#I already love my boy Lincoln as I knew I would | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

its-short-for-jackalope · 5 months ago

Text

THE SEARCHER IN THE SHADOWS

☆ Thoughts On Part 2 ☆

Time for the unhinged companion to my part 1 post, lol. I love how much these musicals surprise me, I always have such a fun time and oh boy do I have thoughts and feelings about part 2.

Once again I am not going to be able to capture every thought I have about everything because there is... so much. But I can try to express a portion of it, so on with the rambling!

Meanwhile / Sia's Vision

I love part 1 & the new characters we met, but I was definitely missing the rest of the quartet so I was so excited to get to hear them again today. That being said, I was totally unprepared for how I would react to their arrival (heh). I was damn near kicking my feet and I was close to either giggling or crying basically the entire time, but I guess they balanced each other out so I basically just vibrated in my chair instead, lmao.

I'm so happy that Margaret has been to Lincoln Island before? I was a little worried that she didn't even have a chance to see that any of her people had survived before she was sent away and she lost her memories. (However the hell that happened.)

I love how John and Samuel are both like "I can accept this mysterious magical woman saving our lives once, but TWICE? That is a little suspicious. 🤨😑"

SIA'S VISION. It happened years ago, and now we know we're not alone that Sia went straight from 1835 to 1874 just like the quartet, so she must have gotten the vision sometime between 1829 and 1835, proooobably a lot closer to 1829, since she said 'years.' She sees the Antikythera being claimed by the Ellen Austin, and evidence of Margaret's transformation magic as well as her radiance. She also saw John (the scientist) screaming for Rose as she drowns while the Antikythera takes on water, perhaps sinking entirely.

SIA'S PLAN. (MAYBE.) Okay so I very well could be wrong, lol, I'll get that out of the way right now, but I think Margaret had already been sent away when Sia had her vision. Part of this reasoning is simply because it would feel more satisfying to me if the quartet didn't come together entirely because it was forseen, and also because Sia says 'our Margaret returned.' Idk, just the delivery of that makes me feel like she must already be gone at that point. Sia wouldn't have left Margaret somewhere unsafe, so she probably looked around New York to scout it out, and/or maybe she was watching from time to time, to make sure she was okay. So maybe she saw the Stratfords at some point—Samuel says he read about Margaret in The Sun, so maybe she was interviewed in the building and they occupied the same corner of the city at just the right time for Margaret's guardian traveler to see the twins?—and then when Sia has that vision, she recognizes them and that's when she knows they have to keep these people safe. (And maybe she uses a bit of magic to send a certain scientist a certain paper about certain discoveries to ensure he joins the party...?) So in the years before the quartet gathers together, Sia makes plans with her friends. I don't know exactly what these plans are and won't really try to guess, but clearly part of it involved scheming with Addison to make me SO WORRIED about her and the crew leave her ship (and an orrery for Rose) drifting on the Sargasso at the right time and place, AND they must have had enough foresight to be prepared for Sia's 39 years away; we didn't hear her poof back to let her friends know when she was going, and they knew when to expect her return, so it must have been pre-arranged to some extent. So Sia skips ahead, dropping off the quartet in 1874 and returning to Lincoln Island where Rose has already been learning and testing for 9 days, until it's time to meet Margaret again on the Antikythera. And now we're caught up. (Was this whole ramble necessary? Eh, maybe not, but I needed to think about it and it took long enough to type that I'm not deleting all that, are you kidding?)

Arrival, part 2

aw, yay! I'm glad Margaret and the boys all got a similar welcome to Rose! I wasn't sure if there would be any fanfare for Samuel and John, lol.

The twins are reunited! 😭❤ (And Margaret and John get to say hi to Rose too, yes, yes, I was very happy, but this isn't about them right now. TWINS.)

Dakkar and his scanner, lmao. (Going to try and fail to not think about him taking out his trusty tech as a distraction when he witnesses the siblings' reunion. I'm totally fine and normal about this, guys. Trust me.)

Yes, filling everybody in about Kal! I suppose he was the specific threat they were worried about when they were trying to verify Rose's identity in part 1, which would probably make sense if he's Itzal's attack virologist or something. But I have concerns about how the scan went. Addison tells us Kal has a way of tracking people he encounters and the scanner they use to check has a database that doesn't recognize anything on Samuel and the others, but, uh. AFAIK that scanner has been here on Lincoln Island for 45 years, nice and protected. How many updates have they gotten? And what was that Kal said back in TGOA? "Non-lethal fog, my latest brew." ...YEAH. I HAVE CONCERNS.

Not Rose's somber "We must keep looking for the key" after the chorus 😭😭😭 We know Sia's been reassuring her and Ahlaam has been insistent that there's no pressure on her, but uh. There is pressure. And Rose probably feels some degree of guilt for not accomplishing everything these literally magical people hoped she would after they saved her life.

Margaret almost recognizing the people around her, Dakkar echoing/answering the calls we've heard from Margaret since the beginning of the story..... AUGHHHHH 😭

I am very interested in Samuel and Addison's dynamic (to put it lightly) and I want to know what the captain is so curious about bears for.

Magic Ways

I love this song so much. We get to receive lore in an easily digestible way AND the music is amazing???? Move over, Schoolhouse Rock, I only want to learn things from the Travelers and Searchers from now on. (This joke isn't even good but I've wanted to make one about Schoolhouse Rock since the premiere so this is what we get. sorry, lmao.)

SEVEN, SEVEN MAGIC WAYS! Radiance, Perception, Protection, Illusion, Healing, Movement, and Transformation. If I'm understanding correctly, everyone from the Blazing World has the Radiance. (And I assume every descendant born on Lincoln Island does, too? although if they didn't have any magic because they lost their connection to their world that could be interesting... 👀) It seems to be the root/core of it all, if it's the one everyone shares. All the magic connects them, but I think the Radiance is the deepest and strongest connection. I am not going to rattle off about all of the magic ways here because, well, reading my ramblings (delightful as they are) doesn't hold a candle to listening to the actual song, lmao, but I am going to share my ideas for what kinds of magic the different BW characters might have.

SIA — radiance, movement, perception, transformation, possibly more; if she was helping Margaret train her protection magic, then I think it could be reasonable to suspect Sia may also possess it? But that's a maybe for now—Sia could simply know both Margaret & how protection magic functions well enough to be able to coach her.

AHLAAM — radiance, movement, illusion (I believe she was going to cast an illusion spell on Rose during Two Weeks as one of the tests, and she also tells us about illusion magic in the song), possibly more; Ahlaam doesn't specifically say that she only had three magic ways, unlike...

DAKKAR — radiance, healing, protection. He says that "three is more than enough for me" so I think we can safely assume that's it for him, unless he has more magic that he just doesn't use for whatever reason, which could be an interesting idea. No evidence for it tho, I'm just saying words. <3

ADDISON — from what we know so far, she might have only one magic way, the radiance, but I keep thinking about her journal. Margaret had to use transformation magic on it to be able to read it, so does that mean Addison also has that power, or did somebody else (Sia?) transform the journal specifically so Margaret would have to transform it back and use her magic? Or, as some friends have joked, is Addison nerdy enough that she just writes in invisible ink?

MARGARET — in TGMH, we saw her use the radiance for the first time. in TBS, movement. TGOA, transformation. in this episode, she has started using protection magic. Matt has told us that there will be 7 pulps and there are 7 magic ways, so I'm wondering if we'll see her unlock or regain all the magic ways, with one new power returning in each episode. We still have one more part to go for this episode, so we'll see if this theory is disproven real quick or not, lol.

Thank Gravity

hi, what if I exploded?

the only m/f pairings I care about are written by Matt Dahan and this is only a slight exaggeration

JOHN WANTED TO TALK!! HE'S THE ONE WHO INITIATED A FEELINGS CONVERSATION!!! HE FINALLY GOT SOME SENSE!!! I'M SO FUCKIN PROUD???? 🎉

THEY! KISSED!

what if I just, like, perished. would y'all be cool with that.

I am so not normal about how we've gone from them both yearning for 'a place with no laws of gravity' to them both thanking gravity—

have we considered the option of me just walking into the ocean? I think that might be the best course of action here.

oh my god. I love them.

