#summer sunsets yeah.. i want 2 drown in a summer sunset again

[brutalistarchitecture2]

peach ice tea, those cute (expensive) grocery stores and summer sunsets <333

ALL OF THESE .. 1000%💢💢💢

#summer sunsets yeah.. i want 2 drown in a summer sunset again #kisses this is lovely ilyy #inbox

[imkylotrash]

Searching For Calm

Pairing: Sky x Stella. Sky x reader. 

Request: Maybe you could write a Sky one where reader is always there for him and he just sees Stella. So the reader (mind fairy) shuts herself out and it takes some time for him to notice. Anonymous

A/N Ignore the text on the gif. I couldn’t find one I liked for this fic. 

“Are we still on for tonight?” you ask knowing what’s coming but hoping you’re wrong. Sky doesn’t notice your face fall when he shakes his head.

“Sorry, I promised Stella she could come over. She had a rough day.” You want to scream at him that every day is hard for you. Every day you wake up and feel every emotion that runs through Alfea. Happy, sad, lonely, scared. Some days you can’t even figure out which feelings are your own. You want to confess how the only calm you ever feel is when you’re with Sky, but it doesn’t matter. He only has eyes for Stella. 

“Yeah, no problem. Talk tomorrow then?” He never has the chance to answer. Stella sits down on his lap stealing away the short time you and Sky had alone. You literally feel her dislike as she turns slightly your way. 

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah. There’s a lot of things you didn’t notice,” you mumble hinting at the five empty chairs around the table but they’re already to consumed by each other to pay any more attention to you. 

“Bye, Sky.” There’s no reply, but you didn’t expect one. It’s been 2 months like this ever since Stella decided that Sky was good enough for her despite her dumping him over the summer to spend time with other boys. A fact they’ve both decided to ignore. You put on headphones hoping it might help you drown out everyone’s emotions. You know Farah told you to focus on shutting other people’s emotions out, to only feel them when you want to. But lately, you haven’t been able to focus and you have a suspicion it might be related to the way Sky’s been treating you. 

“They’re locking tongues again. It’s getting disgusting.” Riven appears next to you with a sour look on his face. The one person who just might hate the relationship more than you. 

“I know. He cancelled on me again.” 

“He’s treating you like trash.” You sense his anger more than you see it. You’ve been a trio since you were young and Stella has gone ahead and ruined that. She dislikes you and Riven and for some reason Sky always chooses her. You guess love really does blind people. 

“He treats you like trash too,” you counter not ready to face the truth yet. 

“Yeah, but most of the time I deserve it. You, however, doesn’t ever deserve it.” He’s radiating affection as he looks at you. He’s well aware of your crush on Sky and he’s made his feelings clear on more than several occasions that you deserve someone who actually cares. He’s like your big brother, always looking out for you. 

“I was thinking I might just take some time to myself. See if he misses me.” It’s a very cruel game that you’ll be playing with yourself because you know he won’t notice. Not as long as he’s dating Stella. Riven puts his arm around you as you walk down the hallway. 

“I think that’s the smartest thing you’ve said in months.” You nudge him lightly but regrettably have to agree with him. In the next couple of weeks, you stay away from Sky. And even though you already knew his reaction, it still feels like someone is pulling at your heartstrings when you see him being just fine. It’s like he doesn’t even realise that you’re not around. Riven tries his hardest to cheer you up, but now that you’re without any comfort from your powers, you feel the toll much more than before. You start sleeping in Riven’s bed whenever Sky stays over at Stella’s. There’s nothing more than friendly comfort in it. Slowly, Riven becomes your escape from everyone else and it feels so good. You know you shouldn’t depend on others to help you cope with your feelings but it’s all you can do right now. Tonight is one of those nights where Riven has the room to himself. Or at least that’s what he’s been told by Sky but for some reason he stumbles through the door in the middle of the night. 

“Y/N?” He sees you first. There’s no missing the feeling of betrayal going through him. You know exactly what he’s thinking. Riven? Really? It’s all over his face and you hate it. You hate that he gets to judge you when he hasn’t talked to you in weeks. 

“I thought you were going to be with Stella tonight?” Riven starts to stir next to you.

“We got into a fight. What are you doing here?” 

“I’m sleeping.” You know you should tell him that there’s nothing between you and Riven but there’s a small, petty part of you that really likes how he feels right now. 

“Yeah, but with Riven? Are you dating or something?” He’s trying to act unbothered but you’re both painfully aware of your ability to feel everything he feels. 

“That’s none of your business, man.” Cue Riven who’s ready to provoke Sky. He’s been upset with him for a while and with the way Sky is acting right now, Riven can’t help himself. This is going to end in a fight if you don’t get it under control. 

“I can’t sleep alone, okay? I haven’t been able to for a while. Riven calms me.” You thought you were defusing the situation but somehow your comment just makes everything much worse.  

“He calms you? So I’m not good enough anymore?” His voice almost breaks and in turn something breaks inside of you. He doesn’t get to be the one with the broken heart. He let you go and forgot you even existed. He spent the last four weeks in Stella-land and now that they’ve had a fight, suddenly you’re good enough. You’re about to tell him off but Riven beats you to it. 

“You haven’t been here! She’s been going through shit and you’ve been so caught up with yourself that you didn’t even notice that you guys haven’t talked for weeks. If anything you should be thankful, I’ve been here!” The situation is escalating much faster than you thought possible. They both radiate feelings overwhelming you. It’s difficult to keep track of which feelings belong to who. 

“He’s right, Sky. Ever since you and Stella got back together, all you’ve seen is her. You cancelled all of our plans and completely cut me out.” You want to cry or hit Sky right in the face and you’re not sure which feeling is your own right now. Instead of doing either of those you get up and run away from the situation entirely. They both call after you but you just need to find a quiet place away from people’s feelings. You run outside and down the field. There’s a tree at the very back that you’ve crawled up more times than you remember. It’s always been your safe spot whenever you needed to get away. You’re hoping that Sky doesn’t remember it and after an hour alone you start to feel safe. But then you feel it - or more precisely him. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s coming right at you.

“Y/N, I’m coming up.” You want to scream at him to go away but suddenly you’ve gone mute. 

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been a dick.” You don’t argue with that statement. He really has been a dick.

“Riven really set me straight after you left. And when he started pointing it out, I realised that I haven’t been myself. I’ve been distant and cold, I’ve taken you for granted,” he says and you feel his regret just as much as you see it on his face. 

“I never meant to do that. I got so caught up in Stella’s web and because of that I hurt the person who means the most to me.” 

“You took away my calm,” you mumble blinded by tears. It sounds so childish saying out loud but he was the one person who could make you feel normal. His energy cancelled out everyone else’s. You look over at him blinking several times before being able to focus on his face. 

“I’m really sorry.” He takes your hands in his and you let him. It’s that heart of yours that’s betraying you. It always beats a little faster when he looks at you. 

“I can’t do this again. I can’t keep losing you over and over again,” you admit dangerously close to just owning up to your feelings. How he takes your breath away just walking towards you, how he makes you smile even at your worst moments, how he makes your palms sweat whenever he’s near. You want to admit it all because you’re so tired of having to hide your own feelings when everyone else can have their feelings heard. 

“You won’t have to. I ended things with Stella before I came out here. When I saw you with Riven,” he pauses to take a deep breath, ”I felt my heart crack. I hated the idea of seeing you with anyone else.” You stop breathing. For once, you use your powers to reach out and feel his fully. You feel like screaming when you notice the very feeling you’ve been consumed by yourself. 

“Did you just-”

“No!” You say it too quickly. He knows what you did but he doesn’t seem to mind it. He smiles as he takes your hand. 

“I know this is really poor timing and I hate how much it took for me to realise that what I feel for you is way beyond how I should feel for a friend. But if there’s even a small part of you that cares for me like that, I’d really like a second chance.” You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because there’s no way you went from being ignored by him to have him confess his feelings for you. It doesn’t change how fast your heart is beating in your chest or the blush creeping onto your cheeks. 

“You just got out of a relationship, Sky.” Even though your heart is all for jumping into his arms and riding off into the sunset, the logical part of your brain can’t help but recall how he was in a relationship up until an hour ago. 

“I’m too late, aren’t I?” 

“I really like you, but I also feel like I don’t know you anymore. I look at you and see the face of my best friend, but I also see a stranger.” You don’t know how to explain it properly but somehow Sky gets it. 

“How about we start out easy? Get to know each other again.” He cups your cheek as he looks into your eyes. He opens his mind to let you know that he truly means everything he’s said. You can feel his feelings yelling to be heard. 

“I’d like that.” 

#winx saga #fate the winx saga #fate winx club #sky x reader #sky blurb #sky imagine #sky gif #danny griffin #sky

[septembersghost]

Jess. I have an unhinged question for you to go with your other lists: Top 13 1D Traxx (for Dean)

you think this is unhinged? you imagine we live in a world where I am not deranged™ enough to have already contemplated this? oh, honey. I have. as with Taylor's and Sondheim's songs, for Dean in my head they obviously detach from the "original" meaning, so you can interpret any of this however you want to interpret it, they're an array of scenarios and moments in his life to me.

1. Ready to Run (the whole song. every line of the song.

There's a lightning in your eyes, I can't deny/Then there's me inside a sinking boat/Running out of time/Without you, I'll never make it out alive/But I know, yes I know, we'll be alright/There's a devil in your smile, it's chasing me/And every time I turn around, it's only gaining speed/There's a moment when you finally realize/There's no way you can change the rolling tide/But I know, yes I know that I'll be fine/This time I'm ready to run/Escape from the city and follow the sun/'Cause I wanna be yours, don't you wanna be mine?/I don't wanna get lost in the dark of the night/This time I'm ready to run/Wherever you are is the place I belong/'Cause I wanna be free, and I wanna be young/I will never look back, now I'm ready to run/There's a future in my life I can't foresee/Unless of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me/There will always be the kind that criticize/But I know, yes I know we'll be alright)

2. Through the Dark - (You tell me that you're hurt and you're in pain/And I can see your head is held in shame/But I just wanna see you smile again/See you smile again/But don't burn out/Even if you scream and shout/It'll come back to you/And I'll be here for you/Oh, I will carry you over/Fire and water for your love/And I will hold you closer/Hope your heart is strong enough/When the night is coming down on you/We will find a way/Through the dark)

3. Walking in the Wind - (okay, so...this song takes on a slightly different context now and makes me cry, but it was also, oddly or not, my #1 comfort song in November. it goes without saying, fuck the finale. this is just about letting them drive into the sunset, and it was actually after Inherit the Earth that its meaning in that sense struck my heart anyway.

A week ago you said to me, "Do you believe I'll never be too far?/If you're lost, just look for me, you'll find me in the region of the summer stars/The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye means we've already won/A necessity for apologies between you and me/Baby, there is none."/We had some good times, didn't we?/We had some good tricks up our sleeve/Goodbyes are bittersweet/But it's not the end, I'll see your face again/You will find me/Yeah, you will find me/In places that we've never been/For reasons we don't understand/Walking in the wind)

4. Long Way Down - (We made a fire, went down in the flames/We sailed an ocean and drowned in the wave/Built a cathedral, but we never prayed/We had it all, yeah/And we walked away/Point of no return and now it's just too late to turn around/I try to forgive you but I struggle, 'cause I don't know how/We built it up so high and now I'm falling/It's a long way down)

5. Don't Forget Where You Belong - (Lights off when they should be on/Even stars in the skies look wrong/Short days, when the nights are long/When I think of the things I've done/Don't matter how far I've gone/I'm always free to run home/Don't forget where you belong)

6. Fireproof - (I think I'm gonna lose my mind/Something deep inside me, I can't give up/I think I'm gonna lose my mind/I roll and I roll 'til I'm out of luck/I'm feeling something deep inside/Hotter than a jet stream burning up/I got a feeling deep inside/It's taking, it's taking all I've got/'Cause nobody knows you, baby, the way I do/And nobody loves you, baby, the way I do/It's been so long, it's been so long, maybe we're fireproof)

7. If I Could Fly - (If I could fly/I'd be coming right back home to you/I think I might give up everything/Just ask me to/Pay attention, I hope that you listen/'Cause I let my guard down/Right now, I'm completely defenseless/For your eyes only, I show you my heart/For when you're lonely and forget who you are/I'm missing half of me when we're apart/Now you know me, for your eyes only/I've got scars/Even though they can't always be seen/And pain gets hard/But now you're here and I don't feel a thing/(chorus repeats)/I can feel your heart inside of mine/I've been going out of my mind/Know that I'm just wasting time, and I/Hope that you don't run from me)

8. Drag Me Down - (we're stretching boundaries here because this is about Dean, but it's not from his POV in my mind. not that any of these have to be, some are more descriptive of him and my emotions around him. <3

I've got fire for a heart, I'm not scared of the dark/You've never seen it look so easy/I got a river for a soul, and baby, you're a boat/Baby, you're my only reason/If I didn't have you, there would be nothing left/The shell of a man who could never be his best/If I didn't have you, I'd never see the sun/You taught me how to be someone, yeah/All my life, you stood by me/When no one else was ever behind me/All these lights, they can't blind me/With your love, nobody can drag me down)

9. You and I - (I know how it goes, I know how it goes from wrong and right/Silence and sound/Did they ever hold each other tight like us?/Did they ever fight like us?/You and I, we don't wanna be like them/We can make it 'til the end/Nothing can come between you and I/Not even the gods above/Can separate the two of us/No, nothing can come between you and I/I figured it out/Saw the mistakes of up and down/Meet in the middle/There's always room for common ground)

10. Infinity - ("everybody wants you, everybody wants you" is obviously about Dean himself, but emotionally a lot of it...feels very Dean.

It's like I'm frozen, but the world still turns/Stuck in motion, and the wheels keep spinning 'round/Moving in reverse with no way out/And now I'm one step closer to being/Two steps far from you/When everybody wants you/Everybody wants you/How many nights does it take to count the stars?/That's the time it would take to fix my heart/Oh, baby, I was there for you/All I ever wanted was the truth/How many nights have you wished someone would stay?/Lie awake only hoping they're okay/I never counted all of mine/If I tried, I know it would feel like infinity)

11. Spaces - (Who's gonna be the first one to start the fight?/Who's gonna be the first one to fall asleep at night?/Who's gonna be the last one to drive away?/Who's gonna be the last one to forget this place?/We keep taking turns, will we ever learn?/Oh, spaces between us keep getting deeper/It's harder to reach ya, even though I've tried/Spaces between us, hold all our secrets/Leaving us speechless and I don't know why/Who's gonna be the first to say goodbye?/Who's gonna be the first one to compromise?/Who's gonna be the first one to set it all on fire?)

12. Strong - (I'd do anything to save it/Why is it so hard to say it?/My heart, your heart, sit tight like bookends/Pages between us written with no end/So many words we're not saying/Don't wanna wait 'til it's gone/You make me strong/I'm sorry if I say, "I need you"/But I don't care, I'm not scared of love)

13. A.M. - (Feels like this could be forever tonight/Break these clocks, forget about time/There could be a World War 3 going on outside/You and me were raised in the same part of town/Got these scars on the same ground/Remember how we used to kick around just wasting time?/Won't you stay 'til the A.M.?/All my favorite conversations/Always made in the A.M./'Cause we don't know what we're saying/We're just swimming 'round in our glasses/And talking out of our asses/Like we're all gonna make it)

unofficial playlist members: shout out to Rock Me, which doesn't fit his story at all, I just like to imagine him enjoying it for the chorus and the double entendre. I want you to hit the pedal, heavy metal, show me you care, I want you to rock me...

Night Changes and Story of My Life also both have lovely driving lyrics, and driving lyrics always make me think of him, even if the song itself doesn't fit, and the latter also has one of my favorite lyrics of theirs generally.

Driving too fast, moon is breaking through her hair/She's heading for something that she won't forget/Having no regrets is all that she really wants/We're only getting older, baby/And I've been thinking about it lately/Does it ever drive you crazy/Just how fast the night changes?

And I'll be gone, gone tonight/The ground beneath my feet is open wide/The way that I've been holding on too tight/With nothing in between/The story of my life/I take her home/I drive all night/To keep her warm/And time is frozen...Written on these walls are the colors that I can't change/Leave my heart open/But it stays right here in its cage/I know that in the morning, now/I'll see us in the light upon the hill/Although I am broken, my heart is untamed still.

#anonymous #letterbox #dean feelings #* #in your car the radio up #one direction #yes i'm sticking it in my 1D tag i have no shame #long post #wait if we have swiftnatural sondheimnatural and fobnatural #what is this #1Dnatural #? #directionatural #?? #1DDEAN #!!!

[heli0s-writes]

summer skin

Summary: A road trip with friends towards new beginnings and endings. Based off this ask (thank you for the inspiration, even though it... is different)! Part 2  Music: Death Cab for Cutie- Summer Skin

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/N: 2.2k words. Soft Bucky. Pining. Yearning. A little angst.

Dewy with sweat. Briny with exertion. Sweet and tangy and whipping through the car, chased by dry wind. Steve in the driver’s seat, Nat riding shotgun. Shades perched on her nose bridge, red pout gloriously bright against the sunset backdrop.

There’s something poetic about a mid-June drive in a rickety car from 1992. Maroon burgundy with the paint peeling off. Dry snakeskin ridged cellophane on rolled down windows, crinkling a static refrain as it flaps violently against the glass pane.

The air conditioning doesn’t work, so you all make do with dry Arizona wind sweeping through. Blessedly, if it pleases, surging down the neckline of your shirts, cooling your backs for only a second. A small ice chest is under your foot, full of popsicles and Gatorades. The trash bag is shoved next to Bucky, overflowing with crushed plastic and stained wood sticks.

“You alright?”

A bead rolls down your brow, gets lost in the damp hair coiled by your ear. Bucky reaches over, taps on your foot and you pull back, letting him dig around in the icebox. He tears open a packet with his teeth. “Here.”

A small smile as you take it from his slack grip. Electric blue like the way he shocks you with his touch.

The sugared ice slides right down your throat and soothes the fever in your fingertips. A clatter of the visor’s mirror slides open and Natasha looks at your reflection before she pushes her glasses up again.

Bucky is already returned to his side, staring out the gaping window, hair rushing over his beautiful face.

-

She did it on purpose.

Worse than the barrage of personal questions to pass time on a long drive.

Worse than the idea of possible bed-sharing—the suggestion that turned you hotter than the solstice itself until you ducked your head behind Steve’s seat.

Natasha purposefully arranged for a stop at dusk.

A little cabin by the lake, overgrown with wildflower and cattails, buzzing alive with nighttime insects and the siren call of gentle waves. Three single beds. Irritatingly odd-numbered.

Natasha suggests a swim before disembarking and how can they say no?

Steve dives in first, stripped down completely to his boxers. He’s been burning up, he says. Can’t stand it anymore. His blonde head looks ash-brown in nightfall, breaking the water with a joyful gasp and then he’s off, streaking through ink with long strokes.

“Come on!” Natasha’s fireside voice rings with invitation as she wades into the deep.

Dragonflies hover over their sopping heads. Under the rising moon she grins dazzlingly. A gesture from her pale hand before it wraps around Steve’s chest and he glides off with her pressed to his back, sharp profiles catching dim refractions.

On the dock, you warily dip your feet, waiting for a little privacy to stoke your confidence.

The night air is sludge and heat. Humid and thick. Sweet like molasses warming in the oven. You want to tumble in, too. Desperate to flood the oppressive weight of perspiration out of your pores, but the luggage is still in the car. There will be no towel to conceal your modesty afterwards. Who knows where the keys are.

A creak of the wood panels alerts you to his arrival. Bucky is quiet when he sits, one knee pulled up to his chest while the other leg slinks down by your side, ankle brushing yours in the water. A pleased sigh rolls through him at the temperature.

There is discomfort. His foot retreats with the shift of your atmosphere. Always too itchy in your own skin. Afraid of being seen, noticed, thought about. He’s good at hearing your silence. Good at reading your language.

Bucky hums a patient tune, leans back on both palms and you watch the moonlight drape his bare chest like a shroud. Glowing the palest of blue as if it’s transmuted from the hue in his very eyes. He slips in before turning back to where you sit.

“Will you swim?”

He glistens like a god come to drown you in the sweetest of dreams. It makes your heart plummet to its death on the heels of his departure when you shake your head.

-

They float lazily around each other while you lie on the dock, contemplating under Orion and Canis Major if the next swath of clouds might be enough cover. Your tummy quivers at the thought, memory from the car ride mounting together with dread.

Next to Natasha, you feel little more than an eyesore. Hair never settling right, body too little or too much in places, complexion dotted with flaws and scars and how could—

“Hey.”

He’s peering up beneath the slits of wood, single cyclops eye finding you through a perfectly sized hole. You turn on your tummy and blink, looking back down. “Hey.”

A blue marble floating in the lake. A glittering star in outer space. He blinks at you from one end of the telescope. You blink back from the other. And then Bucky pokes his finger through the groove and skims your eyelashes with a gentle brush.

A scrunch of your nose and you sit up with a giggle, quieting to listen to the noise of laughter and conversation in the distance. Steve and Natasha are far off. Bucky wades back up to grab the edge and yanks himself out, muscles flexing as he lifts effortlessly. Cool trails drip off his shoulders and plunks on your exposed knee, frayed edges of your shorts catching wet.

He is dewy with moonbeam. Beautiful in his summer skin.

Soft and aglow, squeezing the water from his tresses, he looks over at you.

Your breath rushes out like a current as Bucky turns, reaching in slow-motion, or what feels like it as your blood thumps in your ears. The first button of your sandy linen shirt squeaks through its eyelet. He’s close. Nose nearly touching your cheek, hair centimeters away from your jaw.

The wind gusts by, lifts wet tendrils of his locks onto your newly exposed collar, pulling forth a shudder. Under the night, your goosebumps prickle awake, stinging your chest with apprehension.

“Did it get to you?”

He’s careful with the next one, tugging on the fabric just so, keeping his head still, eyes focused on the task at hand. You can feel his breath on your shoulder and wring your hands nervously in your lap.

“A little.”

“It wasn’t meant to.”

“Yeah.”

The personal thing. The question that clung to you worse than the sticky aftermath of sweat. The settling realization of something unrequited. Have you ever been in love?

And everyone else said, yes.

The slip of your shirt from both shoulders draws your attention back to him, fingers faithfully working on the last clasp. Bucky swallows when he looks up, softness sweeping over his features at your expression. A lopsided smile begins to bloom first on the left side, then the right until it becomes the perfect symmetrical curve you adore.

His fingers brush over your bare collar and down your arm. Not the first time he’s helped you undress. Missions with bullet wounds in your side have seen to that practice more than once. Destroyed all the magic an intimate moment could have had with the ripping sounds of your suit between his panicked hands.

But there is magic, now. Suddenly. Mid-June under a cacophony of sizzling wings. A slow swelling of it like the crest of a wave as it licks your ankle, asking to submerge you entirely.

Bucky places his hand on your chin, a light stroke of his thumb and pointer, and it feels like a firework. Scorching hot, igniting every nerve ending. He doesn’t wait for either protest or approval. Instead, he slides back into the darkness, extending only his hand. The surface glistens like a beacon, slivers bouncing light over his eyes. His left shoulder even brighter.

Have you ever been in love?

You wanted to say yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Of course I have. He’s right next to me and of course I am.

“Will you swim?”

A gulp. Nerves caught like an enormous dry pill stuck in your throat, but both feet dip slowly. The water reaches your calves soon enough, and then you’re moving to the edge, arms shaking not from holding yourself up, but from the fear.

He splashes forward, laughing a little because you’ve still got shorts on. Treading effortlessly, one hand reaches under your thigh, arm bent ninety degrees to sit you into the lake.

Down, down, until the both of you are submerged to your shoulders, limbs keeping bodies afloat with gentle motions. The heat leaks from every single pore, melting right into the waves oscillating from two suspended bodies. He strokes the wet hair from your forehead.

Shyly, with his hand still by your ear, eyes glowing the deepest of blues underneath the night, he whispers, “I would hang the moon for you, you know that?”

And it’s just his way, isn’t it? To smile and wait, look so peaceful while your heart howls for him. To say I love you without ever having to say it at all.

