#I GENUINELY STARTED CRYING LIKE ACTUALLY I SWEAR TO GOD IM NOT EVEN JOKING IM NOT PROUD OF IT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

Text

“your turn”

Harry Styles was a romantic. He hated weddings. Rori Williams was practical. She hated weddings, too. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue.

A story of two semi-strangers to lovers with weddings, drunken confessions, and girls with two names.

gif has nothing to do with it but he looks fancy and i like it :) tpwk

Hi! this is for @meetmeinfleetwood to lovers fic challenge! and it’s a little cruel of me to post it today after those wedding pics came out but i have been working on this for awhile and tomorrow’s the deadline so if it’s too soon im sorry and if its just what you need enjoy! I used prompts 12 and 15! It’s my first ofc story which is a little strange for me but i wanted to use a name for this, but besides her hair and eye color and a name she’s pretty generic,,, idk thank you all for always reading and all of that. lmk what you think and reblogs are always really appreciated

Word Count: 9.3k | Warnings: drinking, swearing, implied? smut (couldn’t bring my heart to write any my apologies), harry being a silly drunk, mentions of being afraid of someone taking advantage of someone under the influence but ofc no! actual any misconduct -- a SITCH wedding!!! so cute ::))

Harry Styles was a romantic.

He loved love songs that professed their undying love for their significant other. He loved romance movies, rom coms especially, because they were happy and in love and he got to cry and laugh all in one. He loved writing his own songs about love and he loved spreading the idea of loving and treating others with kindness. He loved first dates and the relationships that sometimes sprouted out of them. He loved reading books about love and how to make it last. He loved poetry that waxed eloquent about love. He loved love.

He hated weddings.

Well, he hadn’t always hated weddings. In the beginning, they were like every other aspect of love, he loved them. But slowly, as he kept receiving announcements of engagement and wedding invitations and he kept not sending out letters of his own, his aversion grew.

Sure, he still loved going. He still wept for the happy couples when they committed themselves to each other. He still clapped profusely and danced to the dj or live band. He still tried to enjoy it. But with weddings he had a nagging sense in the back of his head reminding him that he still hadn’t found it yet. Each of his relationships had fallen short in some way as to not lead him to this destination. So when he sat at his assigned table at these various gatherings, he held a bit of apprehension, a bit of envy, about everything going on. He knew that his smiles were all a little forced and his laugh not quite genuine. His thoughts always managed to be controlled by his green-eyed monster that he always attempted to keep locked away. But at weddings, especially when the alcohol started flowing, he had a harder time controlling it.

Seeing all his friends getting together, getting married, and having children wore on him. Wore him thin more than he ever let on to anyone but his therapist. And his therapist couldn’t seem to give him a better answer than to be patient and not give up hope.

By 2021, Harry had decided that maybe he was just meant to be alone. Love was something he could admire, but it wasn’t meant for him. He could chase it, but it would never let him have it. He was unlucky in love and by Sarah and Mitch’s wedding in the Spring, he had come to terms with it.

He had even been optimistic for it, being Mitch’s Best Man and all had gotten his hopelessly romantic heart all aflutter. He was introduced to Sarah’s Maid of Honor, Renee Williams and she had been lovely. She was 31, a little older than Harry - but age wasn’t something that deterred him, and she had worked with Sarah in Los Angeles before Harry recruited Sarah for the band. They were best of friends and Sarah had known for a long time that Renee would be her Maid of Honor.

When Harry met Renee, he was sure that she was meant to be his person. She was beautiful and hilarious, her beauty mark at the side of her lip was so utterly unique he called her a “right Marilyn”. She insisted she was not a Marilyn Monroe type at all and had laughed. Harry had charmed her with his expert flirting and claimed that just because she was a brunette didn’t mean she was a Marilyn. She had smiled and bantered through the rehearsal dinner with him at her side. He was entranced, it had to be Renee, he had been so sure of it.

When Renee had walked down the aisle just before Sarah, Harry had been sure of it. When Renee had smiled at Harry as Mitch slipped on Sarah’s wedding band, Harry had been sure of it. When he had hooked his arm around hers as they walked down the aisle and into a foyer, Harry had been sure of it. When she laughed at his jokes while they waited for their wedding party photos to be taken, Harry had been sure of it.

When Renee walked up to Harry at the reception with another man wrapped around her, Harry wasn’t so sure of it anymore.

“Harry, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Corey,” Renee smiles giddily between the two men.

Harry’s eyes widen slightly at the word ‘boyfriend’ and he swallows harshly before blinking and putting on a sweet smile. He thrusts his right hand out for Corey to shake.

“Hullo, mate,” Harry says happily.

Corey greets Harry, extending his hand to meet Harry’s with a warm smile and a “how are you”. Harry laughs boisterously and takes a sip of his champagne flute. They shake hands with a firm up and down motion.

“Planning on getting really drunk,” Harry says in response to Corey’s question. “Have a great night, you two,” he finishes and stalks off for a refill.

Renee watches him go with a little bit of a confused look on her face. She sees him tilt his head back and finish his drink before turning to face her boyfriend and peck his cheek. She mumbles to him, “He’s a really nice guy, wouldn’t stop chatting my ear off the past few days. All these people must make him antsy.”

He nods back to her, “They must.”

Harry sidles up to the open bar, discarding his empty flute and exchanging it for a much stronger drink.

“Tequila. Neat...Please.” He sighs and runs a hand through his curls that are slowly becoming less and less coiffed. His fingers slide to the collar of his shirt and tug, attempting to loosen it a little.

“Rough night already?” Someone asks from beside him.

His face turns to them and sees a smiling brunette. Her eyes are big, larger than most eyes he’s come across. They’re brown with tinges of gold and green, likely making them hazel by her standard since most people prefer saying hazel eyes to brown. Her smile is bright and clean and if Harry hadn’t already heard her speak he would assume she was American from that smile. It was perfect, too perfect - the teeth both straight and blindingly white.

He raises his eyebrows at her and thinks about his response. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them parted, but he remains silent when the bartender hands him his tequila. Harry wraps a specifically less ringed hand tonight, he had forgone his ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings as well as the rest of them actually on his left hand. His right hand still had two: the large flashing lavender gemstone encrusted in a gold casing from Stevie Nicks on his middle finger and then a clean gold signet ring with little crosses on the sides on the adjacent ring finger. Every other finger was noticeably empty. So when he picks up the glass there is no familiar clink which draws the attention of himself.

The woman doesn’t pay any attention to his hand, she’s still waiting for him to respond to her question, as well as waiting for her other drink to be made. She was taking advantage of the two drink system and getting two for herself right now, so she didn’t have to come back until much later.

“You have no idea,” is how Harry decides to respond and then turns to leave. He forgets about the woman and sits at his assigned table for his entire drink, talking casually with the people who come to speak with him.

When he's finished, he goes back to the bar to order a second tequila. He thinks about the girl who had stared at him with her big brown eyes. How she had seen him and thought to ask how his night was when it seemed to be going to shit. And how he had blown her off with barely a glance. God, he could be such a prick. After he receives his drink, he forgets yet again and continues to drown his sorrows in the golden liquid that helps him numb the pain that he had once again missed out on his fairytale love story.

The girl Harry had run into sat in the corner of the ballroom for the majority of the night. She settled on just having that first round of drinks for herself and one glass of obligatory champagne during the toasts. Other than that, she had promised herself she wouldn’t get drunk and go off with a random stranger. This was not a wedding for that. This wedding couldn’t be for that. She just needed to keep her head low and try to have a semi-pleasant time.

When she was nursing her champagne through the toasts, the man at the bar caught her eye again. She knew who he was. He was the Best Man after all. Sarah talked about him a lot, even Renee after the past few days, but seeing him at the bar had been the first time she’d ever seen him up that close. It was strange, he was so human. So tangible in that moment. His shoulders shook with each breath he took. His fingers tapped as they waited for his drink. His green eyes blinked and darted around as he took in his surroundings and even looked at her. He simply was and it had startled her to see him in a slightly bewildered state at the bar, but again, she wasn’t one to judge.

Get through the wedding. Try to have a semi-pleasant time.

It was time for the Best Man’s speech. Renee had just given the Maid of Honor’s and now Harry was up. He stood up and wavered a little as he tried to stand up straight. The neat tequila likely makes his stance a little harder to maintain. Mitch looks up at Harry at his side and smiles fondly.

Harry raises one hand in an awkward wave while the other is planted firmly on the table.

“Hullo,” he starts, “I’m Harry and I’m the Best Man, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

The entire group of guests laugh wholeheartedly, taken by the talented young man.

“To start,” he stutters, his words slurring slightly from the alcohol he’s had, and his smile slithers into a smirk. “Let’s hear it for the bride and groom, the lovely Sarah and Mitch Jones!”

Queue the laughter again. Harry laughs too when Mitch slaps his arm playfully, he turns to look at him with a mock ‘what did I do wrong’ expression.

“I had a speech written out, took a week to write, made it nice and poetic for these two lovebirds, but it seems I’ve misplaced it,” he pats at his pockets and sighs before rubbing his forefinger at his bottom lip. “I hate weddings.”

Everyone laughs again, thinking he’s joking. Harry grimaces but it passes as a smile even though she can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes.

He rambles on for a few minutes about love and commitment, how this is just the beginning for Sarah and Mitch and everyone laughs at the appropriate times and just when he’s wrapping up, successfully stumbling through his messy mind, everyone begins to clap.

“To the happy couple…” queue applause, but she sees him say something else, it’s drowned out by the crowd cheering and clinking glasses again.

He sits back down, downing his champagne glass that’s been refilled twice already during the speeches. Mitch leans over and whispers something in Harry’s ear as he twists a hand through his hair. Harry shifts away from Mitch and gives him a look, telling Mitch that he’s fine.

The party goes on, a few more speeches, a few more glasses of champagne for Harry, a few more sighs from the girl in the back of the room.

She watches the first dance of Mitch and Sarah but once that part is over she slinks off. She’s got half a drink left and all she wants is to be alone. Tired of the party, tired of the people, tired of having to try to have a good time. The Rowland-Jones Party had rented the entire place out, so she wanders out of the main room and down a hallway until the music is a faint buzz in her ear. The air grows colder as the amount of people dwindles from over a hundred to one.

There’s a door to her right that has an intricate golden handle that she pulls down on. It opens quietly onto a similar ballroom that is slightly smaller than the one the party was going on in. It’s quiet and spacious, her steps echo as she enters on heeled feet. The clicking of her satin stilettos resonate against the linoleum. She walks to the center of the room and turns around herself, lifting her head to the light in the room. An ornate chandelier is still above her, it’s the same gold as the handle that let her in. Her eyes travel to the walls that contain swirls of gold as well, everything was encrusted in gold and splotchy vintage mirrors. It was beautiful and she saw herself in the reflection of one of those splotchy vintage mirrors and actually felt beautiful in that moment.

No one else saw her but herself and she thought she was beautiful, a fleeting thought as she watched her body move. No one to watch as her reflection swayed with her. Her lavender dress swished back and forth, the end of it brushing around her ankles. The tulle fabric climbed her torso, cinching at her waist and draping over her breasts. The sleeves fluttered over her shoulders and ended midway down her upper arm. The somewhat sheer material made her tan skin look all the more carmely in the golden light of the chandelier. Her pendant necklace was silver and glinted in the light as it sat evenly over her exposed clavicle and decolletage.

In the corner opposite of the door there was a single table with three chairs. It seemed whoever was meant to put things away had grown tired and left these out. She wasn’t complaining as she crossed the floor to take a seat. It was the perfect escape. It was quiet and not too cold in the room, which was especially nice since she had left her jacket in the coat room. What wasn’t so nice is that her phone had died and she had nothing to do in the room. It wasn’t horrible though, she had wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She just feared what would happen if she sat alone too long with no escape of the internet to drown those thoughts.

That contemplation was squashed with an unwitting solution not ten minutes later. She had been sitting at the table, sipping her drink occasionally and staring at the chandelier. Sighing with content that it was finally silent beside the clink of her melting ice cubes. The house mixed drink was strong, but with each passing second it grew more and more diluted. She considered herself completely sober.

She only questioned that when she noticed a second person in the room. She hadn’t heard them open the door, but she heard their loud footsteps shortly after.

He all but stumbled in and was entranced by the chandelier like she had been. He walks to the center in a similar fashion and twists around, only this time his balance isn’t as good as hers. He ends up on his ass, legs splayed in front of him and hands behind him only cushioning his fall a little. He lets out a huff, “Fuck.” He runs a hand over his face before bringing it down to look around the room again. His eyes are foggy with alcohol, everything hazy and slightly blurry. It feels like he’s moving with superspeed but as she watches him with a tilted head she wonders why he’s moving so slowly.

He squints while looking around after a moment, running a hand through his thoroughly tousled hair. His tongue comes to wet his lips, but this time it's for a touch too long like he’s genuinely tasting the liquor on them. She raises her brows, observing him, her presence seemingly unknown.

“Oi, you!” He slurs the words and points lazily at her reclined in her chair. “Are you real?”

She half smiles and replies with a simple ‘yes’.

“I like your dress,” he says merely like he was stating a fact rather than giving a compliment. His hair falling into his eyes again despite him just pushing it back.

“Thanks.”

He makes his way to standing, his process rather ungraceful. He twists onto his hands and knees and begins to push himself up. He slips once before making it to full standing, he sways slightly and looks around again like he’s forgotten why he stood up. His eyes land on her again and he decides to make his way over to the table.

“You should probably sit,” she says, watching him splay his arms around him to keep his balance. She had seen him an hour and a half ago and he seemed fine, but now he seemed absolutely and utterly pissed.

“Thanks, mum,” he says as he thunks into the seat beside her, his hand waving off her suggestion.

Her brows raise at the slightly rude comment, but she leans back in her seat still observing him.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She asks once he’s settled and has his head propped up with one of his hands. She takes a sip of her drink as she watches him scan her face again, trying to see if he recognizes her.

His mind must come up empty, a vague memory of the bar slipping away without a second thought.

“It was a joke,” he shrugs.

“No it wasn’t,” she replies easily.

His eyes narrow and he leans forward a little shakily, “Who are you?”

“Aurora.” She licks at her own lips, a stray bit of liquid lingering on her lips.

“That’s a Disney princess name,” he says, unconvinced, how most drunk people were when you told them the truth.

“And my great-grandmother’s and mine,” she responds, a grin playing on her lips as she watches him think it over. “It’s wild how multiple people can have the same name. Did you know people can share a last name as well?”

He leans back in his chair now, unhappy with her snarky response.

“Isn’t that why we’re here, two people joining together and sharing the same last name now?” He threads his fingers as he speaks, mimicking something coming together.

“Yep,” She perks at the question he poses. “You still didn’t answer my question.” Her brows raise once playfully.

“What?” Harry seemed to have lost the plot, his fuzzy drunken brain choosing to forget the first thing she asked him while in this private ballroom of theirs.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She repeats, louder and with emphasis, the words echoing this time.

“Oh,” he looks up to the ceiling and blows air past his lips harshly, “S’ a long story.”

“We got all night,” she offers, and raises her glass to her lips once again.

“A night wouldn’t even cover half of it,” he ponders seriously, his mind reeling. “I’d rather talk about you.”

“Why me?” She laughs like she’s just received the most delightful surprise.

“Because,” He starts and then sits quiet for a moment before leaning forward, elbows on the table as he peers at her, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“You only just met me,” she responds. “Not to mention, you’re drunk as fuck, Best Man. Just minutes ago I watched you stumble in here and truly fall on your ass.”

“Then tell me about yourself and I’ll explain my hatred for weddings.”

“You’re awfully good at bargaining for being this inebriated.”

“I never lose my charm, no matter how pissed I may be,” he smirks and gives a sloppy wink, hair falling in his face yet again.

She scoffs, but she is rather amused and intrigued by the man beside her. His tie now completely loosened, hair falling every which way, and his green eyes set on her. The shiny shoes he wore slipped around on the ground as he shuffled his feet below him like a child wanting to go play. She figured it was just his drunk brain trying to amuse himself or something. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue. She at least had to entertain the foolish notion that maybe he actually was interested in getting to know her. If anything, it would help pass the time until she could go home.

“I’ll bite,” she relents.

The smirk doesn’t leave his face, it only widens, “Only if I can, too.”

“I wasn’t saying-”

“Shush, sh-sh-shush. I know that,” he holds a hand up at her, trying to get her to be quiet. He sways again, even in his seat he looks as if he could fall over at any moment. She wondered if he might not remember this tomorrow. “I was bein’...” he licks his lips in a pause, “suggestive.”

She laughs again, knowing his sober brain probably would have chosen a more articulate and suave word since ‘suggestive’ was rather tactless and more straight to the point. If she learned anything from all the conversations she overhead about him, Harry was definitely one for tact.

“You were something, that’s for sure,” she wraps a hand around Harry’s wrist, she draws the hand down from its hovering state and lays it against the table again. She withdraws her own hand back to her glass, her drink almost completely gone now.

He smiles, pleased with himself, but unaware that his charms had worn off with his exorbitant amount of alcohol consumed. At least on this girl they weren’t working. She had never been attracted to people who were too drunk to help themselves and she always hoped that’s how others felt too. She was thankful he had stumbled in on her rather than someone who didn’t feel the same way. It made her sick to think of what someone with evil intentions might do if they came across a babbling drunken version of Harry. Pushing those thoughts away since that wasn’t the case, she decided to pat his hand once just in reassurance to herself and him that this was really happening.

“I’m twenty-five.” She states.

Harry nods, a small smile on his lips now rather than a smirk as he watches her again. He liked how smoothly she moved rather than the rest of the world in his drunken eyes, everything else was choppy and fast. She was elegant and fluid, calming even.

“I love love,” Harry says, eyes remaining on hers, no trace of a joke in his tone, “And it hates me.”

“That can’t be true,” she squints at him, a frown gracing her face for a moment at the sadness she sees in his watery eyes. Not crying watery, just watery from his drunken state.

He says nothing, waiting for her to offer more information about herself before he says anything else. This was the deal after all. She quickly realizes why he isn’t responding and sighs, conversation with drunks was tedious already, but Harry seemed determined to make it even harder.

“I’m from California.”

“They always are,” Harry mutters to himself. He ignores her hum of a question, asking what he just said with a simple sound. “All my friends, they’re either getting married or they’re already married and got kids on the way or whatever. They all found love and I’m just here with fuck all.”

She sincerely doubts what the drunken man is telling her right now, but she knows how to play the game now to get more information. “I hate my job,” she states.

“Sometimes I feel like I'm cursed, like I fucked up one too many times and now I’m doomed to never find love.”

Her eyes widen at this, he sounds so damn sad and she wishes she could take his pain away. She knew what a good guy and she couldn’t imagine why he would deserve to feel this way. No one deserved to feel like they weren’t worthy of love. His sad state truly almost brought her to tears. She’s there in a stunned silence and Harry is confused why she hasn’t said anything more about herself. It was her turn.

“What’s something else about you?” He asks, his hand fiddling with itself on the table. She notices once again that there aren’t as many rings on his fingers as what she thought was usual.

She licks her lips and reaches her hand forward. She grasps Harry’s fiddling hand and stops his movement. “I feel sorry that you feel this way, no one deserves the kind of pain you’re inflicting on yourself. I’m very very sorry for you, Harry.”

“That’s not really…” He trails off, losing his focus on her face and instead looking at their hands touching. The feeling is so intense in his buzzing body. Her touch was so calming compared to the electric feeling in his body. It felt nice.

“Can I ask you a different question and then I’ll tell you something no one knows about me?”

He nods eagerly.

“And you can’t dodge the question, you really have to answer it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What did you say at the end of your speech? It got drowned out by applause, but I saw you say something.”

“You noticed?” He asks kind of surprised, then scratches at his eyebrow. He sees her slight glare and knows to get to his answer. “Asked when it’d be my turn…like to fall in love, y’know.”

She sighs, saddened yet again by his words. “Okay, well, here’s my secret... I hate weddings, too.”

Harry’s eyes light up, maybe he really was in love. She purses her lips and pulls back from him.

“I think you’re my soulmate,” he breathes out, again making a false confession. His drunken brain wants it to be true. He’s desperate for his search to be over, for her to be his person.

She smiles that same sad smile that she keeps getting when he says these sad things to her.

“I assure you, I am not, Best Man.”

He looks at her confusedly. She was beautiful, she was clarity to him. Her brown hair was straight with a little wave in it, like it was straightened for the occasion but never truly that way otherwise. It flowed around her head and shoulders, but she had it tucked behind both ears. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, she just simply was beautiful. Her sun tanned skin looked soft under the golden glow and Harry was sure she was an angel or something.

“Why not?” He insists, leaning forward.

She stands up from her seat. He follows clumsily behind her, standing as well. He was still taller than her even in her high heels. He smiled like a lovesick child down at her, his eyes as big as the moon. She bites at her lip as she sees him look at her so lovingly, so misguidedly. Then she leans up towards his face, up on her tiptoes and past his lips. Her hands hold him straight with them curled in his suit’s lapels. She presses a sweet and gentle kiss to his cheek, closer to his jaw than anything.

