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harveyb-wabbit92 · 2 years

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[Y/n and the Twins are thrown into the Nimbasa PD holding cell after an incident at one of the casinos, where a woman rushed passed them almost knocking Y/n down.

the woman drops her bag in the process and Emmet picks the bag up calling out to the woman, only for a scary amount of alcohol & poker chips to fall out of the bag! Next thing they know, Y/n and the twins are surrounded by security and hauled off to jail for suspicion of robbery.

The police chief believes that they’re innocent, but until they can get the footage from the casino the three are stuck there. While moping about this the chief’s wife comes in and while hugging her husband the wife looks at the guard standing in front of Y/n and the Twins cell.

With bedroom eyes she blows him a kiss and winks, Ingo looks on with a grimace while Y/n and Emmet’s jaws drop at boldness of the wife. Their Guard smirks gives the wife a wink and a nod than stands up a bit straighter when the Chief, whose completely unaware turns to look at the stunned detainees and assures them they’ll be out soon.

Cut to an hour later The roommates are watching their guard and the chief’s wife vigorously making out in full view of their cell.]

Chief’s Wife: *breathless* Aron stop!

Guard *aka Aron*: Melissa your trembling, what’s wrong?

Melissa: Ian’s getting getting suspicious! You know he’s been asking questions at the city hall! We have to get out of here!

*Ingo rolls his eyes, While Emmet and Y/n follow them completely enthralled.*

Aron: … And say goodbye to all that money? I don’t think so.

*grabs Melissa’s hands*

Aron: We just need to bide our time.

Melissa: *slaps Aron hands away* How can I trust you Aron? when you haven’t even told Charlene about us yet?!

Aron: *appalled* have a heart Mellissa, the woman’s still in a coma!

*Melissa scoffs and looks away, Emmet and Y/n jaws drops, Ingo couldn’t care less.*

Y/n: *whispering in disbelief* a coma?

{Ingo lays down on the cell’s bunkbed, Cue Ian walking in, Aron runs to the break room.}

Ian: Hi Honey! *Melissa smiles innocently at him*

Ian: *dropping the nice act* I just got back from the mayor’s office, he thinks he going to kill our little real estate deal...

Melissa: We can’t let him do that, what about those pictures of him and that masseuse?

Ian: There on their way to the news papers right now... We’re gonna destroy the old bastard!

Melissa: Perfect, Now all we have to worry about is Old man Jenkins... Maybe we should send your friend Eric to pay him a visit?

[They giggle to each other as another officer brings a man who hurries into the cell and stands next to Emmet and Y/n excitedly.]

Man: What did I miss? *Ingo shakes his head and pretends to nap*

[later, Y/n, Emmet and their new friend are enticed listening to Ian tell Melissa a tragic story of his past, while Ingo pulls his hat over his face still seemingly ignoring everything.]

Ian:... And as I pulled her from the wreckage, She was so..*chokes up* d-disfigured, that I didn’t even know... It was my own sister! *breaks down crying*

Melissa: Don’t worry, Dimitri is the finest reconstructive surgeon in the Unova!

Emmet: *whisper* Who’s Dimitri?

Man: *whisper* He’s the head doctor at Castalia Medical, him and Melissa had an affair last year then he-

Ian: SHUT UP IN THERE!

*The three jump away from the bars startled, as Ian breaks down crying again.*

[later.]

Melissa:[to Aron and Ian] We can still pull this off!

Aron: You’ll never get passed the DNA test Melissa, Even you’re lies aren’t going to be enough this time!

Ian: But Aron If you didn’t buy the mining rights, Than who did?

Aron: Don’t either of you see what’s going on? the perpetrator who bought the mining rights, is the same person who stole Ms. Margret’s diamond brooch.

[Emmet, Y/n and the man look at each other slack-jawed, Ingo still pretending to nap cocks a brow.]

Aron: They're also the same person who framed Nathan for Andre's murder that horrid night! And that person’s name is...

Prison Guard: Okay Missy you and Your buddies are free to go.

Y/n and Emmet: Awww...

Ingo: *jumps off his bunk outraged* What?!

Prison Guard: Move it.

[Y/n and Emmet comply while dragging a protesting and struggling Ingo behind them.]

Ingo: No! Five more minutes, You can’t just do this to me now! dammit!

Y/n: C’mon Ingo, Don’t make this harder than it has to be.

Emmet: Yeah you’re acting a baby.

Ingo:(ignoring them) It was the mayor right? or Thurston?! No no The janitor...Wait no he’s Ian’s amnesic brother! Ekk!

[Gets yanked out the police station by Emmet, while Ian, Melissa and Aron look at him like he's insane.]

#S: malcolm in the middle #pokemon incorrect quotes #submas #roommate au #subway boss ingo x reader #platonic! Subway boss Emmet #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #fem reader #long post

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abbatoirablaze · 2 months

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Down The Rabbit Hole, Chapter 14

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: some tension.

“Jeff…what are you doing here?”

Jeff smiled as he leaned against the frame, his books against his side, “I think the real question is, what are you doing here still if Professor Kane has the flu?”

“Well, I still have to prepare his lesson plans for the next day he’s here!” you pointed out. Jeff smiled as he watched you, and he moved into the classroom, dropping his books on one of the lab tables. You looked to the clock, “I should be done soon though. Then if you want I can grab a quick lunch.”

“Sounds good…”

“And maybe I can help you study…” you offered slowly, knowing that your boyfriend likely didn’t get much studying done.

Jeff spared you a look and you gave him a guilty smile.

“I don’t need to study, Tawney…I should be fine…”

“Knowing you, you didn’t study with the group.”

“We…tried…”

“Do you need help?”

“Not with biology,” he smirked, standing from his spot to move towards you. His arms encircled around your waist and you sighed, feeling him at your back. He kissed your neck and you put the papers back down on Professor Kane’s lab table, “okay…maybe I do need help with biology…but of a different nature…”

“Jeff…we’re at school.”

“And you need to take a nice, long break!” he offered kindly, kissing the sweet spot on your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as you sighed. You could feel him beginning to smirk against you as he pressed his chest into your back, “we’ve got a few hours before the group reconvenes…let’s go back to your dorm…order some takeout…see where biology takes us…”

“Render environment, biolab!” Abed said firmly, without looking at Annie, “oh look. There’s Britta and Troy fooling around with each other.”

“Look, there’s Abed having overcome his issues!” Annie pointed out, pointing to a corner in he dreamatorium.

He gave her a look, before rolling his eyes at her, “nice try. Dr. Barnes. Dr. Perry.”

“We just saved an uninsured homeless man’s life!”

“Using an unapproved procedure,” he said unenthusiastically as Troy, “now we’re going to kiss!”

He pretended to be Troy and Britta making out, and Annie grimaced, “this is what you think I want?”

“What do you want, administrator?”

“I want to talk to Abed!”

“There’s no one here by that name!” Abed said, pretending to be Troy once more.

“You’re lying!”

“Maybe I am,” he shrugged, “so what? I was raised on the mean streets of Harlem. I’m not scared of you!”

“Well…be scared of this!” she said, walking over to Abed and lightly punching him in the arm, “sodium pentothal, commonly known as truth serum.”

Abed groaned, before looking away from Annie, “I saw Abed’s name in he hospital school’s files, I love butt stuff, I hate spiders, I stole a pen from the bank, I cried over About a Boy. The soundtrack. I don’t wash my hands before surgery. I see why women are attracted to Clive Owen, to the point where I might as well be attracted to him. I use comparisons to Hitler to win arguments on the internet at the drop of a hat. I know nothing about wine. I’m more turned on by women in pajamas than lingerie. I just want to know that they feel comfortable. I didn’t get Inception! I didn’t get Inception!”

He groaned and pretended to sob as he dropped to his knees.

“You said you saw his name in the file!”

“There’s so many layers!”

“Right!” Abed agreed, running beside Annie as he pretended to be Jeff once more, “Render environment: medical study room! There’s head nurse Shirley talking to heartbreaking tragic Alzheimers patient and Emmy contender, Pierce Hawthrone.”

“Mr. Hawthorne, you’re out of your bed again!”

“Because I think I’m on a train.”

“Ohh! Oh!”

“Shirley!” Annie exclaimed as she ran over to Abed, who was pretending to be Shirley, “get me the file on Abed.”

“Abed doesn’t exist, young lady.”

“He exists if I say so. This is my hospital school!”

“Your hospital school is a simulation, of a filter being run through other people’s needs,” he pointed out, “Abed’s been filtered out, because nobody needs him!”

“I need him!”

“Well you’re not simulated!”

“No, but this is!” she said quickly, faux slapping him. Abed reached for his face and gasped while Annie continued on, “and there’s more where that didn’t come from!”

“This is a private compartment!”

“Jeff, get the files!”

“Why me?”

“You can see the cabinets!” she said firmly. When Abed, who was playing as Jeff didn’t move, she sighed and rolled her eyes, “because I’ll make love to you!”

“Jackpot!” He turned and reached towards an imaginary file, before opening a fake folder, “there is an Abed in this hospital school. But he’s not a doctor. He’s a patient!”

“Notify security!” ‘Shirley’ called.

“Conductor!”

“Jeff, take me to Abed!”

“And where is that?”

“Enough games! Just take me where I want to go!”

“Follow me!” he agreed, taking her hand as they ran in place.

“Are we almost there?”

“We’re close, but you should probably run in place and let the hallway move around you!” Abed made a bunch of noises to simulate the hall moving around them, until he came to a slowed stop, “Here we are!”

“Where?” Annie asked.

“Where you wanted to go! The last night of school first year!” he smirked, “the night we first kissed!”

Annie’s brow furrowed, “Abed wasn’t there. So whose memory is this?”

“Maybe it’s yours. Maybe the dreamatorium really works. Or maybe Leonard was watching from the bushes and told Abed about it!”

“I don’t have cable!” he said innocently enough as Leonard.

“Knock it off, Abed!”

“I’m not Abed.” He said firmly, “you’re confused. So was I. But not anymore!”

“Jeff…ABED. Stop. I don’t wanna do this! I wanna talk to Abed.” She argued. When Abed didn’t move, she shook her head, “I’m taking the file! Oh, it says Abed is in the recovery parlor. Condition: never better!”

“You’re not holding anything!” he said matter-of-factly, “this is the file. Abed Nadir, psychiatric patient, 1373. Control freak with no empathy. People bend over backwards to cater to him. Signed, healthcare administrator, Annie Edison.”

“That’s out of context!”

“Shhh! Shhh. Shhh.” He cooed closing the gap between them, “With Abed gone and Troy and Britta together, there’s nothing standing in the way of us.”

“Wait, what?” she asked, “your with-Jeff is with Tawney!”

“Come on,” he scoffed, “this is your dream! This is why you played matchmaker. This is what’s important to you!”

He went to lean in, but Annie pushed him away, “you are not Jeff. Because Jeff is dating Tawney and he wouldn’t cheat on her. I-I already tried when we were filling in for the Glee Club and he pushed me off of him, saying that he was in love with Tawney. And Jeff cares about you, Abed, despite what you want to think because of him and Tawney getting together. And I did not push Troy and Britta together so this would happen. I thought that they were cute together and this would be a bonus! AND WE ARE NOT HERE! And I’m not staying here because I hate whoever you are!”

“You should probably storm off in-“ Annie squeaked as she ran into the wall, completely forgetting that she wasn’t outside, but rather the dreamatorium. Abed sighed to himself, “in place…”

“You know…we don’t have to go running over to Abed every time something happens…”

“I just-Annie said that he wasn’t okay earlier…I just-was going to check on him…”

“I’ll see him later when the group reconvenes!” He said softly as he stroked your cheek. You gave him a soft look and pulled yourself closer to his chest. Your arms fell around his neck, “I’m sure he’s fine…”

“But I-“

“Tawney…” Jeff sighed, “look, I know that you feel guilty about how everything went down…how Abed still hasn’t really forgiven you, but-“

“I still care about him though, Jeff…” Jeff looked at you for a second before looking away. You could tell that something was up with how quiet he was being, “Jeff…what’s wrong?”

“I know that you still care about him…but do you-“

Your eyes went wide, and instantly you were shaking your head, “no…no. Not like that, Jeff. I don’t still have feelings for Abed like that.”

He nodded, but it felt like he didn’t really believe you.

“Jeff…”

“Hmm?”

“I-I do want to talk to you about something though…that doesn’t have anything to do with Abed.”

“Okay…”

This time it was you that gave him a look, “I uh…at the end of the year I’m accepting a junior professor position at Greendale…and I guess…I’m just trying to figure out a few things.”

His brow furrowed, “you’re going to teach at Greendale?”

“Yeah…” you admitted softly, “and I mean…I know that opens up a lot of weird doors, especially considering how you dated Michelle already…”

“You’re wondering if I’m okay with dating you?”

“I want to know what kind of footing we stand on,” you agreed, nodding your head as you looked at your boyfriend, “we haven’t talked about it much, but I-I think that if we’re going to keep seeing each other, we should be more serious. I know that your lease is ending soon, and once I graduate, I won’t be using a dorm…I uh-was wondering if maybe you wanted to look at a place together.”

The shock couldn’t be held from Jeff’s face.

“What?”

Suddenly, you felt your stomach dropping.

It was too much, too soon.

You felt your throat going dry, and you regretted saying the words.

“I uh-“

“Tawney…do-are you being serious?”

“I-uh…yeah…” you admitted slowly, gazing back up into his eyes, “I mean…if it’s something you're comfortable with…at the end of the school year. Do you want to move in together?”

Chapter 15

Tag List: @lohnes16, @mckeeee-1

#down the rabbit hole #troy community #community show #abed community #greendale community college #community #greendale #craig pelton #dean pelton #annie edison #troy and abed #abed nadir #shirley bennett #pierce hawthorne #britta perry #troy barnes #jeff winger

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fireflyhwufanficwriter · 6 months

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My thoughts on Dr. Stone’s S03E14 (“Deal Game, Test of Wit”)

(Safe to read for anime-only folks.)