You alright? Will you swim? Did it get to you? Have you ever been in love?

I would hang the moon for you, you know that?

Summer skin and magic. A mess of freckles on your shoulder and back, and Bucky traces them with his eyes and fingers. Steve and Natasha race each other to the shore and scoop clothes into their arm. “First come, first serve on the beds!”

With a holler, they tear away, feet padding over the grass and dirt.

The too much or too little, soft flesh or not, flaws and scars drop into the depths when Bucky splashes you with a sweep of his hand. Returning the favor, the wave you push forward crashes over his head and then the fight ensues. The lake is disturbed with shrieks and sputters—you, ducking under to grab his legs, him, pulling you up to kiss your mouth.

Briny. Wet. Lake water and spit exchanged, Bucky holding you close so that the current between churns balmy with his heat. Then, a parting.

“I don’t want you to sleep on the floor.”

He quiets your worries with his lips once more. A low purr.

“Stay awake with me. Won’t need to fight over it if we don’t sleep.”

A press of his stubble to your neck and then more kisses follow. You don’t quite know what it means, this affection. Transient poetry, at least. Requited love, if only.

The last stop of Arizona is the punctuation mark on your time with the Avengers. Returned to the human world with an ailing father and two younger sisters. Your closest friends fulfilling your parting request: a road trip. A single human artifact to herald the beginning of your civilian life.

Only a few more hours until the car brakes and he’s gone for good. Back into the fray.

Only a few hours until sunrise. You’re counting them along with your heartbeat.

Under the moon, his eyes sparkle like gems.

“Stay awake with me.” Bucky pleads, linking fingers through yours in the darkness. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

His quiet way, his patient way, his careful way. Loving you without loving you. Telling you without telling you. Secret languages finally understood.

-

The axels squeak when Steve pulls into the fast-food drive-thru. Try as you might to stay awake, to watch him a little longer, the rocking lullaby of the car on the road is too much to fight.

Morning broke over the treescape early, shone white and livid into your tired eyes. Steve found the two of you lying on the dock, fingers entwined and in conversation at the end of his morning run. Grinned down his sweat-slick nose and jerked his head in the direction of the car. Bucky tapped on your hand, pulled you up with him, and let you shower first.

The intercom sputters to life—a young boy’s voice greeting mechanically but trying nonetheless to adhere to southern hospitality best he can. Your neck is stiff and aching, but you can’t bring yourself to fully wake. Against his shoulder, Bucky’s shirt rubs your cheek, smelling like the compound’s crisp detergent.

The morning is warming, chasing away the night’s cool salve. The first filmy layer of sweat begins to condense on your brow. Steve orders four breakfast meals but your stomach sours at the thought of grease. A tiny groan as you ponder it, stirring when the car lurches on toward the window.

The arm around your body shifts, fingers stroking your elbow lightly.

“You alright?” Soft. Quiet. A language only for you.

A shake of your head, because you’re not. He smiles into your hair, scrubs his growing beard playfully over your scalp. Bucky leans slowly, keeping you steady against him, reaching beneath his foot where the icebox sits. A crinkle and a tear. He spits the plastic from his teeth.

“Here, sweetheart.”

Another kiss pressed to the top of your head and you don’t know if you should laugh or cry when he places the popsicle against your lips. Like yesterday, it’s blue.

Blue like his summer skin under the moon. Blue like the salt pooling in your eyes. Blue like how you’ll miss him.

-

perm tags: @whothehellisbucky @serpentbaby @badassbaker @alagalaska @cake-writes @crist1216 @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @infinity-saga @jamesbarnesthighs @pinknerdpanda @xoxabs88xox @imsoft-barnes @momc95 @typicalangel @wretchedgoddess @readeity @iwannasail @ya-lyublu-tebya​ @geeksareunique​ @wildefire​ @satanxklaus​ @jhangelface0523​ @wkemeup​ 

#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fanfiction #reader insert #bucky x reader

[turquoise-stones]

Umbrella Pt. 2

Bakugou x fem!reader

Anonymous said:

can i rq for a part 2 for the umbrella fanfic of bakugou? i really love your writings!!

A/N: Sure! Just a little warning though, I wrote Umbrella about 2 years ago (and it was one of my first one-shots ever or maybe my actual first) so my style is a bit different now. I hope it’s not too noticeable (or at least it’s better!) 

You don’t have to read the first one to read this one, but it does give context. Here it is. 

Also, this isn’t a songfic, but listen to the music for maximum feels.

. . .

There was nothing worse than rain in the winter. Unlike the warm rain of the summer or the cleansing rain of autumn, winter rain fell in never-ending icy sheets.

Much like the sudden onslaught of heavy rains, class 1-A was suffering from a change in tone as well. It had only been a couple of weeks since Bakugou Katsuki had been kidnapped from the training grounds, and while he came back unscathed, the fear and paranoia he brought back with him stuck. The thought that villains could invade supposedly “safe” places whenever they wanted, and kidnap even the strongest of students, loomed over everyone’s heads. 

You let out a loud sigh, packing away your gym clothes and preparing to go home. The one good part about the rain was the fact that you were staying later at school and training more. You could watch the sunset too, and empty wet buses are always better than crowded wet buses.

You walked swiftly to the main entrance, thinking of the root of your worries: Bakugou. Even if he acted tough, he was still human, and humans don’t just walk away from a kidnapping completely fine. The changes were subtle but there: he trained harder than before, was a bit jumpier when you caught him by surprise. You had always considered him this impenetrable force of nature, but sometimes you forgot, sometimes everyone forgot, that he was still just a teenager.

Standing under the overhang, you pushed rustled out your umbrella, still wet from use this morning. You clicked open and stepped out into the soaked gray world. Water beat mercilessly down for a split second as you slipped under the curtain of water streaming down the roof, before turning into a lighter drumming. You shivered as wind whipped through your clothing, misting your face in rain. It really was freezing outside. 

You didn’t even know why you were so worried for him. One would think that they would fear their own safety first, but maybe that just wasn’t in your nature. You just cared for him and you couldn’t help it. The two of you weren’t lovers, in fact, you wouldn’t even count yourself among his close friends, yet you just cared for him. 

The closest spark of romance between you two was that time months ago when he had kept you safe from the rain, and while the rain was much more pleasant that day than it was now, your thoughts still traveled back to that moment. Even though nothing came from it, it was still the sweetest display of care that you had seen from him since. At the very least, you never forgot your umbrella again.

You glanced left and right down the long deserted sidewalks to cross the street, but paused when you noticed a bright splotch of red through the blurry rain. It was many streets down, and you could barely make out the small blonde tuft. He was just standing there, still.

Your heart skipped a beat, feeling a little uneasy. Perhaps you were just unused to seeing him calm, but he just looked so sad and lonely, all alone. Despite the biting winds and your desire to get home, you felt compelled to stray from your path and go comfort him. As you veered off the main road, you found yourself clumsily dodging more and more puddles as the sidewalk became less and less smooth. Rain ran downhill from you, kicking up at the fronts of your shoes and flowing in a sheet down. He spotted your brightly colored umbrella bobbling towards him, and he watched with amusement as your rain slicked form tottered into view. 

As you got closer you realized that he was standing in a park, or more like a small patch of grass scarcely large enough to house a swing set. And as you crossed the street to him, you realized that he was actually looking at the far more impressive view of the city below, sparkling with wet golden light. Panting slightly from the uphill climb, you finally reached him.

“Bakugou! What are you doing up here?” You called.

“I could ask you the same, (y/n).”

“What?” You made your way closer, as the drumming of rain on your umbrella seemed to drown out all sound.

“Why’re you here?” He asked, much louder. You flinched at the harsh tone but understood that that was just what Bakugou’s normal voice sounded like. Somehow, he wasn’t nearly as wet as you were, and was remarkably just in a t-shirt and sweats, while you were bundled up in a thick jacket.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay!” You said, reaching a point where the two of you couldn’t get any closer because your umbrellas were bumping.

“Of course I’m okay why wouldn’t I be.” He grumbled.

“Well I didn’t think you were the type to just stare at pretty views, so of course I got worried.”

“I can stare at whatever I damn so please.”

You were about to drop the subject, but you remembered the small changes in his demeanor over the past couple weeks, and decided to press him more.

“You don’t have to act tough around me okay?.”

His lips curled and he stepped away a bit, and you were afraid that you went too far. 

“Who said I’m acting?!”

You gave him a pointed look and he let out an angry huff, looking to the side and biting at his lip.

“C’mon Bakugou… you can talk to me.”

He frowned, before muttering something you couldn’t quite hear. 

“Say that again?” You asked, trying to move closer but the jostling of the umbrellas merely flicked water in your face.

“Nothing. Just… What's said here stays here okay?”

You smiled warmly at him, happy that he was allowing himself to open up. The smile quickly vanished when a brutally cold gust of wind flew by you. Bakugou and his hot quirk didn’t seem to be all too affected. He seemed to think for a moment, parsing through his feelings before forming words.

“I guess… I guess I feel like I need to appreciate this more.” The tips of his ears were starting to turn red. He didn’t understand why in the world he was admitting this to you, but you were the first person to genuinely ask him like that. 

“What’s ‘this’?”

“Like the world and stuff.” He huffed, gesturing vaguely at the wet streets, embarrassed that you were making him explain more. 

“Yes, the world is lovely.” You said patiently, not quite understanding.

“Cause what if they killed me? I mean it’s not like they could have. But what if they did?”

“Then you wouldn’t be able to treasure pretty things anymore.” You finished sadly for him.

“Yeah.”

He turned away from you to look down at the city again, face finally looking a bit more relaxed. You let him collect his thoughts for a moment.

“Were you scared?”

He narrowed his eyes at you and you thought for sure he was going to yell at you for even suggesting it. But his answer surprised you.

“Of course I was fucking scared. I thought they would torture me for information or some shit.”

In the many months that you had known him, you had never heard Bakugou outright admit something like that. 

“Like yeah I attacked them, but that’s only cause I knew that was my only chance. If I didn’t fight they would tie me back up and probably kill me. And… and if fucking Deku didn’t come I would have lost.” He let out a loud groan, obviously upset that he had to be rescued. “Fuck.”

You let out a noise of concern, reaching out to touch his arm.

“It’s… I’m…” He struggled for the word, the frustration building back onto his face. His eyes were starting to get glassy and he was practically shaking in frustration. “I’m weak. Fuck… I’m so damn weak.”

“Bakugou no you’re not.” 

You pulled your umbrella closed and dropped it on the ground with a clack, before stepping forward to give him a big hug. He jolted back in surprise, almost dislodging you. 

“You aren’t weak. All this shows is that you’re not invincible.”

“But-”

“Stop it. One defeat doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. You accessed the situation and fought because that was the best solution. You fought even though you knew you would lose, because you had to. You decided to go down taking as many villains as you could with you, instead of just accepting defeat. And if that’s not heroic… then I don’t know what is.” You murmured, voice softer now that you were close enough.

“Don’t… don’t say that…”

You patted his back soothingly as his arms gripped your back, pulling you closer away from the rain. His unsteady breath ghosted over your ear.

“Why not? I believe it.”

“I don’t… I don’t want your pity.” He choked out, starting to shake. “I-I’m…”

“Shh… shh…” You cooed gently. “Let it all out.”

“I-I don’t…”

You hummed lightly as he squeezed you tight, his shoulders shaking as warm tears fell into your hair. 

“It must be hard… right? Pretending that everything is okay all the time?”

He only sobbed harder, and it pained you to know that he had been holding these fears in for weeks.

“It’s alright… you’re alright. We can stay here as long as you need.”

As you looked over his shoulder at the rain blotched city, you realized that you weren’t cold anymore. All that mattered was you and him, tucked away together in the washed away world.

#bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #mha x reader #mha #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha #fluff #reader insert #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha fanfiction

[staystrange]

heart is yours for the taking

Brooklyn Nine-Nine • Jake Peralta / Amy Santiago Rating: T • ~5.2k words • ao3 cw: slight mentions of drugs but no one uses them in the fic

It was officially the first day of summer. But it wasn’t just the first day of any summer, it was the first day of Jake’s first summer as Amy Santiago’s boyfriend, and Jake was determined to make it count.

-or-

Five times Jake's well-intentioned summer date plans end poorly and one time they don't.

This fic was written for @santiagoswagger as part of the @b99fandomevents summer 2020 fic exchange! I had such a blast writing this fic, and I hope that you enjoy it : )

Prompt: Snapshots of Jake and Amy’s first months as a couple through the summer.

I took this prompt and just ran with it and ended up with this! I've always wanted to write a 5+1 style fic but never had the right idea for one, so this was perfect.

Title from Summer Forever by Megan Nicole - one of my favorite summer bops!

011:58, 11:59, midnight.

It was officially the first day of summer. But it wasn’t just the first day of any summer, it was the first day of Jake’s first summer as Amy Santiago’s boyfriend, and Jake was determined to make it count.

He looked over at Amy, already asleep in the bed next to him. She’d come over to Jake’s apartment earlier that evening after a long day at the nine-nine (she was so busy that she hadn’t been able to get any extra paperwork done, which to her was an absolute disaster), and they’d eaten takeout pierogies for dinner before getting ready for bed early. Amy fell asleep almost immediately after giving Jake a tender kiss goodnight, but Jake was so excited for the date he’d planned for their upcoming Saturday night off that he couldn’t sleep.

Jake’s train of thought slowed in favor of focusing on Amy and how beautiful she looked, even asleep with drool moving steadily down her chin. No matter how many times he and Amy shared a bed, it never quite felt real to Jake, that he’d finally admitted his feelings for her and that she actually liked him back. Heck, Amy had broken rules for him, and he’d tried to follow some for her in return (though the whole “light and breezy” thing didn’t last long, but the effort still counted). But there she was, lying next to him as she had every night so far that week. It took all of Jake’s self control to not reach over and kiss her (he didn’t want to wake her); instead, he lay back down, facing Amy so that she was the last thing he saw before he fell asleep, a soft smile forming on his face as he drifted off.

1

“Ready to go, babe?” Jake asked, leaning his hip against Amy’s desk.

“Hold on, let me just finish signing this paperwork,” Amy muttered in reply, the pen in her hand moving at a snail’s pace along the dotted line on the bottom of the page.

“Ames, we’ve been over this. You need to do something about that speed. Not the drug,” Jake added quickly, “I mean how quickly you write your signature. You get what I mean, right?”

“Yes, Jake, I get what you mean.” Amy capped the pen and stood up. “I just have to turn this in to Captain Holt and then we’re good to go.” Jake followed her across the bullpen to Captain Holt’s office door, almost crashing into her when she turned around just in front of it. “You can’t come in with me, babe, I don’t want you ruining this moment between the Captain and me.”

“You mean ‘the Captain and I,’” Jake replied, a smug smile on his face, his determination to catch Amy in a grammar mistake overpowering his offense at her comment.

“No, but good try though.” She patted him on the shoulder before turning and walking through the door, closing it behind her to stop Jake from following her inside.

“Damn it, I thought I had her,” Jake said to himself, but he couldn’t help but smile proudly as he watched Amy hand her paperwork in, Captain Holt nodding with approval in response.

———

When Amy finally emerged from Captain Holt’s office fifteen minutes later, a pleased smile on her face, Jake reached for her hand, tugging her toward the door. “Come on, babe, our shift has been over for almost an hour already. We’re going to be late for our date.”

“Ooh, you’re taking me on a date tonight?” Amy squeezed Jake’s hand.

Jake grinned. “Yep! I actually managed to keep it a surprise for once.” He called the elevator, the doors opening with a ding a few moments later.

“And what are we doing on this spontaneous date that I didn’t get to prepare for?”

Jake winced internally, refusing to let Amy see the doubt that began to permeate his excitement. “You’ll see! The surprise isn’t over just yet.” He opened the passenger side door for Amy with a slightly comical bow before walking around to the driver’s side and sliding into the seat. He started the car and cranked up the radio to his favorite pop hits station, realizing in that moment he should have probably asked Amy to choose the station instead. At a red light, he turned to her to offer to change the station, but then the newest Carly Rae Jepsen single came on and he was too busy singing along, loud enough to drown out his own nerves.

When they pulled into the drive-in movie theater that had just opened right outside the New York City limits, Amy’s face fell when she saw that the night’s showing was of —

“Die Hard?!” Amy asked, incredulous. “Really? We haven’t even been dating for that long and we’ve already watched this movie way too many times. You pick this movie every single time it’s your turn to plan movie night. Why are we paying money to watch this movie again?”

“Because I thought it would be fun and maybe even a little romantic to watch it at a drive-in movie theater on a warm, clear summer night?” Amy raised her eyebrow, her arms crossing over the seatbelt. “I brought snacks, if that helps at all.”

“I’m listening.”

Jake reached into the backseat and handed Amy a plastic shopping bag filled with snacks: greasy potato chips and gummy bears for Jake, chocolate pretzels and salted popcorn for Amy. “Come on, Amy, you didn’t really think I wouldn’t bring snacks to entertain us, did you?”

“I mean yeah, the snacks help, but we could eat snacks and watch Die Hard at home, Jake. Remember when we talked about budgeting and saving your money?”

“Amy —” Jake was about to reply, but then the stadium lights shut off and the screen lit up with the opening shot of the movie. “We’re already here, I already paid for the tickets, and I already bought the snacks. Just try to enjoy this, okay?”

Amy opened the bag of popcorn, putting a couple pieces in her mouth and chewing contentedly. “Fine. But only because this popcorn is really good.”

2

“You took her to a drive-in showing of Die Hard and called it a romantic date?!”

The second Jake had arrived at the precinct first thing in the morning after his and Amy’s night off, Charles had marched right over to his desk and demanded details. Jake knew better than to deny him, so he told him everything, disagreement and all. Thankfully, Amy had the morning off, and Jake had let her sleep in.

Charles’s response didn’t surprise Jake, and he more than deserved the dig, but he still felt the need to defend himself. “It was romantic! Drive-in movies are totally perfect for early-summer dates, and I brought snacks and everything! And you should have seen the sunset behind the screen!”

“Okay, to be fair, that does sound nice. But still, come on Jakey, this is Amy we’re talking about! You’ve been in love with her for years! And then you get to go out with her, and you take her on a shitty date?”

“Okay, I know it wasn’t great, but I wouldn’t necessarily call it a shitty date,” Jake pointed out.

“Well, whatever, you can do so much better than that, Jake.” Charles’s face lit up with an idea. “I know! You should take her to Bon Appe-tweet, this new restaurant that I just discovered the other night.”

“Bon Appe-tweet?” Jake asked, fighting back the laugh that bubbled up in his chest. “I don’t know, Charles, is this another one of your weird food restaurants?”

“No! Jake, you’ll like it. They only serve bird-based dishes. Chicken, turkey, duck, the works. And it’s pretty fancy, so Amy will swoon, and then you’ll go home and make babies and —”

“Alright, Charles, thank you for the recommendation,” Jake said, cutting him off before he got too far down that rabbit hole. Even though Jake knew from many prior experiences that if it was something Charles recommended, it probably couldn’t be trusted, for some reason he had a good feeling about this one and decided to go with his gut. “I’ll make a reservation for later this week.”

Jake just hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake.

———

It was absolutely a huge mistake.

Everything was totally fine at first, to Jake’s pleasant surprise. He and Amy had decided to reserve an outdoor table since the weather was supposed to be clear and warm, and to their delight, the outdoor patio was surrounded by colorful sweet-smelling flowers. Jake decided to splurge and order a bottle of rosé for them to share, and they sipped the wine slowly as they perused the menu.

“Ooh, this fancy chicken dish that I don’t know how to pronounce sounds really good. What are you thinking, Ames?” Jake asked, looking up from his menu at his girlfriend across from him. Jake had told her to dress up for this date, and she’d chosen a dark blue dress that she knew Jake liked, her hair pinned up in a classy bun. She was stunningly beautiful; there were simply no other words to describe her.

“I think I’m going to get the orange chicken,” Amy replied, closing the menu and setting it down on the table, her hands folding over her napkin in her lap. “I’m still not totally ready to trust a restaurant recommended by Charles, but you can’t really go wrong with orange chicken.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jake said, raising his glass with a laugh.

They ordered their respective dishes when the waiter brought over a basket of bread, and they returned to their drinks, content smiles on their faces.

“This is better than the other night, right?” Jake asked

“Yes, definitely.” Amy took another sip of her rosé, her smile widening.

And then it happened.

The squawking coming from behind the restaurant building caught Jake and Amy off guard, and it was a miracle that neither of them sloshed their drinks onto the table or their clothes. Amy looked horrified, and Jake knew his face reflected a similar look back at her.

“Is there like a farm up the road or something?” Amy asked, her palms pressing into her ears.

“I have no idea!” Jake yelled back to be heard over the squawking.

When it finally stopped, Jake exhaled in relief, but there was something uneasy about the silence that followed. No one else dining out at the restaurant that night seemed to notice or care, though, so Jake chose to just shake it off and focus on Amy, whose initially anxious smile had softened as she drank.

Jake had managed to almost forget it until his and Amy’s food arrived and it hit him that the sounds they’d heard were chickens being murdered for their dinner. The thought made him sick.

“Here you go, sir, madam,” the waiter said, setting their dishes down in front of each of them. “Fresh from our in-house farm. Enjoy!”

“We can’t eat this, Jake!” Amy hissed once the waiter was out of earshot. “They murdered these chickens right in front of us.”

“I mean, they didn’t kill them right in front of us —” Jake stopped when the look on Amy’s face made it clear she was in no mood for joking. “Okay yeah, they might as well have. And normally I would support leaving right now and getting dinner somewhere else, but this food is expensive so if I have to pay for it anyway, we might as well eat it, right?”

Amy opened her mouth to argue, but sighed instead, knowing she couldn’t argue with Jake’s logic. “Fine. But please, promise me you will never trust Charles to plan anything for us ever again.”

“I swear on my original copy of Die Hard that I will never trust Charles Boyle’s food recommendations ever again.” Amy nodded her approval, gulping nervously before cutting into her food, Jake following her lead.

The chicken was actually really good when he didn’t think too hard about where it had come from.

———

“Charles, why didn’t you mention that they kill the chickens in front of you?!” Jake asked the next morning, marching up to Charles’s desk.

“Why wouldn’t they kill them in front of you? If your food isn’t being prepared in front of you at a restaurant, then what is the point of going to a restaurant?”

“Okay, Charles,” Jake said, giving up and turning to the pile of paperwork on his desk.

3

Jake had decided to stop testing his luck with dates for the rest of the week, choosing to plan nights in for him and Amy instead. The next week, though, Jake was feeling brave enough to try again, and this time he sought advice from someone older and wiser.

“Sarge?” Jake approached his desk during an afternoon lull in work. “You’re older and therefore wise and all-knowing. Where should I take Amy on a date this week?”

“You don’t know your girlfriend well enough to know where to take her on a date?!” Terry replied, looking up from his computer.

“No, I do, but I’m worried my ideas aren’t good enough for her. The dates I planned last week were both disasters, and I need a new plan. Where do you take Sharon for date night?”

“Well, we’ve been taking ballroom dancing classes recently and they’ve been pretty fun. They also really add to the romance level of the date, and they’re good exercise too. It’s a win-win-win! Terry loves romance.” Terry puffed up his chest in pride.

“Alright, I get it, you’re the king of dates. How do I sign up, and more importantly, how do I make sure I don’t embarrass myself in front of Amy?”

“I’ll text you the website link in a few, and you won’t embarrass yourself, Jake. It’s a class for beginners. Everyone’s in the same boat. Just let yourself have fun, and Amy will have fun too, okay?”

“If you say so, Sarge,” Jake said. “Thanks. I really appreciate your advice.”

“Anytime, Jake!”

———

“Jake, this is so cheesy,” Amy said a few nights later when they pulled into the parking lot of the dance studio.

“Is it, though? Or is it… romantic?” Jake paused for dramatic effect.

“It’s cheesy,” Amy deadpanned.

“Just trust me, okay? This is going to be fun. We’re going to have fun, I promise.”

“Alright, Jake, whatever you say,” Amy said, following Jake into the building.

