that.

He sits in silence, thinking it over and taking it all in. He doesn’t get the chance to considering making a phone call as his phone starts to ring. He doesn’t look to see who is calling him, instead he just answers.

“Hey, Buck – sorry for calling. I was just calling to make sure the phone actually works! Stupid of me not to test it out before giving it to you, right?” She came up with an excuse on the spot.

Bucky knew who it was as soon as she started speaking. “That’s not why you called.”

She was silent for a moment. “No, it’s not. I just wanted to see if you opened the envelope.” Her voice trailed.

“I did… was this why you left?” He asked. After looking at what was included, he understood why she said to open it later.

“No, like I said, it took precedence. This was kind of just a detour on my way home.” She was shivering, he could tell she was outside somewhere. “Thought you would appreciate some kindness and rewards. I mean… being Sam’s friend probably doesn’t come with rewards. Eh… it definitely doesn’t, I would know, I’m still waiting for my rewards!” She laughed.

Hearing her laugh made him smile. “Why don’t you just do something nice for yourself then?”

“That’s absurd. Oh! I have one more thing for you and I left it outside, I wasn’t able to give it to you earlier unfortunately. You can actually see it from your window because I am the master of this shit!” He could hear her grinning.

The curiosity she fueled compelled him to look out his window… only to find her outside. He pressed his forehead against the glass, disappointed and amused. “You.”

“Me! Yes! Hi!” She waved violently. “I’m the thing outside. And I’m on the phone with you! Bet you didn’t see that one coming!” She laughed to herself about her own genius.

Bucky opened the window. “Aren’t you cold?”

She hung up the phone and resorted to yelling to him. “I would’ve been fine if I didn’t decide to have ice cream before I got here! Do I regret my decision? I’ll do it again! Oh, I have a question for you.” She stuffed her hands in her coat pockets.

“Ask away.” He enjoyed this side of her. Very… interesting.

She swayed slightly. “So… a friend of mine told me you usually ask the girls out. How does it feel being on the other side?”

Bucky was surprised. “Are you asking me out?”

“Well, yeah. I tried to come up with a pickup line when I was planning this. Uh, yeah, I ended up with a wack ass plan of confuse the Bucky, give him things, and freeze to death as I scream at him. I mean, it’s working right? Am I even doing this right?” She smiled.

She definitely is interesting.

“Listen… I might be a little too aggressive, I might come off too strong, and I very much go overboard. Can you tell? And it’s scientifically proven that I also don’t know much about anything. But I do know that I care about you and I would do anything for you. And I do know Sam actually bullied me when I was just crushing on you. Listen, Sam is a terrible wingman off the field… I was so afraid he’d call me out and ruin my life. I – anyway – I absolutely know for a fact that I fall fast and hard and my feeling are wrong 99% of the time. This has got to be the 1% where I’m right.” She was nervous and cold which was an awful combination.

“You inherited the stupid. I’m letting you inside.” Bucky thought about what she said on his was down the get the door for her.

She was already inside. “Door was unlocked, I’m guessing Sam…” She had slipped her arms in her coat and left her sleeves dangle. “You know what made it worse?”

“You did not drive with the windows down.” Bucky sighed, knowing she did.

“I like to feel cool. I will freeze to death before I admit I am lame.” She brought her coat up to her nose and shuddered. “Are you free Saturday evening?”

Bucky looks at her. “You’re working tonight?”

She nods. “Nothing too bad. I changed before I came here. I don’t sleep prepared; Steve is a liar.”

Bucky chuckles. “I wouldn’t think sleeping prepared would be comfortable.”

“I have to disappoint you, by the way. I’m not staying here much longer either. I have to go home sometimes.” She smiled. “I’d like to be home long enough to have a pet. How cool would it be if I just had a whole god damn lizard?”

“A lizard?” Bucky questioned it, even though he knew that was no good.

She perked up. “You never answered what I said outside or about Saturday! We keep avoiding it!”

“As long as you drive with the windows up Saturday.” Bucky said.

“Deal!” She would give him a thumbs up if her hands were not in her coat.

“I don’t agree with most of what you said. You do go overboard… and I have witnessed Sam bully you.” He paused.

“At least you’re honest!” She shuddered. “Fuck!”

He ignored her outburst as he was sort of used to it. “I don’t believe your feelings are always wrong either.” He told her.

“So, am I right?” She squinted.

He looked at her as though she were a special kind of stupid, which in his own opinion she was not. “Did I not just agree to go out with you on Saturday?” He watched her try to be warm.

“I have to confirm.” She slipped her hands back through her sleeves.

“You are right.” He said, giving her a slight smile. He almost felt awkward standing in front of her. He wasn’t sure what he should be doing with himself in her presence. He would invite her to sit down if she weren’t on her way to work.

“Awesome! This is great! Can you believe I’ve never actually done something like this before? I was going to change the whole plan and say something earlier, but I failed and used just used the time in between to work up the courage to do this. I have to go! I will see you Saturday! At… uh… well I didn’t think that far!” She gave him a quick hug. She wasn’t a hugger; she hasn’t been for a long time. Bucky has honestly never seen her hug anyone except for Tony a total of one time. She went to leave and walked straight into the door as she didn’t full the door open. “I meant to do that!”

“Just letting you know; you have to turn the door handle to open doors.” Bucky demonstrated in air, chuckling. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let her live this down.

She swung the door open. “Saturday! I’ll give you a time by tomorrow!”

#james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #james x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mcu x reader #marvel cinematic universe x reader #james buchanan barnes x female reader #james barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x female reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #the winter soldier fanfiction #captain america: civil war fanfiction #captain america: civil war #avengers: endgame #avengers: endgame fanfiction #one-shot #one shot

[harrysdimples]

folklore track by track review

the 1: love me a piano intro. oh this guitar?? swearing in the first 5 seconds? I like these lyrics. never bleed????????? hmm.................it would’ve been you.............I..............it would’ve been fun if you were the one.........bruv..........dare I say it...............am I just clowning.....or like.......................is she....ya know.......talking about........you know.......h****?? oh these vocals ! bruv I don’t care this is about harry because I say so afhdjssa. I really love this production and her vocals, it already sounds so much more mature than lover and it’s only the opener, feels like a more-mature version of a deep cut on red. excellent start!

cardigan: oh this percussion?? the piano?? her voice sounds fab. is this about the met? black lipstick? or bleachella? her VOCALS bruv sound 10x better than anything on lover?? I love these lyrics omg. THIS IS SO GOOD. HEARTBEAT ON THE HIGH LINE ONCE IN TWENTY LIFETIMES. this so good?? try to change the ending peter losing wendy?? leaving like a father running like water????? I love this so much omg. the atmospheric vocal...the percussion....the lyrics.....the piano......LAV IT. I can’t get over how already this is more lyrically dense than lover and reputation but I ain’t complaining!! I’m both surprised and not surprised that they went with this for the single from this era but I really like it, it feels like it would fit right at home in the NFR tracklist.

the last great american dynasty: love these strings?? omg the beat? is this political? hmm I like the lyrics of the verses but i’m not 100% feeling the lyrics/structure of the chorus, feels a little like she’s trying to fit too many words into the line, but I love the storytelling aspect of it and it’ll probably grow on me. it’s like a grown-up version of starlight or the lucky one. Is this supposed to be like an alternate version of what taylor’s life could’ve been like? or am I just completely misinterpreting that lmao?

exile ft. bon iver: like this piano intro. love bon iver. oh the birds in the background?? ooft these lyrics....brutal. is this about calvin? is that a kazoo? afjdshjsa I promise i’m not trying to be like this but like......this is very......hm. I really love his voice. the bridge is really pretty with both their voices. I can see myself staring dramatically outside the window listening to this when we’re allowed to properly go back outside lmao. very nice and pretty, it’ll probably hit harder later on than my first listen but I like it. 