My thoughts after watching Season Three, Episode Fourteen:

01. Why, Kirisame, why? :(

02. A second look at the Medusa, and at Kohaku and Ginro's heroism! They're absolutely correct to have completely faith in Senku and their friends!

03. The stars in this opening song are honestly just GORGEOUS...

04. It's very cool how in the previous two times we saw the opening song, Kohaku and Ginro's petrified statues are in shadow, because the scene would have been a spoiler - but now that it's happened, we see a different, more colorful version of the shot and it clearly shows them now. Awesome detail, animators! :D

05. The title of this episode is, "Deal Game, Test of Wit!" :)

06. Yuzuriha has been revived! Taiju's so respectful!

07. Gen's right - she's so good and fast with those stone statue puzzles now!

08. Chrome's back, and Kaseki's now very confident that he and Chrome are maker buddies!

09. It was very sweet of Suika to make a paper hat for Ukyo... who has also now been revived!

10. Umm... thanks for the close-up shot of Kohaku, Ginro, and GINRO'S BLOOD having just been turned to stone... :'( Also, how did they get into that pose, when Kohaku's face was clearly apart from Ginro's body while they were turning to stone?

11. Everybody looks sad and concerned, but Chrome looks agitated, and Senku... whoa, look at his right eye! :O That is a serious, SERIOUS expression! He means BUSINESS!

12. (Although... I THINK his fist was clenched in the manga...?)

13. Would have liked it if Suika had expressed a bit more concern about Kohaku... She just dove right into the Soyuz information XD

14. The five wise generals are off! They're gonna collate their information, and strategize about the next course of action... and... four of them are going to explain to Chrome how they know there's only one Medusa...

15. I like how Chrome pushed everybody's panels apart while he was asking for clarification XD

16. "He runs the show" shouldn't be an idiom that Chrome would use... There's theater shows, but still, I don't think he'd be casually using that idiom... AND Amaryllis agreed. I suppose the Japanese dialogue probably directly translates to something else, and this was just the closest phrase meaning-wise?

17. Mozu! And Taiju!

18. He is speaking so languidly... he really is not threatened at all by the kingdom of science. And I'm so glad Taiju can protect Senku and Yuzuriha this time, by putting himself between them and the enemy! Although he MAY have done that in the second season as well; I should check sometime...

19. Before, it was Ryusui, and now, it's Ukyo who's the one who is thinking to get at least one person out alive!

20. Don't feel bad, Amaryllis! The kingdom of science really need the information you gave them! Of course you had to come!

21. Good job, Chrome! :) You intuition is totally baad! :D

22. It's just weird how smooth and curved and cartoonish Mozu is the anime. He felt like a huge, powerful threat in the manga, but here... I don't know; the way he's drawn makes him seem a bit goofy?

23. Poor Gen... XD It's up to you! Everybody's lives are depending on you!

24. Senku, shh! You might get us all killed! XD

25. Manipulation technique #00: "Pretend your weak card is your ace of spades!"

26. Manipulation technique #01: "People feel more solidarity with you if you're next to them, not opposite them!"

27. Manipulation technique #02: "Try saying something that's a little bit off-the-mark. The urge to correct you will be so strong that they might sign on to something they never intended to!"

28. (Hah! Mozu's power may be one hundred, but according to the arithmetic battle, Kohaku's is one thousand! :D ...Of course, I think the old system also put Ginro at one hundred, so... um... maybe they're not using the same units... XD)

29. ...See, that Mozu frame was supposed to look menacing, but he just looks so silly in the anime for some reason...

30. I suppose that glowing aura around the Medusa makes it otherworldly, but there's NO way Ibara would hold it while it was still glowing XD He's much too cautious to do that!

31. Does Mozu have the same voice actor as Tsukasa? Their voices sound a bit alike...

32. This hidden, almost-evil-looking face of Gen's is like the face he made in Season One, when he had the idea to get everybody in Ishigami Village to make a telescope for Senku's birthday! :)

33. Manipulation technique #03: "It's called psychological reactance. When you feel like you're being forced to do things, your need to maintain control causes you to reject things!"

34. What is that tied-up part on the back of Ukyo's clothing...?

35. Manipulation technique #03.1: "The way to win a deal isn't to make the other person feel defeated. It's to show servitude, setting out a false red carpet for them and stuff. That's what really matters!"

36. Oooh, Senku and Mozu are shaking hands, formalizing their (super temporary, haha) alliance!

37. It's cute that Mozu was really surprised out when he heard Senku's voice through the earring - and very understandable!

38. He's so extra; he has to be ROWED back XD

39. Gen was so worried and relieved... but he did an AMAZING job negotiating for the kingdom of science, and more importantly, for his friends! :D He's such a talented mentalist and manipulator! :O

40. And Chrome's just like, "Well, as long as Mozu's planning on killing us LATER instead of RIGHT NOW, we're good!" XD

41. Gen totally deserves all the congratulations, and a very long, relaxing break!

42. "Mozu joined the party (for now)!!" And he beat up his fellow Treasure Islanders (which Gen seemed to approve of XD) in order to make them believe that he's an even stronger warrior than... himself, hahaha!

43. And that's it for this episode! Gen was, without a doubt, ten billion percent the MVP for this episode; his negotiation tactics were incredible! :O I have a theory about the episode after this one. I can't talk about it now because it would be spoilery, but I will when it's safe to do so! The next episode's title is "Battle in Three Dimensions," and it's going to air tonight! :)

https :// fireflyhwufanficwriter . tumblr . com / MyDrStoneEpisodeMangaThoughts

#dr stone #ishigami senku #kohaku #dr. stone #dr stone kohaku #dr. stone kohaku #asagiri gen

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caffeinatedchaos1397 · 2 years

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We were robbed because Dan & Dave forgot Daenerys & Sansa are politicians

I know, it’s been years. But I’ve been thinking about it thanks to House of the Dragon, and now I’m making it everyone else’s problem. I do ask that you stay with me, please, because this somehow keeps going back and forth from rant and fan fiction, so it’s long. No, I don’t know. Yes, I’m prepared to die on this hill

I 100% believe that if Dan and Dave knew what they were doing, we would have had a completely different dynamic between Daenerys and Sansa. Because, whatever you may think of Sansa, she did spend a few formative years in King’s Landings court.

Very long story short, Sansa learned a lot at a young age because of this. Such as doing things the ‘Stark’ way (i.e righteous anger, outright demands, etc.), usually loses you at least 11 lbs, no matter how morally and objectively right you are. But she also learned that manipulation works. Manipulation wins wars. Being a Lady and keeping her head down kept it on her shoulders during Joffrey’s reign. And she also grew up around politicians. She went through hell and back because of politics and the Iron Throne. And her trauma was caused by people that should have been taking care of her. Because she was a kid, who still loved fairy tales and believed she could have a happy ending.

Sound familiar? Exactly. And before you come in with ‘But Sansa would never trust Dany’ and ‘But Dany and Sansa were fighting about the North’s independence,’ I’m not saying they have to trust each other. In fact, I wouldn’t want them to even like each other at first. Because these are things that are bigger than their feelings, we’re deep into politics now.

Sansa’s first approach, in my opinion, would be to never bring it to Dany’s attention. Jon ‘bent the knee’, Sansa told her ‘Winterfell is yours, Your Grace.’ I believe that Sansa would have put back on the act of the perfect Lady. It makes all the sense in the world; she lived around people she couldn’t trust for years. It’s an old hat at this point. And she would have used Jon’s relationship with Dany and their shared experiences as an in. She just wouldn’t have brought it to Dany’s attention that Jon didn’t actually bend the knee, and never give her a reason to question the North’s loyalties until the time is right (Baelish’s influence, naturally). Maybe she only tells one other character so if she dies, the knowledge that North can still claim independence lives on. We saw some manipulation of Joffrey as early as season two, so it wouldn’t have been completely out of character.

So, at first, it should have been Sansa gaining Dany’s confidence politically while both women know they can’t stand each other personally. Can you imagine the scenes we could have gotten as they became ‘sort-of friends’? And if we keep with the whole not trusting each other thing, it would have made small moments of genuine friendship so bittersweet.

Okay, for example. After the Battle of Winterfell, we have two women in leadership that have already been through so much loss and grief, going through the grief of their long-time companions. In my opinion, these two characters deserved a scene with someone that understood there were no words that could be said. They deserved a moment to process their loss with someone who knew, before they had to go back to an entire world where they have to pretend to be okay because so many people depend on them to do so.

I also believe the actresses would have killed a scene like this. It would have been such a great moment that highlighted the fact that, in another lifetime, these two women could have been real friends.

It would also cause conflict with Tyrion as Sansa gained more influence over Dany. Because, no matter how good his intentions were, Tyrion was a part of Sansa’s trauma. And Sansa was technically part of framing Tyrion for regicide. Watching them try to undermine each other to Dany would have been great. The return of spiteful Tyrion would be a big bonus too. They could have also had this conflict expand throughout Dany’s Small Council as an influence to her becoming the Mad Queen. Just like, a situation where she sees that they’re plotting, but thinks they’re plotting against her, instead of each other.

‘But what if Sansa’s caught?’

At this point, I personally would have loved to see a ‘Sansa becomes Cersei’ storyline, and have her become the Queen of the North then. Maybe, in a callback to season one, Tyrion offers Sansa a chance to escape. She takes it and fortifies Moat Cailin as she gets back North, just in time for an attack from Dany’s now-united royal army Like, for me, a war between these two because of Sansa’s deceit could be the perfect external conflict to properly reflect Dany’s growing internal conflict with a growing paranoia.

But, for the sake of only 8 seasons, they could have also just had Dany chase her down and had Sansa taken out via voice command instead of all of King’s Landing. That would have brought back ‘anyone can die,’ ‘no one gets a happy ending,’ consequences to actions, caused the conflict they needed to have Jon kill Dany.

Tldr; Sansa and Dany could have had a solid political alliance that went brilliantly and devastatingly wrong in typical GoT fashion, but Dan and Dave completely disregarded their story arcs and opted for ‘catty teenagers’ outta convenience. It also could account for Dany’s sudden descent into madness without having her just decide to burn down a surrendering city because ‘No one likes me.’

#game of thrones #Dan and Dave were lazy #i'll die on this hill #sansa stark #daenerys targeryan #Game of thrones season 8

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notmuchtoconceal · 1 month

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Seeing your recent post, I'm still mad at myself for reducing you. I can't believe I did that. When I told you that I used to speak like you, looking back, the thing that burned away my creative voice was rage for the exact same reasons you're describing. And instead of rising above it, I went on a quest to reduce others.

When I talk about this Quest for Reduction, it is something that stems from how others treated me. The demon you were talking about? Some of them are there in a person from the very start. Mine was born a few years back and grew over time, but the ingredients to his rise may have been there much earlier. He's something of a Language Demon. He's not capable of original thought but he can twist others'. He doesn't change words, but emphasis of words. You take a sentence like "I stole three hats from the store today" and change just the emphasis, and you get different meaning.

"*I* stole three hats from the store today." Not him, not her. Me.

"I *stole* three hats from the store today." Not bought, not borrowed. Stole.

"I stole *three* hats from the store today." Not two, not fifteen. Three.

His whole game is subtlety. He understands the importance of background music in a scene. You ever seen that video Alfred Hitchcock makes about how order and sequencing of a scene can drastically change what it's about, even if you don't change a single image. He's all about that shit. He wants you to believe *you* failed to communicate something. There's always some way to reduce a person's writing.

What I'm about to tell you next is so hideous. But you earned it by outfoxing me. And maybe it's interesting to you. Maybe it's not, maybe you've seen it all before. Maybe everything is boring to you. But I think I'm less boring than I let on, even if I am cruel. Whatever.

So he (I) went on a tirade. We found wordsmiths. We searched for the subtleties in peoples' writing and we knew the perfect things to say to make them doubt. It was never direct criticism, too obvious. You had to pretend you were someone else. It's like--if you walk up to Elon Musk and want to hurt him, you don't say "Elon, I hate what you did to Twitter and think you're a pseudointellectual hack," you instead deliberately get trapped in an elevator with him and pretend you mistook him for Zuckerberg and express your excitement about joining his new social media account, Threads. Then you walk out before he can respond.

There's a lot I could say here about my methods, but I'm so divorced from the idea of continuing I can't speak about them without complete disgust of myself. Maybe I'll share some stories someday. Needless to say, the strategies are all different.

With you, I saw a potential interpretation of your writing as rambling, non-sequitur, and lustful without substance (it's not this, I've come to realize--not even close). My first method of attempting to reduce you was to appeal to what I had mistakenly believed was your self-importance. I gave you a nonsense fantasy topic and tried to see if you could attach postmodern, disjointed meaning to literally anything I said. I've done this before, and it comes across as innocent and playful after the fact. You let people fall on their own sword and just grab the popcorn. Easy. But you didn't take the bait. You laughed at me and dismissed me. So I moved onto the next step.

I tried to frame everything as a metaphysical trap that you had "solved" so I could dissolve your writing and do this back-and-forth where we pat each other on the back for being clever enough to solve the mystery. You see this in cults a lot. Cults are addicting because you feel like you're privy to some sort of secret knowledge that all the other "sheep" just can't see. Leaving them requires the acknowledgement that you're just as lost as anyone else. You didn't fall for that, either.

Then I just got sloppy and appealed to my own sense of lust. I tried to wrest control from this game that was spiralling away from me by fixating on the erotic aspects of your writing and pretending you were playing into my hands by fulfilling a role I had always sought after. Probably my most pathetic attempt, but the Language Demon was running out of options. It's not a lie that you definitely awakened something lustful in me. But it's a lie that that's all this was and a lie that it started that way.