Masterpiece Containing Masterpieces

Jackie's absolutely gorgeous art shows a bit of bright blue sky visible from the bridge of the Nautilus, so I'm guessing everyone got some much needed rest and continued the tours the next day, lol.

godddddd the callback to Margaret's Apartment. Maps of the Earth and sky lavishly hanging from golden frames—I need to bite something. (/pos)

John, if you're asking questions you should at least give people time to finish answering them, lmao

Someone is going to push one of those damn purple buttons and everyone is going to have a bad day, calling it now. If it doesn't happen this episode, it will happen in one of the later ones. And I am going to be glaring at them all mistrustfully until it finally happens. 😑👉🚫🟣‼️

Samuel and his imagination going crazy over the orrery's potential... and the way Addison talked about the Firestone getting burnt out, I wonder if that means it isn't repairable. Maybe Firestones are extremely rare, idk. curious how this orrery is still able to help them with the Gate somehow. WOULD LOVE TO HEAR MORE ABOUT THESE GATES, BY THE WAY. JUST SAYING. /lh

EDIT: oops, the orrery on the Nautilus is not the same as the Antiythera's, I don't think. but it still seems like this one can't go back in time, going by the conversation!

Before the Island

yessssssss new solo John song for me to lose my mind about. also a casual reminder that Curt Mega is so gender it's unfair. <3

John, I love this for you. so much. go crazy, run wild, be silly and push buttons—NOT THE PURPLE ONES, FFS 🙏—and be happy with Rose.

John thinking his dad would understand what he's feeling instead of feeling smothered by his father's legacy and afraid of disappointing him......... 🥺😭❤

Ipomoea, part 1

the cover art!!!!!

This song is so goddamn pretty. Natalie and Kim's voices are heavenly together.

the imagery Margaret describes is so gorgeous, I want to draw it.

Margaret is closer than she's ever been to getting her answers!!!

JUST LIKE HOME 😭😭😭😭😭😭

and here we learn another time travel rule, which simultaneously makes me go "oh cool, that will probably make the timeline a little less messy" and "oh poor Sia, you lost 39 years with your besties" and "HEY SIA SO YOU BASICALLY LIED ABOUT BEING ABLE TO HELP ANNA GET OFF THE SATELLITE, HUH? CARE TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF??" (This isn't really even about Travelovers, this is about Anna being LEFT UP THERE and someone needs to give Sia a talking to for this, on mine and Anna's behalf. 😭 John, you've smooched your girl, now go be mad for your bestie, plz.)

hi Dakkar, ilu, please never die

Ipomoea, part 2

JESSE BHAMRAH I ADORE YOUR VOICE

I was a tiny bit worried about where this was going. I expected him to start using magic against Margaret to force her to defend herself, so the way he's like 'yo we should totally have Sia try to attack/kill us both' instead so they could combine their protection power was a really cool and delightful twist

I also love how Sia absolutely knows where this is going

IPOMOEA, SHOW ME YOUR WORTH! STAND WITH ME NOW, OR GET PLUCKED FROM THE EARTH!!!!!!!

Dakkar and Margaret are both so committed to this, & the way they sing together!!!!!!!

THIS SONG, YOU GUYS, I CAN'T. 😭❤

THEY'RE SIBLINGS! I don't currently have the brainpower (or time, tbh) to truly & accurately express how I feel about the reveal. Feel free to read my very smart friend's cool post about Dakkar and Margaret instead, it's very good.

I know I had a little "et cetera" sort of section at the end of my last post with some other thoughts, but honestly I am tapped right now, lol. Matt Dahan packs so much cool stuff in these episodes that there is undoubtedly a bunch of really cool theories and connections I haven't even touched upon in this post, but that's okay, it's long enough as it is. 😂

basically,

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I love pulp so much and I am VERY AFRAID and VERY EXCITED for part 3.

Now if you'll excuse me I need to rewatch part 2 until Mr. Dahan himself pries the video out of my greedy little hands.

#jack jabbers #pulp musicals #the searcher in the shadows #tsits #pulp musicals 4 #pulp 4 spoilers #tsits spoilers #the searcher in the shadows spoilers #pulp musicals theory #pulp musicals theories

20 notes · View notes

fake-russian-chick · 4 months ago

Text

Guys… You know what I’m here for, right? Yeah, to talk about my current hyper fixation, Prison Break.

As always, spoilers for season 4 under the cut

I’m in the S04E23, and I have a hell of a lot to talk about it.

Firstly, Christina Scofield, I hate you like I never hated another character in my life, I hate you more than I hate Esther Mikaelson, and I never thought that would be possible. How can you think so low of Lincoln?!? Like, I get that you don’t feel maternal love for him, but why do you hate him so much?!? The guy used to go everyday to see you in the hospital, you ungrateful bitch.

Also, loved how Michael was totally ready to first drown and then shoot his own mother for Lincoln and the crew, but I kinda wished he had actually killed someone, maybe Christina herself, but I think that the General would be the perfect choice.

Secondly, WHEN IS MY BABYGIRL SARA GOING TO HAVE MORE THAN AN HOUR OF PEACE AND HAPINNESS?!? Just let her be happy, this woman already suffered so much.

Now, let’s talk about Mahone. Like, I love Mahone so freaking much, he’s my second favorite character, right after T-Bag, but we’ll get on that subject later on. Anyways, Mahone was perfect almost the entire season, but he fucked up now betraying Michael to have his job back, but considering that in the 4 years time-skip he was there with everyone, I imagine he redeemed himself, so I’m gonna wait and see.

Another thing, why in seven hells didn’t they showed us when Michael and Sara finally had sex?!? Me and my sis were waiting for that moment, and they just don’t show us?!? I’m outraged.

Ohh, and C-Note’s and Kellerman’s returns? I FUCKING SCREAMED in my living room. Loved it, and loved to have them back, together with my favorite boy Sucre

And lastly, for the moment everyone knew was coming, let’s discuss my dear T-Bag.

So, after like ten episodes of Teddy being the nice guy, he suddenly remembered that he’s a psycho and went three whole seasons back to how he was in Fox River, even doing the pocket thing? Like, I really don’t get. The writers took three seasons trying to redeem an irredeemable character, by stopping showing scenes of him trying to assault a child, and never again talking about the whole pet thing he used to do in prison, only to now throw all that in the trash by making him be that disgusting with Sara. And, of course, I have to mention what Sara said about T-Bag’s apparent neurologic ED, because I have a lot of questions. He can’t get it up if not by causing pain in someone? He can’t get it up at all? But then, he never had sex with Susan Hollander? And what about the mail woman? She seemed rather satisfied after having sex with him. And, I got a few spoilers, and don’t T-Bag has a son, or something like that? How can he have a son if he can’t get it up? Maybe he can do it, but it’s just hard, or doesn’t last long? So how was that woman so satisfied? Did he learned a few other tricks? Like I said, a lot of questions, and no answers.

I see now that I already wrote way too much, so here I say my goodbyes for now. Tomorrow when I finish the season and watch the movie, I obviously will have a lot to say.

Good night everyone, and kisses from Brazil

#prison break #t-bag #theodore bagwell #sara tancredi #alexander mahone #damn I definitely exaggerated #Lincoln Burrows #Michael Scofield #fernando sucre #c-note #benjamin franklin #paul kellerman

14 notes · View notes

wifeofsnowbaird · 1 year ago

Text

You put a spell on me

[A/N: I was too lazy to wait for the end of the poll. also i haven't watched the show and wikipedia is kinda holding me up so don't get mad at me for messing smth up, i'll go on the fan wiki tho, they always have everything.]

[EDIT: guys I forgot about the civil war 💀💀💀 I finally fixed it tho so yay]

Part 1/Part 2

Masterlist

[Billy the Kid (Tom Blyth's version) x desi!oc]

Warning: description of blood, slight violence, flogging, racism, flogging, slaves, smut in maybe part 6?

Summary: Sheila was a slave taken by a British couple at the age of 12 for her singing. She was brought to America even though they had the 13th Amendment where slavery was abolished. She saw a friend of hers, who was brought with her, getting flogged and that was her last straw, proceeding to run away. Until she sees the most notorious outlaw in the South, then she settles to free her friends from the British couple that came to America for money.

It was July.25, 1878, Lincoln County, New Mexico. Sheila woke up to nothing but harsh screams coming from one of her friends as she was beaten and whipped. She felt worried because the girl was new…Unlike Sheila who had been with the owner since she was twelve, merely because his wife liked her singing when they had come to visit British India.

Her friend, Catherine, was a sad sixteen-year-old, mourning the death of her parents. They had threatened the owners of telling law enforcement what was happening but they knew that they wouldn't do anything about it.

