#so might as well drink it i guess it was 30 bucks anyway and i dont have any fucking moneyyyyyyyy so what am i
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who even give a fuck. yknow
#getting drunk before work because who gives a shit ^_^d#yesterday was real fucking bad so im thinking like why am i even fucking trying you know none of these assholes even talk to me#unless its to go ermmmm i cant help noticing your department isnt achieving infinite growth when will you guys stop sucking#shit? just curious yhaha and if they want to talk about me they go behind my back and ask other people why im cutting#which a) i wear short sleeves this isnt a secret im keeping and 2) fuck you for deciding its your business and then NOT EVEN#ASKING /ME/ but whatever thy want to get pissy at me for their own failure to communicate fucking let them i dont care#ive been killing myself for this stupid job for a year now i wake up in the morning and my first thought is how bad my knee hurts#im one of the best we've got and what do i have to show for it no one fucking talks to me i dont care#no one will go 'hey did you get fucking sloshed before coming here' becaus etheyre scared of talking to m e for some reason#i literally dont know but if they ask then like who fucking cares this isnt on me i dont feel human doing this job i dont feel like a perso#no one treats me like one unless i waste time quote unquote to not do my job and talk to people who like care if i live or die or whatever#so like who fucking cares even ill do whatever i want ill get drunk before work ill do shit at my job ill talk to someone i love fuck it#whatever!!! should have acted like i was a person instead of ignoring the people youre throwing into a meatgrinder for profit i guess#who fucking cares!#already had my MOTHER get weird about me buyng booze for reasons that are none of her fucking business and that she#wouldnt know the details of anyway if she hadnt been snooping because i have no privacy and no space of my own lol#so might as well drink it i guess it was 30 bucks anyway and i dont have any fucking moneyyyyyyyy so what am i#who am i fucking KIDDINGGGGGGGGGG lol its fucked its all fucked!!! whatever!!! who give a shit!!! nothing fucking matters
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SaL anon here my friend, happy to wish us luck on the upcoming episode, on this very normal day where the 911 PR team absolutely did not choose to unleash chaos. Here I was just hoping to enjoy the conclusion of the cruise disaster saga, especially after last week's heartstopping Bathena performance, but nooooo, I won't even get to enjoy 1 millisecond of satisfaction before I'm gnawing my arm off waiting for next week's episode and an explanation for why Buddie are *waves hand nonsensically at stills* THAT.
Anyway, I know I should remember the mantra about getting our hopes up but I can't help it for tonight, the last two episodes have been so incredibly solid and everything I love about 911 that I can't help but raise the bar from where it was (somewhere around the Earth's core) to something at least knee high. So cheers friend, here's hoping any post episode drinking is optional, not necessary 🍷🍷🍷!!!
Not me hitting post limit before 4:30 in the afternoon 🙄. This has been me for HOURS
Sorry I have fandom shit going on Tumblr, and not a lot of actual work to keep me busy. I think the post limit should be at least 500 posts a day. Just let me be unhinged!! I even scheduled some posts out to different days to avoid this but here we are. 🙃 I need 911 and FHJY to not air on back-to-back days for realsies.
I didn't even catch those stills at first since my app is still not working so I can't actually see my dash so I was just chillin in the d20 tag when I suddenly noticed 911 was trending and decided to check what was up and WHOOOOO BOY! What IS all that?! Why are they like this?! They're killing meeeee!
ANYWAY
That mess is for next week. This cruise disaster arc is ABSOLUTELY a veeeeeerrrry close second to the tsunami arc for me. That one edges it out because we got to see more of everyone on the team doing rescues while this one (DESERVEDLY) focused more on Bobby and Athena, but MAN was it gripping television! I laughed, I cried, I legit clapped and cheered when Buck and Eddie showed up to get Bobby and the little boy, I mourned for Wes the security guard, it was all SO, so, so good. And we got badass Bobby on rescue duty!! Athena taking charge and taking NO shit from anyone! We got the firefam being a FAMILY which includes bickering, tattling, gentle ribbing, and having each other's backs because you know each other better than anyone else. I had a GREAT time.
I know we have been pretty good at keeping our expectations down but for right now, I'm felling a little more confident in the show as a whole to deliver good firefam stuff so I'm raising that bar a little bit. As for Buddie, well. I guess we'll see? I'd be lying if I said I was excited about seeing them dating other people AGAIN, no matter if it's supposed to "set the stage" or whatever for Buddie because I just think going the route we SHOULD have had after the shooting. Getting them both keeping their feelings realizations secret from each other and then having a third party confession come out with Chim/Maddie and Hen each getting one side of it and then accidentally cluing each other in has a better feel for me, especially with the delicious flavor of Eddie still having a gf at the moment. But I'm reserving judgement FOR NOW, on how it could ultimately play out for Buddie. It might be fine in the end with how it all comes together, but I'm not going to "settle" for just being happy if Buck comes out and taking whatever relationship we are given instead of the one that's been built up since season 2. But I'm also not throwing in the towel because we don't know where it's going yet. I'm firmly on the "fine but I'm going to complain the whole time" train at the moment with regards to Buck finally dating a man but for some god-forsaken reason it's not Eddie. (At least we lucked the FUCK out and someone else gave AK a job so we don't have to put up with THAT nonsense again.)
For now, I'm going to revel in the show ABSOLUTELY coming back with a bang and feeling like the 911 and firefam we all know and love and have DEEPLY missed. The difference between this arc and that blimp emergency is LAUGHABLE. Bless Tim for coming back and giving us this incredible arc and really showcasing Angela and Peter and the Bathena relationship. I'm excited to see what's next!
#911#my sweet nonnie friends#sleeping at last anon#i am SO TIRED of post jail!#every week now!#just let me spiral in PEACE#also#i NEED the app to get fixed#i am *languishing*#ANYWAY#i'm back get ready to be SICK of me
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mx. amatullah PLEASE bless us with your rosé opinions
rosé, as a cultural phenomenon, is AWFUL because it is overhyped, expensive, and largely tastes like shit. why was it hyped so much? well why is anything? it came at the right time under the right circumstances, it was cute and photogenic and allegedly tasty and it took the united states by storm (cannot speak for any other country). and as a result suddenly EVERYONE wanted to make a rosé, even if it wasnt under the best or even Fair conditions they knew it would sell and it did! this is largely where it gets its reputation for tasting so bad lmao bc people jumped on the trend, which continued to perpetuate the idea that it was good. viscious cycle really!
i worked at target from 2018 to 2019 and saw the ultimate rise of the 💕Rosé All Day💕 culture before my very eyes, with statistics that i ended up losing when i replaced my phone (didnt ever think i would need them so i didnt bother to recover them...oh the irony). my store went from having rosé in stock, to having a couple t-shirts towards the front of the apparel section, to having a Full Standing Set Up full of not only rosé, but cups/glasses, t shirts, makeup bags, and tons of other shit i cant even remember. this was also the time of boxed wine so most of the wine on the display was in cute lil boxes. anyways i would occasionally ask people buying rosé if it was any good and the general consensus was: eh. its okay.
baffling!! a drink that people largely thought was mid got so ridiculously popular bc...everyone thought that everyone else liked it i guess? but that popularity led to the scamminggggg. you should never buy a rosé thats 30 bucks or, heaven forbid, more unless half the money is for international shipping. rosé is one of the cheapest wines to make, but if youre someone who saw a random influencer drinking it by the pool and you know nothing about alcohol...well you might think that something so popular must be better quality if it is more expensive. which to be fair is not a necessarily incorrect assumption to make. but it really is cheap to make (which is why so many companies jumped on the bandwagon despite some never even making rosé before) and the popularity of #roséallday led to people buying overpriced shit that tasted like...well, shit!
do not get me wrong, i know there are Good rosés out there, there is a reason it was seen in such a positive light. now there are tons of places you can buy good rosés, and equally many where you can buy bad ones. but the cultural iconography of rosé and not necessarily the drink type itself is what bugs thee fuck out of me even though the rosé zeitgeist has largely fizzled out.
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Friday 3rd March 2023
Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong
Under the shade of a Coolibah tree
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled
"You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me"
Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong
Up jumped the swagging and grabbed him with glee
And he sang as he stowed that jumbuck in his tucker bag
"You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me"
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me
And he sang as he stowed that jumbuck in his tucker bag
"You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me"
Down came the squatter mounted on his thorough-bred
Up came the troopers one, two, three
"Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag?
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me"
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me
"Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me"
Up cut the swagging and jumped into the billabong
"You'll never catch me alive" said he
And his ghost may be heard if you pass by that billabong
"Who'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me?"
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me
And his ghost may be heard if you pass by that billabong
"You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me"
Lexicon:
Matilda: Bundle of possessions
Swagman: Transient labourer
Billabong: Stagnant pool
Billy: Cooking pot
Jumbuck: Sheep
Tucker: Food
Swagging: Travel with your possessions in a bundle.
Well as you might have guessed, we went to the Waltzing Matilda Museum in Winton. This is a stunning new building, 2018, which replaced the old one that as you might correctly assume burned down in 2015. Pretty much all of the memorabilia displayed was lost with the exception of some items that had been off-site at the time. However, they have recovered the situation extremely well and now have a very presentable exhibition. Andrew Barton (Banjo) Paterson wrote the lyrics to WM in 1895 when in Winton he heard a rendition of 'Thou Bonnie Wood O'Craigielea'. Oh that old one you say. Anyway he rather liked the tune and said he could put some words to it. A friend at the event Christina McPherson said she could play it to him on the zither and soon after Banjo overheard the incident of a swagman and the jumbuck connected with the term Waltzing Matilda and so the song was born. It has gone on to be recorded by over 500 artists and been universally adopted by misty eyed Aussies as a national tune ever since.
Opals, Australia's national gemstone, were first discovered in Winton in 1888 by George Cragg. Found in sandstone and ironstone sites, this location has the highest concentration in Queensland. Some 95% of the world's commercial grade opals are produced here. To celebrate this fact, Martine bought some opal earrings.
The museum covered a lot of ground as it has taken on a Winton theme. Qantas was born here in 1920 and it's first flight took off from here. We all know of course that the name comes from Queensland and Northern Territories Aerial Service.
Well you would need to cough up the necessary 30 bucks to see how much the museum contains but there's great history here of life in the outback, sheep shearing, early settlers, Aboriginal territory, troops going to WWI, railway memorabilia, engine and vintage carriage....... A vast impressive collection and Waltzing Matilda everywhere and it would be impossible not to leave that place without humming Banjo's immortal work.
Now all this excitement superceded what had gone before. We had begun our town walk at the Musical Fence. Now I'm sure a budding percussionist could have had a field day on the collection of squashed tins, drums and bars but it wasn't quite what we expected, so moving on...
It might have been possible to pop into the Machinery and Truck Museum but it was closed due to it being out of season.
The next eclectic item I suppose was Arno Grotjahn's Wall. I imagine Mrs Grotjahn had one day shouted at Arno to go do something with all that junk in the yard. What she meant was for him to get a skip and get shot. He interpreted this is be an eager expectation of him building a wall out of it all. History fails to record her response to the finished boundary wall as to whether it was what she had in mind. I guess these Germans have different criteria.
Despite a dusting of very light rain, but humid conditions Martine managed 30 25m lengths in the council pool again to cool off from the excitement.
To celebrate our last night here we went back to our favourite pub for a meal, a XXXX and a Great Northern Beer. Tomorrow we shall be travelling again, leaving behind a place we rather like and a hotel that Lyndon B. Johnson 36th U.S. President stayed in just down the corridor. We'll take the Nissan this time to Barcaldine and be back on the SB. Two bottles of which shall accompany us.
ps. We can't get our head around the tourist seasons here. A lot of places remain closed here until the peak season starts in April. The swimming pool on the other hand is going to close now because it is end of season.
pps. The lady who runs the pool said she had resigned from the police because she couldn't stand the politics of the job. Going touring.
ppps. LBJs visit was in 1942 long before he became president. His flying fortress in which he was travelling came down to be refuelled so naturally he stopped in our hotel.
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Cooler; Bucky Barnes x Reader
New Girl Inspired for @madjazzhatter
“I’m telling you, Buck, I’m not your cooler. Sure, a few times I might’ve been the reason you didn’t get some that once or twice, but 99% of the time it’s your own damn fault, Barnes.” It’s all true. He’s proving her point just by being himself right now, making one of those over the top faces he has and adjusting the collar of his coat. It’s not even his coat, she reminds herself.
“You’re both right, actually. Y/n, you have, on occasion, proven to be a terrible wingwoman. Purely awful. Bucky, you too have the tendency to, uh, discourage people from talking to you. I mean, you’re always frowning. You have a great smile, man, learn how to use it.” Bucky reaches across the sink and hits Steve upside the back of his head.
“Come on guys, we had a good vibe going. Let’s not have any infighting before tonight. Bucky, are you absolutely positive that that’s what you want to wear?” All three of them are standing in from of the bathroom mirrors, presumably making themselves look better to go to the bar at 5:30 in the afternoon, which is actually not that early for them.
“This coat makes me feel sexy.” Bucky does an awkward spin move, throwing up finger guns at himself in the mirror. Y/n rolls her eyes dramatically, patting Sam and Steve on the back before walking towards the door.
“Yeah, nothing says I’m a creep like a man in a women's trenchcoat,” add Sam. Y/n leans against the frame of the door, watching her boys make fools of fixing themselves in the mirror.
“So, just to be clear, you’re saying I can’t come tonight, right?”
They look at each other and shake their heads. “That’s fine, I have a lot of…things I need to do today anyway. You know, spoons to clean, yarn to yarn.”
“Gotta get that yarn yarned,” says Sam, practicing his facial expressions in the mirror and holding a thumbs up in the direction of y/n.
“See? You’re going to have a much better time here than you would have at the stinky old bar! We’re doing you a favor.” Bucky pats y/n on the head, earning himself a confused look.
She turns away from them, exiting the room just in time to hear Steve say, “You still work at that bar, Buck.”
They’re home within five minutes, and y/n is left to her own devices. There are times when she wishes that she had more nights like this, alone and able to do what she wants. Right now is not one of those times. It’s not that she doesn’t have things she can do, there just aren’t any things that she wants to do.
After fucking around for a little while, a noise at the door startles her. Her mind immediately goes to danger, causing her to call Peggy, even though she’s on a date, and Bucky, even though she was told that she was usually the downfall of his fun nights.
For some reason, Bucky answers his phone, but he sounds pissed about it. “Buck, you need to come home, there’s something at the door.”
“There’s nothing at the door, y/n. You know it’s an old building, maybe it has something to do with the pipes. You wouldn’t be worried if you listened to pipe talk during our loft meetings.”
“Those are boring. I’m surprised you listen to those talks.”
“They make me feel more like a man.” He pauses before continuing,”You know you’re being a cooler right now, right? Do you see it now?”
Yes, she thinks. She definitely see’s it now. “Just come home.”
Bucky, Steve, Sam, and two girls that are along for the ride arrive at the apartment. They find y/n curled up on the couch with their baseball bat, and she almost hits Steve when he comes into the room.
“So, this is our roommate y/n,” introduces Bucky. “And this is the place. Bathroom is down that hall… and so is basically everything else. Y/n, could you help me find some, uh, bottlecaps in the your room.”
“Sure, what kind? I have twist offs and the pop kind.”
“You know I’m not actually here about bottlecaps- actually it doesn’t matter. Listen to me. That girl out there, for some reason, is sexually attracted to sad men. You understand now fantastic that is for me.”
“Yeah, wow, that’s a goldmine. Now I feel partially responsible for your sex tonight, so I have an idea.” Bucky and I call everyone to meet in front of the couches, a cooler of beer beside us.
“The game is true american, but with a sexy new twist. Clinton rules! Everyone pick your interns and remember-“
The loft mates join in at this part, “The floor is lava!”
“Wait, this doesn’t make any sense. What are the rules? How do you play this?” The girl that Bucky brought asks.
“It’s easy. The floor is lava, doves versus hawks, the couch is the Mason-Dixon Line, no cabinets,” explains Steve helpfully, choosing the blonde, Carrie, as his partner.
“This doesn’t make any sense.” Vanya, the girl that Sam brought, is sitting on the table and drinking, definitely not playing, but Sam seems happy talking to her.
The game goes as smoothly as a game with no rules can go. The loft is a mess, and most of us are missing various articles of clothes, which is a good sign for Bucky. Y/n, Steve, Carrie, and Y/n are all sitting at the table, different levels of intoxicated, trying to figure out who has to go behind the hallway door and kiss, a Y/n original idea that she’s positive will fix her spot as not a cooler. On the count of three they all put up numbers on their foreheads, chaos enduring between Steve and Bucky, both telling Carrie different numbers.
In all the confusion, on three, Y/n and Bucky end up with the same number, meaning that they have to kiss.
“Shit,” swears Bucky.
Y/n and Bucky look at each other, and say again, “Shit.”
“No, come on guys, let us out of here. This isn’t what I meant when I said kiss, I obviously meant, uh, a metaphorical poetic kiss. Don’t leave me back here with him!”
“Well,” says y/n, leaning back against the wall, sliding down to the floor next to Bucky, with his head in his hands. “I guess we should do this, then. They aren’t going to let him out of here anytime soon.”
