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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)

Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.

It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.

... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.

“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.

“He was just being nice.”

“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”

I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.

“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.

Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”

“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.

“Stop! It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not.”

Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.

“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.

I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.

Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.

“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”

But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.

“Okay – good.”

My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.

“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”

The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.

“You said you didn’t mind!”

In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”

When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.

As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.

“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.

“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.

The man beside him, however, was quick to question.

“Who’s this?”

As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.

“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.

“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.

I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.

“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”

“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.

There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.

“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.

Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.

“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”

With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.

“Ooh, is there a party?”

Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.

“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”

And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”

My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.

“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”

His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.

“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.

But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.

“Uhh...”

“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”

Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).

“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.

The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.

Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”

It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.

“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I’m very motivated?”

Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”

I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.

“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.

Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”

But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.

I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.

With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”

Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.

Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.

Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.

Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.

“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.

I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.

“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”

I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.

“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”

Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.

Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”

“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”

The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.

“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.

Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”

It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.

I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.

Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.

“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”

Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.

“Double promise. Promise squared.”

“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”

I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.

“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”

I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.

“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”

“For what?” he also said through laughter.

“I— don’t know.”

Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.

Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”

So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.

Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.

I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.

——————————————————

There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.

That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.

No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.

“So... Bunny.”

“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.

“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.

“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

But that time, it was me who issued the warning.

“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”

“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”

The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.

Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”

“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.

“She’s a virgin.”

Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.

“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.

But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”

It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.

“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”

“Cut it out.”

Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”

“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”

The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.

“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”

“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”

“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”

I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.

But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.

A fucking tease.

“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.

“Are you done?”

As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.

“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”

I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.

“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.

“Goodnight!”

Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.

But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.

Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.

As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.

Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.

“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”

I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.

It was a set of pictures.

Pictures of her.

“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”

How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.

I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.

They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.

“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”

As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.

I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.

But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.

But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.

Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.

Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.

I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.

That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.

I wanted it. I wanted her.

My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.

If I stole it from her, would it be mine?

Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?

If I ruined her, would she be mine?

I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.

She would be mine.

That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.

She would be mine.

The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.

She was already mine.

——————————————————

| Part Four |

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pinkysfaultorbrainsfault · 4 years

Text

animaniacs - s1e44: the world can wait

episode summary: brain puts off his plan of taking over the world so he can try to pick up a girl mouse he met and instantly fell in love with for some reason.

there’s no plan in this episode, but it’s funny, so it goes here anyway.

the rundown:

we open with pinky bothering brain about how they’re going to take over the world tonight. his initial plan is to “trap them in super sticky chewing gum”, which i’m not entirely convinced by, but as we learn later pinky kind of has a knack for this sort of thing, so i’m willing to go with it if they are.

but no! apparently not. pinky’s next suggestion is “how about we wrestle the president?” before suplexing himself. shame this episode was made in the 90s, huh. keep that energy for the 2020 reboot please, pinky.

zort.

yet another refusal has pinky worried. as he questions “but gee, brain, we are going to take over the world, aren’t we?” brain replies with the unthinkable.

“not tonight, pinky. the world can wait.”

“egad, brain. are you feeling alright?”

turns out that brain is putting off his plans for world conquest for more noble, heterosexual persuits - namely, a girl mouse who lives in a cage on the opposite shelf. pinky finds the prospect of brain being into anyone completely fucking hilarious, apparently, and makes fun of him in the background as brain witters on about his new waifu.

“she is of simple folk, fair and true.” “you mean she’s stupid?” “a bit.” mean. pinky keeps negging brain about it until he gets bonked on the head for his troubles, and then brain puts on a fancy jacket and drags pinky off to be his wingman.

isn’t he cute?

but anyway, here comes billie. apparently she lives in this sparse, empty cage by herself, which you’re really not supposed to do with female mice. they need companions otherwise they get lonely and actually you’re not supposed to keep male mice together either.....

.............................................................................................

everyone in this show is trans.

ok that was half a joke. undeterred, brain goes off to harass his Fair Damsel.

“i, my lady, am the brain,” he says, introducing himself without his fedora, for a change. “we met together in the maze.”

“oh yeah. i remember you. egghead.” what the fuck is her accent?? new york?? i’m genuinely lost. this is not a voice normal people have.

pinky thinks this is hilarious, and agrees enthustically that brain is, in fact, Egg Head, so brain bonks him over the head with a baseball bat he found somewhere. undeterred, he moves onto presenting billie with a “precious, simple gift.”

“it’s an actual working mockup of the betatron particle accelerator.”

that’s... cute, brain. not entirely sure what she’s going to do with a particle accelerator in her otherwise totally empty cage, but he’s trying! and that’s what matters.

“it kinda looks like a--”

“BIG METAL DONUT.”

HAHAHEHEHAHAHA.

“yeah, like a big metal donut. say, egghead? who’s your friend? he’s funny.”

oh dear.

oh dear. this date has been going for like two minutes and already, brain is getting cucked. still, he introduces pinky, out of politeness.

and then he decides “fuck that” and puts him in the particle accelerator and spins him away.

which is just kind of mean, honestly.

“aw, i like him.” “pinky? but he’s barely verbal.”

“well pardon me, mr egghead, but i happen to like that. goodnight.”

ouch. brain tries to change her mind, and has all of two seconds to do that before pinky bonks him off the shelf.

if you love me let me go, etc.

cut to back in the cage, where pinky is bandaging brain’s head. he must have bonked it on his fall, which is very sad. pinky seems otherwise unharmed, and is bullying brain over how the previous three minutes or so of the short went. “i think she likes you!” he chortles, amidst brain’s protests. haha, narf.

“no, pinky, the fact of the matter is, she likes you.” “but brain, i’ve already got a girlfriend.”

“pinky. you are a mouse. that is a horse.”

still, unconventional taste in partners aside (and how cute it is that he has a little picture of fignewton by their bed!) brain eventually figures out that in order to win billie’s heart, he should ask pinky what he would say to woo her. this obviously goes about as well as one would expect.

ok i wasn’t going to talk about this but when he gets there billie is like “who’s there? pinky? is that you pinky?” and brain makes this face.

“no.”

which i thought was very funny.

billie is less enthused by this particular mouse, until he starts saying some completely nonsensical shit, to which she is instantly on board.

“please, call me eggy. n. narf.”

“now, tell her-- poit-- i like your toenails.”

thanks! i got them from the president.

brain goes above and beyond, also mentioning that her head looks like a “really clean carrot”-- yknow what, i really don’t think these were serious suggestions from pinky. i think he was just being a dick. but it works! billie is swayed.

“i guess i got you pegged all wrong. why don’t you come up here? i like you.”

hee hee.

conclusion:

alas, unfortunately, brain never gets the opportunity to get pegged correctly, this time. hoo hoo. at that exact moment a bunch of scientists show up. despite complaining that they’re “going to be late for bowling”, homeboy needs to electrocute a mouse right now, immediately, so he goes ahead and does that.

the boys do their best! unfortunately, they don’t quite get there in time to stop this from happening.

(at this point brain gives off the most unconvincing “oh no, we’re too late” that i have perhaps ever heard, but i don’t blame maurice for that, because i understand it must be hard to make drunk orson welles sound sympathetic. hrrraaarrrgh. french excellence.)

still, he does seem genuinely concerned. “billie, are you alright?”

“eggy?” she asks, on the verge of death. “is that you, eggy?” brain confirms that he is, in fact, Eggy, and she goes in for a hug.

“oh, eggy. i thought the electro-polarity had altered the reticular formation in my medulla oblongata.”

oh no.

“egad, brain,” says pinky, who is bad at helping. “she’s probably even smarter than you.”

oh no indeed.

so.... yeah. turns out she is. she even makes a habit of correcting brain’s formula. as brain has a small breakdown over the fact that he’s been obsessing over that for the past five months... um. actually, that’s like... ~17 years to a mouse, give or take. how old are these guys??? what did acme do to them?

brain makes this face.

and then leaves.

“but brain! oh, so you don’t love her any more just because she’s smarter than you?” you can’t really see it in this screencap, but pinky does look genuinely concerned. good on him for calling out this fuckboy behaviour! absolutely appalling. you’re definitely not getting pegged with that attitude, brain. work on yourself.

“oh, i do love her, pinky. i do. but i must quickly go develop a plan so that we can take over the world.”

“why.”

“because if i don’t, she may beat us to it.”

so, theoretically, the tally stays the same. nothing happened in this episode. there was no plan. it was just brain being straight for seven minutes or so.

brain: 3 pinky: 3 outside influence: 5

but billie also gets a fair few points for not pegging brain while she had the chance, so there’s that.

billie: however many points that is

this has been another

useless review.

#patb #pinky and the brain #a!#animaniacs #i have the next review in the works bc i started it earlier lol #i won't be able to get it out before the stream but! hopefully tomorrow...

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scoutception · 3 years

Text

Never7 -the end of infinity- review

Kotaro Uchikoshi holds the title of being one of the most magnificently insane writers in Japan, which is saying something. He’s most famous for the Zero Escape trilogy, an innovative mix of escape-the-room puzzles and normal visual novel story sequences, and the much more recent AI: The Somnium Files, a more standard, yet equally memorable detective drama, which I actually wrote a full review on right here. Though, all things considered, “famous” would be a bit of an overstatement, as these games are very much cult games, being all but completely ignored in Japan, and not doing fantastic overseas either, with the upside of those who have played them often loving them, including me, with Nine Hours, Nine Persons, Nine Doors and AI: The Somnium Files being some of my favorite games out there. However, before the days of Zero Escape, Uchikoshi got his start working at KID, a now defunct developer most famous for its two visual novel series, those being Memories Off, a series of romance VNs that have unfortunately never seen the light of day outside of Japan, not even through fan translations, and the Infinity series, the brainchild of Uchikoshi and the equally insane Takumi Nakazawa, consisting of Never7, Ever17, Remember11, 12Riven, and Code_18, though, reasonably speaking, only those first three, as the latter two were pretty badly received. Science fiction VNs that are mostly connected by their shared themes, these games laid the groundwork for Zero Escape, and are ironically the exact opposite in terms of popularity, being well received and popular in Japan when released, but almost completely unknown in America even today, for understandable reasons, as only Ever17 was officially released in English, with Never7 and Remember11 only being playable with fan translations, along with just being old. Never7 originally was released in 2000, with Ever17 and Remember11 coming out in 2002 and 2004 respectively. Needless to say, these games have long lost their chance at the spotlight, but my curiosity has driven me to them, and thus, we arrive at today’s topic: the first game in the series, Never7. Note that I played the PSP version, as while the translation was originally made for the PC version, that version is really not recommended, for reasons I’ll detail later in the review. Either way, here it be.

20 year old Makoto Ishihara is an unremarkable college student theoretically majoring in psychology, but in practice has majored in skipping the majority of his classes due to his lack of personal direction. This slacker attitude comes back to bite Makoto when he finds himself forcibly signed up for the strange “Seminar Camp”, set on a faraway island and lasting from April 1st to April 7th, with no apparent purpose other than to strengthen the bonds between the members of the group. The other members of Makoto’s group are Yuka Kawashima, a friendly, outgoing girl who serves as the group’s leader, Haruka Higuchi, a quiet, mysterious honor student, and Okuhiko Iida, an infamous playboy who also happens to be heir to the Iida Financial Group. During their week on the island, the group also befriends three others unrelated to the camp: Saki Asakura, an old friend of Yuka’s who comes from a rich family, Kurumi Morino, an energetic and cheerful girl, and her older sister Izumi Morino, the temporary manager of the cafe Lunabeach, whose motherly nature quickly gives her a place as the mediator of the group.

Unfortunately, this otherwise relaxing stay proves to have its own share of problems, mostly within the group. Yuka, despite being the leader, is rather reckless, with a tendency to get unreasonably drunk every chance she gets. Haruka avoids interaction to the point of seeming cold, and insists, among other things, that she “has no heart”. Okuhiko is a shallow jerk who instantly takes a disliking to Makoto, and has a fixation on Haruka that he takes to controlling levels, despite her clear disinterest. Saki, though perfectly affable in group settings, is unnecessarily difficult, stubborn, and harsh in one on one conversation, with a tendency to lash out at others when upset. Kurumi is extremely childish, despite being 17 years old, and even the otherwise dependable Izumi is more than a bit scatterbrained and secretive. As both bonds and tensions form within the group over the week, Makoto is faced with something far more concerning: mysterious premonitions of near future events that always turn out to be correct, coupled with a strange dream which seems to predict the death of someone on the 6th while holding a strange bell, with him soon finding said bell washed up on the beach one night.

It’s pretty much impossible to talk about this game without giving away that it is much more than a simple romance VN, despite it being the big twist of the game when it was first released. Unfortunately, the twists of the game mostly rely on being a surprise, and aren’t very developed otherwise, for the most part, and the story is mostly focused on romance. Considering how elaborate Uchikoshi’s later games are, this is absolutely the biggest reason why Never7 remains so obscure even by Infinity’s standards, considering that Uchikoshi fans are pretty much the only ones who’d be interested in this game nowadays, and knowing that this game isn’t even close to the same level of complexity as his more famous games is the biggest thing that has to be kept in mind when considering anything about it.

The game consists of a beginning common route, 5 routes for Yuka, Haruka, Saki, Kurumi, and Izumi, and the two Curé routes: Izumi Curé, the final route, which takes the plot in a vastly different direction, and serves to completely supplant Izumi’s original route as well, as it’s rather infamously disappointing, and Yuka Curé, a retelling of Yuka’s route from her own perspective. While Yuka Curé is an extra accessed outside of the main game, the rest are accessed in pretty typical VN fashion: the game starts with a common route that serves to introduce the characters, setting, and a few plot elements, before eventually diverging into one of several character specific routes depending on your choices within the common route, namely building up affection points with the characters, and seeing specific, important scenes concerning them. Having enough points and having all requisite plot flags will lock you into that character’s route, with the game otherwise defaulting to Yuka’s route. Not anything atypical of the genre here.