The other slaves ran to her screams but were faced with fear and did nothing besides revel in their powerlessness. Sheila sat there, her damp brown skin and greasy raven hair clinging to her shell of a body. She knew how this would end, knew that they would be feeble against the man–Edward J. Mason– but she was ready to clean Catherine’s wounds and reassure her that she would be alright.

“Oh, look at my slave, Sheila, so obedient! You never have to hurt her, Edward!”

The sadistic gray-haired man chuckled, kissing his wife.

“ And aren’t I glad, Penelope! We chose her when she was twelve, it has been seven years since, of course, she’d love us, this is why I love Indians! They always gift us with beauty and trust.”

They both glanced at the gaunt, starved girl before chuckling. The Mistress patted Sheila’s head and reached for a rake beside her, beckoning to the other slaves.

Penelope Mason was a woman no different from her husband. Many wives were afraid of their spouses but Penelope was a wife who had nothing but pride in her bones. The rake in Penelope’s hand was covered in blood, meant to whip the slaves that threatened their control and most times Sheila could willing block out the screeches and screams, but now she just felt angry, ready to beat the couple with no morals.

But she was stuck being useless to defend them.

Fear is a burden that was attached to her like a drug, and only withdrawal held her back from screaming her heart out.

Until she found a boy with the brightest blue eyes.

From what she’d heard, he was an outlaw.

Billy the Kid was infamous because he was the man who killed a sheriff months ago, and chased out of the state. It was a mystery how he gained the courage to return to New Mexico.

“ Who’re you?” The man questioned, his vibrant cobalt eyes gazing at her with hostility.

Sheila didn’t want to think more about the dominant color in his entire posture and frame. His clothes were darker than sin and brighter than the sun, but his eyes were the only thing she could pay attention to, causing her to ignore their proximity.

“ I am a slave, belonging to the Mason family.”

He tilted his head, shocked eyes analyzing their surroundings.

“ I didn’ ask what you were forced to be, I asked who you are.”

“ My name is Sheila, is that what you want?”

“ Huh, I’m Billy, but considerin’ the poster you were starin’ at a min’ ago, you already know that. But...how did you...No, how dare they have slaves!”

The dividers were made by @wandanatromanova

#billy the kid #tom blyth imagine #william h bonney #billy the kid imagine #tom blyth #billy the kid smut #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x fem!oc #billy the kid x oc

28 notes · View notes

jojo0039 · 2 months ago

Text

Fox River - Tweener Part 1

Jessica has been on constant alert for LJ.

She has been worried sick about him.

She makes her way into the prison.

She had gotten a call from the warden about Lincoln.

She rushes in showing her badge.

She makes it to his office and she hears Lincoln's angry voice.

She slowly slides inside so she doesn't attract attention.

Pope turns around and sees her.

"Ah, good, Ms. Donovan, you're here." he says, causing everyone to turn around and spot her.

She can feel Lincoln's eyes burning into her.

"You needed to see me warden." Jessica speaks, walking around everyone to stand beside Linc.

"Yes. I need you to talk some sense into Lincoln here. I understand that LJ is missing. There isn't anything that we can do about it." the warden continues speaking, looking between Jessica and Lincoln.

Jessica has a look of confusion on her face.

"I can!" Lincoln shouts angrily.

"Just let me find him. I know how he thinks, please, he's my son!" Lincoln shouts, practically begging.

"You can't because you are a death row inmate. There is no way I can let you out of these gates, but Ms Donovan here can." Pope states, nodding his head toward Jessica.

"What?" Jessica questions, confused as to why she is even here.

"I know your history with each other. I know how much you care about the boy, Jessica. I can't allow Lincoln outside to find him, but maybe he can have some piece of mind if he knew someone who he really trusted was on the search for him." Warden explains to them.

Jessica narrows her eyes.

"So you want me to find LJ?" Jessica asks to clarify.

"I probably figure you already have a search going for him as we speak. I just want Lincoln here not to freak out with worry that there will be someone searching for him."

Jessica sighs and glances toward Lincoln.

He looks calmer and is looking right back at her.

"Would you quit worrying so much if we had Jessica search for him ourselves?" the warden questions Lincoln.

He breaks his glance with Jessica and looks back at Pope.

He nods slightly.

"Yes." Lincoln states.

"Good. I will grant her access for three visits a day until LJ is found." Pope grants before dismissing them.

**************************

Jessica drives up to the cabin.

She has to be away from the city.

After contacting her captain and saying she isn't going to be in the office today, she gets in her car and starts driving.

"Hello!" she shouts as she walks into the cabin.

Veronica rushes out of the back room to meet her.

"Hey." she greets, giving her big sister a hug.

"I brought food!" Jessica exclaims excitedly, placing the bags down on the kitchen counter.

"So I found something interesting this morning." Veronica states to her amusingly.

"Oh, you found the guns?" Jessica asks with a smirk.

Veronica nods with a scoff.

"Yes. I practically scared Nick this morning." Veronica jokes with a laugh.

"Where is Nick?" Jessica asks, looking around.

She catches Veronica's little blush.

"He's getting dressed."

She quickly changes the subject.

"Look, when can I get back? Lincoln has two weeks left. I should be doing something." she asks Jess.

Nick comes out of the back room all dressed.

"Hey Jessica I didn't know you were here. You weren't followed were you?" he questions looking out the front window.

"No, I wasn't. I know how to lose a tail." she snips at Nick.

"And to answer your question, I don't think it's smart to be going anywhere right now. They may still be looking for you." Jessica says, grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge.

"But Jess, he only has two weeks!" Veronica exclaims.

Jessica slams her water bottle down.

"You don't think I don't know that?! You don't think I care that the man that I love is going to die? I do care! But I'm also thinking about your safety. I can't have you running around trying to uncover secrets and get killed! I know you want to do something but please stop." Jessica half shouts, half cries at her.

Veronica just stares at her with wide eyes.

Nick slowly walks over.

"Look I think I might know a way to find something out and not go searching," he says to them.

They both turn to look at him.

"What are you thinking?" Veronica asks, wanting to know his idea.

"We go after his wife. I'm sure she has to know something." he says to them.

Jessica nods.

" OK, it may be worth checking out." she nods, giving her approval.

***LINCOLN'S POV*** Lincoln is pacing back and forth in his cell.

He is growing more and more nervous.

He has yet to hear any news from Jessica, and it worries him.

Even though he misses the sound of her voice he is worried for LJ.

The slot in the door opens up as dinner is brought to him.

"Whose out there?" he asks the guard.

"It's Lewis, Linc." he answers, sliding Lincoln's dinner through.

"Lewis, you have to help me, please. I just need to talk to him, please." Lincoln begs.

"Linc take your food before I shove it in there and you have to eat it off the ground." Lewis states angrily.

Lincoln grabs his arm to keep him there.

"Don't do anything stupid." he warns Linc.

"I'm not... I just...You have a son, right?" Lincoln asks.

"What if it were Josh?" he asks before letting go of Lewis's wrist.

He slumps back against the wall in defeat.

He hears Lewis sigh before he answers.

"You have five minutes." he gives in, opening up the door.

He hears ringing and hopes that LJ will pick up.

"Hello?" LJ answers panicking.

Lincoln sighs in relief.

"LJ are you OK?" he questions his son.

LJ starts crying over the phone.

"Not really no. Dad they killed her. They killed her right in front of me!" he cries to Lincoln.

"LJ listen..listen.." he gets cut off.

"Why are they doing this?" L.J. sounds so lost and confused.

"Listen to me alright. I need you to be the man now you understand me?" he assures him.

"Yeah, I understand." he says to him.

"OK, listen to me, alright. I need you to call Jessica, alright? She'll keep you safe." he says reassuringly to LJ.

"I tried she's not at the station and I can't reach her on her cell." he says to his dad.

"Keep trying OK? She's out looking for you right now. She's going to keep you safe." he says to reassure him.

"OK dad I will."

"You're going to be OK. Everything will be OK." Lincoln keeps relaying to try to keep LJ calm.

"Dad! They're here! They're here!" LJ shouts before the line disconnects.

"LJ! LJ!" he screams into the phone.

He becomes a complete wreck.

Whoever is after his son is trying to get him now.

***END POV***

Jessica, Nick, and Veronica all make it around the tables of a rooftop restaurant where Mrs. Steadman is eating lunch.

Jessica and Veronica watch as Nick discretely grabs a cell phone off the table they are standing by.

"I saw that. My sister could arrest you." Veronica jokes teasingly to Nick.

Nick looks at her with amusement.

"I'm just staying connected." he replies before looking over and seeing her.

"There she is over there."