“Yep. Let me just-“ Y/n stands up, while Bucky stays on the ground, crouching.
“What are you doing? I’m up here.”
“I thought we were staying on the ground.”
“Fine. Let’s get this over with. Pucker up, Mr. Buck.” As soon as it’s out of her mouth, y/n grimaces, regretting a lot of things.
“Come on, don’t do that. You’re making it weirder than it already was.”
“Yeah, I regretted it immediately. I think this does prove that I’m your cooler.”
“Yeah, you think? It’s okay, Steve’s just gonna tell her about his heartbroken Peggy-struck heart. This might be the only time that he wants to be sadder than me.” They spend a few minutes arguing back and forth about various unimportant details, like if they’re going to stand or sit, where they’re going to put their hands, and if Bucky should be so nervous about this. At some point in time Bruce, y/n’s boyfriend, came along and decided to join the rest of them outside.
Finally, after the constant chanting of “kiss kiss kiss kiss” from the hallway to get to her, y/n says, “Come on, Buck, just be a man and kiss me!”
“No! Not like this.” His eyes go wide when he realizes what he just said, and he starts shaking his head before I even get my question out.
“What do you mean, not like this?” Bucky doesn’t give an answer, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He starts gesturing around wildly, trying to find something to say.
“No, I didn’t- it’s just not, like, you know- not like that.”
“Yeah, I’m out.” Before y/n can get another word in, Bucky is climbing out of the window. Without thinking, y/n yells at them to open the door, which they do. Steve and Sam are freaking out over Bucky, asking him all these questions, and Bruce is busy laughing about how Bucky would rather climb out of a window than kiss her. Luckily, Peggy is still thereto try and help her understand what’s happening.
Things dial down after that. Steve and Sam give Bucky a firm talking to and a night to think of over, and y/n goes to sleep alongside Bruce. She’s awoken in the middle of the night gm the same scratching that she heard earlier, so she goes to investigate.
Bucky must’ve heard it too, because he’s right there beside her with the baseball bat. Apparently their new neighbor has a dog that’s been causing all of the problems. It’s also the place where Bucky’s coat was supposed to go. As far as their neighbors go, it’s not the worst interaction they’ve had. This one only thinks they wear other people’s clothes and carry around bats.
“So, I guess you didn’t need to come over. Sorry I ruined your night.” They walk back to the hallway together, arms brushing against each other.
“Nah, it was probably for the best. French coat Bucky had a lot of unearned confidence, lot of random dance moves.”
They stand facing each other, y/n looking up into Bucky’s eyes. “Goodnight Buck.”
“Night, Y/n.” Bucky leans in, encouraged by y/n leaning in too. They’re lips touch, the kiss passionate and all at once. Bucky’s hands are in her hair, and as soon as they break appear she misses the touch.
“I meant a little something like that.”
This was so much fun to write! I love to concept of a new girl based au, feel free to send more of this or any other requests.
#nxvna writing#nxvna post#bucky barnes#bucky fic#bucky x you#bucky x reader#new girl au#marvel fic#tfatws fic#bucky imagine#reader x bucky barnes#you x bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james barnes
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Tuesday: Crossing The River
note: here we go, part two of my 'A week with Chris' drabble series (part one here) again, COVID doesn’t exist bc this is my escape from reality
I wrote a bit more today. enjoy :)
words: 1.2 k
warnings: none
(Monday, 8:33 pm)
Hi, this is Chris. Meet me tomorrow morning, 9:30 am, at NY City Hall. I’ll bring coffee, you bring your walking shoes. I’ll see you there.
+++
(Tuesday)
Getting up at 8 am wasn’t exactly your preference when you had a day off, but the way to City Hall took its time, especially considering the location of your apartment in Upper Manhattan.
You walked the short distance from the metro station, and when you arrived, Chris was already waiting for you. He was bundled up in a coat to fight off the chilly morning air. You had never seen him in anything else than his work attire so at first, you were a bit perplexed, it was almost like witnessing an animal in the wild. Still, he looked rather cute, but what looked even better were the steaming cups of coffee he was holding.
“Good morning.” You greeted him, stifling a yawn and grabbing the offered drink. You gulped down two huge sips, without caffeine you weren’t a good company at all in the morning.
“Not an early riser, huh?” Chris laughed. “Don’t worry, my plans for today will wake you up in no time.”
“So, where are we going?” You asked, feeling slightly more present now, the coffee and fresh air had done the trick.
“You and I.” Chris said. “Are going to cross the East River. We have this really nice thing called the Brooklyn Bridge, maybe you’ve heard of it.”
You rolled your eyes at him, he was being rather cheeky considering the early hour.
“Very funny. Doesn’t that take forever.” You groaned. Walking wasn’t your number one hobby, and from where you were standing now, Brooklyn looked like it was an eternity away.
“It takes about an hour, each way.” Chris replied, and as he saw your shocked expression, he continued “Come on, that’s no distance at all! We can take a break once were on the other side, and then we go back. The way back is much more impressive because your facing the skyline.“
So he was planning on doing both ways. Great. Accepting your faith, you quickly emptied your coffee, silently praying that the walking shoes you had chosen were as comfortable as they looked.
+++
The walk was actually really enjoyable. There was soft spring breeze in the air and the sun was shining, creating bright reflections on the East River below you. You took several stops to take pictures, and Chris even reluctantly agreed to pose for a selfie.
You were talking animatedly about everything and anything, falling into a slow, but steady pace next to each other. Chris was still slightly annoyed about having to take the entire week off, but you tried to cheer him up.
“Look on the bright side, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy this beautiful day in such great company if you had to do the show tonight.” You joked, and he smiled down at you.
“I have to admit, the company is pretty good.”
Your heart did a little jump at his words.
+++
After fifty minutes, you arrived at the Brooklyn-sided exit of the bridge. Chris led you down the pedestrian walkway and around some corners, until you arrived in a beautiful park located directly at the waterfront.
“And this.” Chris exclaimed. “Is what we came for.”
You knew exactly what he meant. Stretched out before you was the most beautiful, picturesque view of the Manhattan skyline you had ever seen.
“This looks like a damn postcard.” You whispered, more to yourself, but Chris heard you anyway, laughing in agreement.
“It’s the best perspective you’ll get. I love the skyline; every building has a story.” He replied, looking across the river with an almost wistful expression on his face.
“Come on then, Mr. Tour Guide, I walked all the way here, now I want to hear some of those stories.”
“You’re quite demanding.” He chuckled. “Alright. You see the grey, slim one over there.” Your eyes followed to where his finger was pointing.
“That’s 8 Spruce Street.“ he explained. "They built it in 2011, there are apartments in there, offices, even a school and a kindergarten. Imagine, the kids don’t even need to leave the house.” He grinned at his own joke.
You studied the skyscraper, and the way the sunlight got reflected by its countless windows. “It’s beautiful.”
Chris shrugged. “To me, it’s cold. It has no personality, no history. If you look a bit more to the left, the white one with the green roof? That’s the Woolworth building, it got built in 1913. Back then, the owner paid the whole 13,5 million bucks for the project in cash, imagine that. It’s neo-gothic, if we were closer I could show you all the little details on the facade. See, that’s the kind of architecture I like. I hate how they’re plastering the city with those soulless glass towers. But I guess that’s the course of time.”
Both of you were silent for a second, and you looked at Chris before bursting into an uncontrolled fit of giggles.
“Oh my god, you just sounded like such an old man, I am so sorry.” You snickered, trying to stop laughing.
Chris gave you a hard glare, and for a moment you felt dread in your stomach, fearing that you might have offended him.
“Oh my god, Chris, I’m so-“
He grinned at you. “Gotcha. Come on, how about the old man buys you some ice cream before we head back?”
“Ice cream in March? You’re mad.”
+++
“Oh my God, Y/N, stop nagging, we’re almost there.” Chris called over his shoulder to where you were dragging several feet behind him.
“I can’t.” You whimpered. “It hurts.”
Your originally comfortable walking shoes had turned into an absolute nightmare about halfway across the bridge. You were sure that by now there were several blisters on your feet, every step was painful like hell and you still had about half a mile to go.
“We can’t just stop here.” Chris groaned, looking at you with a mix of annoyance and pity. “I parked my car at City Hall, can you make it there somehow?”
“I don’t know.” You said through clenched teeth as you tried to take another step.
“There’s only one way then.” Chris sighted heavily, taking a step closer and crouched down in front of you.
“What are you waiting for, hop on.” He said.
You almost couldn’t believe what he was implying.
“You want to take me piggyback?”
"Do you have a better idea?“
You didn’t, and so you carefully climbed onto his back, trying to ignore the funny looks the other pedestrians were giving you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you were surprised how broad and muscular they felt.
Your initial embarrassment about the situation quickly faded as Chris continued to talk to you as if everything was perfectly normal, something you were incredibly grateful for.
He carried you effortlessly, his steps didn’t waver even once. You were impressed and also a little bit turned on by his strength, trying to ignore the warm tingling feeling at where his huge hands were holding onto your legs.
+++
“Alright, here we are. Get some rest, and I’ll text you again tonight.” Chris spoke as he pulled up in front of your apartment building.
“Thanks again, for the ride, and well, everything.” You said, still a bit embarrassed about what had happened earlier.
Chris just shrugged, giving you a warm smile.
“Don’t worry, it was no big deal.”
You spent the rest of your evening cooling your blisters, excited about what the plan for tomorrow would be, and even more to see Chris again.
to be continued…
#chris Cuomo#chris cuomo imagine#Chris Cuomo fic#chris cuomo fanfiction#chris cuomo x reader#cnn#cnn anchors#cnn fic#imagine#Drabble#fanfiction
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(5) New Messages from Bucky’s Y/N
previous part // (1) New Message Masterlist // next part
Summary: Y/N made other plans instead of spending Friday night with Bucky as usual, so guess who’s being passive-aggressive now?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Social Media AU you know the drill)
Warnings: swearing! sexual themes! (very sexual, would not recommend imo just saying, even i wouldn’t want to think of Bucky saying that kind of stuff, I’m lying, that’s a lie)
A/N: As I have already pointed out, I refuse to acknowledge that there is something called ‘agency’ in life so I do what I want
Honeybunch (17:04) Hey babe
Honeybunch (17:04) I’m getting out of work in about half an hour
Honeybunch (17:04) Do you want me to pick you up?
Sweetest (17:05) …uh why would you pick me up?
Honeybunch (17:05) It’s Friday
Honeybunch (17:05) You usually come over on Friday?
Sweetest (17:05) oh
Sweetest (17:05) Yeah I forgot, sorry
Honeybunch (17:06) Is everything alright?
Sweetest (17:06) I might have already made plans tonight? Do you mind if I come over later?
Honeybunch (17:06) Sure
Sweetest (17:06) Ok, I’ll see you later then! Love you!
Honeybunch (17:06) Yeah
*
Sweetest (19:53) We would be so lost without soft pretzels, this world would be so bleak
Sweetest (19:57) I’ll probably be there in an hour or so, can’t wait to see your pretty face
Sweetest (20:03) Hope you didn’t eat, I’ll bring some pizza from that place you like
Sweetest (20:17) Ok what the fuck
Sweetest (20:17) Bucky, why aren’t you replying?
Sweetest (20:18) Buck?
Sweetest (20:21) Honey?
Sweetest (20:24) You’re starting to freak me out
Sweetest (20:28) If you’re not going to reply, I’ll just call you from Steve’s phone and you won’t know it’s me
Honeybunch (20:28) You’re with Steve now?
Sweetest (20:28) Well now that I’ve told you, you won’t pick up anyway
Sweetest (20:28) Yeah, didn’t I tell you I’m going out for some drinks tonight with Steve and Peggy?
Honeybunch (20:29) No you didn’t
Sweetest (20:30) Oh
Sweetest (20:30) So that explains why the passive-aggressive silence then
Honeybunch (20:30) Ask Steve to stop reading over your shoulder
Sweetest (20:30) Stop being a dick to Y/N
Sweetest (20:31) That was steve
Honeybunch (20:31) I gathered
Sweetest (20:31) Oh baby, I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me I thought I told you last night
Honeybunch (20:32) I was a little bit distracted last night Y/N in case you haven’t noticed
Honeybunch (20:32) A bit of a cock block to think of my best friend when I’m deep inside you don’t you think
Sweetest (20:33) Stop being an ass, I told you when we were in the shower
Honeybunch (20:33) …are you trying to prove my point
Sweetest (20:34) Fine! It doesn’t matter now does it
Honeybunch (20:34) Why are you out with Steve anyway?
Sweetest (20:34) I’ve told you that last night as well
Sweetest (20:35) I introduced him to Peggy my co-worker a month ago, remember?
Sweetest (20:36) So I took it upon myself to get the idiots together bc she wouldn’t stop asking about him and your dum-dum of a friend wouldn’t just ask her out already
Sweetest (20:36) Fucking clowns both of them
Honeybunch (20:37) …are you telling me you’ve made me wait 3 hrs for you to come over so you can play matchmaker with my best friend?
Sweetest (20:37) Yeah?
Honeybunch (20:38) Baby…my sweet sweet love…light of my eyes…keeper of my heart…sweetest creature in this universe
Sweetest (20:39) 🙈
Honeybunch (20:40) You better get your ass here right now before I come and fuck you in the restroom of whatever dingy bar you’re in
Honeybunch (20:41) I’ve been thinking all day about how I want to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you senseless tonight and you’re making me wait without a reason that doesn’t make me want to spank you
Sweetest (20:42) 😳
Sweetest (20:42) Yes sir
Sweetest (20:42) I’ll be there in 10 minutes
Honeybunch (20:43) Good girl
*
Stevie (23:09) Hey Y/N! Thank you for helping me out with Peggy, although I should have known you were up to something
Stevie (23:09) Peggy told me you trapped us bc you didn’t think I’d make a move
Stevie (23:10) I WOULD HAVE I’M NOT A COWARD
Stevie (23:11) She’s just so pretty
Stevie (23:11) And I didn’t know how to go about it bc I wanted to give her the best first date
Bucky’s Y/N (23:11) Steve ily but im in the middle of smth rn
Bucky’s Y/N (23:12) Can I call u tmrw
Stevie (23:12) Oh yeah no problem!
Stevie (23:12) I just wanted to say thanks
Stevie (23:13) And I hope Bucky wasn’t too mad that you went over later than usual
Stevie (23:13) He’s been weird all day
Bucky’s Y/N (23:15) Steve this is Bucky
Bucky’s Y/N (23:15) Y/N is currently otherwise preoccupied and I would DEEPLY appreciate it if you could just FUCK OFF tonight thank you bye
Stevie (23:16) Tmi
Stevie (23:16) But have fun
Stevie (23:16) Use protection
Stevie (23:16) Is this driving you mad?
Stevie (23:17) NOW YOU KNOW HOW IT FELT IN THAT FIRST YEAR OF COLLEGE, BUCK
***
Taglist:
@miss-nerd95 | @myboyfriendgiriboy
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes social media au#bucky barnes social media#social media au#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction
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I want to get back into writing and what better way to start with my guilty pleasure Yu-Gi-Oh 5D’s? I’ll be adding new one shots or whatever from time to time. I hope you have as much fun reading as I have writing.
Enjoy!
Prompt: Person A is a customer who is obsessed with the way Person B, a barista at a local coffee shop, makes their pumpkin spiced latte every morning.
By @olicitytropes
Don’t throw me away
Every breath she took built small clouds around her face. She put her scarf further up her face. It was only October and she already felt the ice creeping up her bones. Every autumn she promised herself she would go back to Italy. At least for a week. And every winter she barely scraped by. Her nose hurt when she sniffed. She could imagine how she looked. A woman tucked away under a jacket and a coat on top of that and a scarf which hid nearly her whole face. Her hands were in some thick cloth gloves. They made her hands at least 2 or 3 sizes bigger. And she had boots that reached all the way up to her knees. The siberian marcher. That was her nickname every fucking winter. What can you do when you are used to much gentler autumn and winter days. In Italy winters meant 10 degrees plus not 30 degree minus. Cordelia let out a deep sigh and regretted it in the next second. Her lungs filled with the icy air and it burned her inside out. The urge to cough rose quickly. She held it back. The burning cold air wobbled inside of her. Finally she caved. The coughing got so bad she had to stop on the street and just let it out. It felt like minutes until she could walk again. With her gloved hand she smeared across her face. She could feel all sorts of sticky stuff. Disgusted with herself she wept everything on her coat. But she could still feel something on her face. So she kept rubbing until she was certain it was gone. Well as certain as someone with near frostbites could be. She put her scarf back on and kept walking. The only good thing about this freaking weather was she could get any hold drink and not feel bad about the few bucks. Especially now shortly before Halloween she could get all the pumpkin spice latte. The barista was a nice plus. Just thinking of him made Cordelia a bit warmer. His hair was the best of him. It had the same orange colour as literal pumpkins and it was so messy. It didn’t seem like he ever combed it. She really wanted to touch it. A smirk formed under Cordelia's scarf. But she would have to be fast, because the staff would change in a few minutes. Reflexively she looked at her wrist. Her watch was buried under a ton of clothes. Forcing another sigh down her throat she began to walk faster. Finally she reached the entrance. There was barely anybody in there. Just the barista, his blonde coworker and two coffee drinkers who practically lived in their newspaper. Cordelia pushed the door open. The bell above made a faint tingle. The baristas were in the middle of a conversation and Cordelia nearly felt rude for interrupting it. When they heard the bell both turned and put on their best customer-is-always-right smile. Other than the forced smile you would never guess that they had been here the whole night. Well maybe they weren’t but the shop had insane operating hours so she just assumed. “Oh wow did we get hit with a cold front in the last hour?”, the orange haired barista jocked. Cordelia never learned his name.