For the most part, this system is fairly forgiving, and works fine. It’s usually pretty easy to figure out what choices actually affect affection, whether from the options themselves, or the reactions of the characters, and the amount of points needed is fairly lenient for each. There’s also a scene near the end common route that has several variations based on which character you have the most affection with, once again defaulting to Yuka if you don’t have sufficient points with any of the others, allowing you an easy way to figure out if you’re on the right path. That said, there’s still definitely frustrations it can cause. While you technically have plenty of freedom to choose what route to pursue on your first playthrough, only Yuka and Haruka’s routes are on the easier side, with Saki’s route being difficult to navigate to and through due to her contrarian nature, with most of the options that involve angering her being the ones to raise affection, and Kurumi’s route forcing you to branch off to a scene involving Izumi instead of her when given the option. Izumi’s routes are also very glaringly not available at first, with options related to her in the common route slowly being unlocked with each route completed instead. While it is actually pretty neat to witness and does make sense, as Izumi’s normal route is not at all serious, and the Curé route is absolutely meant to be saved for last, as far as the serious routes go, it’s still kinda awkward once you notice it, and accessing them carries its own frustration, namely pulling the reverse of the Kurumi route situation and needing to go with Kurumi instead of Izumi at the same point.

Each route also contains multiple endings, with Yuka’s, Haruka’s, Saki’s, and Kurumi’s routes having one bad and one good ending, Izumi’s routes having two bad endings and one good ending each, and Yuka Curé having one bad and two good endings, all of which depend on certain important decisions within the routes, typically at the climax, with specific steps needing to be taken to achieve the good endings, with everything else leading to the bad endings. It’s actually pretty easy to figure out what’s needed for the good endings most of the time, and even if you screw up, it doesn’t take long to fix your mistake, as the game autosaves at the start of every scene and everytime a decision is available. That said, even this has a few frustrating parts. Kurumi’s ending is a lot easier to screw up than the others, and the Haruka, Saki, and Izumi Curé routes keep the affection mechanic, whereas the others forego it once locked into, forcing you to continue gaining points to reach a certain minimum by the climax, or you’re automatically locked into the bad endings. While it’s still pretty easy to do with Haruka and Izumi, to the point you may gain enough points just from the common route, Saki’s route once again causes the most issue with this mechanic, with the choices tending to be just as confusing as in the common route, which is especially bad if you only barely scraped into her route in the first place. As one last note on the affection mechanic, Yuka and Saki’s routes have scenes and CGs that can only be viewed with certain amounts of affection, with Yuka’s needing a rather high amount that forces you to get as many as possible, and Saki’s rather confusing needing less than a certain high amount, based on my testing. The game barely gives any indication of this, outside of showing scenes in their routes missing in the playing log.

As far as length goes, this isn’t exactly Clannad or Grisaia; while not short, it’s only about average length for a VN. Both the common route and the character routes go by pretty quickly, with only Izumi Curé being noticeably lengthy. The bigger plot elements don’t have much focus at all before the character routes kick in, and only the Izumi Curé and Yuka routes place any great focus on them, which can leave it feeling pretty half baked overall. Additionally, the two Curé routes weren’t even in the original version of the game, which released for the PS1 as Infinity, and thus the elements within Izumi Curé can feel a bit jarring compared to the rest of the game. Altogether, this gives the impression of a game that’s, at best, just average, and only notable as a prototype for the later games in the series. However, while I’m not going to argue against how unappealing Never7′s basic nature can be in comparison to Ever17 or Zero Escape, I actually ended up liking it quite a bit, probably a good deal more than average, and feel it does overall do more things right than wrong.

The cast of characters is by far the best part of Never7. While Makoto is a very basic and forgettable protagonist, and Okuhiko only really exists to be the butt of jokes, though even he gets a couple of moments of depth, everyone else is likeable and complex in their own ways. Yuka, though having a lot of traits that could just easily make her irritating, instead manages to be surprisingly charming. Saki is genuinely sympathetic despite the many low points she has, and the parts of the story that focus on her are generally some of the best parts of the game. My favorite character by far is Haruka, who has, in my opinion, the best route in the game, with many memorable and tender moments as early as the common route, and very well done character development which makes it flow better than a good deal of the other routes, and has a tragic element that stands out even when most of the rest of the cast does as well, which leads to many of the more emotional moments of the game. Haruka’s scenes are another consistent highlight of the writing, and she is overall a surprisingly memorable character among the cast, in my opinion.

Speaking of routes, they’re definitely the other main highlight of the writing. While the structure of the plot means that they can feel a bit samey at times, they do do a good job of developing their respective characters, and do have their own little twists along the way to make them stand out. Additionally, unlike some romance VNs, the rest doesn’t simply vanish outside of their own routes. As the relationships between the cast are important parts of their characters, each character plays a role of some importance in at least one route each, which helps keep focus on each character. It’s not quite perfectly balanced, though; Saki is very noticeably screwed for screentime, only playing a noticeable role in Yuka’s route, and having no presence in any other route besides her own. This also rather bizarrely applies to Yuka herself to a lesser degree, despite being the most blatantly advertised of the characters, while Haruka and Izumi tend to have more of the focus between routes.

Aside from the aforementioned Haruka route, some of my other favorite routes would be Saki’s route, for its surprisingly tense atmosphere and focus on the tensions within the group giving it a very different feel from most of the other routes, Yuka Curé, as Yuka’s perspective is refreshingly different from Makoto’s and gives her quite a bit more depth, while having a fair few potential divergences from the normal Yuka route, along with giving Saki a very prominent supporting role, and Izumi Curé, for giving the biggest taste of the kind of direction future games would go. The plot elements revealed within are quite interesting, and force you to take a whole different perspective when considering the rest of the game up to this point, and ends with a tasteful amount of ambiguity that, among other things, reasonably lets you decide just which of the routes you think is “real”, despite the seemingly decisive focus and finality it has. Overall, I actually ended up quite a bit more attached to this cast than I was expecting, and while it wasn’t even close to getting to me like, say, Steins;Gate or AI: The Somnium Files, there’s a few decently emotional moments throughout, particularly on the Yuka, Haruka, and Izumi Curé routes.

But despite the dark or depressing moments Never7 can get into, in the end, it’s a lighthearted and optimistic game, and all things considered, that’s for the best for it. It’s not trying to be a dark dramatic story, just a relaxing and pleasant experience with a few twists to it, and after going through gruesome experiences like Zero Escape and Chaos;Child, I honestly kinda appreciate that.

As far as the game’s more technical aspects go, the characters and art were done by Yuna Kagesaki, best known for the manga Chibi Vampire/Karin. While the artstyle isn’t anything special, visually, the game is actually quite good looking overall. The character designs all look quite good, and the sprites and CGs are also well made, with the sprites notably giving all the characters many different poses, which make them quite distinct, even if a few tend to make the characters in question look a bit odd. While the PSP’s lower resolution and smaller screen means the sprites and backgrounds don’t look as good as the PC version, and that entire CGs and sprites can’t fit on the screen, it actually looks better than the PC version in places, from visual effects like rain, to the filters placed over the character sprites during sunset and night, to even just the UI. The PC version is extremely bare bones, but the PSP version has plenty of neat little menus and features such as a backlog, a detailed CG gallery that includes promotional artwork along with the art within the game itself, a playing log that includes detailed statistics and allows you to view how many scenes you’ve seen within the game, and how much dialogue you’ve seen within each, a music gallery, and a glossary that helps define terms and concepts within the game. While these aren’t quite special, they are very appreciated all the same, and make the PSP version of Never7 the definitive version. Still, here’s a comparison of the two versions, with the rainbow textbox being exclusive to the PC version.

Never7 also features a soundtrack composed by the great Takeshi Abo, who, along with the rest of the Infinity series, is the composer for the Science Adventure series, i.e. Steins;Gate and Chaos;Child. The original soundtrack, used in the PC version, was, to be honest, a bit rough in places, but the PSP version uses a remixed soundtrack first made for the PS2 port, which is nothing short of fantastic. The soundtrack fits the mood of the game perfectly, being very relaxing or upbeat. Each character’s theme fits them perfectly, and the music always manages to fit the context of each scene, particularly the song Languor, which fits both definitions of the word: pleasantly tired, or oppressively stiff. My favorite tracks have to be Izumi’s warm theme, the rather emotional main theme of the game, Once More, and especially Haruka’s downright beautiful theme. Exclusive to the PSP is a rather neat OP played at the start of the game, and an ED used for the original five routes, performed by the band Asriel, with the Curé routes having different EDs that were composed well before this port. Never7 also features a voice cast of voice actors both new and popular at the time, mostly notably the late Tomoko Kawakami as Yuka, Yuki Matsuoka as both Haruka and Kurumi, and Kikuko Inoue as Izumi. Everyone does a pretty decent job, with Yuki Matsuoka particularly managing to make both her characters sound very different. Most of the voice acting is rather compressed, even if it still sounds okay, but the voice acting in the Izumi Curé route is uncompressed, which, while a bit jarring when compared to the original voice acting, certainly sounds much better.

Overall, whether or not I would recommend Never7 heavily depends. If you want a crazier, much more visibly Uchikoshi experience, a much deeper kind of romance game like Clannad, or even just an especially emotional experience, you’re not likely to be impressed, and it’s not recommended in that case. However, the lighthearted nature of the game, average length, and likeable cast make for an experience that is actually quite enjoyable in its own right. If you can keep your expectations reasonable and lowered and just take it as it is, you’ll likely find a fun, easily accessible kind of experience, with some great art, beautiful music, and more than a few distinctive moments in its own right that I would genuinely recommend giving a fair try if you care for visual novels at all.

With that, more words than likely anyone has spoken in defense of this game, I’m off to take another dive into visual novel hell, soon including this game’s far more famous sequel, Ever17. Till next time. -Scout

#visual novel #kotaro uchikoshi #game review #playstation portable #long post

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the-fiction-witch · 4 years

Text

Rocket Science

MOVIE: MAZE RUNNER AU COUPLE: NEWT X READER RATING: SMUTISH

I sat on the grass under the tree on the campus green, the little pathway littered with people, Every so often that really annoying business major rides around on his mountain bike with his skin tight cycling gear. The campus bins overflowing with Doritos packets, cigarettes ends and monster cans, the green had others, a group of people in a circle who all smelt of weed, a couple heavily making out on the little bench looking as if they where about to have sex. There where more but I didn't pay much attention to them as I sat under the one little tree leaning on my bag as I watched the clouds "You should be studying" a voice told me I looked over to the source of the noise and it was 'Newt' his real name unknown to me it's just what I had always kinda known him as he stood over me leaning on the tree. his skinny black jeans tight to his slender body, his belt on as tight as it could go, his grey long sleeve shirt rolled to his elbows, his blue t-shirt over it with some stupid science pun on I never got it even if he's explained it to me a million times his bag draped over his shoulder covered In a million pop culture badges, a couple text books and a grey folder in his hand resting a little on his hip. His smug face smiled at me his brown eyes looking at me sweetly from under the mess of his mop of blonde and brown hair as well as the thick frames of his black glasses "Why?" I asked as he put his bag down and sat beside me with his books "You 'ave a test on Monday little lady" he reminds "I know... You've been reminding me every fucking day since it went on the board" I complained getting my resuable cup from my bag sipping the ice juice I got from the campus coffee shop having a sip "I'm just trying to 'elp Y/n" he sighed reading his text book "I know you are Newt" I smiled to him, and I noticed a dusting of pink blush under his glasses as I did he coughed and returned his focus to his books "What are you reading?" I laughed "Gravitational feild densities and it's affecting of solid and semi solid Matter" he answered "Hu?" I asked "Come on Y/n it's not rocket science" he joked "Yes it is" I argue "No it isn't" he laughs "Your textbook literally says rocket science" I complained "No it doesn't, it's applied science and mathmatics for theoretical and practice space exploration" he explained "Rocket science" I correct "I'll let you call it rocket science if you actually study" he says so I sighed getting my book and reading a little "good, you don't want to fail Y/n" "I'm not going to fail Newt, exams only five percent of the course the rest is work" I explain "Five percent is five percent" he says "get an A it's one thing less to worry about" he says "You going to be studying all night?" I asked "Course I am, I 'ave a practical unit to build by next month" he says "Ooohh can I put glitter stickers on your rocket ship?" I asked and he glared at me "what?" "It's not a rocket ship!' he whines "it's a prototype, miniature radio controlled probe unit" he explained "Can I put stickers on it?' I asked "Maybe" he sighed "...if you 'ave those cool 3d dinosaurs" he muttered "but I don't need to even think about design now, I'm still writing out the programs and the equations," he explained "are you going to be studying tonight?" "Not tonight going out with Mia" I answered "Again? Y/n you 'ave to study, I really don't think you should go out drinking with Mia tonight" he says "It's just one night Newt I'll be fine" "It's not one night, it's all of this afternoon, all night and most of tomorrow when your 'ungover" he says "exam on Monday Y/n, in two days that you 'ave not studied for at all" "I'll be fine don't worry about me, worry about your toy Rocket ship" I laughed. I sat for a while doing some reading for class watching the sun move across the blue sky until I felt fingers on my hand like he was trying to hold my hand "Newt what are you doing?' I asked "Ohh uhh nothing, just moving my 'and" he blushed his face turning red "I uhh I didn't even know your 'and was there Y/n" he blushed "Course you didn't" I laughed getting my stuff "I'm off, got to get ready for the party, see you soon Newt" I smiled throwing my bag on my shoulder and tussling his messy hair so it was all out of place before I headed off to my room.

As soon as I got in I threw my bag on my bed my roommate was out already she left a note she was at her boyfriend's so I sorted my stuff and went for a shower I went and locked myself in a little cubicle starting to peal off my clothes kinda listening to the other conversations in the room "You're kidding me..." "No.." "You have got to be joking" "No I told you I saw them" "Ughhh really Archie Mays with Jenny brace face... As if" "They where, in the library" "Eeww you where in the library?" "Max said he was going so I had to go with him, he keeps going I wanted to make sure there wasn't another girl" "He was probably just be Buttering her up for next week's answer keys" "Hell yeah" "I saw a cute on nerd today" "Ohh spill who..." "Y/n Y/L/N with that gross little boy ohh whats his name again?" I peeked up a little hearing my name turning off my shower to listen closer "Newt something, I don't know everyone just calls him rocket boy" I laughed a little they where serious me and Newt? "Eww what the hell is Y/n doing with rocket boy, she can do way better" "Probably a sympathy, hell he'd probably have to pay her to finally take his virginity!" I sighed finishing up my shower, poor Newt they didn't have to be so mean to him, As soon as I was done I went back to my room and began getting dressed and doing my hair and make up to go out tonight, as soon as I was done I went down to meet Mia.