He nods his head in the direction of Mrs. Steadman's table.

Jessica's phone starts beeping and ringing repeatedly.

"Oh wow, the one time it works over here." she looks up to them.

"Go ahead and go talk to her I'm going to take this." she states, grabbing her phone and walking off to answer.

"Hello?" she answers walking down the hallway.

"Jessica?" she hears LJ's voice over the phone.

"LJ? Where are you?" she whispers to him, walking toward a more secluded spot.

"I..I don't know but you have to come get me please."

She hears him, and it breaks her heart to hear him so scared.

"OK...LJ, I'm going to need you to come to me, OK?" she replies, about to tell him where she's at.

"Oh, God!"

She hears him exclaim, scared.

"How do they keep finding me? They're right there!" she hears him say.

She thinks of a new plan.

"OK, I need you to listen to me, LJ. I'm not in town. I'm with Veronica and Nick I have them safe at Lake Mercer. I need you to buy a bus ticket and meet me there, alright?" she says to him, rushing down the stairs and outside to her car.

"Lake Mercer?" he asks to confirm.

"Yes, LJ Lake Mercer. Listen OK....I need you to keep your phone on...Do you understand me? Keep your phone on." she states to him.

"OK, Jess I'll keep my phone on....Jess, I'm so scared. I don't know why this is happening." she hears him break down over the phone.

"It's OK, honey. I'll keep you safe, I promise." she tells him before hanging up.

She wipes the tears away as Nick and Veronica come back to the car.

"What's wrong?" Veronica asks, looking at her sister.

"That was LJ he's in trouble." she answers before taking her phone and sending a text.

'New Glarus Our old family vacation cabin. Dump the phone they're tracking you'

She sends the text to LJ.

She looks back toward Veronica and Nick.

"So what did Mrs. Steadman have to say?" she asks as they take off back toward the cabin.

#prison break fanfiction #jessica donovan #lincoln burrows fanfiction #michael scofield #fox river #book 1

1 note · View note

ilikeyapples · 8 months ago

Text

Surprised honey with matching dodger hats. He loved the black on black.

Him: How’d you know I like black? 😅

Me: Lucky guess. 😉😘 Are you ready for the rest of your birthday gifts?

Him: There’s more? Nooo, you didn’t. The hat is more than enough.

Me: It’s your birthday! Close your eyes and hold out your hands! **plops a stack of books 📚**

Him: Omg. You got the books?

Me: I had to! I saw how much you wanted them the last time we were at the bookstore. I knew you really wanted the Charles Darwin book so I made sure that was the first thing I grabbed. I also got you the Federalists Papers and the U.S Constitution. 😂 Nerd. Okay, one more gift!

Him: There’s more?!

Me: Last one. You’re either going to laugh or hate it.

Him: What is it?!

Me: I got you Benny Boy!!! 😂

Him: You got me a Benjamin Franklin Funko?!

Me: Mhmmmm! 😂 I was on the hunt for Abraham Lincoln but I guess he was highly sought after. I was laughing so hard the other night when you said you aspire to be like Ben. Homeboy is a player with seven mistresses. I had already bought him earlier that day and he was sitting on my desk. I wanted to show you so bad but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 😂😂😂

Him: I love it. I love all of it. Thank you. I love you so much. Who knew my girlfriend would know me so well. I have exquisite taste. An amazing girlfriend who knows I’m hella weird. Who even collects politician funko pops?

Me: My annoying ass boyfriend. I love youuu. 🥰

0 notes

casspurrjoybell-22 · 1 year ago

Text

Master - Chapter 57 - Part 2

*Warning: Adult Content*

- Lincoln -

I was no stranger to pain but even I could admit this searing agony was entirely new shit to me.

If I could speak my curses aloud, I would but my mind seemed to be waking before the rest of me, only receiving the pain signals and nothing else.

Typical.

While my body slowly follows suit, I try to recall the series of events that led me here, suffering a torment in my heart whilst lying on something that smelt disturbingly new.

I remembered the battle well, with Diablos being his usually over-chatty self.

Kalem's arrival with what was apparently his demon brother, a blissful period without any mention or glimpse of the showerhead and then finally, a spear through my heart by an overzealous cult member.

I breathe a sigh when my body allows it and then spear no compassion in mentally berating myself.

I'd assumed that I would be hurt badly from the warning Malcolm had so desperately tried to give me before the fighting had begun but if I'd listened, I could've perhaps stopped it and avoided causing such agony to my love.

Because I could see that clearly, more clearly than anything else in my memories, that haunting look of pure terror being etched into Kalem's sweet face and then the darkness that had consumed him afterwards.

My poor boy, he'd suffered far too much.

Kalem... Where was Kalem?

Forcing my eyes open despite their will to remain frozen shut, I blink several times to take in the unfamiliar space.

The overbearing sunlight pressed right through the only opening available in the large space that seemed to be a cave?

If I wasn't hallucinating the high, curved ceilings that grew narrower the further it went.

I didn't think I was hallucinating but when I looked down and saw a mattress beneath me, I wasn't too sure because the last time I'd been conscious, caves didn't usually keep a stockpile of large mattresses with enough sheets to wrap a mummy.

Sitting up, I peer through the cave's entrance, spotting what seemed to be a never-ending field of sunflowers and surprisingly, that was the only thing that made me feel sane.

If there were sunflowers, then there would be Kalem too.

However, if this was a dream, then it was nice to know that my psyche was decidedly warped.

As strength begins to pump itself back into my body, I make a mental inventory of all the working parts.

Besides the ache in my chest, everything else seemed to be in the right order, far stronger in fact, which suggested I'd gotten a large feeding of blood while I was out.

A glance down at my chest reveals a tightly bound collection of bandages that were fresh and clean from the looks of things.

I couldn't remember ever having to be bandaged up and while the thought should have been alarming, it was oddly comforting to me.

I didn't think there was anyone else in the world who would think to bandage up a vampire besides Kalem.

The wound felt to be already healed, I could feel by the tightness of new skin there, sealing itself away with the shreds of my heart, so there was no real purpose to keeping the bandages but I didn't dare remove them.

Tugging the millions of blankets free, I slide off the mattress' edge and make my way out of the cave with a hand tracing the cool walls.

My joints pop with each step, cracking like they hadn't been used in decades and I thank God, Malcolm and Wenquie weren't here to hear it, God knew they'd never let me live it down.

A flash of memory crosses my mind, one where a giant demon was flying the pair away with the demand that everyone run from us, from Kalem.

The question of what happened after circles my mind but quiets when I meet the cave's entrance.

Squinting past the annoying sun that blared across the open lands, I try to find something other than the yellow sunflowers that was so prominent I almost felt sick just seeing it but there's no sign of anything familiar.

There was nothing by flat lands as if I'd been deposited in the middle of nowhere.

I don't know what I expected to find but Kalem's own personal heaven and my personal hell was not it.

I give a mental tug on the Lyrra, searching for any of the clan that could be near, only to find that they seemed miles away.

We couldn't possibly be anywhere near the castle then or where the war had been, so where on Earth were we?

The heavy footfalls of someone approaching derail my thoughts, rousing worry until I catch the scent of honey on the passing winds.

It turns my bones and muscles to jelly, threatening to put me down again as I step out so I can confirm that it is, in fact, my love.

Walking towards me with his head cast down, Kalem quietly ran his fingers over the bouquet of black orchids he carried in his hands.

The sight of him makes my soul brighten.

Under the sun, he truly looked like an angel with his large wings shimmering behind him, though they were crestfallen at his back, appearing like a sad, golden curtain at his back.

It was still staggering to see him like this, a near giant instead of the small boy who'd become a part of me but it did not dare make my love for him waver.

Raising his head absentmindedly, Kalem's eyes swipe over me only for him to immediately still, his entire body going rigid while the bottom edges of his wings flutter hopefully.

The orchids fall as his fingers slacken like his jaw, gliding down to fill the flower beds like spots of black amongst all the yellow.

"Lincoln?" Kalem whispers shakily before he rubs his eyes hard.

My entire body aches as I catch the pure disbelief and hesitance in his eyes as if he were afraid to hope.

1 note · View note

fredborges98 · 1 year ago

Text

Nat king cole, Nature Boy

youtube

There was a boy.

A very strange, enchanted boy.

They say he wandered very far,

Very far,

Over land and sea.

A little shy,

And sad of eye,

But very wise was he.

And then one day,

One magic day he passed my way.