Well, you could warm me up.
With a crooked grin she shoved the scarf a bit down. The warmth of the store burnt on her ice cold skin. “I can’t help it, this weather is a serious threat to my health”, Cordelia's voice was throughty and she sounded like a kids cartoon. Both baristas looked at Cordelia as if she summoned an ancient marshmallow in front of their faces. She tried her best to clear her throat. “Anyway”, said the orange haired man, “ehhh, you get a Pumpkin Spice Latte, right?”
Yeah, I’m THAT basic.
Cordelia noded. She didn’t dare to say another word. “Coming right up!” She moved over to the blonde one and paid for her drink. While she paid with her card, which she had already prepared, she spied over to the other worker. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but whenever he prepared a drink he put a tiny bit extra effort into it. The way he slid across the floor to get the cup was the best and worst part of her day. Best, because she got to see him. Worst, because this was literally a highlight. With a raised eyebrow the blond man looked down on her. He was at least one head taller than her. The man towered over her and everyone else. She didn’t notice the look he gave her, her attention still rested on the orange haired man. If Cordelia had any guts she would ask for his name. But Cordelia didn’t have those. Instead she just starred. As he poured the drink into a plastic cup the pumpkin scent filled the room. Everything got soaked. She unconsciously bit her lip in anticipation. Other than him working there was no sound or at least no sound which Cordelia paid any attention to. The man turned around for a second, smiled at her and looked at his co-worker. She couldn’t place his facial expression. Was he pleading? “Say you don’t come from here, do you?”, the blond man’s voice took her out of the trance she basically was in. It took her a few seconds to register him. “Mh, eh no I-I grew up in Italy”, the stupid stammering came back. It always did, whenever she got surprised. She made a fist with one of her hands, well she tried to, but the cloth was simply too thick. Her fingers barely touched each other. “Oh, Italy! Never been there. How is it?” “A lot warmer, but not as friendly as here.” A smile formed on his face: “So why do you torture yourself in this weather?”
Because I REALLY want to get into the pants of your co-worker.
“At first studying, and now work. Beggars can’t be choosers”, she shrugged. “Well it’s nice to have such loyal customers especially at this hour”, the orange haired man walked over with her pumpkin spice latte in his hands. In his other hand he still had the pen. “You really don’t have to write my name on the cup. I mean”, she gestured around, “who else could be getting a latte right now?” “Haha, it’s basically muscle memory at this point. Besides, Cordelia is a beautiful name.”
Show SOME guts!
She smiled at him brightly. At this point she would always run. How often was she at a similar point? Maybe a dozen times. Nothing would ever change. She would walk out that door. Not a tiny bit closer to learning his name or anything about him. Cordelia would always stay the same. Except when she didn’t. “Say, I never asked for your names. Would you mind telling me?”, her voice was shaking a bit. But she did it. She asked THE question. Both looked surprised. “Sure, I’m Jack and this is Crow”, the blonde one spoke. Crow looked, smirked at her and his eyes seemed bigger than before. “Jack, Crow”, she nodded at both of them”, the morning is a pleasure with baristas like you. See you tomorrow.” As a farewell she held the cup high and cheered to them. In the next second she pulled the scarf up her face and walked out the door. Just as she was walking out the next shift walked in. Cordelia stayed and held the door open. It was a red haired woman and a black haired guy with yellow streaks. She always wondered if they were coloured or natural. Both smiled politely. Their eyes were nearly closed and the woman yawned while she walked to the back of the store. Behind Cordelia she could hear Jack and Crow whispering. She could not make out the words. Cordelia didn’t look back. If the next shift was already there she had to move it. Otherwise she would come late to the morning huddle. And her boss was always pissed when he had to wait for someone. With big steps she made her way through the people who slowly emerged from their hibernation. ------- A big sigh left her lips as she finally dropped into her office chair. Cordelia was tempted to kick off her shoes and call it a day. But it was barely 9 am. She made it on time. But she had to run a few meters and that really sucked all of her life out of her. Her only saving grace was another co worker who came in late. Otherwise the boss would have roasted her. As she sipped on the latte a loud gurgling noise came from it. The smell of pumpkin vanished completely. Now only the stench of plastic remained. When did she drink all of that? Disappointed she put the drink at the edge of her desk. The cleaning lady was going to come through any minute and she was nice enough to throw it away immediately. Without looking Cordelia pulled out her laptop, started it, put in her headphones and put on her reading glasses. Within seconds she was working on some numbers. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she entered new numbers and deleted some old ones. This was her zone. She could work for hours like this. The time would fly by and then she could get home, shower and- “Excuse me.” Cordelia nearly jumped out of her chair as a hand tapped her shoulder.
Motherf-
She pulled on the cord and her earphones popped out. The music was faintly hearable. Some stupid love song was playing. The cleaning lady looked at her a bit frightened. With a sharp breath Cordelia let go of the tension and she hoped it would be done soon. “What is it?”, the words still came out harsher than she wanted. She formed a smile, but it felt fake so she quickly dropped it. “I-I just wanted to ask if you saw the message on the cup”, the cleaning lady held the empty cup up.
Probably my name, you…
“What message do you mean?” The cleaning lady smiled at her. “You might want to keep it.” Before Cordelia could protest the cup was shoved into her hands and the lady scooted off. “Okay what’s so special?”, she murmured to herself. As she turned to the message she saw there were two lines. The first one was short and the second one long. Cordelia’s eyes got wide. Within seconds her face turned red she could feel the heat that suddenly radiated from her cheeks. And a small giggle escaped her lips. The best present of the year. And she nearly threw it away. Without thinking she pulled out her phone. Her fingers were slippery and she had to double check the number on the screen. She quickly saved the number and let the phone slip into her pocket. Right now she couldn’t text. Her boss was pissed enough as it was. But lunch was coming quickly. With a big stupid grin on her face she returned her attention to her work. At some point she started to hum and time didn’t move quite like it should have. ----- Once it was finally time for her lunch she slumped back. Her earphones already laid on the table and her glasses joined them after a second. She practically threw them. The last 3 hours felt like a whole work week. The time barely moved, because she was very deep in her thoughts and still managed to look at the clock every other second. Her work was boring as always. The thing that occupied her mind was: What would she write? “Hi” ?“The frozen italian girl here” ?“Could I come over and you warm me up?” So many possibilites to fuck this up. Her coworkers dissolved around her. Nobody stayed in the building. Everybody went out. Well everyone except Cordelia. Slipping into her 2 layers was too much of a hassle for a 45 minute break. She pulled out her phone and nervously tapped on it. The screen looked like a disco. Going on and out in seconds. She still had no idea what to write, but she didn’t want to wait any longer. Well, she could simply call. An evil grin spread across her face.
Why not go all in and make a video call? What’s the worst that could happen?
She pushed the images that crept into her mind down way down. If that should happen she would need to find a new coffee shop. Or even better a new place to work. But she was pretty certain that wouldn’t happen. At least she hoped. God what was she thinking? Cordelia had made up her mind and walked into the bathroom. Fixed her hair and got rid of some slightly smeared makeup. Next she scouted a nice spot where she wouldn’t be bothered. She decided on one of the break rooms. It had a nice painting on the wall.
Maybe he will think I have a life outside of the coffee shop and work. Haha. Who am I kidding?
With one last exhale she started the call. Ringing once Ringing twice Ringing th- “Give me a second”, that was Crow’s voice followed by some rumbling. Nothing could be seen on screen. After a few seconds a light flashed across the screen a strand of his orange hair came into frame. “I didn’t expect a video”, his voice was barely audible but he sounded impressed. Well at least that’s what Cordelia heard. She just smiled awkwardly at the camera. Crow pulled something over his head and then he finally picked up the phone. He looked more sleepy than a few hours ago. His hair was tangled and messier than before. But his smile was still the same. Bright and crooked. For a second she felt her cheeks getting all hot again. “Were you not afraid you could see...you know?”, he walked around the room and kept looking away from the camera. There was some noise in his background, but Cordelia couldn’t hear anything clearly. “Well if I had seen HIM, I could have easily decided if we should skip the dating part and go straight to…”
WHAT THE HELL JUST FELL OUT OF MY MOUTH?
Cordelias hand went up to her face and she covered her mouth. WHOOPS. Crow’s end was silent, but his phone shook violently. The background noises were dead as well. “If you are cursing at me or something, I can’t hear you, you are muted.” In a split second hell broke loose on the other end. Cordelia looked unsure. She couldn’t make out a single noise. After a few moments it got quiter. There was laughter. So many different people laughing.
Oh no.
Crow came back into frame. In his eyes were tears and he still was shaking from all the laughter. “Well, eh, I don’t mean to brag but.... I’d prefer we don’t skip the dating thing, because man....” He wiped a tear out of his face. “If you don’t take her I’ll do it!”, a voice from somwhere in the background shouted. “Shut up”, Crow looked away from the camera, still laughing. “So what do you say?”, he asked Cordelia. Cordelia suppressed a grin as she answered: “Coffee?” The smile on his face froze a bit and he looked like a wet cat. “Geez, that was a joke.” He immediately sighed with relief: “You’re a little jokester, he. I know a comedy club. I might get us tickets for this weekend.” “Sounds good” “Perfect! Let’s meet at the Greenhill cinema. Do you know where that is?” “Sure. See you.” “See ya” The call ended abruptly. Cordelia bit on her lip. That was way different than what she had imagined. Way better... “Task failed successfully”, Cordelia giggled at herself.
-----------------------------
Well there you have it. My first one shot in FOREVER. (literal years) I would be very happy to hear your opinion! Thanks for reading.
Notes:
Yeah Jack is pretty ooc because he is ACTUALLY useful working. That's what AU's are for.
#5ds#ygo5ds#ygo 5ds#oneshot#fanfic#crow hogan#oc#jack atlas#jack atlus#one shot#coffee shop au#coffeshopau#barista!crow#barista!jack#writing
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Liability | Bucky Barnes
masterlist found here
pairing - Bucky x reader
word count - 2,107
warnings - oral (f receiving), unprotected sex
A/N - I feel “meh” about this but it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while so I might as well post it lol | listen to Liability by Lorde
summary - Since you joined the Avengers, you hadn’t been able to get a boyfriend. Dates kept failing, and you were feeling defeated. It didn’t help that you had the hots for one super soldier, and you were certain they weren’t reciprocated.
You walked into the compound with a huff. You were hoping you wouldn’t run into anyone on the way to your room, but Sam and Steve were sitting in front of the TV, sipping beers and watching ESPN. “You’re home!” Sam said, sounding surprised. “It’s not even 10:30.”
“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled, kicking off your heels and plopping on the couch next to Steve. You grabbed his beer and took a long drink of it.
“Didn’t end well?” Steve observed, taking his beer out of your hand.
“I’m so high maintenance, you know?” you said sarcastically, running your fingers through your hair. “I mean, it’s so hard to date an Avenger. So dangerous. It’s practically poison.”
“Guys are assholes, (Y/N),” Sam said with a wave of his hand. “You don’t need a man anyway.”
“I know I don’t need one,” you sighed. “I’m just so, so tired of being alone! If I don’t find someone soon I’m going to spend the rest of my life hopelessly pining after the one guy I want who also doesn’t want me.”
“I still think you just need to talk to Buck,” Steve sighed. “I know you don’t believe me but-”
“Steve!” you groaned. “You know I hate talking about this. It’s not going to happen, okay?” Steve held up his hands in defense before taking another sip of his beer. “I’m gonna go get out of this costume,” you mumbled. Sam and Steve bid you farewell as you headed into your bedroom.
As soon as you closed your door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You were feeling completely pathetic. Deciding to try and get your mind off of your horrible night, you played some music on your phone and swayed gently around the room. Well, you’d always have yourself, right? Who said you weren’t enough? You danced around, running your fingers through your hair and trying to relieve any disappointment you had.
Interrupting your solo dance party was a knock at your door. As soon as you turned and paused your music, Bucky opened the door and stuck his head in. “Hey,” he said gently. “Sam and Steve told me you were home. I-” He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him, and stopped talking immediately. “Holy shit,” he almost whispered.
“What?” you said, folding your arms over your stomach. “What’s wrong?”
“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” he said quickly. “You just, you look amazing.” You sighed and turned to face your mirror again, putting your hands on your hips.
“Yeah well, I guess amazing isn’t enough,” you told him. “The date was a disaster, as usual.” Bucky approached you slowly. You watched his reflection in the mirror. “What’s wrong with me, Bucky?” you asked.
You felt a lump in your throat. You didn’t want to cry, but you were feeling so pathetic and you didn’t know what to do. “Why doesn’t anyone want to be with me? I know, I know that it’s probably hard to date people like us, but I guess no one even thinks I’m worth it.” You scoffed, “You know what this guy said to me?” Bucky raised his eyebrow. “He said It was a big mistake dancing in your storm. You’re a little much for me. Like, like I’m a goddamn liability or something. So just like everybody else, he pulled back and broke it off. They fuck me and dump me. I’m like a toy to all of them, something for them to enjoy until they get bored and leave before there’s even a hint that I want something more. They never want a relationship. Yet I’m foolish enough to constantly believe that they will only to be let down every single time. What is wrong with me, Bucky?” You felt a tear roll down your cheek so you quickly wiped it away.
“Hey, no don’t cry,” Bucky said quickly. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and laid his chin on your shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s everybody else. Those guys don’t know what they’re missing.”
“I just want someone to want me, James,” you whispered. Bucky’s hands gripped your waist tighter when you uttered his name, and you took a sharp breath through your nose. His metal hand brushed your hair to one side of your neck, and you felt his scruff against your skin.
“I want you, (Y/N),” he muttered. You felt his lips brush across your neck, and you tilted your head to the side, exposing more skin to him. You could feel him smile as he gently kissed your neck. He held one of your hands in his, guiding it down to the front of your dress. You gasped as he pressed your hand closer to your core, still over your dress. The two of you were still standing in front of the mirror, and when you opened your eyes, you saw him already looking at you, a devious smirk on his face. You blushed and tilted your head onto his shoulder. He pulled away suddenly, unhooking the top of your dress. It was backless so he let his hand trail down your spine to where the zipper started at the small of your back. He unzipped it slowly before pushing it off your shoulders. You pulled it off your body and let it pool at your feet. He grabbed you by your waist and let his hands slide from your hips up to your chest, squeezing your breasts in his palms. You moaned and tossed your head back onto his shoulder again.
Bucky laughed lightly and guided you over to the bed where he pushed you lightly on your back. You brushed some hair away from your face and looked up at Bucky. He smiled and, before you could even process what was happening, pressed his lips to yours. You felt like your heart exploded in your chest. You grabbed Bucky’s head in your hands and tangled your fingers in his hair. You wanted this for so long and, even though it had taken years, you were so glad it was happening. You clawed at his shirt, letting him know you wanted it off. He chuckled against your lips and pulled away long enough to tug the clothing over his head. You only had moments to marvel at his body, because Bucky quickly placed his lips on yours again. His hands went up to your chest, squeezing your skin underneath his palms. You pulled your lips away from his and moaned loudly, digging your head into the pillow. He pinched your nipple between his metal fingers and you immediately scraped your nails against his back.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he pressed his forehead to yours. He quickly dragged his lips down your body, stopping at your chest. He sucked on your right nipple, causing you to moan again.
“Harder,” you whispered, tilting your head back and pressing his face to your chest. He smirked and took your nipple between his teeth, tugging it slightly. Bucky pulled away slowly and kissed down your torso, his lips making you squirm. He looked at you with hooded eyes, hooked his fingers under your panties, and pulled them down your legs. You sighed and squeezed your thighs together, so he responded by grabbing your knees and holding your legs apart. He made a tsk noise and shook his head at you, making you blush and close your eyes.
“Keep them open,” he said firmly. He kissed your thighs and settled between them. “You’re so wet for me,” he mumbled. You whimpered as he passed his chin, mouth, and tip of his nose over your core. He used his fingers to spread your folds and expose your nub to him. “It’s like I can already taste you,” he almost chuckled.
“James,” you whispered. “Please.” So he licked your straining clit and you gasped. He continued to lick your pussy, his hands gripping your thighs so harshly you were sure he was leaving bruises. He used the point of his tongue to roll your hard nub around. You could tell you were about to come. Your whole body tensed but you held on, not wanting to come just yet. As if Bucky noticed your restraint, he pulled away from you.
“Look at me,” Bucky almost growled. You sighed and did so, straining your neck to look down at him. He just smirked and started attacking your core again. You couldn’t hold back any longer. Your moans were undeniably loud and borderline pornographic. You came strongly, your legs shaking and your head falling back onto the pillow. But Bucky didn’t let up.