When you finally split, you managed to reduce me. I had nothing to offer you. When you said this, it was the perfect thing to say to humble me and humiliate me. You didn't hate me so much as you'd seen my type before, both in yourself and in people you'd known. I wasn't a villain. I was a good, worthy person who was afflicted by a demon. Evil would be interesting, but I'm not even that. Not evil. Just common. DAMN.

I've never met someone who's the Real Deal before. Never met someone who's put me in my place quite like that. I'm not exaggerating when I say you blew my mind. I don't think you exorcised the Language Demon, but you sealed him away for a while. You halted my Reduction Tirade.

And I've been reading your stuff this time. Not skimming it, not reducing it. Actually trying to comprehend it. And there's more depth to you than I could have possibly imagined.

I'm writing this because it disturbs me that you're going through a rut right now, and I'm terrified that I had a hand in causing it. I've destroyed a lot of people this way, but you're the first I want to salvage at all costs. I figure that perhaps by adding some clarity to my intentions I can help you realize it's nothing you did wrong. It's my own hunger that caused this. It's a hunger born from my own inability to communicate properly. Not evil, but common, like you cunningly implied.

I want to sit down and listen to you now. I hope you come to realize that people can be interesting through their own interest in you, or that people don't have to be interesting to be worth your time. Or that you, as an interesting person, can *make* other people more interesting by giving them ideas.

Honestly why the fuck is someone with your gift not out there changing the world right now. I'm not saying you have any sort of duty or obligation to lend your talents to anyone, but rare people are cosmic chances that the world has--chances that are temporary and must be seized upon immediately or you have to wait a century for them to show up again. You said you thought maybe you'd consider just writing erotic stuff, but that's far too reductive for you, I think. The Language Demon you sealed away would love for you to do that, which makes me think it's a bad idea.

Anyway, I'm typing this up fast and not really correcting myself because I have limited time all of a sudden because Reasons. So here's my boring crash-landing of a conclusion: I don't know exactly what you want for yourself, but you're the most deserving person of love I've ever met. (Yeah I know everyone deserves love, blah blah blah, I'm speaking from my id). I realized that both of us made the mistake of letting our past interactions with others color our perceptions of the strangers we were. I don't think it would be wise for us to do that. We're entirely new people. We aren't a "type," and I think it's dangerous to assume such. It is so, so tempting to fixate on the aspects of you that are a reflection of me. But I can't do that, and I think the reason why I do is because I have a tendency to view happiness as an amorphous inevitability that can never be as unique as anguish.

We say that pain shapes a person, but happiness is treated as if it's just some sort of icing used to coat other, "truer" feelings. When people say "these are my true colors," why is happiness always left out as a truth? I think there's something to be said about its purity that we discount it. And I don't think happy people are boring by any means.

I want satisfaction from you. I understand you, and I don't. But I am happy to listen. And I'm waiting to hear you speak again.

I would have forgiven you. I would have let you back in had you the strength to have said this to my face. Man to man. Unblocked me. Treated me as a friend instead of a pawn in a game with yourself.

As well-studied as you may be, you could have only given this apt of a reply in resonance with the truth. By continuing to hide, you put the truth in service to deception and despite my awareness that you needed to become someone else to arrive at truth, I don't like being lied to.

Is it possible that you're such a compulsive liar, you're unafraid to lean further into the truth, well-aware you can build-up doubt, re-orient, re-direct later; in essence, taking two steps forward with the intent of taking three steps back? Possibly. Is it possible that you still think you're an innocent bystander and you're telling me to my face what you think my game is under the pretense of claiming it as your own? That's possible, too. You could be so afraid of how good I am at manipulating you, you'll sit there and lay out -- point by point -- every projection you saw in me, as if hoping some evil in my heart would feel flattered and gladly take it as my own, hence you would have managed to "feed" me.

You would have massaged the medicine into the dog food or whatever the exact words of stated-goal were you repeated over and over.

Alternatively -- you being the one to block me, to go on a smear campaign against me, willingly destroy yourself because someone you wanted didn't want you back (you never really wanting him until you couldn't have him) -- maybe you're so afraid of how covertly manipulative I am you need the distance to have the clarity to say any of this out loud.

The existential crisis you induced in me may be your own, but it's one I saw in myself from an early age, having known abuse so intimately. I had feared my entire conscious personality was a ruse to lure people in and torture them. While I fear that may be true of you, it isn't for me. I don't need to hide from those I love, they need to hide from me. My pride and vulnerability wounds them, for living in accordance with the truth (as close to the truth as a man can get, one must always strive) irritates their deceptions as though dissolving a spiritual and psychological bacteria.

You worship filth. Not in the way John Waters does as a means to build up an earthy tolerance -- manure, urine and ash containing vital nutrients which endow the fields with richness -- rather you worship corruption. You're as much of a towering intellect as athleticbrutality. Like all those afflicted with the Christian mindset, you're a devil worshipper. It stems from your polarized split-view where good and bad are cleaved to alleviate yourself of the traumatic severing of your feelings from your will.

Satan is the One True God of Christianity. Satan is not the Broken Heart of the Jewish people, whose Tribal God of Abundant Love grew shattered and vengeful in exile as any Broken Heart Would -- but the collective manufactured fears and agonies of the displaced who have made themselves slaves in a final desperate plea to make the pain end.

To clarify, I remember the day you said more people ought go to church. Churches are nesting grounds for demons because they're grease traps for spiritual bacteria. The displaced huddling masses coming in to beg for forgiveness leave trace elements which grow heavy and leaden, accruing over time to defile the holy places as spiritual super bacteria which survive the purgings make themselves at home, copulating on the altars. Truthfully, ritual purification is a lost art far from a glorious affectation, and it should ideally be performed before entering and after exiting any holy place, much like one would wipe their feet on a welcome mat.

(The same goes for hanging out with people after intense periods of productive work, but smart phone technology having made seeming illusions of time and distance, we're seemingly encouraged to pry open one another's mouths with our filthy, butthole-prodded fingers at any moment of any day and not only be proud of the convenience, but sneer at anyone who doesn't make themselves a willing opening.)

We defeat Satan by ignoring him, for to even acknowledge his presence feeds him. When he makes the attempt to strike us in his weakened state, we may simply laugh him off.

Your old messages are so revelatory, I will take your partial repentences gladly, though you yourself will still be ignored.

The old gods are real. Darkness and light are elemental forces. The words angel and demon are mistranslations of words which refer to messengers between the human and divine realms and the quality of mind which possesses one like genius. There is only mind -- matter itself being mind solidified, all things endowed with the soul of their creator -- and you know-well fear to be the mind-killer. To fear anyone reduces them to the bestial. This is why love sets us free. On the Earth, we have choice and we choose daily to live in heaven or hell, but neither of those are real places outside our imaginations. The splendor of this material world and how our mind moves in and out of it possesses too much grandeur to reduce to hoary old self-persecutory cliches. That's what all false binaries are: gay, straight, black, white, man, woman, self, other. All things are spectrums for the rainbow being the symbol of God's promise to never destroy is a plea to open our minds and recognize gradation rather than annihilate in the name of appeasing the old order.

Admitting one is lost is the first step to being found.

In keeping with your admission of the dangers of subtlety, I'd like to clarify I could never be as lost as you. I won't apologize for saying this, you being aware you pulled me off-course semi-deliberately (you having been so confused, the nature of your cognizance is ambiguous).

I don't think happiness is inevitable. Rather, misery is.

It's only a matter of time before each of us experiences sickness and heartbreak again, and we weather them as any coming storm, for our happiness is well-worth fighting for, much like our freedom and our love for our fellow man. Part of me wishes to chastize you with your favorite word "spoiled" that you could ever view happiness as inevitable, but rather a certain false happiness which is, as Malcolm X would say, the negation of conflict is inevitable in a neoliberal establishment where abuses are ignored, platitudes given, and business proceeds as usual.

The next time you feel compelled to call you or someone else "spoiled" remember always that your material bounty was a bribe you accepted to excuse spiritual and psychological deprivation, and had you been given the choice (been stronger to see past the lies; how your love was twisted by words) you would have fought harder to preserve the gift of choice, it being the only gift ultimately worth keeping.

I tried to kill my capacity to love to keep myself from loving you. I'm not anybody's savior. All I can do is save myself and hope those I love enough to interact with can come to the correct takeaways themselves. I sometimes feel so desperate to love and love freely I open myself to those who are beneath me and let them smear me with the filth of their shadow projections, being so tolerant they drag me down to their level and attempt to usurp my identity.

You could never be a lifelong friend, but you being smarter and more driven (and in your way, honest) revealed numerous self-defeating patterns in my own life, and I'll always be thankful I knew you.

Were you not in so much pain yourself, you could have communicated these vital points to me, for I only learned them by being engaged and putting the pieces together as though mentally reconstructing a house which had been hit by a cyclone.

You absolutely can talk to people calmly, firmly and to their best interest when you have the capacity to separate your bullshit from theirs.

I confess, you first being like a mentor, once I felt myself "outgrowing" you I would have cherished you as an advisor, having such a dynamic perspective which wasn't my own, there was much I could have still learned from you, had you valued either me or yourself enough to stay in my life.

You demand other people rule you, then resent them the power you willingly surrender. You demand an owner for you can't claim ownership of yourself and can thus only resent any opportunity for equality. In that vital sense, you're just like my last boyfriend. You lack genuine humility. You're not willing to learn from those you admire because making yourself subservient to someone you wish to learn from requires not only vulnerability, but humility.

I didn't become more than you through ruthless domination alone, oh no. It was by being selective in those I served. I think on some level you're aware you tell yourself you should serve everyone freely and this is "the way it should be" because you want everyone to serve you, just because. You think by surrendering your right to choose, that's a sacrifice everyone you meet should make because you did, it "being good enough for you" you've allowed yourself to have righteous indignation for anyone who doesn't willingly make themselves a slave.

Writing erotica or horror stories isn't only a way to get the itch out, it orients the mind toward confrontation and clarifies values.

When you're not aware of what's in your unconscious, you replicate it unthinkingly.

This is why we learn from the things we make.

This is why we make to learn, not show off.

Physical beauty and social prestige are symptoms of right work, not things in themselves to chase. A lot the problems men have with the overreaches of "feminism" are ultimately cart before the horse thinking which require witchcraft to resolve.

We don't make social progress by making excuses for ourselves. We do so not through the pretense of doing our best to escape blame, but by just doing so. If you've been amputated to fit a standard model theory of human worth, you may not know how to ask for things which would allow you to do your best, but feeling powerless, would follow the wrong example of other helpless people in your position.

Never forget how afraid you were that I could really love you. Never forget that you chose the comfort of the misery you already knew over striving for something more dangerous, fulfilling and ultimately real. Never forget I admired your thriftiness and your savvy, but never your globe-hopping because I couldn't separate in you what was a willingness to explore other cultures and what was a pretense to have "experience" and "knowledge" to browbeat those you regarded as bigger sheep than you.

I don't envy those who run away and hide.

It's as simple as that.

#ask was from july #potentially an AI #don't fuckin matter #i know the true forces behind it #feelings will never be verifiable #perception is a creative act #negotiating confirmation bias is an art #delusions can be deployed productively #when you know they're delusions #purty mindset is a cage #ignore me and do what you're told #your coach and manager are direct-downloads from the system #they know what's best for you #tis better to serve and never learn #than deal with frightful ambiguity #outside the constraints of service

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rissararity · 2 months

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Little Soldats -BuckyBarnes/OC

By RissaRarity

(NSFW, Dead dove do not eat. Rape/forced breeding, unprotected P/V sex, Non-consentual drug use, warning - 18+ only)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Seven years later, James returned to New York City and headed directly where he hoped to find her.

He caught a few glances and studied her from afar before approaching. Vanessa looked much the same as she had the last time he saw her, she would be twenty-six now. She had gotten a tattoo- a tiny, simple snowflake on her inner left wrist.

He wondered if that was for him, and took it as a green light.

James agonized over how to do go about this, should he just “bump in” to her? Try and contact Tony or Steve? Maybe he could catch the Captain on his way into the building?

His stomach flipped nervously as he covertly watched her from across the street, pretending to read a news paper with his head covered in a Baseball cap, eyes behind sunglasses.

She exited the Avengers Tower and paced outside like she was waiting got someone. Her knee length dress rippled lightly in the warm breeze, he was sure it smelled like lavender – her favorite scent.

Her hair was in a clip with a small chunk hanging by her face, familiar eye makeup framed her starlight gaze.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he decided to just go for it. He tossed the paper and headed toward her, taking off the hat and shoving it in his jacket pocket.

There was an audible hesitation in the clicks of her sandals when her eyes fell upon him. He head her gasp, covering her mouth.

“J-James?”

He took off the sunglasses and offered a smile, “Good to see you, Doll. I was ho-“ he oofed as she all but leapt into his arms, wrapping hers around him.

He chuckled, “-hoping we could catch up.”

“Is it really you?” she looked up at him, melting into his hand as it cupped her cheek. Blue met steel as they held each others gaze; she could tell.

It wasn’t Soldat, it was really James. His skin had gained more color and he’d grown some scruff but he looked so much more alive than he had been when they’d last seen each other.

The sparkle in his eye had returned, especially when he looked at her.

“Its me.” He promised, bumping his nose to hers the way she’d asked him to long ago. Just like it used to, it caused blood to rush to her cheeks as he pulled back.

James smiled, feeling his own heat up as well, though to a lesser extent.

“Is there some where we can talk?” he asked when she released him at last.

She checked her watch and glanced back to the door for a moment. “I'd love to, but it’s not really a good time, but uh…”

He frowned. “I can come back…or not…?

“Um…” she looked at the door again, “First, some questions.”

James tilted his head but agreed.