“Good night, Harry,” she whispers against his skin before pulling away.

His eyes flutter open, his looks at her confusedly, slightly unaware that he had closed his eyes at all.

“Good night…” He had already forgotten her name, something with an A...or was it an O? He’d have to ask Sarah and Mitch about the girl who had talked to him in the empty golden ballroom, the girl he had fallen in love with. He was certain. She was the one - if only he could find out her name. If he remembered this at all or if he just thought it was a dream.

She leaves the room before him and as she leaves she wonders if she maybe should have made sure he was alright, but she figured their talk was sobering enough. The night was ending and she had a sneaking suspicion that there were plenty of people here tonight looking out for him.

Harry forgot about the girl in the ballroom. Or at least he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or reality. He had woken up at Tom’s place where he had said he would stay after the wedding reception so he hadn’t gone home with a girl. He couldn’t remember her name so he couldn’t really ask anyone about her and he didn’t exactly have a lot of people he could ask. He wanted to ask Sarah and Mitch, but they were already off on their honeymoon and he was one of those people who would never bother a couple on their honeymoon. He was too embarrassed to ask Renee and anyone else for that matter.

So, instead, he forgot. Harry forgot about her for three weeks until Sarah and Mitch returned. He had called them for a hike and lunch the moment their plane had landed. He had missed some of his best friends. It was a lull in the year, where he wasn’t touring or in the studio, just living and writing when he felt like it. So maybe he was in need of some inspiration.

“Ah! The Jones’!” He exclaims as he walks up to their parked car at the head of the trail.

Sarah laughs and Mitch rolls his eyes, half-heartedly since he’s just as happy to see Harry as Harry is to see him.

“I missed you,” Mitch says as he brings Harry in for a hug.

“Don’t let the missus hear that,” Harry tuts while he sends a wink over Mitch’s shoulder to Sarah.

“It’s all he could talk about for the past few weeks,” Sarah jokes as she goes in for a hug with Harry. “How do you think Harry is? Hope he’s eating? I miss Harry.” She mimics Mitch’s voice.

Mitch shakes his head shyly, a smile spreading on his face after a moment. “That. Is not true at all,” he assures Harry, “But you do look a little thinner. What have you been eating?”

Harry elbows him with a grin, “I’m fine. Been bored so I’ve just been filling the time with working out.”

They start their ascent up the hill and into the canyon. Mitch nods, his worry for his friend subsiding momentarily before he says something strange.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, but you’ve been gone, about a girl at the wedding.”

“Oh?” Sarah gives Mitch a knowing look.

“Yeah, well the thing is, I’m not sure if she was real or not. I think she was real, but I was so drunk, there’s so many bits missing in my memory.”

Sarah and Mitch both laugh. “You were very drunk, H,” Mitch confirms.

Harry ignores him, “I even asked her if she was real and she said yes, but y’know people can lie in dreams. All I remember is she was amazing and she had a princess name, I think.”

Sarah thinks about the guest list. “No princess names that I can think of. What did she look like?”

Harry squints ahead of them, his sunglasses pushing his curls back on the top of his head. “She had straight brown hair, not long or short. She said she was, uh, twenty-five. She was in lavender, I think.”

“You think a lot,” Mitch interjects which earns him a glare from Harry.

Harry thinks about this part that he remembered vividly, how she had been so confident that he wasn’t. He adds, “...And I told her I was in love with her.”

“Oh god, Harry,” Sarah sighs.

Mitch gives Harry an apologetic smile.

“She didn’t buy it, but she didn’t run off either. We talked for awhile.”

“Maybe it was a dream,” Sarah says.

“Okay, let’s see,” Mitch grows to be the leader of the investigation, wanting everything for his best friend to find the love he knew he deserved. “Twenty-five year old brunettes at our wedding who are single. C’mon there weren't that many people there.”

Sarah thinks about it again. “Renee’s sister is twenty-five. I don’t remember what she was wearing, I hardly saw her all night,” she pauses, “Which is strange since she wasn’t on the job for once.”

“What do you mean ‘on the job’?” Harry asks curiously, remembering his girl saying she hated her job.”

“She’s a wedding planner,” Sarah says, glancing at him because she was almost sure that Renee’s sister was not who Harry was talking about. “But she had referred me to someone else for the wedding, she consulted sometimes and got us a discount, but said she didn’t like working with people she knew personally.”

Harry nodded, how could Renee’s sister be his girl? How could a wedding planner hate weddings? And wouldn’t it be all the more awkward if the girl was Renee’s sister? Renee’s little sister, could it be? He had no clue.

“I don’t think it’s her, though,” Sarah gives a half-smile, “She’s not super...uh, how do I say this?”

As Sarah says “touchy-feely,” Mitch interjects.

“She’s pretty cold-hearted. She’s relatively nice, but what makes her such a good wedding planner is she doesn’t get caught up in the sentimentality of it, she just understands other people’s emotions and knows how to make them feel amazing.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Sarah looks at Mitch with a strong glare. After all, he was talking about her best friend’s little sister.

“Well, what’s her name?” Harry insists, semi-off put, but knowing her secret made him think it was possible for Renee’s sister and his ballroom girl to be the very same.

“Rori Williams, think it’s short for something else, but I don’t know, as long as I’ve known her she goes by Rori.” Sarah gives Harry a sad smile and it reminds him of his mystery girl.

“Do you think I could meet her or something? I just want to know if it’s her.” Harry says as they reach the first peak on their hike. He looks out at the view from there, Los Angeles was green for once, but he knew it would quickly fade to brown and tan as the spring plants died off again from the summer heat.

“Pretty sure she’s off working on some destination wedding right now. She doesn’t like being bothered when she’s working,” Sarah gives Harry a look for two reasons as she says that. One, because she knows his next question would be to contact her anyway. And two, she’s saying how he is exactly the same, hates being contacted when he’s busy with work. “I can text Renee to see what’s up.”

Harry nods, “Please…” He begins to imagine Rori as his ballroom girl and mutters to himself, “A June Wedding…” getting lost in a silly little daydream.

“Harry Styles is asking after you,” Renee snickers over the cellphone line.

“What is this? The 1800s?” Rori sighs, as she holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder. She tries to brush her hair from her face with a flick of her head, which makes for a rather silly sight as her head and shoulder move awkwardly. “People don’t ‘ask after’ anyone anymore.”

She was in Hawaii, Maui specifically, steaming a sneaky last crinkle out of the latest bride’s wedding veil.

“Well, he still is doing it. You know how he is.”

“I actually don’t,” Rori responds, easily, ignoring the memories of her two encounters with him. “What does he want?”

“Wants to meet you or something,” Renee says easily. “Thinks he met you at Sarah’s wedding, obviously impossible since I know you scampered off half way through the reception and he was falling down drunk at the half way marker as well…” she trails off.

Rori knows her sister well and expects the next thing to come out of Renee’s mouth.

“Oh my god! Did you hook up with him?!”

Expecting this, Rori responds quickly and calmly, “No, we did not hook up, I would never... I did watch him fall on his ass, though.”

“So it was you!”

“What was me?” Rori squints her eyes at her sister over the phone and finally straightens from her steaming task. She feels like she’s only half paying attention to the conversation, especially since she had no intention of meeting up with Harry. He had been so sweet and sad, and she truly wished him the best, but she knew she wasn’t the answer to his problem.

“You!” Renee all but yells into the phone, “Are his dream girl! He’s been wondering if you were even real for weeks.”

“I’m real,” Rori sighs and crosses the room she’s in to sit at the desk she was using as a work space. She flicks through the planner she was using for the Hearst wedding, set to take place tomorrow. “But I’m certainly not his dream girl...I told him that when he said he was in love with me.”

“He what?!” Renee exclaims and hears her sister sigh once again, she knows Rori is growing tired of the conversation and is ready to offer an excuse to hang up any moment now. “Nevermind that, I’m going to tell Sarah to give him your number and the date you get back to Los Angeles. Keep next weekend clear.”

Before Rori can open her strawberry pink lips to reply, Renee is squealing a goodbye and hanging up. She felt her shoulders sag with the empty line, she reclined into the nicely plush swivel chair. This is why she stayed out of love and relationships when they didn’t relate to work, they were exhausting. Too much ‘he said, she said’ going on at all times. Color palettes, seating arrangements and menus were simple, they made sense, they could be arranged and put into place. Relationships were messy, the actual event of a wedding could even be messy, but when she planned them out, for a single moment everything was orderly and simple. She was in control. She knew she couldn’t be Harry’s dream girl because she knew she couldn’t control that situation.

Upon arriving back in the continental United States, at the end of June, Rori ubered immediately to her apartment in Silverlake. Well, it was a converted garage behind a house of a friend of Renee’s. Like most apartments in Los Angeles, it was funky, but it was Rori’s until she decided where she wanted to move. She never wanted to buy in LA and she never wanted to upgrade from the place she had called home for the past four years.

Almost immediately after dropping her pink work tote bag and worn backpack on the floor next to her medium sized navy suitcase, her phone rang through the ‘Do Not Disturb’ setting with an unknown number. A New York number. Possibly a new client, she picks up quickly and shuts the window-paned door behind her. The days were long, the longest day of the year had almost arrived, yet the sun was still beginning to set in the sky and turn the light blue into a painting of oranges pinks and purples.

“Hello?”

“Is Rori Williams there?” A British voice asks, almost timidly.

“Who’s asking?”

“...Harry.”

“I was told you’d be calling or something along those lines,” she smiles to herself.

Harry sat in his room, chewing at his lip, still unsure if the voice on the other side of the phone call was the woman he had talked to previously.

“Can we go for a drink sometime? How’s tomorrow?”

“Someone is quite enthusiastic.”

“It’s just...I’m trying to figure something out.”

“So I’ve heard,” she chuckles slightly.

“So you won’t tell me whether you’re the girl I talked to at Sarah and Mitch’s wedding will you?”

“What would be the fun in that?”

“So it’s a right Cinderella, if the shoe fits situation,” he mumbles, slightly to himself, but she hears him clearly.

She laughs.

“I don’t really care for Cinderella, I’m not really one for Disney princesses at all, actually.”

His breath catches, a foggy memory of something having to do with princesses tries to break into his mind. He couldn’t remember still and he vowed time and time again that he would never get that drunk again. Too much time lost.

“Alright, Harry. I’ve just gotten home from a work trip so I’m planning on a bath, some wine, and some terribly raunchy TV to get my mind off of my life. How about you pick a time and a place for drinks and hopefully I will show up? Great! Goodnight.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, just clicks the red button that hangs up the phone and goes on with her professed plans. Harry sits in stunned silence for a few moments, whatever he had gotten himself into was going to be a ride of a lifetime.

At a quarter past six, Harry sits anxiously at the bar top of a semi casual, semi fancy, totally cool bar he loved. It was private so he wouldn’t be bombarded with people, but it was still lively enough that it wouldn’t be dead silent if conversation lulled between him and Rori. That is, if she showed up.

His foot begins to tap, ever so persistently against the silver footrest at the bottom of the bar. His eyes shift from right to left, not wanting to order a drink before she arrives, but also not wanting to wait much longer and not order a drink. He’d waived off the bartender twice already.

She walks in, right on time, Harry had just arrived early. Her lips part into a happy smile at his anxious stance at the bar, he mirrors her expression at the sight of her.

She’s wearing a billowy white button down, the sleeves cinching perfectly at her petite wrists, cinched beneath a brown corset-like tank top. Her breasts showed their true size today in this outfit. She had the collar pulled out and the corset made it so that her cleavage was perfectly sculpted just beneath the crisp white cloth. Her pants were sleek and black, understated to draw more of a focus to her top as well as the lavender jewel inlaid pendant hanging just above the swells of her breast. Harry’s eyes dipped to that level for a moment, but quickly recovered to focus on her face. The night of the wedding had been blurry, but he was sure Rori’s face was the one of his mystery girl.

He’s shy tonight and a little more reserved than last time. He’s out of his comfortable bubble, what could anyone expect from a man so constantly watched. He fidgets with the top most button of his shirt that was buttoned and thinks about unbuttoning it to reveal a little more of his chest, but he refrains. At a friend’s wedding he feels safe, but in public he’s always watching, always aware of the possible prying eye. But like he had said drunkenly to Rori, he always maintained his charm, no matter the circumstances.

“Lavender was gorgeous on you, but this…” he gives a graceful sweep of his hand to gesture at her outfit tonight, “is extremely enchanting.”

“So you remember me in lavender? I thought you couldn’t remember me at all.” She grins as she stands directly beside him, similar to the first time they had chatted at a bartop.

Harry clears his throat at her tease, “I knew once I laid eyes on you, I would know. So now I know.”

She smirks at his reasoning and orders a vodka cranberry, both not wanting to get off her ass or look any certain way. Vodka cranberries were acceptable mature drinks, but not overly pretentious in any way. Harry tells the bartender to make it two. She looks at him with a discerning eye.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” She asks as she slides into the bar seat that seems to be trying to look vintage but was likely made no less than five years ago.

Harry sits too, more easily since his legs are longer than hers. “We met in the ballroom for the first time, did we not?”

“No...we met at the bar in the reception room.” Her hand splays to feel the stone of this counter, cold unlike the wood of the previous one. “We were about this close after you’d rudely stepped ahead of me and ordered before I could...not that you noticed. I asked if you were having a rough night and you pretty much dismissed me.” She bites her lip as she tells him the story, her eyes widen as she watches the distress roll over his features at what she says.

“Oh god,” One of his hands reaches to grab her hand to emphasize his apology, “I’m so sorry, that’s so rude. I was having quite a rough night as you would eventually see.”

He stares at her face, trying to meet her eyes, but she’s glued to the sight of their hands intertwined. He was so smooth and it was making her melt, making the walls she had purposefully put up for this date weak. She had rules, especially for guys like Harry - not that there was anyone that compared to him in her life, but she had them and she knew she couldn’t just be swept off her feet by his sweet voice and gorgeous face that has the most puppy-dog look on it.

She knows she shouldn’t but the extra ice she had added to her personality melts away, her eyes going slightly moony as she watches him visibly relax again. “No worries, I enjoyed your company upon the second meeting, even if you didn’t even remember my name after it.”

“Well,” he finally catches her eye, “That’s where I have a bit of a bone to pick.”

“Oh?”

“You didn’t tell me your real name...gave me some fake name I can’t even remember, but it certainly wasn’t…” His eyes shift to her pendant again and he looks back at her brassy eyes in the bar’s lighting. “If your name is Rori Williams, why is your pendant an ‘A’?” He says slowly, another foggy memory trying to break the surface of his knowledge but still failing.

She finally feels in control of the situation, calm and assured of herself, which was maybe unfair since it seemed Harry really had a hard time remembering that night and she could really fuck with him if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t - couldn’t - with those earnest eyes looking at her.

“I told you my real name the first time we talked, Harry. It’s Aurora,” she retracts her hand from beneath his grasp and touches at the necklace, “I go by Rori both socially and professionally, but officially it’s Aurora and this had been my great-grandmother’s. I don’t go anywhere without it.”

“Almost as beautiful as its wearer,” he smirks, his gaze stuck on her face, attempting to convey something specific. She thinks she knows what he’s saying with his look.

“You’re quite the flirt,” she rolls her eyes playfully before specifically choosing to take a sip of her drink through the little straw the bartender had put in it. It draws Harry’s attention to her lips, and after a moment they were wet with a bit of excess vodka cranberry and Harry felt himself grow a little hot at the tips of his ears when her eyes meet with his. She had caught him staring, but he recovers easily.

“I remember telling you I never lose my charm, it’s true is it not?” Harry inquires, head leaning closer to her as he takes a sip of his own drink, making a show to lick his lips after removing them from the edge of the lowball glass.

Her laughter is loud but not overbearing, Harry thinks it’s the best laugh he’s ever heard even if she’s laughing at him. She’s true in that laugh, she’s not trying to make him fall for her with that laugh, it’s just her enjoying herself.

She responds with something sweet and the two begin the back and forth of a successful date. They both drink around three drinks as the night persists, but it’s enough for her to feel the burning pull inside the pit of her belly for Harry. His hands stay relatively to himself besides a few subtle touches at her hair and hands every so often, his feet are the ones to blame. At one point in the night, he hooks his loafer covered foot around her ankle and she is quick to lean into it, reciprocating the footsie with ease. Each brush of his leg against hers is electrifying, every nerve in her body was beginning to go crazy. She was buzzing in a way that she hadn’t when she had first encountered Harry. Tonight he was more suave, but with a tinge of timidness that made him irresistible.

Harry made sure he wouldn’t get drunk tonight, ordering only as much as Rori. He didn’t want to be the fool who couldn’t remember their time together, again. Plus, he didn’t want to forget any of their time together, he wanted to remember it all. Everything about her was amazing, the feeling he had about her, the nagging desire to meet her was for a reason, he was sure of it. If her voice was a melody, then she was the most beautiful love song he had ever heard.

At 11:30, he leans in close to Rori, his nose brushing at the hair tucked at her ear and asks her if she wants to leave. She looks at him confused, the warm feeling in her stomach falls because she thinks he wants to end the night.

“Oh,” she says dejected, she swore it was going well. “Right..That’s it.”

Harry’s brows crinkle at her sad face.

“No, love, I was saying,” he raises his brows, “Y’know.”

“Oh! Right! You just sounded so...I don’t know, serious.” She sinks in her seat, realizing her presumptions had been wrong.

“I was trying to be,” he twists his lips trying to find the word, as blush rises on his cheeks. “Seductive.”

The two of them are quickly realizing they can’t pretend with each other. Rori can’t keep up the harsh facade against love with him, he sees right through it. Harry can’t play his old tricks with her, she sees right through them.

She laughs again, “Well, it just sounded like you were bored. Sometimes your moves fall really flat.” She offers a sweet wink in consolation for his failed attempt at trying to really get her weak in the knees.

They were a lovesick mess together as they clambered off their bar seats and exit the bar that had gotten increasingly loud.

“So what’s next?” She asks on the warm summer night.

He steps closer and takes the liberty of fiddling with the strap of the corset she has on. His head is tilted down as he towers over her. “You know me Rori, I’m a hopeless romantic so I desperately want to take you out for dinner sometime and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but,” his breath fans over her face now as he shifts impossibly closer, “I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me. Just tell me what you’d prefer and it’s all yours.”

Her breathing has become a slight pant as his words wash over her. His nose brushes over the ridge of hers and she takes the moment to put her hands on his shoulders and pull him onto her. They were in the alleyway beside the bar, away from prying eyes except a few people too drunk to recognize Harry's face that is all but hidden in Rori.

“Harry,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering shut as she makes the decision to cross them into the point of no return. She wants this too much. She hadn’t thought this would be how her night would go, thought she would brush him off and never see him again, but god, she needed his warm body everywhere. Needed him to touch every part of her.

“Rori,” he responds.

“I want the second one first,” she whispers, feeling a little too eager, but feeling Harry press excitedly against her reassures her.

His lips press a searing kiss to her and she makes a sound of happiness at the contact. Her hands fist at the fabric of his shirt as she presses her lips feverishly back onto his. Harry’s quick to grip at the back of her neck and the small of her back, keeping her tight to him as he licks into her mouth.

“Can still taste that last vodka cran,” he notes before kissing her again.

Their tongues rub against each other, sloppily but with a tenderness hidden there as well. She snorts at his words which makes him smile and they’re kissing is becoming more silly as they try to contain their laughter. He pulls away, finally giving up trying to maintain the kiss while they both laughed.

“Would you like to come back to mine?” Harry asks as he leans his forehead against hers.

Rori’s eyes flicker open and stare into his, the focus only on his eyes and the sprinkle of light freckles and beauty marks below them. She nods her head, making his move with it. They both smile, trying to contain their laughter once more.

She presses her lips against his once more for a small peck and then lowers her head into the crook of his neck. The skin warm and smooth against hers as she whispers happily to him.

“It’s your turn now, Harry,” Rori says blissfully.

She had been the answer to all his questions.