I don't remember much of the actual party I just remember Mia handing me shots of God only knows what and next I remember I was vomiting in the potted plant by the front door while laying on the grass of the house we where at. I got up and cleaned up a little my head still a mad drunk mess, as I wondered back in to find Mia as she was my ride back to the dorm, but as I did I felt someone take a Chuck out my arse "Hey... What are you doing?" I asked "Sorry, it looked so beautiful I thought I'd pinch it to see if I was dreaming?" He smirked he was tall and muscular with a styled qiff of brown hair "Whatever dude" I laughed "Hey, you wanna go somewhere a little quieter?" He asked grabbing my hand, I wasn't thinking so I just nodded he put his drink down and dragged me upstairs where most people where laying around drunk or where in rooms and closets having sex, he dragged me though to door he unlocked before pulling me inside with him, I sat in the bed as he shut the door again and sat beside me "So come on hot stuff how about we have a little fun up here?" He smirked grabbing my butt again pulling me onto his lap, I couldn't deny in my drunken state the feeling of him under me was kinda getting me going a little he opened a beer can and almost forced me to drink it all before forcing his tongue down my throat I kissed back a little my intoxication numbing my common sense he slipped his hand up my dress and began to play with me though my thin underwear I giggled as he kissed down my neck I grabbed another beer opening it and offering it to him he happily drank it all and returned to our kisses, this went on a while drinking and feeling each other up with a little foreplay here and there so much my drunk mess and horny mess had combined leaving me drunk and a little desperate he smirked finishing his beer but before he could go back to kissing me he threw up all over the floor pushing me off him and almost instantly passing out on the floor. I sighed getting up with my bag and heading back down, by now everyone was drunk or heading home, I sighed I didn't wanna go home I was all rilled up and I wanted to fool around with someone and my roommate would be back by now so I couldn't go to.my room and do anything. I wondered the dark pathways a while in my drunken state trying to find my way back to the dorm.

I got to the dorms and as I did my brain hatched a little idea, I headed to the boys dorm building, I wondered in my dizy state down the blue corridors to the little door I often visit right at the end of the building, I knocked two or three times having a lean on the door to keep myself up. No answer. I knocked again a little louder this time and I heard movement within, the door opened to Newt stood in his little blue striped boxer shorts and his long superhero shirt his hair a mess and he was just slipping his glasses on he grimisted as he saw me a little confused "Y/n?" He asked his voice gruff and raspy "Hi Newt" I giggled "Y/n... What are you doing 'ere?" He asked "I wanted to visit" I giggled "... It's two fourteen in the morning Y/n" he sighed "come in" he sighed Letting me into his room and he shut the door behind me "I'll get you some water, I can smell the beer" he sighed getting a glass form his table and heading out again so I smiled and undid my little dress leaving me in just my underwear and bra I heard the door open again but I playfully just kept looking at his notes for his rocket on the table "am I dreaming?" He asked "No why?" I asked turning to see him blushing bright red and obvious hard on in his shorts "You normally only get like that when I'm dreaming" he says "Your not dreaming Newt" I giggled turning and wrapping my arms around his neck "'ow drunk are you?" He laughs "'ere drink, you'll feel better Y/n" he smiled offering the glass so I drank it all "there better now?" He asks and I nodded "you get some rest okay" he says lifting me up like a princess and tucking me into his bed I giggled as he did kneeling on the floor to make sure I was cosy "Where will you sleep?' I asked playfully "I'll sleep on the floor don't worry about me" he says "I but I'll get cold and lonely" I whine He laughs and got a Blanket from under his bed tucking it around me too and then a little plush duck tucking it under my arm "There now your warm, and you 'ave a little friend to keep you company' he says "Don't I get a goodnight kiss Newt?' I whine "You... You really want me to kiss you?" He asked and I nodded "really?" He asked a little worried "Kiss me Newt" I giggled "Okay" He blushed and moved giving my lips a gentle sweet kiss I kissed back often pulling him closer till he pulled away "whoa..." "Come on Newt" I whine moving to offer him space on the little single bed "You really want to?" He asks and I nodded "okay" he smiled crawling in bed with me and kissing me again "umm Y/n..."

I woke violently to a loud alarm. "The fuck?" I questioned "who the fuck has an alarm on a Saturday!" I groan luckily it shut up giving my head a moment to think. I got so drunk Last night. I don't remember much after getting to the party and as usual getting abandoned by Mia, I struggled to recall much else. Where the hell am I? It's not my room. Oh fuck I must have hooked up with some guy from the party last night. Wait... Why does this room look so familiar? I heard two gentle taps on the door and I sat up a little my head killing me to do so "Y/n? Are you up yet?" A familiar voice asked "Uhhh yeah" I answered trying to think what the hell happened last night, the door opened with a ear bleeding creak revealing Newt in the door way "Morning" he smiled "Morning?" I said a little lost as he shut the door and sat on the bed with me and it clicked. Newt's here when I wake up. I'm in Newt's room. I fucked Newt Last night!! I didn't know how to feel, or what to think, doesn't help I hardly remember much about it. "I got you ice cream" he says "What?' I asked a little confused what the hell he said "I got you ice cream" he says offering me a little come with some pink ice cream "it's strawberry... Your favourite" he clarified "Why?" I asked "I wanted to get you breakfast but all they 'ad was toast or shreddies this morning" he says "so I popped to the little ice cream cart guy who sits by the river, got you breakfast ice cream" he says I smiled a little and took it, Of all the people I've drunkenly slept with hell even soberly slept with that's like the nicest thing someone's done for.me the next morning, I gave it a little lick and it was delicious and I noticed he had one too a little chocolate one "Thanks Newt" I smiled "Your welcome, plus it might sober you up a little" he laughs "I'm sober, I'm hung over" I sighed having more ice cream "Do you... Remember what 'appened last night?" "Bits of it" "Do you remember what we did last night?" He asked "Do you?" I asked "Ohh I remember everything Y/n" he says "I was completely sober" "Ahh... Fuck" I sighed "Was I that bad?" "Honestly Newt I don't remember" "It'll come back in a while" "I know, I should get back" "It's okay, you can stay ‘ere if you want" "What about your roommate?" I asked "’e's visiting his family" he says

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years

Text

Theoretical Knowledge

“Remember kids,” you say sitting on the desk, feet folded as you cradle a cup of coffee, “A theory is JUST a framework for understanding. So. As we discuss Marxist, Feminist, and Queer Theories, no. I am not telling you that you HAVE to use only those theories and you HAVE to see the world that way. So please. Please keep the tweetstorms to a minimum in class. Just remember. If you don’t understand the theories, you can’t argue against them effectively.”

You smile and set your coffee cup down. “That said, Tuesday, we’ll be starting with Feminist Theory. Please read the chapter before class and come prepared to engage in our preliminary discussion.”

College kids, mostly freshmen start to trickle out, gathering their things and clustering up a few at a time. You alternately loved and hated teaching lower-level courses. The amount of handholding that they needed to be housebroken for their upper-level courses got a little more astounding every semester but... Still. There was something lovely about helping them build a solid foundation for the rest of their careers.

You pause to answer a few questions. Careful to help them find the correct information. People for the next class were queuing up just beyond your periphery and you direct the stragglers to you office hours. You can feel the grumpy glare of Barnes, the mathematics professor and you cringe internally. You were willing to bet that you were going to have a shitty email waiting on you this evening. Some tripe about respecting other people’s time. Like it was your fault they’d shoehorned your 100 level classes into the Mathematics building. It was all the way across campus and there wasn’t decent coffee to be found anywhere on any floor. It was a miserable utilitarian clusterfuck of a building. Still. On some level it was super fun to get under his skin. The grump ass.

But, you were a good girl. You ignored his impatient harrumphs and tried not to glare at him when he slammed his stuff down and startled you. You erased the board carefully and quietly gathered your things as he sent an attendance sheet around the room, starting his droning on about Proofs or whatever the fuck. You even smiled, just a little when you caught his eye.

Numbers left you cold.

They reminded you of sitting on the floor in the hallway. Flecks of mica winking mockingly at you as you try to finish the times table drill through the tremors in your hands and the tears that are threatening to spill.

They reminded you of desperation. Frantically searching couch cushions for change. Just 80 cents so that you could at least get some fries at lunch. You’’re sick. Too sick to go to school but you can’t miss Algebra and there’s no food in the house.

Numbers are an immutable fact. You can’t change them. No amount of new information will change that 2+2 is 4. Or change the fact that when you run the numbers, you come up wanting. So you try, very hard not to think about how irritating Barnes is. How you hate the aloofness in his face and how badly you’d like to see him smile to see if it made his eyes look less... Less frozen.

As you strode across campus, anxious to get out of the cutting wind and stinging snow, back to your warm office and good coffee. Back on what felt like Terra Firma where you could discuss Russian Literature, and Freud’s Bullshit, and witchcraft, and stupid tv. Things you understood. Things you’d studied just for the sake of knowing. Things that had lead you here. You pushed the thoughts of Professor James Barnes out of your mind. He was as he was, and with any luck, it would only be for a semester that your existence would cause him any more irritation. Still. As you unlocked your door and settled behind your desk... There had to be something to be done about him. Something to chill him out just a little bit. You were just considering texting your usual gang of miscreants and rogue academics. You weren’t sure if it was for a war council or just for a drink. But you were saved having to figure it out when a familiar red head hurled herself dramatically across your desk.

“Please. I’m dying. Tinder sucks. Can we please. Please. Pretty fucking please go out. I miss out,” she says.

“Tasha,” you laugh, petting her hair absently, not looking up from your email, but pausing long enough to pat her hair, “You’re the one that said we couldn’t go out anymore.”

“And I was wrong. So. Very Wrong.”

“Well I’m not opposed but you know that if we don’t invite the boys they’ll be sad.”

“Tap room?”

“Sounds great,” you say absently, glaring at the missive that had just popped up.

Natasha arranged herself in a more dignified position in you guest chair and helped herself to a coffee and a snack, “Your face is making a face,” she frowns.

“It’s just my best Buddy over in the Mathematics department,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Barnes right?” she says taking a sip of coffee.

You nod and turn the screen so she can read it.

You watch her eyes scan the monitor and watch the frown lines materialize, “What the fuck. Like dude. It’s just flavored coffee.”

“Right?”

“Control freak.”

“For fucking real. Like. Ew.”

You roll your eyes and she picks up her phone, “Maybe one of the Boys will know something.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, refusing to respond with apologies.

________

“Bucky!” Steve said leaning on the door frame, “Come on. We’re going out.”

“No thank you,” Bucky said snorting, “I really don’t want to have to carry your drunk ass home. Or listen to you spout Poli-sci bullshit to try and get girls.”

“Well the girls we’re going with are gonna be completely unavailable and uninterested. We’re gonna hit the tap room and watch the game.” Steve frowned at his friend who kept glancing at his laptop like he was waiting on something.

“What did you do, Bucky?” he asked folding his arms.

“Nothing,” he huffed.

“Well if you scowl at your computer any harder it’s gonna burst into flames.”

“I’m just waiting on an email,” he said feeling uncomfortable under Steve’s scrutiny. Squirming slightly in his chair.

“Who are you picking a fight with now?” Steve scolded.

“I’m not.”

“James.”

“I don’t know what she teaches. Some social science thing. But she leaves the lecture hall a mess and reeking of flavored coffee.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” he snapped.

“Missing Yelena and taking it out on some random girl that’s just slightly messy.”

“I’m not.” he said petulantly, “It’s unprofessional to take up my time.”

Steve restrained an eyeroll with effort, “C’mon, ya grumpy fuck. You like Nat fine. And Sam is coming. You can’t just rot in your house and forget how to live forever.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Steve said dismissively, “Pick you up at 7.” And he was gone before Bucky had a chance to formulate a reply.

The truth was complicated. Bucky knew exactly what you taught. The Anthropology of Religion. Folklore. Witchcraft. He’d read everything you had ever written. He followed your Twitter. He just. He didn’t understand you. You had a mind suited for numbers. Logical. Straight forward. Applying science and advocating for greater understanding with reckless abandon.

But all you studied was... Stories. None of it was real. it was smoke and shadows. Illusions. He could only assume you were the same way. An illusion. You were pretty enough. Funny. But there had to be something... broken inside you. Something that you were hiding. Something to be wary of. He just didn’t know how to explain that to Steve.

Numbers he understood. They were what they were regardless. If there was a mistake, he made it. There was no one else to blame with numbers. They sang to him like nothing else did. They spoke to him and whispered secrets.

They made him think of being warm in bed with a book of number puzzles and a cup of hot chocolate on a snow day. The joy of solving a problem he’d been teasing at for days. It was happiness in its purest form. Accomplishment. Order from chaos.

You were chaos to which he saw no order. He couldn’t find a pattern to you. A nimbus of coffee and lost trains of thought. Bucky did not understand you and as he stared at his laptop, waiting for a reply, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

He decidedly didn’t want to. And he couldn’t wait for the semester to be over.

Tags: @lancsnerd @blameitonthecauseway @thorfanficwriter @stevieang @etherealwaifgoddess

#Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #natasha romanoff #Platonic nat x reader #asshole!Bucky #Yelena #bucky x reader #fussy academics

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

Text

I try to make this Tumblr a place for my truest friends, those nice people who read my fanfiction, to get bonus content. I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, on a wave of inspiration. It’s an expansion of an event that came up in Between Tides – Renji breaking his arm back in Inuzuri. This will eventually be a flashback in a larger story, but not for a while, so this is sort of like a preview. (mmmaybe The Heart is a Muscle p6? I am mid-p4 now).

Anyway, here’s a sad story about Inuzuri, dirtbag teens in love, and back-alley surgery. I heard you like flashbacks, dawg, so I put some flashbacks inside of the flashbacks.

Rated T for some gruesome imagery and one cuss. You don’t have to have read any of my previous work, although I guess this contains some mild spoilers for the Heart is a Muscle.

As usual, @diademchiofthetripod made it better for me, particularly the beginning, but if there are parts that are still bad, those are mine.

In later years, when she recalled The Accident (which she usually tried not to), Rukia always thought of herself as the stupid one, but really, she wasn’t doing anything much stupider than usual.

She saw the man’s lead pipe, of course; dull and heavy, hanging by his side. It was a serious weapon in Inuzuri, and he was a large man with a mean face, but he was also sloppy drunk, and his money pouch was beyond tempting, only loosely tied to his belt. She had made it ten paces away, nearly across the street, when she felt the hand clamp onto her arm like an iron band. What she had failed to notice was that her mark had a partner.

Said partner had one hand tight on her neck, the other twisting her own hands painfully behind her back, while the mark tapped the pipe in his hand and slurred out all the things he was going to do to her after he split her head like a melon. Rukia was running numbers, examining possibilities, playing out scenarios for escaping.