And while we spoke of many things,

Fools and kings,

This he said to me:

The greatest thing

You'll ever learn

Is just to love

And be loved

In return.

"How to stop time: kiss.

How to travel in time: read.

How to escape time: music.

How to feel time: write.

How to release time: breathe."

Matt Haig, Reasons to Stay Alive.

From:Fred Borges

The Present Final Ironical Solution Policy.

Peace please!

"Doug, you think killing is hard, huh? You wait in the bushes, the animal might outrun you or charge you. It's not easy to get your shot, hm?

Try healing something.

That is hard.

That requires patience.

You can break something in two seconds.

But it can take forever to fix it.

A lifetime, generations.

That's why we have to be careful on this earth and gentle!"

Salma Hayek - Beatriz at Dinner (2017)

Human Nature & There was a boy poem and song.

There was a Boy.

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs

And islands of Winander! many a time,

At evening, when the earliest stars began

To move along the edges of the hills,

Rising or setting, would he stand alone,

Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake;

And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands

Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth

Uplifted, he, as through an instrument,

Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls

That they might answer him.—And they would shout

Across the watery vale, and shout again,

Responsive to his call,—with quivering peals,

And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud

Redoubled and redoubled; concourse wild

Of jocund din! And, when there came a pause

Of silence such as baffled his best skill:

Then, sometimes, in that silence, while he hung

Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise

Has carried far into his heart the voice

Of mountain-torrents; or the visible scene

Would enter unawares into his mind

With all its solemn imagery, its rocks,

Its woods, and that uncertain heaven received

Into the bosom of the steady lake.

This boy was taken from his mates, and died

In childhood, ere he was full twelve years old.

Pre-eminent in beauty is the vale

Where he was born and bred: the churchyard hangs

Upon a slope above the village-school;

And through that churchyard when my way has led

On summer-evenings, I believe that there

A long half-hour together I have stood

Mute—looking at the grave in which he lies!

Nature boy's concept:

Nature Boy- just a old school way of saying someone is a natural at things: women, wrestling, all the things that make a man great.

Nature boy's history:

The song Nature Boy was written in 1947 by eden ahbez and is partly autobiographical, basing it on his association with the groups who had adopted Naturmensch and Lebensreform philosophies. The story goes that in 1947 Ahbez attended a concert that Nat Cole was performing at the Lincoln Theater.

The song “Nature Boy” was a number one hit for Nat King Cole in 1948, selling 1 million copies that year. Since then, the song has been performed and recorded by hundreds of artists from jazz and other genres, including Frank Sinatra, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughan, James Brown, David Bowie, and more.

Ahbez declaration:

All the money in the world will not change my way of life. Because all the money in the world could not give me the things I already have. Anna and I have learned that nature and a simple life will bring you peace and happiness. We sleep on the ground in sleeping bags in the California mountains and deserts.”

Anna was Ahbez’s wife. They married in 1946, and their son, Zoma, was born in October 1948, a few months after “Nature Boy” became a big hit. In the 1950s, they camped in Big Tujunga Canyon and other areas, and sometimes lived in ashrams in the Glendale area. They lived almost exclusively outdoors.

What and by all means represents, all these historic personalities?

Love and Nature!

Inspired by Naturmensch and Lebensreform whish main principles are:

Unsophisticated type of person, natural person.

And Lebensreform:

German generic term for various social reform movements, that started since the mid-19th century and originated especially in the German Empire and later in Switzerland.

Common features were the criticism of industrialisation, materialism and urbanization combined with striving for the state of nature. The painter and social reformer Karl Wilhelm Diefenbach is considered to be an important pioneer of the Lebensreform ideas.

What most we need now is love and the hermeneutic methodology that guides us to respond why do we exist, and based on this How do we exist?

Salma Hayek was light and right on saying: Healing is the most outrageous and challenging grey and heart matter's on earth, as destroying it is really the easiest solution or The Present Final Ironical Solution Policy.

So lets love, and care for and care about Human Nature or Boy Nature!

#Youtube

1 note · View note

thinkoutsidethefox · 2 years ago

Text

In the end of 2021, we lost one of our old man kitty-- YinYang. He had been with me for almost 13 years and he was my everything. I was broken when he died. After 2 months of mourning, it was clear to see I wasn't the only one mourning YinYang's death. But his brother Mozart was also missing him greatly. He would wander around and cry for him and he would mope around the house. So I made a very hard and self-less decision: I had to get Mozart a buddy. As sad as I was, I was nowhere near ready for another cat, but seeing Mo as broken as me and knowing I could maybe make things better for him... I had to get another cat. So I started my search for a kitty friend for Mo. It was very difficult. And let me just add: As someone who worked in animal shelters before, I've never seen any shelter as empty as the ones I walked into during this search. We went to about 4 shelters and no cats or dogs. It was rather odd for me. So we found the one. A fluffy little orange boy that looked like a spitting image of Mozart just a lot smaller because of his age. We loved him. He was so sweet when we visited with him. Put in an application and got a call back almost immediately that evening. I was away at a party for a friend leaving and I didn't hear my phone. About an hour later I noticed I had a missed call. I stepped out and returned their call only to realize they had called to tell me if I wasn't available to pick him up "within 2 hours", the kitty was going to the next family. (This shelter knew I drove over an hour to their location. So there was no way we would have gotten there in time.) I told them to let him go to the next family. It was the right thing to do. A little while later I saw Lincoln on one of the shelter sites. And I was IMMEDIATELY drawn to the cute little scar she has on her lip. I called about setting up and appointment. We met her, super sweet. They told me there was a long list to adopt her and that our application would be the 7th in line. Our hopes were low on this one but instead I decided to put the application in anyways. It scared me how much I had already fallen in love with her and knowing it was a small chance I would get her-- I cried the whole drive home. The following day the shelter called me. I missed the call because I was busy at the time. I started to have deja vu! They were calling me to tell me that she was no longer available. I knew it. My anxiety was through the roof, I was already crying because I knew that it was a long shot. Expecting to hear this woman tell me I wasn't able to adopt Lincoln, I took a deep breath and called them back about an hour later when I had time to settle down. "You can come to pick her up tomorrow." I honestly didn't hear anything else after that. I was crying in disbelief. I was so sure we wouldn't get her. I cried so hard and for so long. When we went in the following morning the lady explained to us that our application was the newest one and she saw how much we liked her. So she followed up on the other applicants and most of them were either no longer interested or had found another cat. We took her home right after her surgery. And she honestly fit in almost perfectly, once Mozart stopped hissing at her EVERY TIME SHE MOVED! There were no fights or anything. They got on together after maybe a month of him sizing her up. She came into our home and started doing things our YinYang had done before her. Link followed me everywhere I went, she would try and cheer me up when I was sad-- brought me any toy she could carry. It was heartbreaking to think that we had not only found such a sweet little girl but that it was like YinYang had guided her to us himself. Taught her everything she needs to know about me so she could look after me now. Everything happens for a reason. We went through that process for a reason. And I think the reason was so we could have the perfect cat to heal this family.

#links story #cats #pet story #perfect kitty #cat adoption #everything happens for a reason #blessed #angel kitty

0 notes

neon-in-the-night-time · 2 years ago

Text

songs i’d sell my soul to hear as a surprise song at eras

i’m making this before the second vegas show so if any of these end up being a surprise song at another show that's why

(3/26 edit: 2 of these were surprise songs last night i’m gonna cross them off as they go. it'll be fun)

i have the 5/14 mothers day show so it's pretty much a guarantee that one of them will be the best day, and it’s also at lincoln financial field, so if she does gold rush as a surprise song, it’ll probably be at one of the philly shows because of the eagles t-shirt line

debut:

a place in this world

the outside

should’ve said no

mary’s song (oh my my my)

our song (my sister and i both really wanted this but apparently she did it last night 😔)

*i’m only me when i’m with you* this is my favorite song off of debut i would actually cry if she plays it. she probably won’t, no one ever talks about it, but still

picture to burn would be fun too but if she does that she’d get a crowd full of swiftness screaming the homophobic version so i don’t think it’s likely

fearless:

hey stephen

white horse (this was my favorite song from fearless when i was in middle school. no i was not ok)

tell me why

*the way i loved you* again, favorite song off the album

forever and always

like i mentioned before, she’s probably gonna do the best day at my show, and i will be happy with that. can’t really relate to it (#mommyissues) but it’s a good song

change

mr perfectly fine

speak now:

sparks fly

speak now

mean

the story of us

haunted (my sister’s really hoping for this one)