my tears ricochet: this a-cappella intro? oh this is sad :( what a ghostly scene....................................I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace :( oh this buildup?? I still talk to you........omg these atmospheric vocals I. LOVE. I need to read the lyrics on my next few listens to this but I really like it so far.

mirrorball: this feels like the outro in a coming of age 80s movie. love the soft guitars. oh these vocals! I know she didn’t mean to but when she signs tallest it sounds like she’s saying toilet to me lmao. jack’s atmospheric vocals!!! yes!!! the bridge is really beautiful. all I do is try, try, try. I’m just trying to get you to look at me :( I do have to say, while I love how lyrically dense this album is and reflective it is in comparison to her last few albums, the instrumentation doesn’t change a whole lot throughout these songs on first listen, it’s more that atmospheric vocals/sounds are built on top of it, which is fine, but I think they’ll benefit a lot from me listening to them outside the context of the album. love the meaning behind this though and I think it’s really beautiful.

seven: (this is when I stopped doing live reactions and instead went for post track reactions) Is it weird to say that this did better at the “love letter to love” concept meant for lover than lover did? this song feels more like for her legacy/future family and how she’s grown than as an active, present moment which is nice. I will say while I did love NFR when it came out, it also hit a wall with me eventually where it needed some breathing space or something to break up the sections of the album (which harry does actually quite well) and I feel like we’re hitting that point (if we haven’t already). I’m always slightly apprehensive about long albums like this which is why I said this will benefit from listening outside the context of the album. 

august: I’m really curious as to who this is about lmao. but this was excellent in the progression of the track and the buildup/atmosphere and dynamics of the track, this was what I was wanting a bit more with songs like exile and it did great at building a different sonic landscape which is what was needed in the album imo. one of my favourite tracks so far.

this is me trying: this is very...wistful and reflective. a hybrid of the archer and I wish you would to me. “I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere, Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here” is a LYRIC bruv. feels reminiscent of what she said in the miss americana documentary about how you’re stunted in your growth when you become famous at a young age and you fall behind the emotional development of most people around you, which is really interesting. “Pouring out my heart to a stranger, But I didn't pour the whiskey” is that supposed to be like a metaphor for stopping herself from saying too much all the time because she knows it could get out/be perceived in a certain way? either way, these are some great lyrics. “you're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town” hmmm.....

illicit affairs: I LOVE THIS. EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS. I have nothing else to add. this is fantastic. favourite track so far. amazing. 10/10.

invisible string: this song is really sweet lol I wish I was in love with someone to relate more to this. very referential to her work as a whole and I liked the more stripped down production.

man this is a long album lol

mad woman: FUCK YOU FOREVER. scream. this is very lana-fied lmao. I wish she did a little more with the electric guitar in the back though, imagine this more being soft-rock? so this is definitely about scott and scooter right? I do like this but it does feel very sonically similar to some of the tracks we’ve heard so far and I wish she had switched it up a little to fit the excellent lyricism of this song, more guitar would’ve really elevated the song imo. 

epiphany: lol I got a bit emotional listening to this, I can already tell i’m going to listen to this at night and cry lmao. I have a massive fear of death/the unknown and this song sort of touched on that concept to me and I really liked the production. this feels like it should be in a movie soundtrack or in like, grey’s anatomy. the heartbeat-like sound in the outro? beautiful. this is the sort of concepts I’ve been wanting from taylor for a while now and the execution of this was really good imo. 

betty: ms swift it’s okay to be gay. the elaborate-ness of putting yourself in the position of a man just to say you liked a girl. how are the kaylors/gaylors holding out lmao this is a nice story (like an upgraded version of ybwm) but I can’t get over how effectively no-homo this is lmao. the key change? love story wishes. oh the wistfullness to be young......and in looooOOOOoooOOove.

peace: love the guitar in the intro. this gives me another more grown up perspective of a song on melodrama? I love her vocals in this. I feel like i’ve said this about 40 times already but the atmospheric sounds....chef’s kiss. 

hoax: the closer. the LYRICISM bitch. “your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in” shut up :( the bridge is gorgeous. I’m not sure how I feel about it as the closer though, it ties up the themes of the album pretty well but I almost feel peace would’ve been a better closer? still really gorgeous though.

okay. overall thoughts. top 3 albums of taylor’s discography for me along with 1989 and red. It did feel long towards the end though and I still think her problem is editing and streamlining her projects which is why I think 1989 (as her best album for that) and red (while being longer than this has enough songs to break up the album so it’s not monotonous for the listener) rank above this for me at the moment, but that could change. If I were her, I would’ve taken out invisible string and possibly betty and seven to have as deluxe tracks. her lyricism is better on this album than both reputation and lover combined, she really did that in like 4 months. I will need more time with it as I always do with taylor’s projects but it was the album she needed in my opinion. I think part of the reason I disliked lover and to a lesser extent, reputation, was because they didn’t come across as if she needed to write them like her other projects, but more projects she felt she should to write because that was where the narrative of her public image was forcing her to go, this feels like a return to form, even if I would tweak a few things. the visuals for this album have all been great (her best album cover after 1989 imo) and I think it benefitted a lot from going into it with next to no expectations, without a single or anything and I hope she continues to just do whatever, rather than painstakingly plan marketing surrounding an album and just allow her talent to speak for itself. really good. favourite tracks are probably: illicit affairs, the 1, cardigan, epiphany and mirrorball. least favourite are probably: invisible string, seven and maybe betty too. i’d rate it about 8/10 at the moment. also: ****** never dies.

#ruth rambles #taylor swift

[the-cookie-of-doom]

2, 6, 9, 10, 14, 22. Release the salt!!

Gladly >: )

2. Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?

That depends, how popular is Sciles? I could never ship them; Scott treats Stiles like shit throughout the entire show. The one, single time I wrote them being romantically involved was in a super fucked up fic where a very traumatized Stiles was taking advantage of Scott’s desire to help him recover. It wasn’t even a little bit happy; Stiles was seriously screwed up after everything that happened to him, and he knew Scott wasn’t into guys, he was just trying to make him uncomfortable. 

Aside from that, I’m not really into Thiam. Nothing against it, but I prefer Steo xD

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?

Hmmm not sure if there’s one I hated, but fandom has def gotten me into stuff I wasn’t interested in before. I can’t think of any specifics off the top of my head, though. All of my TW ships were pretty much there before I ever watched the show/got into the fandom. I read a ton of fics for like 2 years before finally giving in.

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

Scott. He’s the most useless, hypocritical “hero” I’ve ever seen, and a product of lazy writing through and through. And the sad thing is, I didn’t even care when I first watched the show. I didn’t actively hate him until the Delusional Squad kept trying to bludgeon people into worshiping him, and seeing the various counterarguments for how shitty Scott really is. Now I can’t fucking stand him. 

Aside from him... Allison, maybe? Which sounds terrible. I promise I actually love her, but season 2 Allison?? Total bitch. And it was such a weird path for her character development to take. Like, okay, she’s pissed off, she just found out werewolves are real and one killed her mother, almost killed her best friend, and her boyfriend is one. But to immediately start trying to hunt down her classmates? No. That is totally sociopathic behavior, what the fuck. You don’t get to play Allison as this sensitive sweetheart, and then pull that shit. It’s the inconsistency that really gets me.

Coming back from the next question to say: fuck Monroe. She was a shitty fucking character with the most basic, shallow motivation. They needed a Big Bad for the final season and instead of taking the time to really build someone up, they just decided... what? “Oh, monsters are real, I almost died and this one guy didn’t save me because I was hidden under a pile of bodies, guess it’s time to kill everyone!” Really? And she’s supposed to be a psychologist. 