It was not looking good.

The man raised the pipe.

Rukia squeezed her eyes shut.

It was the worst sound she had ever heard in her life to date, a meaty crunch, the shattering of bone. Later in her life, there would be worse sounds, the sound of a sword sliding through flesh, the sound of an Arrancar’s Resurrección. But this was bad enough.

Rukia also had a partner, a loud boy with a stupid amount of red hair, who had just interposed himself between Rukia and the lead pipe. Wait. That was incorrect. He was not a boy any more. This was, in fact, the exact moment when she stopped thinking of him as a boy. He towered over almost everyone she knew in this town, this awful place where everyone and thing was stunted and twisted. His shoulders were wide and strong, despite never getting enough to eat. He had not been a boy for a while.

Right now, the air around him boiled. The lead pipe was bent ridiculously over his forearm. Rukia could not see her rescuer’s face, only his broad back, and past his shoulder, the wide eyes of the man with the leadpipe. Then, Renji growled out what the terrified man could do with himself, and clocked him in the face with a left cross before whirling on Rukia’s captor.

The partner was startled by the arrival of this flame-haired monster, and Rukia slipped his grip, kicked the man in the nards, and beat it. She was not abandoning her partner, she would never. This was standard protocol. They had stayed alive in this brutish place for over eight years by being small and quiet and very, very quick. They would need some new strategies, Rukia, realized, because Renji was no longer small and quiet. He was still quick though, she could hear his heavy footfalls behind her, feel his presence in her wake in a way that, as far as she knew, only the two of them could do. She was glad he had stuck to the old standard operating procedures, too, even though he now very well qualified as one of the brute class.

She ducked between some decrepit buildings, under some hanging laundry, around the stench of the tanner’s, and skidded to a halt in a dank alley illuminated by a thin shaft of dirty sunlight.

For a long moment, she breathed in and out, watching the dust motes hanging in the air, afraid to turn around.

“Rukia… are… are you alright?” Renji panted behind her.

She slowly turned. He was cradling his right arm in his left.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Let me see it.”

She should have called him an idiot, a moron. Could he not find a weapon, a stick, anything, rather than his own precious body to put between her and certain death?

“It doesn’t look all that bad,” he admitted, experimentally holding it out for examination.

It looked terrible. It should have been a bruised lump of blood and pulp, but instead, it just looked wrong. The bones were not in the places where arm bones should be, nor were they the right shape, but the skin was miraculously unbroken. He could move it around and flex his hand well enough, although this caused things to shift around sickeningly beneath his skin. The entire arm was slowly turning a deep purple.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, it hurts pretty bad.”

“Dammit, Renji,” Rukia glowered at him.

The look in his eyes was sheepish through the pain, and her heart twisted in her chest. Why did she always have to be so impulsive, so stupid? Why?

* * *

Rukia hated taking so much of the food, but she and Renji might need it and Fujimaru didn’t. Mameji was sick again, so Rukia left some for him, though they weren’t sure whether it actually helped. It seemed like he was through the worst of this spell, but she didn’t want to take any chances, as if waking up in Inuzuri every morning didn’t constitute taking a chance.

“Make him stay in bed for at least two days after he seems better,” she ordered Fujimaru, as if he didn’t know this, as if they hadn’t all been through this a dozen times now. “Thank you for staying with him.”

“Whatever,” Fujimaru said glumly, his eyes glued to the mangled mess of Renji’s arm.

Renji was uncharacteristically quiet. They had already had the argument, screaming through the night, and he had lost. Renji was the biggest of them, the strongest. His stoicism meant nothing, the gang depended on him. They had to try to get it fixed.

There was a healer, more of an apothecary, really, who lived up in 76. Seeking medical attention was a valid reason to get a travel pass, but they lacked the finances for the bribe, so they traveled by stealth instead.

Rukia and Renji went up to 77 all the time for thievery purposes. They were too well known in Inuzuri, and also, there was better stuff to steal up there. They didn’t take the others with them, not anymore. One border crossing was a calculated risk, less so when you could use your spiritual pressure to lighten your feet and keep air in your lungs. Two was exponentially more dangerous. When you arrived in Soul Society, they branded a number on your soul with demon magic. The penalty for being caught in a place that didn’t match that number was supposed to be a second death, but the vile souls that passed for law enforcement down here would probably find some much worse things to do to you first. One district away meant safety was only a mad dash for the border to get you back where you belong. Two districts was something else entirely.

Rukia tried not to think about how Renji had made this journey once before, in the middle of the night, with herself, dying, tied to his back. She imagined he didn’t like to think about that much, either. She had been gored by a wild boar, out in the woods, her side ripped open. Renji had stopped the bleeding with his spiritual energy, a feat that he had not been able to reproduce, nor did he wish to, because it hadn’t healed anything, only burned the wound closed. The old apothecary had apparently had to tear her open again, and sew everything back together with needle and thread and his own meager healing abilities, while Renji looked on and held down her convulsing body.

The old man was not a kind man or even a good man. He did not work on charity cases, but he saw a strong young man who could read and write and even do a few figures, so Renji spent the next six weeks working off his debt, collecting payment from deadbeats on top of a little light bookkeeping and writing out prescriptions, while Rukia slowly recovered in the back room.

Renji could have stayed. Rukia was listening at the door when the man offered to get him a work pass. A work pass, the value was immeasurable. “They’ll let you keep the girl with you, if you tell ‘em she’s your wife,” Rukia remembers the apothecary saying, the words burned into her brain, and for a moment, her head swam with possibility. Renji was always trying to gain steady employment, but there was little to be had in Inuzuri. This work was mildly unsavory, but hardly the worst thing they’d ever done. She hadn’t seen much of life in District 76, but surely it had to be miles above 78.

“Thank you,” he had said quietly. “But I got friends depending on me back home.”

“You’re a moron,” the man told him.

Renji never mentioned it to her and she wasn’t about to admit she’d been eavesdropping. She agreed with his decision, it was absolutely the correct one. Still, it sat heavy and dark in the pit of her stomach, the idea of what he had given up, alongside the guilty feeling that some part of her, no matter how briefly, had wanted him to agree to it, especially the part where she got to stay too.

After that, she asked him to teach her to read and write, a crusade he’d given up on after years of her rudely brushing him off. She could still do neither as well as he could, although, she realized with a sick feeling, that it was his right arm that was broken, his writing arm. She hoped she could be as valuable to the old apothecary as Renji had been.

But when they reached the shop, it was run down and in ill-repair. The apothecary, whose name was Kitajima, looked old, very old. One could theoretically live forever in Soul Society, but most souls become worn down eventually, and once the degradation began, the end usually came on quickly.

“Barely have any business these days,” he grumbled. “Don’t need any help.”

Fortunately, for as poorly as the job turned out, Rukia had managed to make off with three silver coins from that asshole with the lead pipe. The apothecary’s rheumy eyes locked on them. “I will take a look,” he agreed.

“As I told you the last time you were here,” the old man growled at Renji as he examined the arm, “You have the demon magic in you. The shinigami use it to cast spells, but also to push their bodies past what is normally possible. Like a fool, you have done this without proper training. You have broken and healed yourself simultaneously, but with no skill, and you have made a hash of it.”

“I wasn’t trying,” Renji pointed out plaintively.

“Can you repair it?” Rukia asked.

“I can rebreak it,” Kitajima replied, addressing Renji only, as though Rukia didn’t even exist, “and set the pieces properly. It will take all your silver. I will need the girl to help. It will be terrible.”

The more powerful painkillers had been sold off long ago, so Kitajima gave Renji some willow bark tea before they started, and optimistically suggested that he would probably pass out very quickly. Rukia had seen Renji take a lot of damage before, and had an awful sense that this cheerful prediction was not to come true.

The things that happened next are best glossed over. But when it was finished, Rukia sat with Renji’s sleeping head in her lap, smoothing his hair back from his sweat-glazed forehead. Kitajima was trying to give her instructions, but her head still spun from the horror of it all.

The old man would not bear the risk of harboring souls outside of their home districts, not this time. As soon as Renji could stand, they needed to leave.

It was likely that Renji would be set upon by fever. Kitajima pressed a few more packets of tea into Rukia’s hand. It might help. If she could not keep the fever down, it would likely kill him.

There was one last thing. The old man took her wrist in one withered claw. “There are ducts in the arm. They are not real. They cannot be seen without the second sight. It is how the demon magic runs through your body, from your heart to your hands. His were injured, possibly ruined. I have fixed his bones, but this cannot be fixed.”

“I understand,” Rukia replied, even though she didn’t, not really. Later, she would see pictures in textbooks, and truly understand what he had lost.

The fever set in even before they left, but the old man’s good will had worn out, and it was nightfall, the best time for going, so they went. Renji’s temperature increased steadily as they moved south, sticking to the treeline, away from where people lived. His eyes were bright and wild, and he spoke of things that didn’t make any sense, a farm, a mother, a pet dog.

Rukia couldn’t decide whether it was better to stop frequently, to give Renji rest and a chance to drink his medicine, or if it was more important to get him home, to a roof and a blanket and most importantly, safety. She compromised by dragging him through the night, his huge bulk leaning more and more heavily on her shoulder, until they crossed the Inuzuri border, where they collapsed together in a pile of dead leaves under a big oak. The sun was coming up, and the bare branches of the tree did little to block its rays, but Renji fell unconscious almost immediately.

Rukia rested, but she did not allow herself to sleep. Renji was burning up. Maybe the sleep would help, maybe it wouldn’t. She wanted to bathe his forehead, but she needed to conserve their clean water to mix with his medicine. She thought about searching for a stream, but she was terrified to take her eyes off him, even knowing there wasn’t a thing she could do if he took a bad turn. It was a chilly day at least, and she wished for cold breezes, even as she shivered.

She wanted to be furious with him. How dare he even think about trading his life for hers, as though outliving your friends was some sort of mercy! But she couldn’t stay angry. She knew, she had known since they put Kosaburou in the ground, that she had it in her to push onward though sorrow, through despair. But Renji had anchored himself to her, even moreso than the others, although he would never admit it. When she died, so would go the thin threads of common sense and self-preservation that tied him to this plane. He wasn’t the depressed type, at least she didn’t think he was, but he would just keep doing progressively stupider and riskier things until he’d finally earned his lottery card for meeting up with her again in the World of the Living.

Luckily, after a few hours, his fever broke, and not long after that, he woke. Rukia propped him up against the trunk of the tree, and made him eat one of their sour, wrinkly apples while she heated his tea with her demon magic, as the old man had called it.

“When did you learn to make heat with it?” Renji croaked. “Can you teach me?”

“You have to get better first,” she replied gently.

“Ru– Ru– Rukia, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You dumbass,” she chided him. “It was me. I was the one who was stupid.”

“We– we both need to be more careful,” he wheezed.

She studied his face. There was the faintest shadow of stubble on his jaw. He wasn’t a boy anymore. “No, I think that’s wrong,” she replied. “Being careful isn’t going to save us. Enough people saw you block a lead pipe with your bare arm. That’s a good start for a reputation. We would be foolish to waste it. It’s time to stop sneaking and skulking, and be bold and brash instead, to take this town for all its worth.”

He leaned his head back against the tree. “Can we start… tomorrow?”

Rukia laughed, and brought over his tea. When she bent to give it to him, a bold and brash thought seized her, and as his hands took the cup from hers, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He froze completely, his muscles locked in something like rigor mortis. She knew, with utter certainty, that his brain had abruptly devoted 100% of its processing cycles toward not dropping that tea.

This was the second time she had kissed him. The first had been many years prior. Inuzuri was a bad place for children, and girls in particular. Rukia had decided early on that, even if it wasn’t necessarily good, she wanted her first kiss to be freely given, and with someone she thought fondly of. She had carefully considered all four boys; any of them would have sufficed. Kosaburou would be gentle and thoughtful about it. Fujimaru, cheerful and easy going. Mameji would take the obligation very seriously, and never tell a soul. And then there was Renji. Grumpy. Pessimistic. She wasn’t even entirely sure he liked girls– he scolded the other boys any time they had “romantic notions,” as he put it, and he stiffened like a board if he thought she was going to touch him. Perhaps, like a cat, she was drawn to him because of the discomfort she sparked, but he was the one her heart settled on. She cornered him under a different tree, one summer morning when the others had already headed down to the river for some fishing.

“I want to kiss you,” she informed him. “Just the once, not a regular thing. Is that all right?”

His eyebrows drew together. “Why me?”

“I like your hair,” she replied, the first thing that popped into her head.

He contemplated this for a minute, then shut his eyes and clenched up his entire body, like he was ready to take a punch. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“You can just say no if you don’t want to,” Rukia replied. “You look really, uh, nervous about it.”

He took a deep breath in and out through his nose, and then his face relaxed, if not the rest of him. “Naw, it’s okay. I want you to. Go ahead.”

Rukia didn’t actually know much about how kissing worked, so she just sort of pressed her face up against his, their lips and noses squishing together uncomfortably. When what she gauged to be the correct amount of time had passed, she retreated again. “Did I do okay?” she asked.

Renji’s gaze was unfocused and he seemed to be having trouble breathing. “Yeah, it was nice,” he agreed, his voice sounding very far away. She suspected he was just trying to be kind.

“Let’s go fishing,” she said, and then he chased her down to the river like nothing at all had happened.

Rukia had observed a few more kisses since then, and had a better idea of how it was supposed to go, although Renji was no more helpful. She squeezed his fingers gently as she backed away.

“You saved me,” she said very quietly. “The hero is supposed to get a kiss.”

“Rukia,” he murmured, staring into the cloudy tea, unable to meet her eyes. “You shouldn’t’ve. We can’t.”

“You don’t want to,” she suggested.

“That’s… untrue,” he managed, and took a sip of his tea.

“Then why can’t we?”

“It would be unfair. The others…”

“I love all of them! I love all of you!” Rukia proclaimed, and Renji stiffened. That was the true sin, not kissing, but loving, in this forsaken place. They never said that word, none of them, not even once. But they had lost Kosaburou already, and everyone knew Mameji’s cough was never going to go away, and being careful wasn’t going to save any of them. Rukia swallowed. “But you’re the one I want to kiss.”

Renji squeezed his eyes shut and drank more of his tea. It wasn’t fair of her to do this to him while he was in tremendous pain, but she had almost lost him, she could still lose him. The fever might return, the wound might sour. And even if he recovered, there was the next heist, the next lead pipe, the next boar. Rukia felt seized with the need to make the most of every minute in between.