*long live*

ours (i know it’s about john mayer but i didn’t know that when i fell in love with it)

red:

treacherous

stay stay stay

*holy ground* this is like MY SONG. i love it so much. i don’t need to hear it live to scream it at the top of my lungs, but i would foam at the mouth if it happened

starlight

message in a bottle

1989:

all you had to do was stay

how you get the girl

clean

*new romantics*

rep:

ngl this album’s a little bitter for me because i could have gone to rep tour, i was 14, i was definitely old enough, but my parents are little bitches. i didn’t even bother asking because i knew they’d say know then i’d get a lecture

getaway car

this is why we can’t have nice things

*new years day*

lover:

i think he knows

*paper rings*

london boy

false god

afterglow

me! this might be an unpopular opinion but i think it’s a bop. and if i could hear a version of it without brendan urie (🤢) and taylor’s on the second verse alone, i think i could die happy

it’s nice to have a friend (this gets some hate i think, which sucks because it’s a cute song)

daylight

folklore:

exile

seven

the lakes

most of my favorites from this album are already on the setlist :)

evermore:

no body no crime. i wasn’t gonna hope for it because it features haim but she did snow on the beach last night without lana del rey, so: i’m optimistic

dorothea

ivy (not because it’s in my top picks for this album (i do like it though) but it’s my sister’s number 1 favorite out of her entire disography so i’m legally obligated to put it here)

cowboy like me

*long story short* back when i was into h*rry potter i read a really good pavender fic based on this song

closure

midnights:

maroon

yoyok (this is everyone’s favorite i think but it’s so good)

question…?

*paris*

glitch

hits different (i don’t think she’s gonna acknowledge it exists but a girl (gender neutral) can dream)

like folklore a lot of my favorites are already on the set list

#taylor swift #eras tour

1 note · View note

jamneuromain · 1 year ago

Text

OH GOOD GOD I'M COMPLETELY OVERWHELMED(IN A GOOD WAY) OVER THE ENEMY TURNED LOVER TROPE THIS IS EXHIBITING

And yet, his body seemed ...too small to contain the magnitude of the jerk he was being at the moment. // Because Steven Grant Rogers, Mr. Captain America with the ego of the size of his very moniker,

I did not expect this for one bit and I burst out laughing. Oh anika, you have a way with words that's beyond my ability to contain my facial expressions XD

His utter confidence that his plan was as flawless as the first kiss in the early era Taylor Swift songs; // You knew the answer already and it was annoyingly fitting to a considerably newer Talor Swift song: it was you. You were the problem he had.

lmao taylor swift references I can't breathe

(clear my throat) (walk on the stage) (adjust the microphone) (turn on the microphone) (start the background music) (sing "I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IN... NOW I'M LYING ON THE COLD HARD GROUND~") (STEVE: "AHHHHH-")(STEVE: "AHHHHH-")(me: "TROUBLE TROUBLE~")

“You should have let me do it! I would have been able to get it to Lincoln or someone else!”

AHHHHHH LINCOLN! the cute boy who can zip zap lightening ;_; I'm always quite fond of him in the Agents of SHIELD

He only scoffed at your argument, crossing his arms on his stupidly wide chest.

Yup she loves him

For two, you might as well wave a red cloth in front of an already enraged bull.

Ouch- what reader said really did a number on Steve :l (I don't blame her though, Steve did have way too large of ego while reader is used to digesting her failures on her own - on this aspect, they are stunningly similar so yeah, Steve waved the red cloth as well

“But I’m sure you wouldn’t only walk, would you? You’d fucking dance en pointe and throw in a few grands jetés en tournant just for the kicks, huh? Because you are Mr.Perfect!”

i speak zero french but this doesn't stop me from laughing again skjsjskjskjskjskjsj

"...Not all of us can do what you do, just push through everything! We fail, we hurt and we barely survive only to disappoint people like you!”

okay, OUCH. Damn this is an emotional soft spot even for me

“No, sir.” Good girl. “Clearly, you do,” Rogers opposed, eyes dark as they watched you sharply. Well, then. Bad girl it was.

UHHHHH HE PROBABLY SHOULDN'T HAVE POKED HER FURTHER. But the good girl/bad girl line did send my mind into the gutters for a second lol

“Excuse me?!” “Excused. I bet you were aaaaaaall about following orders in your time, weren’t you?”

This is incredibly hilarious for me "Excused" lmao I'm loving her more by the second

You swallowed the you too and simply nodded sharply before you walked away, emotions swirling wildly; and at the centre of them all, remorse and puzzlement, wrapped in a familiar sensation of agony. //

“Those were files about him – he deserves the truth and to hear it from you. I’m sure he’d be less angry with you too.” Somehow, her last suggestion was even more terrifying than Steve Rogers being all in your face and snarling.

Bucky said, ... a grin audible in his voice. “Communication is key.” “You need to stop hanging out with Sam,” Steve grumbled. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

uh-huh, yeah sure steve, I totally don't believe you

“Nope,” his friend quipped, smiling charmingly at the group of agents they passed in the hallway and briefly, Steve imagined what they had to look like; a brooding Captain practically running away from the sunshine-like Winter Soldier. Clint would call them comedy gold; and Steve didn’t give a damn.

Mr. Dippy and Mr. Chippy

...before he’d vent his frustration with you in a completely different way, with nips of teeth on that lower lip of yours, always pouting a bit when you got into one of your not so frequent but not so rare arguments, having you scream his name in ecstasy instead of defiance, a breathy whine of Mighty Captain without the snark.

I .. uh.. have a friend who really wants to see that :3

(and the punk and jerk banter XD I love it everytime

“Steve’s initials.”

oh shit oh crap i have a feeling it's going to get worse

but I don’t think they were replicating the serum – I think they were trying to neutralize it, neutralize Steve specifically.”

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT WAIT WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?

The pain would snap back when her projection comes back to her body??? WHAAAAAAT??? and someone died because of it??? NOT TELLING ANYONE??????

this just raise a whole set of puzzles for me

oh damn it's been such a hell of a ride (of reading ) for me, How will nat tell the others? did they go on another mission that causes reader and steve to be trapped? what happened to those files that could possibly neutralize steve's serum? and how are they navigating their relationship among all this?? I want to know ;_;

Thank you for this amazing (and funny) chapter <3

Back and Forth - part 1

Part 1 - Snap Back

Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 7400

Series summary:

In which the mission goes to hell and you and Steve clash. Again.

Series masterlist

Warnings: blood, canon-typical violence, mention of gunshot wounds, hints of unhealthy relationship to pain, mention of death, some angst

A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance

Steve Rogers was a very large man. Over two hundred pounds of muscle, over six feet three tall, he towered and loomed and hovered above everything and everyone. And yet, his body seemed too small to contain the huge ball of righteous anger, too small to contain the magnitude of the jerk he was being at the moment.

It must have been one of his greatest talents.

And you understood. You understood why he was pacing around, his face the perfect storm with lightning flashing from his eyes, his voice thundering; the mission was a failure, fire and destruction left behind without the important data retrieved. Hell, you understood a little too well how much of that was your fault therefore he had every right to be angry with you.

And yet. Yet, you couldn’t comprehend how that supposedly righteous man spitted around words full of rage when he was to blame himself too.

He was the one to pull you out. He was the one to shake you and break your concentration before your spectre, able to waltz behind locked doors without a key, could deliver the drive to another agent. He was the one to make you snap back, your astral projection dissipating.

Yes, your spectre had been barely walking. Yes, it had got shot in the gut and you really damn felt it. Yes, you – it, really – had been hanging on a tread, with you already at peace with the fact that once you’d snap back, you’d wake up in a hospital bed, because your body wouldn’t handle the strain. Yes, maybe you would have failed anyway, snapping back before you could do what you were supposed to. But now you’d never know, would you?

Because Steven Grant Rogers, Mr. Captain America with the ego of the size of his very moniker, couldn’t have handled you straying from his explicit order to get out earlier.

You were still shaky on your feet, barely having beaten your dizziness and having been walking the fine line of consciousness for way too long, hurting like hell the whole time, but good god, did you have the energy to fight that blonde disaster screaming you down. Especially since he was doing so in front of everyone as you remained seated on the stretcher and kept pulling at the i.v. with custom-made saline to get it from your arm and make the situation at least a bit less humiliating for you.

The audacity. The audacity it had to take for him to call you reckless and scold you for not disappearing faster despite the fact there had been another set of files that caught you eye and needed to be copied. His utter confidence that his plan was as flawless as the first kiss in the early era Taylor Swift songs; confidence that you would have got out safely and the Hydra agent would have never caught you off guard if you just listened to your Captain.