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

Oops, I basically answered this with the last one xD Allison’s arc infuriates me, and so does Scotts. He doesn’t make any character growth - which would be fine, if the writing reflected that. But it doesn’t. We’re still constantly told that Scott is the Very Best Werewolf Jesus, all the way up to the end, when in reality? He fucking sucks. And oh yeah, he finishes the show be recruiting child soldiers into a war he could’ve prevented, if he just killed Monroe. But no, Werewolf Jesus always has to let the bad guys go, because hey, who cares if they kill people so long as the blood isn’t on his hands.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

Ohhh I’m sure I’ve got plenty. But actually, I’m going to answer this one for TMA because I have way more hot takes in that fandom. Like, I stopped actively participating last year because I was tired of the bulll shit, and didn’t go back into the tags until my spam yesterday. 

Love the show, love the talented people in fandom, but god fuck there are so many cold takes and “Friendly Reminders UwU” and “We Really Need To Talk About This/Thing About Why You Headcanon This”. There’s a ton of purity wank for a horror-tragedy fandom, I stg. And the mob mentality? Fucking disgusting. I’ve never been more ashamed to be part of a fandom that when everyone mobbed Jonny over multiple episodes last year, but Locked In was the worst. He shouldn’t have to come out with his own trauma to justify the subject matter he writes about. That’s a trend that needs to stop across all fandoms; no one is entitled to someone else’s trauma.

22. Popular character you hate?

Actually, I should’ve answered all of these as TMA, my answers would be way more interesting and less predictable xD (except the character arc one, bc there’s not a single arc I didn’t like in TMA. They were all so well written) 

Again, does Scott qualify as popular? I wouldn’t say so, given how much of fandom is Sterek, and how much of us can’t stand him for how he treats Stiles and Derek respectively xD But yeah, let’s go with that lmao. 

And, just to be clear for anyone that may read: this is a salty ask game, not a debate. If you disagree with any of my answers that’s chill, I promise I won’t care, just don’t try to convince me otherwise. 

[bromberryx]

Picnic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You are new to the Avengers team. Steve seems to have his apartment next to yours, you get to know him better at a picnic.

A/N: this is my first fic so please don´t judge. Also, I am not a native Englisch speaker so if there are any mistakes: I´m sorry, feel free to correct me.

Also thinking about making this a series.

By the way i chose the hero-name „The clash“ because I was listening to „Should I stay or should I go“ when starting to write lmao.

Warnings: a tiny bit of fluff, MCU references

Word count: 1,252

******

You were new to the Avengers team and this was supposed to be your first day. Before you got the call from Nick Fury, you were a secret neighborhood hero, same as Peter Parker.

But you didn´t have a Spiderman suit, no, you were just wearing a big black hoodie and a face mask to hide your face. You gave yourself the name „the Clash“, because on your first secret mission you bumped into an old man that was carrying some groceries. You were in the middle of following a thief that stole a very expensive ring from a jewelry shop. You started to pick up his groceries and said I´m sorry for about 13 times. But he just smiled and said No problem, young lady. ´You a superhero?

You smiled, thoughts still on the thief that must have been a mile away already, and said. Uhm, yeah, I think so. He laughed and said Well, well I hope you can still catch the thief, he almost ran into me. My name´s Stan by the way. You nodded and answered, while starting to run again. See you then, Stan, have a nice week. Uhm, I´m „The clash“ by the way.

Thanks! The name fits you just perfectly, young lady.

When you first arrived at the Stark tower, the whole crew welcomed you. You would have never expected to be an Avenger someday, but here you were, at Stark tower with all of the Avengers around you, laughing and welcoming you.

After you quickly introduced yourself, Tony took you with him and turned to show you the kitchen, the gym and your room of course.

This is your room, Y/N. You also might have noticed that you have some neighbors. On your left is Steve´s room and on the right there´s the room of Wanda. You smiled at him while he handed you the key to your room´s door and thanked him for showing you everything.

Oh, and the walls are soundproof by the way, so if you feel the need to listen to music at 2am, go for it.

You chuckled at Tony´s statement and stepped into your little apartment. Tony said goodbye and said you could find him in his office if you needed help.

You threw yourself onto the bed and sighed. Wow, I´m an Avenger now. You thought out loud. After lying there for about ten minutes you started to unpack your suitcase as you peeked a little sheet o paper right in front of the door.

You thought for a moment but you were sure it hasn´t been there when you first stepped into the room. You stood up and grabbed the little sheet.

Hey Y/N, if you need something, lmk. Welcome to the team!

Steve

You smiled. Captain America. You couldn´t believe you would work with him from now on, since you have only seen him on tv yet or heard about him on the news. Meeting him today was a very special thing for you.

As you were finished clearing up all your clothes and memorabilia, you decided to look if Steve´s in his room.

You closed your door behind you as you saw Steve on your right doing the same. You smiled at him.

Hi Steve! Thanks for the note.

Ah, hey Y/N. You´re welcome.

He looked gorgeous. A tight shirt was emphazising his toned upper body. A light beard was adorning his perfectly shaped faced, a smile on his red lips.

Oh, totally forgot about it, Bruce asked if you´d like to go on a picnic.. you know, since it´s your first day here and we want to get to know you better.

Your smile widened. I´d love to!! Shall I bring something? Cookies? I could bake some.

Steve chuckled at your cuteness and your ambition. No, no it´s fine. Nat and Wanda made some chocolate cookies this morning, just for you.

*** later on the way to the park ***

I love the fact that we´re neighbors! Wanda chuckles lightly, putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

Me too! You said, walking by her side, carrying a rucksack full of water bottles.

Steve´s room is also next to yours, right? Have you two talked yet?

Wanda hands you one of the selfmade cookies.

Yes, we did. But our conversation was really short and it was basically about my arrival. You smiled, thinking about Steve and how sweet he was smiling at you before.

The two of you were at the end of a queue of 7 people. The rest of the Avengers didn´t have time to come or just didn´t want to. There was you and Wanda (obviously), Steve, Pepper, Nat, Bruce and Scott.

They were all talking as Bruce, who was at the beginning of the queue turned around and cleared his throat. So.. uhh.. here it is. The Park I mean. I, once again want to welcome our new member: Y/N! We´re so glad you´re here!

Everyone applauded and you turned to sit down when you felt a light touch on your left shoulder.

Mind if I sit with you? Steve asked, grinning.

How could I? You two sat down on one of the big, red blankets Pepper brought.

You began to get the water bottles out of your rucksack and handed them to your teammates.

When you turned to give Scott his bottle, you burst into laughter.

Why are you laughing? Scott asked nervously.

You… I… You couldn´t stop laughing until you finally gasped for air. Your shirt, I.. love it! The rest of the group (staring at you since you started your act of laughing) started peeking to see what the text on Scott´s shirt was saying.

World´s greatest grandma.

***

After a long story of how Scott became „World´s greatest grandma“ you turned to talk to Steve, who smiled at you the whole time, more or less listening to Scott‘s story.

I like your shirt too, even thought it has nothing to do with grandmas. You flirted, a little too obviously.

Steve looked at the ground.

Thanks, honey. But tbh, I´d rather not wear a shirt today, it´s so hot.

Do whatever you´re up to, I wouldn´t blame you. You smirked at Steve.

Hey, sorry to interrupt you, but have you seen my orange slices? I´m pretty sure I brought some.

You turned around in shock.

No, sorry Scott, I didn´t eat them.

Me neither. Steve looked innocent. Scott walked away grumpily.

You know what? Steve waved his hand, a sign for you to come closer. I did eat them.

You looked up into his steel blues eyes, loosing yourself in them for a minute. Your lips turned into a smile. The smell of his light perfume getting into your nose. You were feeling the need to pull him close to you, to pull these perfect lips into a kiss.

What are you thinking, Y/N? This is your first day and you already start catching feelings for a 100 year-old super soldier?!!