After signing in at the front desk, Jake and Amy chose a spot in the back of the room, their eyes wandering around to scope out their classmates. Their instructor walked in a moment later, plugging his phone into the speakers and pressing play on a calming playlist. He led them in a series of stretches, and Jake pretended not to notice the popping sounds his joints made as he followed the instructor’s movements.

What he did notice during a particularly painful stretch, though, was a bag of cocaine peeking out of the pocket of the instructor’s leather jacket that he’d taken off and hung around the back of a chair before the class had begun.

“Ames,” Jake whispered when they’d returned to a standing position. “The teacher guy has cocaine in his jacket pocket.”

“Damn it,” she muttered. “We have to text the squad.”

“Or we could just let this go? For the sake of the date?” Jake asked, hope evident in his voice before he admitted defeat when he saw the look on Amy’s face. “Yeah, no, we have to call this in.” He stepped away from the group during a five minute water break and sent a quick text to Captain Holt.

Just as the instructor began to reorganize the group into lines of partners, the door banged open and Charles and Rosa ran in, Rosa yelling “NYPD, you’re under arrest!” and Charles running up to the guy and handcuffing his hands behind his back.

“What is this about? I didn’t do anything wrong, officers,” he protested.

“Then why do you have a bag of cocaine in your jacket pocket?” Charles asked, holding it up carefully in between two fingers.

“Damn it,” the instructor muttered. “I knew I forgot to do something before I taught this class.”

“Thanks for the tip, Jake!” Rosa said. “Sorry we ruined your date.”

“It’s fine, Rosa,” Jake replied.

Rosa and Charles led him out of the room in handcuffs as the woman working at the front desk ran in to assure everyone that they’d receive a full refund and a discount code for a future class at the studio.

“Why do our jobs have to interfere with our lives so much?” Jake said to himself as he and Amy followed the group out the door.

———

“You arrested the dance instructor?!” Terry asked in shock the next morning. “What the hell, man? I put in a good word for you! You’re going to ruin my reputation over there.”

“You think I wanted to ruin my date, Terry?!” Jake replied, arms flailing. “Now that’s three dates that have been ruined.”

Terry patted Jake’s shoulder gently, or at least what Terry thought was gently. “ There, there. And hey, look on the bright side - at least you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of Amy!”

4

“Alright, Rosa, you and Boyle interrupted my date last night, and I don’t trust Boyle to recommend dates for Amy and me anymore, so where do you think I should take Amy on a date next?”

“I don’t know, Jake, take her to a binder store or something,” Rosa replied calmly as she sharpened her favorite knife at her desk.

“I can’t take her to a binder store, Rosa, you know that she’s going to want to buy like everything and that’s going to get out of control way too quickly. Something else.” Jake crossed his arms, chewing his lip to use up some of his nervous energy.

“Fine, Jake. Take her to one of those paint your own pottery places. Those are always fun.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or making fun of me.”

Rosa paused, glancing up at Jake for a moment before returning her gaze to her knife. “I’m serious. I take myself out to those places all the time. I like painting the little puppy figurines, they’re so cute,” she replied in a deadpan.

“Rosa, oh my God, who are you? How did I never know that about you?”

She shrugged. “You never asked.”

———

Jake had butterflies in his stomach as they walked up to the doors of Color Me Mine, the late summer afternoon sun warming the pavement. He almost was too afraid to look over at Amy, but since his eyes were almost magnetically drawn to her, not looking at her was not an option. When he finally did turn toward her, she was smiling softly, and Jake’s pre-date nerves gradually eased until he was grinning, too.

“I love Color Me Mine!” Amy said. “I used to come here all the time when I was younger.” She reached for the door handle and opened it, the air conditioning cooling them instantly as they walked inside. “We should paint something for each other, babe.”

“Like what? Dog figurines?”

“No!” Amy said, her eyebrows furrowed. “Something practical that we both use at work every day, like…” She paused, eyes wandering around the room in search of the perfect item. “Like a mug!”

Before Jake could protest that hey, maybe he wanted to paint a dog figurine for his desk, Amy had crossed the room and picked up the display mug. “This is perfect, Jake! This was such a good date idea.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Rosa — I mean, thank me, it was all my idea.” Jake tried to cover up his mistake, but Amy’s smirk told him she saw right through it.

She set the mug back down before standing on her tiptoes and giving Jake a kiss on the cheek. “Come on, let’s go pick out our paints.”

“Okay,” Jake said softly, following her to the paint display.

———

Once Jake and Amy chose paints for each other (purple and blue for Jake; orange, yellow, and pink for Amy), they sat down at a small round table in the back of the room. Amy, ever the perfectionist, insisted they paint in silence for a while to ensure that the mug she painted for Jake turned out exactly the way she wanted it to. Jake was touched, and as he worked just as diligently on his mug for Amy, he found that the silence was a comfortable one, and he was content to just be in Amy’s presence.

Jake was just putting the finishing touches on the mug, trying not to let his hand shake too much as he painted Amy’s name on it in thin dark magenta lettering, when the sound of pottery shattering startled him, completely breaking his concentration. When he looked away from a crying child and his profusely apologetic mother, he noticed that not only had he completely ruined the lettering, he’d also bumped into the table, knocking over the water bowl which had spilled all over Amy’s lap.

Jake’s heart sank, knowing he’d managed to ruin yet another date. “I’m so sorry, Ames, I didn’t mean to ruin… all of this,” he said quietly, afraid to look at her face.

“Jake, it’s fine. These jeans are old anyway, and it didn’t really didn’t do that much to your mug,” Amy said, lifting the mug off of the brown paper tablecloth.

“No, it’s not fine. I had one job, and it was to not to screw up yet another date.” He could feel the volume of his voice rising so he took a deep breath, determined not to make the entire room of painters stare at him and Amy. “I’ll go get you some paper towels.”

Amy insisted that they stay to finish up their mugs, and even though she didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night, Jake couldn’t help but blame himself.

5

“Hey, Captain,” Jake began, closing Captain Holt’s office door behind him as he walked in. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Is this about the paperwork that was due on my desk yesterday that you did not finish before leaving to take Amy on another romantic escapade?” Holt asked, folding his hands with his pen still clasped between them.

“Uhhhhh, no?” He smiled sheepishly. “Anyway, since Amy looks up to you more than anyone else and you know her better than anyone else except for me, because, yaknow, we boink, and stuff —” Jake winced at his own awkwardness, but forced himself to continue. “—do you have a good recommendation for somewhere I can take Amy on a date? Preferably something that I can’t possibly screw up somehow.”

“Hm. There’s the new stationery exhibit at the MOMA that she would definitely like. Make sure you budget a lot of time; Kevin and I spent five hours there last week and we still did not manage to see everything.”

“Yikes,” Jake muttered to himself.

“Did you say something, Peralta?” Holt asked.

“Oh, uh, um, why didn’t you and Kevin stay longer?” Jake asked quickly.

“Oh, the security guards kicked us out. Apparently we’d completely missed the announcements and had managed to avoid security for a whole half an hour after the museum closed for the night.”

“Of course you did,” Jake said. “Anyways, thank you so much for your help, sir, I really appreciate it.”

“If you really appreciated it, you would have your paperwork on my desk on time,” Holt replied.

“You know what, fair.”

———

After finishing his overdue paperwork and all of his new paperwork for the day, Jake took Amy to the Museum of Modern Art and led her to the exhibit Captain Holt had told him about. The grin on her face rivaled the brightness of the lights in the building, and Jake was in… well, he had a heck of a lot of mushy feelings about it.

“How did you know I’ve wanted to come here ever since they announced this exhibit a few months ago? I never mentioned it to you,” Amy asked.

“I just know you that well, babe,” Jake replied, only feeling a smidge of guilt for taking credit for Captain Holt’s recommendation.

“Captain Holt told you about it, didn’t he?” Amy said, crossing her arms and turning to Jake.

“Okay, yeah, but still! I know you well enough to ask Captain Holt for recommendations!” Amy’s eyes narrowed, but her smile remained, letting Jake know she was joking. “Come on, let’s look at the fancy paper!”

“Stationery, babe,” Amy corrected.

“Fancy paper!” Amy rolled her eyes as they entered the exhibit.

———

Jake managed to feign enthusiasm for the first hour or so (he even felt it genuinely for a little while because Amy bled excitement as she explained each and every piece of stationery to him), but once he realized how much longer they had to go before finishing the exhibit, he felt his carefully controlled expression start to slip a little bit. He liked Amy a lot, and he wanted to enjoy this for her, but he just couldn’t. Still, he planned on enduring Amy’s long explanations for as long as she wanted to stay, because this date was for her and he was determined not to somehow mess it up.

“You’re bored, aren’t you,” Amy said after a while.

“What? No.”

“You keep staring out into space and saying ‘uh huh’ every three seconds.”

“I was contemplating the beauty of this piece of fancy paper!” Jake insisted, gesturing at the piece that Amy was explaining. Or at least, the one he thought she had been explaining.

“Well, I was talking about this piece,” Amy said, tilting her head toward the one adjacent to the one Jake had been referring to, “so clearly you weren’t listening.”

Jake looked down at the floor, unable to look Amy in the eye. “I’m happy to see that you’re so interested, and I love… listening to you talk for hours on end about whatever you want, I’m just really not that interested in stationery. But really, we can stay as long as you want, I don’t mind. Keep talking to me.”

“No, Jake, I can’t do that to you. You’ve already stuck this out with me long enough. I can just come back another time on my own; you know I have a membership.”

“Ames —”

“Really, Jake, it’s okay,” Amy said, linking her arm with Jake’s. “Let’s go home and watch a movie or something and go to bed early.”

“Okay,” Jake said. “But only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Jake had never felt this much guilt in his life.

+1

“Hey, Jake?” Amy said as she slid under the covers of her bed later that night. “I really appreciate what you’ve been trying to do for me by taking me on all of these sweet dates and making our first summer together extra special. But really, babe, I’m just happy being with you. You don’t have to put so much pressure on yourself.”

“But Ames, I managed to ruin every single one of those dates. You deserve better than five disaster dates in a row,” Jake replied, eyes turning down toward his lap in humiliation.

“Jake, I’m serious. Stop doing this to yourself.” Jake looked up at Amy and they locked eyes in silent communication of mutual adoration for a moment before Amy reached over and took Jake’s hand in hers. “You don’t have to prove that you deserve me or anything. I just want to spend time with you and enjoy our first summer as more than coworkers. Can we do that?”

“Yes, Amy, we can do that.” He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.

“But hypothetically,” he continued, their hands still intertwined, “if I were to take you on another date to really make up for all of the other ones this time, what would you want to do together?”

Amy smiled. “Thank you for asking, Jake. I was thinking we could plan a beach getaway for next weekend. I already have an itinerary all ready to go in this binder.” She reached into the drawer in the bedside table next to her and pulled out a thick binder titled Jake and Amy’s Beach Getaway, handing it to Jake, who opened it carefully.

“Ames, why didn’t you tell me about this?” He flipped through the pages, smiling at Amy’s thoughtfulness. She’d really thought of everything - boardwalk rides and arcade games for Jake, relaxing and reading on the beach for Amy, and massages for the both of them. Jake’s heart was full.

Amy shrugged. “I was waiting for the right time, I guess. I didn’t want to interfere with the dates you’d already planned.”

“We could have done this ages ago! I’ve been asking the squad for date ideas for weeks because everything that I thought of was along the same lines as the Die Hard drive-in idea.” Amy laughed. “I wish you’d mentioned this earlier, but I’m excited for us to make it happen now.”

“Me too, Jake.”

———

Thankfully, Captain Holt granted Jake and Amy’s request to take the next weekend off, and together they drove to the beach house they’d rented for the weekend. They’d made a playlist before they left, and they’d spent the drive singing along terribly to Carly Rae Jepsen and Sara Bareilles and a bunch of random 80s songs that Jake had added.

After what felt like ages but was really just a few hours, Jake and Amy lay next to each other on the beach, enjoying the warm sun and the clear blue sky. It was surprisingly less crowded than Jake expected it would be on a Friday afternoon, but it gave them plenty of space on the beach, so Jake wasn’t complaining. Later, they planned to walk the boardwalk together and waste some money on the fun but endlessly stupid arcade games, and Jake couldn’t wait to win some giant stuffed animals for Amy.

She’d been right, of course. This was the perfect date, the perfect way to celebrate their first summer together as a couple. Jake should have asked her what she was thinking from the very beginning instead of trying to be romantic and plan everything himself. There were many benefits to dating an extreme planner like Amy, and this was definitely one of them.

Jake leaned over and nudged Amy awake from the half-asleep state she’d fallen into, kissing her softly. “Thank you for planning all of this for us. I’m so happy to be here with you.”

Amy smiled, lowering her sunglasses for a moment. “I’m so happy to be here with you, too.” She reached for the water bottle next to her and handed Jake the bottle of orange soda he’d bought at the vending machine earlier. “Here’s to our first summer together.” She gently tapped Jake’s bottle with her own.

Jake returned the gesture. “Here’s to hopefully the first of many.”

They each took a sip.

#original #fanfiction #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #brooklyn nine nine #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #charles boyle #terry jeffords #rosa diaz #captain raymond holt #fluff #canon compliant #early relationship #jake loves amy but is too afraid to say it yet!!! #5+1 things #disaster dates #jake loves carly rae jepsen and die hard

[sue-bts]

How to Destory Jeon Jungkook (chp 2)

Chp One / Chapter Two

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook

Genre: Eventual Smut/ Slow Burn/ Highschool AU

Words: 5,591

Summary: Taehyung usually isn't up to much, but Senior year brings about serges of boredom. So, Jimin devises a plan to mess with High School's baddest boy Jeon Jungkook. And Taehyung has to go along with it.

But a two day field trip could ruin it all.

/ AO3 LINK /

Taehyung made no progress for the next two days of class, Jungkook remained his stoic self, his lips most often pursed, and if not, his front teeth nibbled at his bottom lip. Taehyung would always try to start up a conversation concerning the stupid amount of homework that was due or maybe the weather (if he was desperate). Jungkook would give him the slightest nod of agreement or maybe, if Taehyung was lucky, Jungkook’s head would lull to the side so his eyes brushed over Taehyung’s form. 

Taehyung hated this bullshit. But sometimes Jimin, who was sequestered away in Mr. Kim’s copy room, would peak his head out and get a kick out of watching Taehyung suffer through Jungkook’s attitude. Jimin, being the teacher aid, loved to find excuses to free himself from his copying or grading duties, chatting away with Mr. Kim while darting his eyes at Taehyung, urging him to make more attempt with Jungkook. Jungkook didn’t notice any of this back and forth, he was too busy hiding under his dark bangs, fiddling with his pencil as the muscles of his arms tensed and then relaxed, over and over. 

Taehyung tried to butt into the other’s train of thought with his usual conversation starter, “I haven’t started on the homework…” (he had).

Jungkook let out a puff of breath, “You probably should, it’s pretty long.” He gave Taehyung a side eye, and then went back to staring down at his fingers as they toyed with bits of eraser. 

Taehyung was ticked off, as usual. “I just don’t get most of it.” He tried to make his voice faint, like there was no impact to what he said, playful and hoping to continue the conversation. 

“Maybe you should get a tutor,” Jungkook retorted. Every time Taehyung was able to coax Jungkook into even having a conversation with him in the first place Jungkook found a way to cut it off and end it so abruptly. Taehyung, every time this would happen (which is often), really wanted to flip Jungkook and Jimin off at the same time, storm out of that damned class room, and change into some clothes that didn’t cut off his leg’s circulation. He was really over all of this Jungkook crap. And he was only the first week in. 

Friday (Day 4 of sitting next to Jungkook) 

Jungkook’s jaw looks so punchable right now, Taehyung’s mind wanders, Of course, punching someone usually doesn’t land you in prime friendship zone with them either, Taehyung. 

This type of wandering thought is unusual for Taehyung during a lecture. He supposes it’s just Jungkook’s presence alone that sets him off into thinking like that. Taehyung quite literally has to hide his clenched fist under his desk to let the urge subside and focus back to whatever Mr. Kim is droning on about. 

Somehow, Jungkook has only muttered maybe two things today and it’s already riled Taehyung to his core. It’s something about Jungkook, in his demeanor, the carelessness to everything he says, there’s no gravity to it or urge to even say it. His friends eat it up though. They love how he doesn’t give anyone the satisfaction that he really cares about what he’s saying to them, everything is brief, no one deserves a second thought from him. 

“Are you gonna catch sunset with us tonight?” Hoseok asks Jungkook. Taehyung presumes Hoseok to be Jungkook’s best friend, probably because of how opposite they are of each other. In every word that is nonchalant from Jungkook, every word out of Hoseok is intense. 

“I think,” Jungkook replies. 

“Ah, might as well Jungkookie!” Hoseok gleams, ruffling Jungkook’s hair, “It’s Friday night! We can all chill and then see if anyones hosting anything.” 

Another of Jungkook’s friends chime in, “Pretty sure Yoongi is doing something tonight at his place.”

Taehyung wants to turn his back to the conversation, but his phone in his pocket buzzes. He slides it out and still hides it under his desk, it’s Jimin texting him from across the classroom, peaking out from his copy room with a grin plastered to his soft face.

We have to go to sunset tonight and bump into them! If Yoongi is actually hosting something this could be your shot to go with Jungkook to it !!!

Taehyung wants to roll his eyes but Jimin is watching him. He knows how Jimin gets all prissy when Taehyung rolls his eyes at him. Thought he doesn’t roll his eyes, a frown slowly forming on his features as he texts his response. 

Me and Jungkook aren’t on very good terms right now… as per usual 

Jimin scrunches his nose at Taehyung, Well start making yourself be on good terms ! It will definitely be better tonight once some weed is in both of your systems

Now Taehyung really wants to roll his eyes. He just scrunches his nose back at Jimin and shoves is phone back into his pocket. Hoseok is still chattering away about possible kickbacks or parties later in the night-if Yoongi’s plan falls through-but Jungkook hardly seems to hear any of it. 

Throughout the lecture, Jungkook leans farther and farther back into his chair, his bangs part against his forehead as he scrunches it often while in thought. Taehyung lets his eyes dart to the boy beside him on occasion, infrequent enough that it seems he’s glancing to check the time or scanning the other heads in the class. But really, he’s always trying to take in Jungkook. The way the other’s ears are littered with piercing, silver and thick, the way his atom’s apple bobs as he inhales. He’s a sulky creature, who’s charm relies on his looks and Jungkook is very aware of his appeal. He plays off of it, not having to do anything and people still swoon.

Maybe a punch is too harsh, Taehyung thinks, now I just want to brutally bitch slap the guy.

Jimin’s car is a beast. It rolls out from the student parking lot at a crisp 3:07 pm, somehow weaving its’ frame between traffic until they speed away at a crisp 40 miles per hour. Despite his confining pair of light wash skinny jeans, Taehyung’s body finally feels at ease for the first time this week. Fridays are a gift from god, Taehyung eats them up, much like any other senior who’s really fucking sick of High School. 

“God Jimin, can’t we just end all of this crap? I want to go back to only being stressed out by school, not by random fuckboys,” Taehyung blurts out, a soft smile creeping along his mouth as he looks to his friend. His words are meant to come off as light and carefree, but he waits for Jimin’s response with some seriousness to his demeanor. 

Jimin smirks but doesn’t take his eyes from the road, “Taehyung-ieeee!” He whines, his face always making Taehyung regret doubting his friend. “Please please please, let’s just see how tonight goes and if it’s completely lame and obviously not going anywhere we’ll stop.”

Taehyung supposes that’s fair but he still wants to give Jimin a hard time, “You just want to get high for free.”

“Absolutely not!” Jimin exclaims but he can’t hide the shy smile that emerges. He turns up their music so Taehyung can’t keep presuming these things of him (despite if they’re true or not). Taehyung reaches for the dial and turns it back down. 

“I think Jungkook is uncrackable. I honestly think so. He’s so tough.” 

Jimin shrugs his shoulders and takes a hand off the wheel to pull off Taehyung’s backwards baseball cap. “But you’re doing so well… I mean look at this!” He showcases the hat, shaking it around before throwing it to the dashboard. 

“Well Jungkook’s not too impressed…” 

“He’s not impressed with anything! He’s Jeon Jungkook, he’s seen just about everything, but there’s still hope for us.”

Taehyung gives him the side eye, but keeps up his nonchalant behavior of tapping his fingers along with the beat, so Jimin can’t notice how fed up Taehyung is with all this Jungkook crap. 

“Do you have a special play prepared? Something hidden up your sleeve, Jimin?”

Jimin smiles, his cheeks turning even pinker than usual, “A magician never reveals his secrets, Tae-Tae…”

Taehyung bursts with a loud laugh he tries to hide by slapping his mouth closed with his palm, “Bullshit Jimin, 7th grade you tried to do a magic show and choked on the scarfs in your throat.” 

“Hey… I’ve got a bad gag reflex ok,” Jimin whines with a breathy laugh. “Just trust me this one time and if it all falls through I majorly owe you.” 

“Yeah you do,” Taehyung retorts, however his tone stays humorous and light hearted.

The conversation lulls but Taehyung appreciates not talking on the Jungkook matter for a little while. He’s able to appreciate how his hair is freed from the restraining hat, the wind ruffles it over his eyes and is cool against his forehead. He lets himself lean back in his seat, eyes closing and Jimin once again turns the music louder. It drowns out the sound of road under tires, and the wind that swirls within the car’s interior. He wishes he could ease his nerves a little with the thoughts of possibly getting high tonight, he’s never gotten high before, let alone with people he despises. Senior year is already getting at Taehyung and he’s only a week in. Well, maybe it isn’t Senior year that’s ticking him off, he was quite excited for it during summer, he must just be a week into Jungkook.

Sunset doesn’t come fast enough. It’s still the summer months, the air heavy with heat and the sky bright and relentless. Jimin and Taehyung try to pass the time by playing video games at Jimin’s house, he’s got the bigger monitor and many more game options. Taehyung can’t resist checking the time every few minutes, Jimin batting his hand away from constantly flipping over his phone to look at the screen. He’s just waiting for when they can leave so he can get it over with. 

Jimin doesn’t seem too nervous about it, he always has an heir of confidence to him, he’s too cute to get rejected from anyone’s group of friends. Jimin has managed to intercept just about every clique in their school throughout his last 3 years, Taehyung doesn’t really doesn’t see him like that though, he’s known him for too long to understand why people think Jimin is so cool. He can appreciate the boy’s soft lips and how his eyes always shut when he laughs too hard, but he sees past it and remembers elementary and middle school Jimin too. Behind those supple features is a kid who sucked at playing tag through all of elementary school, always tripping over his own feet and laughing while plastered to the ground. Jimin’s wide smile only reminds him of how the boy would bring food from home for lunch everyday and stuff it down so fast that more often than not he’d end up with chunks of food between his teeth the rest of the day. Just last year Jimin accidentally posted one of his nudes to his Snapchat story and Taehyung was nice enough to tell him (but only after screen-shotting it and drawing a little pepper over Jimin’s genitals). All of that comes to mind when Taehyung looks at his friend, who’s biting his lip as he furiously plays Mario Cart. 

“Look at the screen!” Jimin exclaims, eyes darting over to Taehyung very quickly.

“Hey, I’m the one who’s winning,” Taehyung laughs, his wrists memorizing the map and moving fluidly through the obstacles without much of a second thought. Jimin huffs and keeps overshooting his wrist movements, moving his character to nearly the edge of each cliff, or brushing up against the shrubbery. This just comes naturally to Taehyung, Jimin is only coordinated when he dances. 

This back and forth banter continues for hours, Jimin’s house keeper bringing them snacks and Taehyung’s anxious mind always dreaming up new ways he could embarrass himself in front of Jungkook. Not that it really matters what Jungkook thinks… but anyway. 

No amount of Mario Cart or any other video game Jimin manages to pull from his box of CDs can distract Taehyung enough. 

8:35 pm. It’s time they leave for sunset. Taehyung tries to gulp but his throat is dry and aches. Jimin picks up on Taehyung’s stiff demeanor while they walk out to Jimin’s car.