Well fuck your Captain.

You knew you were a failure. You knew that in the end, you were to blame for not getting the intel out in time before the base blown up, the flash drive lying somewhere in the corridor abandoned. Tony Stark might like to tell you that with your abilities defied the basic laws of physics, namely the law of conservation of matter and energy, but you didn’t defy them that much. You couldn’t carry things back by simply grabbing them as the spectre and snapping back to your real body; you had tried countless times, but that wasn’t how things worked, even if you wanted them to – and surely Captain Rogers did as well.

But he was the one to make you snap back. And he was able to do that, because despite the poorly masked hate he appeared to feel towards you at times, he still often made the strategic decision to be the one protecting your actual body; your paraconscious, softly levitating body, completely vulnerable to an attack. Apparently, he was the only one who could be trusted to do it after all.

Whoever called him a golden boy and actually meant it had to be an idiot.

“You should have let me do it! I would have been able to get it to Lincoln or someone else!” you argued, hands pushing at the stretcher to stand up at last, wincing at the ghost of a sharp pain tearing at your abdomen. Never mind that, that was nothing new – Rogers’ unsolicited attack and complete lack of accountability were.

He only scoffed at your argument, crossing his arms on his stupidly wide chest. The bragger. The impossible cannot-do-wrong arse-

“Would you? You were going to pass out! I know the signs by now-”

“So what?!”

“So what?!” he echoed on full volume, throwing his arm out just as wildly as the whole tantrum. “I carried you out of there because you couldn’t walk!”

How dared he-

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned regret, lowering your voice as you finally managed to rise to your feet. “I must have been such a terrible imposition to your superstrength!”

“That’s not the problem and you know it!”

Then what was his problem, you wanted to ask, but you knew that question was futile. You knew the answer already and it was annoyingly fitting to a considerably newer Talor Swift song: it was you. You were the problem he had. And the even bigger problem was that he couldn’t have you delivered back express to Coulson, because lately it seemed this team needed someone with the ability to project more than the new SHIELD did. He was stuck with you; with your apparently incapable ass.

“Do I?!” you questioned. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t just walk off a massive blood loss!”

Rogers winced as you spitted out the words; good. Maybe he’d think twice before yelling at you next time when the Quinjet hadn’t even touched the ground yet and everyone could watch your failure in HD since he served it to them on a silver platter.

You winced too as you breathed in deeply and fresh claws of pain dug into your abdomen again; really not good. But not unusual, even as there was no trace of the bullet wound on your body – because it wasn’t your actual body that got hit, not really. Still, the pain remained.

Yet, that was nothing to stop you from staring at Rogers as he glared at you with hard eyes, leaning forward, jaw so damn tense you might cut yourself on the tendons if you touched it.

“You wouldn’t have suffered-- that if you’d have just followed orders!”

“Oh really?! Get over yourself, oh Mighty Captain!”

“Get over-” he repeated as if he couldn’t comprehend you just said that, breathing in deeply to ground himself and failing spectacularly since his voice was still full of accusation. “You should have brought us intel and instead we have nothing!”

You stepped forward to get your retort across almost as quickly as you felt everything in you recoil in guilt – because Rogers was right. Of course, he was right. And you knew that. You wanted to scream and cry and throw up and take a damn nap or maybe just wake up from this fucked up dream but you couldn’t, could you?

You could barely do anything.

“Well, I’m sorry! Okay?! I couldn’t do it and I’m fucking sorry! I know I fucked up! I should have pushed through more, I know, and you have no idea how pissed I am at me! But maybe I would have been just fine, if--- you shouldn’t have stopped me!”

“I wouldn’t have to snap you back if you just did what you were supposed to do!”

You grinded your teeth. Stupid, big-headed pig-headed supersoldier, if he had had any idea-

“What were you going to say just now?” he demanded, standing even taller than before, the mask of anger and disappointment shifting towards challenge.

Fight me. Yell back. Try telling me I’m wrong, when you know I’m not.

Goddamn him. He was so damn self-assured, so overconfident it would get him killed one day and you’d be there to watch like a useless dumbass, because you couldn’t do the one thing every single agent on this team should do: have your teammates’ back.

But you couldn’t tell him that. You couldn’t.

Your shoulders sagged, exhaustion washing over you.

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, minding your volume even as most Avengers and other agents got the memo and tried to give you as much privacy as possible. Bless that useless gesture. “I told you, I’m sorry. I know I need to learn to push myself more despite the pain when the stakes are high, but it’s…” You caught a flash of a new emotion you couldn’t decipher in his eyes and you looked away, scoffing, frustration flaring up again. “Why am I even telling you, what would you know about that, huh?”

What would the perfectly mighty walk-it-off Captain know about you peasants and your struggles. Ziltch. He was perfection personified, never wrong, never weak, never-

The sharp intake of breath had you snap your gaze back – and your heart stumbled in your chest. One brief glance at him and you regretted your words instantly. For one, you were too well-aware of the fact that they were bullshit. For two, you might as well wave a red cloth in front of an already enraged bull.

Steve Rogers bristled, teeth practically bared like those of an animal; he snarled like one too, but it was the tone that had cut you. The tone said so much more than his actual words and that message was like a muleta for you for a change.

“Is that what you think? You think I don’t feel pain?!”

“Maybe you don’t feel anything at all!” you snapped, throwing your arms up, gritting your teeth and closing your fists at the sharp bite at your belly at the movement. For fuck’s sake- “It sure as hell looks like it to me, to everyone! Especially since you’re yelling at me right now! I know I fucked up but it’s not easy on me either!”

The realization that he was acting like an asshole must have been quick – he froze for but a split second – but the fact he cared little for that was even faster, his counterattack coming in hot.

“Well, allow me to correct you, agent, I do feel pain – and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body because I only have one!”

And you laughed. The burst of sardonic laugh tasted like hysteria on your tongue, actual tears burning in your eyes.

Switch it off. Switch it off as you pleased. God, that was funny. That was hilarious. So hilarious you wanted to cry. You pretended that the palm that you lifted to your face was to muffle the laughter and not to check whether some of your tears didn’t escape.

“Ooooh, ohohohooo, you think being me is so great, don’t you? Walk a mile in my shoes, Captain, we’ll see how you’ll like it!” you spat, laughing again. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t only walk, would you? You’d fucking dance en pointe and throw in a few grands jetés en tournant just for the kicks, huh? Because you are Mr.Perfect!”

Despite your challenging words, his demeanour changed in as if you snapped your fingers and the reason for that had your chest tighten in panic.

He noticed the tears. You could tell because he blinked, eyes suddenly roaming your face, his voice falling so quiet you barely heard it all of sudden; but perhaps that was only due to the ringing in your ears, the pulsing in your temples.

“That’s not--- I didn’t mean to--“

You cared shit about what he meant or didn’t mean at the moment. He saw you weak. Again. Not only you had failed, hadn’t handled the mission physically, now you were falling apart mentally right in front of him.

He was going to bench you. Worse, he was going to send you express to Coulson despite needing someone with your abilities and he would never ask you to join the Avengers again.

Fight. Show him you have the fire. Show him you’ve got what it takes. Don’t let him think you gave up.

“Well guess what, Captain, I feel pain too and I don’t have the luxury to heal in a few seconds!”

“I don’t heal that-“ he objected lowly and that was the last drop. The last drop and you cracked.

“I KNOW, okay?! You heal faster than anyone, but you still need to heal, because you can get hurt and you can get killed!” His eyes went wide and you gulped; he heard your voice break. Fuck. “Even if you don’t act like it, because you’re the mighty Captain, after all-“ you added quickly to divert his attention.

And the distraction worked. Too bad it didn’t work for you, words still spilling since the dam had been broken.

“Would you stop calling me-“

“Not all of us can be perfect soldiers, the ultimate heroes! Not all of us can do what you do, just push through everything! We fail, we hurt and we barely survive only to disappoint people like you!” you cried out.

It was the line about disappointment, you were certain – something in his expression shifted again and this time, all fight left your body for good, something inside you breaking. The new emotion on his face almost looked like compassion and you didn’t need that. You didn’t need the demigod amongst men and women to pity you and feel for you, especially not now. Not now when you didn’t deserve it because he was right and now this? You hadn’t been fast enough and strong enough – and he might have scolded you for in front of everyone, but now it seemed as if he regretted that because he needed to be the bigger person just to be fucking more perfect and you couldn’t bear it. You never could.