You pulled away, reminding yourself of what he said and began to chuckle at the joke.

Steve, Y/N! Come here, we want to take a picture. Nat shouted from a few meters away.

The magic moment was gone, but you hoped that there were more to come in your future as a neighbor of Steve Rogers.

#steve rogers imagine #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #mcu fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu steve rogers #captain america x reader

[bigskydreaming]

TFW you realize you relate more to a fave character than you ever actually consciously realized, lmao. 

So I was just having a remote therapy session, and we were focusing on just some mental pain management techniques since my stupid metabolism makes most pain meds largely useless and my head has been waging all out warfare on me for the past week and a half, lololol. And we were delving into one of my personal fave rants, which is the fact that so many people - including vaunted medical professionals - just fundamentally don’t seem to get that having a high pain tolerance does not mean you don’t like, FEEL pain unless its really a lot or intense. Its just that you’re hard-wired/trained/geared via stuff like an abusive childhood, lol, to not SHOW or DISPLAY any visible or audible pain cues unless the pain reaches a certain high threshold where its impossible to hold them back.

But particularly over the past four or five years, with my ongoing medical shit, its super obnoxious trying to get your doctors to display a sense of urgency about your condition because they’re just fundamentally not grasping the degree of chronic pain you’re dealing with every day, since, y’know....I can literally be sitting there in the doctor’s chair and conversationally talking about the fact that no, I definitely am currently feeling like, an eight or nine out of ten on the pain scale, please don’t be confused by the fact that I’m literally LOLing as I describe this to you rather than gasping and moaning in a more obvious indication of it. 

Its like, I’m not TRYING to undersell it or anything, its just, when you grow up since the time you’re like five or six years old, knowing damn well that the only appropriate response to someone asking ‘oh am I hurting you’ that won’t earn you MORE pain is a completely casual or cavalier sounding ‘nope, I’m fine, all good here, no problems.’......like, at a certain point in your development, that becomes pretty hard-wired in, like, you can’t shake it just because you consciously WANT to. (Though it is one of the things I’m trying to unlearn and ‘rewire’ in therapy now, via EMDR techniques aimed at like, literally reprogramming my nervous system and how I react to various stimuli. Its.....slow progress, lmao, but I mean there is some progress so its all good).

But point being, when you’re a physically abused kid and your physical abuser doesn’t want to believe or accept that they’re hurting you, and so they tended to just get angrier and MORE dangerous if they thought you were indicating or even just ‘implying’ that they were in fact hurting you.....you get pretty damn good at not showing even the slightest hint of pain or distress unless its literally a level you’ve never experienced before and thus have no practical experience in hiding or distracting yourself from.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t FEEL every bit of it. It doesn’t mean you’ve found a magical off-switch that means you can just mind-over-body yourself from acknowledging or being aware that you are in fact in a shit ton of pain. You just.....have learned the importance of masking it, and found ways to do that by necessity.

Except, even much later in life when you are in a safe place or more control of your situations or surroundings, there’s no easy way to just....stop putting that mask on by default, the second you’re experiencing any type of pain. And so even when dealing with medical professionals, too many of them just don’t GET that their vaunted ‘tell me how much pain you’re in from one to ten’ scale isn’t really the be-all and end-all of pain measurement, because its subjective and arbitrary as HELLLLLLLLL.....and one of the defining parameters for what that pain scale looks like and feels like for YOU, is....your personal history with pain and how you’re ‘comfortable’ displaying evidence of it. (And I know there’s a ton of people and even groups of people who can relate to this for entirely different reasons, I just can only speak to my own of course). 

But its definitely frustrating and invalidating as hell to be in more pain than many people ever experience in their lives, and TRYING to convey that as openly and honestly as you can.....and literally being able to SEE the doubt and dismissal in doctors’ eyes, because all they’re seeing is the visual cues you’re putting out there and which they equate to ‘can’t possibly be in THAT much pain, not if he’s acting this casual about it’.....

And so the frustrating irony is that you end up dismissed as like, a pain ‘lightweight’ who is complaining about an apparent degree of pain that’s barely anything in their ‘professional’ estimation. And thus they’re disinclined to take your requests for heavier or more effective pain medication seriously, or not impressed by your attempts to imbue a greater sense of urgency in their approach to your treatment plan or procedures, etc......when in reality, the only reason you’re showing those cues of not being in that much pain is because you’re MORE used to and familiar with even extremely high degrees of pain than anything a lot of them are accustomed to.

Its invalidating as hell, being treated as though you have no idea what you’re talking about when you say “I am actually in a shit ton of active, ongoing pain, hey thanks, can we maybe do something about this,” when actually, the disconnect comes from you having MORE experience with MORE pain than some of them can even fathom. You just....also have more experience with reasons not to SHOW that pain, if its at all avoidable to any degree whatsoever.

THAT’S what high pain tolerance actually means, and the sheer volume of medical professionals who just flat out don’t get this, or worse, just don’t care or are too proud to reassess their viewpoints on this matter if that carries the implication they don’t actually know as much as they think they do......god, it grates.

(Once, when I was around twenty-three or twenty-four I think, I got caught up in the periphery of a bar fight that resulted in me getting a shard of glass embedded in the back of my forearm. Still have a pretty sizable scar from it. And it absolutely hurt like fuck, but I was conscious as paramedics arrived on scene and when going to the hospital to have it removed and stitched up, and like......kinda cracking jokes about it the whole time because I was uncomfortable as hell and didn’t really know what else to do or how to react, y’know? I mean, I had a few inches of glasses jutting out from the top of my forearm, lol, what the hell are you supposed to do or say about that? There’s not really a protocol, lmao. Problem was, they took one look at me sitting there with this spear of glass sticking out of my arm and making dumb jokes about it like it was no big deal......and they decided this meant I was in shock and kept trying to treat me accordingly. And it was just like.....useless, because lol no I wasn’t in shock, I had none of the physical symptoms of being in shock and benefited from none of their assumptions that I was.....I was just a dude with a shard of glass in his arm that hurt like fuck and I really wanted it out as soon as possible, and I was in full awareness of what had happened and everything I was feeling, I just didn’t know how to convey this in a way that they would believe, because I couldn’t come up with anything to say or do other than laugh about how fucking surreal the whole situation was.)

Anyway, so circling back to the point, or as much of one as I ever have, so today I was just learning and practicing various mental pain management/coping techniques with my therapist and discussing my issues with doctors and the High Pain Tolerance Quandary. Basically like, I would really truly like to know or learn how to display the ‘expected’ physical and visual/audio cues for being a person who is experiencing a ‘4′ on the pain scale, versus a person who is experiencing a ‘7′ or a ‘10′.....so they can stop fucking treating me like I’m only at a 4 when I’m actually at an 8 or 9, just because I look and sound like a person who really is only at a 4 no matter what they actually CLAIM to be feeling.

Course, easier said than done.

But yeah, so as she was coaching me through various techniques and surveying what I was doing with my body and facial expressions and cues, etc, she pointed out something that I had literally never noticed about myself before, even though once she DID point it out I could recognize that its something I’ve been doing for as long as I can remember, well back before I was ten and no doubt stemming from smack dab in the midst of the worst of my childhood abuse.

So, y’know on Teen Wolf, how Scott and Liam and various others are at times shown digging their claws into their palms and drawing blood to ground themselves with the pain? (And ironically, how I was just talking the other week about photo doubling for a similar such scene with gashes in the character’s palms, lmfao). Well, obviously I don’t have claws, and part of why I’d never really paid much attention to when I was doing it is because even my therapist wasn’t comfortable classifying it as a kind of self-harm or anywhere near punitive enough to carry that kind of weight or associations.....