#to lovers fic challenge #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

636 notes · View notes

s1utspeare · 4 years ago

Text

DMBJ Characters as Shakespeare Leads

I got into it in the notes of a moonfall echo post and now I’m going insane about what Shakespeare Characters each DMBJ person vibes the most with who do I blame for this

ANYWAY WELCOME TO MY LATEST NONSENSE THESE ARE MY PERSONAL OPINIONS AND ALSO BASED ENTIRELY ON VIBES ALONE

WU XIE as VIOLA from Twelfth Night

okay bear with me, I know this is a strong one coming right out the gate. But the GAY ENERGY. the ATTEMPTING TO BE SOMEONE THEY’RE NOT ALL THE TIME. the sheer amount of LOVE INSIDE. also this bitch spends SO much time in the series dressed up as other people like??? mans loves cosplaying except the cosplay is for Life and Death Situations. also the love triangles are hilarious. plus they’re both cute and gay and i love them

ZHANG QILING as CORIOLANUS from Coriolanus

did i choose these two because they’re arguably the hottest characters in each of their canon? maybe. also Cori Boy is the only one violent enough to even come CLOSE to xiao-ge’s deadly energy. I could have done Hamlet, who is the only other real Shakespearian swordsman, but Hamlet talks too much. also something about the desperation and side-switching that appeals to me. OH THEY BOTH HAVE GOOD TITS yeah that’s a good reason too

WANG PANGZI as THE FOOL from King Lear

okay before any of you come for me in the notes, the Fool is arguably the greatest Shakespearean character. They’re only CALLED the Fool cause it’s their job, but actually they’re the only one with any braincells in the play. Both start out as the archetypal comic relief character and then become the heart and soul of the story. The Fool makes a bunch of jokes and also prophesies the end and possibly is magic?? who’s to say. But anyway Pangzi also does all of those things and I feel like he should get to wear a funny hat. plus the Fool just has to deal with idiots trying to take his job by being clowns for free, and Pangzi can relate to that energy I think

LIU SANG as ARIEL from The Tempest

If it weren’t for just the SHEER amount of creepy magical energy they both exude, it’s the loyalty and sacrifice that does it for me. Not only are they both Ethereal Beings, there’s also a lot of sound ties to Ariel in The Tempest, so like it checks out. Plus they both Crouch. Also I just want Liu Sang to be able to smite some bitches sometimes. That would be good for him (it’s NOT because they’re both my favorite characters IT’S NOT)

Bai Haotian as Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream

So this is not only because i have a thing for casting women as Puck, but also because they fit so well together!! like. they both have crushes on people they perceive to be in authority! they both like being helpful! they both should get to be a little feral and also do magic! like Xiao Bai would be SUCH a cute Puck and if Wu Xie weren’t such a dumbass he’d make a good Oberon but alas. He is a Dumbass. so Xiao Bai is Puck but Wu Xie doesn’t get to be in Midsummer because he is simultaneously Too Dumb and Not Dumb Enough.

LI CU as PRINCE HAL from Henry IV Part I

sorry for more Tom Hiddleston pics but he’s genuinely like the best Shakespearian actor I’ve ever seen, and he’s done it all. Anyway Li Cu is Hal but specifically Hal from Part I because Part II isn’t as good and Hal is basically Dead when we get to Henry V so it has to be Part I. Anyway. Troubled youth who doesn’t want to do what his father wants so he basically gets kidnapped and raised by an older man who is full of Trickery and also Witty Remarks? The Best Friends Trios? The evolution into a Hero in Their Own Right? These guys are perfect for each other. Also I go feral about both of them at any given moment

A-NING as LADY MACBETH from Macbeth

YES I used A-Ning from Time Raiders because I think she’s the hottest version of A-Ning WHAT ABOUT IT. Anyway A-Ning could be no one other than the scheming girlboss Lady Macbeth. They’re both Morally Ambiguous but Fuck they look so good doing it. Can And Will manipulate literally any man into doing what they want. Su Nan was also a contender for Lady Macbeth because she resonates very strongly with the “Out, damned spot!” monologue, but she respects authority too much. A-Ning would not hesitate to kill the bitchass king of Scotland so that her family could ascend to the throne and I love that for her

ZHANG DADDY RISHAN as HAMLET from Hamlet

OKAY BEFORE ANYONE SAYS “brigid i know u chose them because ur a simp for zhang daddy rishan and ur a simp for hamlet stop being so predictable” LITERALLY NO ONE ELSE COULD DO IT THO??? LIKE??? ok they both are setting their life purpose on the bedrock of an older mentor figure’s death... they both have to deal with conspirators trying to usurp them... both the Ultimate Tragic Hero and Make Me Cry Every Damn Day... both are torn away from their nerd boyfriends by death... they both live in my head rent free... I know Zhang Daddy Rishan does not talk as much as Hammie Boy but I 100% think that there’s a CONSTANT monologue going on in his head at all times. Also the Am I A Coward speech? That’s our Daddy Rishan to the MAX. No one look at me or im gonna start making picsets of him with Hamlet quotes superimposed over it I swear to GOD

and finally....

WU SANXING as IAGO from Othello

Not only does this picture from the NTL production of Othello represent what I want to do to Sanshu every time I see him onscreen, but these bitches are two of The Fakest Hos I have ever come across. It’s a love-hate relationship with them most of the time; you hate them for what they’re doing to the heroes, but they’re so good at the Trickery that you can’t help but admire them for it a little bit. They can, have, and will sell their family members for a single Lick of Power and Wealth. And yeah, you could MAKE an argument for them to be Good or at the very least Morally Ambiguous but they’re both giant dicks and deep down in our hearts we all know it.

#so welcome to my hell #it's an ambiguous amalgamation of all of my interests and they only sort of interlap #anyway i have a lot of feelings about Shakespeare and a lot of feelings about DMBJ #if u have any questions or would like me to assign a different character a Shakespeare-sona #or would like me to assign YOU a Shakespeare-sona #please drop by my ask box #thank u and goodnight #dmbj #dmemebj #the lost tomb #billy shakes #i did not have to do this and yet

48 notes · View notes

foryoumyheroes · 4 years ago

Text

Kuroo’s S/O is a Phantom Thief

[Persona 5 x Haikyuu!!]

A/N: asdfgh I’m sorry Haikyuu has just been taking over every corner of my mind. This is so self-indulgent, this is my own version of emergency requests because today was a sad day and I didn’t do so well on my quiz.😔 It’s been a while since I’ve refreshed a lot of my memory on P5 BUT IM STILL OBSESSED WITH IT , so apologies if I get anything wrong! This also uses Akira as the Protag’s name.

Warnings: This uses they/them pronouns as usual, but if you are familiar with P5 canon, it does hint that Kuroo’s S/O is afab because of how Kamoshida is and how he acts :// Also, especially if you aren’t familiar with P5, hints of harassment, violence, and sexual assault might come up until the bullet point “Now that the context is over.” There’s nothing explicit, but you guys deserve that warning!

Here’s some ✨backstory✨:

He was probably just an huge fan of Kamoshida, your school’s volleyball coach and former Olympic medalist, growing up. So much so that he almost went to Shujin but ultimately decided on Nekoma in the end.

That’s probably how the two of you met. You were on your school’s vball team and your schools were having practice matches with one another. His eyes probably went 👁️👁️ while his brain went brrr when he first saw you and you spiked a ball in his face because he was too busy staring at you and your form to notice the ball come flying at his nose at 5000 mph. Like oh my god are you an angel. Your form is so fluid yet strong and your jumps take you so high--BAM!

You two ended up trading contact info as you took him to the nurse’s office and ✨the rest is history✨

Used to fangirl over Kamoshida every time he came to pick you up at your school and got you to introduce him. He got an autograph and hung it up in his room.

That being said he does think it’s kind of strange that Shunjin Academy has such a weak volleyball team. He’s like asdfghj he feels so bad for saying it, but some of your teammates get knocked back from a single receive and you get bruises all over? At first he thinks it’s because Kamoshida legitimately tries to work you guys to the bone and then as years go by you get more solemn and quiet about your team.

You do that stubborn Y/N Main Character Thing™ where you keep everything to yourself because you don't want to worry anyone and it drives Kuroo insane.

He’s the type that tries to take care of the people that he values (as seen when he nags/checks up on Kenma) and seeing you physically hurt or emotionally closed off would honestly affect him personally. He wants to help and he wants you to confide in him, but all he can do is nag you about taking care of yourself the moment you see him because you’re becoming more distant.

After a while, he thinks that it’s his fault because his parents’ history still affects him.

Then one day it comes crashing down when you come crying your eyes out to him that you’ve been kicked off the volleyball team because you fought back against Kamoshida and ran off and Kuroo sees red. He’s shaking with anger.

He’s a scorpio so of course all of his emotions are at full force when he hears you crying loudly on the couch after Kamoshida’s attempt and he’s split between wanting to commit murder on your former coach and comforting you.

You tell him everything: how Kamoshida abuses the team, how he always molests the girls, how he started out nice to you because of your skills but recently everything escalated and Kuroo’s heart just drops.

He says, “We need to tell the authorities!! Your principal!!” and that just makes you cry harder because no one would believe you and that your principal is already covering for Kamoshida.

Kuroo honestly thinks that he failed you because he didn’t do anything earlier. He was expecting something, but never took the first steps and he legitimately ties to make up for it by hovering over you the next few weeks.

That night he immediately rips up his Kamoshida autograph and throws it in the shredder.

He moves practice to an hour later to have time to pick you up and take you to Nekoma, he takes you straight to your home every night, and spends his weekends and free time with you. This was routine for several months until tournaments turn up and he has to regretfully spend time away from you.

Legitimately almost beat up Mishima because he was spreading rumors about you but you held your 188 cm cat back.

[One day he walks to Shujin and to your classroom because you weren’t at the gates waiting for him strangely? You turn around and he sees you with three other people which puts him on edge because after Kamoshida people in your school avoided you like the plague.

You just turn when you hear him open the door and you actually smile at him genuinely.

“Hey, Tetsu, this is Ann and Ryuji -- they’re victims of Kamoshida too. And this is Akira, the new kid. They’re my new friends.”]

Then you spend more time away from him while he busies himself with upcoming competitions and he swears that something’s up, but you’ve promised to be honest with him now and he’s too busy with the Nekoma team to really press it out of you. He’s going to “accidentally” hit Kamoshida’s face the next time he sees him on the court.

And then Kamoshida voluntarily publicly admits to his crimes, resigns, and goes to jail and while he thinks it’s strange he celebrates with you.

Afterwards, Kuroo swears that you’re a new person. Not changed, but definitely different, and he doesn’t complain because you’re smiling again, and you feel more confident and free. As long as you’re happy and your abuser is behind bars, then he’s happy.

Now that the context is over.

He doesn’t think much of the Phantom Thieves. He just jokes around whenever people talk about them because he thinks that it’s things out of a fairy tale. Refuses to believe their existence for the longest time while Lev is like :oooo BUT THEY ARE REAL SENPAI!!

You even try to lay low by agreeing with him that they don’t exist.

Kuroo: why are kids nowadays talking about these edgy power rangers.

He feels very bittersweet when you get your new friends. In one hand, he tried very hard to have you get along with his team because in Shujin he knows that you struggled with making friends, but after you made your new friends -- which he’s happy for, he really is!! -- he can’t help but feel like you’re disappearing off the grid?

Like you’re a lot happier now, and he’s glad that your new friends are able to bring you this freedom, but you’re becoming more busy and he’s :(((

He suspects that something’s up though. One day he jokingly punches you in the arm and HIS FIST HURT. He thinks that you’ve been going to the gym without him and you could’ve been spotting each other this entire time.

He gets jealous of Akira the most. Like sure, you get along with the others really well and Ryuji makes you laugh and Yusuke is pretty, you said, but you gush about your team leader the most since he’s the most skilled and Kuroo inwardly feels :/// at the sound of you praising another guy.

You’ve been dropping a lot of dates to fight in the Metaverse and Palaces and so he feels very neglected. He’s mf’ing needy!! He needs attention!

You guys were already long distance and you’ve made it work so far, but as the Phantom Thieves became more popular as time went on, you spent more time with your friends. He misses you, but he doesn’t want to be seen as the possessive, clingy bf so he keeps his opinions to himself, especially since these were your first real friends in a while.

Your first big fight happened when you texted him that you were busy at a study group with your friends, but he just so happened to be in the Sangenjaya district for karaoke with the owl and cat teams and as they’re walking home he sees you emerge from the bathhouse with Akira laughing your asses off.

[”Hey, Kuroo, isn’t that [Name?],” one of his teammates say, pointing across the street at you with Akira. He gulps first and Kenma’s eyes worryingly flash to Kuroo before falling on your figure. Isn’t it suspicious that you were in a bathhouse with another guy after you said you were busy?

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND IT WAS FOR THE SOCIAL LINK KUROO

“Guess you weren’t stressing over your physics exam, huh?” a voice suddenly says, beside you.

“Tetsu?”]

You guys ended up fighting all night, but it was getting late so per your rules that you established when you first started dating, you both said sorry to each other and went to bed. Yet, the doubt never leaves.

Honestly, after a while he does think that you might be a better match for Akira because you both lived in the same area, went to the same school, and were both terrorized by the same person. “Birds of a feather” and all that. He loves you but just wants what’s best for you 😢

He’s smart but...yeah. I’m gonna refrain from further comment. It’s that scorpio brain. He would never get that you’re a Phantom Thief until you clearly tell him.

It either comes out when you guys are fighting again and your relationship is on the line, or you either forgot another date with him and he walks into Leblanc to see you talking with your friends.

He tries to take your conversation outside, but you guys were discussing really urgent and couldn’t go with him, and then you guys start arguing in front of your friends and that’s ;;; awkward as hell. When it starts to escalate either you end up letting it slip that you’re a Phantom Thief or Ryuji.

You can practically see the !!!! on top of everyone’s heads when it comes out.

Everyone scrambles to talk over each other to cover it up but the damage was already done 😔

[Futaba: we can knock him out and pretend that he dreamed up the entire thing!!

Everyone: Futaba, no

Futaba yes.]

When it finally sinks in he’s embarrassed af ;;; like the entire time he was doing the provoking act on Akira and for what???

Then he feels relieved. He thought that you were bored of your relationship and that’s why you’ve been busier and distancing yourself.

Kuroo: thank god [Name] has just been fighting crime this entire time instead of wanting to leave me. 😊😊 (but if you did want to leave he would’ve let you go he’s not toxic!!)

Your friends were iffy about him at first, but he does prove himself to be a reliable person! They think y’all r so lovey-dovey it’s gross.

Ryuji: every time he steps into the room for [Name] I feel 10x more single.

If he hears other students of Nekoma try to talk trash about the Phantom Thieves, he’ll legit puff out his chest, walk up to them and go, “HAAAH? WHAT DID YOU SAY?? SAY THAT TO MY FACE.”

When you try to explain Palaces and Mementos he legit tries to argue with you 🙃🙃

Kuroo: BUT THAT DOESNT MAKE S E N S E WHERE’S THE SCIENCE BEHIND THIS. There has to be an explanation make it make sense!!

Damn he thought you were hot before now he thinks that you’re a literal GOD ON EARTH.

[You: [beats up a multi-millionaire in a Palace].

Kuroo: [tears up] real hot girl shit.]

Does your homework for you when you’re too tired after fighting Shadows all day.

He loves Morgana the most out of all your friends!! Because... he’s a not cat. Like c’mon.

In all truth, he’s so supportive of you!! Yeah, he was kinda disappointed that you didn’t tell him sooner, especially since he was there for you when it first started, but he truly understands your reasoning and why you kept it to yourself. He’s worried every time he knows that you’re going to fight Shadows, but can’t help but feel the sense of pride every time you come back to him.

Kuroo wants to gloat to his team that he has such a badass S/O so much, but every time he praises you he has to cut so many details out so he just sounds like a crazy person.

#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo hcs #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #persona 5 headcanons #persona 5 scenarios #persona 5 #crossover #YEA THIS WAS SELF SERVING AS HELL WHAT OF IT #...what did i write honestly...

43 notes · View notes

samthemarvelfan · 5 years ago

Text

One Last Time (Part 2 of 2)

Summary: ModernAU! Mini Series! With her best friend’s wedding around the corner, Ella Monroe is bound to run into people from her past. While she may have left her old life behind, it seems as though her heart hasn’t.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC, feat: Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson

Warnings: Swearing, heavy angst, infidelity, mentions of drinking, implied smut.

A/N: Part Two is here! (It’s long and im sorry lol) This idea was so much fun to write! Thank you as always for all the love on Part One, I’m so honored you’re reading my work! Buckle up, y’all. You’re in for quite the ride. <3 (taglist is still open, just send an ask!)

Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @star-spangled-beard-burn @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda @wintersoldierissucharide @snapcapquartet @ellen-reincarnated1967 @unlistedpond @my-drowning-in-time @supernaturalwintersoldier @kimvmarvel @roseboho @disaffectedbarnes (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)

“I was wondering how long you were gonna avoid me.”

Your breathe caught in your throat. Suddenly, it felt like ice water was rushing down your spine.

You couldn’t think—couldn’t move. You had to will your brain to function again.

“What exactly makes you think you’re worth me avoiding?” You hissed.

Bucky’s voice was ingrained into your memory—you’d know it anywhere. The biggest crowds or the largest rooms, you could pick out his tone.

He let out a small chuckle. “It’s good to see you, Els.”

He was sat in a shadowed part of the patio, it’s no wonder you didn’t see him when you came out.

You scoffed, “Is it? Wish I could say the same there, buddy.”

The shock of seeing him had faded; how were you this composed? You’d always thought you’d be putty in his hands if you ever saw him again.

Turns out your backbone was made of fucking steel.

Bucky stood, gripping onto what you assumed was bourbon—his go-to drink.

On the rocks, three fingers high. You thought, hating yourself for remembering.

When he stepped into the light, it was clear why your backbone had been strong; you hadn’t seen his face yet.

You’d be a liar if you said he looked bad. He was still handsome as ever. He had a bit of a beard now, the stubble of one at least, and his hair was shorter thank you’d ever seen it.

“Wanda said you asked if I was here.” You crossed your arms, shielding yourself from him.

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “I did.”

You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. The only sound between the two of you was the ice clinking against his glass.

“You gonna tell me why?” You sneered.

Bucky smiled and shook his head. “Just curious, Els. Just curious.”

Why is he smiling? What the fuck does he have to smile about?

“Right, I’m sure curiosity is what made you hide out here. Alone.”

He finished his drink with one final toss, “Actually, I was with Steve, but he said he was grabbing drinks for you guys, so...figured I didn’t wanna intrude.”

Your arms fell to your sides, “Intrude?” You asked.

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. On your date. Personally, I don’t see it, but if he’s what you’re into now-a-days, then...” he drifted off.

Your blood began to boil. “What I’m into?” You echoed. “I’m not here with Steve, James. Even if I was, I don’t think that’s any of your fucking business.”

His eyes widened, confidence drained from his face. “No, no, Els I didn’t mean—“

“And another thing, what makes you think you have even the smallest right to make that comment? Or any comment! It’s been 5 years, James!” You’d shouted, grateful for the music bumping inside.

Bucky scrubbed a hand down his beard, “I know, I know...shit. This isn’t how I wanted this to go.”

“This?” You asked, “There is no this. Hasn’t been for a long time, you made sure of that.”

When he didn’t reply, you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Ya know what? You’re not worth the aggravation. I’ve been there with you and there’s nothing good in it for me.” You start heading towards the doors to go back inside.

“Enjoy the wedding, James.” You say without looking at him.

Your hand touches the door, when he calls out to you. “Ella?”

Your gaze is returned to him once more.

“Y-you look beautiful, Doll.” He says.

You, on the other hand, don’t say anything.

Once your back inside, you find Wanda and Sam and Steve and finish the rest of your night in the company of your friends.

All while wondering if that crack you heard in Bucky’s voice was real or not.

“Vomit. I’m going to vomit.” Wanda said, fanning herself.

You rushed back to her with a glass of cold water. “Oh no you’re not, not in this dress and that makeup. I won’t allow it.”

She sipped the cold drink, “I’m starting to regret having no one up there with me.”

You adjusted her veil, primping the last bit you could. “No shit.” You joked.

She let out a long breathe, and then inhaled deeply. “I’m getting married. God, this is crazy.”

You smiled softly, “It’s not crazy. No one, and I mean no one deserves this more than you.”

Wanda’s eyes landed gently on yours, “You do.”

You sat with that for a moment. Your best friend is standing here, minutes before she walks down the isle, trying to get you to understand that you are worthy of love, and that you deserve your happy ending.

“I love you, Wan.” You choked out. “But if you make me cry I’m gonna kick you ass.”

You both laughed out your nerves. “Whew...okay, distract me. I can’t sit here for 10 more minutes in silence.”

You waited a moment, thinking on what to say, before you blurred out what was weighing most on your mind.

“I saw Bucky last night.” You whispered.

Wanda eyes expanded, “What? You didn’t tell me!”

You roll your eyes at her dramatics, “There’s nothing to tell, Wan.”

“Well what did he say?!” She prodded.

You recounted the small interaction to her. Her face making the funniest expressions with each added detail.

“Then he said ‘this isn’t how I wanted this to go’...whatever that means.” You said, handing her her bouquet.

“Anything else happen?” God damn this girl could read you like a book.

You cleared your throat. “I was uh, I was walking back inside and he stopped me and said ‘you look beautiful, doll’...”

Her jaw dropped, “He so wants you back.”

You laughed. Genuinely laughed. “Wanda, you’re psychotic.”

She slapped your shoulder, “Am not! He obviously regrets what he did and how things ended. Maybe he wanted to use this weekend to apologize?”