“Oh my god,” you whimpered. “Bucky, you, oh fuck. You gotta stop.” He finally did, pulling away from you after placing a lingering kiss to your extremely swollen clit. He sat back on his heels and looked at you. Your skin was flushed pink, and you were breathing heavily.
“I’ll be back,” Bucky said softly. You couldn’t form words, so you just nodded. Within seconds, Bucky was back carrying a washcloth and a towel. He approached you again slowly, wiping down your thighs with the warm washcloth and drying you off with the towel. “Think you can handle more, doll?” Bucky asked, his voice low. You nodded, still not finding your voice. Bucky slowly unfastened his belt before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He kicked them off his body and let his boxers quickly follow. You reached out to touch him but he pushed your hand away. “No,” he said. “It’s about you tonight.” You practically whined as Bucky licked his palm and stroked his already hard cock. Slowly he let his member brush against your folds. “Fuck,” he groaned, not quite allowing himself to fill you completely. “I have to go get a condom.”
“No,” you whined. “I’m on the pill.”
He moaned, “Modern medicine is a fuckin’ blessing.” Then, he pushed into you harshly. You gasped, your eyes flying open as you gripped his shoulders. He pressed his hands into the mattress and steadily pounded into you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting your thrusts up with his.
“Please,” you whimpered again. “Please, James.”
“Oh god, doll,” he groaned. His lips captured yours in a kiss as he continued thrusting into you.
“I’m gonna come, James,” you cried out, pulling your lips away from his.
“Cum for me,” he said. “Let go.” And so you did, calling out his name like it was the only one you knew. Bucky kept pounding into you, nearly reaching his high himself. “Can I cum in you?” he asked, his voice muffled. “Let me cum inside you, babe.”
“Do it, Bucky,” you whimpered. “Cum for me.”
You felt Bucky twitch inside you and then he came, grunting your name as he did so. He huffed and pulled out of you slowly. You shuddered as you felt his cum leak out of you. You were both quiet, the only noise in the room being your heavy breathing. You got up to go use the bathroom and wipe yourself down a bit. When you came back, Bucky was already switching out the sheets for you. You smiled softly and folded your arms across your chest. You walked over to your drawers and got out a new pair of panties, then picked up Bucky’s shirt and pulled it over your head. Bucky went to use the bathroom and so you laid in bed and closed your eyes, laying your hands on your stomach. You couldn’t fight the smile that was on your face. You covered your face with your hands and laughed lightly to yourself. You just had sex with Bucky. And it was great sex.
Bucky came back in the room and slipped his boxers on that he had thrown across the room earlier. He got into bed beside you and pulled you close to him. After a few minutes of the two of you laying together silently, he placed a kiss below your ear. “I’m not just gonna fuck you and dump you,” he said softly. “I didn’t do this just to turn out like all those other guys.” You looked up at him and brushed some of his hair away from his face.
“Good,” you whispered. “Because, truth be told, I’ve been waiting a long time for you.” Bucky smiled and kissed you slowly on the lips. You closed your eyes and snuggled closer to him. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you heard Bucky whisper.
“You’re not a liability to me, (Y/N).”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes smut#smut#winter soldier#winter soldier imagine#marvel#avengers
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Call Me Doctor. (Steve’s Chapter 9)
Summary: Fresh out of graduate school, you had somehow landed a spot in the faculty of a prestigious university. The small anthropology department has too many faculty and too few offices; sharing an office does not go as you expected.
Pairing: Professor!Steve x Professor!Reader
Words: 4295
Warnings: Language and ANGST
A/N: Another chapter, another false deadline promise. I’m sorry for how late this has come out. I got dumped at the beginning of July and have had a lot to deal with since then as my ex and I lived together and I had to get him off the lease, figure out how to afford the apartment on my own (but I got a new job so I will be able to!), and start getting my apartment clean of him. But here’s a chapter.
IMPORTANT: THIS IS WRITTEN FROM STEVE’S PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THIS DEPICTS STEVE’S VIEW FROM CHAPTER 9 OF CALL ME DOCTOR!!
Catch Up On the Story Here
“Oh, shit,” James muttered. “We should say something to her right?”
“I don’t know,” Steve said, his face revealing the defeat he felt. “I doubt she would trust anything I said to her now anyway.”
“We can’t just let her go out with that snake,” James flopped down into a seat next to Steve.
“No, we can’t. But do you really think she’d believe the truth about him if I told her?”
“Probably not...shit.”
Yup,” Steve began to pack up his things, “but I have a class to teach right now. Let’s get dinner tonight and figure it out.”
“Sure, I’ll be at your place at 7. I’ll grab some takeout?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Steve replied, leaving the library.
Steve spent his class unable to concentrate on what he was lecturing, his mind too preoccupied on (Y/N)’s weekend plans. He finished his class early, something he had never done before, and sped home. He tried to busy himself with work, but he couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N).
James let himself into Steve’s apartment and found him pacing the living room.
“Alright, I brought pad thai, pineapple fried rice, and drunken noodles. I thought that might keep you from having to get actually drunk tonight.”
“Very funny,” James responded without smiling, “I don’t plan on drinking for quite a while after last weekend.”
“So what’s our game plan?” James asked as he opened up the takeout containers on the table.
“I don’t know,” Steve slumped into a chair at the table, grabbing a fork.
“Well that isn’t helpful,” James said before shoving a forkful of noodles into his mouth, “So we don’t think she’ll believe the truth,” James sat back thinking, “What about doing something about his tenure? Can we try to get it canceled so he has to move away? Who runs that department? Heimdall?”
“Yeah, Heimdall just became chair two years ago. I sat on a selection committee with him last year and I think I formed a good enough connection with him that he’ll listen and help out.”
“So you think he could actually do something?”
“We would have to have a reason for him. I doubt they would just fire him and I’m not sure how much I can affect their decision on his tenure in general, but I think I could convince them to at least force him to turn in book chapters sooner? I could say that the University was pressing for me to get a new book out right away, and see if anyone in that department had something they’re already working on that could take its place. It would definitely be a favor though. But that added work might mean that Loki would have to cancel the date.”
“That could work? Seems like a valid enough reason to me.”
“Should I email him or call him? Would a text work? We need to get this to him as soon as possible.”
“Is he the kind of guy who actually checks his email on the weekends?”
“Yeah he is,” Steve said, pulling out his phone and typing furiously, “I’ll do that and if that doesn’t work we’ll go to Plan B?”
“What’s Plan B?” James asked, stopping his fork before it reached his mouth.
“I don’t know yet,” Steve replied, finally taking a moment to eat.
The two men sat in silence as they ate, both thinking about the situation. After they had finished eating, the chime of Steve’s phone broke their silence.
“It’s from Heimdall!” Steve’s heart was racing as he opened the email and read it aloud.
“Dear Steve,
I would be happy to help out with the book deadline situation. One of our faculty, Loki Laufeyson is currently up for tenure and working on a book. I’ll let him know immediately that he needs to adjust his schedule and get things submitted faster than originally intended.
Best,
H”
“Yes!” James exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Would it be weird if I texted (Y/N) to check?”
“Yes, it probably would be,” Steve replied, although he wanted to reach out to her too.
The two men spent the rest of the night trying to put the situation out of their minds. After James left, when Steve got into bed, he tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. As much as he tried not to, he kept thinking of last weekend. If it hadn’t been for his drunken stupidity, (Y/N) would never had agreed to go out with Loki in the first place.
After a sleepless night, Steve awoke late on Saturday already in a bad mood. He went about his day unable to concentrate on anything as he was too busy picturing the date (Y/N) was going on the next day. He hadn’t heard anything else from Heimdall, which he hoped meant that Plan A worked. As he sat on the couch watching a movie Saturday night, trying to relax just a bit, his phone vibrated. He grabbed it quickly and thought he was going to vomit after reading the message.
Nice try, smart guy. A change in deadline isn’t going to keep me away from (Y/N). Good luck finding something that will.
Steve immediately took a screenshot and sent it to James. Less than 30 seconds after hitting send his phone was ringing.
“What the fuck??” James yelled through the phone.
“That about sums up how I feel,” Steve said, defeat in his voice.
“We have to think of something else to stop him.”
“What if I just beat him up? Would that solve it?”
“Do you want (Y/N) to hate you forever?” James asked.
Steve let out a long sigh, “You’re right. Shit.”
“What if I told her the truth?”
“She would probably think I made something up about him and told you to tell her and then she would just end up hating you too.”
“Damn,” James said, followed by a few minutes of silence. “God, it just makes me sick to think that lying, cheating bastard is going out with (Y/N).”
“Me too,” Steve replied, his stomach in knots.
“Ok, I’m going to text him something.”
“James, what are you going to text him that he will listen to?”
“I don’t know, I’ll invite him out or to work on a project or something...I’ll think of something, but I know he doesn’t hate me like he hates you, so maybe it’ll work.”
“Ok, tell me how it goes,” Steve sighed before hanging up.
An hour later Steve’s phone began to vibrate uncontrollably. He unlocked the phone and found screenshots from James.
Hey, Loki! It’s James. I’m working on a new research project about the potential of Russian spies using Nordic religious terms and concepts as code. I’m hoping to really kick this project into gear so I can have something to publish by Spring. I would really like to consult you on this project as I know you have a vested interest in part of the topic. Could we meet up tomorrow and I could get some of your expertise?
James, as interesting as this topic seems to be, doing a quick google search I have found no reason for the two topics, those being Russian spies and Nordic religion, to be connected. I would need more information before I consider changing my schedule for you.
I’ve found information on Russians using random phrases, like “The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west,” and I’m wondering if there are “pagan” religious connotations to them. For example, I’ve talked to (Y/N) and she said that the Egyptians made connections between colors and directions, so could that be something that this code uses? So they aren’t necessarily coming right out with the religious affiliations, but I’m wondering if that was the inspiration for them.
You talked to (Y/N) about it already?
Yes I did. So are you willing to meet tomorrow?
I guess so. However, I am busy at 2pm and likely will continue to be preoccupied through the rest of the night.
Oh, shoot. I was actually thinking 2:00 would be perfect. I have a meeting with Natasha at 1:00 to go over the spy aspect and was hoping to be able to stack the meetings.
Well that’s too bad. I could meet in the morning, but otherwise you will have to wait.
Are you sure there isn’t a chance you could meet at 2:00? That would really be ideal for the project.
No. I will not miss the things I already have planned for you.
What if I asked Nat to switch times? Could you meet at 1 instead?
That would be cutting it close.
I’d be happy to include you as an author on it to compensate you for your time.
Fine. I will meet you at 1:00 on campus. But this meeting can not go for more than an hour.
Loki, thank you so much for making the time to help me with this project. I’ll meet you in my office on campus at 1:00pm. See you tomorrow!
Steve’s phone rang just as he finished reading the text messages.
“So, seems like a good plan right? I’m going to have him come to the office and then hopefully make the meeting go long so that he has to stay longer than he wanted to. And then won’t be there for the date!” James said with glee in his voice.
“God I hope so.”
“And if he’s late, I bet (Y/N) will hate him.”
Steve’s hopes were rising for the first time since he had first kissed (Y/N), “Buck, thank you for this.”
“I want you to know that, as much as I love you, I’m not just doing this for you, Steve. (Y/N) is a fantastic woman and she deserves so much better than Loki. She deserves someone who won’t lie to her, cheat on her, lie to her again, make it all seem like it was her fault, and then ruin her career. You definitely made an ass of yourself and her in that bar, but I know you wouldn’t do any of that shit to her.”
“Wow, thanks, just when I was feeling a bit better you had to bring me back down.”
“Sorry man, but I have to be real with you.”
“Yep, sure.”
“Steve, we’re at Plan B. You don’t think we’ll need a Plan C do you?”
“If your plan doesn’t work, I’ll go talk to him.”
“Does that really sound like a safe and productive option?”
“Buck, if your plan doesn’t work, I’m afraid it will be the only option we have left.”
After a long pause James whispered, “Fuck.”
“I feel the same way. Hopefully it won’t come to Plan C.”
“I’ll keep you posted about tomorrow’s progress, just in case. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
The pounding of Steve’s heart was the only thing to break the silence after James hung up the phone. He got ready for bed and flopped down on top of the covers. He just lay there, thinking and worrying.
Steve didn’t remember having falling asleep when he awoke Sunday morning. His neck was stiff from the angle he had slept at and he had struggle sitting up from the pain. He reached around for his phone but couldn’t find it. With panic setting in, he forced his neck to bend so he could check the floor. He picked up his phone and found it to be dead, which only increased his panic. He hastily plugged it in, and started pacing the floor, his heart thumping painfully in his chest as he waited for the phone to turn back on. As soon as he saw the screen light up he raced to his phone, holding it until it turned on. The phone finally booted up and Steve hastily unlocked it.
It’s only 8am, he thought to himself. There’s no reason why I should have any messages yet.
After 5 minutes of waiting and staring at the phone with no new notifications aside from a few emails, he decided there were no updates that he needed to worry about. His breathing finally started to slow down and he relaxed into bed. He scrolled through the new emails, none of which demanded replies, feeling his eyelids getting heavier with each sentence he read. He dozed off with his phone still in his hand.
Steve awoke to a buzzing on his chest. By instinct he silenced his phone, letting out a big yawn as he groggily rubbed his eyes. He picked his phone up and turned the screen on. He instantly felt sick as he read the messages on his screen.
Steve, Loki just got here and I think it’s gonna go well (Sent 1:00pm)
Ok, I severely misjudged this. I’ve already excused myself to the bathroom to try to kill time but I think he might be on to me. I don’t know how much longer I can keep him (Sent 1:32pm)
STEVE THE MEETING IS ALMOST OVER AND I CANT STALL HIM AND HES LEAVING TO GO TO (Y/N)’S AND YOU NEED TO STEP IN AND WE HAVE TO GO TO PLAN C (Sent 1:43pm)
STEVE HE HAS LEFT AND I COULDNT KEEP HIM AND YOU NEED TO STEP IN. WHY THE FUCK ARENT YOU ANSWERING (Sent 1:47pm)
In addition to the texts, Steve also had 5 missed calls. He looked at the time and realized he had less than 10 minutes to get to (Y/N)’s to hopefully cut Loki off before he got there. Luckily he was still in his clothes from the day before. He quickly got out of bed and ran through his apartment finding his keys, wallet, and helmet before racing out the door. He quickly jumped onto his bike and wove his way in and out of cars to get to (Y/N)’s apartment. He got to the front door with 3 minutes to spare before 2pm. Just as he was getting off his bike he saw Loki walking up the street. He took a deep breath, and walked up to the front door, standing in front of it like a club bouncer.
“Loki,” he huffed as the other man walked up to him.
“Steve. I wondered if I would run into you today,” Loki replied with a sly smirk twisting his lip upwards.
“We both know why I’m here.”
“Because you came to admit defeat to a real man?” Loki sneered.
“Is there one coming?” Steve asked snidely.
“Funny,” Loki said without cracking a smile, “I’m going to need you to get out of my way now.”
“Oh really? And what are you going to do about it if I don’t?” Steve puffed out his chest.
Loki walked up to Steve until there was just an inch between them. Although Loki had height over Steve, Steve had more muscle.
“I am warning you one last time. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” Loki spat.
“No.”
No sooner had Loki pushed Steve on the shoulder than Steve had grabbed his wrist and spun him so Loki’s hand was flush with his own neck. Holding Loki’s arm in a compromising position, Steve shoved him up against the apartment building, keeping him from having an exit.
“I have no problem breaking your arm right now,” Steve hissed into Loki’s ear.
“Go ahead, tough guy. Let’s see who (Y/N) chooses if you do so.”
“Stay away from her.”
“No, I don’t want to.”
“Loki. I swear to God, you better stay away from her.”
“Good thing I don’t believe in your puny God.”
Steve tightened his pull on Loki’s arm, causing a yelp from Loki.
“Fine, fine, I’ll go,” Loki said with defeat.
Steve loosened his grip on Loki’s arm, “And where will you be going?”
“On my date!” Loki exclaimed as he took advantage of Steve’s lack of grip and broke free, spinning around and punching him in the face.
Steve was knocked backwards and just barely grabbed the end of Loki’s shirt as he ran for the door. He didn’t get a strong enough grip on the shirt tails, and Loki made it to the door and called the intercom to (Y/N)’s apartment before Steve could stop him.
“Hello?” (Y/N)’s voice rang through the intercom, causing Steve’s stomach to flip.
“(Y/N), apologies for my tardiness,” Loki replied giving Steve a wink and a smirk, “Are you still wanting to go out?”
“Of course!” She replied with an excitement in her voice that made Steve feel sick, “Be right down.”
“Better luck next time, Stevie,” Loki spat.
Steve growled and got on his bike, walking it forward so he could be concealed behind a minivan parked on the street. Moments later he heard a door open. He watched through the windows of the van as (Y/N) came out the door, a huge grin on her face as she met Loki.
“(Y/N)! Again, my deepest apologies. I was held up,” Loki cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt, trying to smooth it out from where Steve had rumpled it.
“Well you’re here now, so all is forgiven,” she smiled at him.
“Really? Just like that? Well perfect! Shall we?” Loki asked, nodding ahead.
“Love to,” she replied.