But like, I’ve always kept my fingernails fairly trimmed but not completely. Like, just enough of an edge to them that at times, particularly when I’m in physical pain or distress already, I’ll just like....dig my fingernails into the pad of other fingertips, and use that little familiar spike of pain to not ground myself but rather distract myself from whatever else I was feeling. Like, she wasn’t comfortable calling it a self-punitive technique because as we got into it, it was clear I was never doing it to CAUSE myself pain....rather, its something I only do when I’m already in pain, usually far more pain than anything that brings up.....but by deliberately doing that and creating a focal awareness around it, even just a largely subconscious one......I’ve apparently long been using that to hook my attention up to a very specific, very manageable sensation/focal point of pain that lets me and my ADHD brain relegate whatever other pain I’m feeling (even if its much much worse) to the back of my mind for at least a little while, as I distract myself by focusing on this more obvious and consciously directed bit of lesser pain. 

And a big part of why I probably never noticed I was doing this, we eventually concluded, is because as a kid I probably came up with it as a kind of survival technique specifically BECAUSE it was something I could do to distract myself/manage my pain covertly, without drawing my abuser’s attention to what I was doing either. And by extension, without the fact that I was doing it at all 'betraying’ that I was in pain or trying to manage or cope with painful sensations in the first place. A lot of other pain management techniques, like even just deep, deliberate breaths, tend to be a lot more obvious and noticeable, and thus would have been counter-productive for my specific purposes. No matter how much they helped me manage whatever physical pain I was feeling, they would have at the same time inevitably drawn attention to the fact that I was trying to do that at all in the first place....and thus only invite more pain. 

Merely digging my fingernails into my fingertip pads, not enough to draw blood or make me cry out or anything like that, but rather just to distract myself and deliberately focus me on a source of pain I could deal with and more easily handle, as well as being ‘low in intensity’ enough that focusing on it didn’t bring any other obvious visual or audio pain cues to the forefront.....that I could do without anyone noticing. And thus this is likely why it came to be my go-to move whenever I was in any kind of pain at all, as just a quick and easy way to wrap my head around my physical sensations and shift focus to something more easily dealt with or managed (even if it didn’t actually dismiss or get rid of whatever other pain I’m feeling entirely). And just the low-key nature of it in general likely being a big part of why it became such an unconscious instinct for me until now, something that barely even registered in my conscious mind as I built up/hard-wired instinctive responses that incorporated it without me having to consciously direct myself to do that.

I mean, its still obviously not an ideal response, especially when I’m long past being stuck in any kind of external situations or need to fall back on that and the covert nature of it. So now its another of those things to just be aware of and work on rewiring on an instinctive level, making it a priority for me to focus on consciously using more helpful and positive methods of pain management.

But it was just interesting to me to have it pointed out as something I’ve been doing all this time, let alone being as unaware of doing it as I’ve apparently been. And its not hard to draw obvious parallels to when characters in media I consume do similar things even if for not quite the same reasons or in quite the same ways. So now I’m just kinda contemplating that and wondering how much even just some degree of unconscious awareness that I do that might have made me more alert to when characters or other people do similar things. Made me more attuned to noticing or even fixating on moments when they do things like that, that I related to even on an entirely subconscious level.

*Shrugs* Anyway, that’s all, like, literally not going anywhere with this, was just unwinding and felt like mapping my way through that all contemplatively, because oh no, inexplicable strangeness, therapy puts me in particularly contemplative headspaces, whodathunkit, lmfao. *Shrugs* Just struck me as particularly interesting, so felt like sharing for anyone else who can relate/see similar parallels themselves.

Or just chalk it up to random anecdotal wtf-ery from your friendly (err, mostly. okay sometimes. FINE ideally, let’s go with that) neighborhood over-sharer. 

#that last bit is just to head off the usual 'friendly concerned advice giving anons' I tend to get after posts like these #plz stop doing that #i know i over-share its not a secret and I do it with full knowledge and intent because I feel like it #it suits my purposes #my purposes do not have to be your purposes nor do they require your approval #if it makes you uncomfortable thats where the beauty of tumblr being a largely opt-in experience comes from #there's the door #i can understand the confusion - its not actually a big blinking EXIT sign but rather an 'unfollow' button #its really that simple lmfao stop being so concerned with what Im doing particularly in posts where Im not even interacting with anyone #and for the love of god please stop assuming that everyone on tumblr is TRYING to post from a state of being on #an emotional plateau of zen #nah - some of us literally use the medium to vent and unpack stuff we dont have a ton of room to vent about or unpack in our offline lives #and like the relative(ish) anonymous nature of it combined with the potential for at least some kind of validation via #like-minded or experiencing individuals in a pseudo-communal setting #our purpose/usage does not need to be yours and it does not require your condoning #and I would just like to suggest that maybe people who put a ton of emphasis on telling others (like survivors) to do a better job of #curating what content they experience/are exposed to online #might be well served to put a little more focus on curating what content YOU experience if you find yourself uncomfortable with particular #posting habits #there's a bajillion other people out there to follow #you dont need to be here if you dont actually want to be or arent actually comfortable being here #BUT I DIGRESS

[raysofcrosby]

WHEN YOU’RE READY PT. 3

𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 (𝘹)

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥: yes and no

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴): umm i don’t think much, probs just some swearing :)

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 5,664

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: oof this took a long time to finish up. sorry about that. but anywho, if you haven’t read parts 1 and two, read them here and here!  tbh i was planning on making this a 4-part imagine, but i really like the way that this part ended–– so this is the end lmao. ummm ya, so anyway, sorry it took so long, i hope you enjoy and don’t forget to request! :) ok bye!

The first thing you noticed when you woke up the next morning was the ache in your head and body. Carter was lucky he was cute and that this was by far your weakest hangover, or else he'd have another thing coming. The second thing you noticed...was that you woke up in an empty bed. A lot of alcohol was consumed last night, but you were positive that you hadn't drunk enough for you to have imagined falling asleep next to Nolan. Or that you kissed him and he kissed you back before well...turning you down in the nicest way possible.

The third thing? You were lying in the middle of the bed...full-on spread eagle. 

"Oh shit, he was right," You groaned, rolling over onto your back and staring a the ceiling and grabbing the pillow next to you. "Oh God, I kissed Nolan." You pressed the pillow against your face, hoping that the lack of air would wake you up from this nightmare. But when your lungs started to burn, you tossed the pillow aside and sat up.

You weren't dreaming at all. You had kissed Nolan, your best friend since practically the womb. You tossed the blankets off of you and got out of his bed, racking your brain for any details of last night as you made your way into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you reached inside and grabbed a snack-size pack of watermelon and a bottle of water, closing the fridge and walking towards the counter. Waking up in his bed and with him gone felt, to you, like a miserably failed and backward one-night stand. In normal ways, you were supposed to be the one leaving him in the early morning hours and going on with your day. But no, you lived here... with him and now you're just hoping that things wouldn't be awkward between the two of you. Though, there was always the couch.

You chewed on a small piece of watermelon as your phone lit up to see a text from Ryanne. You finished off the piece of watermelon when your eyes caught notice of what your phone was lying on top of. It was a note from Nolan.

Y/N,

At morning skate, be back soon (prob 11:30/12.) Let's grab lunch and talk a bit before tonight.

– Nol

Your eyes drifted lower to see Travis, a little neater than Nolan's, handwriting at the bottom of the page

P.S.

Don't touch my watermelon, you already stole my last parfait (ya dick.)

– Teeks

You looked down at the watermelon in front of you, swearing in your mind up and down that you had bought two of them. Taking another piece of watermelon, you picked up your phone and opened Ryanne's text

From Ryanne:

If you're not too hungover, would you want to get some lunch and maybe come shopping with me? Need some girl time, C is driving me nuts and I need to relax before the game tonight.

Ugh yes, as per usual Ryanne is there to save the day.