You shook your head subtly, slipping your heels back on. “James Barnes does not apologize.” You stated flatly.

5 Years Earlier, before the breakup.

“Buck, please stop.” You whispered to him.

He was being brash, loud, and boisterous at the very first work event you’d been invited too.

Oh yeah, and he was piss drunk off of the open bar.

“Stop what? I’m just telling stories, Doll.” He said, louder than he realized.

You colleagues all gave you looks of pity. Your boss Pepper was watching you with a curious eye, not judging, just taking in your interaction.

That was somehow worse.

“Bucky, please...everyone is looking at you. This is my job. You’re—“

“I’m what, Els?” He slurs loudly.

Your feel the blood rush to your face. “James...” you warn.

“What is it? Am I embarrassing you? I’m not fancy enough to hang out with your work pals, is that it?” His words are laced with venom. How long had he been feeling like this?

Your face softened looking at your boyfriend. About to speak, you notice Pepper making her way through the crowd.

You panic, “Alright, time to go.” Quickly, you grab Bucky’s hand and yank him toward the door.

You don’t stop walking until you’re a safe distance away from the building where the conference was being held.

“What is the matter with you?!” You shout unable to keep composure any longer.

Bucky’s face is stoic, and unfazed by your outburst.

“I was trying to have fun, but those uptight douchebags wouldn’t know fun if it—“

“I work with those people, James! My boss was watching you make an ass of yourself the whole time!” You can’t help the anger settling in your bones.

He scoffed, “So you are embarrassed of me. Noted.” He said walking past you.

But he paused, turning on his heel to take a few steps back to you. “Ya know what, Els? I didn’t have a fancy education and I don’t have a big, cushy job. I’m just an average fucking guy. I can’t fit in with these people, I don’t belong with those people.”

You cross your arms. Have you really become this couple? Fighting on the streets of Manhattan in the freezing cold?

“Have I ever asked you to be someone else? I invited you because my Boss told everyone to bring their spouses.” You take a step toward him.

Bucky sighed, running his hands down his face. “We’re just...two different people, Ella.”

All at once it feels like the winds been knocked out of you.

“Yeah. Yeah we are. But unlike you, I don’t see you the way you do. I see a hardworking man. A guy who has taken care of everyone else his whole life, and who deserves to have someone finally take care of him. I see a man who takes pride in his work and enjoys what he does. I see a guy who pays his bills on time, and who always manages to surprise me with even the smallest of gestures. I see the man I love, James.”

You were crying. How long had he felt so inadequate? It broke your heart to think he didn’t feel as important as he was to you.

“I can’t help my job. I can’t help my education. But don’t you dare throw those things in my face. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am, and I’m damn proud of myself for it.

He watched you for a moment, his jaw clenched tightly. Bucky shoved his hands in his pocket before hanging his head low. “I’m...I don’t know what to say.”

Damn his pride. You thought to yourself.

You reached out to him, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I know. It’s okay.”

He kissed your palm, before pulling you into him. “I’m not good enough. I know I’m not. Not for you.”

Bucky kissed your forehead, and for some reason, you weren’t sure why, it felt like he was saying goodbye.

The wedding was beautiful. Not a dry eye in the house—certainly not from you.

“Nat was a blubbering mess.” Sam jested.

“Excuse me for being over-emotional!” She said gesturing pointedly at her stomach.

You laughed, “I cried too, Nat, don’t worry.”

“Hey, got your table cards, guys.” Steve said, walking over to the three of you.

“Thank you,” you said with a smile, “She seat us together?”

He nodded, “Sure did, thank goodness.” Steve smiled, handing you your card.

“I need to go sit and eat and eat some more—in that order.” Nat said.

You walked to the beautifully set circular table, walking around to find what seat your place card was on. That’s when you noticed the fifth seat at the table.

“Who else is seared with us?” Sam asks.

Picking up the seat card between your seat and Steve’s, you felt you stomach do a back flip.

“Is that my seat?” A voice asked, approaching you from behind.

Not a voice. His voice.

You spin to see him. Bucky. Standing there with a sheepish grin on his face.

Practically throwing the place card down, you swiftly take your seat. “Looks like it.”

Wanda, I’m going to kill you. You think to yourself.

Bucky said his hello’s to everyone, taking his seat. “I didn’t know about this, I swear.” He whispers to you.

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Just...don’t talk to me.” You whisper harshly.

From the corner of your eye, you can see the defeat on his face as he sinks back into his chair. Since when does he have feelings?

You perk up at the clinking of a fork against a crystal glass. “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen? We’re going to have a few words from the Bride and Groom before dinner is served.” Wanda’s brother announced.

Vis went first. He spoke about how he and Wanda had met, and how quickly he fell in love with her. He spoke about what he loved about her in more detail than I’d ever heard some describing anything.

He loved her. He was in love with her.

It warmed your heart to see how safe and happy your friends heart was. A soft smile landed on your lips as you watching Wanda stand and join Vis to speak.

“You ever want something like this?” Bucky whispered to you as their speeches continued.

You glance at him quickly, shocked at the ease in which he spoke to you. His face was gentle, his eyes seeming desperate for an answer.

“What, a wedding? Sure I did.” You said earnestly.

He paused for a moment, clearly nervous to speak again. “D-Did you ever want it with me?”

You hesitated. Why is he asking you this here, now? Was Wanda right? Was this all a big plan to apologize?

You sighed, turning away from him slightly. “You were my everything at one point, Buck. Future included.”

You wondered if that sentence had hurt him the way it hurt you.

Wanda continued her speech. What she was saying you weren’t sure, your mind was exactly where you didn’t want it.

With Bucky.

Despite your back being to him, you felt his stare. The heat coming off of his body, ironically enough, made you shiver.

“Ella...” his voice strained from behind you.

You did a half turn to see his face. His eyes were watery with tears, and his jaw was locked. “Can I—can we talk? Please.” He begged.

You don’t know how it happened. Maybe it was the sincerity in his tone, or the loss of hope in his eyes, but before you know it, you’re following him out to the hallway, into an empty stair well.

“I just wanna talk, I promise.” He confesses.

You roll your eyes, “You said that already, James.”

Bucky groans. “For Christ’s sake, will you stop calling me that?”

A scoff passed your lips, “It’s your name. If you’d like, I’m sure I can come up with some other things to call you.” You quipped.

He stood still finally, “It makes it sound like we’re fucking strangers, Ella .”

“That’s because we are!” You shout. “It’s been five years, probably more since I’ve seen you, let alone spoken to you. You don’t know me anymore, and I’m fairly certain I never actually knew you.”

The feeling of your heart beating out of your chest took over. You were allowing yourself to feel for the first time in all these years. All the hurt and the pain and the rage he’d caused your heart was being laid bare.

“Yes you did. You were the only one who ever saw the real me.” He said somberly.

You scoffed, “Good to know. The real you is a cheater and a liar. Noted.”

He groaned furiously, “No! For fucks sake that’s not what I meant.”

You watched the struggle happening within him. Bucky was never a “good talker” as he used to say, that’s why he always wrote letters. It was obvious he was trying to piece together some kind of coherent thought.

“Just say what you wanted to say, James.” You urge him, crossing your arms.

He shook his head. “I’m not...fuck, I’m still not good at this. You’d think I would have learned how to fucking apologize by now.”

Your breathing hitched, “What did you say?”

He sighed, “I’m taking a really long time to...just fucking say...I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you.”

Suddenly ice water was coursing through your veins. He said sorry. James Barnes said he was sorry.

You couldn’t speak, and even if you could, what would you say?

His voice was shaking as he spoke, “I was so fucking selfish and blinded by my own insecurities, that I let it ruin the best thing in my life. You were...God, you were everything I could have ever wanted.” He smiled, presumably getting lost in his memories of the two of you.

He stepped closer to you, and to your surprise, you didn’t back away. “But just cause I wanted you doesn’t mean I deserved you, and I guess deep down I knew that. Hell, I wanted to break up after that disaster at your office party. Remember that? That’s when I knew if we stayed together, I’d just drag you down with me.”

His words broke—re-broke your heart. The tears stinging your eye were begging to be shed. But Bucky was speaking without hesitation now, so you let him.

“I tried, Doll. I tried so many fucking times to be a man and end it. But then you’d come home after a long day and look so fucking happy to see me,” his voice cracked with emotion, “and I couldn’t do it. You were so perfect, and so good to me. I was a selfish prick who wanted to soak you in a little more before I knew I’d have to push you away.”

“You had no right to make that decision!” You sobbed.

Bucky reached out and wiped your tears off your cheeks. Why don’t you push him away?

“Honey, I was a broken, immature boy pretending to be the man you deserved...” a tear fell down his cheek as well.

You finally pushed him back, wiping your own eyes. “So you decide to fuck another girl in our bed? That was your great plan to push me away? How about be honest, Bucky!”

He stood there, taking his verbal beating. “You could’ve told me how you were feeling. I would have told you how ridiculous that was--how much I fucking loved you! How I would have helped you in any way you needed me too. But you decided to fucking kill me instead. You broke me, Bucky. The life we had wasn’t perfect, but it was ours.”

He scrubbed his face with his hands, sniffling when he shoved them back in his pockets. “I know. I know what I did. I see your face every God damn day of my life. That look on your face when you saw that girl in our house.”

You bit your lip, the painful memories of that day making your stomach churn.

“I never slept with her, though.” Bucky says plainly.

You scoff, “and here I thought for one we were finally being totally honest with each other.”

He put a hand over his heart. “On my life, Doll. I didn’t. Had I planned too? Yeah. But you came home that afternoon and thankfully I never did.”

“James...” you scold, “I saw her! She was pretty much naked in our bedroom!”

He nods, “She had gone to the bathroom to look for the condoms I hid in there. She couldn’t find them though, that’s when she walked out and you walked in.”

As you pieced together his story, your eyes flitted from side to side. “So..so you never cheated, you just intended too. But you never actually slept with someone else.” These were questions from you. They were statements. You were trying to make sense of all of this.

“Not that it makes any of what happened better, but I was gonna tell her to leave as soon as she came outta the bathroom. Honestly? I couldn’t get it up at all.” He jokes to ease the moment.

“Buck...” you chided

“I’m serious! I felt so fucking guilty, Els. I couldn’t do it. Besides she...” he drifted off.

“She what, Buck?”

His cerulean eyes met you for the first time. “She wasn’t you, Baby.”

Baby.

He’d called you that so many times. This time it felt different, it felt familiar. It felt right.

You shook your head, “Stop it, James.” Your lips quivered as you spoke.

He refused, “No. I lost you once, because of my own arrogance and stupidity, I’m not gonna do it again. Do you know how many times I wanted to write you? I have so many letters written, all of them unsent because I knew you’d never wanna see me again.”

He’d written you? He’d thought about you? All these years and you’d thought he’d forgotten you.

“I’ve loved you...what seems like my whole life, Els.”

You sniffled, “So what do you expect? Us to fall into each other’s arms and pretend like the last five years didn’t happen?”

He shook is head. “Of course not. I don’t even know what I was hoping for, really. I just needed you to know the truth, and for you to know how deeply and wholly sorry I am.”

In an instant, the world had changed. You were no longer holding onto the bitterness that had seeded itself into your heart. You’d seen Bucky in a new light, granted not a flattering one, but a true one.

One that showed he wasn’t the heartless monster you’d been believing he was for years.

“I forgive you.” You choked out.

A muffled sob snuck past his lips. “C-Can I hug you?” He asked timidly.

You hesitated, but eventually nod. In an instant, Bucky’s arms are enveloping you. His warm chest comforting your shaking body.

He held you for what felt like hours, inhaling your scent, and caressing you’re back.

But you didn’t mind.

It felt good to be held again, and to be held by Bucky felt familiar.

He pulled away slightly, to look at your face. His eyes roamed over every detail, like he was afraid he’d forget something if he’d never see you again.

“Buck.” You practically whisper.

He smiled, “I can’t kiss you...right?”

You bit your lip. “No...no. Definitely not. Right?” You reply weakly.

He stepped back, “Yeah, that’s...that’d be too much.”

You smoothed you’re dress down, and tucked some hair behind your ear. “Exactly. Yeah.”

“We should get back out there anyway. I have a feeling we’re missing that very expensive dinner.” He laughed.

You smiled softly, “Don’t wanna miss that.” You jest.

Bucky let you walk in front of him, leading the way.

You grasp the door handle, but before you can swing it open, Bucky grabs your hand and twirls your body into his.

Without missing a beat, his lips are on yours before you even have time to think. Like second nature, you melt under his touch.

Mouths moving with a remembrance and familiarity that you hadn’t felt in forever. Hands searching for changes in each other’s bodies—there were none.

“Bucky. Buck...stop. Stop.” You moaned.

He did as he was asked, “What—what’s wrong?” He breathed into you.

“We can’t do this...not here.”

He pulled back, hesitantly, but he does. “You’re right. Shit, I’m sorry.”

You laugh, “Don’t be. We just...we can’t just jump back into things like that. We gotta get to know each other again. Okay?”

He smiled whole heartedly. “Really?”

You nod. “Just...don’t make me regret this, Bucky. Please.”

Bucky grabbed your hand, bringing it to his mouth. He placed a chaste kiss on your palm, before closing it and returning it to your heart. “I promise you, Ella. I promise I’ll make this right.”

And you believe him.

Is it against your better judgement? Maybe. But you know the old saying, ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...”

As you walked back to the reception with him, you saw Bucky with new eyes. You no longer looked at him with disdain and malice, but instead, you saw hope.

Hope for not only your future and his, but hope for one you can build together.

In the end that’s all you wanted, something that everyone in your life seemed to have and believe you deserved.

A happy ending.

Part One

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #mcu #james buchanan barnes #One Last Time #bucky barnes fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #samthemarvelfan

168 notes · View notes

ajokeformur-ray · 4 years ago

Text

I watched Joker tonight and typed out my thoughts as they occurred to me. Unedited; typos are guaranteed. I did this a few months ago and really enjoyed looking back at my thought process and I wanted to do it again so that I can look back and know that what I feel is real and true in my darkest times.

You're welcome to skip this; it's under a cut for ease of doing so. Warnings for occasional sexual comment lmao. There’s no self shipping in this, I don’t think.

word count: 2, 575.

I’M SOBBING and I’ve only just pressed play.

Heart squeeze Chest much ow

THERE HE IS

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nooooo baby omg don’t pretend - let yourself hurt if it hurts. Don’t pretend.

Carnival Carnival Carnivalllllllll 😍😍😍😍😍

I am a Simp for one clown and his name is Carnival

Someone help him, I????

That sign hit Arthur as hard as my love for him did ksksksk

MY EYES BE LEAKIN💔💔💔💔💔

bb nooooo

Oh honey let me kiss those bruises and replace the marks of violence with love, hm? You’re safe with me.

Breathe, my love. Don’t fight the laughter. Let it out, let yourself go.

Screams into a pillow because????? much sad must kiss

“have you been keeping up with your journal?” LIKE HE HAS TIME

oHHHHH boi’s close to losing his shit

Do it, Artie. Give ‘em hell.

“I think I did” YOU TELL HER!!💖💖💖

I want to be his cigarette. Where’s Satan??? I got a new deal for my blackened soul which he took at half price😂😂😂😂

I’d have my hand between the door and his head so fuckin fast I swear

“I just don’t wanna feel so bad anymore” yep SAME

ohhhh peekaboo🥺🥺🥺

this makes me giggle ksksksk i watch this scene when i feel sad bc it always makes me happy for the time it’s on

he’s so good with kids; he doesn’t have to try and think about what’s funny, he just does it, he’s himself and it works

FUCK OFF LADY CAN’T YOU SEE HE’S STRUGGLING????

give

him

back

his

card

casually wrinkling my nose against tears lmao

ohhh the way he looks up at those stairs from the bottom

i can feel his exhaustion

me too, my love

step step step step

god i wanna get him the fuck outta gotham

and into my arms and a soft, warm blanket

“eat. you need to eat” LITERALLY WHAT I TELL MYSELF EVERY DAY IN HIS VOICE BC OTHERWISE I JUST WOULDNT EAT???? I’m losing so much weight asdfghjk its not enough tho

SUPAH RATS

Did Arthur come up w that joke or was it actually a Murray joke????

HIS VOICE IS SO SOFT IM CRY??🥺🥺🥺🥺

“I WAS PUT HERE TO SPREAD JOY AND LAUGHTER”

YOU DO BABY, YOU DO!!!! EVERY FUCKING DAY!!!!

go deepthroat a cactus randall - youre already a bit of a prick so🙃🙃🙃

“THE GUYS THINNK YOU’RE A FREAK BUT I LIKE YOU”

HOYT. YOU CAN GO SIT ON A CACTUS TOO

FUCK OFF

😡😡😡😡

“WHY WOULD ANYONE STEAL A SIGN”//”WHY DOES ANYONE DO ANYTIHNG?” HOYT YOU’RE SO FUCKING ILLOGICAL HERE IM????? ERIKA DOES NOT (ALSO WILL NOT LMAO IM A STUBBORN BIITCH) COMPUTE

Can arthur fuck me like he pounds the trash/????🥵🥵👀

those dark curls.... that crooked tooth... must kiss.🥺🥺🥺

pennys casual cruelty makes me so fucking angry

foreshadowingggggg ~ *JAZZ HANDS*

ugh the way he dances with that gun im👀🥵🥵🥵

he enjoys the power of it and his breathing gets deeper asdfghjk

clumsy baby omggggg i just COOED 🥺🥺🥺🥺

okay maybe im stupid but i genuinely dont understand this “senior who needs to graduate” skit i’m??? how is being an intro to western civ student funny im???? someone explain???

but also dont bc fuck that guy lmao arthur’s hilarious

true millenial humour (and brit humour lmao we’re dark asf)

THE WAY ARTIE TWIRLS HIS FINGERS AROUND HIS HAIR AND DANCES IN HIS SEAT IM???🥺🥺🥺

wanna curl up on his lap at night when hes writing and go to sleep with a

blanket around our bodies🥺🥺🥺🥺

when arthur wears a shirt at home you KNOW it’s a daydream

THAT CROOKED TOOTH IM WANT KISS.

WAIT IS IT CALLED STAND UP COMEDY BC YOU STAND UP... AND ITS COMEDY???

23 FUCKING YEARS, PEOPLE... TO REALISE THAT🙄

WHEN CARNIVAL CAME ON SCREEN I NTHE HOSPITAL I MADE A PORNOGRAPHIC NOISE LMAO I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

IF YOURE HAPPY AND YOU KNOW IT, SHOOT MURRAY

WOOPS WRONG LYRICS

😂

“doctor of laughter”🥺🥺🥺🥺

doctor i have a case of the Big Sad can you... do an exam? 😉😏

NO BB DONT BEAT YOUR HEAD UP THERES PRECIOUS CARGO IN THERE

in what world does chucking cold greasy chips in a girls hair being “nice”???

lmao fuck these guys

ohhh honey breathe. dont fight it, my love, just breathe.

my heart’s breaking for you, you sweet thing🥺🥺🥺

i love you so so so so so so so much ugh you’re an actual fucking angel

just breathe darling

i need to get you a cup of tea with honey in it, your throat must be so sore

ohhhh baby im so sorry

i’d take every single punch if i could

i’d die for you

i wish i could protect you

i wish i could look after you

and take all those hits

and kill those guys for you

im so sorry

sobbingggg

YES GOOD MAN THANK YOUUU

KILL THOSE ASSHOLES LMAO DESERVED IT

yeah i have a grey morality... im similar to deadpool in that way tbh

carnival comin’ to kill your insecurities

8 bullets in a 6 chamber???? mm-hm

DONT FORGET YOUR BAG THATS EVIDENCE

AND THE WIG

RUN BABY RUNNNNNNN

GO GO GO GOOOOOOOOOOOO

RUN LIKE THE WIND BULLSEYE

THE SOUND OF HIS FEET SLAPPING THE PAVEMENT IM👀

OOOOOH JOKER’S WAKIN’ UUUUUUP

fuck he’s so hypnotic

the way he runs his hand down his lower stomach asdfghj🥵

must kiss the inner tendons on his wrists and lick the blood off his face

must kiss

he moves like water

fuck hes so fluid

bathroom scene = the scene in which my heart and vagina clench at the same time

im WANT

T POSEEEEEEEE

“i still owe you for that, dont i?”

PUNCH OUT IS MY FAVOURITE THING E V E R

D O N T S M I LE

UGH I FUCKING HATE being told to smile if i don’t fucking want to so BIG mood

PLEASE SHUSH ME THE WAY YOU JUST SHUSHED PENNY IM???

but also dont lmao bc i’ll think you’re mad at me and i’ll hide in the bedroom for the rest of the day lmao i’m sensitive✨✨✨

i wanna sit on his lap and still his bouncing knees

“thats not funny”

fuck off penny yes it is

I JUST CHOKED ON MY COFFEE IM???