“Buddy, you’ll be okay.” Jimin has this way about him, he can keep up his silly behavior for much longer than needed, but when Taehyung actually shows he’s scared or sad, Jimin’s caregiving kicks in and he’s immediately soft while he talks. Taehyung appreciates it but it was Jimin’s silly little game that got him into this mess. He tries to suck it up but his eyes still glaze over with noticeable fear. 

“Jungkook isn’t gonna bite,” Jimin smirks. Taehyung seriously doubts that though. 

“Let’s just get this over with as fast as possible.” 

Jimin squeaks with his high pitched laugh, jumping into the air as he now prances towards his car, “That’s the spirit Tae!”

The most popular place for kids from school to meet for sunset is the top of one of the college’s parking structure. Taehyung and Jimin don’t even know what it’s called, it’s simply referred to as “The Parking Structure,” obviously titled by the creative geniuses of their school. But it’s so popular everyone knows which one they’re referring to when it’s brought up. It’s particularly higher than most other parking structures, which makes it the most popular. So many levels high that the horizon is on display, and the city’s lights seem far off, like from another planet. The top of the parking lot is like the teenager’s other dimension, it’s vacant of cars during the weekend nights so they can park anywhere, haphazard patterns, crisscrossing over the allotted parking spaces. The tires don’t worry about the white lines on the concrete, the kids don’t care either, they park close to each other to huddle, or create a large distance from each other across the lot. The ambiance is unmatched, loud with chatter and the bass boosted music from their car’s tinny speakers. 

Taehyung sees Jungkook’s group of friends before he spots Jungkook. His stomach feels twisted and he feels a serge of adrenaline. The setting feels so different to him than when he’s at school with the same people. Seeing them so fluidly conversing and intermingling with each other, the sky slowly darkening behind them, it creates a different fear within Taehyung, one he can’t quite distinguish. 

Then there’s Jungkook. He was hidden away in one of the cars, and slowly emerges from it. His hair is swept up under a baseball cap, exposing his forehead that is at ease while he talks. Much more at ease than he ever is around Taehyung. He’s also talking much more than he ever does during class, in class he’ll speak at only the worst times. He’ll wait to talk until the teacher makes it clear they should be quiet, that is when he’ll turn to his friends for the first time to start chattering away, creating a fuss within the class waiting for him to shut up. Here, now, he talks when supposed to. Because everyones talking freely, laughing over the loud volume of their music that pulses. There are different songs at once, all from the different cars, the noise creates a vibration across the lot, the words and beats indistinguishable, but beautiful in that way. There’s a fluidity to the scene, everyone tries to become louder than the next, some are just quiet and listen to it all. Taehyung is of that category. He is transfixed to watching Jungkook, hardly paying attention to when and where Jimin parks, and that Jimin utters to him to get out from the car.

Before Taehyung can quite process whats going on he’s out of the car, his converse on the warm concrete, his shirt picking up a breeze that presses the fabric against his chest. Jimin feigns shock at seeing the group here, eyeing up the crowd with a burst of laugher and exclaiming the absurdity to this coincidence. As they get closer and closer to the group, Taehyung, as he takes in Jungkook face to face while they stand at opposite sides of the circle, notices a new heir to Jungkook. 

“Jimin!” Hoseok exclaims, immediately grabbing for Jimin and pulling him into a hug. Jungkook watches the exchange, Jimin and Hoseok between him and Taehyung. 

“Do you want some?” Hoseok asks Jimin, smoke wafts out of Hoseok’s mouth with the words, he shows off the joint that sits between his fingers as he takes yet another drag from it.

Jimin’s eyes light up and he throws his head back with a smile, “Yes!” 

Taehyung finally distinguishes what’s new about Jungkook-despite his exposed forehead. Jungkook’s eyes are low and heavy, his face is much less strained than usual, his mouth held in a slight smile. He’s very very high. It shows in how his lashes shade his eyes, they peer out from under the haze and take in Taehyung in a new way. Quiet still, but much more gentle. Taehyung is shy under the gaze, wanting to look away and leave the intense eye contact, Jungkook’s high-ness makes him bold and unaware of the tension. 

“Can Taehyung have some too?” Jimin asks, already puffing out his third cloud of smoke. Hoseok’s eyes hadn’t fully taken in Taehyung until Jimin mentions him, but he quickly recognizes the boy and hands over a second joint to Tae. Taehyung obviously has some apprehension, it’s so new to him and the heat emanating from the joint’s end scares him. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he watches Taehyung’s slow movements, Jungkook’s eyes are red and low lidded but he still manages to exhibit his usual attitude. 

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook mumbles. 

Taehyung’s eyes dart over to Jungkook, who’s words go nearly unnoticed to the rest of his friends. But Taehyung hears them. Taehyung feels a rush of warmth within him he quickly tries to ignore the other, he takes hold of the joint and eyes up Jungkook once again. Jungkook nibbles at his bottom lip, a common habit of his that Taehyung has grown to notice often. Taehyung, without much of a second thought, takes a long and slow drag from the joint, the smoke warm going down his throat, alarming him to the feeling of his soft flesh as it is burned with the sensation. He manages to hold the smoke in for a beat before letting it all out with a rough cough. 

“Nice one,” Hoseok says, patting the younger’s shoulders, “Do you want to hit it again?”

Jimin takes another drag from his and hands it back to Hoseok with a warm grin, already a looseness to his expression and ease to his movement. 

“Well Jimin is definitely done,” Hoseok laughs as he eyes up the other boy, his fingers reaching out for Jimin, but in a new way, more touchy and soft. 

“Might as well,” Taehyung finally responds, presuming that he doesn’t feel any effects yet, despite how delayed his train of thought is. He takes two more drags and on the third is finally feeling it set in. There’s a heaviness to him, his limbs hanging from their joints. He passes the joint to the girl beside him in the circle, and it works its way around until Jungkook finishes it off and grinds it into the soft cement. Taehyung’s mind becomes a daze of thoughts, they glide over him and don’t quite comprehend the speed of the other’s conversations or movements in real time. Jungkook still has his eyes on him, occasionally breaking his stare to drink from his Arizona while chiming into the conversation that Taehyung is too far gone to join.

“Oh I love this song,” Jimin exclaims, turning to Hoseok as they pick up a private side conversation as the rest of the group keeps chattering. 

“Really? None of them like it,” Hoseok motions to the rest of the group. 

“No it’s so good,” Jimin replies, his voice even softer than usual while he’s stoned out of his mind.

Taehyung slowly notices that this is Jimin’s “secret plan,” he’s invading Jungkook’s friend group via flirting with Hoseok. Jimin is smart, Taehyung thinks, I don’t know how to be that kind of smart right now. It’s true, his brain can hardly understand color or noise or movement, let alone what strategy to apply in winning over Jungkook. 

Right now, his strategy is simply being in Jungkook’s atmosphere, it’s not much but it’s much more than he’d do on any normal day. Jungkook is smiling more than usual, he talks with a grin plastered across his face, and it’s so strange to see that smile. It might be the weed that’s coursing through Taehyung’s mind right now, but the sight of Jungkook with such a simple grin is a stifling sight, it makes Taehyung feel warm. 

He pushes down this feeling as fast as it comes about. It’s definitely the weed.

“Hoseok can you please shut this shitty ass music off,” One of the guys in the friend group drawls. 

“Yoongi, you’re really one to talk,” Hoseok responds, laughing. Jimin joins in the laugh, using this exchange as his perfect segue. 

“Hey, we could just leave and listen to it together, I haven’t heard most of their tracks,” Jimin says quietly, so quietly if Taehyung weren’t purposely listening he wouldn’t have picked up on his friend’s hushed tone. Hoseok perks an ear, turning to look at Jimin, his eyes more serious than before, and the corners of mouth turning to a sly smile. 

“Yeah, if you want to I’m down,” he answers, his height towering over Jimin’s, the smaller boy looking up at him with wide eyes and an equally playful expression across his face.

Taehyung is transfixed with their exchange, he doesn’t know how Jimin is always capable of being so sly with his words, so playful and yet so daring. Jimin has this heir to him, tempting his suitors in a way that makes them think it was all their idea, but Jimin is really the brain behind it all. Taehyung has never been like that, everything he says is at face value, he knows it too, because he hasn’t had a single boyfriend throughout High School, while Jimin has had multiple relationships along with countless little hookups here and there. 

Jimin finally breaks his eye contact with Hoseok to turn to Taehyung, who’s gaze is slow, he peers at Jimin as if he’s gazing through multiple layers of color and haze. If someone told Taehyung he was wearing 4 pairs of sunglasses right now he’d honestly believe it. 

“Would it be okay if I go hang out with Hoseok?” Jimin adds a wink to show that his plan is working out very well. Taehyung really has no option to say no, maybe if he really wasn’t comfortable, but he’s under the influence which puts him at a new level of comfort, so he gives his friend a half hearted shrug. 

“Go listen to your shit music,” he says playfully. Jimin gently punches his shoulder with a giggle. 

“Alright, we’re out,” Hoseok says, “Jungkook, everyone else’s cars are full, can you be a homie and drive Taehyung?” 

The way Hoseok phrases it shows he knows Jungkook to be a stubborn boy. He gives Jungkook a look like, come on, you owe me this one, glancing from his friend back to Jimin, who smiles cutely, only tempting Hoseok further. Jungkook sees the mild desperation to Hoseok’s glance, he isn’t a complete idiot, he’s just a very stubborn one. He rolls his eyes but nods, not even looking towards Taehyung to see if he agrees with the whole situation.

Hoseok really thinks he’s pulling a fast one on Jimin, thinking his exchange of eye contact with Jungkook goes unnoticed to Jimin, while Jimin is even slyer, his eyes darting over to Taehyung with an extra heir of superiority. Taehyung is just caught up in the middle of all these mind games and ploys, so completely high that he stands there, hardly emoting, his expression very plain and almost solemn in its neutrality.

“Ok great, thanks, is everyone just going to Yoongi’s later?” Hoseok asks as Jimin gets into the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, my parents are gone tonight,” Yoongi answers. Everyone roars in approval with the excitement of tonight’s promise of copious amounts of alcohol. “Don’t invite anyone else though, we’re keeping it small for this one.” 

“When do we ever keep it small?” Jungkook implores, his voice gravely after not speaking for a while, plus the strain from all the drags of smoke that went down this throat a few minutes before. 

Yoongi mildly smirks, the rest of their friends laughing hysterically and nudging Jungkook in their admiration. 

“Fuck off Jungkook,” Yoongi says but his tone is gentle, “who’re you even gonna manage to invite that you haven’t already had sex with? Huh? It’s not possible.” 

Taehyung gulps, his throat is dry and Yoongi’s words only amplify his own insecurity. Taehyung’s extreme virgin energy feels large and very noticeable, it probably isn’t, but it feels like he’s just screaming virgin virgin virgin amongst this group of very non-virgin people.

Luckily, Jungkook isn’t even looking at Taehyung, he’s caught up in small talk about Yoongi’s kickback and everyone telling stories of Jungkook’s previous endeavors with girls. Taehyung is so transfixed within his internal dialogue he hardly notices when Hoseok and Jimin finally pull out from their parking spot and drive off; there’s a faint yell from Jimin saying “Bye Tae!” as the car skids away and music pulses out from their open windows. Taehyung is left staring straight ahead at his rival, Jungkook, who’s frame is slouched and his eyes wander around to anywhere or anyone else that isn’t Taehyung. Jungkook casually takes off his hat, shaking out his hair which brushes over his lazy gaze and then he sweeps it back under his hat. It’s such a swift and thoughtless action but it has Taehyung’s insides curling around themselves. 

Fuck. If it’s the weed that’s making him feel this way, he really needs to take a large break before getting high again. It’s dangerous to feel these things concerning Jeon Jungkook of all people. 

It’s nearing 9:30, the twilight begins to fade into complete darkness, only the lights of the city illuminating the sky now. The dark casts a shadow over Jungkook’s face, his eyes seem less harsh, less intrusive when they glance over Taehyung, and the darkness puts Taehyung’s mind at ease. There’s less movement and brightness that his mind has to process, he feels diluted and slow and graceful, hidden away in the night.

“I think we should go,” Jungkook says to the rest of his friends, pushing himself off his car where he has been leaning for nearly an hour. 

“Us?” Taehyung asks, his movement swaying like a top finally slowing down from its spinning. 

“Yes, us,” Jungkook answers with a laugh, his high is already starting to ware off, his words once again harsher and of his normal brutal tone. Taehyung fucking despises it, sneering at Jungkook’s response, just the sound of the other’s voice so annoying it starts to sober Taehyung as well. 

“Taehyung are you coming to Yoongi’s?” One of the girls asks, her head resting against Yoongi’s shoulder. 

Before Taehyung can even think of an answer, Jungkook steps forward to the middle of the circle and takes hold of Taehyung’s sleeve. “I”m gonna take him home.”

Taehyung wants to swat Jungkook’s hand off his sleeve, but he’s too lulled to do much but follow Jungkook as the other leads him to his car. This fucking asshole. 

The group might recognize Jungkook’s harshness, if they do they don’t mention it, just nodding slightly awkwardly. 

“Ah, well, next time for sure,” Yoongi says, his voice low but still sweet. Taehyung appreciates it and shoots him a warm glance. 

Jungkook leads Taehyung into his car and Taehyung fumbles into the passenger seat, quickly folding his arms over his chest and looking out the window to ignore Jungkook’s presence to the best of his ability. 

The ride starts out quiet, Jungkook pulling out from the parking lot and slowly driving down the tight turns of the parking structure until they a normal road. 

“Taehyung…” Jungkook starts. 

Taehyung almost scoffs in response but catches himself, still trying to remain civil despite how he plans to drop out of this challenge the next time he talks to Jimin. Even if he’s no longer trying to keep this friendship facade up he supposes it’d be better not to be complete enemies with his seat partner for the rest of the school year. So Taehyung swallows down his pride and just hums a response. 

“If you really want to go to Yoongi’s I can take you,” Jungkook says, his eyes darting over to Taehyung briefly before focusing back on the road ahead. The darkness makes it hard for Taehyung to make out the expression that’s held on Jungkook’s face, the occasional street light helps to light up his features, but so briefly Taehyung’s slow mind can’t quite process it and what it means. 

“You practically uninvited me in front of everyone.” Taehyung’s honesty shocks him, he hadn’t even thought over what he was going to say, it just came out and he instantly regrets it. But Jungkook doesn’t seem mad. 

“I honestly think you’re just too fucked up to go… wasn’t this your first time smoking?”

Taehyung huffs, avoiding the other’s glances towards him. “Well… yeah, but—”

“And we can go if you want, you just don’t seem like the type to want to do that.” 

Taehyung feels a burst of anger within him, jumping up from his reclined position to sit alert and straight. Jungkook wasn’t just trying to protect Taehyung, he was presuming all these things of him… maybe it was all true but it still struck a nerve within Taehyung. 

“I don’t need you to evaluate and decide what I’m up for or not, you don’t know me Jungkook.” 

Jungkook is quiet, but Taehyung sees how his hand squeezes down on the steering wheel extra hard, his muscles straining up his entire arm to his shoulder. His jaw as well clenches and his eyes are eerily trained to the road, purposely not looking to Taehyung in fear of bursting with anger. He stays quiet. 

“Just take me home, I don’t want to go anymore anyway,” Taehyung says coldly. His words are harsh and his low voice makes them only that much more intimidating. Jungkook finally glances over to him, the numerous headlights illuminate his furrowed brow and the silhouette of his nose that scrunches. 

“Fine.” 

The car ride is nearly unbearable, Taehyung wants to launch himself out and walk the rest of the way home. Luckily, Jungkook finally turns on some music that blares over the noise of the car and the city and angry puffs of air that Jungkook lets out. Taehyung still feels the serge of weed within his system, the music and the movement the car transfixing him, it makes it easier for him to ignore the other boy’s presence and also ignore his own anger. Taehyung does his best to not feel sorry for what he said earlier, trying to find an object to focus his attention on until he slips back into a dream-like state, letting his mind be subdued by his high. 

Finally they pull up to Taehyung’s house on the outskirts of the city. It’s quieter on the road, much less oncoming traffic and more room for quiet between them. Taehyung feels a buzz in his pocket from his phone, he hadn’t noticed but his data was off this entire time, his phone just now connecting to his home’s wifi. There are a series of texts that emerge, all from Jimin. 

Holy shit

Tae!

Taehyung respond 

Bro 

Bro 

You won’t believe this 

Taehyung !!!!!!

Ugh stupid ass 

Ok 

I’ll just say it 

I slept with Hoseok !!!!

It was fun 

I think I actually like him 

Hahah omg 

Tae please call me 

this is crazy 

And Hoseok was gooooood too

Bitch!

Please respond (unless you and Jungkook are up to something too ;DD) 

Taehyung manages to pull his eyes away from his phone’s bright screen to look at Jungkook. Jungkook raises a brow, even though he’s irritated he’s still inquisitive. 

“Bruh,” Taehyung manages to say, the word drawling and long, he lets out a light laugh. 

“What?” Jungkook asks. 

“Jimin and Hoseok fucked,” Taehyung answers, not managing to stifle his second laugh. 

There’s a pause from Jungkook before he rolls his eyes and his head falls back to his head rest. 

“Shit.”

“For real.” Taehyung’s mind reels, there’s no way I’m getting out of this challenge now, he thinks, but he can’t fucking say that to Jungkook. 

He leaps out of the boy’s car with a mild nod thanking the other for the ride, and he marches back to his house. Taehyung’s already tapped Jimin’s contact and the phone rings sharply in his ear as he enters his house. He’s too fucking high for this shit.

#taekook #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #bts #bts fic #taekook fic #jungkook fic #taehyung fic #bts high school au #bts au #taekook au #taekook fluff #taekook slow burn #bts slow burn #park jimin #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #min yoongi #bangtan boys #my writing #mine #sue bts

[starks-parker]

Last Summer- part three: home sweet home

A/n: sorry this took so long my life is hectic rn. anyways i think this is the last part- maybe there will be an epilogue? pls enjoy and as always send in any requests or messages you have :) <3

warnings: fluff and big time smut

summary: peter finally works up the courage to ask y/n out. time jump to college and peter and y/n get nostalgic and hang out in y/n’s old room at the tower. Poor Steve sees some things he did not want to see.

--

“Pete” 

“Mmhmm?” He lazily mumbled, still trying to kiss you.

“I think- um - we should uh go to uh the beach now.” You breathed through your words, struggling to talk since he was attacking your neck with kisses, finding your sweet spot. 

He broke away, staring up at you with a guilty look. “Oh yeah, good idea. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry just- I think we got caught up in the moment. Um, let’s get ready.” You didn’t want the first time you admitted your feelings to Peter to be the first time you hooked up with him. What kind of signal would that send? 

Peter nodded and grabbed two sweatshirts, handing one to you. 

“I know you were gonna ask for one anyways.” 

“Thanks,” You said cautiously, noticing that the mood had definitely shifted. You took the hoodie and threw it on, getting ready for the most awkward walk of your life. 

When you and Peter got to the beach, everyone was already there. The sun was setting and the breeze was cold. Normally you would make an excuse to look at Peter, he always looked so beautiful at sunset, but now was not the time. 

“Y/n!” Flash called. “Why the hell is it so cold? I thought we were swimming!” 

“You don’t swim on a beach in San Francisco at 9 pm. It’s never hotter than like 76 degrees here.” You laughed at the sight of all of your friends in swimsuits when it was 60 degrees out. 

“But it’s California!” He whined. 

“Yea, Northern California dumbass.” You snapped back. 

“Whatever, I’m swimming anyways.” MJ shrugged and turned around to walk into the water. 

Brad hesitated at first but followed MJ, scooping her up as he ran full speed into the water. Ned and Betty followed, holding hands and playfully splashing water at each other. Flash took this an excuse to pretend like he was drowning, or dying from hypothermia or something so that Spiderman would come save him. You and Peter giggled while you watched your dumb friends jump into freezing cold water. 

“Guess we can’t follow them, huh?” You joked to Peter. 

“Yeah too bad we didn’t bring suits,” He joked back. 

All of a sudden you two were alone again. It felt like the universe was doing this on purpose, any excuse for you two to be alone and it just happened. An awkward silence fell over you two, normally any silence was never awkward, since you were just so comfortable with each other. But now it was awkward, you hadn’t talked about what happened before yet you both wanted to, it was like unspoken secret you both knew. 

“Y/n?” Peter began to talk but you interrupted him

“Peter? Oh sorry.”

“No you go.” He said with a sweet boyish charm.

“Okay, I just- I really liked what happened earlier. I just stopped it from happening because I don’t want this thing to begin that way.” 

“This thing?” Peter blushed, already knowing what you were talking about

“Oh god- okay um. This isn’t how I wanted it to happen but um- I don’t know, I really like spending time with you. You’re my best friend and you’re really sweet and funny and cute, and I just really like being with you.” You rambled. Everything was coming out- not all of it made total sense but you were like a car with no breaks. “And earlier- kissing you felt so natural and it was all I’ve ever wanted to do for so long.” 

Peter couldn’t hold his smile back. The way you were nervously rambling, the way you opened yourself up to him, pretty much everything about you gave him butterflies. He never wanted to stop looking at you, or holding you, or kissing you. 

Everything Peter wanted to say filled his mind until it all became scrambled and he couldn’t figure out what to say. One thought was looming in his mind, one thought that he couldn’t get out of his head. 

‘Will you go out with me?” He blurted out, probably not the most appropriate reaction to your confession of love. 

You smiled at the awkward boy in front of you. “Of course I will Peter Parker.” You blushed as he leaned down to kiss you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. 

“What’s going on here?” Brad walked up to you two making out. 

You broke away from the kiss smiling up at Peter. “Um, I guess we’re dating now.” 

“You guys weren’t already dating?” Flash asked, following behind Brad. 

“Wait that wasn’t already a thing?” Brad asked, confused.

“About time, Peter has been such a wimp about it.” Ned giggled. 

“Cool, thanks for the support guys.” Peter mumbled.

“Of course we support you! But it kinda feels like this was a long time coming.” Betty said as she held back a chuckle. 

You looked back to Peter, gazing into his loving eyes. 

He smiled back at you, never taking his eyes off of you. He loved that he officially got to call you his. He loved that this confident, caring, sweet, funny, smart and perfect girl was his. 

MJ interrupted your deep, but kind of annoying to your friends, stare. “What are you guys gonna tell Tony?” 

“Shit.” You both muttered, your smiles and blushes turned to frowned looks of worry. 

--

It had been almost 3 months since your summer vacation with your friends. You and Peter were still still dating and you were starting at the same college. Of course you felt bad that you never told your dad that you two were dating, but you were moving away, you didn’t want to hurt his heart anymore than you already have. 

College was everything you ever dreamed it would be. You had to deal with the snotty and entitled Columbia kids, but otherwise it was perfect. You and Peter hung out almost every night, you made some really cool new friends, and the parties were insane. Tonight your dorm mate refused to go stay somewhere else, so you and Peter decided to sneak into the Tower and hang out. 

“My dad won’t be home anyways, don’t worry babe. We’re adults now.” 

“Okay,” He said reluctantly. 

You and Peter fell asleep, watching TV and eating pizza. It felt like high school again, being in your old room, sneaking around the tower, it was nostalgic. Except now you were dating. You were wrapped in each others arms, and no matter how much you loved being as close as you possibly could be to Peter, it was wildly hot in this room. 

You tried to shuffle out of his arms gently so you wouldn’t wake him up. You brushed his arms off of you and sat up on the bed. You were literally drenched with sweat. It was obscure, but the one thing you hated was waking up and being sweaty. That’s why you always kept your windows open at night and never slept in sweatpants. You must have forgotten about all of those things, because here you were about to shower at 2 am. You sat yourself up and wiggled the sweatpants off of you and took off your shirt. All of that commotion woke Peter up, as he groggily rubbed his eyes. He opened his eyes to a very peculiar sight, you were sitting there in your underwear looking back at him. 

“Oh good morning,” He said with an eyebrow cocked.

“Oh shut up,” You said playfully annoyed. “I got sweaty.” 

“Oh really?” He speculated. 

You smirked and rolled your eyes. “Really.” You said crossing your arms, unintentionally pushing your breasts up. 