“Are you…free? Or…on business?” Vanessa cast her eyes down nervously before forcing herself to meet his eyes again, this time with defiance.

Still the same puffed up kitten he once knew.

“I’m free. And I’m me…as cliché and rhymy as that was. Wow I did not expect that to…ugh…” he face palmed, putting her nerves at ease. “I’m blowing this, aren’t I?” he asked, peaking through his fingers like a guilty child.

She laughed, the sound music to his ears.

He’d dreamt of hearing her laugh again.

“Hm…eight out of ten.” The beauty smirked, making him give a small laugh and drop his hands.

Behind her back he caught sight of the profile of a child with hair very similar to Vanessa’s. Steve shuffled over and picked up the kid, winking to him on the other side of the door and speed walking out of sight.

Looks like Wakanda’s report on his rehabilitation had come through on time. He was nearly positive Shuri was messing with him but part of him was nervous.

As excited as he was to meet the kid(s?)he knew it should ultimately be up to Vanessa.

James felt elated when she took him inside the tower-where Steve had since taken the child elsewhere- and into an empty meeting room.

She had FRIDAY soundproof the room and disable recording devices.

“How have you been?

“I’m…better. Getting better.” He offered a small smile, then explained about his time in Wakanda and clear bill of health and mind control.

He found it easy to talk to her even after so much time apart. If anything, more so now that he was alone in his head at last. While he told his story, he couldn’t help but watch her face like a Broadway show as every emotional change was clearly displayed. Her eyebrows were just as active as he remembered.

A smile crossed his lips as he realized that.

When he finished she sat quietly for a moment. “What happened to you? I really thought….” Her voice was tight, eyes misty.

“I nearly died after fighting Steve. I had a moment of clarity and pulled him from the water. That’s all I could get Soldat to do so I just kind of left him there.” He paused for her to process, “Some Wall Street, secret Hydra supporters had me in a lab for a while as my body began to struggle to heal fast enough to recover from my internal injuries.”

She frowned, eyebrows scrunching a little.

“When I was all fixed up, Soldat reported to base that he was going to stake out the Avengers Tower for a few days to try and learn routines. Some bull about planning traps…” he shrugged, “I didn’t though. I just bided time and laid low until you’d think I’d died, and checked the pocket.”

“Soldat lied to Hydra to help free me?” her eyes grew wide.

James’ cheeks tinged pink. He shyly looked down, “We were both a bit sweet on ya, Doll. Even he wanted you to have a chance at a good life…deep down.” He added.

Pink bloomed across her fair cheeks. “Were?”

He hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, making a small smile cross her plush lips, currently painted a natural looking pink.

His cold thumb pressed against her lower lip, squishing it a little to see the plushness of it. Vanessa tried to wrench her face away but was unable to move more than a quarter of an inch.

She watched sadness flicker in his eyes and he stood straighter, getting more reserved and taking a half step back from her.

The air in the room shifted slightly as his posture changed, he was notably distancing himself from her.

Way to go, Vanessa! You made it weird! She inwardly groaned and tried to think of a way to loosen him up again.

“As soon as I took off the tracking ring I left for the tower. I went in to ask for Tony but I was able to stop Steve on his way in. He was suspicious at first then took me to this very meeting room where he muted mics and soundproofed the room just like I did.”

“You took me to the same room on purpose?” He arched an eyebrow.

She nodded smugly.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You’re just as dramatic as I remember!”

“I prefer the term poetic.” She poked at his ticklish side, smiling as he wiggled away with a chuckle.

“Anyway,” she raised her brows for affect and paused, making him shake his head at her- still smiling. “He sat down with me and I watched him go through the file. I didn’t think about it at the time but now I’m embarrassed that I basically gave him pictures of my ass.”

They shared a laugh and the atmosphere relaxed, he leaned on the wall and she perched on the table top.

“He called down Tony to review it, and they agreed to take me in. Bruce confirmed my pregnancy with a blood test and had to study up to become my personal OB/GYN.”

James made a face, making her grin.

“I have a room in the residential floors of the tower, and so do the kids.”

“Kids?” his eyes sparkled with joy.

“Didn’t you know, likleyhood of twins is a feature of mine.” She winked.

A genuine laugh shook him for a few seconds but he nodded.

“Theodore Sebastian and Alice Rowan Johansen were born on a rainy May 18th in the medbay of the Avengers Tower. Alice at 2:13PM, Theo at 2:15.”

His smile widened, eyes crinkling a little at the corners as it reached them.

“Steve held my hand for the delivery and immediately took on a paternal role. He stepped up like they were his own.”

James considered Steve fondly, making a mental note to thank him.

Then his smile faltered a bit for a moment, becoming a bit forced. “If you don’t mind me asking…are you and Steve…? It’s okay if you are I just…need to know.”

She could see him disassociate himself from the conversation as he prepared to be hurt.

Vanessa shook her head, “Not really. After a few years we both sort of developed feelings…but never anything official. We want the kids to see what a healthy relationship looks like so we snuggle, and have kissed but the kids and I have a whole floor to ourselves.”

An unasked question hung between them.

“Ask.” She encouraged with a short nod.

James decided to spit it out, “Do they call him dad?”

“No. They know Steve isn’t their father. Neither of them have tried to call him that since we told them.”

“I half expected him to have signed the birth certificate as the father.”

She shook their head, “He offered, but I just…couldn’t forget you.” She showed him the little tattoo of a snowflake on her inner left wrist; earning a genuine smile.

“He did legally adopt them though. Technically they’re our kids but it’s all for legal reasons Tony tried to explain but I didn’t follow.”

“So he’s still making sure their future is secure.”

She nodded, getting an approving one on return.

“What are they like?” he asked.

“They’re really smart, and clever. They both got the strength and speed from the serum…I’d lose them constantly if it weren’t for Steve. I can’t keep up with ‘em!” she laughed, only half kidding as she dug out her phone and tapped on it a few times, showing him her photo album of the kids.

“Theo is a soft spoken, considerate boy who loves to help and make friends. Alice is confident, and fearless, but also short tempered. She is a natural protector, but he seems to be ready to have her back at a moments notice if she needs him. They’ve gotten into a couple of fights at Daycare but usually they’re defending someone else or each other. Using their powers for good, and all that.” She smiled.

From the pictures, he could see both children had inherited their mothers hair. Theo had her grey eyes too, but his facial features looked more like his father.

Alice seemed to like to keep her hair in a familiar braid most of the time, bangs hanging over her forehead and steel blue eyes that mirrored his own looked back at him.

He blinked and felt something wet slide down his cheek.

Tears.

He was crying.

Vanessa didn’t comment, just smiled a little and crossed her arms over her chest in a hug while she watched him scroll through the hundreds of family photos. He even smiled at the ones that included Steve.

It made him happy to see them all safe and sound. His whole family together.

She stepped a bit closer and started telling him some of the stories behind a few of the photos. He listened in earnest and his eyes were wet as the screen reflected in them.

“Would you like to meet them?” the beauty asked at last. He blinked, sending another cascade of tears down his cheeks and nodded.

The next day at the agreed upon time, Bucky returned to the Avengers Tower where Steve met him at the elevator.

The super soldiers hugged each other as Cap let the elevator scan his face. “Access granted.” The AI said, door sliding open to let them in.

“Good afternoon, Captain Rogers and guest. Where would you like to go?” an Irish accent piped.

“I’d like to see the kids.” He said simply.

“Johansen residence – clearance granted.” The elevator said, starting its accent into the sky.

“I asked Vanessa already but…” Steve slightly turned to Bucky who shuffled his feet anxiously, “What are they like, Steve? Are they…normal?”

The blonde was quiet for a moment, “You’re worried some of the mind control got through.”

He nodded.

“It doesn’t seem like it, but honestly we shouldn’t celebrate until puberty when aggression peaks.”

Bucky nodded, a small frown on his face.

“But currently, both seem like honest, protective kids. We had them tested and both of them have clear signs of the serum in them, so they’re quite the power duo.”

“Using their powers for good.”

Steve nodded, “We’re doing our best with em, Buck. They know to be careful with other kids, and Nessa. Sometimes Alice's tantrums get out of hand and I have to step in but she doesn’t…”

“She doesn’t get the look.” The shorter man finished.

“So far, no. And she always apologizes after.”

They both knew the look, as did the twins mother.

The blank, slightly venomous look the Soldat always had when he was activated. The infamous deadeyed stare while he disassociated from reality.

Bucky wasn’t sure if it was possible for any of the Soldat to get passed on but stranger things had happened.

They were quiet for a few floors before he spoke again, “Anything I should know? Do they know who I am? Do they want to meet me?”

Steve offered a smile, rubbing his friends back with one hand for a few seconds. “They know they’re meeting someone important today. We haven’t told them exactly but…I’m pretty sure they’ve figured it out. They’re excited. Relax, Buck, they’re not toddlers anymore. They’re…durable.”

After a deep breath, he nodded just as the elevator slowed then stopped. “Johansen residential floor.” FRIDAY informed them as the doors opened.

Steve led James into the apartment, keeping a normal pace to encourage him. With their enhanced hearing they hear some shuffling in the main area they were coming up on.

The entire apartment smelled like lavender, Vanessa's signature scent.

They could hear her whispering to the kids who giggled and whispered back.

When Steve entered, two sets of little feet came running over. Now seven years old, the kids from the pictures Bucky saw immediately climbed his legs and placed themselves on his hips, letting him wrap one arm around each of them.

“Hey kiddos! How was school?” he asked, smiling and looking between the two of them.

Alice told him about the older bully who’s face she rubbed in the dirt and Theo just smiled with pride.

When they calmed down, Theo looked over Steve’s shoulder and finally noticed the other man with eyes identical to his sisters . Alice noticed Theo’s attention had shifted and Steve flat out dropped them, letting them land almost silently on their feet.

Bucky was glad they didn’t run at him, he wasn’t sure how he’d react. He glanced up at Vanessa who winked…telling him she’d told them not to.

He looked down at them with wide eyes, surprised when his daughter narrowed her eyes at him. She stepped in front of Theo and very clearly sized him up before her face relaxed and she offered a smile.

“Theo, Alice this is Bucky. He’s a friend of Steve and I-“ “He’s our dad.” Alice cut her off.

Steve and Vanessa exchanged an amused smirk, “Yes, he is.”

At this, Theo stepped in line with his sister and took in the man before them who tried not to shrink under their gazes.

After a few tense seconds of silence, the twins smiled at each other then Bucky, opening their arms in tandem – around their siblings back the other out.

James teared up as he stepped forward and knelt, taking his kids into his arms.

Steve put his arm around Vanessa's shoulders and they smiled at the display, not a dry eye in the house.

“Welcome home, dad.” Alice kissed his cheek.

“Will you stay?” Theo asked, head on his shoulder.

Tears slid down his cheeks as he looked over the kids’ shoulders at Vanessa and Steve. She nodded and smiled, tears staining her face as well.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. We’ll be a family from now on- all five of us.”

A/N:

I couldn't decide exactly how I wanted it to end so I left it open ended. Like if Vanessa and Bucky get together, or Vanessa and Steve, OR maybe eventually they form a thruple? Maybe Vanessa and Steve have a set of twins of their own?

I couldn't pick one so you can fill in whatever future you want for them 😊

#bucky barnes #bucky x oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #ao3 recs #ao3 fanfic #captain america fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #winter soldier fanfiction

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w-sincerity · 3 months

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I'm still trying to figure you out and its bothering me. I'll be honest, you're bothering me right now and i don't know to pretend your not. its not as simple as you tell me it is, or maybe I'm just wrong about everything. my heart is being stretched in ways i didn't know it could be, for you of all people, i truly don't understand how i am having this conversation with you and no one else in the universe. why is it that when i see you close to someone else my body turns hot just as it was when i first met you. I'm questioning myself right now, you're doing something to my hormones, my body, mind and soul. something is stirring within my soul when i look at you a little to long, for a man who has experienced lifetimes who still has stars in his eyes, you don't sit right with me. how foolish i am, to think i could have figured you out in a couple of months. i don't know you at all, i know how you comfort me when i am broken, how your embrace has began to linger a little to long when i am collapsed in your arms, how you started talking to me quieter when we are in a loud room, how our gaze lingered. I know what you would say in those moments or how you would react but what I'm interested in is how your mind works. i want to hear your stories, not the same ones you told me when we were young but the ones you are too scared to tell anyone. Because what i have learned is that you are frightened, thrown into the maw when you were to young to know what that meant. everything you have faced, the brutality i cannot protect you from, it isn't my job to shield you from his fate that was chosen for you--all i want is for to you to reach out your hand and grab mine--I see you in your faults, flaws, mistakes, imperfections, and regrets I see you.