“but i do” god the P O W E R

ugh that fucking sexist piece of shit comedian can choke “women look at sex like buying a car” 🤢🤮🤢🤢🤮

chauvinistic pigs can die thanks

his lil trip upstage im cry🥺🥺🥺

ohhh baby. just breathe, darling. it’s okay to be scared. dont fight it. just breathe.

he and i both cover our mouths when we laugh/smile in the exact same way and it makes me feel closer to him

how can they think hes laughing at himself when hes literally gagging????

people only see what they wanna

the Penny imitation is👌👌👌

s m i l e

i remember when i came home from seeing this for the first time, i got home and dropped to my knees to cry in the bathroom. it was such an emotional release and so much love and i played smile to try to make myself smile but i only made myself cry harder lmaooooo ~

smile and thats life are my go-to songs if i gotta cheer tf up

danger sign = neither works

he looks so soft after his “date”🥺🥺🥺

“thats life” yeah but murray you dont even leave the studio so how do you know????

ngl arthur’s anger scares me.

anyone so much as raise their voice at me and i’ll cry really bad and i will shut myself away for the rest of the day and quiet anger terrifies me so his banging abt in the kitchen would freak me tf out😲

angry bb😭

he controls his anger so fast though omgggg ~

that soft please sends me

idk where it sends me lmao

down below probably

BARE FACED CARNIVAL OMG THIS SCENE IS SO CUTE

I LOVE THE MATCHING COLOURS ON ARTHUR AND BRUCE TOO ???

okay but the implication that arthur always carries a clown nose on him is🥺🥺🥺

hes such a good clown im?????

lmao im enjoying the show more than bruce is skskskk

arthur’s lil chuckle makes me🥺

his HUMMING im??? soft?????

his brows are so strong and dark omggg ~ he’s so beautiful

OKAY i’ll be honest i’ve seen this alfred/bruce scene and the thomas bathroom scene later on and the penny flashback scene a 100 times and i still dont fucking understand what did or didnt happen regarding arthur’s parentage im????

ive seen interpretations to say he is thomas’ son and some to say he isnt and i still cant decide so? im stupid i guess 🙃

“a clown thing?” the s a s s

“it’s exit only” yeah so’s my ass🙃

if i was there in the hospital room i woulda turned that tv off as soon as i realised what clip was gonna play

murray’s cruelty is d i s g u s t i n g

lmao hes an asshole

arthurs lil clap from joyyyyy ~ 🥺🥺🥺

did i say murray???

i meant m u r r a t

🙃🙃🙃

sneaky baby

wayne hall either has super bad security or arthurs v quick on his feet

🤔🤔🤔🤔

he looks so good in red omggg ~

f o r e s h a d o w i n g

arthurs smile when hes watching chaplin is how he smiles when we all gush to each other abt him and ourselves!!!

hes so cuuuuuute🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰

“told me what”

ohhhh honey🥺🥺 im so sorry. “crazy” is a trigger word for arthur; it made him start laughing in the bathroom with thomas

“touch my son again ill fucking kill you” yeah?? touch my arthur again and i’ll fucking kill you🙃🙃🙃🙃

^^^ that ones a joke do not come at me

the clerk in arkham was nice to arthur - he, gary and sophie are the good gothamites.

none of it was enough to stop his descent into joker, though, and i’d even say it was too late right at the beginning of the film, too...

his sock puppet thingy “they cut all those” is such a Joker thing to doooo ~

the way arthur’s laughing in the hall at arkham turns into sobbing is gut-wrenching omg the poor thing😭

i wanna hug him and protect him and help him to process this in a healthy way

sweetheart, if i could take all of your pain and put it onto me... i so would. i’d do it in a heartbeat.

i wanna get you into a hot shower, make you some food and sit and listen to you. we can either sit in silence or you can talk to me, my love, and you will be heard and understood and loved.

“i had a bad day”

IT’S OKAY I DIDNT NEED MY HEART ANYWAY OMG YOU POOR SWEET INNOCENT THING IM LOVE YOU🥺💔

THAT ENTIRE LATE NIGHT SCENE LAUGH/SOBBING GOT ME -

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

i just wanna hold you and protect you and help you and love you

I’m so fucking sorry, darling. i wish i could take it all away from you

“i havent been happy one minute of my entire fucking life”

NO ONE SHOULD LOOK THAT ANGELIC AFTER COMMITING MATRICIDE IM????

get

that

fucking

gun

away

from

your

face

boi dont test me ill fucking go feral or - no, tell you what, i’ll point the gun at me and see how you like it

im looking respectfully at the green speckled undies scene....👀👀👀

“coming” 😏😏😏

“my mum died im celebrating” and “i stopped taking my medication” and you STILL stayed in the apartment with Arthur????? dudes those are 🚨🚨🚨 signs

woe betide anyone who underestimates arthur fleck lmaoooo

randalls death scene makes me laugh every time omg i feel so vindictive

get WRECKED

i wanna lick the blood off his face. i really want to

ngl i think i have a blood kink...

“dont look just go” ME WITH MY ACNE WHEN I SEE IT IN THE MIRROR 😂😂😂😂

JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKER

ASDFGHJKL

ERIKA.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING

JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERRRRRR

😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 MY BABY MY MAN OMG THERE HE IS IM CRY???????😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺

my mind is literally blank rn im just staring and crying and smiling so hard my face hurts????? im love him so so so so much

sweet thing’s so used to pain he gets HIT BY A CAR AND KEEPS GOING????

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

hghhhhhhhhhhhhhh

euirrrrrrgkjbgkfbirsghigrbugr

*incoherent keyboardsmash to portray utter love*

ohhh baby no dont cry. oh honey😭 i wanna sit on your lap and kiss your tears away

“i love dr sally”

you have a WIFE at home

“DO YOU REMEMBER?” THAT WAS YOUR CUE TO APOLOGISE LMAO GET FUCKED MURRAT

he’s so CUTE

omgggg ~

my hearts gonna give out its SQUEEZING SO HARD IT HURTS

YOU MOCK THEM, BABY!!! THEY GOT IT COMING

“i wanna get it right” hes so passionate

my comments have deceased in number bc im just too starstruck and in love to even think clearly lmao

jokers all i know rn and this is the most peaceful ive felt in WEEKS

im sobbing

ugh fuck this hurts so BAD

youre speaking the truth, darling. im so so proud of you and i love you so much

“THEY COULDNT CARRY A TUNE TO SAVE THEIR LIVES” LMAO INSIDE JOKESSS

literally sobbing right now ugh what the fuck youre in so much pain and in the middle of a breakdown and no one saw you

ugh baby im so sorry, you deserve so much better

you tried so hard and you were gonna fall no matter what

IN THE WHITE ROOM

“hi” baby they cant hear you but im COOING 🥺🥺🥺🥺

you’re so fucking cute

say the word and ill burn gotham to the fucking ground for you

i wanna sit atop that car and cradle your head in my lap and wipe the blood off your face and help you stand up and be there for you and and and😭😭😭😭😭😭 i love you so so so much.

i’d be so much worse off without you in my life. you brought a splash of colour which has never dimmed or faded. it never will.

b l o o d s m i l e

im wearing my inside on the outside now and it still hurts

angel💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

i see you and your pain. i love you.

i see you, angel.

his genuine laughter is🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

that cute lil “ksksks” he does im🥺🥺🥺

i always laugh with him omg the two of us are laughing together ugh its the closest i will ever get to sharing in his joy

t h a t ‘s l i f e

i love the hallway daaaaaaaaaaaaaance ~

them hips dont lie😉😉😉

i love you i love you i love you i love you omg the sun’s like a halo ugh i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you im singing along to thats life while i type out how much i love you at 220am lmaooooo ~

i l o v e y o u

#erileck #<- ref tag #arthur fleck #joker 2019 #erika talks

15 notes · View notes

whatsmylaneagain · 4 years ago

Text

Amethyst - Third Chapter

Pairing: Eggsy x Agent!Reader

Word count: 1960 (a big one!!! Yay!!!)

Warnings: swearing, Roxy mention (bc she deserved more), reader’s character being a rebellious lil shit, Eggsy being kinda dumb (oh well this is all kinda narrated by his point of view, there’s no way to not expect that, right?!)

Chapter synopsis: so, we know that the bomb had Eggsy’s name on it, but.... what the hell is actually happening?

A/N: GUYS IM BACK AND IM SORRY!!!! I’ve written (and revised) this more than six months ago, but I absolutely hated how I made Eggsy a dumb character, so I spent all this months putting this story aside to fix it later... but I love it so much and this week I watched Spies are Forever and oh well.... idk, its been too long, but I’m posting this anyway.

Amethyst masterlist

Eggsy didn’t expect to find another person other than Harry and Merlin at the Kingsman’s meeting room. And what he definitely didn’t expect was for the person to be a beautiful Chinese woman laughing and having a drink with Harry Hart. The young man felt like he was invading a private moment, and had the sudden urge to grab y/n by the arm to show her the new victorian-style sconces he chosen for the rebuilt hallway.

But before he could say anything, y/n had already tapped the doorpost, making their presence known. The middle-aged woman talking to Harry glanced at the two young agents, giving the girl a sly smile.

“I’m glad to know you didn’t punch Mr. Unwin on your way here, y/n” she said, as Eggsy went straight for his chair on Harry’s right side.

“I would’ve if you didn’t send me that text” The girl had moved to the woman’s side, backing up to the wall for support. She never made mention of pulling a chair.

“Well, y/n, I take as you already know Harry.” Said the woman, gesturing to the older man, who smiled sweetly. Yes, that’s right. Harry SMILED.

“Of course, The Great Harry Hart, the man of a thousand missions;” when Eggsy thought he couldn’t get more confused, y/n pulled this. “Everybody at the headquarters knows who you are.” And some - fucking – how, she sounded genuine, and not witty or arrogant as she appeared to be. Was that… admiration?

Seeing Eggsy’s confused expression, the older woman gave him a small smile, welcoming, but not too sweet; just like an agent is used to do.

“Galahad, I’m Yijun, or as my agents – or people who can’t bother to learn how to pronounce it - call me, Circe. I’m the head of Amethyst, the agency that y/n works for.”

Eggsy must have looked very confused, because Harry intervened, while pouring two more drinks, giving him one and sliding the other across the table, towards y/n.

“Yijun is an old friend, we met some weeks after she came from China. I was already a Kingsman, and was trying to bring her into the organization – just like I did with you – when she was recruited as an Amethyst trainee.”

“You knew?” Started Eggsy, a little bit of irritation shaping his words. After agent Whiskey, he knew better than not to trust Harry. But he couldn’t help the feeling of being a pawn. “Why did you let me go after her then?”

“I didn’t know the agent who saved you was y/n. All I knew was that she was an Amethyst, since the intervention was fast and clean.”

“-almost clean;” Yijun turned her chair to y/n, who was taking a sip out of her drink, still leant against the wall. “If Morgan’s work were perfect, you wouldn’t be able to find her.”

“Nobody’s perfect, but I try my best.” She shrugged. “’m still your best agent tho.”

“Please,” Merlin entered the room, an IPad in hands, ready to the briefing. “put the blame on me for being able to hack into almost anything, including London’s surveillance cameras. She did a wonderful job.”

Merlin stopped right in front of y/n, extending his hand for a handshake. She grabbed it immediately.

“Miss Le Fay. Hope our codenames won’t be a problem.”

“I don’t see why, Sir Merlin. The witch from who I borrowed my name could very easily have been Merlin’s apprentice.”

No awkward pressure thing, from what Eggsy could see. Why were his interactions with her so bloody awful? For god’s sake, y/n was joking with Merlin!

It took him a moment to remember what history the two were referring to: Morgan Le Fay was a witch in King Arthur’s story, from where Kingsman got their codenames. Depending on the version, she can be portrayed as Merlin’s enemy, responsible for the death of King Arthur or as a powerful good woman, that had healing powers and could shape shift. For an organization like Amethyst, Eggsy supposed the second option was the one they had in mind.

Merlin greeted Yijun with a respectful “ma’am” before selecting something on his device, the projection of a document showing up on the wall above y/n.

“The techs over Amethyst sent us their reports on missing people, and turns out the man who you two,” Merlin looked at Eggsy and y/n. “saw is Adrian Bell. Seven months ago, he apparently went on a trip to India, but his family didn’t hear about him after he left. He never showed up on the airport camera footage.”

“So... he planned to disappear?” Interfered Eggsy.

“Apparently, yes. But there’s a problem.” Merlin changed the projection, it now being a series of pictures, especially ones where Bell hugged his family tightly, his wife crying, and his kids glued to his leg. It looked like a reunion. “He doesn’t remember anything and woke up asking for his family. His last memory was being in a bar and passing out. He thinks that he was in an alcoholic coma.”

Eggsy was about to ask a lot of questions, but Merlin had started talking again, while taking two Kingsman’s RayBans out of his pocket, giving each woman a pair.

“I’ve made a partnership with the group of cooperative organizations led by Amethyst, also called D.E.A.R; Diamond, Emerald and Amethyst Relations -” Introduced Merlin, but Eggsy wasn’t really paying much attention to him.

Instead, he was observing y/n, who hesitantly spun the glasses in her hands, analysing it, differently from Yijun, who just put them on right away. Her mouth twitched on the side, and she started to bite her tongue, as if trying to distract and put herself together. Y/n put them on, but kept looking down for some seconds, before fixing her posture and raising her head, crossing her arms, still leant against the wall on one shoulder.

It was quite weird seeing y/n wearing the glasses. Even though she had noting that could possibly remind him of Roxy, Eggsy couldn’t stop the deja vu of his best friend. A sad smile adorned his lips. He missed her.

A Kingsman-style hologram of a young 16-year-old girl appeared sitting on one of the chairs, big extravagant round sunglasses framing her face along with bright pink streaks on her brown hair. Although she was a teenager (and dressed like one, in a jean jacket and a white tee that said “girl power” in red), she sat perfectly straight, very professionally.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Tonks, Emerald’s tech and field agent. I just came back from an information gathering mission.” which, as a previous Emerald’s agent, y/n knew was just a fancy description for attending parties. Nothing too dangerous, especially for Emerald’s missions, that were more based in socialization and keeping an eye on people. Actually, y/n was impressed that Tonks had something substantial to report (especially to Kingsman) in a high school party. “A group of unmatchable individuals seems to be working together, all of them acting really uncharacteristic and very patronized. I detected the group spiking other teen’s drinks. I managed to intervene and get a sample of it. Agent Spellman also reported a strange movement, alike the one I observed, with a college group. We sent the samples to our biotechs, and the lab concluded it was a modified Mikey Pinn.” The girl grabbed her phone and sent something, the IPhone message sound reverberating through the room. “Now you have access to our outhouse cameras, Merlin.”

Merlin quickly changed the projection above y/n to eight squares of video that showed each teen in one small room, some asleep on the beds, some walking around nervously, and one passed out on the floor. Tonks started talking again.

“Spellman and I brought the group of high school and college students to our outhouse. Whatever drug they’re on soon will wear off, and then we’ll be able to analyse what happened to them.”

“Was that the first ever occurrence on your field, Tonks?” Asked Yijun, and then turned to the Kingsman’s, explaining; “Emerald agents that work on high schools usually only have to get in action to stop violence and abuse at their missions. Situations like what we’re dealing with right now is uncharacteristic.”

“No, Boss. Some students stopped going to classes suddenly, but we checked: they all were confirmed on exchange programs abroad. Apparently, they never went.”

Y/n wasn’t leant on the wall anymore. She’d walked to the table, bent over it, hands open, pressed on the cold wood, all her attention on Tonks. Tension.

“Who were the kids? High school and college. Why choose them?” She said.

Tonks flipped through her phone, messaging Merlin more documents - the ring once again filling the room - before answering.

“A rugby player, two perfect grade kids and a foreign student were the high school kids. Apparently, it’s a pattern: physically strong people and awarded students that stand out for their knowledge of exact sciences.”

“Have you tracked were they were drugged the first time?” Continued y/n.

“Not yet, but...”

“I did;” said Merlin, suddenly, typing on his IPad.

A new image showed up on the wall. The front of a bar that looked like it used to be fancy ten years ago. Now, the paint was coming off the walls, and the huge opaque black doors were rusted, chains and a big old padlock kept them closed. It had no name on the outside, only a broken light up waning crescent moon, just the inferior part working, shining in a weak yellow light.

Eggsy knew the place. Actually, every teen and young adult in London knew Moonz: the flat broke bar that let underage kids come in and drink. You didn’t even need a fake ID, they would pretend to not be able to do math and let kids in. In some months, it became domain of teens, turning into a considerably safe place for them to get drunk and party. Also, it was the cheapest place to get booze.

But the underage drinking caused a bigger problem; since it was illegal, the neighbourhood didn’t have a lot of cops because the owner kept them away. Consequently, Moonz’s location became a centre of violence, kidnapping, and other heavy crimes.

The young Galahad saw y/n turn to the projection in slow motion, the act of being casual being thrown out of the window. For Eggsy, she looked like a robot who got rebooted and installed a completely different system of command. When she spoke again, her voice was strong and deep.

“Tonks, do you know when it started?”

“It?” Asked Eggsy.

“The kidnappings.” Y/n answered. “The fact that they were drugging others looks like it was a kidnapping system. In this context, those kids were “recruiting” more teens.”

Tonks checked her phone.

“No, Morgan. We couldn’t track it. They apparently are the first ones to come back.”

“Shit.” Y/n paced around the room. “Boss, permission to do an observation and protection mission at Moonz.”

“Permission granted” nodded Yijun “take Galahad with you.”

“Yi, I don’t think the gentlemen can pass as a teenager.” Y/n had stopped walking. She looked straight into Eggsy’s eyes. “With all due respect...”

Yijun shook her head.

“You know there are other ways to get him inside undercover.”

Y/n ran her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath. Eggsy could almost hear her thinking “Fuck. Fine.”.

“C’mon Galahad, we’ve got a job to do.”

Eggsy and Y/n were almost out of the room when Yijun called her agent again.

“Oh and Y/n.” The girl turned around. “Don’t engage. I’ll send Emerald agents to protect the kids, but you and Galahad can’t have your covers blown up. Do. Not. Engage. Do you understand?”

All Y/n did was nod slightly.

If you made it to here, thank you so much! I hope it was worth your time! Some feedback would be appreciated, I really wanted to see if you liked this (dumb) Eggsy I’m presenting.... If you don’t want to be in the taglist anymore, I totally understand! Just message me :)

Also!!!! Feel free to message me any questions about the fic and this chapter! I have some fun reasons for choosing those codenames and Diamond, Emerald and Amethyst as the names for the organization!

Amethyst taglist

@a-dorky-book-keeper @50shadesofuncomfortable @arizonacolleen @infinity-of-high-dreaming @toasty-fish @pink-smarties @mc225g @dadd-ilf @sueeatstheworld @katorgatorgalaxy @the-ink-and-salt-club @incorrect-mcdanno @xelizabethvalentinex @ahyestheandersons @thatdamnokie @wxxnks @awesomewees @ryedikkulus @discodeak @clacestan @y-dadd

(If you got the notification again, sorry! I had a problem with the taglist and had to do it again!

#kingsman #kingsman fanfic #kingsman eggsy #kingsman au #eggsy unwin #eggsy imagine #eggsy x reader #harry hart

35 notes · View notes

fingerguneds · 5 years ago

Note

Stozier + going to the movies

im like one hundred percent sure this is not what you wanted and it turns out i dont know what a drabble is so it’s 4.4k long but um..yeah hope you like it

Richie is tired. Okay, “tired” is actually a litotes — he’s fucking exhausted. Two weeks of pre-holiday classes — two weeks of deadlines, exams and final test, two weeks of nervous breakdowns and panic attacks for all students, and for him, probably the biggest procrastinator in their year, it was a hell ride. Sugar-high, coffee-flavoured satanic ritual.

But in the end, he finished up good, of course he did, because not only he’s a phenomenal fuckup of a person with a pathological time-management crisis, he’s also a smart fucking guy. And now, after his last French exam, it’s only fair that he goes home and tries to recover from his two weeks long sleep deficit, but…no.

The problem is, he promised Bill to accompany him to the new Star Wars film premiere, they got the tickets days ago, and even though Richie feels like throwing up and lying in his puke for a month and crying helplessly about of it, he promised. And it’s not just someone, it’s Bill, his best friend, and the newest part of Star Wars! And maybe, if three Red Bulls and two strawberry-flavoured Fantas didn’t make his heart stop, another large-sized slushie won’t either. His heart’s a strong one, it’s been to hell and back and he can show you vouchers — his student’s record book, thank you very much.

“You’re gonna have diabetes,” Eddie, Bill’s boyfriend, intones, when Richie arrives to their apartment to pick up Bill with a venti gingerbread latte in his right hand. “Feed him something or come up with a good eulogy,” he tells Bill, standing on tiptoe to leave a quick peck on his cheek.

“But your mom told me I shouldn’t ever force myself to eat—” Richie tries, but Bill pushes him out of the apartment with a sigh and closes the door, leaving Eddie’s pink-cheeked and ready-to-fight face behind it.