Loki took her hand and tucked it through and around his arm before guiding her forwards toward the main strip of shops and restaurants. Steve felt absolutely nauseous watching the events before him. He slowly walked his motorcycle down the street, creating a safe distance between himself and Loki and (Y/N) where they wouldn’t see him, but he could still hear them.
“So, I thought we could go to three different cafes today and get drinks at one and pastries at the others,” he said, loosening up.
“Sounds perfect,” she said, enjoying the warmth he gave off as you walked arm-in-arm.
Steve followed them, silently, for a few blocks, pausing behind cars when Loki would look around for him. He was incredibly thankful that there wasn’t any traffic so that he could continue on with what had now become Plan D.
When they stopped at a cafe, Steve watched as Loki held the door open for (Y/N). He waited a few minutes before parking his bike and going in after them. He quickly grabbed a newspaper from a rack near the door and walked straight to the bathroom as he saw (Y/N) in line, staring at the menu board. After they walked to their table, Steve hastily ordered a coffee to not raise suspicions.
Steve found a seat far enough away from them that he could observe, but kept the newspaper up so that he could be concealed. Although he couldn’t hear their conversations, (Y/N)’s laugh would ring through the shop. Every time he heard it, his stomach lurched. They talked for what felt like eons. Steve had reread the newspaper 8 times when he heard them walk past him, discussing where they were going next. After hearing the door shut, he put down his paper and watched the direction they left. He waited a few moments and then followed them out, trying to keep a safe distance.
When they got to another cafe, Steve repeated the same process. He waited until they were walking away with their own drinks before he ordered. He then found a table of his own near them and resumed his reading of the paper. Steve couldn’t help but slightly drop the newspaper and watch her walk away when she went to the bathroom. The hair on the back of his neck rose, as he felt like she had seen him too. He removed himself a little farther from where they had been sitting when she was in the bathroom and pulled out his phone, concealing it with the newspaper.
Wrap this shit up, Loki.
Or what?
Or I will talk to your Department Chair and ensure you have a new reason to leave.
Ha, yeah right. What are they gonna do? Give me a deadline of tomorrow for a chapter?
A few people owe me favors, so yes, maybe they will.
The shop was quiet enough that he could hear (Y/N) asking Loki if something was wrong. Steve slipped his phone into his pocket and waited for a moment to step in. Steve watched as Loki hurried (Y/N) out of the cafe, but quickly pulled the newspaper up as Loki began looking around for him.
Steve repeated his previous actions from the last two cafes when he went to the final one. He felt a fire building inside of him when he realized Loki had taken (Y/N) to his own personal favorite coffee shop. He watched through the window as (Y/N) looked around the shop with wonder and excitement, which made the anger inside of him grow. He wanted to have been the one to bring her here. He should be the one with her right now. Once he saw that they were getting their drinks he went inside and snapped out an order to the waitress, his anger getting the better of him. He apologized when they gave him his coffee and he found a seat to resume his watch.
Steve sat closer to them at this cafe than he had at the others. He listened in to their conversations, the anger causing the heat to grow in him as he listened to (Y/N)’s enjoyment at being there with Loki. He couldn’t help himself, he pulled out his phone and texted Loki.
Alright, you son of a bitch. What is it going to take to get you away from her.
He listened as Loki exclaimed about the vibration of his phone and (Y/N) excused herself to the bathroom. Steve held the newspaper up as (Y/N) walked past him, but was afraid she would become suspicious as his hands were shaking with anger and causing the newspaper to slightly move. His phone buzzed on the table before him.
Nothing you say or do will keep me from her, Steve. I win, you lose. Get over it.
Steve had never felt more angry in his entire life. Nothing with Sharon had ever pushed him to such an anger as this. Knowing that Loki, the man who had stolen his own brother, Thor’s, girlfriend from him, dated her for a month, and then cheated on her with James’s girlfriend, and then turned the blame on Thor and James for not being enough for the women, to the point where James had a breakdown that almost caused for removal from his job due to him skipping classes and missing deadlines, was out with (Y/N) and she was actually enjoying herself had brought Steve to his breaking point. Hearing Loki laugh with her was the final straw. Steve crumpled up his newspaper and threw it to the floor. He stood up and walked towards Loki and (Y/N).
(Y/N) looked up at him and dropped her cup, which smashed into pieces as soon as it hit the floor.
“Steve?” (Y/N) asked with confusion in her voice.
“Steven,” Loki softly said with panic in his voice.
Seeing the show that Loki was putting on with (Y/N) just pushed Steve even further over the edge of anger. He took a moment to think and put the right words together to not raise suspicion with (Y/N).
“Loki, any word on tenure?” he growled out, narrowing his eyes.
“None that I would tell you,” Loki spit back, puffing out his chest.
“And none that you’ll receive,” Steve said, with an evil smirk.
“Steve, what the fuck?! Have you been following us?” She demanded.
“I have far better things to do than spend an afternoon off following two dimwits around coffee shops,” Steve replied, the reflection of the fire from the fireplace dancing in his eyes embodying the fire he felt within himself.
Loki sarcastically laughed in response.
“Let’s just go, Loki,” (Y/N) said, offering her hand to pull Loki up from the couch, “He isn’t worth it,” She spit at Steve.
“Gladly,” Loki replied, taking her hand.
Loki walked over to Steve with (Y/N)’s hand held tightly in his, “Rogers, if you ever threaten me again, I will take this up with the Dean and I don’t think she would be too happy to hear of it.”
Steve just growled in reply, unable to think of anything else he could say that wouldn’t get him into even more trouble with (Y/N) than he was sure he was already in. Steve didn’t bother following them. As soon as they left the anger seemed to leave his body and he was left feeling sick, sad, and lost. It was as though his heart had been crushed and stomped on by (Y/N). He felt terrible that she had been the victim of his anger once again, but even more awful that Loki was the one to pick her up.
He slowly walked out of the cafe, apologizing quietly to the baristas for causing a scene. He trudged to his motorcycle and drove himself straight to James’s. He didn’t want to be alone. He fumbled with his keys and got himself into the apartment building. He knocked on James’s door and waited for his friend to open it.
“Steve? What happened?” James asked after opening the door, his face falling as he looked his friend up and down.
“We lost,” Steve choked out before entering the apartment, slumping onto the couch, and crying.
CHAPTER TEN
Tag Lists:
Call Me Doctor. Tag List:
@ashislost @wantingtobekorra @zlixlle @crazy--me @grey-raven @queenkitten95 @chook007 @tequila1984 @yallneedtrek @ssweet-empowerment @guera31 @justmesadgirl @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl @rainbowkisses31 @writing-for-a-chance @sp2900 @notkikibear @itzmegaaaaaaan @partiallyinthecloset @moonstruckhargrove @straybattie @angryteapot @fandom-addict-aesthetics @hazellnut94 @abschaffer2 @hadesgirl1015 @vikki-rogue @biskwitmamaw @justkending @marvelous-capsicle
Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tag List:
@patzammit
Permanent Tag List:
@sophiealiice @mrsdeanwinchester19 @thisismysecrethappyplace @ailynalonso15 @221bshrlocked @hazellnut94 @libbymouse @nerdypinupcrystal @hufflepuffchloe
#call me doctor#marvel#fan fic#steve rogers#professor steve#steve x reader#steve rogers x reader#au#professor au#anthropology
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Saeyoung Week - Day 5: AU
College Party AU
MC’s roommate convinces her to attend a house party hosted by campus charity organization - The RFA. Minor legend and mystery on campus 707 is of course also there. MC thinks he’s weird - and absolutely adorable. Cheesiness ensues. This is my first ever crack at an AU it was really fun to write, I hope you enjoy it!
---
“MC, Are you coming with me or not?!” Her roommate says in a whine as she puts the finishing touches on her lipstick in the mirror attached to their shared closet.
MC looks up from the textbook she’s had her nose in for the past hour, Although she hasn’t absorbed much of it. Calculus was about as foreign to her as a different language - actually, even more so, she’s pretty sure she could learn another language faster than this.
“I don’t know, Mei. I’m no fun at parties I usually just go sit in a corner and play games on my phone, or end up in some awkward conversation with some guy who can’t take a hint.” MC responds with a roll of her eyes.
“Maybe this time will be different! You might meet someone you have something in common with, get into a good conversation, or maybe something even more interesting.” Her roommate says with a strange eye wiggle.
“Ok, first of all. Never do that again. Second of all. I’m not really looking for someone to “have conversations with” let alone anything “more interesting.” MC feels the bed dip as her roommate sits on the edge of it.
“MC.” Mei says, serious now. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you can’t shut off all possibilities because the last person you dated didn’t understand your worth, ok?”
MC looks to the side. She’s right of course. It’s been more than enough time to have recovered. She was just sulking, constantly. Maybe she should get out for a while, She doubted she’d make much progress in understanding the symbols in her textbook in the next few hours anyway. She needed a tutor, and she wasn't going to find one tonight. “Ok. I’ll go.” MC surrenders.
“YES, This is gonna be so much fun! You wanna borrow something from my closet? I have an outfit I think would look adorable on you.” Mei says, dancing about the room excitedly.
“Sure?” MC surrenders.
“Who’s party is this anyway?” MC asks a few minutes later as she toys with the rips on her pants Mei picked out for her.
“Some charity organization, costs like five bucks to get in but hey it's for charity. They aren't sponsored by the school though which means tonight is going to be lit.” He roommate says
“Who invited you?” MC inquires.
Her roommate shrugs “I don't know. Some unknown number texted me the other day, a lot of others got invites too, the guy won’t give his name. You didn't get one?”
“Nah, guess Mr. Unknown doesn't like me too much” MC pouts exaggeratedly.
“Oh shut up, that's just cuz you never give your number to anyone, ever.” Mei responds, flipping her hand.
--
30 minutes later they stand in front of a house near campus. Loud music plays from the house and people mill about on the lawn playing beer pong and talking, well more like screaming with how loud the music is. MC’s pretty sure she can see someone’s legs sticking out of a bush probably passed out.
As they approach the door a blond boy, not too much taller than them stumbles out pushes past MC’s roommate. Then he stops to stare at MC. His wide purple orbs become even wider as he studies her face. He places his hands on her shoulders and looks into her eyes.
“Whoa,” He says, MC can smell beer on his breath. “You’re like. Really pretty.”
Before she can respond the blond is being dragged away by a taller man with a platinum white ponytail and piercing red eyes. “Hey, hey come on man, you can’t just grab onto people like that. Sorry ladies, my friends a bit of a lightweight.” he apologizes whilst draping one of the smaller man’s arm’s around his shoulder so he can help him walk. “Come one, let's get you home.”
“But Zeeeeeeen.” The boy whines in protest as he’s dragged away.
MC shakes her head as she follows the flow of people into the house.
As soon as she enters the house she’s struck by the site of a red-headed man standing on the kitchen island, holding a fluffy white cat up above him while a man in a suit reaches desperately for said cat.
People are gathered around watching the spectacle with assument.
“What is this, Lion King?” MC says under her breath
“Naaaaaaants ingonyamaaaaaa Bagithi Baba!’ The red-head belt’s out with almost perfectly accuracy.
“Oh ok, that is what he's doing. How drunk is that guy?”
“He’s not.” Her roommate answers. “He apparently doesn't even drink alcohol. Just a lot of Dr. Pepper. That’s 707 or ‘Seven’ for short, he’s always like that. He’s kind of a campus legend.”
“707?” says questioningly “What in the world kinda name is that?”
Mei rolls her eyes. “Well, that’s not his real name, of course. He tells everyone it's his code name. I don't know, he's a Comp Sci major, probably thinks it's cool or something.”
“What a weirdo,” MC says studying the man and shutting up the small voice in her head telling her weird, but cute. "So what's his real name?" She asks before she can stop herself.
"Luciel?… Something? I think? I don't know, you want a drink?"
"I'm gonna need one with that guy around." MC says watching as he jumps down from the counter, cat still in his hands and darts out the back door in a fit of giggles followed by suit dude.
---
She has no idea what's in these drinks her roommates been handing her but they taste good and as a result she's completely lost track of how many she's had. She's heard people say you never realize how drunk you are until you're in the bathroom, she's currently finding out how true that is.
She stares in the mirror and notes how her own reflection rotates and then resets with each blink.
"Ha. Funny" she says to the mirror. Yup ok definitely drunk.
She manages to wash her hands and get out of the bathroom without incident. When she opens the door to the hallway she sees someone crouched over, dangling something from a string. It's the same crazy red-head from before.
"Come on Elly! I'm sorry! You've gotta come out!" He says to someone. Something?
It takes her drunk brain a moment to process that he's trying to get the cat, who must currently be under the console table he's crouched near, to come out.
"She'll come out if you jus leab her alone." She slurs out.
"But then how am I supposed to play with her?" Seven says, pouting. He turns around to look up at her. That's when the full force of his golden eyes strike her for the first time. Her jaw falls open and she stands there stupid for a moment.
"Uh… you ok there?" He says, noting her unresponsiveness.
"Me? Yea! Yea I'm fine. It's just your…" she stops herself.
Right then suit dude barrels down the hallway, quickly retrieving what must be his cat from under the furniture and mumbling something about “Elizabeth the 3rd” and “proper names”.
"My?" Seven repeats slowly, seemingly more focused on her than the cat he was apologizing profusely to a second ago.
"It just. You have like. Really pretty eyes." She mentally slaps herself. God, she sounds just like that blond kid now.
“OH! Thanks, Pretty Lady!” He says, flashing her the brightest, most beautiful smile that ever existed.
Her stomach leaps as she feels her cheeks getting hotter. Did he really just call her that? oh no. No no no This isn't good. She thinks. This is how it starts, and then before you know it’s morning and you’re regretting things. “I uh, gotta go” She mumbles, turning back toward the stairs that lead back down to the party.
She doesn't make it far though and before she knows it the floor is in her face. How did that happen?
“Whoa, ok you are definitely not ok.” She hears a voice say behind her before study arms lean her gently up against the wall. He sits next to her somewhat supporting her weight along with the wall.
“Here, sip on this.” He says handing her a bottle of water.
Where did he even get that? “What if you drugged it?” MC says accusingly.
“Smart girl, but no. Not really my thing.” He says before snapping the seal on the bottle, proving to her it’s brand new. She’s sure there are still other ways he could have drugged it but his kind eyes and her already inebriated state are making her care less. She takes it out of his hand and begins to gulp it down.
“Hey, hey, hey no,” He says taking it back from her. “Sip slowly, you'll make yourself sick.” He practically feeds her sips for the next several minutes.
“Thanks.” She says, leaning into him a little more. “I thought you were crazy, but you’re really nice.”
He chuckles. “What if I’m both?” he asks.
“Mmm. You’re cute so it's ok.”
“You think I’m cute?” He asks, genuinely.
“Mmhmm.” She says nodding into his shoulder.
“You’ll have to tell me that again when you’re not drunk so I believe you.”
“Mmkay, sounds good.”
“Did you come here with someone?”
“My roommate, she likes parties. Made me come. I should be studying.” she groans.
“And what exactly should you be studying?”
“Calculus. I hate it. I don't get it. I need a tutor.” She whines
“I could tutor you, you know. If you actually remember me tomorrow.”
She stares dumbstruck for a moment. “Whoa. Are you smart?”
“Sometimes!” he says with a chuckle. “Why don't we call your roommate? See if we can't get you home? I can drive you both if you’re ok with it”
“Mkay” she says taking out her phone. She stares at her lock screen, touching numbers on the keypad, attempting to unlock it but it would seem she can’t remember her code in her current state.
“Ughhhh she groans out. I changed the lock code the other day and I don’t remember it. It was my ex’s birthday and I was tired of thinking about it. I shoulda just kept it.” She says, defeated.
“Can I see?” He offers, holding out his hand.
She shrugs and hands it to him.
“Did you connect to the house wifi when you got here?” He asks, taking his own phone out.
“Yea, why?”
“This should be a lot easier then.” He says, rapidly tapping his screen, then hers, before handing her phone back, unlocked. “Ta-Da!” He exclaims.
“Whoa! What the fuck are they teaching you in Comp Sci?”
“Ah-haha” He laughs nervously. “I may have, learned that on my own.”
“You’re dangerous!”
“And don't you forget it Bay-bee.” He says with a wink.
Shit, he really is cute. She thinks as she pulls up her roommate's contact info.
The phone rings a few times before Mei picks up, Sounding almost as drunk as MC.
“I want to go home,” MC says into the receiver. “Seven says he can drive us.”
“You’re hanging out with 707?” he roommate responds stunned.
“Ya. He’s cool.” she answers, making Seven smile.
---
Soon the three of them are walking out to the line of cars on the street. Seven is helping MC as a nice woman with a cute cropped haircut and a pencil skirt helps her roommate.
“I didn't realize ‘Charity Organization’ meant ‘helping drunk people into cars.’ The woman says.
“Sorry, Jaehee!” Seven apologizes.
“Do not be, you are doing the right thing Luciel.”
“Spent the day with Elly, the night with a cute girl, andI’m getting praise from Jaehee. I think I died. This isn't real life. I must be in heaven” Seven says dramatically.
“You are so strange.” Jaehee says as they approach a sporty-looking red car.
MC’s eyes trail over the sleek exterior of the car. “What rich dude owns this thing?” She says.