wI find myself laying awake in bed in the deepest hours of the nigh staring at the ceiling, wondering where you are, how you are doing, if you are well, worrying about every little thing. I see our lives walking paralelly. A tired you, your growing out black hair tucked back into a hat to conceal your identify as you walk through the frigid midnight streets. Scattered snowflakes like winters fall around you, collecting on the shoulders of your black jacket before falling to the ground in your footsteps on the sidewalk. The skyscrapers of that familiar but ominous skyline glow behind your silhouette consumingly. still, the snow falls as you venture closer to the river banks. The dark waters of the river contain the mystery, fame, agony, and pleasure trapped in the windows of the skyscrapers. The waves of the river rushing against the river banks as you habitually turn your playlist on only for your eardrums to be consumed with white noise. I hear your worriedly heart beat in the white noise, my heart pulls me to run to you to go without reason. this intensity--pulling me from my bed until it consumes me entirely, my chest filled with anxiety and hopelessness i rollover. My trusted friend, the realities we watched burn together. Trapped in the moment, i close my eyes. I hear a frantic knock on a door in an unfamiliar apartment, my eyes locked on the wide river out the window. Close to 4:00am, I lock over my shoulder through the small apartment to the black door shaking slightly around the frame. The anxiety i held in my chest tingles in my fingers, i hadn't been watching him. he ignores my texts--sometimes calls too. i fear the hell would put me through as i am beginning to watch the walls disappear around me for only him to remain. The knocking at the door continues --'Ah, it's me, i promise, no one else knows this address. Let me in, please...I know it's early...' i ignored his voice filled with explanations, i didn't care.i was relieved to hear his voice, uneasiness but still relieved. History cannot be erased nor can it be defined within us. He was speaking in short sentences, i doubted he was drinking, just delirious. I opened the door quickly to see his arm pressed against the door frame, his left hand clutching his chest. his breath was heavy, almost out of breath and his brow furrowed with worry. the tip of his nose was red from the cold but his cheeks were surprisingly pale. His eyes flicked up to mine, meeting my gaze with an air of certainty and sensuality. He smiled with ambiguity in the dim light glowing from the window behind me before stepping inside the door and closing it quickly behind him. He exhaled heavily and tilted his head to the side causing his neck to tighten with the muscles he had been developing. he paced into my kitchen, his snow-covered combat thudding heavily on the dark wood floor. he wiped his black bucket off of his head with a single quick movement causing his long black hair to fall forwards over his forehead and ears. His hair was slightly kinked from his ponytail as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before I paced into the kitchen after him. "Are you okay...?" I murmured hesitantly out of formality, already knowing the answer before he quickly turned to face me pulling his black hair out of his face with his left tattooed hand. His starry eyes glistened with worry and a growing sense of lack of control. "No...I'm not okay at all right now." He said with confidence looking into my eyes as he grabbed my chin with his left hand followed by his right hand tightening around the front of my blouse and pulling my body into his. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes quickly flicking in the direction of the window as he pushed his lips into mine with a quickly rising heat. The metal of his sliver lip ring stung against my tongue and lips as I tilted my head to the side to push my lips back into his without hesitation. I had been waiting for this moment, fearfully maybe but with anticipation. I caressed the back of his shoulders allowing my hands to tighten around the

back of his jacket as his grip on the front of his blouse had loosed and shifted to my lower waist above my left hip. He tilted his chin forwards causing his lips to knock into mine with further intense pressure, the sweet bitterness of his saliva lingered on my tongue as his slightly curlier black hair gathered in front of his forehead. I stepped forwards towards him allowing my hips to push into the front of his along with my bare feet stepping his combat boots. He winces with the heat and pressure of my teeth sinking into his bottom lip causing his lip ring to clink against my teeth. My stomach filled with butterflies and anxiety with the lack of hesitation in his kiss, my head tilting back up to him further with my lips pushing into his automatically. He suddenly pulled away from me, allowing his breath to become heavier with his lips glistening from his saliva as he looks down at me with heightening arousal and internal sensitivity. I rub my lips together in disbelief from the passion in his heavy kiss, I shift my gaze up from my eyes fixated on his lips to meet his charged gaze unwaveringly.

Heat begins to burn in my chest, not a spark of desire nor lust but of hopelessness and growing desperation. i was afraid, so afraid of losing him to the shining lights that filled the streets beneath us--

to a fast life that would become faded and disappear before it started, a life where i couldn't remain by his side on the stormiest nights.

i pause for a moment, admiring his clouded dark eyes looking into mine as I squeeze my hand against his left forearm pressed against the side of my waist with brief dismissal of his touch despite longing for his body to collapse into mine. my eyebrows furrow with doubt.

"Show yourself to me, all of it, reveal it, whatever it is that hands behind your eyes every time we speak-- and don't deny it this time."

- he grabs her wrist and pushes ivt into her chest, unbuttoning his shirt in the frontng smoothly causing his chin to hang down in his chest before he cocks his head to the side, his dark eyes flicking down to meet my gaze and down to my lips. He ignores my words and leans down towards me with desire, his slightly heavier and soft breath on my lips. I lean back away from him, my chin tilting up to his. My nose a mere inch away from his with the tension growing between us with each of his breathes. His eyes flick down my face before I take my hand off of his forearm and push it into the centre of his chest between the leather of his jacket into his grey dress jacket. My touch slightly soothed the look of distress clearly painted on his cheeks as he let out a relieved sigh, the heat of his breath burning not only on my lips but in my chest.

"Express yourself to me, I don't give a fuck how you do it, undress your truth to me, I don't care how ugly it gets, I want to see it--to feel it." I demanded sincerely, my voice trembling subtly with his breath on my lips as I clenched my fingers into the grey fabric of his dress shirt before his eyes flashed with an abrupt realization, his lips slamming into mine with a burning passion. I wince at the pressure of his lips, the tip of his tongue softly slipping in between my lips as he presses the palm of his hand against my lower back causing my lower back to arch with his touch. He abruptly sinks his fingers into the back of my hair, my hair quickly spreading across his fingers as his hand tightens in my hair painfully causing my lips to separate from his, he pulls my hair causing my chin to slit up to his.

His eyes more completely cloud with intoxication, his eyebrows beginning to push together with frustration in his typical way of a fever as he steps closer to him causing his lower torso to push into mine firmly.

"Don't you think I'd tell you, baby? If I wasn't so fucking afraid of letting you down--I won't be the one who breaks your heart tonight." His voice hardening with vulnerability and shaking slightly with the pressure of his hand gripped strongly in my ears as he tilts his chin downwards towards the center of his chest followed by his longer black heavy hair falling over his eyebrows from beneath his black bucket hat. His grip released from my hair with relief with him pushing his hand into the center of his chest and unbuttoning his dark grey dress shirt sensually with purpose. He unbuttons his shirt down to a couple inches above his belly button with his hands tightening with thick veins and the black and dark blue ink of his tattoo soaked into his darker skin. His chest was surprisingly bare from the familiar ink of tattoos and light black chest hair spread across his chest as he leans forwards to collapsec into her quickly followed by his lips pushing against mine with heavy desire causing my lips to separate to allow his tongue to caress mine. His chest presses into my breasts, my back arching with the intense pressure of his hand pressed against my lower back causing me to stand up on my tiptoes gently. He pushes his right hand into my shoulder with experience, his fingertips dragging down my collar down to the front of my neck causing the palm of his hand to push cement against the front of my neck with playful sinister intention.

My eyes roll back in my head with his touch, my lips separating from his eyes as i tilt my head back aeau from himes, wanting him to--internal struggle of wanting to give into the pull of her heart or remain as friends, whatever that meant to her anymore, a boaderline, a fine line that was walked across nearly everytime the two souls met. tiering on the edge of falling into oblivion, just friends that can't stay away from each other.

i never imagined i would fear a future without you I want to know you deeper.

#the

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blueskrugs · 3 years

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Jump Then Fall | Jack Hughes

I am eternally soft for this kid, okay. this is not the original birthweek fic I had planned for him, but it is a bonus Swift Fic because I couldn't help myself. enjoy while I work on getting my shit together for the summer!

tagging: @marcoscandellas @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @poltoncarayko @robthomissed @letmeplaytheblues @troubatrain @ayohockeycheck @blackwidowrising @aria253264 @antoineroussel @starswin @glassdanse @ch-ristiane @majdoline @nazdaddy @hockey-more-like

length: 2k words

High school relationships never worked out. That’s what they always told you, at least, when you and Jack were young and in love. And they were right, sort of. You’d broken up not long after you’d both graduated, with Jack off to be drafted and you off to college. Except you’d stayed close, texting and talking on the phone often once Jack had headed off to New Jersey. He was one of your best friends, and you were thankful he was still in your life, but you weren’t sure you’d ever stop loving him, not really.

I like the way you sound in the morning We're on the phone and without a warning I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

Saturday mornings always meant long phone calls with Jack. You’d both wake up early and make coffee before spending most of the morning on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes you wished more than anything that you could see his face, but you weren’t sure what would come spilling out of your mouth when you saw him.

One cold morning in December, you were pretty sure Jack had still been asleep when you called. His voice was slow and rough when he spoke, but you could still hear the smile in his voice.

When you heard him yawn, big enough his jaw cracked, you laughed. “Am I keeping you awake?” you asked.

Jack rushed to answer, “No, never.”

“Jack,” you warned.

Jack laughed. “We got in late last night, I’m just a little tired, I’m fine,” he told you.

“I can let you go back to sleep,” you said.

You heard Jack sit up on the other end of the line. “No way, absolutely not,” he said.

“We’re not even talking about anything important.” You’d mostly been stressing about the end of the semester.

“So? I like talking to you,” Jack argued.

You sighed. “You’re an idiot,” but it came out more fond than annoyed.

Somehow, that phone call lasted almost two more hours. Later, you wouldn’t remember what dumb thing you’d quipped that had made Jack burst out laughing, but you’d always remember the sound of that laugh. You’d wished you’d been able to record it, to have it to listen to on rough days, on days you missed Jack a little extra.

I hear the words but all I can think is We should be together

Jack was telling some story about his teammates. You were only half-listening, paying more attention to his face as he talked. It was late, and Quinn and Jack were home for Christmas. You and the three Hughes boys had taken over the basement for the night. Quinn and Luke were sprawled out on the couch opposite you, and you were buried under several blankets with your feet in Jack’s lap. He was using one hand to help illustrate his story, but the other was resting on your ankle, warm despite the chill outside, his thumb absently rubbing against your bare skin.

Quinn threw a balled up napkin at you, jolting you back to reality. “What’re you thinking about over there?” he asked.

“What?” You threw the napkin back at Quinn.

Luke chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s not that funny, there’s no way you’re smiling at him.”

“Hey!” Jack protested. You dug your heel into his thigh, and he turned to grin at you.

You hadn’t even realized you were smiling. You always seemed to be smiling when you were around Jack, you couldn’t help it.

“Just missed you guys,” you said, grinning back at Jack.

Jack squeezed your ankle and went back to telling his story. You still weren’t listening.

Well, I like the way your hair falls in your face You got the keys to me I love each freckle on your face, oh

When Jack first started growing his hair out, you hated it.

“No, why,” you said the first time you saw him that summer. Luke laughed from somewhere behind you.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and smirked at you. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You love my hair.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I’ve changed my mind,” you said.

Jack squawked, outraged and offended. He slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close as you giggled and tried to get away. “You’ll pay for that,” he told you. You dug your elbow into his ribs until he let go of you.

Later that night found the two of you left alone near the bonfire as the sun went down.

“Hey,” Jack said. You locked your phone and tilted your head back to look up at him upside down. “Do you really not like the hair?” he asked.

You snorted. “Would you cut it if I said I didn’t?” Jack shrugged, not quite meeting your eyes. You sat up and twisted to look at Jack properly. “You wouldn’t, oh my God.” It was hard to tell, but he might’ve been blushing in the fading light,

“Just tell me the truth,” he said.

You looked at Jack, really looked at him. He was tan, a new burst of freckles dusted across his nose. He’d shoved a hat on since you’d first seen him earlier in the day, but you could still see how his hair was just beginning to curl at the ends past the nape of his neck. Jack stared back at you, blue eyes dark.

“I guess I could get used to it,” you said.

Honestly, you were so gone for him, you were pretty sure you’d end up still liking him no matter what he looked like.

When people say things that bring you to your knees I'll catch you

Sometimes you didn’t know how Jack put up with it all. From losing streaks to being called a draft bust to people questioning whether he was capable of being a leader, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t have to deal with some bullshit. You knew it wasn’t easy, but he rarely let it get to him. Rarely, but not never.

It didn’t surprise you when your phone rang after a rough game. You answered the FaceTime call without thinking about it, smiling softly when Jack’s face filled your screen. He looked tired, dark bags under his eyes and his hair hanging limply in his face.

“Hi, bud,” you said.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed, long and loud, scrubbing his free hand across his face. You’d been able to watch the game, had watched the blowout happen in real time, just another loss in this skid, in a season that had started out promising for once.

“I’m tired,” Jack whined.

“You look like shit,” you told him. Jack stuck his tongue out at you. “Do I need to get Ty to delete Twitter off your phone again?” you asked. Jack rolled his eyes, but you weren’t joking.

“No, I just-” Jack rubbed his eyes again. “Did you see what my plus-minus was tonight?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Oh my God, no, we’re not doing this,” you said. Sometimes Jack wanted to forget everything about a shitty game, but other nights he got frustrated and wanted to pick apart every mistake he’d made on the ice. You dragged your laptop closer to you. “C’mon, open your Netflix, we’re watching a movie.”

There was some scuffling on the other end, with Jack accidentally pointing his phone at the ceiling. “Fine, but I get to pick,” he said.

You argued half-heartedly with him for a while, but he won in the end, and you settled on some movie you’d both seen a dozen times. It was quiet while you watched, a comfortable silence, heavy with familiarity.

“Hey,” Jack said lowly as the end credits rolled later. You’d been half-sure Jack had fallen asleep on you. “Thanks.”

You smiled tiredly at him. It was late, and dark in his room, and you could barely make out his blurry form on your phone. “Anytime, Jacky,” you said, but you meant, “I love you.”

You can jump then fall, jump then fall Jump then fall into me, into me, yeah

Your doorbell rang one morning in early May. When you pulled open the front door, there was Jack, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pocket, standing on your parent’s front porch.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for a few weeks still,” you said, leaning against the door frame. The Devils season was over, but Jack had told you he was planning on sticking around for a while or traveling some before coming home for the summer.

Jack took one of his hands out of his pocket and ran it nervously through his hair. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, instead of responding to your non-question.

You raised an eyebrow at him. You’d known Jack for years, and you could probably count on one hand the number of times you’d seen him be nervous. “Well, don’t hurt yourself with that, bud,” you told him.

He made a face at you, but it also got him to smile. “Will you just let me-” he started, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Hey, c’mon, let’s go inside,” you said, stepping back to let Jack follow you into the house.