To Ryanne:

I'm so down! I need to get out of the apartment before the two terrors come back. How soon can you get here?

From Ryanne:

I can be there in 10 and you better spill the deets.

To Ryanne:

Of course xx

You locked your phone to see that it was almost 11 and Ryanne's arrival would be cutting it close for you to be able to avoid Nolan and Travis and the conversations you'd probably be having with the both of them. Not taking what little time you had for granted, you rushed to Nolan's bathroom and started to rush through your routine. You grabbed your toothbrush and toothpaste and took them into the shower with you, knocking two steps out in one. Though you knew you'd probably be regretting not leaving the conditioner in your hair for longer than you had, you practically ran out of the bathroom and down the hall back into Nolan's room...your towel no doubt nearly falling off of you.

You ruffled through the three drawers Nolan had let you take over and grabbed a quick and easy outfit– some jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt and a crumpled up sweatshirt off of the bed. You took your brush off of the dresser and ran in through your hair, trying not to struggle too much with the tangled bits. When you put it down, your phone started to ring. Rushing over, you picked it up and exhaled, glad to see that it was Ryanne. Sliding your thumb across the screen, you answered it. "Hey, you here?"

"Just downstairs. I think I might have passed Travis and Nolan getting ready to pull out of the arena parking lot on my way here. Did you want to wait and invi–"

"NO!" You yelled, balancing the phone between your cheek and neck as you grabbed your purse off of the floor and rushed out of the bedroom. "Sorry, I just...I'll be right down."

You hung up the phone, making sure you had your copy of the apartment key before locking it behind you and walking down the hallway. Not wanting to waste any time, you opt for taking the stairs instead of the elevator and if running down those steps didn't knock the breath out of you, the harsh cold air hitting you in the face the moment you stepped outside...sure did. You looked in the parking lot for Ryanne's car and spotted it just as she honked her horn three times.

Jogging over, you opened the passenger side door and got in, closing it behind you. "Drive, please."

"Jesus what crime did you commit?" She joked, putting the car into drive as she pulled out of their apartment complex. "Oh look, it's Nolan and Travis."

You sunk into your seat slightly, still obviously in view and tapped her thigh. "Drive, drive, drive, I beg you."

She looked at you with raised eyebrows before smiling. "Something happened between you and Nolan last night, didn't it?"

"Ryanne..."

"OOh, Claude so owes me $10." She smiled, turning on her blinker and turning out of the complex. "And you better believe you're going to tell me every single detail."                                             

                                                                 –-

"Wait...that's it? You guys just kissed?" She asked, bringing the hot chocolate up to her frowned lips. "No hot and heavy make-out session? Not even a little heavy petting?"

You picked at the number given to you by the cashier at the counter and rolled your eyes. "No, Ryanne. No heavy petting."

"Well I can't say that I'm not disappointed, but it is a good thing." She nodded down at her hidden bump and shot you a mischievous smile. "That's how this little one happened."

"Oh God, please don't go into detail. I'd like to be able to look Claude in the eyes again."

Ryanne just rolled her eyes as she took another sip of her drink. "Oh please, it's not like you've got virgin ears. Now explain to me why you were going all spy-like when we saw Travis and Nolan."

"I just told you–"

"No, you told me that you had a little heart to heart about whats-his-face and then you planted one on our favorite rosy-cheek boy. Nowhere in there did I hear a denial of his feelings."

You sighed and picked at your blueberry muffin wrapper. She had a point. There was no reason for you to run from Nolan like that, not a logical one anyway. "I just...don't want to be embarrassed, I guess?"

"Explain."

"I woke up and found a note on the counter from Nolan saying he wanted to talk when they got home from morning skate." You leaned back into your seat, taking a piece of your muffin with you. "And normally, 'we need to talk' isn't a positive thing. So I just freaked out, I guess."

Ryanne nodded her head as if she understood what you were saying. And maybe she did. Her and Claude had been dating long before you met the two of them. Dating or even being involved with an NHL player was brand new territory to you, one that she'd know how to navigate. But could it be the same thing as dating your best friend too?

"Please stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

You sighed and chewed on your muffin as you shook your head. Following the muffin down with some hot chocolate you rested your elbows on the table. "Like I'm some scared girl who's running from something possibly good for her because she doesn't want to get hurt again after being burned in a previous relationship."

Bringing her cup up to her lips, she smirked and nodded her head to the slight. "You said it, not me." After taking a sip, she leaned her elbows onto the table and looked at you. "But in all seriousness, are you just going to avoid him and pretend like nothing ever happened?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, considering her suggestion. "I mean, it'd be kind of hard to do that since I live with him and sleep in his bed."

She raised an eyebrow, "and?"

You groaned and rested your head in your hands. "And I really liked the kiss and wouldn't mind doing it again. Which is so weird because he's Nolan, my best friend."

"He's also the guy who managed to rock your world with a single kiss. Now imagine what he could do if there was some heavy petting and–"

Your ringtone cut her off and while you were silently praying to whatever universal magic there was, you were also panicking about who it could be that was calling you. Grabbing the phone out of your purse, you turned it over to see the same number from the clinic that had called you last night. "Hold on, a sec." You pressed the accept button and took a deep breath before bringing the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Y/N L/N?" A voice that definitely wasn't Dr. Pippen, asked.

Your heart began to race. What if this was a different Doctor who was in charge of treatment for whatever venereal disease Preston had given you. "This is her."

"Hi Y/N, I'm Dr. Scott, I work here with Dr. Pippen, who called you yesterday with some test results."

 "Yes sir, he did call me yesterday. I'm supposed to receive the results for some more tests today."

Some shuffling of paper in the background only made you more nervous as Ryanne placed her hand on top of yours for comfort. "Well he's not in the office today, so I'm calling to give you your results." More shuffling of the paper only intensified the suspense before he cleared his throat. "Your HIV, Syphilis and Hepatitis B results all came back negative."

You sink down into your seat in relief as the weight on your shoulders lifted. "Oh Thank God."

"Is there anything else you need, Miss L/N?"

"No, no sir nothing else."

"Alright, well you have a good afternoon, and if you need any information on contraceptives and STD testing, we have pamphlets available at the clinic."

You felt your cheeks burn as his suggestion burned the image of Nolan sitting in the living room reading all of the pamphlets. Pamphlets he didn't have to grab but wanted to because he wanted to be able to help you and be by your side in case your results went the other direction. "Yes, thank you, Doctor."

You hang up the phone and looked at Ryanne whose eyes were wide. "So does this call for a little celebratory shopping?" She smiled, patting your hand.

You look back down at your phone to see text messages that must have come through during your call.

From Nol:

hey where are you? want to grab some lunch before pregame nap?

From Nol:

also has the doc called yet? what are the results? you're supposed to get them today, right?

From Teeks

you ate my fucking watermelon. didn't you get my note?

From Teeks:

i'm eating your leftover mac and cheese. consider us even.

You locked your phone again and shoved it into your purse, looking back up at Ryanne. "Any chance this shopping will last us till the guys have to be at the arena?"

She sighed and shook her head. "You're going to need to confront him at some point Y/N," standing up and downing the rest of the hot chocolate Ryanne tipped her cup to you with a smile, "but of course it can."

                                                 –––––––

The retail therapy with Ryanne was more than what you needed. 30 minutes into your second store, Target of all places, you felt happy. Ryanne went on and on about how the two of you needed to come shopping more often, especially since you had picked the cutest outfits for their soon to be, bundle of joy. Of course, you agreed to. Besides the few co-workers you had that were around your age, Nolan, and Travis...Ryanne was your closest friend.

When you got back to the apartment, it was empty and that alone was a relief. Your note from this morning was still sitting on top of the kitchen counter, only this time there was an additional one on top of it.

Y/N,

Check the bed for a surprise from 'the girls'. See you at the game tonight.