“You know, now that you say it, I’m getting a little sweaty too.” He chuckled while he took his shirt off. Normally Peter was a shy boy who had the confidence of a loaf of bread, but in times like this he was cocky little shit. And you loved it. 

You giggled while he pulled you under him, your back was now on the bed and Peter was hovering over you, his arms on either side of your shoulders. You looked into each others eyes before he lowered himself down, kissing you. 

“Peter I’m sweaty!” You laughed while pushing him off, but not trying that hard. 

“Yeah me too.” He whispered as he went back to kissing you. 

You loved when Peter took charge, his weight now pressing down on you. He let his hands roam to your ass, giving you a squeeze and you whimpered at the sudden pleasure. You flipped him over so you could get a better look at the boy who you loved. His face was glistening with sweat, his curls were perfectly askew, and his torso was as toned as ever. His hands made their way to your bra, unclasping it and tossing it to the side.

 He kissed your neck and chest as you grinded against his hips, he was getting hard against you. You moved down to his sweatpants as you slid them down, along with his boxers. You took him into your hand, pumping up and down eventually putting your lips against him.

“Baby girl?” He asked out of breath. 

“Mmhm?” You hummed against him. 

“Fuck- I- need to be in you.” He said with an urgency that meant he was close. 

You moved yourself back up to his hips, and slowly slid down. You’d gotten used to how he felt, so the pace picked up pretty quickly. After a few times of you going up and down he flipped you over and slammed into you. He grabbed your hair, slightly tugging it. You groaned at the pleasure mixed with pain as you grabbed the sheets under you, needing something to grab onto. 

“Harder Peter please,” You begged, needing a release. 

“Fuck baby-” He groaned, doing what you asked of him. 

His pace got quicker, and his grasp that moved down to you hips strengthened. He kissed your neck, for sure leaving a few marks. 

“I’m so close princess,” He growled into your ear. 

“Me too-” Your moan was interrupted

“Who the FUCK is FUCKING in here- OH JESUS CHRIST” Steve screamed as he slammed your door closed and ran away from the door. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You panicked as you scrambled to put some clothes on. 

“That did not just happen.” Peter said breathing heavily as he slipped his pants back on. 

You ran out into the hallway to find Natasha laughing her ass off and Steve sitting down with fear in his eyes. 

“I- I can’t breathe- oh my god that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!” Nat wheezed. 

“Nat!” You hissed, embarrassed.

“Young lady,” Steve said standing up. “You and Peter are in big trouble.” 

“For what? We’re adults.” You protested. “How are you gonna punish me if I don’t even live here?” 

Probably should not have said that. 

“I’m telling Tony.” Steve said sternly. 

“NO NO NO NO NO!!!” Peter came into the room running with pure panic in his eyes. “I’m sorry Mr. Steve- Mr. Captain - America Rogers - MR. ROGERS.” Peter finally got it right, completely flustered. “Please sir, if Tony finds out what I was doing with his daughter - I - would never be able to see her again!” 

“And same with me! Come on Steve.” 

He looked at you two with careful thought. “Fine, but you have to tell him that you’re dating- I really hope you are- it’s not good to lie to your parents.” 

“Fine.” You gave up and walked back to your room, Peter following you. 

“Nope, get back here son. You’ll sleep on the couch.” 

Peter looked back at you, but you waved him off. Steve was angry and you were not going to make him even more mad.

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@missingtommy @gkegbula 

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!daughter #peterparker fluff #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman far from home #spiderman #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #peter parker x stark!oc #tony stark #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #avengers

[mintytrifecta]

Someone That I Used To Be chapter 3

Chapter 2: https://mintytrifecta.tumblr.com/post/618490750838177792/someone-that-i-used-to-be-chapter-2 AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22818781/chapters/55853956#workskin Dakota didn’t need glasses. After he became an assassin he got an eye check and had almost perfect vision.  As far as he was concerned his eyesight was 20/20. So why does he have sunglasses? Everyone asks. “Nothing, they’re just a pair of glasses I got a while ago. Nothing special.” Dakota slides his thumb back and forth on the handles of his shades. He sighs. He feels the scratched edges of the old plastic in his fingers.  Innocent plastic, a familiar comfort against his bloodied fingers .A pair of regular old glasses. The lenses have cuts in uncomfortable positions. The handles have snapped off more times than he can count yet Dakota keeps repairing them stubbornly with shaking fingers. He can get a pair in any mall he visits, yet he won’t let this one go. He’s sitting on his and Cavendish’s bed. A heavy silence weighs upon them as Cavendish ponders what Dakota told him.  He fidgets with his glasses. “Kota, You’ve saved me time and time again. Sacrificed yourself countless times for me. What you’ve done in the past, it’s timelines away. You said it yourself, that what you did doesn’t happen anymore. You’re a good person Vinnie. A hero.” Dakota chuckles, a humorless and dry laugh. “That excuses nothing. I know what I did, even if i’m sorry, even if it didn’t happen anymore. There’s really no excuse here, Cav. No matter how many times I say sorry it won’t change. I’m unforgivable.” Cavendish tuts and lifts Dakota’s face to his. Dakota sees warm skies love in them. “I forgive you.” Dakota starts to cry .--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dakota was a strange man, Cavendish thought. From the instant they first met there was something about him that Cavendish couldn’t quite place. As if he’d known him before. Cavendish found himself getting annoyed and confused by him in such a primal, instinctive way and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. Cavendish and Dakota have been working together for years. They know each other better than anyone else. Cavendish is not oblivious. Cavendish keeps his guard up. Cavendish is destined for greatness and knows the obstacles. One such obstacle, is the nagging in the back of his head telling him to run away whenever Dakota is near him. Cavendish wants to scream at Dakota. He wants to know what he’s hiding. Cavendish may be an incompetent agent but he will not be an incompetent friend. Cavendish feels in his feet the need to climb up a mountain. He wants the approval of his superiors. He wants to prove he can be more than what was expected of him all his life. He will create greatness and he knows it. What does Dakota want? Cavendish wonders. Dakota wants to sail in a long peaceful boat ride. He wants to see the beauty of life at every age. Dakota wants to see the smiles on people’s faces. Wants the loving embrace of his partner. He wants to watch the sunset go down on a calm summer evening.Dakota wants tranquility. So when hearing Dakota confess to him what he’s done, Cavendish finds himself unsurprised. Cavendish has seen the lengths Dakota went through to save him. He’s seen how selfless Dakota can be. Dakota is a good person and Cavendish pities him for not seeing it. Cavendish takes Dakota’s glasses from his shaking, crying, guilty hands and sets them aside. Cavendish moves in to hug the shorter man, not caring about how wet his suit will end up. Dakota embraces him and falls asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. Days pass and the two find themselves sitting on the Danville docks. Watching the repetitive lapses of the waves. “Do you know where I got my glasses from?” “Didn’t you say you brought them from your own timeline?” Dakota chuckles and smiles softly, the rose-tinted glasses reflecting the orange of the water as the sun strikes it. “Yeah. I got them from one of my missions. It was supposed to be a regular old mission but to be honest, I think it was one of my most important ones.” Cavendish raises a brow.“Well? Go on then, tell me this supposed ‘important mission’ of yours.” Dakota starts .------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Your next target lives in the south side of Danville. 70 year old Jonah Murphy.” “70 years old? Won’t he just be dead in a few years anyway?”His client shook her head. “Unfortunately not. By all accounts he should not be alive. Strange things happen around this man and we cannot take any more chances. He must be killed. For the safety of my people.” she spoke.

Dakota raised a suspicious brow and shrugged. Job’s a job, he guessed. Dakota left the building and stepped out into the street. Put his hands in his jacket pockets and started walking. Along the cracked streets lined with vines and fallen rubble he tried to envision his plan. Dakota supposed he could go with an easy weapon route, but he’d much rather not get his hands dirty, he had just cleaned his jacket from the last mission. Dakota stepped into a boat waiting near a bridge. The Danville dam broke down forever ago and the city didn’t have the money to fix it (they barely had any money but that’s besides the point) so they turned some streets into canals. Dakota guessed he could go with drowning but that’ll be messy. His body will be easily recognizable considering how few people live in the city and how they all seem to know each other. That option’s out, then. Dakota swerved the boat into south Danville. Let’s see, he lives in 5521 Druid Dr. Really Druid Sail now, Dakota joked in his head. He pulled the paddle to a stop near a small dock and got out of the boat. It’s showtime. He jumped the fence and found an unexpected sight. Broken glass lies on the tall grass, ivy covers the tree and burn marks show no hesitation in announcing their presence. The backyard deck has a suspiciously sized how in one corner, broken concrete in another. Smashed residue of what once could have been a grill lie crumpled under a now-rubble rooftop of the deck. You’d think an old man would know how to take care of his own health, jesus.

At least the back door is still somewhat intact. Dakota walked forward to it, leaves crunch with every step he made. The door’s unlocked and thank heaven for that. Dakota was sure if he tried to pry it open he’d be smashed under rubble.Dakota entered the house and found chaos. A flickering light welcomed him inside the dining area. A pitiful sight lied before him. A singular wooden chair stood on one edge of the table, it’s wood almost rotten and completely destroyed. The kitchen, once blue and white, was dusted and jaded. The sink dripped water repeatedly and the metal around it rusted. Whoever this man was, clearly didn’t care about his wellbeing. Dakota gathered. But why should he care? This man’s his target, it only makes Dakota’s job easier. “It used to be beautiful.” Dakota jumped and whipped his head towards the source of the sound. In the living room, a person sat. “What did you say?” Dakota stepped closer to the man and assessed his appearance. The man had his eyes closed. Bags under it showing proudly. His cheeks sagged with wrinkles and dark spots. Atop his head, light white hair stood up, almost like feathers. His lips dry and cracked, yet still smiling. Dakota swore he could see scars covering the man’s face. His hands sat on top of one another, resting on his knees. Long, thin fingers slowly moved back and forth on his other hand. His arms were covered by long green sleeves hugging his body. His pants were ripped and dirty but the man didn’t seem to care. Dakota inquired.“Who’re you?” The man didn’t open his eyes. “You know who I am, son.” Dakota blinked. This was his target.This was his target? Really? “You were expecting me.” His soft smile expanded. His thin brows curved towards his eyes.“Yes. Yes I did.” “So you know why I’m here. And you’re okay with that?” His Target let out a quiet laugh. Dakota couldn't help but notice the wheeze trying to hide under it.“This was a long time coming. I would not be surprised by this fifty years ago and I am not surprised by it now.”Dakota quirked his head to the side.The Target seemed to sense his confusion. If he did, he didn’t mention it. “Would you like some tea, son?” Dakota was taken aback for a moment before stuttering out a quick “Uh, yeah sure.” The Target took his cane from off the couch and got up. “Sit down, young man. I’ll be right back.” Dakota obliged.He watched the man walk over to his kitchen. A slight limp on his left foot, his back is slightly slouched. The Target seemed unfazed by it. “I thought tea companies shut down fifty years ago? They were taking too many plants from the environment?” The Target reached a top cabinet and pulled out two mugs. “They were. Of course, that won’t stop people from growing their own tea leaves, now would it?” Dakota’s face reddened in embarrassment. “Ah, right.” He watched the Target fill up a tea kettle with water and put it on the stove. The Target stepped outside for a moment. “Excuse me, but will you watch the water while I go get the leaves?” Dakota muttered “Okay”. “Thank you so much, young man.” Dakota stood up to head for the kettle. His eyes never left the Target. He watched as the Target stepped over the rubble and headed towards the back fence. A small flower garden stood beneath a blanket covering them. Hiding produce, clever. Dakota thought. Thieves will steal anything they can no matter what. He watched the Target bend down to the flowers with some struggle. He picked out some green leaves from the edge of one of the rows and stood back up. Just as he did, a branch filled with bird eggs dropped from a tree.The Target noticed this and threw his cane away, with a sprint he caught the branch safely and brought it to the ground. He limped back to his cane and picked it up, leaves still in his hand.The Target entered the house, his drooping eyes bordered on pettiness as he saw Dakota’s gobsmacked expression. “Close your mouth, son. Unless you want to end up eating a fly.”Dakota shook his head and stared at his Target. “How did you do that?! It was like ten feet away from you and you just ran towards it and caught it perfectly! Your leg is injured and you use a cane. What were you thinking running towards it like that?!” The Target let out a wild, loud cackle. His laughs echoing in guffaws and snorts. The wheezing was still there, but the Target didn’t care. “Curious, are you? I’ll answer your questions in due time. For now, just stop the kettle from overflowing more.”Dakota did a double take and turned the stove off, grumbling at the snickers coming from the Target. The two took the cups and Kettle into the living room and set them down on the table. The Target on the couch, Dakota on the floor. Dakota watched as the Target poured the water into the cups, leaves adding a golden colour to the liquid.“Sugar cube?” “Oh, no thank you I’m good.” Dakota spoke uncomfortably.“Why are you being so nice to me? I’m here to kill you.” The Target sipped his tea in small parts before setting it down and answering. “Anyone who enters this house is my guest and guests deserve common courtesy. Your visit just happens to be more er… urgent. But common courtesy is common courtesy no matter what.” Dakota hummed and brought his cup towards his lips. The warmth of the tea reminded him of a fireplace during the cold nights of winter. Dakota smiled. “What’s on your mind there, son?” “Just… thinking of old friends is all.” “Oh?” “Yeah, I grew up with a buncha siblings. I mean, we weren’t related but we were still family, Y’know? We all wandered around the city’s ruins looking for things to eat in trash cans before we met. Me an’ Joey went around all of town finding other boys and girls with no place to go and ended up forming a base in an old abandoned zoo. We all stayed there and helped each other as much as we could. Eventually, an old woman found us and took us in. All of us. I remember she’d sing to us lullabies every night. She was from Italy, I think? So all of her songs were in Italian. Of course that didn’t stop us from learning the words.” Dakota chortles as he continues,“I remember this one year, it was winter. We were all getting ready for Christmas and spent the whole day working for it. Lanna, Eva and Mandy took Mom on an “adventure” around the city, which they claimed had a dragon roaming through it. Billy, Nick and Sam worked on the food, being the ones to actually come from households who knew how to cook. While Joey, Cam and I decorated the house. By the end of the day we were all so exhausted we fell asleep in the living room before we could actually celebrate.  When the girls came back, they basically fainted into our dogpile and slept with us. Mom lit the fireplace near us and slept on her chair.” The Target nodded along to Dakota, his smile becoming wider and wider. “Sounds like you had quite a childhood.” Dakota let out a huff in happiness. “Yeah. I did.” The two sat in silence until Dakota cleared his throat. “So what about you? I mean, what’s with all the mystery around you? You’re practically the only person who lives on this street, you know that right?”The Target’s smile faltered for a brief second, barely seen.“Come on a walk with me.” He ordered.The Target stood up and started walking towards the front door. Dakota sat on the floor for a few seconds before processing what was happening and scrambled up to the Target.“Woah woah wait where are we going? You can’t just leave like that.”The Target stood outside of the door, looking at Dakota from the outside. “I just did.” The door slammed closed. Dakota laughed and ran towards the door. This Target is ridiculous! He opened the door and skittered across the pavement, almost falling into the water. The Target was already walking.“Hey, hold on a second. Wait up!” The Target yelled back, “If I can walk faster than you at this age then there’s no chance you’ll get to kill me!” Dakota rolled his eyes and sprinted to the Target. As he caught up the Target side eyed him and snarked.“Ah, so you can catch up. Good to know I’m as fit as a spring chicken.” Dakota lightly smacked the Target’s shoulders and kept walking with him. “You do realize that we’re not in your house anymore, right? Means I’m no longer a guest and can kill you anytime now.” “Oh yes I know. I just thought we’d want a change of scenery. After all, I still didn’t answer your question did I?” Dakota raised his finger to retort before putting it down. “No. No you didn’t.” “And you want to know don’t you?” “Yes. Yes I do.” “Guess you’ll have to wait with the killing, then!” The Target beamed. Dakota huffed in annoyance and stuffed his hands in his jacket. The two walked in a comfortable silence. At least, until a metal beam almost impaled Dakota. The Target grabbed Dakota’s shoulders and pushed him away as the beam struck the ground where Dakota was standing. The Target barely flinched. Dakota stood there breathing heavily.“Okay what the fuck! That’s the second time you’ve done that. What are you, a bad luck magnet?” The Target signalled for Dakota to keep walking. “You could say that.” “I hope you realize that doesn’t answer my questions.” “I’m aware.” “Of course you are” After the fifth or sixth time something weird happened around them, Dakota started getting fed up with the nonsense. How and why does this not faze Target? He didn’t say anything, but kept a close eye to everything around them.The two came to a stop in front of an alley. Dakota looked confused. The Target looked delighted.“So our stop for the rest of the conversation is… an alleyway?” “Quit your complaining we’re not there yet.” Dakota was soon to figure out, their destination was a hidden part of the Danville docks. “The docks extend into the lake here. Not many people know that.” Dakota looked around in amusement. “Neat place. Lotsa green.” The Target gave a chuckle. “Yes, lots of green.” They walked towards the edge of the dock and sat down, the waves licked the sand with soft calming caresses. “Murphy’s Law.” Dakota looked at the Target. “I’m sorry, what?” “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. That’s Murphy’s Law. Throughout generations my family has been dealing with Murphy’s Law to its fullest extent. Extreme Hereditary Murphy’s Law, it’s known as.”The Target sighs. “That’s why I live alone. Why my house looks the way it does. It belonged to my family for generations. I thought it would stand much longer than it did.”Dakota nods. “You can’t control it?” The Target shakes his head, “No, sonny. No.” “We’ve tried to control it before but it never worked. We Murphys always believed that the only thing you can control it with is a positive attitude and good attention. ”His smile drops into a frown. “But positive attitude can’t fix blindness.” The Target twists his ring around on his finger. “Your wife?” Dakota hesitated. “She was… wonderful. Put up with anything Murphy’s Law threw at her. No matter how intense it was she promised to stay by my side. That is, until a broken ultraviolet light flashed in her eyes. She went almost completely blind. Watching her struggle the way she did.. You can’t understand how painful that was. She died months afterwards. Car crash.” “I’m.. so sorry.” “Absolutely nothing to be sorry for. We had good times and that’s all that matters.”Jonah spilled a tear. “And that’s all that matters.” Dakota gazed at the ocean.“What if… what if I never find that?” Jonah raised a brow.“Find what exactly?” “What you had.” Jonah took a deep breath and answered.“It’s always out there. You might have seen in already, you might have not. The good moments never stray too far to those willing to look for them. Seek out happiness and it will find you.” Dakota felt a nudge on his shoulder. “Somewhere out there, you’ll find your happiness.”Jonah held out a pair of orange glasses. Their lenses were tinted rose-gold. The outer part is covered in plastic gold and a small red line. “She would put on the most ridiculous pair of glasses she could find whenever we met with friends. She kept saying she doesn’t want pity, she wants laughter. On our wedding anniversary, she gave me these.” “You’re giving it to me? Why?” “Dakota, I have barely another day left on Earth. I’m sure she’d want me to give them to someone else before I passed. This is a symbol of happiness for me. I want it to be one for you too.” Dakota took the glasses from Jonah and hesitantly put them on. He looked at Jonah for approval. Wrinkled dry lips spread into a smile, old, baggy eyes watered. “They fit you perfectly.” The two sat on the docks watching the sun go down, Jonah leaned on Dakota and with one last breath, Jonah said,“ You’re a good man.”

#milo murphy's law #mml #mml dakota #Assassin!Dakota au #OC #This chapter was the best to write I had so much fun creating Jonah

[fan-dumb-trash]

For your consideration: Remile Friends-to-Lovers featuring highschool theater shenanigans and self growth

Part Two Sis Part Three Part Four

Remy and Emile are friends, best friends in fact, but fate has a couple tricks up her sleeve to tear them apart, only to bring them back again. 

This got longer than expected but theres more to the story after this oh yes indeed so buckle up cause part two is gonna be typed tomorrow when it isnt one in the morning so HERE YA GO @happiness-is-regret

Warnings: Divorce, parents fighting, mild panic attack, self depreciation, if there's more let me know!

So its seventh grade aka awkward central because puberty and acne and awkwardness and it's just awful all around and theres lil Remy who is NOT confident at all by anyone's standards

His parents argue a lot and he learned staying quiet is the best way not to get involved or yelled at in the crossfire so yeah

And then you got Emilie who kinda knows what's goin on but not really. He wears tie dye shirts and aviator glasses sometimes until he had to get actual frames over the summer but it was no big cause he was used to glasses anyways

But Emilie is wiser than the other kids and thinks cliques are stupid and he just loves cartoons and english okay stop teasing him for being a lil bit awkward okay STOp

But yeah he doesn't get friends easy and he tries to squirm in other friend groups but it doesn't feel right. Until Remy. Who is incredibly shy believe it or not! They have no classes together but somehow Remy mustered the courage to compliment Emilies pink hair and BOOM FRIENDSHIP

They eat lunch together. Some days it's in comfortable silence and other times its complaining about teachers or PE miles or this brat kid who vandalized a bathroom stall

And Remy starts warming up and realizing maybe the whole world isn't against him. Just because his home is a literal war zone doesn't mean being friends with Emile is doomed.

At the end of seventh grade the duos lunchtime friendship is going great! Emile is starting to get into cartoons and their convos are “OMG OKAY SO VOLTRON SEASON 2 IS OUT AND IM SCARED REMY I WANT TO CRY FOR MY SPACE CHILDREN ZARKON CAN YEET HIMSELF OFF A CLIFF AND-” “Woah their Em, slow it down sis”

As Remy gets more comfortable there is more teasing and nicknames and laughing but they dont hug and Emile isn't super affectionate but hugs are a thing for friends right???

One day on a weekend it's pretty bad for Remy at home. His parents are yelling and its loud and his breathings picking up and his eyes are shut and he's crying because is it his fault??? Why can't they stop stop stop STOP!

And he has to get out because he cant take it hearing they two people who he loves most fight with each other when they are supposed to love each other and his little brother Janus is sleeping thank god but he needs OUT right fucking now

So he hops out his window and runs. Two houses down and around the corner there's an open field that should probably have a house or a park but low income neighborhoods be like that sometimes ya know?

He runs in the field but then there's trees and a little path but wheres the end and the sun is setting now so he sits and looks at the sky and cries

Emile likes his peace and quiet. Hes and only child but his house gets cluttered with his parents (DOT AND LARRY FITE ME) and their thespian friends on the weekends especially around showtime and tec week so he walks in the field.

So when he comes across Remy he screeches and cusses and they're both apologizing and it's a mess but wait was Remy crying?!?!

So Emile is concerned and sits him back down and they talk. Remy says his parents are probably going to get a divorce and how they've been fighting and all that and Emile starts to understand why he's so sheltered

Remy's crying again so Emile asks “Hey, You can say no but can i hug you?” And Remy nods so they hug and they melt right into itm and they stay there for a while and watch the sunset.

From then on they are attached to the hip. Nothing can separate them. Emile invites Remy over for dinner and out to see his parents shows at the community theater and its fun! Remy kinda gets to be a kid and he has sas now! He sees its okay to be a bit absurd with Larry and how jokes are fine with Dot.

The boys are in the field again after dinner and Emile is talking about Dot and Larry, and Remy cant help but be envious. They're all so happy and perfect and he’ll never get that. He goes home and the glitter fades and he sleeps with music to drown out the shouting but its still there.

Remy says “I wish my parents were like yours. I wish I had that. It's not fucking fair Em”

Emile says “I wish I knew how to help… but I can't. All I can do is offer you a slice of normal and hope you aren't allergic” To which they both laugh. But the insecurity sticks. Remy wonders if he's just going to mess things up later or if him and Emile stop being friends what will happen

And it haunts him. Its summer and his parents get a divorce, but the yelling in person is replaced with battles in court and over text. He has to go to mediation a couple times and Emile is there the next day with icecream and steven universe

Emile starts to notice things. The way Remy's eyes are filled with fire as he banters with Larry or when he rants about things he's passionate about. The way he runs so fast in field like nothing can catch him not even the wind itself. The way his whole face glows when he laughs or how when it's silent with them and the sky, he closes his eyes and hums a song he doesn't know.