“Sure you’re not hungry?”

“It’s always like that when you miss a night of your beauty sleep,” Richie grimaces as they get into the elevator. “But we still can grab something to go.”

“McDonalds?”

Richie chuckles. As kids, they always went to McDonalds before films, hiding burgers and fries in their little hats in winter or bringing a special backpack “for illegal purposes only” in summer so the cinema boys wouldn’t kick them out, or worse — make them throw everything away. Now, no one cares whether you bring your own snacks or not, and they actually finish their food while driving, but there’s still a lingering touch of nostalgia to the whole process.

They’re barely on time, because Richie insisted on buying a goddamn slushie, although the line was fucking enormous, and yet they take their seats exactly one minute before upcoming film trailers begin. They’re both excited as hell, the slushie tastes amazing after the first proper meal he’s had since yesterday’s evening (yes, fries, nuggets and a Big Mac is a meal, unlike two Kit Kats and a bag of Doritos), and yet…nothing goes as planned.

After fifteen minutes of the film, Richie starts to zone the fuck out. The food is still warm in his belly, his winter scarf he didn’t pull off is soft and comfortable under his crooked neck, his eyelids feel like the only thing heavier than them is his head. He tries, he really does, he clears his glasses twice, he finishes his slushie with the largest gulps to wake up, he bites the insides of his cheeks, but it’s all pointless.

Thirty minutes into the film, and Richie’s gone.

***

“Richie! Richie, wuw-wake up! Oh my guh-god, I’m so suh-sorry, he—Richie!“

Bill sounds nervous. His childhood stutter comes back when he is. There’s a tug at Richie’s hand he barely registers.

“It’s okay,” someone chuckles curtly right above Richie’s ear. “At least his hair is clean.”

Um, rude.

Well, maybe in a different situation, Richie wouldn’t have thought that it’s rude. Like, it’s always nice when people have clean hair. Yes.

But.

He’s diabolically tired. His nerves are nothing but a strained, stiff line that is in an alarming danger to snap and slap you in the face, his mind is dangerously aggressive, meeting every single thing with feverish hostility, and Richie doesn’t even wonder if it’s him the voice is talking about. Even if it’s not, it’s still rude. He tries to remember when he last washed his hair — this morning, to not die before emerging from his flat. And his shampoo is nice too, it’s his mom’s shampoo, because he has her curls and—

“Richie!”

He straightens up abruptly, as if someone just kicked him in the balls, eyes still blurry, like a newborn bird’s.

“Ye.”

Someone starts laughing.

“He sounds like that vine.”

Richie blinks and turns to his left, still not quite conscious of the situation, yet quite aware that this someone’s laughing at him.

The first boy he sees sits one seat away from Richie, but he’s leaning forward, elbows on knees, face on the palms of his hands. He’s the one who said about the vine (Richie’s almost one hundred percent sure he knows which vine), and although Richie feels very attacked, he has to admit, the boy’s cute. He has dark skin, dark eyes, jawline to kill (and to die) for, and his smile is so wide and genuinely nice that it would be a shame to get mad at the owner.

Fuck this guy, he’s educated on vines and he’s hot. If it wasn’t for the “basically a ray of sunshine” part, Richie would fall.

And then there’s the asshole. He opens his mouth again.

“The peanut baby vine?” Richie looks at the mop of curly dark-blond hair, currently hiding the said asshole’s face as he turns to look at the first guy, and Richie’s offended diva is back. He may be a fuckup, but no one has a right to say anything about his hair with a voice like this. Even if it’s greasy as fuck, knotty and smells like used oil, like everyone’s hair smells after visiting places where kitchens are inside the main room and they just keep frying the shit out of food right in front of you; even then, no one can say shit about his hair, even—

“Yeah, that one,” the dark-skinned guy laughs again, and the curly asshole turns to face Richie.

No one can say shit about Richie’s hair, even if they own Cupid’s face. No joke, the guy—pardon, the motherfucker looks like an epitome of Cupid from the Psyche myth (not the fat winged baby). Richie quickly gets mad at himself for paying this much attention to the guy, but know your enemy, right? Know your enemy — their hair dark blond hair, like fields of rye in November, their plump pale lips and pale, although with a warm undertone, skin with an almost invisible constellation of freckles on the wings of his nose, their eyes and their dark, muddy colour Richie can’t really identify in the poor lighting of the auditorium. They’re bright with joy and fox-like curiosity, yet insolent and a little arrogant; daring.

Seriously, do people have to be this pretty? One is hot, like an Abercrombie model you see once and think of for days, the second one is not hot but really, really attractive, like someone who would make a fortune with this intense stare, peeling you off right there, where you’ve had a misfortune to capitulate.

“Rich,” he feels Bill’s large hand on his shoulder, still participating in this ugly staring competition with the curly one. “Guys, we’re sorry ag-again, huh-he’s really tired and doesn’t cuh-control himself.”

Richie blinks and frowns, ready to explode right into Bill’s face, but he cuts him off.

“Come on, Richie, we gotta go.”

They stand up, Richie taking his empty slurpie glass in one hand and looking at the guys again. Everything feels like a dream, his brain is too heavy, his legs disobey, his hands don’t feel like they belong to him.

“ ‘s alright, no big deal,” the first boy says again with the gentlest glimmer to his eyes and the loveliest smile, but Richie…Richie’s tired and bitter and…stupid.

“Yeah, you’re probably used to people leaving after waking up with you,” he says, looking directly into the curly one’s eyes. “Not you, you’re cool,” he winks quickly at his friend, as Bill starts swearing quietly and pulling Richie towards the door.

“Dude,” he says, when they both emerge from the cinema doors, a cig already in his fingers. He offers his pack to Richie without a word.

They smoke in silence, walking towards Richie’s car, and Richie is the one to break it.

“Did I really fall asleep on him?”

Bill chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Yes you did. I didn’t notice until the lights were on.”

“Surprised he didn’t say anything,” Richie mutters, turning the car key.

“You’re too hard on the guy,” Bill huffs out, lips still wearing a lopsided grin. “He didn’t say anything—“

“Yes he did, I heard what he said about my hair, it’s—“

“Rich,” Bill sighs, but he’s not in the least bit mad or disapproving. Bill has always been a keeper of the wonderful gift of understanding. “He said you weren’t a bother and that he’s glad your hair’s not greasy. This is a perfectly normal thing to say, you’re just tired and tensed, and take things too personally. You just need a rest. C’mon, want me to drive you home? I’ll catch a bus to mine, no problem.”

***

The next four days Richie spends at home, sleeping and eating. Sleeping, eating, watching Netflix, thinking about the curly boy, sometimes. Actually, the memory of that day quickly turns into something embarrassing for Richie, something he knows that will make his cheeks grow hot and pink even years later. He was really, really rude to the guy, rude for nothing, and the worst part of the situation is — he can’t apologize. And! The worst-worst part is that the second-to-worst part is — the boy was absolutely gorg dot com. What an unfortunate turn of events: Richie can’t even suck his dick as an apology. Or just suck his dick. Whatever, he’d find a way to make it up to the boy, he’s talented with all parts of his body.

But it’s like falling in love with someone you saw on a train or in line at grocery store. Or maybe slightly worse, because Richie manage to fall fucking asleep on the guy, but still — a crush, doomed to picturesque longing and a quiet little death. It’s all about the masochistic nature of humankind — Richie concludes bitterly to himself, because although he’s a certificated Trashmouth, there’s a pathologically romanticistic heart under all these layers of shit.

No, seriously. He’s too much for everyone, even for himself. Especially for himself.

But enough with this shit, Richie decides the moment next, because his mood swings are the only thing wilder than his imagination. C’est la vie, you fuck up and you keep going until you fuck up again. Maybe there is a lesson he can learn, like to keep his mouth shut when he’s tired or, um, to do his homework in time and not traumatize himself…but it’s Richie. He never learns.

He falls asleep on his couch again, trying to decide what he wants to eat after waking up. God only knows why his actual last thought is so, what the curly boy smelled like?

***

Richie doesn’t remember the last time he’s been to a library. He’s always felt that a book should belong to him for being able to read it comfortably, but when you’re assigned to write a research on Andrei Tarkovskiy’s connection with slavic symbolism…not many books you can find in a regular American bookshop down the street.

The library is huge. The entrance is decorated with ionic columns and the door is so massive Richie barely manages to open it. Inside, it’s just as impressive, with the highest ceilings he’s ever seen and beautiful bookcases and tables of dark wood, situated under big thick windows. Richie undoes his scarf and immediately walks towards the service desk, knowing for sure there’s no way he’ll manage to find anything without help. His steps are loud in the monumental silence of this place.

“Uh, hi?” he says, as quietly as he can, and the boy behind the desk looks up at him and smiles politely.

“Good afternoon. How can I help you?”

“Well,” Richie chuckles, trying to hope for the best. “Do you happen to know any books related to slavic symbolism in Soviet cinematography, Andrei Tarkovskiy’s specifically?”

The boy arches his eyebrows. Richie smiles unsurely and gets ready to shrug it off and maybe convince his lecturer to change his topic of research.

“I’ll have to be honest, I have no idea how to help you, sir, but my colleague, who is currently in the section number eight is probably more educated on this matter.”

“Oh, okay,” Richie nods, considering to leave the place right now, but the boy’s softest, a little apologetic smile decide for him.

“It’s to the left, straight up until you see the number.”

“Thank you very much,” Richie tells him and turns towards the rows of bookcases.

12, 11, 10, 9…here it is.

The amount of books is almost frightening. The bookshelves are no less than two and a half meters tall, and Richie immediately imagines one of these things crashing epically right on his head. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath, then turns behind the number Eight.

Five or more bookcases, forming some kind of a wall. In a couple of steps from where Richie’s standing, leaning on one of them, there’s a ladder, and on the ladder, one and a half meters above the floor, there’s a boy with a couple of books in his hands. Richie, even in glasses, can’t really see his face, because the light doesn’t reach it.

“Hi,” the boy speaks up first, although Richie decides to wait until he’s finished. It’s like, dangerous. The whole construction looks…unsafe. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, hello, uh, the boy at the desk told me you could help me to find some resources on slavic symbolism in Andrei Tarkovskiy’s films?”

Richie doesn’t notice that he’s holding his breath. The boy’s hands don’t stop, they don’t even flinch, he surely keeps placing the books one by one to where they belong. They’re both silent for a long minute.

“I’m not sure I can help you to find something with both Andrei Tarkovskiy and slavic symbolism, but you could look through slavic symbolism analysis in Russian art in general and the language of Andrei Tarkovskiy’s separately.”

Motherfucker.

“Oh wow, that would actually—“

“Also on the Internet there are a lot of articles on what inspired Tarkovskiy’s methods, if I were you I’d check them out as well.”

The last two books stay tucked under his arm, and that is when he begins to climb down.

“God, lemme help you,” Richie’s heart trembles and starts beating faster at the sight of how tremendously dangerous the boy’s position looks, and he rushes towards the ladder.

“I’m alri—“ the boy turns his head to look at Richie, and when their eyes meet and the spark of recognition explodes between them, two things happen at once: first, Richie’s heart stops, and second, the boy falls down the ladder.

“Bloody fuck,” Richie breathes out, already on his knees beside the boy’s sprawled body. It’s him, of course it’s him, his curly hair, pale freckles on heart-shaped face, but now it’s all red, wearing a grimace of breathless pain. Richie’s so shocked he doesn’t know what to do. The boy turns to lay on his back and a hard moan escapes his lips.

“Oh God, oh fuck, what the—“

“Shut up,” the boy manages to say, chest trembling from the efforts to control his breath. “Shut up and call the—“

“Stan! Jesus, what happened!?”

The other boy is now here too, Richie sees him with the corner of his eye. He looks back though, quickly inspecting the boy’s—Stan’s body.

“What does it look like,” he mocks, cheeks darker than a pomegranate. If Richie wasn’t so terrified, he would appreciate this. Like, a lot. “Call an ambulance, quick, I think my collarbone is broken.”

“Oh my God,” Richie and the other boy mutter in unison, and Stan rolls his eyes.

“Well unfortunately, it’s not my fucking neck, so I’m kind of in pain right now and would really appreciate—“

“God, yes, sorry, yes.”

Richie too pulls out his phone, hands shaking, while Stan closes his eyes and tries to remain unmoving. There’s not much Richie can do, but it’s still something. The other boy’s panicked voice is explaining something in the background. Every ring lasts forever, and when Eddie finally picks the phone, Richie’s sure he almost had a heart attack. Twice.

“Eds? Hi, listen, what do I do if someone breaks their collarbone?”

He accidentally catches Stan’s unreadable stare and looks away, heart already on fire.

“What? Richie, what the fuck, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m just—“

“Did anyone break their collarbone?”

“Well it looks like this, yeah.”

“Did you call—“

“Yeah, but—“

“Okay, fuck, okay, most importantly, do not try to move the body until they arrive, it’s really fucking important, got it? Let them stay where they are, immobilize the shoulders completely, also—do you have ice there?”

“Do you—“ Richie turns to the other boy, but he’s still on the phone, so he has to ask Stan. “Do you have ice?”

Stan blinks, and for the first time, Richie notices that he’s balancing his head above the floor. It’s clear lowering it hurts him. Oh, and his pride is too hard-to-swallow to ask for help. It’s hot.

“Yes, I think we do.”

“Yeah, we do,” Richie repeats and moves awkwardly on his knees to help Stan keep his head up. Stan freezes for a second, but then blinks and relaxes into Richie’s hands.

“Use it for pain, you can give them an ibuprofen too, but don’t let them move, Richie, okay!? Now tell me what the fuck—“

“Later, Eds, thanks a lot, bye,” Richie breaths out as fast as he can and focuses on Stan.

Even upside down, he looks pretty.

Fuck.

Richie, shut the hell up, you’ll think about this later, you sick fuck.

Stan looks him in the eye, and Richie sees that those irises are brown. They’re bright with accidental tears, framed with dark thick lashes, and the colour is not exactly brown, more like greenish-brown, like pine tree needles three weeks after Christmas.

“You shouldn’t move,” Richie says, back to reality. “You shouldn’t move, we need ice and you’re allowed to take an ibuprofen.”

“They’re gonna be here in ten minutes,” the other boy finally joins them, face as red as Stan’s. Actually, even worse: red is his neck and probably his shoulders are too.

“Could you bring me some ice? And a glass of water with an ibuprofen?” Stan asks him, and Richie’s finally calmed down enough to notice how calm Stan is, although the situation is…literally the craziest he’s ever been in. He moves his leg to support his arm holding Stan’s head. Fuck, those curls are soft. Not like Richie’s, Richie’s are soft too, but Stan’s are in thicker rings, curling tenderly around Richie’s pale fingers, licking the boy’s unhealthily pale sweaty forehead.

“Like what you see?” Richie hears Stan’s voice and meets his intense gaze again. There is this daring glimmer to his eyes again, and Richie willingly accepts it.

“Dude, stop,” he chuckles weakly, licking his lips. “ You know I’m already in love.”

Despite their position, Stan huffs, but then his face skews of pain.

“Shh,” Richie winces and moves his fingers in an instinctive soothing motion. “You’re gonna be fine soon.”

“It’s not that bad, just a collarbone. Happens to people all the time.”

“At least it didn’t break through your skin,” Richie blurts out and regrets it immediately, cheeks flaming up.

But then, Stan chuckles. There’s a dimple in one of his cheeks, the left one. Richie’s almost sure his eyes are fully heart-shaped by now.

“Here,” the other librarian boy rushes up to them with what looks like a towel, stuffed with ice cubes, and a glass of water.

He puts a pill in Stan’s lips and lets him drink carefully, then passes Richie the towel.

“Tell me where,” Richie murmurs, and despite how fucked up the situation actually is, this feels oddly intimate. He lowers the towel and feels how more tensed Stan grows.

“A bit—yeah,” he breathes out, and Richie presses down a little.

“Told you you should’ve taken a lunch break,” the librarian guy mumbles softly, and for a moment Richie thinks he’s gonna cry.

Stan rolls his eyes. Richie keeps holding. Somewhere near the door bursts open.

***

“This shit’s surreal,” Bill says after a long pause, when Richie calls him from the hospital an hour later. “I don’t believe this.”

“Fair enough,” Richie nods to himself, inspecting his shoes. “And yet.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Probably something stupid,” Richie hears Eddie’s voice and grins.

“You’re absolutely correct, Edward.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” comes an answer, and Richie thanks him once again for helping out.

“Trust me, I was ten times worse.”

“It’s actually unbelievable,” Bill says again, and Richie knows the face he’s probably wearing at the moment: blue eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed in the slightest bit, one corner of his lips crooked a little. “If it’s not fate, I don’t know what it is.”

“Ooooow,” Richie and Eddie fondly mock him in unison, and Richie knows for sure someone’s gonna get some when he hangs up. “Don’t get too emotional, Big Bill, Edster likes it rough, just like his mom.”

“Oh for fuck’s—“ Eddie’s scandalized howl is the last thing he hears before the line goes silent, and he’s alone again, with the most shit-eating smirk on his face.

The other librarian boy — Ben, he learned when the ambulance arrived — stayed at the library, and Richie was secretly happy to accompany Stan to the hospital alone, although he insisted a couple of times that Richie doesn’t need to.

Richie’s stomach growls and he needs a fag asap, but there’s no way he’s missing Stan. God only knows when he’s at the library again, and Richie needs…Richie needs to talk.

And when Stan, with a sling supporting his hand, walks out of the emergency room, Richie stands up, not being able to help a smile forming on his face.

“Don’t you have other things to do?” Stan asks him, but he’s not annoyed. He looks tired and disheveled, but still calm, and Richie notices that they’re both the same height. Stan’s all legs though, all legs and curls.

“You’re the most important one on the list,” Richie answers automatically, and Stan purses his lips, clearly unimpressed. His eyes glimmer brighter, though. “Hungry?”

Stan graciously arches his dark eyebrow.

“Are you—“ he cuts himself off, clearly thinking it’s a bad idea, but when Richie keeps waiting (politely, although he’s nervous as fuck, because hello to today’s third heart attack), he licks his lips and starts again. “Are you trying to ask me out?”

“Maybe?” thank God his voice sounds much, much more confident than he, in fact, is.

Richie probably needs to get comfortable with Stan needing a moment of silence to think good. Unlike other people that start…to ramble.

“Sorry, I’m just used to people leaving after waking up with me.”

Richie’s jaw hits the floor harder than that meteor hit the Earth and fucked up the dinosaurs. Go off, Stan the Man, go the fuck off.

And he doesn’t even look proud of himself. It’s as casual for him as it is for Richie to tell your dad a mom joke. For Heaven’s sake, who is this guy?

“Well,” Richie squeaks, feeling that his body is on again, as if something blew his fuse for a moment. “It’s not happening any time soon, pretty boy,” he points at Stan’s sling, “so I thought maybe I could try something different.”

“Like what?” he’s smiling now. Legit.

“A dinner? A couple of them? Maybe films? Although I’ll have to be careful with this one, your shoulders are fragile now.”

Stan’s smile becomes even wider as Richie continues to ramble, and although it’s not the brightest and sunniest smile he’s ever seen, it sure feels like the most precious one. It feels like a reward.

It still feels like the most precious reward, weeks later, when they finally wake up together and Richie only leaves to pee and to make them a coffee. Months later, when Richie lets his hand slide down Stan’s shoulder and feels the slightest crook to his collarbone with the tips of his fingers. Years later, after some shitty horror film about some monster clown who eats kids, when he proposes in that empty cinema auditorium, in those exact seats.

Stan still needs a minute to think good, but his burning, incandescent smile says everything Richie needs to know.

#i hope this is believably unbelievable though #stozier #kaspbrough #drabble #okay we concluded its not a drabble #ficlet #...i guess?#stanley uris #richie tozier #mine

69 notes · View notes

smellycinnamonthundahfudge · 5 years ago

Text

here we are, folks, mama's gonna write another one of these things so sit down and enjoy some post-hoco peter starts to fall for mj shits

sigh why do i even bother

Caught Stealing

Peter likes to think he's been doing pretty good at this whole superhero thing for quite a while now; saving people, giving directions, catching thieves. Things have been going pretty great.

But the one thief he didn't expect to show up on his radar was one that didn't even show up when he was in spidey-mode, oh no, this one showed up when he was regular ol' peter parker for crying out loud. Just one day at another one of these acadec meetings, Peter Parker saw MJ try to steal a glance at him while he was on a call with Happy, and his brain was left on buffer for the rest of the call, the meeting, and pretty much the entire week after.

"Hey, Ned, hav you ever seen MJ like... look at me?" Peter asks Ned in the cafeteria while MJ wasn't there yet (he's brave enough to go through flames with a broken leg to save Liz's supervillain dad but hell if he's brave enough to talk about a potential crush just mere feet near said crush).

"Yes," answered Ned without even looking, and just continued eating his tuna sandwich lunch.