Renji sat back, rubbing at his splinted arm ruefully. He looked awful, pale and hollow-eyed and clammy with old sweat. Rukia loved him so much, she couldn’t stand it. She shouldn’t have said it out loud, she realized. The word was, indeed, a curse, an evil magic spell.

Renji turned his head to the side, pressing his cheek against the bark of the tree. “You’re such a bother, Rukia. You saved my life the first day we met, and you’ve been nothing but trouble to me ever since.”

“I know,” she replied.

“Can I go back to sleep, or do we need to get moving again?”

“You can sleep for a bit if you like, but you’ll be more comfortable back at the squat.”

“I’m comfortable enough here.”

He closed his eyes, and Rukia wondered if he was going to sleep like that, propped up against the tree. After a minute, though, he opened them again.

“If you want to kiss me now and again, I suppose that would be all right,” he pronounced with an air of finality. “But I kinda feel like shit right now, so maybe we could start that tomorrow, too.”

#renruki #bleach fanfiction #my writing #inuzuri times #maybe a 6 on the ol' feels-o-meter

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chimmysoftpaws · 5 years

Text

My Angel

Summary: OC is in a Mafia and there’s trouble. Will their family be able to save themselves or will their sins catch up to them?

Word Count: 6100

Pair: Bucky x Daenerys (OC)

Warnings: slight smut, angst, cliffhanger.

A/N : hey again. This is for @waiting4inspiration. Again babes I’m so proud of the milestone you have reached and I can’t wait till you reach more. I’m so sorry this is late again. I’m a terrible person 🙈 but I hope you enjoy 😊

24 December 2019

Christmas Eve

“Honey, our guests are here.” I shouted, walking to the door to great our guests. “You do realise they’re practically family, there’s no need for all this.” My husband said, walking towards the door. “I know but its polite to greet them.” I replied, fixing his shirt. He smiled and kissed my forehead.

We walked down the stairs to the driveway of our house. It was more like a manor. Bucky and I bought the house three months ago and promised to host Christmas Eve this year. It was mostly because Tony was too lazy to host this year. He also didn’t want a dirty house for the New Years party in a couple of days. I smiled as the luxurious cars stopped, their drivers and passengers walking out. Our family was... different. We didn’t own average jobs likes accountants or engineers, I mean Tony and his son, Peter, are engineers but not the kinds you meet everyday. Our family is big and we all have different roles. Some protect, some plan, some create, some care, some dispose We’re not the most innocent group but we do what needs to be done to help ourselves and others who can’t help themselves. I greeted everyone as they walked inside, their bags left for our attendants to take in. “Aunt Dani.” I heard from one of the cars. I just reached the bottom of the stairs before I was tackled by Morgan Stark, Tony’s 7-year-old girl. “Hey pumpkin.” I giggled. Morgan got off me and ran to Bucky. He smiled as he lifted her up. “Don’t hurt my kid, Manchurian Candidate.” Tony shouted, using his nickname for Bucky.

I laughed and hugged the couple. “Its so good to see you.”

“We’ve missed you.” Pepper said, pulling away. “So this is the mansion.” Tony exclaimed, examining our house. “Its big, how many kids are you planning to hold, 10?”

“Tony!” We exclaimed. Pepper slapped his arm. “Its to host people like you, honey.” Tony pulled a face at Peppers words and went off to greet Bucky. I greeted Thor and Loki, Steve and Peggy, Clint and Laura and their kids, Sam and Bruce before they walked into the house for refreshments. “Make yourselves at home!” I shouted. “We will!” Tony shouted back.

“Hey Parker.” I said, hugging the boy as he walked my way. “Hey, Dani.” He shyly replied, looking up from his phone. “How you been?” I asked “Everything’s great. Your.. your house is... wow.” He stammered “Thanks kid.” I kissed his cheek “Any girls I should know about?”

“Yea. Her name’s MJ.” May replied for him. Peters face flushed red as he groaned. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” Nat said, walking away from the group of men. “Can we not.” Peter groaned.

“Let’s leave the man. He’s got...business to attend to.” I said with a smirk. Peter faked pouting and rushed inside, his phone to his ear. “They grow up so fast.” Nat said, wiping a fake tear. I laughed and followed everyone inside, Bucky waiting for me before he shut the door. “Let the party begin!” Tony shouted. “Can we first get settled and have a tour of the house AND have dinner before you get drunk.” Pepper reprimanded. “Language Pepper.” Tony dramatically said, covering his daughters ears. “We do not discuss what certain liquids do to humans in front of children. Shame on you!” We all laughed and proceeded to tour the house and later have dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dinner was amazing Dani.” Clint said with a stuffed belly. I thanked him as we walked to the bar room. Morgan and Clint’s kids had been put in the arcade room, allowing everyone to relax a bit more. “How’s pregnancy treating you, Peggy?” Nat asked as I brought wine, beer, water, different juices and glasses from the bar, with the help of Bucky, to the table we surrounded. “It’s exhilarating! Steve and I have learnt so much. All Steve does these days is read those pregnancy books.”

“They are extremely helpful,” Steve defended. “Did you know that I can experience the same symptoms Peggy has during pregnancy?”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read these days.” Tony mocked. “He’s right, Tony.” Pepper added. “You thought my morning sickness was gross and three weeks later, you were stuck with your head in the toilet seat EVERY MORNING.”

“That’s... err... it’s nothing.” Tony stammered. “Aww, Tony, were you having a theoretical baby.” I cooed as Tony grumbled and poured more wine for him and his wife. I noticed Clint and Sam glancing at each other, having a silent conversation. Their faces were serious and held concern. “Is everything alright?” I asked, getting everyone’s attention. “... Ummm yea. Don’t worry.” Clint stutter, glancing at Bucky.

“Honey?”

“It’s nothing, doll.” Bucky stopped me from asking any questions. “Umm....Dani,, the house looks beautiful. You really went all out with the Christmas decorations.” Bruce spoke, shifting my attention away from my suspicions thoughts of the men in the house. “Thank you, Bruce. I wanted to make a good first impression of our new home.” I replied. “The tree is magnificent.” Nat added. “Where did you get all the money for the gifts?”

“Actually, I supplied the gifts. Dani just did the decor and I’ll applaud you, it’s not half bad.” Tony bragged. “Not half bad! Tony, I spent weeks planning for this!” I exclaimed. “It’s wonderful, Dani. Don’t listen to Tony, he doesn’t know good taste.” Pepper assured. I smiled and raised my glass to her while Tony looked at his wife with a feigned hurt expression. “Wait, sorry Sam, but what were you and Clint talking about?” Peggy asked. “You both looked very concerned.”

“It’s nothing, Peg, just leave it.” Steve reprimanded. “Well, it must be something if you’re talking to me like that.” Peggy snapped back. “Man, just tell them.” Clint mumbled. “Clint!” Steve stomped. “Does Laura know?”

“Know what?” Laura asked, walking in from upstairs. “They’re hiding something about the business.” I informed. “Clint?” Laura questioned, looking at her husband who avoided her eye. “Dani can you not!” Bucky shouted. “Do not raise your voice at me, James. I am your WIFE!” I shouted back. “Can someone please tell us what is going on?” Wanda voiced from her end of the lounge. “We deserve to know.”

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.” Her fiancée, Vis assured

“Liar.” She snapped, not believing him.

“Bucky, what’s going on?” I asked my husband. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I specifically asked for all of you to keep the business out of my house.”

“What about the business?” Pepper asked. “Nat?” I looked at her. She was awfully quiet. “It’s nothing.” She responded. “Oh for Gods sakes you know as well.” I got up, angry. “What the hell is going on?”

“I told you.” Sam pestered. “That’s enough, Sam.” Tony ordered.

“Why? They’re your wives and they’re apart of this.” Sam shot.

“That is why we were going to wait until AFTER Christmas.” Tony responded.

“And who would that’ve helped, Tony?” Bruce questioned. “If you won’t tell them, then I will.”

“I swear to God Banner, if you open you mouth!” Bucky exclaimed, walking to him. “You’ll what?” Bruce probed, coming chest to chest with him. “Tell me, James, what will you do?”

“Buck, stop.” Steve protested, pulling his friend away. “Yea, we don’t want you to go all bloody murderer on us again.” Tony mumbled. “Shut up, Stark!” Bucky shouted. “No no. You will not shout at me like some child, Barnes.” Tony shouted back, pushing Bucky back. “You’re a danger to all of us when you lose control.”

“Fuck you Stark.” Bucky growled, pushing him harder. “Enough! The both of you.” Pepper said walking between them. “Pepper, you stay away from him.” Tony whispered, looking at his wife.

“Tony that’s enough!” She shouted at him. “I swear, Stark...” Bucky moved closer to them. “Bucky, that’s enough.” I reprimanded, pulling my husbands face to mine. He blue eyes had grown dark, his hands clenched at his side, his figure shaking with anger. He pulled his face away from me and walked to the chair he was previously sitting at. “Ok, is someone going to clarify to the wives, YOUR wives, what it was that we were meant to be discussing in their absence.” Loki pressed. “No one asked you, Loki.” Bucky growled. I glared at him as he looked anywhere but me. “My brother is correct. They deserve to know.” Thor added. “I told Jane before she left for Italy.”

“You what!!” Steve whipping his head to face Thor. “You could get her killed.”

“She knows what she is doing and so do they.” Thor got up and pointed to us. “They are your wives, your partners. Show them respect.”

“Thank you Thor.” Wanda and I said in unison. Bucky sighed and said, “Fine but it will only make things more dangerous.”

“We are meant to face that together.” I declared, walking to my husband. “Or have you forgotten?”

“Everyone to the board room.” Steve ordered. I stomped up the stairs, Pepper, Peggy and Wanda following, leaving the others behind. They all glanced at each other before Tony spoke, “Well, we’re fucked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re what!!!” I shouted after Steve and Tony explained what they were hiding and why it was such and issues to tell us. “Another war...” Peggy commented with a vacant expression. Her hand was rubbing her five month stomach with concern. “We won’t let anything happen to you.” Steve assured his wife, his hand on her shoulder. “Yet you were willing to keep us in the dark and for what. Protection?” Peggy asked, shrugging Steves hand away. “This is dangerous stuff and you guys have more pressing matters.” Tony added. “Like what? Our only pressing matters are worrying whether our husbands come home everyday because of the shit business we’re involved in.” Pepper bellowed. “And did you really think they would leave us unharmed?” Wanda asked staring at Vision. He kept his head down, unable to answer his fiancée. “This is THE Mafia. They would’ve killed us the minute they knew you left us with the kids.” I said walking to the window. My body felt hot and the room instantly felt smaller. I tired taking deep breaths but it wasn’t working. “Baby, its okay. Just breathe.” Bucky said, putting his hand on my arm.

“What do you want us to do?” Peggy asked. I looked up at Bucky as he tucked on of my curls behind my ear. I felt as though my mind was not present anymore. Thinking about the one of the most dangerous mafias on the planet had me imagining gruesome scenarios. Bruce sighed and replied, “Well now that you know, we could use it to our advantage and include you in the mission.”

“Hell no!” Tony banged the table. I jumped and held onto Bucky. “Peggy is pregnant and Pepper has a child. I am, not endangering them because of ‘equality’.”

“Well, I have no children.” I said, walking to Tony. “Therefore, you can’t use that on me and my husband has no control of where I go and do not go.”

“The least we can do is include Dani. I could use the backup.” Nat said, giving me a smile. I nodded. I was still mad that she knew and didn’t tell me. “No.” Bucky interjected. “Yes.” I fought.

“I said no.”

“That is not your decision.”

“I will not let you get yourself killed just so that your can prove something.”

“That’s... that’s not the reason. I want to help. I’m not going to sit around and wait, you know that.”

“I’m not risking your life, Daenerys...”

“Do you guys want us to leave or...?” Tony tried asking.

“No!” We both shouted.

Bucky sighed. “We will finish this later.”

“There is nothing to finish.”

Bucky groaned. “Let’s just... continue.”

“What is the plan?’ Wanda asked. “The plan was for you to stay here. It’s the safest place because no one knows about it and it’s in the middle of nowhere.” Vision explained. “Fury would supply us with guards and Bucky has a safe room in case of a break in.”

“So we were to be surprised by a sudden break in? Wouldn’t it have been better if we knew from the beginning? We could’ve planned better.” Peggy suggested. “Can we just establish the plan so that I can go to my kids.” Clint urged, annoyed with the endless bickering. “Clint’s right.” Steve said. “For four years, we have been the strongest gang in America. We’ve been able to keep out enemies in the dark and have normal lives. The Avengers Company Limited has successfully supplied protection to communities and nations around the world. We’ve sacrificed a lot to be where we are today and we are not going to let some random mafia take us out.” Steve looked around the room. “A couple of weeks ago, each family received at letter declaring war. Unfortunately there was an attack last week against Fury. He got out but he’s a bit beaten up. So far there has been no attack after that, no threats absolutely nothing, but we have taken all precautions to ensure you guys were safe. Tonight we were meant to go over the plans we had to confront our enemies and show them that we are not afraid of war, if it were to come.”

“Who is it?” I asked.

“The Black Order.”

“Oh my God.” Pepper gasped, gripping her husband’s hand. “They want us all dead...”

“We’re not going to let that happen.” Tony said, holding his wife. “That’s why we plan to confront them let them know we’re not afraid.” Nat said. “Let them know that if they kill one of ours, we kill two of theirs.”

“How?”

“There’s a gala in Miami next week. We plan to crash it.” Tony said with a smile. “But we wont be alone. These past weeks we’ve contacted our allies and have tripled our security. We should be safe.” Bucky added. “Should be.” Sam scoffed. Bucky glared at Sam but didn’t respond to his comment. “All we want to do is talk to them. Negotiate terms of peace but if it doesn’t work, we will go to war.” Steve insisted. “They’re not the kind of people you just talk to, Steve.” I advised. “They’re the kind to shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Not with us.” Tony assured. “They know they’ve got our attention and we know they won’t stop there if we do not come to an agreement.”

“Why do they want us dead?” Wanda inquired. “What did we do?”

“We killed their leader, their ‘Father’, a man who goes by the name Ego.” Bucky said, solemnly. “An eye for an eye.” I whispered. “They almost killed Fury and for good measure they want to end us. ALL of us.” Steve urged. I sighed, “What do you want us to do, Cap.” Steve looked at his childhood best friend. Bucky looked back before looking at me and nodded. “In one week, we crash a party. A party meant to mock us. And we do it together...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christmas Day

“Mommy. Mommy look it’s snowing!”