And he realizes he's in love and he's so scared because Remy doesn't need romance he needs stability. His world is crumbling and he needs his best friend. And Emilie hides it and surprises himself. Remy doesn't notice the way Emiles hugs last longer or the way he sighs as he walks away. He doesn't notice the stars. His mind is on other things. Remy doesn't have time to feel the same or explore feelings so he doesn't.

Eighth grade things go as normal. Emile is still hopelessly in love. Some nights he cries and some nights he thinks his feelings are finally gone. Some nights Remy sleeps over and they sneak into his moms room and but on stage makeup.

Emile almost kissed him when Remy made him a Jake and Finn card for his birthday. And it was hella cute and cheesy and had “love u babe” on the inside and “happy birthday, bitch” on it and it was classic.

But yeah he totally wasn't disappointed it wasn't Bubbline on the card what???

But then things just… stopped.

Remy stopped going to the field on weekends. He was busy when Emilie wanted to hang out. Em was worried at first that something was wrong at home and that he was lying until he saw Remy around at school with other kids. He was growing his hair out and had a leather jacket and when Emile said hi Remy smiled tight, nodded, and continued to talk to his new friends.

Then he noticed how they were the kids who liked sports or girls or always laughed loud in the cafeteria. He noticed how Remy's sass grew into straight up ego and how his confidence wasn't just with Emile it was with EVERYONE

People waved to him as he walked by. Everyone was “babe” “hun” “sweetie” and “sister” and Emilie felt less special.

And not Eighth Grade was nearly over and Emilie had lost his best friend to the rest of the world. Yes he was happy that Remy was confident and Yes he was happy he made new friends.

But back when Remy needed him, back when they dazzling smile was meant for him, back when the problems were so big you needed two people not just yourself- Emilie could hang on to Remy

But now that Remy didn't need him, he was left for trash. Emilie was heartbroken. He swore to himself he wouldn't let another boy break his heart to the point where cartoons couldn't even cheer him up. He cried when Ruby and Sapphire got married and when Bubbline kicked ass and he prayed for the day when he would have that.

Summer was torture and he never saw Remy in the field. Little did he know Remy was there, just in the trees or wandering at nights when his mom came home yelling and cussing. Emile thought the pain of the divorce was over when Remy was going to court once every 6 months and to family counseling weekly but did it help? No.

Highschool came and Remy climbed to social ladder. He hid the bags under his eyes with sunglasses and kept his pep and sass with starbucks coffee. Combat boots to make him taller.

And Emilie was still alone until Patton came along with Roman. They sat together and then Logan and Virgil joined. Sloane and Corbin who are juniors swung on by. Kai and Elliot would join them the next year and together they became the theatre troupe.

Emilie felt whole with this diverse group of many passions and interests and he couldn't help but smile more. He didn't feel so alone. But part of him still longed for that old friendship he has lost- but there was enough going on to forget it.

Emilie didn't notice Remy staring at him with his fiery eyes when his own friend group were so loud they didn't pay him mind. Remy started to see how the tie die pink haired boy grew up and moved his children with dignity and didn't take their tomfoolery. He saw how he would catch conflicts and mediate them. He saw his goofiness shine through all his actions. And he started to care for this new Emile, but also remember when it was just the two of them. New thoughts lead Remy to think it was him holding Emile back from this all along.

He began to think Emilie was better off without him dragging him down with his million problems. So he too began to embrace to noise and forget.

Next it was Sophomore year when the universe threw them back at each other...

#remy sanders #emilie picani #cartoon therapy #thomas sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts remy #sleep sanders #ts shorts #ts patton #patton sanders #remyxemile #sander sides #sander sides fic #cartoon therapy fic #remile bullet point fic #My writing #ray writes

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

rewatching s1 of got RANT BY ME

i highly do not recommend you rewatching season 1 of game of thrones after season 8... for you shall drown in your own bitter tears.

it was so good, guys. SO. GOOD. i truly forgot about it. episode 9 when ned dies is a fucking masterpiece, maisie williams’ acting is HEARTBREAKING, seeing robb in all his glory is HEARTBREAKING, lena headley playing cersei with a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT VOICE (really, check it out) is PHENOMENAL. btw cersei and robert and their relationship is a stuff of dreams for any writer. it’s so hateful and twisted, the way they tore each other apart. and you feel for cersei, you really do. when she tells ned about her wedding, when she tells cat about her stillborn son - damn, there is so much love lost there,  i was dying to see it on-screen. 

but what is most mind-blowing is how different everyone feels and how your perspective of characters changes. you think jon was always high as honor and oh so perfect and humble? WRONG. he came to castle black as a privileged little shite who though he is better than all the other recruits just because of all the opportunities he had as a stark bastard growing up in winterfell. he was nice and likable, that’s true, but he certainly wasn’t without faults. the whole ‘’love is a death of duty’’ speech of aemon’s was actually regarding ROBB, as jon was contemplating running away from the watch (for the 2nd time in the span of 2-3 episodes, mind you) in order to help robb in the war. as he ultimately put duty above love in this case and stayed, and robb then died...  then put duty over love again and ygritte died.... well, idk him doing this for the 3rd time with dany was shown with a proportionate amount of emotional anguish on his part, just sayin’.

tyrion? DON’T GET ME STARTED WITH TYRION. tyrion is an interesting character cause i think that no matter how hard his life in casterly rock was, we tend to forget that he was, again, PRIVILEGED AS FUCK. s1 tyrion was green as grass, oh my good. he just had no idea about any-fucking-thing. he had tantrums and would brood and pout like a child. claimed to be of great intelligence and yet he was more cunning than anything else, really. great basis for development which i guess, i completely overlooked somehow. tyrion was never in my head a character that went through some spectacular change throughout the show and yet now, after watching him so innocent and naive in s1, I have to admit he’s hardly recognizable. funny to think he came back to being a sweet summer child in s8 and lost all the wisdom he gained from various life tribulations.

dany... this one might be the most painful. dany is all but a baby in s1. even after she gains SOME position due in her marriage, all her belief in herself is grounded in just that- her marriage, her position is a khaleesi. that’s why she allows mirri maz dur to take all she holds dear; because she is terrified of the perspective of being nothing again. i don’t think people really remember how horrifying viserys was and how hard dany’s life was before dragons. we have no literal confirmation of that, but i am absolutely sure her brother abused her both sexually and mentally. when she is attacked by the assassin, she doesn’t even look that surprised, just weary that robert keeps on sending them. after she gained drogo’s love and, with that, a little respect, she just used her title of khaleesi left and right, with no understanding what this role really means and no true authority. she was all bite as long as she knows drogo will back her up. damn,really, no wonder she was so desperate to save him. also, no wonder she is so okay with killing people that defy her authority. people keep on forgetting that she learned leadership from a damn dothraki khal. she watched her husband execute people for really REALLY small things. her attitude towards tarlys for example makes PERFECT SENSE when we look at it from this context (but why not, we can just make her mad for no fucking reason). but what’s interesting is that dany has hated the idea of slavery and rape and harm of innocents since her very beginnings. that was one of her most interesting traits in s1, this love and gentleness she had for women and children, for slaves. but yeah, let’s have her burn fucking king’s landing, oh my god, i’m still not over it, now more than ever. 

aaaaaand all those little details in s1 forsaken later, DAMN. bronn and tyrion were buddies even back then, but sure, let’s have bronn side with cersei in s8 bc why not. as much as everyone says that ned’s honor got him killed, he died without honor actually, betraying everything that he stood for. what a hell sansa went through in king’s landing, how strangely close and intimate her relationship with cersei was and how we didn’t get their final confrontation, bc why should we. petyr was fucking smart. varys was fucking smart. arya was a fucking normal human person with human emotions and negative traits also, and not a fan-fav super-assassin with plot armor as thick as the wall. when she was saying that she doesn’t want to be a lady, she just meant that she didn’t want to play the traditional role of a lady which would include feminine skills she highly disliked as sewing, wearing dresses and bearing her lord husband dresses. interestingly enough, she wanted to be A LORD, so she wanted to rule the land, manage her bannerman and take care of prosperity of those under her protection. but nah, let’s send her on a suicide quest towards the sunset, shall we? 

i’m sorry, i know this is messy and doesn’t really bring anything new to the discussion. but i needed to let it out somehow. god, s1 of game of thrones was really something truly magnificent. 

#got #game of thrones #got rant #duh

[splendidlyimperfect]

Gray hasn’t seen Natsu in years - not since he moved away with his boyfriend Joel and Natsu stopped texting him. A chance run-in at a bar brings Natsu back into Gray’s life, but the encounter puts Gray in danger when Joel finds out. Natsu quickly realizes that Gray's stuck in a cycle of violence, and wants to help him escape. But leaving isn't that easy, and sometimes loving someone might not be enough.

Chapter Summary: Sixteen-year-old Ellie knows that he's really a boy, and he's ready to come out to his best friends.

Chapters (4/21):  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Gray Fullbuster/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Natsu just wants to help, but Gray feels like he can't leave, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftlgbtpride2019

-----

your secret is safe, i won’t say a word

trust \ ˈtrəst noun : one in which confidence is placed

.

i august eight years ago

.

Summer in Magnolia is unbearably hot. The sun is relentless, beating down through the window of Natsu’s dad’s shitty car. There’s no AC, so Ellie has the window rolled down, but the hot, dry air isn’t doing much to mitigate the heat.  

“This car is a piece of shit,” Erza comments from the back seat. Her feet are up on the console between Natsu and Ellie, and she’s holding a chilled can of pop against her cheek.  

Natsu snorts, looking at her in the rearview mirror. “At least I have a car,” he says, tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of whatever song is playing.

“Yeah, a car that’s so ancient it still has a tape deck,” Ellie teases, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. Stray pieces of hair stick to her face, curling in the heat, and the back of her neck itches. She can’t wait to cut it all off.  

Natsu nudges Erza’s feet aside and grabs his can of coke, tipping his head back as he takes a long drink. Ellie tries not to stare at the curve of Natsu’s jaw or the pink of his tongue as he licks his lips. His hair is wild and his skin is tanned, and there’s a light dusting of freckles up his arms and across his cheeks.  

Ellie wants to touch them, wants to trace patterns between each freckle and kiss Natsu’s lips. She thinks about him a lot more than she should, even though it’s hopeless. They’ve been friends for years and it would be weird. Plus, Ellie is pretty sure Natsu is only into boys, and even though Ellie is—

“Yo, Earth to El?” Natsu waves his hand in front of Ellie’s face and she blinks a few times, shaking her head. “You alive in there?”  

“Yeah, sorry,” Ellie says, batting his hand away. “It’s just too fucking hot.”  

Continue reading on AO3

She would have been cooler in the dress she’d worn to church this morning – the red one with the white flowers that her mom likes. But dresses don’t feel right, and as soon as they’d left town, she’d swapped it out for cutoff jeans and an old t-shirt of Natsu’s that he’d left at her house at a sleepover last summer. It doesn’t smell like him anymore, but it’s still Ellie’s favorite shirt.

“It’s awesome,” Natsu protests. He’s always loved the heat, which Ellie doesn’t really mind because it means she gets to see him shirtless a lot. “You guys gonna come swimming? Laxus said the lake’s okay this year.”  

“Maybe,” Ellie says, thinking of the bikini shoved in the bottom of her bag in the trunk and making a face. “You gonna try to drown me again?”  

Natsu snorts. “Don’t act like you didn’t start that,” he says, turning to look at Ellie over the rim of his sunglasses. “You can’t pretend you’re innocent.”  

“I can try,” Ellie replies, sticking her tongue out at Natsu. “Besides, it was Erza’s idea.”  

Erza laughs, reaching forward and tugging at Ellie’s ponytail, but she doesn’t deny the accusation. Ellie grumbles, grabbing one of Erza’s feet and raising her eyebrow with the threat of tickling.  

“Don’t you dare,” Erza says, giving Ellie a half-hearted glare. Natsu tucks his coke back into the console and then leans over, using Erza’s legs as an armrest as he keeps his eyes on the dusty road.  

Ellie sighs happily, looking out the window again and letting the hot air wash over her. The tape deck changes to their favorite song and Natsu cranks it up, tapping out the beat on Erza’s calf as they all begin to sing along.  

i can tell you my love for you will still be strong after the boys of summer are gone  

-----

It seems like everyone from school is at the lake. Laxus is pretty popular and Magnolia’s not a very big town, so the beach is packed. Everyone’s drinking, and a bonfire is roaring even though the sun hasn’t quite set yet. Somebody’s started a volleyball game in the sand nearby, and the sound of their shouting mixes with the waves lapping up against the shore.  

“What’s up, El?”  

Ellie looks up from where she’s sitting in the sand with her feet near the water. She’s been trying to bury her toes in the sand, but every time the waves come up, they wash it away and she can see the chipped pink polish on her nails.  

Erza plops down beside her, beer in hand, and stretches out her legs into the water. The sun is starting to set, and the water on the lake ripples pink and gold. A breeze picks up off the water and Ellie sighs as it cools the sticky heat on her skin.  

“I’m fine,” Ellie says quietly, leaning back on her hands and looking up at the sky. In a few hours the stars will be out, and the three of them will lie on the grass and make up constellations like they’ve done every summer since they met.

“Liar,” Erza says, poking her in the ribs. Ellie swats Erza’s hand away, then grabs the beer out of her hand and takes a swig. It tastes horrible, but it keeps the mild buzz going that she’s been holding on to all night. Ellie’s skin tingles and her head is light, and it makes her feel brave.  

She doesn’t answer Erza’s question, and they sit for a while in silence before the sand next to Ellie is disturbed by Natsu plopping down beside her with a plate of marshmallows.

“Did you win?” Erza asks, taking the least-burned marshmallow from the plate. Natsu pops the blackest one into his mouth and Ellie makes a face.  

“Sort of?” Natsu says, licking the sticky mess off his fingers. Ellie quickly looks away. “Laxus threw Gajeel in the lake, so I think it was a draw.”  

Erza snorts, tipping back the rest of her beer and then settling the bottle into the sand between her and Ellie.  

“What’s up, sunshine?” Natsu asks, nudging Ellie’s shoulder. He kicks up some water and splashes the sand off her feet.  

“She’s being evasive,” Erza answers, and Natsu raises his eyebrow.  

Ellie chews her lip, thinking back to the words she’s been practicing for the past few weeks. She’s been panicking about it for days, but now that she’s here, she feels a strange sense of calm.  

She supposes it’s because she trusts Natsu and Erza with anything.

Ellie picks up a rock from the beach and tosses it into the water, watching the circles ripple out from it before asking, “can I tell you guys something?”  

“Of course,” they say in tandem, and Ellie can feel Natsu’s concerned gaze as he reaches out and takes her hand.  

Ellie takes a deep breath. “I think I’m a boy,” she says.  

The water laps up over Ellie’s ankles, dragging the sand back into the lake. Natsu runs his thumb over Ellie’s knuckles and Erza shifts closer, wrapping her arm around Ellie’s back.  

“Ells,” Natsu says gently. “We already know.”  

Ellie peeks up at him, and finds that she isn’t surprised by the soft expression on Natsu’s face. “S-since when?” Ellie asks.  

“A while now,” Erza says, resting her head on Ellie’s shoulder. “We were just waiting for you to be ready to tell us.”  

Ellie lets out a deep breath, wiping at her face in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her tears. Natsu slips their fingers together and squeezes Ellie’s hand, and they all watch the colors disappear from the lake as the sun slips below the horizon.  

“You want us to call you something else?” Natsu asks eventually. “A different name, I mean.”  

Ellie sighs, digging her – his – toes into the sand again. “No,” he says softly. He wants to say yes – he already knows the name he wants. Gray. He’s wanted it forever, written it in the margins of his journal and traced it in pen on the inside of his forearm. But saying it out loud is terrifying.  

“I don’t want—you can’t tell anyone, okay? My dad can’t know.” Gray tips his head back and stares up at the stars. “I can’t… I’m not ready.”

It feels like everything’s changed, and nothing has.  

“Okay,” Natsu says. “Your secret’s safe with us.”  

-----

The beach starts to get cold not long after sunset, and eventually Erza heads over to the bonfire, kissing Gray’s temple before she leaves. Natsu stays, and they’re still holding hands as they sit quietly under the stars.  

“I’m glad you told us,” Natsu says after a while. He tips his head so they’re looking at each other, and Gray’s face is suddenly hot despite the breeze coming off the water.  

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he says, trying to push down the desperate bubbling in his stomach. Natsu’s his best friend, and Gray has to stop thinking about kissing him. “It’s not that I didn’t trust you, I just—”  

“It’s okay.” Natsu’s voice is so soft, and Gray is very aware of every place that they’re touching – knees, hips, shoulders. Natsu is warm and comforting, and Gray never wants to leave. “Sometimes being honest is…” Natsu trails off, looking down at the sand and chewing on his lip.  

“Scary?” Gray suggests. They’re so close, and Gray digs his nails into his calf to keep himself grounded, to keep himself from leaning forward and—

“Terrifying,” Natsu whispers before he leans in and kisses Gray.  

Gray’s so surprised that he freezes, and Natsu immediately pulls back, letting go of Gray’s hand as his face turns red.  

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I—”  

Gray reaches out and cups Natsu’s cheek with a shaking hand, then swallows, brushing his fingers through Natsu’s hair. He’s wanted to do this for so long.

“You’re not drunk, are you?” he asks. His heart’s beating so fast he can barely ge the words out. Natsu shakes his head, eyes more serious than Gray’s ever seen him. “You—you want this?”  

“I have for a long time,” Natsu says, running his hand tentatively up Gray’s arm. “Shit, I’m an idiot, I didn’t—it’s not because of what you said, I’ve felt—had feelings for you for a long time, but I didn’t want to fuck things up, and…”  

“Me too,” Gray whispers, cutting Natsu off with a kiss of his own.

It feels so right – Natsu’s tanned skin beneath his fingertips, his hands in Natsu’s hair, Natsu breathing into Gray’s mouth like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.  

Gray ends up on his back in the sand with Natsu hovering over him, kissing him over and over under the thousand constellations in the sky. The bonfire burns bright and the water laps at their feet, and voices shout and murmur behind them over the sound of an acoustic guitar.  

It’s nothing but a backdrop, though, and it all fades away under the thundering of Gray’s heart and the way Natsu’s lips feel against his.  

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #ftlgbtpride2019 #day 5 #your secret is safe i won’t say a word #gratsu #natray #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #abuse #angst #mind the warnings #update #new chapter #my fic #prompt #first kiss #coming out #trans character #trans

[drdanwrites]

Won’t You Be My Neighbor 2 - *Newt x Theseus x Reader Series*

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay in my writing! It has been an insanely busy summer. I’m finally going to start having more times on the weekends. I hope you enjoy this next chapter! I’m now working on Magical Office. After that, I will be solely focused on requests. 

The solid wooden door stands in front of you. To knock or to run away quickly, that is the question playing over and over again in your mind. Beyond the door, you can hear the quickened footsteps and muffled voices of the odd men you met in the hall the day before. There was still time to make a quick escape and lock yourself safely in your apartment. As your brain contemplates your options, your hand subconsciously takes these distractions as an opportunity and connects hard with the surface of the door. It’s resounding knock echoes throughout the hallway.

What have I done…

You look surprised at your fist, resting itself against the door. The noises beyond it stop and the panic of the unknown sets within you.

What kitchen utensil will they use to murder me? A soup spoon? A ladle, a butcher knife? If they were any sort of gentlemen, they would use the butcher knife and show some kind of mercy.

While lost in your thoughts you fail to notice the shift in footsteps leading towards the door. With a jump, the lock on the door releases and a sly and handsome face welcomes you.

“Ms. Y/L/N, we’re so happy you join us this evening… it is  Ms. isn’t it?” The promise of hope lingered in the air.

Your face displays your ability to see straight through his attempt at subtlety.

“Not until my divorce is finalized.” Theseus doesn’t take notice of the joke.

“You are Theseus, correct?” Your face winces, hoping that you’ve remembered the two brothers correctly.

“One and the same.” He grins widely and wraps a welcoming arm around you and ushers you beyond the doorway. As the pair of you make your way into the hallway, you take notice of the lack of decoration and how bare the apartment seems. The two of you walk past a room, in which the door is wide open. Taking a quick peek past Theseus, you are caught off guard as you see paper zooming past the door frame and bulletin boards hanging in mid-air. You stop in your tracks and turn towards the door. Theseus looks back when he notices his arm is empty. With the speed of sound, he lunges himself at the doorknob.  

“Ha. It’s a mess in there. Let’s just…”He quickly turns to slam the door shut.

“Paper was floating.” You point to the door, still trying to figure out if you are dreaming or not.

“No, it wasn’t.” He laughs obnoxiously loud trying to compensate for something.

“Yes… yes, it was.” You press. 

“It. Wasn’t.” He says as he quickly ushers you down the hall and into the open plan living room. The kitchen table beside the far wall is done up with candlelight and a gorgeous array of China dishes.

“Didn’t you have a brother?” You ask as Theseus walks around and removes a bottle of wine from a bucket of ice, sitting on the windowsill. As if by cue, a large clatter erupts in the room to your left. You turn to the kitchen door as Theseus quickly puts down the bottle of wine and rushes over to the door.

“Should I help?” You ask concerned. Theseus turns in the doorway to face you while keeping the room's contents a secret.

“No, you’re a guest! We can handle it.”

“Theseus, come quick, the spaghetti has risen in revolt!” A voice shouts from the inner room. With a roll of his eyes, Theseus turns to deal with whatever Newt meant.

With Theseus gone, the room is quiet and curiosity of what you saw earlier starts to get the better of you. What could that have been? A trick of the eyes? Mechanics? You know what you saw and there had to be a logical explanation to justify it. You turn back to stare at that door, wondering if you could peer inside before Theseus returned. Another jolt of commotion breaks your trance and you make your way over to the door to offer assistance. Before you open the door you hear hushed voices.

“She’s not going to notice if I do it behind closed doors, Theseus.”

“That's not the point, Newt. The minister said to keep up a muggle appearance. If you make a perfect dinner with magic, she could suspect something.”

“Do you really expect her to be able to taste the difference between a magically cooked pasta compared to a hand boiled one? I mean, can you taste the difference?” A groan sounds from Theseus’s mouth.

“Okay… fine, I'll distract her, but the second she starts asking questions, I'm going to obliterate her.”

Panic begins to boil in your stomach.

Obliterate? They are planning on killing me.

You start to turn and silently try to make your way to the door.

“Is it something I said?” You stop dead in your tracks and turn back to a smirking Theseus.

“Oh no, sorry, I thought…I… Wow! Is that your view?” Desperately trying to distract Theseus from your attempt to escape you make your way out their open glass door and onto their balcony. You stare intently on the violet and auburn sunset watching the city’s skyline grow darker and darker in the anticipation of the impending nightfall. Footsteps slowly follow behind you as Theseus saunters over to you. He reaches around you and produces a glass of wine in his hand. You happily accept it and put it on your lips. You are more than happy to drown yourself in alcohol if it means you will get to leave this apartment alive. Theseus stands next to you and leans on the balcony, his wine glass in hand hanging over the side. He stares at the beautiful natural portrait in front of him, like an artist observes his masterpiece. A silent sigh of admiration escapes him and you look over at him.

“I’ve always wanted to be a part of this city. I mean, I could stare at this view for the rest of my days.” You admire his appreciation of the landscape and you look back at the sky to try and find the beauty in the ordinary sky.

“I guess, you’re telling me you didn’t have a view like this growing up? You look like a city boy.”

“Quite the opposite actually, we grew up in the country. Newt and my mother had a special bond with their love of animals. Me on the other hand, well I just felt like I belonged there. I’d much rather be among the hustle and bustle of it all.” The two of you are facing each other, closer now, the influence of the setting sun and the romantic skyline makes the conversation feel more intimate. “It’s good to feel like I belong, finally.” He gives you a smirk as he looks down at his feet and back at you. Your eyes lock onto each other and a moment passes between the two of you. The seconds slow down and feel more like hours. “Have you been here all your life?”  He asks you.

“Yes, I’ve lived in London all my life. I have to say your perspective on its beauty is quite refreshing. I’ve never really seen it as something so marvelous. Normally it’s just boring ole foggy London town to me.”