"What!?" Peter exclaims slightly loudly making him take a look around him to see if anyone (MJ) might have noticed. To his relief, no one did what with all the conversations happening in the cafeteria and MJ still wasn't there. "When were you going to tell me?"

Ned swallows the bite he just took, "I thought you did know."

"Well, clearly I didn't. I've been pretty busy with ~something~ as you know."

"Pfftt yeah and you were also crushing pretty hard on Liz if I can also recall."

"Okay, okay fine whatever, we've already established I've been busy. I just- how long have you known? Or how long have you noticed it was going on?"

"You seriously haven't noticed?" Ned asks genuinely a bit shocked that Peter didn't know.

"Dude, I'm telling you I haven't-" Peter repeats for the nth time, frustrated he still doesn't know how long this has been going on. "How long?"

Ned lets out a chuckle of disbelief, "Pretty much since halfway through freshman year, bro. Wow, I can't believe you really haven't noticed. Some Peter-tingle you've got there."

Peter lets out a huff of frustration, "It doesn't work that way. And ugh can you please not call it the Peter-tingle? I already get enough of that from Aunt May."

Ned turns his hands up in defeat and just proceeds to continue eating his lunch again.

"I can't believe this, has it really been going on for that-"

"Hey, losers," MJ greets to their table, finally showing up to their usual spot.

"MJ!" Peter almost shouts from shock. Man, Ned might be right, his (ugh) Peter-tingle just wasn't working right now.

MJ snorts from Peter's reaction, "Yes, Peter, it is me, MJ, the girl who's been sitting next to you guys for the better part of a year now,' MJ mock explains. "You doing okay there, Pete?" MJ asks finally taking a seat.

"Yeah, yeah, just a bit jumpy, I guess..."

"Alright, whatever. What can't you believe has been going on for that long?"

"What?"

"When I got here, you were saying you can't believe it's been going on for that long. What has?"

Peter looks to Ned in a panic and he blurts out "Spiders!" in response, making Peter face palm himself on the table.

"Spiders?" MJ still asks, being what Ned said did nothing to explain anything.

"Yeah... Peter's had this really intense phobia of them ever since we went on that fieldtrip. He accidentally slipped in the bathroom this morning cause he saw a spider and he couldn't believe he still hasn't gotten over his phobia," Ned explains lies so casually, but by the end of it sighs and gives Peter a not really that subtle thumbs up.

Peter on the other hand is semi-frustrated over having to lie to MJ about TWO things in his life now and the fact that his best friend just made him seem like a scaredy cat that actually slips in the bathroom from seeing a spider. His frustration doesn't last though cause he's just waiting to see if MJ actually buys Ned's load of spider phobia bs.

"Oh, okay-" MJ thinks about how they were probably talking about spider-man things before she came but decides to just go along with their excuse and thinks about a possible cause of the phobia on the very highly unlikely (at least in her opinion) chance that Ned was actually telling the truth, remembering Peter's uncle dying just a few weeks after the fieldtrip and feeling bad for Pete so she offers up a solution or maybe just something to comfort him.

"You know, they say that to get rid of a phobia, exposure therapy works, so maybe it'll make you feel better to know that humans swallow up to like 10 spiders in an entire year," MJ jokes a bit awkwardly and pointedly that she just proceeded to eat her meal after finishing her sentence.

It makes Peter chuckle for a bit though so MJ releases that breath she didn't know she was holding and continues to avert her eyes to her meal and just continue eating.

"Wow, MJ yeah sure, nothing'll make me feel better like knowing there's probably like hundreds of tiny spiders inside me right now," Peter remarks sarcastically making MJ laugh as he fake shivers.

"Glad I could help," MJ winks and then averts her eyes again to get her book so she could read while eating, signalling she was ready for this convo to end (she wasn't going to be able to talk after what she can't believe she just did).

And Peter's kinda glad she does end it because holy sh- did, did MJ really just wink at him right now? Did that just happen?

Peter looks to Ned for confirmation who could only shrug in response being just as unsure about what to make of it as well.

Wondering what the hell just happened is the last thought circling inside Peter's brain while Ned just changes the subject to something else that didn't even register to Peter.

MJ may actually ACTUALLY like him, and Peter doesn't have a single clue what to do about it.

Nothing as it turns out, cause as the rest of the week passes without fanfare, it seems like Peter's finally regaining his sanity again as he thinks that maybe MJ looking at him was just MJ being MJ and he goes back to thinking of MJ as his friend and not the smart funny pretty girl who might have a crush on him, which she doesn't.

Until, yet again, Happy interrupts Peter at this week's acadec meeting and he steps outside to take the call.

"What, Happy? I told you I was busy during saturdays with acadec, what do you want?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know I was talking to Mr. Bigshot here. You know, I started on Stark Industries as a dri-"

And with that, Peter just proceeded to wince and hit himself with his phone, knowing he just made this phone call twice as long as what it probably would have been. He starts to just block out what Happy is saying and takes a peek at what he's missing at acadec.

Flash is asleep at the sidelines, must have been that party Peter saw he was having posted and streamed all over social media, it was so annoying. Ned, Cindy, Sally, and Abe were all on a roll tossing out answers back to back, Eddie was blanking and swearing the answer was at the tip of his tongue, and MJ as usual, was running the drills.

Yet again, Peter was thinking about how wonky his brain must have been to actually think that MJ, don't give an f what anyone thinks acadec team cap MJ, actually liked him.

But it seemed Peter must have been staring for too long because MJ noticed and glanced at him too, making Peter panic and immediately avert his eyes to a different direction, any direction at that. God, why was he this awkward?

But god help Peter Parker who must just be an awkwardness masochist because he couldn't help but just sneak a peek once again, only to see MJ was still looking at him and he must have had some ridiculous shocked expression on his face because the slightest grin started to appear on MJ's face and she looked away with almost- was that- A BLUSH?? a blushing expression on her face??? did that? she just? whattttt????

But before Peter could even get himself together, MJ looked back at him again only to grin over the fact Peter was still looking at her and roll her eyes over how ridiculous this wordless convo they were having across the room was, that she just snickered and gave a silent hi and subtle wave hidden from their team mates just below the podium.

Peter found himself grinning like an idiot too and could only give one awestruck wave which made MJ snicker and avert her eyes back to their team mates with a barely noticable flush on her face and a blink and you'll miss it, moment where MJ had to think about what she was saying before she and Peter began this cutely wordless reparte across the room.

MJ had to think about what she was going to say. Cool, suave, witty retorts and comebacks MJ seemed to have a moment of speechlessness.

okay.

And so as Peter could only hear a faint "Peter? Peter, are you still listening to me?" from his phone, he knew that he was absolutely, one hundred percent without a single doubt in his mind, truly, and utterly, fucked.

Maybe MJ wasn't the only one who had a crush.

heeyy yooeesss i missed writing mah anxious boi's pov yallssss. i miss writing for them in general huhu. also im probs gonna write a bunch more of these how they fell for each other fics cus i think this version of em/phase of their relationship is pretty underrated hehe

plus i still cant get over ffh pj disapproval so fine i'll just write the middle man fics myself then. it's just so easy to see how pete could fall for mj, i just cant

toot toot and i hope yalls enjoyed dis folks. it's good to be back. rlly missed em, ya know?

#spideychelle #<3 #peter parker #michelle jones #spideychelle is canon bitches #spideychelle is canon

39 notes · View notes

oh-theatre · 5 years ago

Text

Objection!: Chapter 12

Chapter title: Douleur Exquise

A/n: Oh no! Another chapter im not proud of! Even though I rewrote it FIVE MILLION TIMES! Whatever I don't care anymore,,, WAIT THAT'S A LIE I DO CARE. Anyway, I love the idea of Royality just knowing they like who they like, it's cute. Um poor Virge, my bby I love him. Leave me some comments if you so, please!

First | Previous | Next

words: 4790

summary: Roman doesn't listen to doctors' orders, which doesn't go well for him. There are new developments in the case.

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, passing out/fainting, Crime Scene, dead bodies, crying

Ao3 Link

“So he's actually doing it?” Virgil questions, Logan nods opening the door for the detective. “Thanks” he responds walking into the courthouse. Virgils not sure how to feel, this is all hes wanted for years, this one wish never-changing. “I want to help” Logan stops him, cocking his head.

“It's really not a good idea” Logan reprimands, Virgil huffs hanging his coat on the rack. The pair make their way to the front desk. “He's extremely...fragile” Logan chooses his words carefully “Asking for help was already a lot...he will come to you when he is ready” Logan decides, Virgil hides a smirk. It's been a hot second since the pair had hung out and it was always enjoyable.

“Fine, but I want to help at some point” Virgil warns, Logan gives him a coy smile. “What? I practically built that case, don't think it's fair you get all the credit” he mumbles. Logan thanks Jenny before walking away.

“Yes because that's the goal here, credit” Logan begins, stuffing his pass away. Virgil hangs his around his neck, not understanding Logan's point. “Not putting away a man whose been awfully cruel to our friend” Logan keeps his eyes forward and his words simple.

“Ok, I got it Velma” Virgil sighs resigned “Obviously I want to put Liam away...I’m just- Oh you have got to be kidding me” Virgil mutters, his focus in an entirely new place. Logan follows his angry glare, his tensed shoulders releasing as his eyes fall on Roman. “I'm going to kill him” Virgil starts making his way to the judge.

“If he doesn't die first, you mean” Logan whispers to himself, a regular amount of concern for the injured judge taking over as he follows Virgil.

“Ah! Good morning Virgil, Logan” Roman greets, he bids farewell to some colleagues before turning fully to his friends. Good morning? He has the audacity to stand here against doctors' orders, and say good morning? Virgil might be fuming now.

“Your doctor told you to stay home today!” Virgil exclaims, both Logan and Roman turn to shush him. Logan looks around at the other patrons, apologizing. “Don't shush me! You are in no condition to be working today” he angry whispers, heeding their volume warning. Roman might be flattered, had it not been the same thing, for once Virgil needed to just give him...the benefit of the doubt.

“Virgil, really, I am fine” Roman assures, keeping his serenity intact. His doctor had warned against getting too emotional, he listens sometimes. “Plus, I won't be doing anything heavy-duty anyway” Virgil folds his arms doubtful. The judge hated anything less than heart thrilling. “Just some paperwork I need to catch up on” He lies, well not entirely. He wouldn't be going into court today, and he would be doing paperwork, but he wasn't excited about it.

“You're impossible” Virgil indicates, he gives the judge one more glance before deciding to join a newly arrived Patton checking in. No doubt, to rant about that very same judge.

“You're impossible” Roman mocks childishly, Logan keeps his dead eyes. Roman begins walking away, Logan decides to follow.

“Roman, I had an inquiry” Logan tells him, Roman turns through the hallways, Logan on his toes. They enter his chambers, Roman gesturing for the lawyer to take a seat across from him, he does so. The judge begins organizing his files, sorting them and looking over new notices or reminders. “Will court be in session today?” He asks catching Roman's attention.

“Patton has requested we wait” He informs, signing, presumably some contracts of sorts. Logan's shoulders fall, adjusting his glasses he leans forward.

“D-do you know why?” He pushes further, the judge refuses to meet his eyes, still catching up on work and things he missed. Roman gives a chuckle at Logan's attempt at subtle concern. “Roman?”

“I do not” He replies simply, checking his buzzing phone. “Oh my god…” He groans “I'm going to kill Virgil” He mutters, now it's Logan's turn to laugh. “Got something to say...calculator?” He tries, instantly grumbling in his attempt.

“No no...Nothing, hmm what's the definition of infatuation again?” Logan teases, Roman scrunches his eyebrows. “Infatuation or being smitten is the state of being carried away by an unreasonable passion, usually towards another person for whom one has developed strong romantic or platonic feelings” He recites, one of his many talents.

“What are you saying?” Romans own curiosity peaked, wanting to hear Logan's assessment. Logan leans forward once more, placing his elbows neatly on the table.

“I hypothesize that you are indeed, infatuated with Virgil” He plays, Roman raises a brow an unexpected smirk overtakes his face. Logans taken aback, expecting a different more...emotionally defensive reaction.

“Have been for the past four years but thanks for noticing” Roman responds casually, fully aware of the look of almost shock that riddles Logan's face. “It's not a big thing, I mean he's oblivious to it but it's whatever and I don't really notice anymore.” Roman admits, Logans not sure whether it's his own feelings with the ‘liking’ someone or if he's curious about Romans approach but he has questions.

“Don't you want something to happen?” Logan asks, nothing is...its not...it doesn't make sense. Roman, who had returned to his work, lets out a laugh.

“Of course I do Logan” He staples some papers together “More than anything, but after a while…” He trails off, clearly lost.

“What?” Logan should realize how desperate he sounds, and how hopeless Roman does. But Roman isn't hopeless, he's fallen into a routine, and he's used to the feeling. The tug every time Virgil entered the room, the excitement when he spoke to the detective, the way his eyes slowly darted towards Virgil's lips. It was the little moments, the small things, he treasured just as much, almost more. Sometimes the wait and longing are so much better. Roman wouldn't know however...nothing to compare it to

“Nothing…” Roman shakes his head, he meets Logan's eyes, folding his arms out in front of him. “I'm a hopeless romantic Logan, you should know that by now” He smiles, but it's different, a look he had recognized on Patton so many times. Fake, secretive, sad. Not to Roman… To Roman its...perseverance.

~~~

“If you say ‘kill’ one more time, I might have to report you to the police” Patton sighs, ushering Virgil into his office “Which is ironic, because you are the police” He jokes, Virgil, slumps into the chair across from the lawyer groaning into his jacket. The tight leather, wrapping around his pulsing body, grounding him.

“Well excuse me for being concerned!” Virgil huffs throwing his hands up, leaning back in his chair. Patton nods, a coy smile on his face, as he seats himself in his chair. “He's going to...pass out or...open his wounds or…” Patton turns alert, recognizing something instantly. He reaches over taking Virgil's hand in his own.

“He will be ok” Patton assures, giving his best smile. It's a smile he uses on the twins when they are scared or worried. “Plus, he's got all of us looking after him” He grins wider, Virgil takes a deep breath, realizing there is room for breathing. He's not taking up space, he is ok. “You okay?” Patton checks once more, Virgil swallows, nodding slowly.

“Let's just talk about...anything else” he requests, Patton nods removing his hand from Virgils, opening his laptop. “So...you and Logan and working on a case...I heard” His worry turning quickly to smugness.

“Yes, we are” Patton confirms simply, in fact opening up his files on his laptop. Virgil resumes a more comfortable position in his chair.

“How's that going?” He inquires, genuinely curious. If he wasn't allowed to help, he’d at least like to be in the know.

“It's going good actually…” Patton's face rising quickly into a blush “Logans...more than helpful” He sighs, he's not really looking anywhere in particular. Virgil coughs, he has to pry before...assuming.

“Oh yeah?” He remarks coyly “Tell me more Pat” he's in detective mode now, using what he can to come to a conclusion. It's quite obvious what he's trying to do, but the glazed eyes on his friend suggest he has a fighting chance.

“He’s just being very kind, and…” Patton sighs, twisting his lips “Its nice, to work with him.” Patton fiddles with his hands, falling into a trance. “And...when he gets really focused, his little eyebrows scrunch and he..” Patton giggles, Virgil almost feels bad had it not made both present so happy. “Oh, last night we were working late and..he must have fallen asleep but his glasses dropped just a little and-” Patton pauses noticing the stifled laughter coming from Virgil. “What?”

“You totally like him” Virgil exclaims, pure joy radiating with a hint of smugness. It was nice to fall into this...childish conversation. Taking a load off his shoulders, just letting things not...mean so much.

“This is not new information Virge,” Patton says, typing more into his laptop. Virgil stops now, his eyes growing wide.

“Sorry, what?” Virgil coughs, Patton looks up at him

“I think you're getting a call” And sure enough he was, Virgil, shot his friend a glare before answering, his face falling as the conversation went on. He slams his phone shut, pursing his lips. His foot bounces erratically. “Virge? Everything ok?”

“Three more murders” He shakes his head simply, awaiting Patton's usual reaction of sadness and disgust. Instead, Patton stands

“Well, but that doesn't make sense” He claims, Virgil stops, looking up at him. He makes his way to the side door of his office, where he usually meets with clients. “Because George is right here” He opens the door, revealing a very patient sitting George. Virgil's confusion quickly turns, he's not sure what but his mind sure is racing.

“Pat I gotta-”

“See you later Virge” Patton nods understandingly, alight with a fighting smile. He waves his friend goodbye before exiting the office, he swears he was headed to the doors but something pushed him down a different hall, begging him to walk down the solemn lined path, to a place he wasn't technically supposed to be.

He wasn't expecting to see an ever-growing crowd outside the office but pushed his way through the clamoring group. The room almost instantly shrunk, if he wasn't so adamant to find Roman, he would be heavy-breathing his way out of the room. It's a good thing he was strong and persistent, shoving people aside. It was one of his many skills during school, needing to get through the halls and avoid any eye contact at all. If it was an Olympic sport, Virgil would win gold.

“Yes, yes mister Katchutori, I will get back to you on tha-” Virgil locates the familiar voice. Roman stands behind his desk, speaking into a phone with at least three other people talking to him. “H-hold on one moment please” He turns, taking some files that someone had been practically throwing at him.

“Mister Reial, we need you to look these over and sign them” The man spoke, Roman nods taking them, skimming through quickly.

“Right ok, thanks” He mutters, the man doesn't budge. Virgil doesn't mean to snarl but Roman might as well be juggling as he tries to carry multiple things and keep steady on the phone. “Yes thank you mister Katchutori” He speaks into the phone, rushing through some more ‘okays’ and ‘yes’ before finally hanging up, moving onto signing. Were there always so many files?

“Mister Reial!” Another voice calls out, Roman continues signing but ushers the voice towards him. Virgil's not sure how it happened but soon there wasn't a moment's breath, everything became rapid fire. How could Roman keep up?

“Can you sign this?”

“Yes, leave it o-”

“You’re being requested on November third for judging, will you be available?”

“Check in with my se-

“I'm still waiting on the forms, your honor!”

“Yes, I will get them to you an-”

“We would like an official statement regarding last month's case!”

“You have to be more specific”

“Uh… breaking and entering with mister Tolentino?”

“Of course! Ill g-”

“The forms mister Reial”

“My client sir!”

“Statement!”

“Forms!”

“Your phones ringing”

Virgil saw it just a moment too late, and he almost missed it. Romans head frantically darting around the room trying to keep up, until it slowed. The incessant yelling was too much for Virgil. He had half a mind to tell them all to shut up and get out. Roman's eyes slowed, fluttering to a close as his grip on the desk loosened. Virgil might have been scared at the sight of his body going limp as he fell, had the adrenaline in his body not kicked in as he dove just in time to spare the judge any further injuries.

“Roman!” He exclaims, not sure what it will do but it felt right. Splitting the crowd as he caught Roman, laying him down carefully on the ground, holding him.

“Oh...my god” The silence broke as a small voice chirps. Virgil's fearful gaze turned quickly to anger as he looked to the crowd.

“Someone call nine one one!” He demands, he hears fast shuffling “Everyone else gets out!” He commands. They don't need to be told a second time, the crowd disappearing in the blink of an eye. Soon it was just him, clinging to Roman's body, praying for someone to hurry up.

“I told you…” He whispers, his breath stutters “God, Roman, I told you”

~~~

“Do you want to play snakes with me?”

“No”

“Fair enough” Damian nods, the child scurries away joining his friends. “Have a nice day!” He calls out bouncing. He turns back to his table, seating himself in front of the coloring supplies and building blocks. At least he tried, he can tell Papi.

“I'll play snakes with you” Remus offers, he plops himself across from Damian, his wide eyes staring expectantly at the boy. “How do you play?” He asks, taking a purple block, smashing it on the table. Damian's not sure if he thinks it will reveal something or is this just how kids are. It's better than playing alone, plus he comes from Uncle Pat, how bad can he be?

“You gotta make a snake” He explains, Remus stops, he listens. “Then you gotta slither the snake, and the faster snake wins” He finishes, already crafting his masterpiece. He uses a mix of yellow and orange blocks, connecting them to create a funky pattern. Remus shrugs, simple enough, he gathers mostly green blocks with a few purples mixed in. His little tongue sticking out as he works rapidly.

“Ta-da!” Remus exclaims, pushing his snake towards Damian. Damian pauses his own work, his face scrunching as if eating something too sour. “Snek!” He smiles, prideful.

“It looks like throw up” Damian insults, Remus shrugs, hugging his snake.

“I like it” He defends, as he waits for Damian to finish his snake, he plays with his own. The creature takes a journey around the table, searching the ground for mystery, eventually landing exhausted on Remus’s head. “Imma make an octopus!” he declares, the snake wobbles but evidently the blocks standstill.

“Only snakes!” Damian whines, he takes a quick breath “Only snakes” He mutters to himself, adding the finishing pieces to his own toy. Remus huffs, folding his arms together.