- Nol

p.s. you owe me watermelon. 

- Teeks

You couldn't help the way that your cheeks reddened and your heart rate sped up when you read that sentence in Nolan's handwriting. At first, you thought that maybe he had bought you something. Until you realized that, 'the girls' was no way Nolan would refer to himself as. Unless he enlisted the help of some of the fellow WAGs to get you something. You rolled your eyes at Travis's side note and made your way back into Nolan's bedroom. On the bed was a dark gray jean jacket with flyers patches on the upper parts of each sleeve. It looked pretty straight forward, no excessive designs on it– not the usual playoffs jacket you'd normally seen.

The moment you flipped it over, your heart dropped into your stomach. On the upper back was a patch that said 'Patrick' and right in the middle were big, bold numbers '19.' Flipping it back over, it was then you noticed the small '19' on the right breastplate.

This was a WAG jacket...for Nolan....for you.

You dropped it onto the bed and quickly got out your phone, calling Ryanne. "Hello?"

"Why am I staring at a jacket with Nolan's last name on it, right now?"

"Yay! They must have came in at practice today. Crystal said she'd bring them and give each of them to the guys to take home. Put it on, does it fit?"

"Ryanne. Why–"

"Oh shoot, I guess that means we're wearing them tonight, which totally screws up that outfit." A short pause took over before she gasped. "Unless you don't wear that tank under the sweater! Ooh, which I bet will accentuate your boobs even more for Nolan to–"

"WHY?" You didn't realize just how loud you had yelled into the phone until Ryanne's side of the call was completely silent. "Sorry Ryanne, I just...I'm really confused."

"Be ready in 15. I'm coming to get you. And Y/N, you better wear that outfit and that jacket."

With a quick click of the phone, Ryanne had ended your call. You sighed and put your phone back into your purse before looking at the jacket and then dumping your shopping bag contents onto the bed next to it.

Of course, you couldn't have let the shopping trip without Ryanne insisting that you buy a new outfit for the 'new and improved, y/n' as she put it. An outfit she solely picked out herself and claimed that her inspiration and end goal was, of course, something that would snatch Nolan's attention.

You tugged at the bottom of the one size too small sweater, wishing that it could stay tucked into your jeans as you planned it too. It wasn't until you realized just how much it accentuated your chest that you realized just how Ryanne planned for you to grab Nolan's attention. Deep breathing did the trick of keeping your calm. It is, of course, very bad to upset or be upset at a pregnant woman.

"Can someone please explain to me why we're wearing the jackets? It's not even playoffs yet." You groaned, adjusting your sweater beneath the decorated jean jacket given out amongst the wives. "And why I even have one? I'm not dating Nolan."

"Oh sweetie, maybe not officially. But we all know that the two of you might as well be dating." Crystal, Simmonds wife smiled, wiggling her eyebrows.

You sunk further down into your seat and bringing your beer up to your lips. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do," Ryanne sang, smiling and looping her arm through your free one. "I think we're already planning your first date. I mean, if there's anyone who can push Nolan into finally asking you out it'll be Claude and Wayne. Those two are you biggest supporters, I swear."

You took a sip of your beer as you tried to hide your blushing face away from them. "There's nothing to support. We're just friends."

"Friends who had a PG-13 make-out session."

Crystal gasped and leaned over, holding onto my knee. "You and Nolan kissed? Uhm, when?"

"Last night. The party was still going on and they both wanted to go to bed, so Y/N offered Nolan a spot to share and one," Ryanne held up her index finger, "he agreed without a second of hesitation. two," another finger, " they had a huge heart to heart and three," she went to hold up a third finger when you brought her hand down.

"I kissed him, he kissed me back and then pushed me away and said, 'yeah I'd like to do this, but not now. sorry for rejecting you."

Ryanne shoved your hand off of hers and glared. "That's not what he said," she looked back at Crystal with hopeful eyes. "He said, that he wanted to kiss her and you know. But not in the middle of a party and he's been wanting to talk to her all day, but she's been avoiding him."

Crystal looked at you with proud eyes and squeezed your knee. "I feel like a proud parent right now! I've been waiting for you two to get together since you arrived in Philly. Now how was it, the kiss?"

You blushed again, taking another sip of your beer...only this one was a lot longer. "It was pretty great."

"What was that?" Ryanne smiled, cupping her ear. "Did I just hear the Y/N L/N admit that kissing her best friend was, in fact, great?"

"Oh shut up," you laughed, swatting at her. "You're lucky that you're pregnant or I'd dive-bomb you."

"Speak of the devil, here comes your man," Crystal smiled, nodding her head as the boys were coming back onto the ice for the third and final period.

The game had been a tough and brutal one. Yet again, they were playing the Pens and it was a pretty heated rivalry. Nolan had been checked into the boards more times than you could count...or want to see. It was weird, before this whole thing about your feelings with Nolan, you never had any problem seeing Nolan getting checked. You knew he was a tough guy and would probably get his redemption later on in the game. However, this game he'd spent most of his time chirping with anyone who would even dare to look in his direction, particularly number 59– Guentzel, his jersey read. And every time he got checked, you could feel yourself wince and then hope that he was okay.

"Come on, come on stand up! We have to cheer with everyone else!" Ryanne smiled as she and Crystal both tugged on your arms to get you standing with the crowd. Normally, the WAGs all sat up in a box, especially with a game as big as this one. But for some, strange and odd reason, the families and WAGs were sitting in a lower section, 5 to 6 rows up from the ice.

"Wooo! Go Flyers!" You cheered, clapping your hands together as the starters for the period stood on the ice. You watched as Nolan skated his last lap, looking at you with a smile before going off the ice to wait until his shift.

"Did you see that?" Crystal asked, looking at Ryanne. "I think he was checking Y/N out."

"Maybe he was checking out her chest. I didn't pick this sweater a size too small for nothing."

"I hate both of you." You grumbled, pulling the jacket tight over your chest and sitting down as the third period started.

You kept the jacket tight over your chest as you watched the game, keeping an eye out for your two roommates. When the play stopped and you saw Nolan come out for his shift, you sat up a little more on the edge of your seat, earning knowing smiles from Crystal and Ryanne.

"He's so feisty tonight. He hasn't stopped chirping 59 since their first shift." Ryanne said, perching up a little to see. "Like look at him, he looks pissed."

Just then, 59 skated closer to Nolan on the line and said something that pissed him off because the moment the ref dropped the puck, Nolan shoved the player. 59 dropped his gloves and skated at Nolan who followed suit. 

"Uh...I'd say he's a little more than just pissed." Crystal said, standing up as the crowd around us roared.

You couldn't get yourself to look away from the sight of the two boys fighting. Nolan had a fistfull of 59's jersey and was throwing punches at him every chance he got. 59 got a few licks in, that was evident the moment Nolan lost his grip on the jersey. 59 went to grab the back of Nolan's jersey and tried to pull it over his head and lock him in. Nolan, the sneaky player he is, snaked an arm out of the sleeve and continued to throw wild and blinded punches, still getting a few licks in until the two of them fell to the ice.

The crowd around us roared into cheers and screams as the people sitting on the glass beat against it with fervor. You stared with tunnel vision, laser-focused on Nolan as you watched him tear off half of his jersey and not bother to pick up the equipment he lost on the ice before stumbling back towards the locker room with a trainer fast behind him. You could feel the adrenaline from watching his fight mix with the worry your heart was beginning to feel, making a combination that left you feeling all sorts of lost.

Never in all of the years of watching Nolan play hockey, did you ever feel the need to know if he was okay after taking a hit or getting into a fight. Normally, you'd think nothing of it and wait until the end of the game for him to walk out with some makeshift bag of ice taped to a limb all while giving him a few chirps of your own. But now, you wanted nothing more than to run out of your seat and find your way through the corridor and into the training room, needing to know what happened.