“Ahh well, you just need a fresh perspective. Allow me.” He says and walks behind you and places his hands over your eyes. A little cautious as to what could happen to you at this moment, you place your hands over his. Suddenly he lets go and shouts, “Ta-da”.

You almost laugh out loud.

“Sorry, what am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Well, it’s London, of course. Just with a new perspective.” Turning around to face Theseus, you shake your head and laugh.

“You’re funny, Mr. Scamander.” His arms seem to fall to your side as he once again looks deep into your eyes.

“Has anyone ever told you…”

Ahem!

The sound of a third party breaks up the oddly intimate moment between strangers. Theseus and you turn and look at the doorway to see Newt standing there. He holds a wine glass himself and takes a sip at the sight of you two.

“Dinner is ready, you two.” Instinctively, you move quickly away from Theseus and over to the door passing by Newt. The dinner table that you saw before was covered with an array of appetizing dishes. You are astonished at the beauty of the meal and quickly turn back to the brothers to see them in a silent quarrel.

“Newt, are you sure you're not a chef? I can't believe how perfect everything looks. I mean it could be on the cover of a magazine! This is real food right?”

“Yeah, Newt. It looks… TOO. PERFECT. TO. BE. REAL.” Theseus says through gritted teeth.

“Ah well, I just had a great recipe. It was simple to make so elegantly, as if by...” The three of you sit down and you notice Newt staring across the table at Theseus, “...magic.” He finishes and Theseus’s face arranges itself to a stone stern stare. You chuckle and pick up your fork.

“Magic. Right.” You laugh and whirl a bit of spaghetti onto your fork. After noticing that you are the only one finding the humor in this you look up to see Newt and Theseus having a heated staring contest. Your eyes dart back and forth to see who will break first. Newt begins to shake his head slightly at Theseus, turning your head to face him, you see him delving his hand slowly into this suit pocket.

“Sorry, was it something I said?” The two chant a resounding chorus of “of course nots” and “absolutely nots”.

The three of you continue through dinner chatting and learning more about each other's pasts. Through it all, you notice Theseus is on edge whenever Newt would mention their past or stories about their lives. Even with Theseus’s strange behavior, you can’t help but be drawn to Newt’s enthusiasm for his job and his stories about their past. By the time you look down at your watch, you realize dinner had been over for hours and that most of the meal had become cold.

“Wow! Is that really the time? I can’t believe I’ve stayed this long.” As you stayed up Newt quickly brought the napkin up from his lap and wiped his mouth with lightning speed. At the same time, he made a move and got up from his seat. 

"Allow me to walk you out." He stands quickly behind your chair and helps you move the chair as you stand. "Oh, wow. Thank you, Newt." You notice Theseus's odd stare as he acts the opposite of Newt and wipes his mouth with at a turtle's pace. As Newt hovers behind you, you extend a hand out to Theseus. He stands and takes it, encapsulating your hand in between both of his. "Thank you so much for coming." He charmingly smiles at you. "We hope to see you around soon." "Well, good chance of that. What, with me living next door and all." He chuckles an "oh yes." and you turn to Newt and the two of you make your way to the door. As you both make your way to the hallway, you try to slow down your pace enough so you can take another look towards that mysterious room. Was your eyes just playing games, or was there something mystical about these two brothers. Something still didn't seem right about them. Your premonitions seem confirmed when you realize Newt is almost pushing you out the door. Once at the door, Newt quickly opens it and ushers you outside its perimeter.

  "Well, thank you for coming. It was a very pleasant evening." The words barely leave his mouth before he shuts the door in your face. Blinking fast to make sure you didn't miss anything, you stare at the door that hours ago you were apprehensive about opening.

“Really Newt? You couldn’t have made it a little more clumsy looking? You’re clumsy with everything else in your life, but the one time we need it… perfection.” Theseus sits on the balcony, defensively rising to greet Newt as he walks outside.

“Me? You’re the one who wanted to invite a muggle to dinner? What was I supposed to do? Feed her slop? I was making it so I wanted it to look nice.” Newt makes his way to the balcony edge and sits on top of it. “How about next time you make the dinner and I get to flirt with the pretty muggle next door.” Newt scoffs with an annoyed look at Theseus.

“Oh I see, you’re jealous..”

“I’m not jealous… I don’t want to have to obliterate her. You’re the one who decided to invite her over and instill a relationship. We could have just as easily ignored her all together and got on with our mission.” Newt jumps down and paces by the door.

“Oh come on Newt, as long as we’re careful, we can be… neighborly.” Theseus stands up and puts an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Listen, next time we invite a muggle to dinner, I’ll cook and you can… show her one of your pets.”

“They're not pets Theseus… we’ve talked about this.” As the two brothers make their way back into their apartment, you can hear their door latch from your window and their conversation end.

#newt scamander #Newton Artemis Fido Scamander #newt scamander imagines #newt x reader #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander imagine #newtx #Newt x character #newt x #newt scamander fandom #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts #fantastic beast #fantastic beasts movie #fantastic beasts and where to find the #Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald #crimes of grindelwald #fbawtft #fbawtfedit #Theseus #theseus scamander #theseus x #theseus x reader #eddie #eddie redmayne #eddiex #eddie redmayne fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie redmayne imagine #eddie redmayne x reader

[arctic-rising]

A Dark Descent, Chapter 2: A Day Out, Part 3

(( <<Previous | Navigation | Next>> )) ((Pinglist: @starry-ampelope  @jedicreed-fr @rockback-charger @blight-nymph @ashenbicornwhale)) ((Author’s Note: I really should have mentioned this earlier, but the Dark Descent series takes place a couple years before the events of Bounty of the Elements.))

       Between the earthen and shadowed flights, a fjord cuts through, clean and clear. It is flanked by ancient stone and tangled undergrowth; pine trees with thickets of brambles at their bases that glow when the moons reach their zenith and towering cliff faces. Despite this, the water is a sparkling blue- a perfect mirror of the mid-day sky for those who view it. Neither muddied silt nor blue algae lays claim to the border, leaving it as beautiful as the jewels hidden underneath the earth’s crust. Wisteria looks over the scene with a keen eye. It’s not often that she’s able to take the more scenic routes when traveling, so a part of her mourns that she’s far too curious about Kordanas to really enjoy it.

       “Kord, I’m sure you’re telling the truth, but I really don’t think regenerating into an entirely different dragon is just a weird thing you can do.”

“I am sorry, but I don’t know how else to put it.”

       Wisteria glances over at her companions. Athena has been keeping pace with Kordanas, occasionally righting herself to keep from crashing into him. The imperial -no, guardian, in question seems to be doing alright so far. He’s not lagging behind, so Wisteria is going to take that as a good sign.

       She’s not sure why they thought it would be a good idea to fly all the way home, but she’s not going to fight it. It’s a nice view, at least.

“Does anyone else know you can do this?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“I dunno, maybe some weirdo out there made you like this so you could serve them forever.”

“Athena, I really don’t think-”

“It’s a possibility! There’s some weird dragons out there! We’ve met weird dragons before!”

There’s a beat of silence before Kordanas speaks up again.

“Maybe you should stop having stare-downs with Scribbles whenever we visit Tomo.”

“He’s planning something, I know it.”

“He writes things down. How is that suspicious?”

“He writes weird things down. Why does he use invisible ink sometimes? Why is quartz cursed? He knows something we don’t, I can feel it!”

“We could say the same for any of the dragons at the trading post.”

“Uh, not really, no. It’s natural for dragons to have hoarding problems, and Pink’s just trying to keep Crim in check. Swipp has tons of connections- he’s probably in touch with some super fancy seamstress and a familiar breeder.”

“Baldwin literally changed himself from a pearlcatcher to a bogsneak. On accident, Athena. How do you breed change on accident?”

“Well you-”

       Wisteria allowed the next gust of wind to push her backward so she could glide next to Kordanas. “Sorry to interrupt. I think we are getting off track.” 

       Athena blinked and nodded. “Okay, right. So, this regenerating thing. Have you always been able to do it, or is this new?”

       “I have always been able to change when times are most dire. It, ah, it is an ability that was common in my birth clan.” Kordanas’ rumbling voice grew soft as he spoke. The wind almost drowned him out, snatching away his words. Wisteria drifted closer, her claws brushing an errant vine that curled around Kordanas’ wing. “My memory of my first home is fuzzy, but I remember our priestess telling us that our ability was a gift from the Gladekeeper. We thanked her for it every sunset by offering something in return at the old willow in the center of a forest.”

“Our ability? So there were others who had the same power?” Athena asked. 

       Kordanas nodded. “Yes, although I do not remember it being talked about outside of the offering ritual. My clan mates were very.... what’s the term? Hush-hush about it.”

       “What things did you offer to the Gladekeeper?” Wisteria had to push to keep pace with Kordanas. Despite having morphed into an entirely new dragon, he seemed to be doing just fine cruising over the rushing river. 

       “Homemade items, mostly. Figurines made from sticks and grass, flower wreaths, and carved logs were common. Occasionally someone would bring a precious stone or a clawful of coins, but...” Kordanas frowned, and narrowed his eyes in thought. Athena and Wisteria stayed quiet.

       “I think there was an element of shame for not being able to offer something made from nature. No one would say anything during the ritual, but there was silent scorn from the priestess.”

“I wonder why..” Athena mused. “Did your clanmates regenerate a lot?”

       “No, not that I can remember. There was one incident where a group went to investigate something along the border, and only one came back. But they were different; changed from a wildclaw into a pearlcatcher.”

“Did they act differently?” Wisteria asked.

“I do not think so. I did not interact with them much in the first place.”

“Do you know if other clans had this power?” Athena asked

       Kordanas shook his head, “No. We did not get many visitors. Not any that I can remember, at least.”

Athena frowned and Wisteria sighed.

       “That is a very odd power to have,” The little nocturne said. She let her gaze wander to the rushing waters below them, watching their faint shadows ripple over the waves. 

       “Yeah, Wisteria’s right,” Athena said, “I wanna know what your clan did to get that.”

“I am sorry that I cannot tell you more,” Kordanas said. 

       “It’s fine big guy. It’s just weird, ya know?” The tundra said, and gently bumped the edge of her wing with Kordana’s. The guardian smiled and nudged her back. “Every flight has their secrets. I wanna know more about this, but I’m too tired to head back into Nature.”

       “You have a good point, Athena. I too would like to return home as soon as possible,” Kordanas said. Wisteria nodded in agreement.

       The conversation died into companionable silence. Wisteria spent the majority of the time watching the glittering water as the sun rose and fell as the day dragged on. Eventually the trio came to rest along the steep shores of Dragonhome, setting up a small camp on a dusty ledge that jutted over the fjord. Athena and Kordanas focused on preparing the tent that they would sleep in for the night while Wisteria hunted for fresh food on the edge of the Tangled Wood. When the nocturne fluttered back, three walleyes, two ravens and a claw-full of tarantulas and snapdragons, the others had managed to get a fire going. Kordanas had curled around the flame while Athena was rummaging through her packs, triumphantly pulling out a package of dried stalks. 

“Athena. I already got food. We can save that for later,” Wisteria said as she ran her paw over a nearby stone and placed her findings on it.

       The tundra blinked, placed her ration back into her bag and went about helping Wisteria prepare a meal for the three of them out of her haul. Kordanas spent the majority of the evening sleeping, only waking to eat dinner and take first watch. The night went without a hitch, and Athena helped divide the left overs for breakfast.

       The rest of the travel went smoothly, the trio bouncing between Shadow and Earth for camp, and quickly heading off each morning. They were all eager for a break from flight as the mottled brown and red ground of the Scarred Wasteland came into view. The river became smaller as the edges of Earth and Shadow grew closer together, and finally the land of Plague forced the rapids to split into two, one branch leading out to the great unknown while the other fed into the Tidelord’s domain. Pale spires of wood and massive bone stretched towards the sky in the distance, and the sickly hued clouds drifting above became thicker as the group drew closer. The air grew sour with something foul, and Wisteria wrinkled her nose. She could easily imagine the grimace on Athena and Kordanas as they swooped closer to the ground. Green splotches glowed underneath mottled red land that curled like scar tissue, and if Wisteria looked hard enough, she was sure that she could make out the faint whites of bones peeking out of the twisted earth. 

“Hey! My wings are sore as hell, think we should take a pit stop?” Athena called out. 

“Soon as we find a hospitable town. I would rather continue on than get shot out of the sky or travel on foot with no directions,” Kordanas said.

“I agree,” Wisteria said. Athena nodded and the three pushed on.

       It wasn’t until dusk that they found a place that was willing to take them in. A small clan of snappers and a ridgeback that lived in burrowed tunnels granted them refuge in exchange for a portion of the tadpoles they had collected. In the morning they were able to get directions to the nearest town, and off they went.

       Time passed, and by midday the three managed to reach the front gates of Matiken; a spiraling town that lay over a hill, and was protected by a wall made of stone and curling rot, where sharpened bones jutted outwards to the unending expanse of the wandering contagion. Peaks of low buildings were just visible, while second and third story homes towered above the walls. Simple stone and wood buildings seemed to be common from what Wisteria could make out. The rough natural landscape transitioned to rugged cobble and worn paths as Athena, Wisteria, and Kordanas entered the plague town. Occasionally another dragon would pass them, but it seemed that most folks were tucked away in their dens for the time being. 

       The trio eventually reached what Wisteria could guess was the plaza of the clan. The stone path opened up in a diamond-shaped clearing, each side home to a different and equally important looking building. The tall structures loomed over the gnarled ground, casting shadows that merchants had set up shop in as they worked through the summer heat. 

       “Sooo. Who wants to haggle and who wants to look for a place to spend the night?” Athena asked. Her armor and fur had attained a layer of red dirt without her realizing, and it wafted away whenever her tail swiped across the path.

       “I can look for a room. You two are better at talking than me.” Wisteria said. Kordanas blinked and Athena pulled a face at her. The nocturne wasn’t sure what that was all about, but she wasn’t intent on finding out. “Besides. You two have the stuff.”

       “Yeah, alright. Don’t spend all our gold in one place,” Athena said. She began to walk into the plaza with Kordanas in tow. The guardian spared one last glance at Wisteria over his shoulder before turning back to the tundra. 

       It was easy enough for the little nocturne to find an affordable inn. She was excited to tell the others that she didn’t even have to trade one of their remaining tadpoles as she carefully went about settling in for the night. 

#lore archives #book 1 - chapter 2: a day out - part 3 #flight rising #fr #this little bit took me Far too long and i blame college

[cloversreblogs]

Memento Mori- ABHOT submission

@aphabriefhistoryoftime

Links: FFN.net, AO3, Wattpad

Remember that you have to die. One day, you will be gone. One day, you will be forgotten, and the legacies you leave in this realm will be left to rot. He, the Kingdom of the Franks, was always afraid of this truth. So he will do whatever it took for him to stay in power. Even if it meant killing his kings.

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Characters: APH Kingdom of the Franks (OC), APH France, APH HRE/Germany, APH Lotharingia (OC), APH Aachen (OC), many mentioned nation OCs (APH Gaul, APH Saxons, APH Alemanni, APH Rome, APH Germania), many mentioned Frankish rulers (Clovis I, Louis the Pious and his 3 sons, Charlemagne)

Genre: Tragedy, spiritual

Rating: T 

Warning(s): Strong dealings of death, 2 attempted murders (regicide and sororicide), existential crises, overall a very depressing fic, don’t read if you have an existential crisis

Words: 5.1K

Yeah it’s a lot of angst here. If you want any sunshine and rainbows, then oh man have you gone to the wrong place

Please note that I am not a historian, so if there were any mistakes in regards to history, please let me know, and that will be noted.

This fic is set during and after the Treaty of Verdun, which marked the end of the Carolingian civil war. It split the Carolingian Empire into 3 territories, East, Middle, and West Francia, and in most cases, marked the end of the kingdom of the Franks. Some say that the Kingdom of the Franks never ended, however, and instead evolved into Modern France and Germany. In my interpretation, the Treaty of Verdun is the official death of the kingdom of the Franks, and so he died entirely when the last king of the Carolingian Dynasty (Charlemagne’s dynasty) died.

For all of you wondering what Frank looks like, he looks like Odin Grina

East Francia/Karl- HRE/Germany

Middle Francia/Lotharingia- original OC

West Francia- France

I headcanon France and Germany as related, which is partially thanks to this comic

Treaty of Verdun. August, 843 A.D.

Verdun-sur-Meuse, Carolingian Empire.

Memento mori.

Remember that you have to die. One day, you will be gone. One day, you will be forgotten, and the legacies you leave in this realm will be left to rot.

Even nations, no matter how prosperous or deific they were, submit to this rule and fall. From fresh, new nations too prone to death, to ancient empires that crumbled at its own power.

He, the Kingdom of the Franks, was always afraid of this truth. That any memory of him will fade into oblivion once he's gone. When will this happen? How? Due to this fear, he lived by Carpe Diem. To seize every day to the best of his ability, in hopes that by doing so, his legacy will live on further.

But now, his end his end was near. Too near. The pain inside his skull pulsed in the torment of civil war. The war between Louis the Pious’ three sons tore his sanity and mind apart. If not careful, they could divide his land. He could not live past this war, he could not. It was a feeling deep down his guts, instinct, that told him that nevermore will he be an empire.

He had lived past several other civil wars. This one shouldn’t drive him to the absolute breaking point yet, it shouldn’t. It was too early. Rome had a legacy of over a millennium, his own had not lasted half as long. Why would he, a warrior, a conqueror like him, perish under the hands of his own rulers? It was not right. He was a nation, he was strong. He will emerge, alive. No matter what it took.

As the quill stained the surface of the parchment, he gripped tighter onto his dagger. Frank’s forehead was damp, and his lungs ache for air. Fear rattled deep within him. How come? He told his gentle self. This was no different than on the battlefield.

If they died, he would live.

Screw your courage to the sticking place, he scolded. It will be like in battle. A stab at the heart or better, the head, and it will be over. It didn’t matter if they were his kings. He was their nation, and only he will say in who lives and who dies.

The dagger’s handle pained his palm as he gripped it and welled up his nerve. As the other members of the court watched them, he shifted to behind the last of the sons who signed the parchment. Slipping a bit of the dagger out its sheath, he squeezed his eyes together and pulled it over his head.

With all his might, he brought the blade down. A grip held his wrist up above their heads.

When he flung his eyes open, he saw a court member and a guard stopping his blade from descending. Fury burning within him. he yelled and struggled as the court members gasped in shock at the spectacle.

Not yet. Not yet! One movement and he will live. He will not go gently yet!

He…

He...

The furious fire dissipated as a hollow feeling filled him. His mind went blank, and the room spun.

The paved floor below him rippled, and he lost his footing as all the nerves in his body collapsed.

The treaty. He had been too late. The sons had signed the treaty during the commotion. As he fell, he saw three boys clad in white linen, appearing behind each of the sons.

His head hit the stone floor, and a crack wrecked through his skull. There was some commotion in the room, drowned out by an uncomfortable buzz. The light of the room darkened. While his head throbbed harder, he slipped into unconsciousness.

Frank groaned as he came to, and winced in pain at the pain at the back of his head. His head was wrapped up in a bandage, and as he looked around, he realised that he was placed back into his chamber. A hollow, nauseous feeling washed over his entire self. He didn’t feel like anything alive.

He knew why. The three boys behind each of Pepin’s sons had confirmed his worst fears.

Never before were there other personifications of his kingdom than him. It was always just himself, and his watchdogs of kings, dukes, and princes.

Now, he was back into his room. The grey granite of the castle room was dyed a cold, indigo blue of twilight. It was midnight when he became unconscious. How long had it been since then? The quiet was not right either. Only the trees and wind outside rustled and howled. He had been changed into a linen nightgown. His silken clothes sat beside him, with his sword in its scabbard resting on top. The dagger was removed.

Frank's head collided with the pillow. He was so pathetic. Was a scratch of the quill against parchment what had ended him? Was-

The sound of stone scraping against shoe echoed in the room.

He spun his eyes towards where the noise came from. While he was worn down, his senses honed from his hunting days were still sharp.  A shadow in the far end corner that hid away from the window’s light. He peered, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark. A ripple of white linen stood out in contrast of the dark.

The same clothes that each of the boys wore.

“Come out, all three of you,” he ordered. His voice came out scratchier than he had expected, but it was clear enough to work. There was some shuffling in the shadows, before one of them came out, the dying sun illuminating him.

He was a spitting image of when he was a child. Blonde hair, his fog blue eyes, everything. On closer inspection, Frank realised his mistake. Judging from the round quality of her face, it was a girl.

“You… you are the Kingdom of the Franks,” she whispered, voice like the breaths of wind. This child had a lighter voice. Two children and a girl.

“Yes.” In response, she gripped her nightdress, clearly wiping the sweat off of her palms on the linen.

“I-I am Middle Francia.” The way she had said it told him that she was instructed to say it. Like as if he was a dying man who was supposed to pass his wisdom to his heirs. Fools, if they thought that was the last of him.

By now, the other two children came out also. West and East Francia, he presumed. They were dead ringers for the girl, though they were both clearly boys. He squinted. If the girl looked like him when he was a child, the two boys looked closer. One of them had blue eyes the shade of spring skies that sparked with a certain warm kindness. He had seen those eyes before-

oh, no. No no no. Those were Gaul’s eyes. What cruel joke was this? Brung back to haunt him- Frank snapped himself out of it. The boy’s kingdom probably included Gaul’s land. It happened. When a child personification inherits the land of a previous personification, they would always inherit some kind of trait from them, whether if they were related or not.

The other boy had lighter hair, but paler eyes. Frank frowned. He resembled Alemanni, the tribe that was annexed into the kingdom. They both had an expression of nervousness, but the first one had a clearer expression of uncertainty, the lighter haired one tried to hide it with sternness and courage.

A buzzing sensation filled his ears. The room spun. Before they could continue, the room around him turned blurry, and everything blacked out.

To his shock, he didn’t die straight away.

Why? After the treaty, it should have been the end of him. Unless it meant that fate decided to spare him a while longer.

Every dawn, he hoped for a chance that the ruler would come to his senses and reunite the empire. Every dusk, that wishful fulfillment was left to dust. Every day, that hope would fade more and more, until it rotted into bitter anger.

Such an easy task. He should have risen up. Frank glanced down at his hand. He twitched a finger, but a migraine and a nauseous sensation filled his head. His ears rang. With all of his strength, he lifted his hand up, ignoring the sick feeling that came with it.

Not even a foot up, his nerves collapsed, and his hand fell back onto the duvet. Frank welled up all of his strength again, but his mind fogged, and he collapsed back before he drifted back into unconsciousness.

Every day, his strength weakened, and more humiliation filled him every time. 

Every day, all he could do was lie down, and watch as the sunrise turn to the sunset, midnight turn to noon, and the Summer turn to the Winter.

It drove him insane. How long had it been since he had ‘died’? All conception of the time was lost. Only the sun and the moon told him how long. How many times did the sun set and the moon rise? A lot. What had happened to his kingdom outside of this cell?

Pathetic. He was absolutely pathetic. What had become of him? A respected empire now bedridden.

This was not the end of him. He will not allow it.

Day. Night. Sunrise. Noon. Sunset. Summer. Autumn. Winter. Spring. Watch.

Day. Night. Sunrise. Noon. Sunset. Summer. Autumn. Winter. Spring. Watch.

Day. Night. Sunrise. Noon. Sunset. Summer. Autumn. Winter. Spring. Watch.

And repeat.

A scream pierced the night. He had enough.

Frank grabbed his sword that was sheathed in the scabbard. He pulled out the weapon, and with all his gathered might, stood up.

He squeezed his eyes shut at a migraine. The strong pulse like he had bashed his head into an iron church bell, but he gripped his sword tight. The stone floor shattered his knees, and a spike of pain pierced his abdomen. A scream of pain escaped.

When he opened his eyes, blood dyed black spilled on the moonlit floor.

A guard had carried him back. He wanted to struggle against it, but his mind was too fogged to do anything. Stop it. Stop this! He wanted to say, but the pain in his head pulsed too much.

For the night, shameless tears were shed. Pathetic.