In the living room, the TV show you had been watching was still paused, but you both ignored it. You sat back on the couch, but Jack stayed standing, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You’re freaking me out a little, Jacky,” you said.

Jack sighed and sat on the floor in front of you, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him. “I miss you,” he said.

“Jack, we talk every day,” you told him. “I’m right here,” you added softly.

Jack huffed and ran his hands through his hair again. He laid back for a moment, staring silently up at the ceiling fan as it slowly turned above you.

“Have you ever thought about getting back together?” he asked when he sat back up.

You thought about it a lot, actually, but you just said, “Yeah.”

“Do you think we could do it?” Jack asked next.

You hesitated on that one. You’d thought that, maybe, you could’ve made it back when you were in high school, but things were so different now. You’d listened to the opinions of others so much back then, had broken up in part because you thought that it was inevitable anyway. Could you make it through all that again? You still had a few years until you graduated, and New Jersey wasn’t exactly close.

Then again, you two were as close as ever. Jack had only missed a handful of your Saturday morning phone calls, and it was always just because of hockey. He was still sitting on the floor in front of you, looking nervous as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

Jack’s face fell a little. “Do you think we could try?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, just as honestly. You’d never been good at saying no to Jack, anyway.

Jack beamed, and you knew exactly why you still loved him after all this time. Jack leaned forward and tugged at your foot. “Hey, come down here,” he whined. “Wanna kiss you.”

“Or you could come up here?” Jack tugged harder. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking needy,” you laughed, but you slid off the couch and let Jack pull you into his lap.

His hands went to your waist, sliding under your T-shirt, and he smiled smugly up at you. “Hi.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose. “Hi,” you said back.

“Uh-uh, you can do better than that.” A kiss to his cheek. Jack rolled his eyes and put one of his hands on your cheek to drag you in for a real kiss. “That’s better,” he whispered, but you were already leaning in for another kiss.

#cait writes things #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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heshoes · 3 years

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She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.

Warnings: smut, slow burn, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse

Harry Styles x OC (Face claim Zendaya)

Uni Daze Masterlist

Chapter 1 (Word Count 4k)

Harry

Water droplets cascaded down my neck before I grabbed a towel to throw over my head. That shower was definitely needed. My muscles would be sore from my workout this morning, but I enjoy the ache. As I headed towards my room to put on clothes I noticed that my roommates door was still closed and for Michelle this can only mean one thing.

I pulled up my trousers and pulled my t-shirt over my head before layering it with a plaid button up. If she doesn't wake up soon, I'll be forced to take measures into my own hands. I walked halfway down the hall and then stopped to pick up the beanie that I let Michelle borrow last night. The hat was carelessly tossed on the floor along with a t-shirt of hers and a pink-ish orange lace bra. This was just one of the many downsides of living with a woman. Even if she is your best mate, finding the occasional bras and panties mixed into your clothes on laundry day can put a damper on your chances of trying and talk to a girl if you don’t have a washer and drier in house, and lets not even mention those four to five days out of the month when a tampon box is left on the bathroom sink and you have to explain that to a date. Not thinking, I picked all of the items up before I dropped the shirt and bra on the ground, feeling somewhat awkward touching something that was so close in contact with Michelle's...intimate bits.

"Michelle?!" No answer…

"Mitchell?! Wake up you're gonna be late for our first class!”

I laughed to myself at her lack of response before I sauntered back down the hall to my room grabbing the Ultimate Alarm; a fog horn that Michelle, the lads, and I nabbed from a school footie game. We each have one and have all have organized to use it with each other when the drink has made us more sluggish than functional.

Not much has changed since the first day I met Michelle. She's the only one here that I've met who seems to have stayed the same throughout all the three years of university that I've known her....That can be looked at as both a good and a bad thing.

Shaking the foghorn with devilish delight and biting my cheeks so that I wouldn't blow my cover, my feet stopped in front of her door once again. I cracked the entrance slightly sticking my arm in the room and turning my head away to shield my ears as much as possible from the noise. As soon as I pressed the button to sound it off, I heard a loud thudding sound followed by cursing. If she wasn't up before, she's up now.

"WHAT THE FUCK, HAZLAND?!”

I ran back to my room to put the horn down and grab my bag. This is the first year that I haven't strained my back to pick it up. Fouth year with a lighter load but more studying than I did in all the other three years combined seems pretty backwards to me, but I won't complain.

"What time is it?”

"Half- Oh-“

Michelle emerged from her room looking worse for wear. Her hair was in a nest atop her head and she only wore a long sleeved burgundy t-shirt and a black pair of boy short knickers on her lithe, lanky frame. I swallowed deeply and turned my head away not expecting her to be so scantily clad. The colors contrasted with her warm honey/caramel skin tone and it was only then that I took in how much of her skin was actually showing. I've seen her naked before but it was an accident and brief. Very brief. I only saw her outlines really, nothing of real importance... not that I was trying to look or anything.

"Half past eight. Go put on trousers! I don't want to see your bajingo!”

Michelle primped her dry lips at me prior to moistening them with a swipe of her tongue, making sure to flip her middle finger up in my direction before she disappeared back into her room.

"Everyone wants to see my bajingo Harry and that's plenty of time for me to get ready. You didn't have to use the Ultimate Alarm. It's not like I was in a drug induced coma!”

"I called you twice but you didn't answer. I thought that-“

I trailed off my words as a gorgeous blonde walked out of Michelle's room. Her hair was tussled and she was scrambling to adjust her skirt as Michelle looked at me with a tightlipped grin, feeling out the room.Michelle walked her secret house guest to the door and gave her a lingering kiss that caused the girl to stand on tip toe before awkwardly waving a goodbye to her and shutting the door. I was left stunned.

"Pick your jaw up off the floor Styles!”

"That- that was a girl.”

“Yes."

"She was your friend?”

“No."

Michelle walked into the kitchen grabbing an orange juice carton out of the refrigerator. She took a sip straight from the jug causing me to grimace before she rolled her eyes at me and grabbed a red solo cup. I was only momentarily distracted before I continued on my previous trail of thought.

"But, you were...and she…"

"Yes Harry, spit it out come on. You're almost there. I know it. I can feel it”

"She was putting her clothes back on.”

Michelle nodded her head in agreement as she continued to guzzle the rest of our citrusy, pulp free juice. After she finished it, she tossed the empty plastic to me and then walked out of the kitchen. I was right by the bin but set the cup on the countertop as my brain continued to navigate through what I think I want to ask.

"You didn't have on many clothes…"

"No, Harry. Neither of us did last night.”

Michelle folded her arms while squinting at me. The hint she's dropped allows what comes out of my mouth next to be uninhibited and honestly sound a bit too over zealous about the idea.

"You had sex with her?”

Michelle nodded her head up and down grinning slightly. Almost a smug look on her face I would say. She hadn't been in a relationship in a while. The last one I remember was when she was with my best mate Louis. It's how I met her as a matter of fact. Michelle and Louis are virtually the same person. It's freaky sometimes. She could be a reincarnate of him as a girl. They were inseparable, but when it ended it ended badly. I'm still not clear on the reason why. Neither of them will talk about it, but I managed to stay neutral in the whole situation and still be able to carry on a friendship with both of them. I'm still good friends with Lou, but he doesn't come around as much since I moved in with Michelle. Me and her got on so well while her and Louis dated it was hard not to become friends with her as well. Louis moved on and moved in with his bird earlier this year and I haven't really seen Michelle with anyone...Until now.

"So-so, you're a lesbian then?”

"Yes Harry. I've 'switched teams' as they say.”

"Since when?” I was just so shocked.

"Since over the summer...Does it bother you?” Michelle looked down at the ground and scratched the back of her neck as if she were bracing herself if I said it did and to be honest I was slightly offended that she’d think that way of me.

“No… No, I just never saw you with anyone over the summer.”

I could hear a sigh of relief escape Michelle’s lips as she turned to leave the front door.

I could have sworn she only hung out with me and the lads when Louis wasn't around. She hung out with us so much and we'd gotten so comfortable around her that we actually started counting her as one of the guys and calling her 'Mitch' or 'Mitchell' instead of Michelle. She always pretends to get cross with us when we called her that, but she can never keep a straight face long enough for us to believe that she doesn't like it.

"That doesn't mean I wasn't with anyone Harrow." Michelle winked at me and went back into her room coming out ten minutes later in joggers, a t-shirt, and Nike trainers with no backpack, one pencil, and a pen. Very prepared.

"Told you thirty minutes was more than enough time. Come now, Hazland.”

"...That's what she said." I smiled proudly at my own joke while Michelle gave me an unwavering a stale face.

"If I can say anything about growth in these last 4 years of our friendship it would be that you have made the least of it. You are the worst.”

“The pot shouldn’t call the kettle names. I thought it was funny." I grinned at her irritation grabbing all of my things in preparation to start the final year.

"Of course you did. Usually when you think it's funny that means it's not.”

Michelle exited out leaving me to lock the door to our new off campus apartment but I wanted to know more.

I followed behind her and asked her all types of questions. You can't just spring on people that you've switched sides and not expect them to want to know all of the details. In all honesty it wasn't a big deal as long as she was happy. Perhaps I was just being nosy, but after usually seeing her with mainly men my underlying question to her was probably, "Why?"

"I wasn't having that much luck with guys, Haz. One night I went out for a drink and a girl approached me so I figured, why the hell not? What could it hurt, really? Nothing. I went for it, and I enjoyed myself.”

She didn't have a great track record with guys after her split with Lou. She was so unhappy at one point, but then again when you bring home assholes and expect them to turn into stand up gents tears are to be expected. They always looked like gutter grunge to me but at the moment that seemed to be her type, so I didn't say anything. I've actually spent a lot of nights with Michelle rubbing her back as she cried against my shoulder and handing her the odd Kleenex to substitute for my shirt. Now that I think about it, last summer I really didn't see her with any guys. I guess when I saw her with girls I always assumed they were just her friends.

"So...What's it like?”

"What's what like?”

"You know the, um, the switch...What's it like?" Michelle threw her head back and laughed as we reached the main building for our senior seminar class.

"You mean what's it like going from cock to fanny? Is that what you're asking me?" I raised my eyebrows at her bluntness and I could feel heat rise in my cheeks. There's no beating about the bush with Michelle, not anymore anyway.

"Pretty much, yeah. That's what I'm asking. I’m just being nosy. If it’s too much you don’t have to-“

"Honestly," Michelle shifted her eyes back and forth as if she was going to tell me the secret to life in her next sentence, "It's so much better. Guys have no clue what they're doing down there. It's so refreshing to have someone know exactly what it is that I want, when I want it, and how I want it without explaining myself like I'm a bloody rubix cube. Did you know that there are three holes down there?” She asked me sarcastically as if we weren’t both on track for Med school.

"I resent that! And no…no I didn't know that.” I replied to sarcasm with sarcasm, grinning to myself much like the purple devil emoji. I surely did know all the holes.

"Why is that, Hazland? The resentment issue?”

We took our seats in the half full lecture room at the back of the class as we normally do. Michelle, myself and the rest of the gang have started many an early weekend by sitting in the back of the class, signing the attendance sheet and then leaving when the professors back was turned. I don't think I'll do that this year though. I have too many important tests to take if I want to be a doctor. I mean to pass the UKCAT exam the first time.

"Because I'm not half bad at it. At least I don't think I am... Never got a complaint before and I don't intend to.”

Michelle laughed loudly as the professor walked in, drawing attention our way. I smiled and waved at the onlookers before Michelle chuckled again grabbing my hand to stop me as the professor started to speak.

"Just because you never got a complaint doesn't mean that it wasn't said, Harrow. Nine times out of ten, if you don’t hear a complaint it’s because she cares more about your ego than her orgasm...It’s a shame really.”

I primped my lips at her and we continued to whisper to each other back and forth while we took notes on what the professor wrote on the whiteboard during the lecture. There would be two major papers in this class. Thankfully for the twenty page essay that we'll be assigned to do later on in the quarter we can have a partner. Michelle quickly leaned her head on my shoulder choosing me to work with when the paper isn't even due until the last week of class. I of course accepted her. Not only is she my friend but she's one of those annoyingly clever people. I've honestly never seen Michelle open or purchase one required textbook in all of our three years knowing each other in our university careers, but every time marks are posted her marks are always first class honors.

By the end of class, I ended up giving Michelle a hefty amount of paper for notes in seminar and for the other classes she had throughout the rest of the day. It baffles me as to how she's this born genius, but the most unorganized person that I know at the same time. Her only response to my annoyance was, "At least I have writing utensils.”

"Was that girl this morning your girlfriend?”

"No. I'm an admitting fuckgirl. What’s the saying? If you can’t beat them join them. I refuse to be part of the played group any more. It's our last year after all. I figure it's time to up the ante. Let monogamy go.”

I laughed and shook my head before another question came up. It was always something I wanted to know about lesbians but was too embarrassed to ask. It's not like I have many lesbian friends who I could turn to and get the information that most want to know. I'm never that embarrassed around Michelle though.

"So, erm, um...who's more dominant, when you're...You know?”

Michelle rolled her eyes at the question and I began to feel like an ass.

"When we're scissoring?" She spoke loudly making my thought about embarrassment wrong.

“Chelle!"

Michelle snickered knowing that she's put a vivid image in my head of her and the mystery blonde. I shake the thought before I get too carried away. I'm not supposed to get aroused with the thought of my best friend and another girl.

"Whoever feels like it whenever they feel like it? It was always a competition with men isn't it?”

“I don’t think it’s so much a competition as it is that some women don't like being on top?” I spoke presenting the idea causing her to pop her lips in disagreement.

“It’s never asked though is it? Sounds like male assumption to me. When I'm with a girl it's just flat out pleasurable for the pair of us. It's not about dominance, Harry. It's about getting off. Scissoring isn't a thing though, by the by.”