“That's no fun” He moans, sitting down once more, the soft cushion beneath him. “The snakes need friends” He pouts, Damian pays him no mind. They can hear the others shouting and squealing wildly in the background, Valerie, no doubt leading an attack on some mythical kingdom. “Why can't he have more friends?” Remus asks, fiddling with a block in front of him.

“He doesn't need anymore” Damian states, Remus, shakes his head. He makes his way around the table, sitting next to Damian now. “Friends are boring” Damian wiggles his nose, he has friends. Patton, Logan and Roman...and of course Papi.

“Yes we are your friends, but friends your own age Dee,” Virgil tells his son, allowing the small boy to cuddle into him as they rest calmly on the couch.

“But I don't like them, all they do is scream” Damian yawns, watching the flashing light of scooby doo on the screen, he loves the show. Virgil laughs softly, wrapping the blanket further around him.

“I think they're pretty nice” Remus smiles, he was always fidgety but it seemed increased. “I don't have many, but Val is pretty nice” He repeats, huh...Damian thinks, they might not be so different. Remus gasps, throwing his hands in the air as he knocks down a few blocks. Damian tries not to reprimand him, that's a new word he learned. “We can be friends!”

“Ok…” Damian begins, he's not opposed to the proposition but he doesn't know what it will include. “What do I do?” He asks, Remus grins a little too wide. A gap in his teeth revealed, clearly, it's new.

“You just gotta play with me!” He explains, excited he rushes around the table, making his way to the cubbies. Damian follows, his curiosity peaked. “My dada got me these” he shows, opening his bag labeled in bright messy marker ‘Remus Hart’, pulling out three containers. “Its goo!” He hands one to Damian, who inspects the toy, just as his Papi does with his own job.

“Its slime” He detects, holding the container a little further away. Remus shrugs and leads the boy back over to the table.

“What are you doing?” Damian looks up, Valerie stands keeping her exhausted panting steady, she looks over at her brother. “Is that goo?” She questions, Damian sighs, Remus nods.

“Its slime!” The boys recite in unison. Damian hides a coy smile, he can't be that bad, “Wanna play Val?” Remus asks, holding out the final container. She nods excitedly, taking her place next to Remus. He wastes no time throwing it open and letting the green ooze out. Instantly clicking and smashing away, allowing it to stick to all parts of his hands.

“Mm messy” Damian mumbles, his face in clear disgust of the manner. He opens his own cautiously, the gold color is quite appealing. It's cold as he pulls it out, letting it melt on his hands. He pokes it, the clicks and pops of each poke sending a thrill. Soon it becomes second nature, he expands his game, making bubbles and twirling the slime.

The rest of the morning goes by quickly after that, Valerie is soon recruited to join the rebellion of some game, Damian can't keep up. Cindy helps the boys clean up and wash their hands preparing for lunch. For the first time, Damian has somewhere and someone to sit with. He eats in the corner with Remus, eating his perfectly prepared meal while Remus ate his own.

“I made it! Dada said I should try if I wanted to and I did!” Remus exclaims, he shows the contents of his sack lunch to Damian. He wants to say something but is quickly distracted by an overcast hanging over the boys.

“Hey kiddos” Emile's smiling face looks down on them, Damian and Remus share a smile, bouncing up to embrace the sweet man's legs. “Oh! Hello!” He laughs softly, they pull away as Valerie rejoins them, greeting the doctor.

“What are you doing here mister pickle?” Damian asks, Emile kneels down to face them.

“I'm here to pick you up, there's been an...incident and your dads want to..see you” He explains, his speech slow and careful, making sure the kids understand every word. After a few expected questions, the kids agree and pack up their things, promptly meeting Emile by the door. “Ready?”

“Ready” They confirm

~~~

“Roman…” Virgil whispers very softly, maybe if he keeps rubbing his warmth, transferring it from his own hands into Roman the judge will wake up. So he does, sitting by a hospital bed, cupping Romans...lifeless hand. “Come on Roman this isn't...this isn't funny” He pleads, the doctors had no news. They were no help, absolutely none of them. “H-hey! What are you doing” Virgil exclaims, the nurse holding a new IV doesn't jump, probably used to weary members in the hospital.

“Don't worry sir, I am simply changing out mister Reials IV bag, your husband will be ok” She assures kindly if Virgil wasn't so worried, he might have been a little more...stuttered at the assumption.

“He's not my husband,” He says solemnly, eyeing Romans shut eyes, Virgil was holding his hands still ignoring the growing sweat between the two.

“I apologize,” She says finishing her job, she smiles at him before giving the pair privacy. Privacy he hopes he can continue to sustain, he just wants this moment to...to...to figure things out. To take a breath, to allow himself this.

“Ro come on…” He knows it won't help but he hopes somewhere in that...jumbled mind of Roman, Virgil's voice will be heard. “Look, Damian's coming to see you...you don't wanna be asleep right?” he laughs dryly, Damian would be very upset and to be honest Virgil doesn't think he can...deal with Damian crying right now. He knows its selfish, but Romans limp cold state overrules that. “Okay, this is beyond petty” He complains, not sure how to deal with what's happening. “Just wake up ...wake up! Roman wake up!” He's not entirely sure why he began screaming, but it felt good.

“Virge! Hey hey Woah” He turns angrily facing Patton, he drops Romans hand rubbing his head annoyed. “Virge come here” Patton directs, he wastes no time bundling himself up in Patton's arms, crying softly.

“I told him” Virgil mumbles, Patton tightens his grip, “I told him P…”

“I know Virge, I know” Patton rubs comforting circles on Virgil's back before leading him over the chair, wrapping him up in an extra blanket. “Walk me through it...what happened?” He inquires delicately. Virgil sniffles, grateful for the break from staring desperately into what was left of the eccentric figure. So he goes through it carefully, remembering and repeating every step, every move, every word they had said that led up to this moment. After a while, the conversation died down and he got tired, so Patton offered to watch while the sleepy detective got some rest.

“Is he alright?” Patton spins, stopping himself as he paces. Logan enters the room, spotting a bundled Virgil and a less than active Roman. Patton's not sure if he can trust himself to speak, so he nods, slowly. “Are you alright” Another nod, Logan takes his shoulders, an abrupt action but necessary. Patton stops pacing once more, looking up at Logan with folded arms. “Pa-

“He needs to go into surgery, immediately” A team of doctors and nurses enter the room, creating a separation between the pair. Virgil scrambles awake, pushing himself to the front lines. “Sir, we need to get him into surgery,” The nurse says while Virgil blocks her way. It isn't conscious but an impulse. Patton and Logan watch as the medical team, remove Roman from his safety and begin rolling him away, Virgil moves reluctantly, securing a place near Patton. “We will let you know how it goes after we notify his family” The nurse informs before promptly leaving. Virgil takes a few steps back, transferring himself to the edge of the now-empty bed.

“We are his family” He mutters, watching the spot where everything could change.

~~~

“What do we got?” Remy asks, following Carlton into the room. An officer makes their way up to Remy, ready to read his notes.

“Three more murders detective” The officer, Reia, informs. Remy scrunches his brows checking out the room. “Its weird, he's never done it like this. They’re never...together” Reia’s right, its curious. Every time the victims never had any connection and were never associated.

“I think we can do the detecting Reia” Carlton chides, Remy turns to him raising a brow. Reia bows her head, walking back to collect more notes. “Seems Virgil won't be joining us today” he notes.

“Dude, you didn't have to be rude” Remy reminds, Carton scoffs putting on his gloves, hitting with a snap around his wrist. “She's right, ya know?” Remy does the same, walking towards the first victim. “Wheres CSI?” He calls out, a small voice chirps.

“That would be me! Talyn Corste, they/them if you will” They hold out their hand, shaking Remys. He retracts subtly massaging his hand, they've got a strong grip. “The first victim seems to be mid-twenties, presumed female” They move to the body, Remy might've been phased has he not been so used to it. They kneel down, allowing Talyn to lift up the sheet covering the woman. Remy's face drops instantly, the woman is untouched. “You alright detective? Never seen a dead body?”

“You call that dead?” Remy searches for any sign, but she's perfect. Her skin clear, not a hair out of place, her clothes intact. “This couldn't be him, not his M.O” Remy decides, Talyn waits for him to continue. “Were there any letters?” Remu inquires, closing the sheet over the woman.

“Three of them, all written in the victim's blood” Talyn recalls, they try to read Remy's face “Why?” Remy bites his bottom lip, shaking his head.

“Nevermind, what were the letters?” Remy requests, opening his notepad. Talyn gestures for him to follow them, leading Remy to the wall. Three letters, dripping in perfection, written across the white plaster. “W, S and...A” He scribbles down quickly, more to add to Virgil and his horror game of hangman.

“Look, ill give you my notes, but my team and I gotta go,” Talyn tells Remy, he nods, thanking them for their help. Soon enough, the team clears out, leaving Remy and Carlton alone in the apartment. The bodies were cleared out, leaving pictures of the evidence for the detectives. Remy wishes they would take the smell with them, the fumes searing into his brain.

“Seems clean cut to me” Carlton shrugs, Remy jumps remembering he's there. It's weird, he's been working with Virgil for so long, the pair had just developed themselves. A well-oiled machine, but Remy and Carlton? The pieces just don't fit. Remy goes to answer but is distracted by the ringing of his phone.

“Go for Nyx” He answers, turning away from Carlton.

“Hey, Rem…” Virgil's voice comes through the speaker, something is off. His speech is slowed, and weak.

“Hey, are you okay? Where are you?” Remy rushes, fearful but also a tad annoyed.

“Uh, Ro-roman collapsed… and he's in surgery right now and-” A stifled sob can be heard, the sniffling unbearable for Remy. he hates hearing his friend like this. “I-i'm sorry I know...I k-know you're…”

“Hey take it easy, you're ok” Remy assures, he's not sure why he does it but it's become routine. He rubs the ring around his finger, it was a gift from Virgil and Emile. “Look, I've got it, you just take care of yourself and Roman ok?”

“O-ok…” Virgil takes a deep breath “Don't uh..don't tell anyone. I don't want any more scandal or publicity for Roman. I gotta go, Logans freaking out about something...which is unusual so..” Remy laughs dryly

“Alright, bye” Remy closes his phone, shoving it away.

“Was that Virgil?” Carlton questions, Remy nods returning his focus back to the case. He looks over the letter, they have to be saying something. “And why is our partner not present?” He inquires, his voice dripping with...Remy can't explain it. But the way he says anything makes his body squirm, instantly putting up his defenses.

“My partner” He corrects “Is busy with a family emergency, Damian isn't feeling well” Carlton nods carefully, using his eyes to look around the empty apartment. Remy slaps his notepad frustrated. “I don't get it! E, L, I, T, A, L, W, S” He recites “What does it mean argh” Hes upset now, and totally valid too. All these letters and he can't stop people from losing their life. This isn't a game, this isn't a game Remy insists.

“Guess hes just not done” Carlton shrugs, Remy hates how casual he is about this.

“Not done?”

“With killing” Remy shudders, he never knew a voice could have so little...remorse “Seems like you're missing letters, so...you're probably missing victims” he concludes, Remy pauses.

“I do not like you” He states simply, and honestly.

76 notes · View notes

macklives · 5 years ago

Text

homestuck recap

i hated this so fucking much bc my 2 am bitch-ass didnt want to read a recap thats probably longer than any slowburn out there

anyways here it is

also, uhhH sorry im using this as a end of session discussion bc that shit gets explained in her as well. and im not writing up more recaps of a recap so this is where im done for the day. (by done for the day i mean last nights session, im still doing a liveblog soon. i just wrote this yesterday)

also that this is long

you dont have to read it, theres nothing of importance

ive been coping with humor to get me through it

neato.

have fun with what i suffered through:

why was “beta” the only thing unhighlighted?

like did i miss a page???

OH its the beta version of HS thats why

damn its like 5 pages and thats it

mmh

well youll all be happy to know im clicking every single one of these links again bc i like looking back like ahh i remember that. good times. also in case i forgot some shit existed.

do you think andrew had fun writing this? or was he like “fuck”

thats a lot of fucking package talk. good thing im not confused as of now and remember it pretty clearly. of else, this early on in the recap, id be screwed.

god remember when i did an analysis on each item and what it did

i feel as if i have the technology engrained inside my head right now

cruxite, alchemeter, all that jazz

flashbacks are starting up already

yeah, that was the good part in homestuck where i knew 100% that i probably would continue on this liveblog in its entirety, ngl

that one explosion scene. bc it kept me going.

OH W A IT SHIT

i just realized how the intermission spades probably fucking foreshadowed the whole jack revolts thing and gains the ring, which was also technically JOHNS fault considering he slashed up the doll in the first place

my god, i guess thats the only good aspect of the recap. looking back at things and realizing the missing pieces.

oh that makes sense for the whole “this prototyping had no effect on the enemies, since he was already in the medium” i didnt actually think about that

little did rose know where that would get her right now

oh yeah

there’s still the whole entire lab terminal thing and how mom basically knows the place exists. i guess we’re still venturing onto that and itll come up later when we find out how mom knows SO MUCH about the game.

still think shes some weird spy or secret agent

i kinda love her ngl

anyways, theres literally no reason for skaia to produce a cloning machine. so technically, they only sent the meteors in, right? so who put the cloning machine in if not mom?

oh yeah that impact was nerve wrecking asf

and still at this point in the comic i called dave fuckboy red

huh, how times change

i hated reading that whole paragraph ngl, the frustration just kicked me in the boobs again

yeah nobody else got tornadoes, huh?

OH that makes also much more sense

bc she did prototyped them before she entered the medium.

i gotcha

man one of my favorite edits i made, rose hitting that meteor with a bat

are you

telling me

the exiles structures they arrived on were in the form of the items the kids used to enter the medium?

THE EGG

THAT EXPLAINS “EGG”

of course it was 413 years ago. that was never explained. simply vague “many years in the future....” but i expected no less from this

man serenity is the most wholesome character in hs no doubt

damn thought andy here was really gonna spoil us jade’s planet

okay cool, im glad i now have the layout to the whole “their stations went to the coordinates of the home button” shindig

man i honestly dont know what else to say besides “yeah cool recap” when i already pretty much know what went down? ofc im looking into each link and shit and adding in things when i see fit, but otherwise its just me going “ah good times” yknow

the whole meteor thing kinda makes sense now?

we’re still missing a few pieces of info but we’re getting there, folks

oh yeah that reveal

god jade and dave have it in the shits for parents huh

bro isnt the best and jade has a fucking dog

who lowkey

is doing better than bro

who knew a fucking dog is a better guardian than bro lmfao

dreambot = terminator. im telling you.

sorry im still on that idea and it will never leave unless i have the actual proof in front of me that its not going to become a thing. meaning, ive finished hs and theres still no terminator dreambot or either andrew himself gives me a canon letter with “the robot is not arnold, mackenzie, pls just let it be”

why is the entire game session highlighted

i swear to god if this is like to a second recap or smth of the whole game session i may fucking CRY

okay thank god its just a design of the skaia layout

which is honestly cool

idk why its blurry tho but i can at least see the layout now. which is honestly how i pictured it anyways.

yeah, john did make a huge impact in his friends’ life and i find that so fucking touching

yep. got that. everything loops around. cool.

especially when the trolls come in. god we havent even gotten to that recap portion yet, we havent even gotten to the INTERMISSION

pls can this be the halfway point to the recap

AT LEAST

so they were exiled after the whole jack: ascend thing, right? considering theyre way in the future. man no fucking wonder.

speaking of jack

man that whole dad and jack interaction was gold, ngl

OH THAT EXPLAINS THE RING THEN

and wow, andrew’s really giving us the best female content huh. andrew is the true god of equality and diversity.

also hey, i didnt realize that wow. so PM tricked the queen in showing the parking ticket to be able to take the present from jack. she’s a smart cookie, that one..

she and PM basically snitched on jack and it was the best thing that has happened to me so far

oh yeah okay

but why did AR panic over bec? bc thats something we havent learned yet, right?

anyways

exile town, the only town which should exist. facts. i dont make the rules.

noice

i love PM being queen. like.. thats canon now. shes an actual queen.

yeah that was a fun game and the consorts were cute

fuck yeah the dick head

hate them even more now that i know john was killed because of them

anyways, i wonder what dick move dave’s denizen did? maybe thats why its filled with lava bc the denizen was like “fuck it. make the land red. kill them all”

UH WHAT

WHAT

OH MY GOD HOW DID I JUST FORGET NANNAS LETTER LIKE THAT LMFAO

THEIR TITLES WERE THERE THE WHOLE TIME!

so i still dont know what they mean but i can gather it has something to do with the game giving them abilities. considering dave is the “knight of time” and he can go back in time. whack.

which means john can either control someones breathing or simply wind. and rose is... like that one girl in the winx club who does the sun shit. bc whenever i think of light powers, i think of stella.

and jade is space. witch of space.

nice

i have no idea what that means ngl

okay finally

we’re at the trolls

maybe this recap will end soon

i remember when i thought they were internet bullies

yesss

someone asked if i basically knew the trolls were on a different veil than the kids, so not presently with them, and i know lol. i was making a joke before btw. jsyk. dont think im incompetent to forget these things when sometimes i choose to forget it so i can add in a joke

it be like that, i annoy many

then again, pls dont assume im trying to say im not incompetent bc im also a fucking dumbass and DO forget shit and i have no excuse

imagine being so bored on the meteor, your last resort is speaking to aliens

ngl me if i was ever trapped on a meteor and could potentially do that

nah ik its bc its their only hope at helping with their session or whatever tf CG said to john. but there was BOUND to be a conference meeting between them like “okay guys. humans. that needs to be sorted out” and you just hear CG screaming in the background

i cant wait to meet them honestly bc im growing on all 4 of the ones we’ve seen already. and on top of that, i know what they look like and i know theyre not THAT bad, just a little on the crayy zee side sometimes

but theyre trying

OH MY GOD

I GET IT

FUCK

DOES THAT MEAN THE INTERMISSION IS *APART* OF THE MAIN FUCKING STORY??

AND SPADES IS WV FOR THE TROLLS

GOD D A M N

wow

i didnt expect that. but maybe the signs were there and i was just willingly choosing to ignore it or smth bc “haha couldnt be, right”

flashbacks to how i thought the trolls were humans

anyways, i guess he got his revenge on the kids version of “snowman” ie the black queen. but really

he did not have to do that. he could have cut off the finger and fled. but he decided “nah, lets implode her” so the loml is dead and all i got was a catchy song

i knew they were different types of “bullies” but now i just have to replace bullies with uhh

trolling strategies

anyways, this is cute. i love how they’ve come to be friends through mutual frustration. good part in the comic.

i wonder why it explodes

more importantly

....

terminator time?

this was my favourite sequences of dialogues in the whole entirety of homestuck. that is to say the back and forth thing that the kids went through to become a sort of wingman for the other.

absolutely gold.

all except AT’s rap.

GC was the only smart one with the linear shit

anyways fuck he still has to kill the denizen now but apparently its hard to beat for a sleeping dick head so

that will be fun for the future

john will probably need to kill A LOT of imps to get there

yeah rose is a badass bc she slayed that thing with needles of all things

OH and the white queen was the cursive

damn did AR ever do the whole guide process to a kid yet? maybe he will with dave, idk

oHHH

i fucking SEE

thats why he said DNA

to use it and replace all the life forms in the ocean

fucking neat wow

man that sounded sarcastic but im genuinely impressed bc all i got was bullshit as i read jaspersprites log

so thats the secret. it was “meow” bc that somehow translates to the genetic code she needs then. and that code apparently took fucking years to write as well. sick. whack. oh man.

derse is very pretty, ngl

and wow shit

“dave had already been awake in his tower all along without realizing it” how tf does someone just

do that, awake in both places at once

i didnt even fucking realize that fact as i read that pesterlog wow

ah yes, around the time things got confusing

okay so the capsule makes sense bc at first i didnt know it was a fucking time capsule so i got confused as to how it just apparated the game lmfao

the more you know i guess *twinkle*

i find that a neat concept tho

like the whole whatever you prototype affects the imps and shit

yeah so that whole “he had no advice” basically impacted his future

no shit dave wanted to reset things bc he probably thought he caused some sort of bad butterfly effect and killed his best friend

fuck calsprite thats all im gonna say

i read that first sentence and i think i got an aneurysm

and then everything else just made me sad again

i mean good thing he fucking did amirite?

we got pain at first but now we got cool shit like idk

fucking DAVESPRITE

damn idk how that works

will rose have like two minds now? or will this be some steven universe fusion shit?

“and understood their meaning” course well i fucking didnt so could you pls elaborate, rose?

okay but then what the fuck did he use that was inside the fucking box

bc i thought he used his knife?

im only every going to refer him as that now, thank you andrew

alright okay..

god that was a lot

i dont know what will happen once i click on those links but i am going to see that for myself bc i refuse to add ANYTHING ELSE

82 notes · View notes