Jaehee snorts.
“Ah.” Seven says. “That would be Yours Truly, my dear. This is one of my babies.”
MC is feeling a bit more sober now. “One? Of your babies? What?”
“Hehe, and you’re getting the coveted shotgun seat.” He pauses “Just don’t tell Yoosung ok?” He whispers, helping her into the seat and buckling her in.
“Who the fuck is Yoo-” She cut short by the realization that is he is very close to her right now. Oh, he smells good. Her brain really needed to shut up.
He looks down at her red face. “Come on Cutie, let’s get you home.” He says with a smile before shutting the door gently.
---
Seven stands in her doorway. MC’s roommate has already crashed in her bed but MC herself must be feeling at least a little better as she stands to say goodnight to him.
“Would it be too soon for me to ask for your number?” He asks nervously “Ya know, So I can see how you feel in the morning?” He hurriedly adds.
MC smiles, amusedly “Couldn't you just hack the school's database for it?”
“I could. But I won’t. I wouldn't go against your wishes like that.” He says earnestly, eyes darting awkwardly to the side.
MC smiles at him. He seems sweet. He really does. “I don't usually give my number out to people.” She says shuffling in the doorway. “But people aren't usually as nice to me as you were tonight.”
He smiles one of those 100-watt smiles again. “Is that a yes?”
She giggles. “Yea, let me see your phone.” she says.
She takes it and enters her info handing it back to him.
“MC huh? Cute.” He notes “I'll text you so you have my number too.”
The phone beeps a second later with a “Hey Hiya Hey Hey” displayed on the screen.
“What should I put you under? 707? Seven? Luciel?”
“Saeyoung.” He says quietly, his face becoming red as he avoids her eyes, checking the time “It’s late I gotta go I’m sorry! I'll text you in the morning!” he says as he backpedals down the hall waving at her.
“Why do you have so many names!?” she shouts.
“It’s a secret!” he responds before opening the heavy metal door to the stairwell and disappearing.
MC shuts the door and plops down on her bed, smiling wider than she has in a long time as she stares at his contact info.
“I can’t believe you and The Legendary Seven Zero Seven are gonna date.” Mei grumbles out.
“Who said that?!” MC says with a scandalized tone.
“Both of your faces did just now!” she teases before rolling over.
MC giggles again, feeling giddy and for the first night in months she falls asleep thinking about someone new.
#saeyoungweek2019#day 5#tw: drinking#tw: drug mention#mystic messenger#mystic messenger fanfiction#mystic messenger AU#saeyoung#saeyoung choi#mm seven#mm saeyoung#mm 707#mm luciel choi#luciel choi#707#707xmc#saeyoungxmc#sevenxmc
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Champagne
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1519
Warning(s): alcohol consumption, language (only a little bit), fluff
Summary: Y/N successfully completed her mission and, upon her return, decides to celebrate with Bucky in the wee hours of the morning.
She arrives at the compound at around 2 am. Fury told her he would have someone handle the paperwork and to get some well-deserved rest, but she wasn’t all that tired despite the late hour. The difference in timezones left her wide awake, actually.
She dropped her bags off in her room to unpack the following morning—or afternoon, depending on when she would wake up—before strolling into the kitchen to grab a snack. There’s a dim glow that peeks into the hallway leading to the room, indicating that someone either left a light on or that someone had the same idea as her. She safely decided that it was the latter, as F.R.I.D.A.Y. likely would have switched off the light if it had been left on accidentally.
Striding into the kitchen, she discovers a disheveled super soldier.
“Good evening, Barnes,” she says comically and much louder than someone should be speaking at two in the morning.
“It’s 2 am, Y/N. Did you just get back?”
“I did. Mission successful, as per usual.”
“Didn’t expect any less from you,” he says with a soft smile. He might’ve had a hard exterior, but Bucky Barnes was a big softie on the inside. He had taken a liking to Y/N. She never treated him as anything other than normal, but was there for him when he was having a rough day. She also made jokes that Sam was often the subject of, which delighted him.
“Why thank you, James.” He quirks an eyebrow at her using his first name, but dismisses it a moment later. “Would you like to join me in my celebration?” she offers. “Or will I be a party of one tonight?”
“What do you have in mind?”
She makes her way over to one of the cabinets, moving in graceful waves. There’s something about her that’s captivating, Bucky thinks. Something that drags him in like a riptide. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s the perfect balance of caring and care-free, drifting around lazily while simultaneously crashing about recklessly. She’s some kind of paradox or oxymoron in and of herself.
She opens the liquor cabinet, which Tony has set at a specific temperature so the fluctuating temperature of the kitchen doesn’t disturb the alcoholic beverages, and reaches up to retrieve a certain bottle.
“I think my success calls for a drink,” she says, waving a bottle of champagne around in her grasp. “Care to join me?”
“You know alcohol doesn’t affect me, right? I can’t get drunk. I’d just be watching you get drunk.”
“Of course I know that. I tried to get Steve drunk a few years back and it ended with four empty bottles of wine and Steve carrying me to bed as I mumbled about,” her voice trails off. “I swear he told me the next morning but I don’t remember. It’s irrelevant anyway. Are you gonna drink with me?”
“I guess I am.” He chuckles.
“Great!” she says, thrusting the bottle into the air gleefully. “Let’s pop this bitch open.”
She begins rummaging through drawers for a knife, her reckless side coming out a bit more.
“Oh my God,” she freezes before turning to face him. “Can you just flick it open? Y’know, with your super strength and all? That would be such a sick party trick!” He stares at her for a brief moment before bursting into a fit of laughter, covering his face with his hands.
“You don’t even need this alcohol right now,” he jokes as he calms down.
“Wait I’m serious though. Can you do that?”
“How about we figure that out another time. Hand me that towel over there,” he says, pointing to a towel hanging behind her. As she retrieves it, he starts preparing to safely open the bottle.
“You’re no fun, Barnes,” she pouts, tossing the towel in his face. He chuckles and motions for her to come closer. She does, and he places her hand on top of his flesh one that rests on top of the bottle.
“Let’s pop it open together, okay?” he says, and she nods, squeezing his hand a bit.
“Three, two, one,” they count down in unison before popping the bottle open. A little bit of the liquor spills, but only because Y/N tipped the bottle a bit too far.
She pours each of them a glass and he makes a toast.
“To your successful mission.”
“To my successful mission.”
The two of them polish off the bottle by around 3:30. Y/N is a bit tipsy by then, but not too tipsy. She’s even more whimsical, bubbly like the beverage they’ve been sipping on, Bucky mentally notes.
The two have been chatting for a while, their conversations growing sillier and sillier as Y/N grew more inebriated. She shares stories about past missions and stupid shit that Steve has put her through. He especially loves the story about how Steve nearly gave her a heart attack when he was shot and had failed to notify her that he was wearing a bulletproof vest. Somehow, the two grew closer as the hour and a half flew by. She was sitting on a stool, facing him. Her knees were pressed against his and her gaze shifted to his face.
“Y’know, Barnes, you’ve got the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen,” she says slowly, and if it wasn’t so dark she might be able to see the way his cheeks redden at the compliment.
“I- Thank you,” he replies softly.
Without warning, she hops off her stool and waltzes over to the couch, plopping herself down on the soft cushions and setting her nearly empty glass on the coffee table.
“Come here, Buck. I wanna play with your hair.” She makes grabby hands at him as if she were a toddler, waving her arms around as she does so. He laughs and takes a seat on the couch with her, setting his own glass, which also contains very little of the beverage, beside hers. She drapes her arms lazily over his shoulders, resting her forehead against his chest.
“I thought you said you wanted to play with my hair, doll.”
“I do, I just need a minute. That walk made me tired.” He chuckles.
“You mean the five feet from the stool to the couch?”
“Exactly. You really get me, Buck,” she mumbles as she runs her fingers through his hair. She has somehow moved so her body is awkwardly sprawled across his lap.
“Look at these pretty lips.” She runs her hand over his mouth messily, and he can’t help but laugh. “They’re so red! Did you steal my lipstick, Bucky?” she points a finger at him accusingly before reaching out and poking his lower lip.
“I didn’t steal your lipstick, doll, I promise.” He tilts his head down a bit to look into her eyes. She smiles at him—fully smiles, dimpled cheeks and all.
“What are you smiling about?,” he asks.
“It’s a secret.”
“Do you wanna share this secret?”
She tilts her head a bit in consideration and then nods. She knows that her sudden surge of confidence is from the alcohol, but decides to roll with it anyway. She could just blame it on the champagne tomorrow if things go poorly anyway. “But you can’t tell anyone.”
“I promise.”
“I have this uh, this little crush,” she says, playing with her fingers.
“Oh yeah, on who?” He hopes and prays that this is going in the direction he thinks it is.
She doesn’t answer, continues playing with her fingers, and he deflates a bit, having lost his confidence. After a moment she stills, then reaches up and boops his nose with her forefinger. Giggles. She giggles, and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a more beautiful sound.
“Me?” he questions her. She nods.
“Of course! Bucky, Bucky,” she babbles, and he lets out a laugh once more.
“Doll, are you drunk?” He loves the way her eyes light up whenever he uses that pet name on her. It’s like a stunning display of fireworks going off, and it makes his heart race a million miles a minute.
“I most certainly am not, James,” she says with a little tug on a strand of his hair. “Tipsy at best.” He smiles.
“Then would it be okay if I kissed you?” Ah, Bucky Barnes, ever the gentleman. There’s that giggle again, setting his heart alight.
“It would be more than okay, Buck,” she says, leaning in and nuzzling his nose with her own. He smiles a broad, bright smile, so bright it could light the whole damn city, and he kisses her. It’s slow and lazy and sweet and more than he ever could’ve imagined. His hands move to cup her face, and when they pull apart breathlessly, he rests his forehead against hers, gazing fondly into her eyes.
“You taste like champagne,” she notes in a whisper.
“You taste like champagne,” he echoes her softly. “I didn’t know it could be so sweet.”
She reaches out and grabs their glasses off the coffee table, handing his to him.
“To us,” she toasts.
“To us.”
#hqwkeyes#marvel#marvel writing#fanfic#fanfiction#marvel drabble#marvel post#marvel fluff#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#marvel drabbles#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader
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Okeydoke, review time!! As promised it isn't a Disney movie. I am really going to have a lot of fun with this one for a couple of reasons.
One, as many of you know I DEFINITELY drink the DC Comics Kool-Aid. I really enjoy this stuff and while I am definitely able to see its flaws, I have really been into what DC has been attempting in terms of building a cinematic universe, and I absolutely love that DC comic people are getting to play along and have some input instead of it being clueless Warner Brothers head shed dweebs entirely running the show. Now, they do yank the reins a bit, WB is known for being reactionary instead of just going with the plan (looking at you, Marvel Studios) but they have been allowing a bit more freedom than usual and it shows for the most part (looking at you Justice League. Thanks a lot Whedon. Asshole.) The actors have really been into the roles they recieve in the DCEU too, and seem to be doing their research and even taking on leadership roles early in their film making careers (looking at you Margot. Keep doing your thing, I love you)
Two (whew already?), this is going to be a challenge BECAUSE I am a fanboy. I'm really going to try to do my best to be objective on this one and look at the whole picture the first time around.
Three, this one has been sort of polarizing. I am really excited to be taking this one on early in my reviewing "career". My understanding on this one going in is as follows: BOP (c'mon I'm not writing it out folks) was well recieved, critically. I understand it to be largely positively reviewed, with a few perfectionists and blowhards having their say (ugh). It did NOT, however take in the bucks, but it did make a small profit. There have been a few takes on this: One, marketing wasn't great. It took a long time for them to put anything out, and when they FINALLY did it was minimal and confusing. Folks also took issue with the title, saying it was too long. WB reacted (c'mon assholes stop it already you are only proving me right) by changing the title. I dont even remember what it was changed to it was that silly and irrelevant. Two, there MAY be some genre fatigue. Marvel just finished the largest and most expansive cinematic work of all time. This was released just after an unbelievable Joker movie. The only character known by folks not already in the know is Joker's sidekick (originally) and there may not be a Joker in this film, and who would it be anyways, Leto or Phoenix? Plus all anyone wants to talk about at the time was Wonder Woman 84, and confusing news about a reboot (or something?) Batman movie and the state of the MCU. Three, this one takes us from the one shot Joker right back to the universe that Whedon and the Warners potentially destroyed (thanks assholes) with a SUPER botched cut of Justice League.
Enough context, I can't wait anymore for this. (Goddamn finally I thought he would never shut up) On with the show!!
First and most obvious. I love Margot Robbie so much. She clearly has nothing but unconditional and complete love for her character. She has clearly done her research and has the absolute best time becoming Harley. I dont care much for the trash rat aesthetic though. That seems to be something David Ayer and his design staff came up with for Suicide Squad, and everyone REALLY bit into it and I REALLY dont like it. If I HAD to say there was a redeeming factor to it it is that it helps to physically illustrate Harley's fucking nutso disorganized mess of a brain. Other than design it actually seems like everyone did their research, and had a great time, and presented deep, complex characters with solid developmental points, even with the hop around style of storytelling, which in and of itself serves as a great method of telling this story, and surprisingly never leaves you lost.
Callback cliches abound in this one. They dont exactly telegraph it in the set up but man the last 30 minutes are FULL of callbacks to things dropped into earlier parts of the film.
For a film so full of LONG shots, some of the action sequences are awfully cutty. It's really distracting and takes away from the fact that these women did so many of their own stunts and fight scenes.
I loved that this film showed a Gotham that was truly dragged through the dirt. It is violent, pulls no punches and really carries the scenery Zach Snyder set up for this shit town in BVS (I'm not typing out BOP, do you really thing I'm writing that one out?)
I like the setups at the end and the connective tissue throughout to the rest of the DCEU. Well executed without drowning you in it and sacrificing the story. I am, however SUPER disappointed in the absence of a Barbara Gordon. I held out hope there might have been a connection in spite of there not being one in the aforementioned "marketing" but there wasn't anything. It was a good team origin story but I dont much care for a Birds of Prey with no mention of Oracle or Batgirl (if you know who I'm talking about you know why it is important).
Not much in the way of an original score. I dont think the story suffers for it though. A story told by post-Joker Harley Quinn isn't necessarily served by an original score. Distortions of things that are familiar to you are a perfect way of punctuating this one. I dig it.
Not much in the way of effects of this one. Pretty lo-fi as far as medium-big budget comic book flick goes. Well executed. I think the only thing that threw me was Sionis' mask. It is supposed to be made of ebony from his father's casket. It jiggles a LOT for something made of ebony. That said I dont remember that detail being made known so I guess it is forgivable, even if it does look sort of silly in the face (lol see what I did?) of being menacing.
Overall Verdict-- I genuinely dont see the OVERALL hate for DC Comics films. I understand the occasional fuck-up, but Marvel has had missteps too, and dont get this level of hate. This should not have been as polarizing as it was. It is a fun movie. It's not horribly made, in fact quite the opposite. It's an all girl team up a la Deadpool. There was enough for fanboys of the film's, of the comics, and it was good even for those not in the know (just ask my wife, she loved it). Fuck the haters, this is a good one. I could see not only me but my wife rewatching this one.
Final Grade--Solid B+. Give me ALL the long single cut fight scenes and this is an easy A.
#birds of prey and the emancipation of one harley quinn#bop#harley quinn#dc comics#birds of prey#dceu#dc heroes#movie#review
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Ask games #5: last one I promise!!! 28,30,33 for jihan I’m hopeless supernaturals AU. also yes everyone thinks you’re a hoe for jihan bc I keep requesting them. Muahahhaahhahahaha
you have absolutely no self-control you know that? but i guess it is about time i write jihan for hopeless supernaturals au >_>
#28: “Stop poking me!”#30: “Could you be like…a little less idiotic?”#33: “Do you trust me?”
There’s a running bet for how long it’ll take Seungkwan and Hansol to get their shit together. It ranges from three months (Jihoon and Soonyoung) to four years (Minghao – but only because he’s not allowed to say never). Jisoo and Jeonghan are hoping they’ll get together within the month so they can collect on the pot that’s growing outrageously. The current amount is somewhere in the high three hundred thousands.
Jeonghan wants it.
He sighs loudly, cheek pressed against his hand as he watches the lunch crowd pass by the window. The cafe is bustling, but he has a not-date with Jisoo in ten minutes.
Jisoo, the absolute walking dream, walks in with pastries and an innocuously filled flask in hand, as well as Jeonghan’s favourite mug of tea.
“What’re you thinking about?” Jisoo inquires, sliding into the empty seat with a serene smile.
Slipping a love potion into Jisoo’s drink is totally unethical, Jeonghan reminds himself. He takes a loud slurp of his drink so he has time to compose himself. “Love potions,” he answers honestly. “Our time limit for Operation VernKwan is coming up soon. I don’t wanna lose out on three hundred thousand won.”
Jisoo quirks an eyebrow, delicately biting into a mini apple tart. His elongated fang glints in the afternoon light and Jeonghan has to resist the urge to run his fingers over it like he wants to. Yeah, he’s kinda got it bad, but it could be worse. Unlike someone (Jihoon), he can at least admit when he has a crush. It’s exhausting being friends with a pack of werewolves that have no sense of emotional maturity.