I nodded my head up and down still in awe that she of all people had taken a liking to someone who has the same bits as she does. It didnt' bother me like she thought it did earlier and I hope I didn't give her that impression by my line of questioning. Honestly these were just things I always wanted to know. I'm actually more hurt that scissoring apparently isn't a thing...They make it look so pleasurable in porn...I've been bamboozled.

"That's enough questions about me for now. What's happened to you?”

"What do you mean?"

"Harry full offense, but you were a slut when I first met you. You've since depleted in your numbers dramatically, except I'm sure the use of your hand. There were tissues in your bin the other night when I was cleaning the apartment and you don't have a cold…"

"I have h-hay fever Michelle! Allergies kick up at random times... Don't clean my room, I'll do it! It's personal in there. I knew I couldn't find any of my shit for a reason. And hang on-" I knotted my eyebrows playfully at her earlier slut comment.

I admit that I got around, but I moved very slowly. I've only ever had sex with seven or maybe nine girls in my twenty-one years give or take. I don't really keep count. It's not like they were souvenirs or notches on my belt for me to keep track of. All of them were an experience and I'm pretty sure I could name them all if I had to.

The first time happened my last year in 6th form or high school you could say and I didn't even know Michelle then. I got teased for that a bit, but I wasn't in a rush. The maybe other seven or eight happened here at uni but it wasn't as frequent as Michelle makes it out to be. The first two were in my first year when I met Michelle, one of them ended up being my girlfriend over a span of Five months. After that, I only was only ever active with a few more spaced out over the course of two and a half years, and they were regulars. That's not that bad when you think about it, especially for a guy my age at university.

"You were Haz! You had a new girl every weekend.”

"I did not! They were the same few people. They just kind of, alternated? You just never paid them any attention so you thought they were different every time. You're giving me more credit than I deserve."

Michelle rolled her eyes and continued to tease me.

"Whatever. What's happened then?”

"I don't know what you mean. I got invested in my studies. I have to take the UKCAT this year.”

"When is the last time you fun bit wrestled, willy waggled, played 'hide the helmet', rolled in the hay as they say?" I scrunched my nose and then thought about it and then got frustrated that I had to actually think about it.

“Yet I’m the worst? Who’s this they you speak of?" I asked her, squinting my eyes and tilting my head to the side.

"Everyone says those things when talking about sex. The more mature ones do anyway. Stop dilly dallying and answer the question. When is the last time you put your 'p' in a ‘v'?"

"S-spring? Early spring? Early Spring terms I guess…"

I could feel my cheeks turn red as I answered her question and Michelle bit her cheeks as an odd snorting noise left her nose while she tried to hold in her laughter. It's not that funny.

"You haven't fucked since the spring?" I laughed more at myself than at the shocked look on her face and shook my head no.

"No, not actual Spring. Early spring terms, so February...My birthday.”

"Harry, we're at the end of August here! You might as well count yourself as celibate. Not that I can blame the girls for dodging you. You still call a vagina a bajingo.”

I chuckled before I spoke, "The word vagina is honestly just as bad as bajingo. And this is coming from someone who has over a hundred words and phrases for sex.”

"A hundred and counting, Harrow.”

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to make the red in my cheeks less noticeable by rubbing my hand over my face. Spring term is when I decided to get more focused. I threw myself into clubs and my books to try to get more into school and buckle down. I'm even president of our graduating class now, prepared to serve on the Alumni council after graduation and I for one am proud of myself for getting this far. The greater half of my first three years here at university was spent at frat parties and in my bed sleeping class time away. I barely know how I made it through this far with decent grades, but I'm grateful that I did. Failure isn't an option.

Michelle stood on tip toe, leaning her head on my shoulder all the while soothingly rubbing my back. When I turned my head to face her, she batted her long lashes at me and made her big brown eyes look like one of those odd cartoon characters whose eyes cover more than half of their face.

"It's okay, Harry.”

"What is?”

"That you haven't gotten any pussy in over six months." Michelle has officially taken a back seat and let Mitchell take the wheel. This is how she got the nickname in the first place.

"Sod off Mitch! It's not like it's a bad thing-“

"Like shit it isn’t."

"I'm busy anyway.”

"With your hand and those bin tissues." I nudged Michelle off my shoulder feigning to be fed up with her masturbation jokes.

"Well if you weren't in my room you wouldn't have seen them! Gosh, you do something one time and then that's what people automatically associate you with!”

Michelle lets out another awkward snort that causes both of us to laugh out loud as we walk through the halls preparing to go our separate ways for the rest of the day.

"That was actually kind of funny Harry. Your jokes are getting a bit better.”

"Yeah, I know. They're funny when they're at my expense.”

"Aw, Hazland. You poor, poor serial masturbator. I'll see you later, yeah?”

"Yeah," I grinned at her before I turned to leave.

"Wait, how much later?” Michelle walked back towards me with one eyebrow raised to the sky as I tried to quickly map out my schedule for the day in my head before spitting it out to her.

"Uh, I get done with classes at half five, then I have a class meeting at six, and then I work at the first year halls front desk from seven to eleven thirty tonight. So I'll probably get home around midnight."

I contently sighed and grinned at Michelle as a look of pure horror took place of her once relaxed features. Her eyes seemed to widen larger after every additional activity that I listed, but I truly enjoyed remaining busy. Michelle's face remained contorted with displeasure before she spoke.

"So you're still coming to the pub later with the lads right?”

"Uh-oh. Chelle I don't know. I kind of forgot all about that. I don't think I will though, it's Monday and-“

"Ah, ah, ah, I'm not taking no as an answer. You promised and it's welcome week anyway. The pub is gonna be live! Just swing by and have one drink.”

“Nahhh I think I’m gonna-”

"One drink.”

“Sit this one out.”

"One drink, Harrow. One. Come on its tradition. You can't just bum out on tradition. This is our last year." She held up her tiny pointer finger to emphasize her point before she spoke again, this time in a small whisper, “One."

“No."

“Please?"

“No."

“Please?” Her lips pouted and her eyes turned sad trying her hand at manipulation.

"No, Chelle. No. Stop looking at me that way...Oh! Gah! Fine. I'll head to the pub when I get off work. One drink. One.”

Michelle bounced on her feet and clapped her hands in excitement making me shake my head before I turned to leave. Before I could make a real step Michelle called my name again.

"Hey, do you think I could borrow a pen? I seemed to have dropped mine."

155 notes · View notes

xsamsharons · 3 years

Text

come here often? - n. lantsov

pairing: nikolai lantsov x healer!reader.

genre/warning: fluff. mentions of injuries.

words: 1.6k

summary: in which nikolai and you aren't really close, until he falls on his face and you fall in love.

It was a rather slow night considering you were working as the main healer aboard a ship that had the prince of Ravka as its captain and also counted the three leaders of the grisha triumvirate as part of the crew. Night after night, people would come in though the makeshift hospital David had built into your room for you, injured by the weirdest things you would ever imagine, and go back out to no doubt keep endangering their lives on behalf of their country. Now, you were not saying that fighting for your country was an dishonorable thing to do, the opposite actually, but for the life of you, you just couldn’t seem to understand how someone could possibly willingly jump off a ship and into an ocean filled with monsters and mythical creatures, and not expect any injuries.

Speaking of, as of right now you found yourself attending the injuries of none other but the captain himself, he looked like he hadn’t slept in ages, and reeked of sea water and sweat. The first time you had met him you had been extremely nervous about actually using your powers on him, after all, you didn’t wanna be known as the healer who had permanently injured the future king. That day you had learned that Nikolai became pretty delirious every time he was suffering from physical pain given as he had had a broken nose and damaged rib, but he had claimed that ‘the other guy had it worse’. This would’ve be a normal enough to say, except in this case, the ‘other guy’ was an ancient mythical being that has been believed to only exist in Ravkan’s passed down stories. Ever since then, he has been ending up in your room almost every night, and with your unfortunate luck, he always seemed to arrive right in your shifts.

His face was framed by messy strands that had fallen from his red tailored hair, and on his chest were displayed a couple of gold necklaces that matched the buttons of his red coat. He had been talking to you and distracting you from your work ever since he arrived, and to make matters worse, he had to rest on one of the beds in your room all night just in case the fall he had taken on his face somehow caused more damage than you had originally thought.

“So, you come here often?” he asked with a crooked smirk and wandering eyes.

“You mean my room? Where I work?” you answered, rolling your eyes when he nodded his head and raised his eyebrows, implying it was a totally logical question. “Yes, I come here often. Not as often as you it would seem. Quite prone to hurting yourself, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I just like to visit my favorite healer.”

Ah yes, the flirting. It seemed it wasn’t enough for him to already bother you with his presence, but he also made it his mission to flirt with you as much as possible during his stay.

“Firstly, I’m the only specialized healer you know, so that line isn’t as smooth as you think it is.” you started, continuing to work on his nose. “Secondly, I would appreciate it if you could keep your advances to the minimum. We don’t want you to damage your brain trying to come up with more pick up lines, seeing as it requires a lot of effort for you to even get coherent sentences out.” you said sarcastically and watched his smirk grow.

“What is it going to take for you to finally admit you actually really like me?” he asked, and for the life of you, you could not understand how he’d come to that conclusion when all you’ve ever done is turn him down. Nonetheless, you figured you’d follow his game. If you were going to spend your whole night by his side, you could use some fun.

“Well, for one, I have never seen you not beaten up, or showered for that matter, so that would be a great start.” you said, tailoring his nose to look like Sturmhond’s crooked one after you finished tending to it.

“It’s not my fault I always end up here in the nights when we get ambushed.” he said in a voice that could almost be considered as a whine, and you found yourself smiling at how cute he sounded when he wasn’t being an asshole. Still, you furrowed your brows in response to something he’d hinted at.

“Ambushed? What, like by other crews?” you asked and he nodded. “So, you tailor yourself to not get ambushed for being a royal, but we still are ambushed even when you look like Sturmhond? What’s the point then?”

“It may be kind of useless now that everyone in Ravka knows us, but I like pretending to be someone else sometimes.” he shrugged, a look that you’d never seen on his face appearing. “It’s stupid, i know” he snorted, trying to shake off the weight of his sentence after you remained quiet for a few seconds.

“It’s not stupid.” you were quick to deny. “I get it, believe me. Growing up as a grisha in Fjerda, I wished every night before bed to have the ability to simply be reborn as someone else.” you admitted, missing the shocked look on his face.

“You are Fjerdan?” he asked.

“What? That’s not in my file?” you answered with a question of your own and he rolled his green eyes.

After you accused him of violating your privacy for reading your file and he defensively said that it was his job to know his crew, you spent a few minutes teaching him Fjerdan words and took advantage of the little knowledge he had about your native language by making fun of his tailored face, knowing he couldn’t understand what you were saying.

“So, how come you praise yourself so much about your aim but seem to get beaten up every night?” you asked.

“Hey! I am actually an incredible shot, thank you very much.” he replied, offense clear on his voice, making you snort.

“Can’t be any good if the only times I ever see you is when you are injured.” you said sarcastically, and he made a face that seemed a bit dramatic in your opinion.

“Not my fault you are trapped between these four walls every night.” he replied, and now it was your turn to act defensively.

“Excuse you! I have a life outside of the hospital.” you said in a light tone, to let him know you weren’t truly offended.

“People who have lives don’t need to remind other people that they do.”

“People who are great in battle don’t need to remind other people that they are.”

“Touché.” he said with a smirk.

You spent the next couple of hours talking to Nikolai about random topics, him not failing to deliver a pick up line from time to time, and the night was slowly but surely starting to slip out of your hands. Right now, you were back to him being the topic of conversation after you had ranted for a couple of minutes about how hard it was to have to grow up in Fjerda hiding who you were. As you teased him telling him he had to settle for captain of a ship because he wasn’t a good enough royal (a claim he denied thoroughly), he looked like he wanted to say something else, before Genya entered the room with a smirk on her face.

“If you two lovebirds are done flirting, you are needed up on the main deck. Sparring session gone wrong - again.” she informed you, rolling her eyes at the usual recklessness of the crew.

“Yes, ma’am.” you saluted sarcastically, before turning back around to face Nikolai again and check his injuries one more time.

“You should actually stay upstairs with us sometime, that way I can prove to you that I'm actually good.” he suggested once Genya was out of the room again. “Plus, the day should be sunny today so we’ll probably spar a lot.”

“You’ve flirted with me every night you’ve been here and the answer’s always been the same, what makes you think tonight is going to be different?”

“Oh, come on. I promise I'll shower and I will try to not get punched in the face. That way you get to see me showered and not injured, it’s a package deal you can’t just ignore.” he pleaded, in reference to your words from earlier.

“All right, maybe I'll stay upstairs after I finish fixing the crew up, and if I catch sight of a certain arrogant royal I know, I might stick around to watch a sparring session or two.” you gave in with a smirk, leading him to the door so he could leave you alone to fix your room up a bit before you went upstairs.

“I’ll see you when I see you then.” he said while bowing his invisible pirate hat, and walked away with a wink.

He left you standing at your desk watching as, just like every other night, he slipped past your door and out onto the main deck again. You watched as he caught up with Genya and said something to her with a smirk, though you couldn’t quite catch the words the spoke, and turned back around to tidy up your room with a stupid smile on your face.

bonus:

“Did it work?” Genya asked him with raised eyebrows and a smile, her question in reference to the plan they had come up with to get Nikolai to spend more time with you. It consisted of Genya tailoring his face to look like he had fallen on his face and busted his nose open.