“Honey, keep it down. Everyone is still sleeping.”

I heard from the voices downstairs. I groaned as small footsteps stomped along the wooden floors. My body was pulled towards another. I smiled and turned, facing my husbands muscular chest. My hand lazily traced his front as he ran a hand through my messy curls and down to my bare back. “Good morning, doll.” He grumbled, his voice hoarse from sleep. “Morning.” I mumbled and kissed his chest. He smiled and said, “I’m sorry I shouted yesterday. I... I just don’t want you to get hurt. I need you here.”

“Baby it’s ok, I forgive you. I just wish you would’ve told me.” I replied, kissing his cheek.

“I know. I just.. I can’t live without you. I’m a monster without you here and you know it, don’t even try to deny it.”

“Bucky...”

“I’m serious, doll. Before we met, I was a monster. A killing machine. All I wanted was blood but when I met you... God I’ve never felt happier. You’re my light, my angel.”

“I love you.” I whispered with a smile. “I’m not going anywhere.

“I love you more.” Bucky replied, kissing my forehead. He continuously traced my back while kissing my forehead as I sigh and snuggled into him. I felt his fingers trace over my breasts as his kisses travelled to my jaw and down to my neck. I moaned slightly as he left fresh marks, claiming what was his. I giggled slightly as he began nipping at my skin, his mouth traveling lower. “I...want a...baby.” He whispered between kisses as the tiny footsteps were replaced with bigger, heavier ones. I giggled and replied, “We’ll have one later.” Bucky whined and rolled us over, leaving me beneath him. “No. I want one now. With you.” He planted his lips on my chest and began playing with them. My giggles turned to moans as I melted in his hands. “We...need to...have...sex...now.”