The event was a slap in his face of how much he withered since. He wanted to forget about it. He didn’t want it to happen again.

Since then, more people came into the room, mostly maids. For the first time, a maid peeked her head through a gap of the door, her eyes wide. The whole time she stayed inside, she shivered. As if he was a resting dragon with unimaginable power. She had a duster with her, as well as a cognac bottle and some cloth.

She pulled back the cover. With shaky hands, she applied the cognac onto his wound. It stung, but Frank stayed silent.

Now that they knew he was not of any threat, the maids would no longer shiver. Instead, they hummed, as if they were alone, cleaning in their own homes.

The wound would not heal. It clotted, but it wouldn’t harden.

To his disgust, sometimes it was one of the three children who entered. As the maids grew more and more used to him, they visited more often.

West Francia, who called himself Francis, was the one who visited him the most. East Francia visited him also, but it was to console with him with politics, warfare, and advice of the court. He even chose his name to be Karl, after his ruler Charlemagne, the one who had started his golden years of the Carolingian Renaissance. Francis simply told him of his day to day life.

At first, he was a little disgusted. Was he the heir to his land? A ruler should be strong and battle worthy. He hated being pitied, which was why Francis talked to him. For a while, he resented him, and so didn’t pay attention to what he was saying.

One day, he reminded himself-- he was a child.

What did he do when he was his age? He didn’t care about becoming an empire back then, he just lived as he did. His desire to become an empire came only when Clovis I suggested it to him.

It was better having company and someone to talk to rather than rot on a bed. Before he knew it, he started to look forward to his visits. It took his mind off of his current state and allowed him to simply let be, to actually enjoy himself for once, even if it was just listening to him speak.

“Frank… is it lonely up here?”

Lonely? More like stuck in the labyrinth of his own thoughts to compensate for the months of being bedridden.

“Yes. I suppose.” The way he said it touched him a little, how he thought enough of him to ask this.

One time, Karl stopped when he saw Francis already talking to him. With envy in his eyes, Karl backed out.

Already was East Francia focused on glory, while his brother was focused on the little things in life. What did he focus on when he was a child?

He focused on living his life. Playing with his brothers, hunting game in the cool, green glade. Never did he want to become an empire in the first place… it was only at the suggestion of Clovis II that it grew into a desire.

What stood out to him was that only once did Francis call him a father, and that was only when he first began visiting him. It was opposed to Karl, but he had a feeling that it was more towards duty than an actual connection.

He couldn’t call himself one either. A father should be a parent who protected his kids, no matter the cost. He was too young to be one. His empire lasted for less than a millennia. He doubted that he reached 20 physically.

Frank remembered his father, Germania, a whispered legend amongst his siblings. He did his best in raising them all. It was not a glamorous upbringing, he wasn't by their side all the time, but he was always there when he needed him. Always there to guide him.

But now he couldn’t even stand up. He was a crippled man. Yet he still had the audacity to call him their father?

Francis’ visits thinned in quantity, from every day slipping to every week to every month, from hours worth of conversations to quick recaps of what had happened. Now, it had been a year since he last saw him.

One day, it was not Francis, nor Karl, nor the maids which came in, but a girl.

A girl with blonde, braided hair appeared behind the door. She was clad in fine clothes and armour, so it could not be one of the maids.

Middle Francia. Frank realised that it had been a long time since he had seen her.

“Can you please teach me?” She whispered. She hung her head down in a way that told him she feared him.

“Teach you what?”

“Fighting strategies.” Fighting strategies?

"Is that all?"

“Yes. I want to be able to defend myself from invaders.” That was a new reason. Unlike Karl who learnt battle techniques for the opposite reason.

“Defend from who?” Her eyebrows knitted into a frown as she looked down and chewed her lip.

“I’ve forgotten what they were called.” She was lying. Perhaps it was because she was too prideful to say who. He used to do that.

“Forgotten? Then learn their names. To fight an enemy, you need to know your enemy enough, find a weak place, and target that.” She nodded, her features tense, before she looked to the floor, thinking. Frank remembered how he’d ask his father for defense strategies, and plan it out in his head just like her. The girl reminded him of himself more so than he had thought.

“Your land contains the centre of my kingdom, correct?”

“Yes.” The centre of his kingdom contained his homelands before he became an empire. No wonder she reminded him of himself.

Frank realised that she had never told him what his human name was. “Have you picked out a name for yourself yet?”

“No. But I’m named Lotharingia rather than Middle Francia now."

For the rest of the afternoon, they discussed defense strategies-- she was reluctant to learn offense strategies.

Finally, she did a small bow. "Thank you for your time," she bid. Without a second word, she left.

When the door clicked close, he resumed into his limbo.

He hoped that either Lotharingia or Francis was visiting the next time the door creaked open. To his surprise, it was Karl. But Karl was lacking the air of focus in his eyes. Something was wrong.

“How’s your sister? I haven’t heard from her in a while.” At the word sister, Karl tensed up. Frank rose an eyebrow at the act, and a pang of horror struck him. It couldn’t be. Was she dead?

Karl placed a bloody knife onto the bed.

“I... I am the true heir of the Franks. Right?”

Lothairingia’s land contained his homelands.

Karl must’ve felt the cold stare down his neck. He backed away as Frank tensed.

"Did you kill her?" He growled. Karl's head shakes released tension from within his head, but the audacity of the attempt left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I... I-I'm-"

“Leave,” he commanded. “Take your blade with you.” Karl staggered back to the door. He looked away from his gaze, his blonde fringe sticking to his sweaty, pasty forehead before he reached the handle and left.

The red stain remained a horrid copper smell that started to fill the room. Frank dug his nose into the pillow to muffle it.

So that was what they were concerned of the most. Whether or not they were his true heir! A dreaded feeling in his gut, instinct, told him that Francis desired the same. What he had thought were Francis’ comforting words were now techniques to win over his favour. What he had thought were questions of a nation were now methods to surpass him.

Was that all they cared about? Being the true heir? No wonder Lotharingia asked him of fighting strategies. No wonder she never mentioned the names of the invaders. Because they were the ones who attacked. She never even pick out a name for herself!

Was this the fate of the ones less fortunate than oneself? In the act of becoming great, people below perish? He never thought much about war. Something about Lotharingia's death snapped his heartstrings in half. He thought of how he and his siblings fought. Was this why Germania was never there?

For the night, he allowed himself to be in sorrow. The next time he regained consciousness, his temples were wet.

But the world outside of the castle walls moved on. He longed to be out there. Under the sun as the smell of trees blew with the wind, into the forest catching game, swimming in the lakes cool from the shade, but instead, he was stuck in this miserable fucking hellhole.

He sighed. What good was it to resist that urge to swear? Eternal damnation in exchange for just one curse word? He’d take that any day.

Was this what he deserved? Under Clovis I, he converted to Christianity and set out to convert the rest of Europe as well, to free people of the so-called damnation. Yet people who died because of him.

Gaul. Saxon... he had told himself that it was for the good of Europe. Now that he witnessed an attempted fratricide, he wondered if it was worth it.

There were rumours that Rome was still alive. Was he rotting somewhere like him, begging for death to take him swiftly? Drifting from consciousness to unconsciousness, too tired to care?

He mused for a while longer. His eyelids grew heavy, and he fell back to sleep.

—-

The sensation was as if a pail of cold water was splashed onto him. He was dry, lest for sweat that glued his hair and clothes onto his skin, but awake, as if he had woken from a dreaded dream.

A maid pouring him water yelped in surprise and spilt some drops of water onto the bed.

His head was spinning as if he was sick. Sick… he hadn’t felt that way for years. Tired? Yes. But that was a lack of feeling. Right now, he felt alive. Sick, sure, but alive and breathing. Frank actually felt alive. Heaving in, breath by breath, the cold air shocked and rejuvenated his lungs. The maid flinched when he looked her way, gripping her water jug tight.

What had happened that made him feel so alive? Frank heard chatter and music from downstairs. A celebration? He connected the event of the celebration to him awakening… was his empire reunited? Frank ordered the maid to fetch his clothes and got dressed, and cursed at his feeble knees and ankles as he went down the stairs. Being bedridden for years, his bones ached and wobbled all over. Before he could reach the end, his knees collapsed. He gripped onto the iron railings to stop himself from crashing downwards but hissed in pain as his knees crashed into the cobblestone stairs.

He forgot his pain when in the dim light, the bones of his hands pressed white against his skin. When did his hands turn so thin? Feeling his face, he noted the loss of softness in the cheeks. Around his eyes, his cheeks, it was bony. He felt his chin and frowned at his beard. Even when he didn’t shave, his beard hadn’t grown much. Had his limbo stopped it?

The sound of lutes and gossip caught his attention. Frank noticed the door in front of him. Standing up, he opened it and flinched at the bright lights.

Nobody stopped when he entered the room. Compared to the greens, reds, and blues of the guests, Frank's clothes had faded into a grey colour. As he made his way through the crowd, Frank realised that he didn’t recognise anyone attending the party. All the noblemen, noblewomen, he swore he could see some resemblance to people at the court he had known. How many generations had he skipped?

Until he saw a flash of blonde in the crowd. It was his capital Aachen.

“Aachen?”

Said capital turned around. He stared blankly, like if he was a stranger.

“Aachen. It’s me.”

Aachen gasped as his forehead turned white as if he had seen a ghost. He couldn’t blame him, he had been bedridden for decades. He must’ve thought that he was dead.

It was strange to see him now. While it had only been 40 years since he had last seen him, the city in question had grown his hair a bit longer. He cleared his throat and placed his goblet on the table.

“A lot has changed since the treaty,” he muttered, looking away. “This is Charles the Fat’s coronation.”

“Fat?”

“Yeah, look at him. He’s... “ Aachen stopped and cleared his throat. “Big.” Frank looked forward, and the King was indeed fat, big was an understatement. Even now, Aachen was still cowardly and soft-spoken.

“Did the kingdoms reunite?”

“There was no more heir for the West, so he was crowned King.” So it was something by chance that he was resurrected, but in no way was it an attempt to revive him.

His eyes wandered across the coronation, recognising nobody until he saw Francis. Francis had grown taller and grew his hair longer to his shoulders. His eyes wandered around, and he saw Karl, who had trimmed it into a neat bowl cut. Francis was joking with some other nobles, his capital focused on a book, while Karl was talking with his own capital. The two stood away from each other. A larger divide between the two has formed since he had last seen them.

Karl caught a glimpse of him but was distracted by another court member. Barely a glimpse. Like he couldn’t be bothered with.

He frowned at Lotharingia's absence. Where was she? It seemed only yesterday since that dreaded day, yet still, the court members joked like nothing had happened. Was she too unwell for the coronation? At such a young age?

Memento mori. Remember that you have to die. No matter what you are, the world moved on. Like him. He was a ghost that no one, not even his former capital, recognised. His role in the narrative was over. No longer was he in charge of the narrative, but he was now a bystander who could only watch as the world unfolded before him.

Was this why people pass away? Because the final chapter of their narrative was finished. There was nothing left for them to tell, and so the world moves on from them.

Perhaps the dream of becoming a mighty Empire like Rome was a luxury only a few could afford. To be remembered, admired. But maybe even Rome one day will be forgotten. People used to praise him back when he was recognised. But look at him now. Maybe it will take much, much longer, but Rome, too, will be forgotten to time’s abyss.

Frank admitted that it had been a decent life.

Once Charles had died, he was resumed into becoming bedridden.

Not even fate had decided to revive him. The last few years were a test of the waters, to see if he was still viable as a nation. Apparently not.

At last, he felt a twinge within him. In Greek myth, the sisters cut the strings of souls who were due for the Underworld. A nation had one for each citizen within them. Whenever they break, they were unnoticeable, nothing more than the pain of a hair being pulled out. Over the course of centuries, as fewer people aligned themselves as a member of his nation, the strings had been pulled out one by one. Until at last, there was only one strand left.

Frank sighed in relief as the last connection snapped within him. It was the last King, Louis V. He was waiting for that one to break. A nation’s people was everything. He now understood that the condition of leaving your roots to let them start new ones was a consensual one. And now, his time had come.

Perhaps it was the very nature of nations like him. No matter how powerful, it was always the most unexpected and simple route that brought them to their demise. Rome, though mighty and grand, fell at his own power. Even after Hellenising the world, Greece’s empire eventually fell apart due to its size. His demise was not as mighty, or grand, but rather, as a result of some scratches of ink on the paper.

What was born of flames die in flames, and what was born of dirt die of dirt. He had lived for centuries as an empire, so long that he had forgotten his origins as a group of tribes by the Rhine. Wouldn’t living a life of flame mean that one would end in them?

The sound of a door swinging open shocked him out of his thoughts, and he spun his eyes around.

True to his prediction, Francis stood, his blonde hair brushed into a small ponytail. This was the first time that he had seen him in decades. He cleared his throat.

“They call me Frank now.”

“Frank?”

“Or France. I-I’m still calling myself Francis, though.” His voice was shaky as if he was aware that this meant that it was the end of him. Already his legacy had become his, became a part of him. Already had those who called themselves the Franks thought of Francis rather than him as their leader. Frank simply nodded.

“l see. Karl?” Francis frowned a little in response.

“Well… he named himself the Holy Roman Empire.” His title. His name. The Holy Roman Emperor was a name that Charlemagne had been appointed to. And now… now his name was given to his successor. Both of his names were taken. It was funny. Karl, the successor who dreamt of glory, inherited his title, while Francis, the successor who didn’t focus on that as much inherited his original name.

“Francis, listen,” he croaked.

“Hm?”

“My time… it has come to an end,” His vision was darkening, and a feeling in his gut, instinct, told him that it was today.

“An end?” He nodded.

“It’s time for me to leave.” He groaned and felt the muscles in his neck loosen. Francis knelt down and held his skeletal hand, worn out compared to his own, before stroking it. Frank frowned, remembering his tactics to win his affections. “I know you want to be my true successor.”

A gasp escaped out of Francis. He sighed, as he searched for an answer. “I… I want to be loved. Admired. Like you.” Love. Admiration. Ironically both concepts that his reign had lacked. Did anyone love him? Did anyone admire him? No.

“I was never loved or admired, Francis. No one remembers me now. Unless you rise to the glory of Rome himself, unless you reconquer all of Europe again, you will forever be stuck in the shadow of the greats. Forever you will be forgotten by history as just another impersonator.” Realising his muscles were tense, he lied back down. “Look at me, for example. Does anyone still admire me?”

“I admire you! Karl-”

“I am respected only because I mimicked Rome. But what else is there? Tell me!” He scolded. Francis took a step back. Frank calmed down as a headache rose. “If you want to be loved, don't follow my footsteps. More than one nation wants to rise to the glory of Rome, but few succeed." There were so many more things he wanted to say. Who will admire you once they forget you? And even if your legacy was admired, what good was it to lead more people to the hopeless endeavour of fame? He chose to stay quiet. "I doubt that they were loved because of it. Understood?”

“... I-”

“Yes or no, do I have to repeat myself?”

“No, you don't. I understand.” Frank’s features relaxed.

“Good.”

When he lied back and closes his eyes, a small smile formed on the side of his mouth. His vision darkened much faster than usual, but not of drowsiness.

Death was easier than falling asleep. With sleep, you had to be drowsy first. With death, you simply lie back and let be.

I’m still unsure about the date that Frank died tho since people still saw themselves as the Franks. I found out that the Capetian Dynasty, the dynasty that succeeded the Carolingian Dynasty, saw themselves as Frankish. So I could just mark Frank’s death with the date of the last ruler’s death, right? Well nope, cause this dynasty ended during the French Revolution. Just imagine the comedy!

“Francis. Listen. My time… it has come to an end.”

“You’ve been dying and saying that for 900 years now oh my lord”

Thank you for reading!

#abriefhistoryoftime #aph kingdom of the franks #aph france #aph hre #tw: death mention

[buckyimagines]

Heaven’s Gate

Summary: this is based off of Heaven’s Gate by Fall Out Boy. It just just the story of you and Bucky told from Bucky’s point of view. 

Word Count: 1987

Warnings: fluff, angst, battle scene, allusions to smut, language

A/N: I wan inspired by Fall Out Boy’s new album and decided to write something. As always feed back is encouraged and thank you for reading

One look from you

And I’m on that faded love

Out of my body

And flying above

The sun flooded through the window, illuminating the room with a soft warm glow that cascaded over the desk, the pictures on the wall, and the curvature of your body. It highlighted the red in your y/h/c hair and the the three freckles that are at the corner of your mouth which twitched into a smile.

“What are you staring at?”  you say with sleep still blanketing your voice. I look up into your y/e/c eyes and only saw love shining there. A smile making its way on to my face.

“An angel.” I say lifting my hand and brushing a strand of hair that fell on to your face. You scoffed and rolled over but I still saw the blush rise on your cheeks.

“Cheesy as always Barnes.” You then stretch out, and hearing a few things pop you then grabbed the sheet and held it to your body as you rose from the bed. My eyes trailed you walk across the room to the bathroom door where you paused. You look back with a mischievous smile on you face and the sunshine giving you a halo around your head. “Are you going to join me or am I just going to have to shower all be myself?”

I jumped off the bed and ran over to you sweeping you off your feet. You let out a squeal and laughed which sounded like music to my ears

If there were any more left of me

I’d give it to you

And I’ll tell you I am fine

But I'm a missile that’s guided to you

I woke up from the slight jolt on my leg. It was as if I was drowning from in the depths of my past and I was coming to the surface and I saw those same y/e/c that were lit by the moon light pouring in through that window. You were crouched down off to the side of the bed with your hand still on my leg and wearing a look of concern.

“Buck you okay?” and with the single question the tears flooded into my eyes and I curse them for making you look bleary because you are so beautiful. Yet they come because you are so caring and kind.

“What do you need?” you ask standing up. I grab your hand and pull you too me.

“I need you.” I say brokenly as a I wrap my arms around you and I know that I’m hugging to tight but I just needed to feel you and feel your body against mine. To feel your heartbeat beat alongside mine. To know that you are alive and in my arms. The nightmare had been about you and more specifically about losing you. It’s not the first time it has happened but this one just felt so real. I swear I felt the life run out of you body and it was a result of my own hands. My own destruction that has ruined so many lives and no doubt in the end I will destroy yours.

I have tried to convince you that there is nothing that is left in me that is good or worthwhile, yet you stuck around and tried to convince me otherwise. You tell me about the light that you see in me, and even though I don't believe you, I try so hard to work on finding that light in myself. I want to be the person that you believe that I am, to give you everything I that I can offer because I love you to my core.

Go out in the world to start over again and again

As many times as ya can

And in the end if I don't make it on the list

Would you sneak me a wristband?

“Okay so everybody is on a mission today so there should be no one but us in the tower to meet for now.” Steve said as he pressed the button on the elevator door. I nod in response and we continue the ride in silence. I was nervous. Today was the day I moved in to the tower. A new beginning, as Steve had called it, but I lived in reality. My past will follow me wherever I go, in the way that people talk about me but also it lives in  my head.

The doors open and a song over the speaks in blaring.

“What the hell?” Steve mutters next to me and he walks out of the elevator and around a corner and I follow with my shoulders tense, ready for an attack. As a walk around the corner into a room that seems to be the kitchen and I find Steve with an amused expression staring at someone. I turn to see who it is and they are dressed in a faded oversized shirt that falls around their thighs and what seems to be fuzzy socks. You were facing the other direction not yet alerted to our presence clearly from the way that you were dancing. That changed when you went to spin around and caught the sight of both Steve and I standing in the walkway. Your eyes went wide and you yelled “Friday! Turn off the music please!”

“Hey Y/N-” Steve was cut off from your launching yourself at him in to a hug.

“Oh my god! I missed you so much! I thought you weren’t due back for another week!” you pull back and see that Steve had brought someone with him. “Oh and  you must be James. or Bucky, or whatever you want me to call you. I’m so excited to meet you Steve has told me so much!” You exclaim extending your hand out to me. I, however, was still processing the fact that you were 1) the most beautiful person that I have ever met and 2) you were what? Excited to meet me? Did you have no clue who I am- or what I have done?

Therefore all I could do was stare at her. I hear a throat clear next to me and look at Steve.

“Bucky this is Y/N. Y/N this is Bucky. Y/N is the newest addition to the team besides you and has been here for about 3 years and is also supposed to be on a solo mission for another 2 weeks.”

“Ya well I’m amazing at my job and he told me everything after a week.” you said with a smile.

“Good work and still humble as always.” Steve said as you turned bat to what you were doing.

“I’m making pancakes if you guys want some.” you say looking back at Bucky giving him a dazzling smile. I think to myself maybe this could be a new beginning.

Would you give me, give me, give me, give me a boost

A boost over heaven’s fate, yeah

Give me a boost over heaven's gate

I’m gonna need a boost

‘Cause everything else is a substitute for you love

Give me a boost over heaven’s gate

I didn’t see him. I don't know how it happened but I didn’t see the man who shot me but he is about to die in about 2 seconds.

“We got what we needed. Everyone head back to the jet.” Says Steve in my ear piece.

“That might take a while.” I say gruffly.

“Why?” I hear your voice over the ear piece.

“I’m hit and taking heavy fire.” I say into the coms.

“Where are you?” you ask.

“The back side of the building.” I say as a take down another opponent.

“I’m on my way.” you say.

“No you are not you need to get to the jet.” I argue and then completely regretted it.

“James Buchanan Barnes. I have told you once before, and I will tell you again. I’m very good at my job so therefore I’m not some newbie who needs their hand held or be told what to do. You can either get on board with that and let me come help you or choose to be an asshole and never go on that date you have yet to ask me on.”

At that I stopped dead in my tacks. “W-What do you m-mean?”

“Oh come on James. I’m a fucking spy, a super-spy at that. I know that you like me, and for the record I like you too.”

“Is this really the best time for you to be confessing your undying love for each other?” Steve’s voice came over the radio.  

“Better now then never I suppose.” I hear behind me. I turn and see you with your batons in hand. There is a smudge of dirt on your cheek and surrounding your face is fly aways that have came out of your braid from fighting. Even mid-battle you are the most beautiful person that I have ever seen.

I smile at your words “I suppose so.”

I got dreams of my own

But I want to make yours come true

So please come through

Honey please, please come through

These were my favorite nights. The ones where we moved to the compound, away from the city and when it was in the middle of summer so it was warm enough to sleep outside and look at the stars.

We were laying on the roof, you curled into my side using my chest a your own personal pillow. Occasionally your arm would reach across my stomach to the bag of popcorn and take a handful before you asked me another question.

“Sunset or Sunrise?” You ask.

“Sunrise. Favorite song?”

“Right now or all time?”

“Both.”

“Right now it’s Blow Your Mind by Dua Lipa and all time is Today by the Smashing Pumpkins. Coffee or Tea?”

“Both.

“You can’t say both! Choose one.” you laugh and I smile because it's the greatest sound in the world.

“Fine, coffee.” It was in this moment that I knew my heart will always belong to you and know one else. Hell, i have always known this deep down, but lying here with you under the stars and the moon there is absolutely no denying it. “Marry me?”

I heard you suck in your breath and you sat up to look me in the eyes. Those beautiful y/e/c staring back into mine. “James are you sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my very long lifetime doll. You are everything to me and I want to live the rest of my life with you. I want to give you everything that you dream of because you are everything that I never thought to dream of. I didn’t think after everything that I have done I could deserve this, deserve you. You have pushed me to become a better person and a better man. To learn to shine a light on the darkest parts of myself and you pushed my to learn how to love again. I don’t know if I would have made it this far without your kindness and loving heart constantly encouraging me to help myself. So please doll, marry me.” i say with tears streaming down my face that mirrored your own. You raise your hand and put it on the side of my face, wiping away a tear. “Of course Jamie. You are the light of my life.”  With that you lean in a press a kiss to my lips, smiling because of the happiness you felt in that moment. 

Give me a boost over heaven’s gate, yeah

Give me a boost over heaven’s gate

I’m gonna need a boost

‘Cause everything is a substitute for your love

Give me a boost over heaven’s gate

You’re the one habit I just can’t kick

Tag list:  @aenna-4  

#Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader angst #reader insert #bucky barnes fanficiton #marvel #captain america