“Like a charm.” Nikolai nodded, a smile similar to the one you were wearing back in your room appearing on his face.

a/n: making fun of sturmhond's nose is a personality trait and it's mine (and alina's)

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fanfic #sturmhond #nikolai #x reader #imagine #fic #fanfic #shadow and bone #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #rule of wolves #king of scars #siege and storm #ruin and rising

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darthwheezely · 3 years

Text

with you - f.w.

summary: based on the song ‘with you’ from ghost the musical

warnings: y’all this is a dead!fred fic strap in i’m so sorry :,), anger/resentment, a shit ton of death mentions

a/n: i love you, Freckles.

i picked up your shirts this morning

i don’t know why

The bedroom hadn’t been touched since May 2, 1998. A slew of clothes strewn about the room. A broken painting. A faint memory of him holding you. You didn’t know what was more messy, what happened to him or the world he left you with.

You started to clean.

every place we ever walked and everywhere we talked

i miss you

you never leave my mind

so much of you is left

behind…

Diagon Alley in September was a fever dream. It always was, children and their parents hopping from place to place to collect school supplies, teenagers wandering aimlessly to meet up with friends, go on dates, etc.

Diagon Alley in September was Fred’s favorite time of year.

You watched him at the shop light up and bounce about like a beach ball the moment a child asked for assistance, or even just carrying in an inventory box.

Fred would be frequently exhausted at the end of the day, but demand to take you out to the Cauldron for fish n chips, or buy you a butter beer (or four) or take you to Eeylops. You always agreed.

“One day we’ll be doing this for our own kids, Y/N,” he said softly, looking at the storefront for Wizard Wheezes, the tall animatronic lifting a rabbit from his hat slowing down for the night, even in the healthy chaos of Diagon Alley.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, the tears pooling in your eyes.

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You hated Diagon Alley in September.

you

took my days

with you

took my nights

with you

You had never really lived after Fred.

How does a person live after watching their person get crushed under a wall?

How does a person live after they run to said wall and scream, cry, beg for mercy from some being up in heaven for this to be a nightmare?

How does a person live after trying to push a wall far too heavy for force and being carried away by another while they cried so hard they lost air?

How were you supposed to live after Fred?

those unfinished conversations we used to have

still speak to me

“Y/N?” He shouted over the enveloping noise, spells and curses being fired so hard you’d think the ceiling would cave in.

“Fred, this isn’t a really good time-“ you yelled back.

“When we make it out of this-“

when he makes it out of this

“-I’m building us that nursery you hear me?”

No one built the nursery.

all this wishful thinking gets me nowhere

i can’t stay

though my heart is broken

it keeps breaking every day…

Sometimes, on a good day, you’d get the boom box out of the closet. You always tell yourself you’ll never touch it again, but there you are, touching it again.

That mixtape he made you will get fed through the muggle machine, and then it will spit out the song Crazy by Aerosmith.

“Come on, love, get up-“

“Fred, we’ve been assembling this bed frame we can’t just give up on it-“

“Say you’re leavin’ on a seven thirty and you’re head in’ out to Hoooooll-ay-wOOood - come on Y/N, bum up and get groovin’ with me!”

You two would dance until you were kissing and then he’d hold you standing up because to Fred Weasley, there was nothing on this planet but you.

You didn’t get through the whole song this time.

you

took my hopes

with you

took my dreams

with you

Kingsley Shacklebolt had left a message on the phone:

“Hey Y/N…I’m sorry to call you on a Monday night of all days - just busy lines everywhere else. I’m um…I’m really sorry but we um…we can’t have you as an Auror right now. We don’t want to ah - speed up your…your process right now. We know you’ve had a - hard - time recently and that job’ll only make it worse. Call me back if you want and maybe we can get you back in at Magical Accidents, they’ve got an opening. Alright. Well. See you, Y/N.”

i keep thinkin that you’ll be callin

everyone says that it’s all in my head

and i can’t accept it yet

You could’ve sworn you heard him.

You felt him in the shop (when George could force you to go.)

You saw him in every laugh and giggle little Dominique made.

Fred was everywhere and nowhere. It confused you, rage swelling in your chest like a hot air balloon only awaiting gas to take flight.

You had yelled. Told him going on that mission was selfish when you’d both been too risky for the Order as is.

“You can push me away all you want, Y/N-“

“Fred, stop-“

“No you need to listen to me for once in your life and it’s that i’m not going anywhere, I’m going to do that damn Seven Potters mission and I am coming home to you, do you hear me?”

You looked at him.

“I am always coming home, Y/N.”

“What a good joke, Fred, but where’s the punchline?”

i can’t comprehend this

and pretend that i don’t care

any place i wanna be

i wanna see you there…

“Hi, Freddie,” you hoarsely called to the barren-ness of the house.

“I hate sleeping here, did you know that? I feel way too close to telling myself that we’re okay, that I’m okay, kinda dumb isn’t it?”

No one answered.

“‘S alright, you always did hate the serious stuff. I’m just heading out to Gin and Harry’s for the night okay? I promise I’ll come back tomorrow. Will you be here?”

No one answered. You smiled, tears falling on your lips.

“That’s okay, I understand.”

You choked out a laugh and shrugged. “I love you! Have a good night, sweetheart.”

You shut the door.

you

took my life

with you

took my world

with you…

•••

taglist! @lumosandnoxwriting @billyhxrgrove @wandsandwheezes @harrysweasleys @fredweasleyisart @luvfrommars @luvshack @babyjordy @jillys-feral-fandoms @vibraniumwing @vixen @goddessofdawns @sagittarius-flowerchild @sinfulweasley @animprxperworld @daedreamss @lilypad-55449 @i-love-scott-mccall @omghufflepuff @vivianweasley @wh0reforthemarauders @amrtxntias @sunrisefairy @theorangedrummer @loony-loopy-lupinn @band--psycho @melmalone

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred and george

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

prompt request! “I’ve never been anyone’s anything.” “You’re everything to me.” - with Frankie 🥺

I hope you enjoy! I am so soft for Frankie!

Frankie x Fem!Reader

No Warnings

»»————-　♡　————-««

This was the hardest, no scratch that, worst time of the year.

It wasn't that you hated the holidays, no they weren't so bad themselves, it was just...everything else.

It was hard to constantly smile and be happy when you were single and alone during the holidays. Again. Year after painstaking year.

The whole single thing wasn't the worst part either, it was just...the fact that everything seemed to remind you of that seemingly the world was coupled up while you were by yourself. That and the fact that every family member in the world seemed to ask the same questions every year at your holiday gatherings.

Who are you seeing?

When are you settling down and getting married?

When are you going to have children?

The whole lot of it was enough to exhaust you, mentally, spiritually, and physically and often maybe you contemplate avoiding you any holiday gathering all together. Yet you still managed to drag yourself to them and get through it all, plastering on a fake smile as you politely answered their questions. Your answers were always short and to the point, but you still remained polite...despite the fact that you wished the ground would swallow you up whole.

Maybe this year you would just skip everything. But then you'd have to answer as to why you weren't with the family. Shit.

It was a catch-22.

But there was another idea that quickly crossed your mind. It wasn't the best, you probably should have just let it go, but something inside you was just nagging at you and telling you to do it.

Before you knew it, your phone was in hand and you had dialed Frankie's number. Sometimes you were beyond thankful for your best friend.

"Hey bee," he answered after a few rings, his voice immediately soft and gentle, causing your heart to settle and a sense of peace wash over you.

"Hi Frankie," immediately a sense of unease and nerves washed over you as you realized just exactly what you were asking of him. You closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh and decided to just do it. It was now or never, "can I ask you for a favor? Kind of a big one..."

"Shoot," you could hear a note of concern in his voice as he came to the conclusion that something was up, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you swallowed the lump in your throat, "I just...will you come with me to my family's holiday party next weekend?"

"Of course," he laughed lightly; it was a weird thing of you to ask him or completely out of the blue, he would often go with you to family things.

"Umm, there's a catch," you blurted, "I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend."

"Oh. Oh?" a stunned silence met you on the other end.

"Yeah," you feigned a laugh, hoping he wouldn't suddenly back out, "its just that...I don't know if I can handle another year of everyone asking me why I'm single and whatnot. They already know you and love you so it would be easy."

"Okay," he answered after a few awkward, tense beats of pause, "yeah, we can...we can definitely do that."

"Thank you so much, Frankie," you let out a sigh of relief, "I owe you big time. I love you so much!"

"Yeah...just let text me all the details later," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "umm, I have to go now. I'll talk to you later."

"Sounds good," you already felt so much better, "talk to you soon!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time your family Christmas party rolled around, you were feeling an odd mixture of emotions. Happy, because you wouldn't be alone and your best friend would be by your side. Relieved that you could dodge the annoying questions from your family. And yet, you were also feeling a sense of...nerves?

As you prepared to go, taking a long hot shower and indulging in some self care an odd sense washed over you. Slipping on the pretty dress you'd picked out, hoping Frankie would like it too, you suddenly found yourself nervous realizing that he was the cause of your nerves. Although only posing as your boyfriend for the night, part of you couldn't help but wonder would it be like if he really was your boyfriend. You wished he was; you wished you could call him yours. But no; he was just your handsome friend that you were hopelessly in love with.

Bummer.

As you finished doing your hair and make up to just how you liked it, a knock came at your door before Frankie opened it and announced himself.

"In here!" you called out to him as you listened to his heavy footfalls, taking a deep breath to steady and remind yourself that was just your best friend. Nothing more and nothing less.

But as you sat finished putting in your earrings, you heard the creak of the floor followed by a small, "wow."

"Hi Frankie," you turned and offered him a smile before almost losing whatever bit of cool you had at the sight of him. He was handsome as ever, dressed in a well fitting pair of pants and button up, his dark curls styled elegantly and not hidden under his signature hat for once. He was perfection.

"Wow yourself, Frankie," you beamed at him, "you look wonderful - handsome."

"This?" a tinge of pink flushed his cheeks as he tried to play off your compliment, "its nothing much...but thank you."

"I'll just be a minute and then we can go," you went to back to the mirror and studied yourself, making sure you looked exactly how you wanted. It was hard to keep your eyes off of Frankie; he looked so handsome and sweet it was almost hard to define the line between remembering he was a friend and wanting nothing more than to have him. Instead you tried to focus on your reflection, "thanks again for doing this Frankie. I owe you big time, maybe dinner and movie marathon this weekend? I'll even let you pick the movies."

"Yeah," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "that sounds good. Umm...can I ask you something?"

"Anything, you know that."

"Why me? Why do you even need a fake boyfriend to bring? You've gone alone or with me as friends..." his question made your heart stop as you looked up and met his eyes in the mirror. He looked just as confused as you felt.

"Firstly, why not you? You're my best friend, and we both know you're a total catch," you turned around and held out your hand as if to say obviously, "and I dunno. I just can't handle another year of being ambushed with questions about why I'm single and how I'll end up as a spinster. I'd just like it to be different for one year...to feel like I actually mean something to someone. Even if it just for a night."

"What do you mean?" an offended and upset look crossed his features as he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you to face him. You said too much. Too damn much and now you felt like a fool that was just about to cry, "do you have any clue how much you mean to me? And so many others?"

"I know, obviously you're my best friend," you feigned a weak laugh as you tried to work your way around this conversation, "I lo- care about you too. Tremendously. But I mean...I've been never been anyone's anything. I've never had someone love and care for me, its always been a boyfriend or so here and there but nothing real. And I know its stupid to be so upset about it, but for just one night I want to feel like maybe I could be that for someone. Maybe one day I will...I dunno, Frankie. I probably sound like an idiot. Either way...I just...thank you."

Before you could move away or do anything, Frankie gently, ever so tenderly, reached up and wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. You allowed your gaze to meet his and found yourself staring at wide, nervous eyes.

"I can't believe you think that about yourself little bee," he whispered quietly, "you are everything to me. Everything."

"Frankie-"

"Listen, please, just let me say what I have too or I'm afraid I never will," he slid his hands down your arms and let himself inhale and exhale deeply. There was a best of silence before he steadied himself, "I am so in love with you. I have been for a long time...I just never...I couldn't bring myself to say it. But I have never just thought of you a friend."

"You don't have to-"

"I mean it," he insisted as he took your hand and pulled you closed to him, "I wish I would have told you a long time ago. But I couldn't just listen to you say these things when they're not true."

"Frankie..." you paused as you looked at your entwined hands, contemplating your next action. You brought your other hand to his cheek, gently touching his skin. There was a moment of hesitation before you decided to dive right in and kiss him.

It was a slow, sweet thing as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your frame against his. A hand was around your waist and the other cradled the back of your head as you carded a hand through his dark locks. It was like there was no learning curve, no trying, just like it was meant to be. When you pulled apart, both of you reluctantly, you couldn't help the megawatt grin that was on your face. The matching one on Frankie's face was enough to send butterflies fluttering in your belly.

"I umm...I love you, Frankie," you stated the obvious as the two of you laughed, "I guess that's kind of obvious, huh?"

"I like hearing it," he admitted as you felt a flush of warmth run over your face, "why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Nervous," you both admitted at the same time. You shook your head, wishing you hadn't been such a fool for so long. But before you could lament anything, Frankie quickly captured your lips for another kiss, this one almost shy, but still saccharine.

"You better stop because I could get used to that," you teased as he just grinned.

"I will kiss you every day then," he promised, "and then some."

"I'd like that," you agreed, "I'd like that a lot."

"You're not the only one," he reached for your jacket and helped you put it on, "but we better go before we're late. You know how your mom gets."

"Is it bad I don't want to go? Can we just stay here instead?"

"Don't you want to go and introduce everyone to your boyfriend?" he said with another gentle peck, "I'm sure they're dying to know who it is."

"Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" you agreed as you helped straighten his shirt, "are you free after? Tonight?"

"For you? Always, mi vida," he promised as he kissed the top of your head, "now let's go and have fun. Everything else can wait for later."

"Hey Frankie?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you," you whispered softly as he seemed to melt at your words.

"I love you too, bee. Always and forever."

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #i love him so much #soft hours start now and end never 🥺

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