“I don’t think that’s ethical,” Jisoo muses. There’s a slight sheen of caramelised sugar on his lips and Jeonghan aches.
“Who cares about ethical? I want my money.”
Even as Jeonghan says that, he softens the announcement with a cheeky grin. Of course it’s not ethical; what’s the point of being in love if it’s not real? He hums thoughtfully, eyeing Jisoo over the rim of his mug as the vampire finishes off his tart.
Jisoo meets his gaze, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“I think it’s at least worth ten bucks.” Jeonghan reaches over – giving into his own urges – and swipes the crystallised sugar from Jisoo’s lips. He lets his thumb linger. Maybe if he pretends hard enough, he doesn’t have to act like he’s being that pathetic.
Jisoo’s cheeks are red in the sunlight streaming through the windows. With the bustle of people around them, Jeonghan can almost trick himself into thinking that Jisoo might feel the same way.
“I was thinking that maybe we should lock Hansol and Seungkwan in a room and make them work it out,” Jeonghan says eventually, absently licking the sugar off his thumb. (Jisoo’s eyes follows his tongue hungrily, but Jeonghan is too deep in his thoughts to notice.)
Jisoo clears his throat. “Minghao already tried. Seungkwan ended up crying and Hansol ended up biting Mingyu.”
“Oh.” Jeonghan wrinkles his nose. “What a crybaby.”
“Jeonghan!” Jisoo admonishes, poking Jeonghan’s arm. “Be nice. Sirens don’t do well in enclosed spaces.”
“Let’s just handcuff them together,” the witch suggests.
Jisoo pokes him again, a little harder this time.
“No! That’s not nice. What if they have to go to the bathroom?”
Jeonghan waggles his eyebrows in response. He earns another poke, this time to his bottom rib. He chuckles, slapping Jisoo’s hand away.
“Are you sure a love potion is off the table?” Jeonghan says, almost genuine. It’s so pathetic to see Hansol mooning after Seungkwan the way he does.
Jisoo rolls his eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “Could you be, like, a little less… idiotic?” He punctuates his statement with another poke, this time higher up on Jeonghan’s ribs.
Jeonghan barks out a surprised laugh, curling away from the vampire’s evil fingers. “Stop poking me! You’re making it hard to think.”
Jisoo raises his eyebrows, mischief glinting in his amber eyes. “Oh, are you ticklish?”
He wriggles his fingers threateningly. Jeonghan flinches away out of self preservation. He narrows his eyes at Jisoo.
“If you tickle me again,” Jeonghan states, “I’ll hex you. Don’t think I won’t, bitch.”
“No, you won’t,” Jisoo says confidently. There’s a smirk on his lips and Jeonghan wishes he didn’t find it so attractive.
Jeonghan huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I won’t.”
Jisoo hums under his breath, a wordless song that was probably around longer than Jeonghan has been alive. In times like these, Jisoo feels like something ethereal – like something he isn’t fit to touch.
“I wouldn’t give them a love potion. It wouldn’t work,” Jeonghan says after watching Jisoo pluck at another mini tart sitting between them. It’s technically Jeonghan’s, but he doesn’t really like sweets, so he slides the treat over to Jisoo just to watch his face light up. “There’s already love between them.”
Yeah, Jeonghan’s bad at a lot of spellcasting. He can’t do hexes or curses, nor is he particularly good at potions. He can’t do herbal magic, nor crystal magic. He has a wand, but it’s gathering dusk in his bedside drawer, since he doesn’t do duelling magic that well and most potions already have the magic imbued in the ingredients. He’s not the best witch, but he can sense love and there’s more than enough of it between Hansol and Seungkwan. They just need to get their heads out of their asses.
“Can you see it?” Jisoo asks, tilting his head curiously. He looks like a cat, curling up contentedly in the class across from Jeonghan.
“See what?” Jeonghan laughs, sipping his tea. “The love? Yeah, sometimes. When it’s strong enough.”
Jisoo’s eyes are razor sharp as he leans forward. “Do you trust me?” he says abruptly.
Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure,” he snorts, fiddling with his mug absently.
“Close your eyes.”
There’s a weird emotion flashing through Jisoo’s eyes. “I don’t know if I should,” Jeonghan jokes nervously, but shuts his eyes anyway. He doesn’t have anything to be nervous about.
The cafe is a lot quieter now. The lunch crowd has come and gone, staying only long enough to get their food and drinks before leaving. The scent of coffee permeates the very walls, probably too saturated with the scent to ever be washed away.
And the lips pressed against Jeonghan’s are soft and cold.
Jeonghan gasps, eyes flying open. Jisoo is right there, eyes dark and unsure. He’s only mere inches away, his breath brushing Jeonghan’s lips. He’s like marble and art and everything Jeonghan doesn’t deserve.
“Is this okay?” Jisoo whispers. His eyelashes kiss his cheekbones as he blinks.
Love potions would never work on me, Jeonghan thinks, helpless lost. I’m too in love with you.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” Jeonghan breathes, leaning forward to capture Jisoo’s lips once more.
Hansol and Seungkwan can figure themselves out.
Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!
#seventeen#svt#btsvt-adventures#serrauthor replies#hopeless supernaturals au#jeonghan#joshua#jisoo#jihan#i'm gonna end up writing their first meeting eventually#serrauthor ask game no. 5#this took me literally forever#serra's sebtin writes
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The Lily Farm - Chapter 30
AO3 | Masterpost
Rating: M (Mature) - sexual content, violence, and adult themes
Summary:
To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey to the north, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life, like the wilderness, is full of uncertainty and complications, and as they embark on their desperate search for meaning together, they endure many trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to one another, and to their future.
Chapter 30: Don’t go it alone.
Sadie and Charles were sitting in the saloon of St. Denis, upstairs in a quiet corner, counting out their money on Colm O’Driscoll’s bounty. It was $3,000. The Sheriff had wanted him alive, said there would have been big Pinkerton money in it for them, too, if he’d been available for questioning. It was a fools errand, though. Sadie had been quiet ever since they got to the bar, chain-smoking. Charles smoked a lot, too. Ashes fell all over the stacks of bills as they counted them, sipping their bourbon. At some point, when the number was confirmed, Sadie put her head in her hands and dipped the cigarette in a crystal ash tray. Charles took out a little tin of tobacco and some papers and went about rolling a few more cigarettes. He sprinkled in some of the dried marijuana plant, too, but only in those he rolled for himself. He left it out of Sadie’s, as she did not prefer its effects. He hadn’t really spent a lot of time with Sadie before. She impressed him.
“You okay?” he said after a little while, sealing the last cigarette with his tongue.
“This fuckin bounty,” she said. He handed her one of the cigarettes. She studied it. “I feel cheated, real bad. I ain’t sure what I’m aiming for.”
“You wanted to kill Colm.” He lit the cigarette for her, then lit his own. “Understandable.”
Sadie exhaled. “Look, I’m not saying I could have, or that it was even my place. Dutch had his own bone to pick. I just—” She hung her head. She seemed exhausted. “I ain’t finished, Charles. Those fuckers ruined my life.”
Charles sighed. He began stacking the bills, storing them neatly in his pack. “If it’s revenge you want, you’ll get it,” he said. “I just don’t know if it’ll help.”
“Oh, it’ll help,” said Sadie.
“If you say so.”
She took a long drag and looked around. She wore some sort of make-up on her eyes that had smudged underneath, making her look sort of feral. “Sometimes I think about Arthur,” she said. “And you. You’re both good men. I still wonder what the hell it is you’re doing here.”
“Doing where.”
“Doing with Dutch,” she said. “He’s insane. You know that, right?”
“I know it ain’t perfect,” said Charles, “but it’s better than being alone.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve made a real friend in Arthur," said Charles. "I don’t know. Dutch may be eccentric, but he gave me a home. Gave me brothers. The thought of going back to a lonely existence—it makes me sad. Besides, we’ve all got our own bone to pick, Sadie.”
She looked at him, real long and glassy. “I guess you’re probably right,” she said.
“And anyway,” said Charles, closing his pack, gathering some of the ashes off the table and into his hand, “Arthur and Mary Beth, they’re getting out. John and Abigail, too. They wanna go north, soon. I might see about going with them.”
“Seriously?” said Sadie. “Where they headed?”
“I think Arthur said Wisconsin,” he said. “It’s close to Canada. I’m not sure what they have planned, but knowing Arthur, he’ll wanna live honest.”
“Shit,” said Sadie, ashing the cigarette. “I can’t believe Dutch is gonna let him go.”
Charles took a long drink, maybe too much too fast. His throat burned. He cleared his throat. “Whether Dutch is letting him go,” he said, “I have no idea. But I get the sense that Arthur is pretty serious. And Mary Beth, she is, too.”
“You know when I first got in with—you all,” said Sadie, “Mary Beth and Abigail were some of the first people to actually talk to me. Everyone else was sort of…afraid of me. Nobody likes a widow. It’s too goddam sad, even in this fuckin life. But they seemed to sympathize with what I was going through. They…helped me.” She took a long drink. She never really looked Charles in the eye as she spoke. She just looked down at the table where she was drawing invisible shapes on the wood. “And Arthur, he’s like you, and Dutch. You all treat me like a person. Not like no girl. I used to think some of the women around camp, they was just whores, looking for hand-outs. Not that I’m judging no dove. I’m just saying. I come to see I was wrong. They’re real strong, in their own ways. They’re stable. And then there’s me. The fuckin monster among them.” She finished her smoke, put it out on the surface of the table. “I can’t do this anymore, Charles.”
“You wanna hunt some O’Driscolls?” said Charles, catching her drift. “I’ll go with you. You’re not a monster, Sadie, but you’ll become one if you’re not careful. It ain’t the killing that’ll do it either. It’s the loneliness.”
Sadie looked up at him, full of dark curiosity. “Is that why you’re here?” she said. “Because you was becoming a monster?”
Charles nodded. “We’ve all been there, Sadie. We just don’t all make it to the other side.”
Sometimes, Sadie missed Jake so much, she could feel her skin itching, like her body was turning inside-out. She was just so goddam sick of feeling sad. She smoked.
My dearest Hosea,
I have decided that it is time for me to ante up and marry Mary Beth. She is pregnant, and in times of such turbulence all around, it has become clear that I do not wish to wait any longer. I have sent for Reverend Swanson to meet us at a bed and breakfast near Emerald Ranch called Wintersons'—as long as he is cleaned up enough to undertake the task, of course. John, Abigail, and the boy will already be there, having agreed to meet us for a couple of nights, and we would greatly love for you and Dutch to meet us there as well.
Please do not tell anyone else in the camp. We regret that they cannot all be there as witnesses, but we wish to keep a low profile, for obvious reasons. Tell Dutch that this does not negate our arrangement, and that as long as things stay in general control, Mary Beth and I, while still eager to set forth on our own soon, will stay as long as we must to help create a clear passage for the gang out of trouble. You can count on us.
Mary Beth is doing well, though she is somewhat more tired than usual. We will make our ride to Emerald Station over a period of two days. If you would meet us there on the 30th, then we will wait for you. Having you both there would mean a lot, as you’re like a couple of fathers to us. Please consider my request.
With love,
Arthur
Abigail and John were riding north to Emerald Ranch, headed through Scarlet Meadows. Jack was on John’s horse with him, and at one point demanded that John stop so that he could count the points on a great, elegant buck that had sprung across the path.
“I thought I saw twelve,” said Jack.
“Jesus,” said John, pulling back on the reins, trying to see after the buck. It was gone though. “That’s real good, son.” He scratched his head. “You can count to twelve?”
“Yep,” said Jack. “Uncle Arthur helps me with my numbers sometimes.”
John sighed, put the horse back to a trot. “Of course he does.”
“This is real pretty country up here,” said Abigail, breathless, falling a little behind. “Refreshing. I really need to get out more.”
“It was nice of Arthur,” said John. “Inviting us. Don’t you think?”
“It was,” said Abigail. “I’m glad you two seem to be getting on these days.”
“Me, too.”
“And we’re all gonna be on our best behavior at this kind stranger’s house,” she continued. “Am I heard?”
“Of course, mama,” said Jack. “I even made a necklace for the doctor’s wife, like the one I made you. Arthur said he was a doctor, right?”
Abigail laughed. “Yes, he did. And that’s real kind, Jack. Though it ain’t really you I’m talking to.”
John gave her a look. “What do you think I’m gonna do?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Accidentally use the wrong fork? Shoot the poor bastard?”
“Just try to keep a goddam lid on your foul mouth for once,” she said.
“My foul mouth?” said John. He started to laugh. “You’re one to talk.”
“Excuse me?”
He picked up the pace, ignoring her question. “Let’s get a move on,” he said. “I wanna get there before the sun goes down.”
Abigail sighed, entirely distracted by the blue sky. “Sounds fine. I just—I like looking at the scenery is all.”
“I know you do,” said John, glancing back at her, watching her watch the sky. He began dreaming then, as he led the way. It was unlike him to fantasize but he thought maybe, just maybe this was the new beginning he had been working for. The way to giving her and the boy—all of them—a better life.
They got to the Wintersons' at about half past six. They hitched up away from the road near some trees and John thought he heard hounds in the distance. He helped both Jack and Abigail down from the horses.
“Hmm,” said Abigail. “I thought you said Arthur and Mary Beth would be here by now. I don't see Sarah or Watson.”
“Maybe they’re hitched up in the stables?” said John.
“Maybe,” said Abigail, dusting off her dress. “Or maybe they ain’t here yet. Grab that valise now, off the saddle. It’s got everything.”
“Can do,” said John.
They went up the lawn, all grown with pretty wildflowers. It was sort of feral greenery, but lovely. As something you might see in a painting. They went up to the porch, and John knocked on the door as politely as he knew how.
After a minute or so, the door opened, and there was a nice-looking man standing there with glasses and a shotgun down by his side. He must have been in his early fifties. “Can I help you?” he said.
“Uh, yes,” said John. He held up his hands on instinct, and Abigail tugged them back down again, in a corrective but gracious manner. John was not used to polite society. He removed his hat. “My name is uh, John Marston. This is my wife Abigail, and our boy Jack. We was just—we’re here because—uh, well.” He looked at Abigail, who nodded, then he looked back to the man. “Arthur Morgan invited us?”
Right away the man acknowledged. He hung up his shotgun next to the door. He smiled. “Yes, right. The Marstons,” he said. “We’ve been expecting you. Come on in.” He stepped aside so they could pass through the threshold and into the house. “We’ve got your rooms all prepared.”
“Rooms?” said John, looking around, taking inventory of all the homey trappings and the bookshelves and the warm, yellow light from the lanterns. “We only need one.”
“Oh, well, we have a room with a few small beds and a toy box, designated for children. We assumed you’d want your boy to stay there. We have a separate room, just for you and your wife.”
“Separate rooms?” said Abigail. “Well, that does sound nice. Thank you, sir.”
“It’s no problem,” said the man. He held out his hand then, to John. “My name is Lawrence Winterson. I own this establishment.”
John shook his hand, and then Abigail shook his hand, and then Jack. “Nice to meet you, sir. This place is…it’s really something.”
“Well, thank you. My wife keeps a lovely home.”
“I just—I don’t mean to sound like an idiot," said John, "but two rooms—how much is that gonna run extra?”
“What do you mean?” said Lawrence.
“Well, we’re paying for the rooms, of course,” said John. “I was just wondering.”
“Oh, it’s on us,” said Lawrence. “The second room, I mean. On account of special circumstances.”
“Special circumstances?” said Abigail. “What special circumstances.”
“The wedding, of course.”
“Wedding?” said John.
A little woman came out then from a side room, about the same age, maybe a little younger than Lawrence. She held in her hands a large swath of white threaded cotton. She smiled.
“Oh, this is my wife,” said Lawrence. “Lizette.”
“You may call me Liz,” she said with her French accent. She curtsied. “Bonsoir.”
“Bonsoir,” said Abigail, curtsying right back. “This—your home is mighty nice.”
“Thank you,” said Lizette. Then she nodded at Jack. “Bonsoir, young man.”
“Uh, bonsoir,” said Jack. He bowed. Then he reached into his pocket. “I made you this.” He presented the necklace—a little daisy chain.
Lizette was overcome. She took the necklace and put it on right away. “Ah, merci. I am undeserving.”
“They’re daisies,” said Jack.
She patted him on the head.
“Well,” said John, a little hurried. “This is all—well. It’s all well and good.” He then turned back to Lawrence. “But can we get back to this wedding? Whose wedding?”
“Oh, of course,” said Lawrence, cleaning his glasses on the flap of his shirt. “I guess I just assumed you knew.”
“You assumed I knew what.”
“Mr. Morgan and Miss Gaskill, they’re getting married here, in just a few days.”
“They’re getting married?” said Abigail, all pretty and lit. “Here?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Lawrence. “We’re actually expecting a few more guests. A Reverend, and a few men, friend’s of Arthur’s, who’s names I—I have written down here somewhere, but they’re lost on me now.”
“Dutch, Hosea, and Hamish,” said Lizette.
“Yes. Thank you, mon amour. Dutch, Hosea, and Hamish. Do you know them?”
“Who the hell is Hamish?” said Abigail.
John gave her a look. “Language, Abbie.”