“Bucky, we have guests to entertain.” I said, trying to push his face away. Bucky growled and captured my hands, locking then above my head. “And you need to entertain me.” He placed his leg in between mine, spreading them apart. “They can wait.” Bucky left no room for discussion as he fell between my thighs, drowning out my thoughts of the guests and replacing them with a need for him.

~~~~

“Ah, finally the love birds are here. We thought you were going to make babies all day.” Tony smirked as we walked to the garden where everyone sat. The kids were making snowmen while the adults snuggled near the fire. I blushed and hid in Bucky’s jacket. Bucky smirked and replied, “I have to continue my legacy, Tony. Not all of us were born with billions.”

“Bucky!” I squeaked. “At least I’ll get another niece or nephew.” Peggy said as Steve brought her another blanket. He smiled at the two of us and held his wife. “Merry Christmas you two. Although I’m assuming you already received your gifts.” Steve smirked. Sam and Clint laughed as I groaned and got up.

“I will not sit here and deal with this humiliation.”

“Come on, babe.” Bucky said with a laughed. I flipped him the middle finger and walked to Morgan.

“Hello, pumpkin.”

“Merry Christmas!” Morgan shouted, hugging me. “Do you wanna build a snowmaaaaan?”

“Of course.”

“Yay.” She pulled me to her snowman. Peter sat in the snow and watched his litter sister, phone in hand. “Peter, you have to get off that phone.” I scolded with a smile. “I’m...busy.” He replied, chucking some snow my way. “He’s busy with his girlfriend. Her names MJ.” Morgan said with a giggle. Peter blushed as threw snow at his sisters feet. She giggled and tackled him with a hug.

“Go and build your snowman.” Peter said as he tickled his sister. She giggled and screamed. “NEVER.”

“Morgan. Do you wanna build a snowman?” I sang.

She gasped and got up, rushing to me. “Come on let’s go and play.”

“I never see you anymore.”

“Come out the door.”

“It’s like you’ve gone away.”

“We used to be best buddies”

“And now we're not”

“I wish you would tell me why!”

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

“It doesn't have to be a snowman...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky’s P.O.V

I watched with a smile as my angel played with Morgan. They looked adorable, building their snowman as they sang a song from their favorite movie. “Do you want kids, Barnes?” I heard Tony ask. I turned to him and replied, “Yea, but we’ve never really talked about it.”

“Imagine a little, curly assassin running around this house.” Sam commented. “It’d be a rodeo.”

“Imagine four.” Nat commented. “Four?” Bruce questioned, pushing his glasses up. “Dani wants four kids. Two boys. Two girls.” Pepper clarified. “They’d look adorable.” Wanda gushed as she watched one of her best friends play with the little Stark. “Wow. That’s a lot of gifts.” Tony thought out loud, already planning the extravagant gifts he’d be getting his nieces and nephews. Bucky smiled at the thought of four babies running around the house on Christmas morning, excited for all their presents from uncle Tony. He watched his wife as his mind drifted to the sounds of the tiny pitter-patter on the dark wooden floors of his future angels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dani’s P.O.V

One week later

New Year’s Eve

Today was the day. The day for the gala. The day for the ‘peace treaty’.

Bucky was stressed, I could see it. His slept less and less as the days drew nearer. He never left my side and if he did, he made sure I had five guards with me. FIVE. I understood his concern but it was slightly ridiculous. We were stuck at Tony’s place in Miami, he literally bought it two days ago. He said it was one of his most secure places yet, so there was not need for 5 heavily armed guards. I sighed as I watched the sun set from the meeting from. Steve was going over the plan one last time with the team that would be going. I zoned out, having listen to it to the point where I could recite it in my sleep, and rubbed my stomach. “Dani...Daenerys!” I snapped my head to the person who used my full name. “Are you alright?” Steve asked. I nodded and waited for him to continue. “I think the Dragon Queen is tired of hearing the plan and so am I.” Tony joked. “I think we should suit up and leave. There’s not much we can do but pray this works.” Tony walked towards the door as Steve sighed. “Fine... suit up.” I kissed Bucky, got up and followed Nat to where we’d get changed. “Are you alright, Dani.” Nat asked. “You seem out of it,”

“I just... I feel like something’s off.” I responded while Nat sat me down to do my hair. Wanda walked to the closet to grab our dresses. “Well, we are walking into enemy territory.” She said, walking to the vanity table to apply some light makeup. “It’s not just that...” I drifted, rubbing my stomach again. “Well, let’s get your mind off of it.” Nat said, grabbing the remote to the radio and turning it on. She swayed her hips as she straightened my curls, creating a beautiful hairstyle. She rolled, blew and curled my now silky curls. I moved my body to the music as she left me to create my desire waves as she did her hair, creating a sleek low bun with her long waves. Wanda danced to the music while fixing her hair into a cute updo. Nat smirked and moved to Wanda’s makeup. I shook my head and turned to the mirror of the vanity table. I looked at all the different makeups and played around with them, tying to make my face match my hair and dress. I applied light foundation and medium contours, colouring my eyes with natural shadows and my cheeks with highlighter and topped it with a nude lipstick and gloss. “Now we look to die for.” Wanda gushed, running her hands down my arms dramatically. I giggled. “We’re going to be late.” I pushed her and Nat to their dresses, following behind. We each stepped into the dressing rooms, closing the curtains behind us and changed into our dresses for the night. Wanda and I stepped out with Nat in tow. “We look AMAZING.” Wanda squealed. I grabbed Wanda’s hand and twirled her. She had a gorgeous red dress. It was simple with a slight dip to show her cleavage and a large dip to compliment her curves. There was a slit along her left side allowing her to show off her killer legs decorated with captivating sparkly silver heels. Nat’s dress was fierce. She wore a 3/4, one strap black dress with a slit on the left. It was a boob tube, allowing for her breasts to be plumped to perfection. She topped her outfit with a simple black clutch purse and stewpot heel. Lastly, it was me. I wore a cream dress with sleeves that swept the floor. It was adorned with sparkles and had a design on the piece leading to the right of my body. The dress held my breast firmly, giving them a full look, and had a slit in the middle running slightly towards the right. I completed it with a pair of clear and sparkly toe heels.

“Time to go.” I gushed and walked to the door. We walked downstairs, the booming voiced of the boys directing us to their location. We followed Nat in to the living room and there were our boys. They all, Steve, Tony, Thor, Loki, Bucky and Vision wore their best suits with their hair styled to perfection and beards neatly trimmed. “You guys clean up well.” Nate said, smirking at Steve. Steve rolled his eyes and complimented her outfit. “It’s badass.”

“Didn’t know Steve could say bad language words.” Wanda joked.Everyone laughed while Steve grumbled in annoyance as I looked at my husband. He hadn’t moved or said anything since we walked in. He was like a statue, eyes fixed on me. I walked to him, putting an extra sway to my hips. His eyes travelled through my outfit and body, undressing me. I bit my lip as I stop in front of him and trailed my hand down his crisp black suit. His short hair had a bit of jell to keep the stray hairs from falling and his stubble was completely gone. “You look handsome, my husband.” I whispered in his ear. Bucky gulped loudly and breathed a soft wow. “Is it too much?” I asked, slightly worried at his silence. “No... you look...God...You look beautiful.” He stuttered.

I giggled and pecked his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Although I prefer you naked and a moaning mess in our bed.” He said with a light smirk, pulling me into a deep kiss. I smiled and kissed him back. “Alright, it’s time we get our necessary equipment and leave. We don’t want these two to have their kids in this room.” Tony shuddered at the very thought. We pulled away and followed everyone to the the table that held our toys. I excitedly skimmed my eyes around each weapon. Different knives and guns of different shapes and sizes stared back with a gleam of cleanliness. Knowing tonight and who we were up against, they might come back in different shades of red. “Alright. These are the weapons that we will equip ourselves with. We don’t want to attract attention so we’re keeping it small and simple.” Tony instructed. As he finished, Loki picked up different guns and handed them to Steve, Thor, Tony, Bucky, Vision and kept one for himself. Bucky instantly moved to the ammunition and began loading the belt wrapped around him with ammunition. Loki then handed knives to Nat, Wanda and I. I smiled and slipped my knife into the strap attached to my thigh. “Ladies, your guns will be kept with someone in case of an attack.” Loki instructed while handing Bucky, Vis one each and keeping on to himself, winking at Nat. She smirked and looked at Steve. I smiled at their secret interaction. “The mission is to keep the peace. That means staying far away from anything that could start a blood bath between us.” Steve ordered, glancing at Loki who smirked. I smiled slightly. Steve raked his eyes through each member of the team before continuing. “Lets move.” Everyone nodded, their serious expressions displayed, and moved towards the limo. “How are we fitting into ONE limo?” I asked, staring at the vehicle while Wanda and Vision got in. “Darling, how big do you think limos are? We can fit. Besides, do you really think I’d let you and Barnes go in a car alone? Hah, not a chance. I for one do not want a pregnant women on the mission.” Tony rambled, urging us into the limo. “Forgive me, Mighty Tony, for I do not travel in a limo everyday as I am not nor will I ever want to be you.” I spoke dramatically. Thor laughed at my impression of him. Thor was my favourite to impersonate because of his deep Australian-American accent. Tony rolled his eyes and pushed me slightly into the limo.

Once we were in, the limo drove to our destination. In the meantime, Tony opened a bottle of champagne. Steve looked at him with an expression of disapproval. “What? If we want to look ‘calm’ we’ll need a disguise and everyone knows champagne is the best distraction.” Tony explained, handing us each a glass of sparkling, pink champagne. I denied a glass. “You never pass up a glass of fancy juice.” Tony said with a pout, referring to the champagne in the way his daughter does. “I want to be 100% alert for this mission. It’s life or death with the Black Order.” I replied with a serious face. “Your loss.” Tony said, drowning my glass. I laughed at his urgency and grabbed Bucky’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Bucky smiled and brought my hand to his mouth and peppered it with kisses.

We arrived at the hall where the Gala was hosted. Our doors were opened from both sides of the limo, allowing for us to get out quicker. I felt Bucky grip my waist as we walked the red carpet leading to our potential death or success. The cameras flashed from all angles, paparazzi wanting to get every angle of the guests. The shouting and flashing increased as we strutted in, ignoring the accustomed attention. “Good luck.” Steve announced into the coms, walking with Tony who grabbed them glasses of champagne. Everyone dispersed, blending in with the crowd, leaving Bucky and I by the entrance. “M’lady, may I have this dance?” Bucky asked, graciously bowing. I giggled and replied with a small curtesy, “I’d love to, my husband.” Bucky smiled and pulled me to the dance floor. The music was slow, allowing us to dance close and feel the beats of each other’s hearts. I smiled at my husband as his eyes scanned the area. His hand tightened around my waist and pulled me closer. He looked down at me and gave me as small smile before continuing to look around. I glanced over his shoulder to look for any of the members of the Black Order.

“I see them.” Bucky whispered in my ear. He spun me around, allowing for me to peep at the group lounging in a corner. They had multiple guards around them but they seemed to be unaware of our presence and lacked seriousness as they drowned in the free alcohol. “They’re in the corner in the far right.” I reported, glancing at Steve. He nodded and advanced closer to them, Thor and Tony in tow. I watched as Loki and Nat glided past us, getting a view of our rival gang. They stopped dancing and watched the three boys make themselves known to the group. I watched as Tony mad a ruckus, creating expressions of anger in the Black Order. “Their leader is missing.” I observed, furrowing my eyebrows and stopping our dance. I looked around the room for any sign of him but fell short. “He has to be here.” Bucky urged, searching the room as well. “He is here. That treacherous snake wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Loki annunciated. “This is the perfect opportunity for him to boast about the fear he thinks he created in us.”

“Well he didn’t fail.” Wanda added, her face holding and expression of worry. “It’s ok to have fear, Wanda.” Nat advises, placing a hand of her shoulder. “But we never allow the enemy to know or they’ll have an advantage they never knew they needed over you.” Vision nodded to his fiancée, “We will protect you.” Suddenly, the music has stopped. The crowd stood confused as to why their dancing was abruptly interrupted. A slow clapping could be heard from behind us. I turned to find the devil himself, Thanos. “I didn’t think you’d show up.” He stated, sipping from his glass of champagne. His gang rallied around him while Steve, Tony and Thor walked in front of us. “We’re here to negotiate.” Steve stated. The Black Order laughed a sickly laugh. “There is nothing to negotiate.”

“We want peace before there is a war that will benefit no one. Let us save our own and no harm will come to you.” Thor announced. “Harm? To us?” Thanos mocked. “The only harm will be to you.” As he ended, his gang pulled out their guns, pointing the at us. People around us screamed and made a run for the door. Many stayed behind and took our their guns, pointing them at us.

“Is that supposed to scare us?” Tony mocked. I sighed and shook my head. He’s going to get us killed. “Let us talk reason before there is bloodshed. This kind of violence isn’t necessary.” I pleaded. “I suggest you listen to her.” Loki urged with a smirk. “You won’t like the outcome if you don’t.”

“You’re outnumbered.” A man named Corvus, bellowed with a smirk. “That’s because we didn’t come here to fight. If we did, you would already be dead.” Nat probed. “You dare come in here thinking you can negotiate for your life AND disrespect us?” Another member, Proxima shouted. “You will pay for your actions, with your lives.” Bucky stopped in front of me as she took the safety off her gun. I gulped. We were outnumbered. There was no way for us to win this. “What terms would you have suggested?” Thanos asked, entertaining the idea of a negotiation.

“All we ask is that you let us live.” I spoke. “You have high expectations, my child.” Thanos replied with a chuckle. “But if you want to live... we demand that you give the man who killed Ego.” I looked at Loki and walked forward. “No. You can’t have him.”

“An eye for an eye, my dear.” Thanos taunted. “Or would you rather your unborn baby die?”

Bucky gasped, “Dani?” I whipped my head in his direction before looking back at Thanos.

“How..?”

“You have many enemies, Mrs Barnes. Many who want your husbands head.” Proxima sneered. “Dare I say, they might even reside in your own home.”

“Fuck you.” I sneered back. Proxima smirked at me before looking at the rest of us. “That is our condition. An eye for an eye.”

“No! My brother will not be touched.” Thor boomed, walking in front of me. “You’ll have to take him over my dead body.” Nat and Wanda pulled me back to Bucky’s side, who still stood in shock. He looked down at me with a betrayed expression forcing me to look away, ashamed that I had kept this secret. “That will be arranged. As the same will be done to all of you who,” Corvus said. “We need to go.” Vis whispered to Steve. “We can’t. We’re trapped.” Wanda shook. “You might if I go.” Loki said. “If I go, you will let the leave. Let us fight our battles in the right manner.” Loki announced to The Black Order. “No!” We shouted.

“Brother, no!”

“Mmm, why not.” Thanos taunted. “Yea sorry that’s not happening.” Tony added. “Fortunately all your ‘taunting’ bought us enough time to... even the playing fields.” We all looked at Tony in confusion when suddenly, dozens of armed soldiers burst through the door and windows. Glass fell from every direction as guns were pointed at the Black Order. “You see, we’re not going anywhere and you know why?” A Tony said. I watched as he walked into the hall, eye patch and all. I smiled at our friend.

“Because they’re the fucking Avengers. And you motherfuckers stand no chance.”

Bang.

#bucky #reader curly #avengers #natasna #loki #thor #steve rogers #mafia oc #thanos #wanda marvel #babies #bucky barnes smut

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serenatheordinarygirl · 4 years

Text

Here we go...

It was year 2018. One of my great friends and I were supposed to go to MotoGP races in Italy. I was excited to go to my favorite small town in Italy, to enjoy the best of bikes and sea. I could not imagine better vacation. Month and half before the vacation my friend told me he couldn’t go. I was gutted and decided to shortened the trip a little but I went anyway.

It was not first time I visited this town alone and I knew my way around pretty well. I also knew that lot of people visiting this town were there for Moto GP. Not just fans but also GP teams and their riders. My bored brain had “brilliant” idea. “Lets try to be Gold Digger!”

Well the fun part about this whole idea is that I am pretty shit at dating, so what difference would it make to be gold digger? None, you say? You are right! Absolutely no difference at all. My #golddiggerfails are sometimes funny and embarrassing literally every time.

I started to think about what to do, to get attention, or how to start conversation. Well that was the first obstacle of this whole experience. A) I know only theoretically how to get attention, B) I have no idea how to start conversation and don’t act weird.

I decided to put the theoretical point to the action. I managed to put on some light make up to look better when I was at bar with glass of wine. The second step was to look approachable, this is the part where my theoretical knowledge was really tested and as it turns out absolutely useless. My brain got stuck.

How to act at the bar and not to look desperate? Question that took me to figure out few moments... hours... days...To be honest until this day I am not sure about the answer. First I tried to look really cool with glass of wine, in reality it probably looked like I have digestion problems but whatever. I was unsuccessful anyway. Second time I tried to look approachable as my natural face is “resting bitch face” this turned out to be even worse than my cool look. I am not sure how it actually looked but I would guess something between “I am crazy person” and “I am desperate, please notice me”. Exactly everything you should avoid while you are out.

The bigger problem when I had good day and didn’t feel weird or inappropriate, I had no idea how to start conversation with the guy I might be interested in and not actually talking, because it could go wrong really quickly. I think that guy should be always the one that should start verbal conversation. So whatever happens I didn’t want to be first one talking.

I could try smiling but at the point of me being drunk, it wouldn’t go well. It would just look creepy, a lot and I don’t think I am even joking right now. Just imagine regular girl that tries to look hot and cool with big cheesy simile. It’s just disturbing. So I just didn’t try that option.

Another option was eye contact. Maybe then, there will be some success. Key to successfully eye contact is correct amount of it. Not too much and not too little and maybe little smile. Just little not the big drunk cheesy one... controlled little smile should be the key. Turns out when I am little tipsy, I am really good at staring at people. Yes staring, nothing cute and controlled. Luckily no one was paying any attention to me.

Now I think I already know how to use the eye contact. Only hold the eye contact and give away shy smile if the guy is looking at you, for longer period of time then two seconds.

So this whole preparation and mental gymnastic took me like 4 days. It was Wednesday, time to find my first “victim”

The focus was to find someone who works in MotoGP circus. That was plan with few easy septs. First was to identify faces you know form TV. Second step is to identify GP employees by T-shirt and third step was to asses if the person is rich.

In few hours I realized that the steps are not easy at all. “Where do you find people??” On the street... nope that would be too easy and as you can tell by now. I don’t do easy... anything.

I started to stalk social media... useless. My other “brilliant” idea was bars, I was not convinced but went out. Not without proper preparation, at this point I had conversation with my two friends, if I should or should not wear trousers with my long almost dressy shirt. I swear the conversation was about fifty minutes long and included about five clothes changes. Including short shorts because I am not going out with naked bum. I took long summer trousers, black, because it doesn’t matter when sun is not out.

I walked along the street with hotels that have direct view at see. I was lucky in a way, at one of the most prestige hotels in the street I saw the Ducati crew. Now just find plan how to get to them. I texted my friends because, as usually, I had no clue what to do.

I was out the whole night and again absolutely no success, if I would take it as real thing I would be so miserable. So I started to google the hotel where I saw the Ducati crew. I needed to know if I could go there just for dinner or wellness or anything that would not ruin me financially. I ultimately decided it would be easier to book there a hotel room. What could go wrong? I had one more day and had to leave at 5am. Thank god I am lazy and didn’t go trough with it. What kind of nut job would switch hotels for one night, not me. Thats what I had to tell to the adventurous part of brain that would pack and for one night move to the other hotel with my friends encouragement. So logic was stronger then gold digging.

At this point I actually gave up. For my last night I decided to do something normal, what would tourist do. I took train ride around the city to explore parts I did not went to during my stay. With my luck it was raining, so no open train ride. We had to close the plastic windows not to be completely wet. Rain continued for while, heavy to light and light back to heavy. Because I didn’t want to go back to hotel, I was hiding under my rain coat and searching for space to eat or have a coffee or some other drink.

All of the sudden guy, that was hiding under big umbrella at one of the places I considered to go to, started talking to me. I didn’t mind it, even when I was annoyed by the rain. He asked me, if I want to have drink with him. I mean, that was what I was trying to achieve the whole trip. I was little cold and looking horrible, I was in the rain for good amount of time, but this guy just wanted to talk to me. He was actually really interesting person and we had really interesting chat during the short time.

I don’t know if I can call this success. If you think how long I was trying to achieve something like this, so I was only slightly successful... someone talked to me, without me being weird or creepy.

Ok this was my first lie, my brain is always little weird, even when he was perfect gentleman, my brain was not ok with him to walk me to my hotel. So I tried to evaluate at least ten escape plans during our walk to accommodations. Luckily his hotel was closer and we parted ways forever... I had to leave the next day, otherwise this would be definitely longer silly story.