"Y/N?" Ryanne waved a hand in front of your face and you shook your head, looking at her. "You zoned out, are you okay?"

"I just..." you looked back out towards the ice as the ice girls worked on scraping the blood off of the ice. "Whose blood is that?"

Crystal looked up from her phone and at you. "Nolan asked for you."

"What?"

She held up her phone to see a text from Wayne. "Wayne's in the training room getting P.T. and said Nolan mentioned you. Do you want to go down?"

"Nolan wants me down there?" 

"Sounds like it girl." Ryanne smiled, nudging you.

You stood up from your seat slowly and nodded your head. "Okay, okay yeah uh, I'll be right back."

You left your beer in your cupholder and made your way up the section steps. On your entire walk down to the corridor and trainers room, you couldn't help but replay the fight in your head. Did Nolan do as well as you thought he did? How many hits did 59 get in? Were they quality ones? With each thought, you tugged your jacket against you tighter and tighter. And just as you came to a stop in front of the training room door, you realized that you weren't pulling it against you because you felt exposed, but because it made you feel safe.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you were about to see. A few deep breaths later, you opened your eyes and pushed open the training room door. When you walked in, Nolan was hunched over on one of the tables, his jersey off and his head hanging down as he held a towel to his face. He looked up to see who was at the door and when he made eye contact with you, his eyebrows furrowed and then his mouth opened, only to close again as if he couldn't find the words to say.

You ran over to him and held onto his shoulders, looking over him to make sure his injuries weren't too severe. Your hands then wrapped around his back and you hugged him tightly, not caring if you got any blood on you. When you pulled away, you sighed, looking at the damage done to his face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just some stitches on my head and then something for my nose. Cliff says I should be able to go back out once he gets the blood out of my jersey."

You let out a sigh of relief and then the images of him fighting 59 took over. In a quick moment, you smacked his padded shoulder and glared at him. "What the hell, Nolan?"

“Um, OW? That actually kind of hurt, Y/N."

"What the hell do you think you're doing fighting that guy? Since when did you become a fighter?"

"Why do you care? You've been avoiding me all day. You never even told me the results for your doctors' appointment." He put more pressure on the towel as he looked away from you, only to look back at you with a gleam in his eyes. "Wait a second...are you worried about me?"

His truthful accusation set you back. Of course, you were worried about him, he's your best friend! "One, you don't know that I've been avoiding you all day, and two, you're my best friend. So excuse me if I don't want to see you get your face smashed in by some dude you’ve been exchanging petty middle school glares at all game."

A cocky smirk took over his face as she brought the towel off of his face, revealing the damage done. A nasty head laceration just by his left eye and a bloody nose. "You've never been worried before. You haven't even snuck in one of your infamous chirps yet."

You could feel yourself getting frustrated because he was right. But now didn't feel like the best time to admit your feelings for him. Or maybe it was. "I hate you, you know."

"For?"

"Being right," you sighed and walked closer, standing directly in front of him. "I have been avoiding you all day. because...well, it felt like you kind of rejected me after our...kiss last night."

You shrugged your shoulders and looked away from him. "And I guess I'm just really embarrassed about it and didn't want to face you this morning. But now I'm wearing a WAG jacket with your name on it, Ryanne and Crystal are in my mind saying how much they like us together, and we're not even dating! Not to mention, for the first time since I've ever watched you playing hockey, I found myself worried sick about you."

"You were?" He whispered, almost in shock himself as if he hadn't known my feelings since last night.

"Yeah," tugging the jacket against you tightly again, you looked at him. "Every check into the boards made my stomach twist into knots. And then when you started fighting with 59 I just...I don't know."

The silence between you two was overbearing and you couldn't help but wish that Cliff would come back with Nolan's blood-free jersey any second now.

"He said something," You looked up to see Nolan removing the towel from his face. "Guentzel. He said something...about you. We'd been chirping all night, stupid shit here and there. But then that last second right before the shift, he must've noticed the jacket or something...because he'd love to have his way with you and I just snapped."

He fought to protect you. It wasn't from the pure frustration of the game and rivalry, but the chirping had turned to you being the subject and Nolan wasn't having any of it. "Nolan?" He looked back up from his towel, the swelling starting to settle in. "Do you like me?"

He laughed and shook his head, bringing the towel back up as he looked at you. "Isn't it obvious, Y/N?"

"Obviously not, since your teammates and their wives all want us together and yet I've never known about your feelings for me. So please Nolan, tell me. Don't give me a subtle hint or a stupid, crooked smile...just, say the words."

"Y/N," he dropped the towel next to him and reached out, grabbing both of your hands. "I love you. I've loved you since we were like 10-years-old and I'm an idiot for taking so long to finally act on my feelings and do something about it, but I just–"

You leaned forward, carefully cradling his face in your hands before pressing your lips to his. A simple kiss that sent electric shocks to the tips of your toes. You pulled your lips from him, keeping your eyes closed and your vicinity close as you tried to catch the breath that the small kiss had knocked out of your lungs. Opening your eyes to see Nolan looking at you, you smiled and brushed your thumb along his right temple. "I love you too."

He smiled and cupped the right side of your face and on instinct, you leaned into his touch as if you'd known it all of your life and were finally letting your heart accept what you'd been missing out on for so long. Nolan wrapped an arm around your waist and held you tight before pressing another kiss to your mouth, this one more feverish and hungry than the one the night before.

"Alright Nolan, let's just stitch you up and– Oh!"

Embarrassed, you stepped away from Nolan and turned to see Cliff standing there with Nolan's jersey in his hand. "Sorry, Cliff." 

He just smiled and shook his head, placing Nolan's jersey down on another table. "I'm gonna go get the stitch kit, I'll be right back."

Nolan kept his grip tight around you as Cliff left the room again and he pulled you back, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "So, does this mean if I ask...you'll go on a date with me?"

You brushed your fingers along his jawline, smiling down at him. "Hm, if I say yes, what do I get?"

"A night away from Travis, your favorite dessert and lots of kissing," he mumbled, pressing a kiss alongside your jaw.

"No surprise visits to any clinics?"

He raised his eyebrows and took in your smile. "Negative?"

"All three."

He pulled you into him and hugged you tight as he pressed another kiss to your temple. "Change of plans. If you say yes, we're kicking Travis out of the apartment and onto Hartsy's couch, ordering in your favorite food and then christening every surface we can find."

"So, that also includes a new roommate and endless amounts of cuddles?"

"Sure thing, spread eagle." He laughed, kissing you again before pulling back moments later. "Wait, new roommate?"

"You, dummy." You smiled down at him and then a thought dawned on you. "So uh, who's going to tell our parents the news?"

"More like who won the bet."

"There was a bet?"

"Oh Y/N, there's been a bet ever since the joint sex talk featuring my mom's fresh produce," he cringed, pulling you into him again. "At least we'll never have to sit through one of those again."

"Until they start asking us about grandkids."

You both burst into a fit of laughter as Cliff came back into the room, a stitch kit in his hand. You pressed a kiss to Nolan's temple as he squeezed your hand. "Are you heading back out there, Y/N?" Cliff asked, sitting down on a stool.

"Yeah, someone's got to make sure Ryanne doesn't go all crazy pregnant lady on some fans," You laughed, nodding at him. "You take care of our boy, Cliff."

"Always do, no matter what the punk says."

You laughed and walked towards the training room door, opening it and getting ready to walk out. "Has anyone told you how hot you look in that jacket?"

You turned to see Nolan, not even wincing as Cliff did the first stitch on this cut. "Eh, only this one guy. Long hair, pretty eyes, can't seem to grow a beard. Does he sound familiar?"

Nolan rolled his eyes and then a serious look fell over his smiling expression. "Will I see you out there?"

You winked at him and smiled. "Always, Nol. Always."

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