She blushed. “I mean—wow. This is a surprise.”
“Well, now you know,” said Lawrence, glancing around. “Arthur and Mary Beth are running a little late for some undisclosed reasons. I believe they’re up near O'Creagh's Run and will be with us at some point tomorrow evening.”
“Uncle Arthur and Aunt Mary Beth are getting married?” said Jack.
“Yeah,” said John. “They are.”
“Wow. That’s wonderful.”
Abigail hugged him to her thigh. “Yes, it is you sweet child. Now run off and find you room.”
“Okay, mama.”
Lawrence directed him up the stairs and down a hallway to the left.
“He is very articulate, no?” said Lizette to Abigail. She was so tiny. Her hair was knotted in curls all piled atop her head. “For a boy of his age, I mean.”
“Yes, he’s whip smart,” said Abigail. “He’s learning to read.”
“How advanced.”
“Can I show you both to your room?” said Lawrence. “It’s upstairs, just one door down from the boy’s.”
“That would be great,” said John. “Thank you, sir. And thank you, ma’am.”
“It is our pleasure,” said Lizette.
When they got up to their room, they stood in the doorway for a moment, assessing the beauty of it all. It was very simple: a white bed with a pretty bedskirt and heavy linen curtains that hung in a very traditional fashion. Abigail had always desired a bedskirt, like the kinds they had in hotels. It was like a pretty dream, like being a cloud. She went in to touch the curtains and look out the window. The glass was very clean. When she turned back around, she saw John, standing very pensive in the doorway. He took a step inside and closed the door, then he dropped the bag on the floor and sat down on the bed.
“What is it?” she said.
He sat with his back to her, facing the door. She saw his back rise and fall in a deep breath. “I just—” He hung his head low. He had his elbows resting on his knees. He had worn a nice jacket, the nicest one he owned. “Why didn’t he tell me?” he said.
Abigail shrugged, even though he couldn’t see her. “You talking about Arthur?”
“Yeah,” said John. He took off his gloves, one by one, set them on the white bedspread. She walked around the bed so she could see him. He went on, but he didn’t look up at her. “I mean, I thought we was friends, Abigail. Brothers. Going north together—becoming a family. But he didn’t tell me they was engaged, and now I’m hearing about their wedding secondhand from a goddam stranger?”
“He ain’t a stranger to Arthur.”
“You know what I mean,” said John. “It's just that sometimes I’m worried I fucked up so much, so bad, that I’ll never get it back—his trust. His forgiveness. And now, so much of what he has, it’s outside the gang. It’s new people. It’s where he’s headed. He’s starting…new.”
Abigail sighed. She went and sat next to him on the bed, folding her hands in her lap. “It means a lot to you, don’t it. To be a part of his life.”
“Yes,” said John.
“John, you known Arthur a long time,” she said. “Things has been…difficult between you. But he wouldn’t’ve asked you to go north with him if he didn’t mean it. And he may be the strong, silent type, but he ain’t a perfect man neither. He’s done his share of wrong, and he knows it. He's trying his best, just like you. Give it time.”
“You’re right,” said John, nodding. “I know you’re right.”
“And anyway,” said Abigail. “I think I know why he didn’t tell you. About the wedding.”
He looked up from his hands. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, before they left, Mary Beth told me she thought she might be pregnant.”
“She’s pregnant?”
Abigail nodded. “Now, shotgunning like this? She probably told Arthur, and he just…he pulled the trigger. It’s like him.”
John sighed. He hadn’t thought of his, but it seemed fair. “Yeah, that makes sense,” he said. “Especially after Eliza, Mary. All that drama. He wouldn’t wanna wait too long if he could help it.”
“See? It ain’t so bad.”
John nodded. “Thanks, Abbie.”
“You’re welcome.” She patted him on the knee. A moment went by, as if it were nothing. As if it were old times, in Denver where they met.
She let her hand linger out of some hopeful feeling inside. He took it, gentle. It was as she had wanted but not what she expected. She let him hold her hand, studying her knuckles as if he had forgotten what they looked like. It was real nice. Then he laced their fingers together, firmly, and he looked right at her. He had this way. John wasn't the most complex man she'd ever known, but he was true. His eyes were very dark, like these molten trees. He had his hair knotted back so she could see his whole face—the mean scars that brought back scary memories. But he was brave, and he wore them bravely. He was looking at her with feeling. She was hesitant, but eventually, she offered him the same.
“What’s the matter?” she said.
“Nothing,” he said. He put a little bit of the hair behind her ear. She flinched at first. She wasn't used to it. But she was actually glad. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," she said. "It's fine."
“It’s just—you’re smart, Abbie," he said. "Real smart. You know that? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She blushed hard, glanced down at her boots. Somewhere outside the window, you could hear a couple of mourning doves, singing their sad song. “Oh, please.”
“I’m serious,” he said, still staring. She looked back, and he held here eyes there. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Abigail.”
“For what?"
“For everything,” he said. "Everything."
She didn’t know what they were doing all of a sudden. “John—”
“Wait,” he said. He shifted toward her. Getting closer. His voice was soft. “Wait. Just let me finish.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, still holding her hand, now in both of his. “For leaving you, alone. All them years ago. I’m sorry for getting drunk and doing stupid shit when I was supposed to be being a father to Jack. I done you wrong, but I just—you’ve stuck by me. You’re here. You’re giving me a second chance, and I don’t know why.”
She was staring at him now, listening to the doves outside. A wind came through as well and shook the window panes. She felt like crying. “It’s because I love you, John Marston,” she said. “Why the hell else would I be here?”
She could hear his breathing. She could smell his skin. She had not been close to him like this in some time. She waited.
Finally, he spoke. “We haven't kissed in so long,” he said, like he was reading her mind. “So long, I’ve almost forgotten what it was. In the beginning, when it was new, and it was…simple. I know it ain’t new no more, and I know it ain’t simple. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“What are you saying?”
“That I love you, too," he said. "I never stopped."
“Oh, John—”
“Can I kiss you?” he said. “If you say no, that's okay, Abbie. I'll understand. I can wait.”
She was hanging by a thread by now. It had been a gamble, but John Marston was good at gambling. Their breathing was all shaky, like a couple of teenagers. She nodded, surprising them both. “Okay,” she said. “Just a kiss.”
“That’s all I’m asking,” he said.
So he leaned in, and he kissed her, and outside the doves were quiet, as if they knew the time had come.
Earlier that day, Arthur and Mary Beth were packing up their horses, getting ready to head southwest toward Emerald Ranch. Hamish went inside, and Mary Beth was standing over by the lake’s edge, tossing rocks into the water. He went to her and smiled.
“I’m gonna miss it,” she said. “That’s all. I like it here.”
“Yeah. I know you do,” he said. Then he took a deep breath and held her hand. “Come on. Walk with me.”
“Where we goin?”
“Not far. Don’t worry.”
They walked along the lake, around it for a little ways. The sun made it look silvery. There were geese and ducks and some deer drinking out on the other side. When they got far enough that they were very alone, they stopped and Mary Beth was quiet, full of appreciation for the beauty in the world around her. “What’s going on, Arthur?” she said.
“Nothing,” he said. “Or, well. I got something for you.”
This shifted her attention. She turned to him. “You do?”
“I do.” He sighed. He reached into his pocket, produced the little velvet box. He gave it to her.
“What’s this?” she said, turning it in her hands.
“It’s a ring,” said Arthur.
She looked at him in some combination of surprise and excitement. “A ring?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Now, if you don’t like it, or you want something different, it’s okay. We can go straight off, buy you what you want after the wedding.”
“The wedding?” she said.
He nodded, very calm. “At the Wintersons,'’” he said. “I hope it’s okay. I’ve already sent for Reverend Swanson and Dutch and Hosea to meet us there. Just them three, plus the Marstons. We can have a party later, with everyone. But for now, I—after talking to Hamish last night, I realized that there’s no good reason to wait. Just no good reason.”
After a moment of what felt like floating, Mary Beth flew forward in her way, held him tightly. She had to be up on her tip-toes. Her hair tickled his chin and nose. “Oh, Arthur.”
He let out a mighty sigh and thanked the lord.
She was crying a little. She dropped back down so she could look at him, wiped her eyes.
"Don't cry," he said.
"It ain't bad," she said. “I promise. These is tears of joy. But Arthur, when did you have the time to find a post office?”
He found this amusing. “I woke up at about four this morning. You was sleeping like a rock, Mary Beth. I rode to Annesburg and paid a messenger double to make sure it gets to Shady Belle by tomorrow morning. Then, I rode back.”
“Arthur,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, would you please look at the ring and tell me if it’s okay?”
“Oh, right,” she said. Off in the distance a flock of geese picked up and took off into the air. The ducks went after. She opened the box and looked at the ring, the pretty purple stone, so dainty and royal. She took it out and slipped it onto her finger. It was a touch big, but it would do for the time. She had heard of a trick where she could tie a piece of string to the inside of the band and make it more snug till they could get to a goldsmith and have it sized. “It’s beautiful, Arthur.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Where did you find it?”
“Hamish,” he said. “I tried to discourage him, but he would not take no for an answer.”
This seemed to touch Mary Beth deeply.
He took the empty velvet box and tucked it back into his pocket. Then he took both her hands in his and looked at her. The day was so pretty in the sunlight, next to the silvery lake. “You and me,” he said. “Forever. You okay with that?”
She said yes. He put his arm around her in his casual way. Then they looked out past the lake and to Hamish’s house, where Mary Beth saw Hamish himself, saddling up his own pretty horse named Beull in a way that suggested he was coming with them. It made her happy. The whole thing made her so happy. Then she thought to herself that this was probably the last time she’d be up in this beautiful place for a long while. Despite it, she felt free. She looked up at Arthur as he seemed to be looking out at all of that truth out there, in nature. She’d never even known this place existed till he showed her.
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#arthur morgan#rdr2 fanfic#mary beth gaskill#mary-beth gaskill#john marston#abigail roberts#jack marston#charles smith#sadie adler#hamish sinclair#the wintersons#tons of characters in this chapter#big time john and abbie feels#<3#arthur x mary beth#arthur morgan x mary beth gaskill
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Just a baseball metaphor for life.
The fear of striking out.
Bucky x Reader
Warnings: swearing, mention of drinking, a bad date, some implied stuff, idk I'm not good with warnings. If something bothers you stop reading lol
Summary: You try to live by a simple cliche when it comes to dating. It pays off in the end.
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It was around 9:30 pm when your heels clacked down the compound hall. Fellow Avengers were seated throughout the common area and took note of your entrance. You heard a few hellos and nodded your head in an acknowledging manner. However, you made a bee-line for the fridge and pulled out one of your beers. That was where your full attention lied. Then you plopped down on the couch next to Wanda and kicked off your shoes. With a sigh a big drink was taken and you leaned your head back.
"So what are we doing tonight?" Your eyes were closed and spoke open to the room.
Wanda spoke back first. "Thought you had a date?"
You dryly laughed/scoffed and picked your head back up to turn to her. "Nope. Left that douche at the bar. I got there a smidge earlier to be on time, and he was there too. No big deal, so as I start to make my way over to him through the crowd, I see him hit on some chick. Hand on back, whisper into ear, the main deal. However, he noticed me. The fucker played like nothing happened and then called me the wrong name. I corrected him and he smiled but rolled his eyes as he turned to herd me toward the bar."
Rhodey replied, "So what did you do? You left like an hour ago. Did you stay?"
You smiled to yourself. "Not too long. I ordered a drink that entails nearly 3 top shelf liquors, flirted with the bartender, then left after my drink to leave him with the bill. I may have also ordered a round of shots for some birthday girl and her friends. Also on his tab."
The room laughed and you tucked your legs under yourself. Finally you relaxed and hung out with your friends. Eventually Nat, Steve, and Bucky walked in. Nat asked about the dress you were still wearing and you repeated the story. She too took amusement in how you got some revenge. Steve's comment kept the conversation going however.
"Was this the same guy you went out with like a week ago or so?" He made a questioning face at you.
You nodded no and finished your beer. "Nah that was another guy, Ryan. He was sweet actually. He just blew me off about going out again. I tried a few times but he kept dodging it so I don't know. I've just been striking out a bit I guess. But when I was younger I didn't date really at all so I'm not letting a few misses deter me." Your face was neutral and you shrugged your shoulders. The statement you made was honest and you saw no problem with it.
"Maybe the relics over here should follow that mentality. Haven't seen either of them go out in a while." Laughter filled the room again and Bucky and Steve rolled their eyes at Wanda.
Steve looked to his friend, "Buck has gone out a couple of times. I think anyway? But I am always busy and just don't feel like it."
Rhodey and Wanda scoffed. You're pretty sure you heard a lame get muttered. But the conversation shifted and after a bit you realized you were still in your dress. Getting up, you mentioned you would be right back. You went to your room and changed into your sleep shorts and an old shirt from high school. Soon you walked out of your room and over to get another beer and you saw Bucky peering in for something to get.
From behind him you spoke up. "Mind grabbing me one of my beers Sarge?" He jumped a bit and you giggled.
As he grabbed one and handed it to you and muttered, "Keep laughing damn it. Maybe I will take your last ones." His fingers brushed yours. The bottle was cold and you felt the contrast of his warm hand. In an overthinking manner, you could have sworn that his hand lingered. But you brushed it off and spoke back to him as he turned back to the fridge.
"With you I think I'm willing to share. However, let me drink away this bad date then ask for some." Your smile was bright against the fridge light. His gaze was still on the fridge, but as he grabbed some beer he spoke.
"You shouldn't have to do that in the first place Y/N." He spoke softly and firmly. Almost as though this was not his first time thinking this.
You rolled your eyes and he shut the fridge. "Well yeah I know that. But I try to not let the fear, and actuality, of striking out keep me from playing this game called dating. There will be a few hard balls but that's what alcohol is for." You giggled and sipped your beer. "Besides, I don't expect it easy for a badass Avenger to date. Not many guys like my attitude or just find it intimidating." You shrugged your shoulders and began walking back to where the others were located.
Before he spoke, Bucky took a deep breath. He looked at you and made sure to speak up before you walked out. "Ever thought going out with another Avenger might be easier?" He sounded like a kid asking for an outrageous present. You turned on your feet to look at him.
His tone gave a pretty good implication of what he was asking, so did his face, but you wanted to hear it for sure. "And tell me Sarge. What Avenger is interested in taking my cute ass out on a date?" Setting your beer down, you crossed your arms and smirked at his eye roll.
"Y/N I swear to God you are going to make this hard for me aren't you?" He groaned and stepped closer to you. "Come on you know I like you! You are the only one who makes me feel like a normal guy in this place. Other than the flirting and shit you treat me just like Steve or Sam. A normal, incredibly handsome guy."
"Fine fine, you get a pass since watching you struggle like this is very cute. And yeah I had a slight guess you liked me, but I wasn't gonna chase someone. I knew you'd grow a pair sooner than later." You walked up to him and put your arms around his shoulders.
He followed suit and looked down at you. "Then why date those jerks? You like me, know I like you, but keep going out?"
"Like I said. I wasn't waiting. But I thought after one or so you would make your own move. I don't know get jealous or something? I didn't think it would take a continuation of me going on dates and me standing in sleep clothes for you to admit anything." He understood where you were coming from. Regardless, he squeezed your hips and got close to your face.
"No need to wait anymore. And your shorts drive me crazy, they’re soft and I like them. Now can I kiss you? Or at least get a date set?" Smirking you spoke softly back to him.
"Aw look at you Sarge, making moves finally." And with that his lips were on yours and you smiled into the kiss. Somehow, he pulled you closer. When both of you pulled away you faintly heard footsteps and Natasha's voice.
"Don't worry guys. I found them. They were making out in the kitchen."
His forehead hit yours. "Guess they know now. Part of me wanted the secret for a bit. Also, keep callin' me Sarge. I like that too."
"Well Sarge.." He felt your fingers thread through his hairs at his neck. His response was another squeeze of your hips. "Whatever we may or may not do in your room later tonight and or after our date can remain a secret. No one needs to know a thing."
He hummed, "As much as I want to see what those shorts look like on my floor, let's wait for after a date or two. I am a gentleman after all. Plus, you're not some hookup."
Grabbing his hand to go back to the main room, the flutters in your stomach were uncontrollable. "Never said we were or were not those things. But you are still hot and we like and know each other."
"Wait then let's go!" He tried to pull towards his hall, but you continued to where everyone else was.
"Nuh uhh! You said after a date or so. Don't look at me like that..! Ok ok fine how about a different option. We face the others, I subtly tease you a bit for taking your damn time on asking me out, and then we see how the kiss goodnight goes at the end. Mkay?" You bit your lip and his face playfully looked as if to say 'Really..?' And you pulled him to the room, sat down next to him. Before the others got to you, you whispered in his ear. "Please, I can tell you don't mind a little teasing. Besides, if you like the shorts you will love what's underneath."
His jaw clenched a little and he looked to you. "You're gonna kill me aren't you?" He spoke back in the same tone you did. The lip bite you did made him want to go back to the kitchen just because it was the closest empty room. Your words back to him let him know both of your future dates were going to be a lot brighter with each other.
"Yeah. But it'll be worth it trust me." Then you turned to the others after winking at him.
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