#golddiggerfails #sillylifestories #serenatheordinarygirl

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jennycalendar · 6 years

Text

princess charming

read on ao3!

written for the anon who said, and i quote, “in one of your fics, jenny saved fred in pylea. i'd love to read that happening.”

“The Crebbil,” said Lorne, who was moving so fast through the crowd of people that Jenny had to grab onto his sleeve to keep up, “is when they cut off someone’s head!”

“Oh, that’s not good,” said Jenny, “that’s really not good,” then, “Can you slow down? I’m still—” and gestured down to her clunky heels, which were beginning to pinch at her feet.

“Jenny, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times—”

“—save the impractical shoes for parties and the bedroom, yeah, we get it, Lorne,” said Jenny a little snippily, more irritated at herself than at him. She’d been in the supernatural gig for way too long to make amateur mistakes like this one, and it was frustrating that the one time she did, they ended up in a demon dimension and Angel ended up drunk on being a hero. “Do you think he’s actually going to, you know—” She drew her index finger across her throat.

“I’m tryin’ to think positive right now, sugarplum,” said Lorne, who was doing his best to squeeze both him and Jenny through the crowd. It wasn’t really working. “Angel!”

Jenny added her voice to the cacophony of cheers and “bring the crebbil!” “ANGEL,” she shouted, “I AM WEARING THE CLUNKY HEELS AND I AM USING MY TEACHER VOICE, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW AND TALK TO ME!”

“Interesting approach,” said Lorne. “Not sure where it’s gonna get you.”

Jenny managed a terse smile in Lorne’s direction (after all, it wasn’t his fault that their fearless leader was being fearlessly idiotic) and then properly utilized her status as the smallest member of Angel Investigations, squeezing carefully through cheering demons until she’d reached the platform itself. A tall, shaking girl dressed in what looked like a glorified potato sack was being led up the steps, and her eyes met Jenny’s in complete and total bemusement.

“Hi,” said Jenny, smiling. If your idiot boss wasn’t going to do the saving, odds were you were gonna have to do it yourself.

“Jenny, what you’re trying to do is a phenomenally bad idea!” she heard Lorne shout.

“Thanks for the input,” Jenny sang out, clambering onto the platform, “send it to the suggestion box!” Turning, she found herself face-to-face with an utterly bemused Angel, who was holding a battle-axe as if not quite sure what to do with it. “Hey, let me handle this one, okay?” she said brightly. “You do the fighting. Team effort.”

“Jenny, what are you doing?” Angel asked, sounding more annoyed than anything. His eyes darted from the girl (who was now kneeling with her head on a chopping block) to Lorne’s relatives, who were both scowling at Jenny. “You’re disrupting the Crebbil,” he said with an amusing amount of frustration for someone who Jenny would bet her life savings didn’t even know what the Crebbil was.

“You’re about to kill someone,” she said, irritated. “That’s the Crebbil.”

Angel’s eyes widened and he looked helplessly at Lorne’s relatives, as if hoping that they would tell him that Jenny didn’t know what she was talking about. But Lorne’s mom, still staring Jenny down as if planning to put her on the chopping block after potato-sack girl, snapped, “The cow is a runaway. A scavenger. She plunders our food stores. We are honoring you by letting you kill her.”

“Yeah, you handle the angry mob,” said Jenny, and patted Angel on the shoulder, turning gracefully on her heel to cross the platform to the girl. Carefully, she pulled the girl up. “Hi,” she said.

The girl stared at her with wide, starry eyes. “Hi,” she said.

“Jenny—” Angel began, frustrated.

“Will you let this stand, Angel?” shouted Lorne’s cousin from the crowd. “This cow should not be allowed to disrupt—”

“Hey, if you’re calling me that, at least buy me dinner first,” Jenny shot back, tossing an arm around the girl’s shoulder. “Angel, you can hold these guys off, right?”

Angel, who was now looking a little guilty, nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry. Got a little—uh—”

“Thoughtless?”

“You could say that.”

“Punch-drunk on your own glorification?”

“You’ve made your point, Jenny,” said Angel, his words coming out through gritted teeth—not because he was mad at Jenny, more because he was swinging his battle-axe at the demons now rushing the platform. Jenny, who was beginning to wish she’d grabbed a weapon before running up impulsively, did her best to block the girl, but Angel couldn’t exactly hold off all the demons forever—

“Stop!” shouted Lorne.

Angel and Jenny both looked over at him, surprised.

“…in the naaame of love,” Lorne continued, warbling, “before you breeeak my heart…”

All around them, demons began to drop their weapons and fall back to cover their ears. Jenny, noticing a nearby horse, grabbed potato-sack girl’s hand and towed her over to it.

“Wait!” potato-sack girl gasped. “What’s your name?”

“Horse now, talk later,” Jenny gasped, pulling herself awkwardly up into the saddle and tugging the girl up next to her. “Come on!”

“Jenny!” Angel shouted.

“Take care of Lorne, I’ll be back!” Jenny yelled, spurring the horse on with her now-very-useful clunky heels. She felt the girl’s arms tighten around her waist, and added a little belatedly, “Once I, uh, figure out how to steer this thing.”

Horses, as it happened, weren’t too difficult to figure out, particularly when Jenny’s primary goal was to get away from the demons and she didn’t have an exact destination in mind. After a good ten minutes of riding, she decided that this was a good place to stop, then realized that she wasn’t really sure how to stop a horse. “Stop,” she said to it, which didn’t work.

“Pull on the—the things,” said potato-sack girl in her ear.

Jenny pulled on the reins, then tried to gracefully hop off the horse. Potato-sack girl, however, was still holding tightly to her waist, which added some extra complications in the form of extra weight, and next thing Jenny knew they had both fallen off the horse, potato-sack girl’s head on her chest. It didn’t at all help that they were on an incline, which sent both of them tumbling, Jenny’s arm wrapped awkwardly around potato-sack girl’s waist in a futile attempt to steady her at least a little.

They stopped as the terrain flattened out, in a grassier, less rocky region, now with Jenny lying on top of potato-sack girl. She tried to pull back, but potato-sack girl was still holding onto her very tightly. “Um, first of all, ow,” said Jenny, gently tugging herself back to sit next to potato-sack girl, “and second—are you okay?”

Potato-sack girl blinked at her, the corners of her mouth trembling. “You saved me,” she said. “You saved me from the monsters.”

“Honestly, I feel like it was more of a team effort,” Jenny began, then considered the matter a little more thoroughly. “You know what? Yeah. I did. How are you doing?”

Potato-sack girl seemed to seriously consider the question for a brief moment, and then jumped to her feet, dashing into the wilderness.

“Hey!” Jenny called, indignant. “That is so not fair play!” Infuriated, she kicked off her shoes, then took off after potato-sack girl, pushing her now-messy hair out of her face because of fucking course she’d chosen to grow her hair out now.She missed her days of short hair and easy-stepping shoes, but—missing those days led to missing other things that she hadn’t thought about in a very long time. Stumbling a little, rocks and dry grass pricking at her bare feet, she followed potato-sack girl through a wooded area, past a boulder, and into—a cave. A cave, its walls engraved with symbols that looked almost like—

“Equations,” said Jenny softly, admiringly, forgetting her irritation. Stepping all the way into the cave, she ran her fingers along the carefully-scratched numbers and lines. “These are…beautiful.”

The sound of potato-sack girl’s scratching on the wall stopped very abruptly. A tentative second passed before she turned to look at Jenny. “You think so?” she asked, timid.

“I was a computer science teacher, for a while,” said Jenny, smiling at the meticulous nature of a particular set of variables next to her. “I always appreciate someone who shows their work.”

Potato-sack girl stood up, looking at Jenny, her mouth trembling. “You can’t be real,” she said. “You’re so—”

“Messy?”

“Beautiful,” said potato-sack girl, a sigh in her voice. “You’re like some kind of princess come to save me.”

Belatedly, Jenny remembered that this was the day she’d chosen to wear not only the clunky heels, but the long dress. “Princesses don’t usually wear leather jackets,” she quipped, taking a careful step towards potato-sack girl.

“Oh, I’m of the mind that the best kinds do,” said potato-sack girl earnestly, and smiled—a smile that was gone as quickly as it had arrived. “But you can’t be real.”

“Why not?”

“I was—I should be dead, right now,” said potato-sack girl, her voice breaking a little. “Nothing but bad things happen in this place—no princess comes out of the blue and whisks me away on a steed.”

“You know, I’ve always been of the mind that we make our own luck,” said Jenny conversationally. “Saying that nothing but bad can exist in a place—I feel like that’s a little limiting, don’t you? You’re a mathematician—”

“Physicist,” the girl corrected.

“Physicist—then you should know even better how theoretical and whimsical the universe can be,” said Jenny with a fierce, enthusiastic passion. “You should know that my saving you really was just one of many random acts of chance that led us both here to this cave.”

“Um, I led us both here,” said the girl.

“I could have chosen not to follow,” Jenny pointed out.

The girl smiled again, this one quivery but still lingering. “I’m not dead?” she asked.

“No,” said Jenny, taking two more steps to sit down next to her.

“You’re real?”

“I like to think so,” said Jenny, smiling gently.

The girl’s smile widened into something almost blindingly bright, and she adjusted a pair of crooked glasses that Jenny hadn’t noticed she’d been wearing. “Fred,” she said.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m, I’m Fred,” said the girl. “I’m from—another world, I think. I hope.”

“Fred?” Jenny echoed, and then it clicked. “Fred—physicist—you’re the girl from Cordelia’s vision!”

“What?”

“Long story,” said Jenny, who was beginning to feel a little wrung-out. “What I can say pretty definitively is that we’re from the same world, and that my friends and I are working on a way to get back.”

Fred blinked, her expression becoming blank and defeated. “Can’t go back,” she said. “There is no back.”

Jenny considered this, then moved forward, taking Fred’s hands carefully in hers. “Were I a princess,” she said quietly, “would you follow me?”

“I’ll follow you even if you’re not,” said Fred helplessly. “Anywhere’s better than—than this cave, this cage.” Her voice caught on a sob, and her head dropped, her glasses falling to the ground in between them as she moved to cover her face with her hands.

Gently, Jenny tugged Fred’s hands away. “My name is Jenny,” she said, “and I’m here to rescue you. Now let’s go find my friends.”

A lot of things happened after that—messy, and scary, and a lot of threats were made—but Fred stuck by Jenny’s side like glue, wide-eyed and panicked even through the fighting. A lot of things happened, and at the end of it all, Jenny snuck off by herself to take a long and well-deserved bubble bath in one of the fancy palace bathrooms before they headed for home. Her dress was torn, and her leather jacket had a long slash down the back (from the swords, she supposed—Jenny Calendar, always one for close calls), and it felt comforting and freeing to discard them and clamber into magically warmed water. She might only be a technopagan, but she was still some kind of a witch.

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Come in,” Jenny called; she’d never been one for modesty, and it was always hilarious to see Angel and Wesley fall all over themselves blushing. To her surprise, it was a nervous Fred who peered around and into the bathroom. “Oh! Hi.”

“Oh, are you—I should go,” Fred stammered.

“No, it’s okay,” said Jenny, lying back in the tub and letting her hair spill outward on the water. “I’m not doing much, and the bubbles are doing wonders to keep me covered. What’s up?”

Fred took another step in, her eyes fluttering across the tub and then to Jenny’s face. She was still wearing the potato sack thing and looking somewhat dusty. “I—” She seemed almost unable to speak, her cheeks heated.

“Is this a conversation that we should be having fully clothed?” Jenny asked, turning her head so that her cheek lay on the surface of the water.

Still blushing, Fred nodded.

“Do you need to take a bath?”

Fred nodded again.

“Give me a minute and I’ll set one up for you,” said Jenny, then, more gently, “I’d imagine you’re not exactly one for being alone.”

“I-I’m not,” said Fred, faltering. “Not really.”

She reminded Jenny of Willow, ever so slightly—the stammering, the sweet hesitance—and it was perhaps that that made Jenny warm to her even more. “I’m really just soaking, now,” she said. “You mind turning away while I grab a robe?”

“Of course,” Fred squeaked, and covered her eyes, all but jumping to turn her back to Jenny.

Carefully, Jenny stepped out of the tub, leaning down to pick up the neatly folded, pleasantly fluffy robe she’d found among a heap of linens while exploring the palace. Donning it, she gently tapped on Fred’s shoulder. “I’m decent,” she quipped. “Let me just get the water ready for you.”

“Oh, I can—”

“I’ve got a little magic in me,” said Jenny playfully. “I can make the water a little warmer, and I think you’d like that a little better, right?”

Fred was now looking at her with a wide-eyed scientific curiosity that spoke to something deep in Jenny’s soul. Wordlessly, she nodded, then began to strip out of the potato sack.

“Oh, hey, let’s keep our clothes on for now,” said Jenny hastily, taking Fred’s hands in hers. “I’ll cast a little spell on the water, then go look for fresh linens while you get into the bath, how’s that?”

“You’re a witch?” Fred sounded a mixture of impressed and—smitten, if Jenny’s ego wasn’t playing tricks on her. Well. She was a sweet kid, but she was a kid, and Jenny was going to have to let her down gently.

“Technopagan,” Jenny corrected, squeezing Fred’s hands. “Let me get that water for you.”

“Techno-pagan,” said Fred, trying out the word as Jenny turned back to the tub. “Tech-no-pa-gan. I don’t think I’ve heard that word before, at least not used the way you use it.”

“I’m sort of witchcraft’s nerdy cousin,” said Jenny, laughing. “A lot of what I’ve been doing lately is experimenting with the intersection of magic and science, and how those two things can coexist—plus, of course, tech. That was where I got started.”

“What do you mean, where you got started?”

Jenny felt her smile fade a little. “I met someone,” she said. “Made me think about what else I could do all by myself.”

Fred’s voice was soft when she spoke next. “Meeting someone doesn’t generally make people think about flying solo,” she said quietly. “Guessin’ that someone you met isn’t around anymore.”

“Yeah,” said Jenny simply.

“A princess with a tragic past,” said Fred wonderingly.

“I think I’m more of a sorceress,” Jenny corrected, smiling despite herself. “Or a spy.”

“No—you wouldn’t make a good spy,” said Fred decisively. “You aren’t all that good at lying.”

This was more true than Fred could know. Jenny finished filling the tub again, then whispered a few words in Latin to heat it and a few words in English to add some bubbles—a perfect blend of old theory and new was what Jenny had always known best. “I’m going to get you a fluffy robe,” she said, turning to Fred. “You get into that tub, okay?”

Fred’s smile blossomed, soft, bright, and beautifully unafraid. This is a good kid, Jenny thought with conviction. I’m going to take care of this kid.

#fic #jenny calendar #fred burkle #oKAY SO I FUCKED UP #this was supposed to be an ask prompt and then....nearly 3k words later.....#but this was something i had Ideas about. could not be limited #anyway after the events of the grieving process i think jenny and fred reconnect #fred becomes jenny's protege and hangs out with willow a lot #it's very cute

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downstairsdreamersamantha-blog · 6 years

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Samantha glanced around carefully before slipping into the library, shielding the candle in her hand to hide its glow from anyone who might be there. She had finished Romeo and Juliet, and now she needed to pick up something else. Maybe John Milton. The last guest had spent a solid two hours waxing poetic over his Paradise Lost, which did sound interesting. But his defense of free press also intrigued her. Maybe she would be lucky and they would be printed in the same book, otherwise she would have to wait on that defense. She only ever risked taking a single book at a time. Just in case.

To say that Samantha had secrets would be a touch overdramatic in her opinion. It was more she had plenty she didn’t see the point of sharing, and she had perfectly good reasons to keep it to herself. Added to the fact that if any of those aspects of herself did become common knowledge, it might adversely affect her chances in this household and the rest of her life.

All right, when it was phrased that way, it did sound uncomfortably like a secret. But it wasn’t the same.

It was just that the daughter of a Scottish thatcher and laundress wasn’t supposed to be able to become a maid in an English household, let alone dream any larger than that for herself. The first time she had mentioned to her older sister Amelia that she wanted to learn more books than just the Bible, leave the village, and maybe become a governess, Amelia had scoffed. ‘Don’t be daft Sammy, how are you supposed to do that? We don’t have the money for any of those fancy books, and no one is going to want to learn from someone who talks like us. You’ve seen their looks. Now help finish the chores so we can eat tonight.’

So in a way, that became the first secret. She pretended to her sister that she had given up on that idea and become focused on the same thing the people around her could imagine as a future. Then after everyone else had gone to bed, the tasks she set herself began. Three nights a week, she read from the family Bible until even the most unfamiliar words sounded easy in her mouth and mind. Three nights a week she stayed up going over the family account books to understand at least rudimentary maths and finances. The remaining night was spent scraping together every bit of spare wool and scrap of thread that could theoretically be spared to add whatever style she could to the one outfit she was saving for the day she left.

The hardest work she had to do came from that comment Amelia had made – no one wanted to learn from someone who sounded like her. The Scots had been part of the empire in name for hundreds of years, but even now, the Mckays were looked down on in their village for their clear heritage. She knew people considered Scots nothing but stupid, hot tempered, unreliable, drunk fighters, despite the fact that her family was built of hard working God-fearing folk. They were tolerated, but not respected in town. If Samantha wanted more than that, well, that meant no one else needed to know she was Scottish.

She told herself that she could use any position she earned to start to correct the dark perception of her people, but that was mostly to assuage any guilt she was feeling over what she was trying to do. Which was erase her accent. Countless hours of eavesdropping and practice went into erasing the most outlandish elements of her speech and polishing it into something like what her neighbors sounded like. By the time she arrived at Hudson Hall, she could easily pass as a lowborn English girl. Which she knew was one of the only reasons they had allowed her to gain the increasing responsibility she did instead of keeping her locked in the kitchen where she couldn’t interact with any of the guests.

Even now, after all these years, there are still times Samantha has to be careful not to let her accent betray her. When she becomes exceptionally angry or upset, her control begins to slip and the Scottish burr starts to become more pronounced. Usually, just hearing that is enough to have her calming down and gaining a better control over herself. But there’s a small part of her that can’t help wondering if someday she’ll be forced to end this charade because she slipped in front of the wrong person.

But the beauty of being here was that she finally had access to the books her heart craved. Working as a maid, she had slowly eased herself into being in the position of taking on most of the library duties. Which meant she had the time to look at the books, and she could reasonably justify being there if anyone asked. At first, it had been hard to know where to start because the sheer volume of them had been overwhelming. But time and persistence had taught her why they were organized the way they were, and where best to start.

Before long, she was sneaking books back to her room and hiding them under the mattress in order to read them at her leisure. Carefully, she took notes in a journal she had acquired for that purpose, keeping track of unfamiliar words, thoughts about the material, and any connections she could make to the real world. Occasionally she would be nearby when an intellectual came to visit, and she drank in everything they said and took notes, using that to shape what she paid attention to the next time she read. Someday she was going to be able to converse on their level. Then other people would sneak around, hoping to be able to listen to her.

Actually, she had heard of Lord Hudson allowing some of the staff to use his library, but every person she’d heard about was a man. Not a woman. So for Samantha, it was far better to keep her borrowing and her study a secret, because as long as it was, no one was able to tell her she wasn’t allowed or would think of firing her. It was also possible that what she was doing was completely fine, but she wouldn’t take the chances.

It was the opening of Bedford College that shifted her dream and solidified what she wanted out of life. A university. A women’s university with female teachers and female students, learning and engaging in the arts and sciences. A woman’s place where she wouldn’t have to be in service, and no one would expect her to marry and be satisfied with that. Before, a governess had been the highest she’d been able to dream, but that was just because she hadn’t been exposed to more. Now that she had, her dreams had gotten so much bigger.

All she needed was to find some way to earn the tuition for herself so she could become a student. From there, the world was bound to open up to her in the way she craved, and she could prove herself enough to be accepted as a member of the faculty. Then she wouldn’t ever need to be subject to the whims of the aristocracy again. She would be intelligent, respected, accountable to no one but herself and the other educated women she worked with. Maybe she could even publish her own work and start to expand the bounds of knowledge, truly leaving her mark on the world. No one was going to forget the name of Samantha Mckay. And no one would connect her back to that poor Scottish thatcher’s daughter. She would have finally, truly, remade herself.

The slamming of a distant door brought her back to herself with a start. She had no idea how long she had been standing there, hand on the spine of Paradise Lost as she dreamed of the future she wanted so desperately. Quickly, she snatched the book and hid it under her shawl, shifting the other books around it just enough to hide the space that was left by it. Of course, with so many guests in the house it would be assumed that one of them had it if anyone noticed it was gone. But you could never be too careful. After all, the best kept secrets were the ones no one could even imagine were there.

#task001:secrets #hc #self #once again this got long #but sam is just so fun

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