There was a reason why you always jumped to defence when he showed disappointment in you.

Your voice came out as but a whisper, but you made sure it was firm one. “I failed. I disappointed you and everyone else, I know. I’m sorry. I shall accept the punishment as you see fit even if that doesn’t make up for my failure.”

Nor blind nor deaf, Steve’s demeanour changed too; his eyes were suddenly as kind as his words and that was the worst part.

“I have no doubt you tried your best, Specter, and that’s all we can ever do. The only punishment which will come is one for not following orders.”

You couldn’t help it. You should have, since you were already in such a mess, most of it of your own making, but hearing him utter those words, him of all people. The irony. You scoffed.

And like a charm, all of his benevolence evaporated in an instant; his back straightened, head held high.

“You’ve got anything to say?”

The words prickled at your tongue but you swallowed them. No. Don’t say it.

“No, sir.” Good girl.

“Clearly, you do,” Rogers opposed, eyes dark as they watched you sharply.

Well, then. Bad girl it was.

“Do I? Fine. You’re a big fat hypocrite.”

You might have as well stuck a bar into a bee hive and poked around, aiming for the queen. Rogers went from slightly annoyed to ballistic in a split second, back in your face.

“Excuse me?!”

“Excused. I bet you were aaaaaaall about following orders in your time, weren’t you?” you mocked him, knowing you were so on point it had to burn him – that was, if he took a moment to actually consider your words, the words of the inferior, painfully imperfect being. “Even now. Never reckless, never out of line if you feel like it’s the right thing to do. Never pushy with your superstrength, never just removing people who stand in your way, because you can and you will get away with it, because you are the saint who does no wrong, not at all-“

It was his turn to scoff, his eyes burning with bright blue flame of righteousness – and disdain.

“You think being me is so great, don’t you?” he threw back your earlier words, bitter, clearly regretting the sympathy he had found for you earlier. He crossed his arms on his chest again, shaking his head, a sardonic smile on his lips. “You have me all figured out.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. So I know you’d do the same in my place and I know that’s why you’re so angry with me. We always get mad when we’re offered a mirror, don’t we?” you pressed, mirroring his bitter smile indeed.

Something flashed in his eyes, voice dropping low. Dangerously low. “I am angry. You have no idea, Specter.”

Good. Then you had at least something in common.

“Well, so am I. You have no authority to decide when I have enough-“

“As your captain, I actually do-” he interjected, raising his voice again and you just rolled your eyes.

You were insanely grateful for the familiar sensation of slight popping in your ears, the gentle swing of the floor under your feet. You’d be more grateful for it if you didn’t have to stifle a cry, when your body naturally attempted to balance it out and didn’t feel the burn in your abdomen, but you couldn’t always get what you wanted, could you?

Case on a damn point.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, right,” you said, looking straight into your captain’s eyes, sticking your chin out defiantly, saccharine voice of obedience dripping from your lips, heavy with sarcasm. “Well, if you, sir, have anything else to say, say it now, because we’re landing and I’m about to take a shower and sleep for a week. That is if I am allowed. Or do I need to submit an official request?”

You couldn’t tell whether he wanted to shout again or do exactly what you suggested you would do; because suddenly he, too, seemed dead tired, as if your shouting match exhausted him more than the mission or your failure. He stared at you, silent, for a few long moments – a few too many, almost enough to make you feel guilty again for calling him out on his bullshit, enough to make you consider apologizing for that.

Then he sighed. “No, you don’t, Agent. I hope you’ll rest well.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a shocked beat. His voice was surprisingly soft and sincere, his gaze roaming over you head to toe, seemingly concerned.

Did you just break him? Kindness was far from uncommon in him – once you’d calm down, you’d be more inclined to believe that again, you knew as much – but the sudden change genuinely startled you.

“Uhm… thanks,” you muttered, too taken aback to talk back as you walked backwards. He truly looked worn down to a bone, his brain no doubt racing, already figuring out how to fix the mess you had left behind. He looked like he needed a goddamn nap himself. Except you didn’t think he’d take it; that was part of his problem.

Hypocrite.

You swallowed the you too and simply nodded sharply before you walked away, emotions swirling wildly; and at the centre of them all, remorse and puzzlement, wrapped in a familiar sensation of agony.

Winter Soldier was a moniker Steve Rogers loathed; but the reputation which came with that name was not unearned.

When Bucky appeared behind his shoulder out of nowhere, no sound having been made, Steve nearly jumped out of his skin; and it was a true testament to how upset he was that he hadn’t heard Bucky sneak up on him despite his slightly enhanced senses.

“Well, that went spectacularly,” Bucky hummed, instantly making Steve groan internally.

He did not want to deal with this – he wanted to forget about this whole ordeal. The fact itself that Bucky was cheery about a sleeper Hydra cell simply because he had an opportunity to tease him about what had just gone down only added to his annoyance.

He was tired. He was mad. He was confused. He was disappointed – both in you and himself. He was… frustrated. So frustrated; then again, those emotions and the last one in general were no news in your presence, much like many others, but those in particular he wanted to ponder over even less.

“Bucky, don’t,” he warned his friend lowly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye as they made a slow way out of the jet.

It was a waste of words, really: Steve didn’t know what he was thinking, believing the warning would actually discourage Bucky from speaking.

“You know, maybe if you told her that the main reason why you’re so pissed-“

“Buck-“

“- is the fact that she’s challenging your authority which makes you question yourself, and that you’re terrified every time she gets hurt or loses consciousness, be it her projection or, god forbid, her real body, because you care juuuust a little too much for her, then maybe… “

Steve loved his best friend; but if looks could kill, the one he shot him at the verbalized implications, however truthful, could have murdered him on spot.

“Just saying,” Bucky said, shrugging as he kept up with Steve’s sudden strut, a grin audible in his voice. “Communication is key.”

“You need to stop hanging out with Sam,” Steve grumbled. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bucky snorted, causing Steve’s head to whip in his direction in annoyance. Didn’t Bucky have a lady to tend to? Why did he have to stick around and poke around Steve’s already exhausted brain and feed the already messy whirlwind of emotion? Oh right. Bucky would say it was payback for all the years Bucky spent saving Steve’s puny ass from the back alleys.

“Right. Just like you had no idea what she was talking about when she called you a hypocrite, because you wouldn’t do the same, try to deliver all the files you could even if it meant you’d bleed the heck out, right? Your real body, that is, because you only have one…”

Goddamnit Bucky.

“Bucky, that’s enough.”

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. Steve just shot him another glare as they rounded the corner, the corridor now blissfully empty. And sadly, endless with nowhere to hide. “Too bad, punk. You might be the Captain, but you’re still my friend. I’ll be bothering your reckless ass and call you out till the end of the line. And I’m telling you – you two need to get your shit together and make up. And maybe you should finally tell her you’d like to make out. But if I were you, I’d start with that apology.”

Steve stopped so abruptly Bucky nearly collided with him. The flare or anger – because goddammit was Bucky right in certain things and it was truly bothersome to hear those – licked at his gut. As he turned to give his most loyal and precious friend a piece of his mind in return, he found him with a knowing smirk on his face. Why were they friends again?

“Really? An apology?” Steve questioned, the idea absurd even as guilt had already joined the party a while ago. “For what exactly? She should have--- one of those days, she’s gonna-” Steve swallowed against the lump in his throat. He did not like the way the sentence could end. How you could end. But he’d scream at you again before he’d admit that; you brought out that side of him for some reason. You brought out a lot of things, most of them unpleasant. Most of them. “She should have followed orders.”

Bucky’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline – which wasn’t too high given how much he’d let his hair grow, but it still served the purpose of irritating Steve.

“Sure she should. And if you have always followed orders, I’d be dead.”

Steve winced as if he got punched in the gut, all flames of anger put out at once. Bucky just shrugged, unbothered by his hypothetical death.

“That’s a fact, punk. And here’s another: your mother would have boxed your ears for treating a lady the way you just did.”

And this isn’t you, Steve heard the unspoken words and with those he couldn’t argue.

The truth was, Steve didn’t recognize himself around you. He hadn’t more than once but it had never got as intense as it had just now. He felt almost possessed, an astral projection of his own, except he couldn’t control it as it raised its voice like that, in front of the whole team no less. And the worst thing was, it wasn’t a projection; the blame was entirely on him as he failed to contain the onslaught of emotion so sharp and large that he just let it all out. Almost all of it.

The one urge he tried to contain was the one to just slam you to a wall and scream the whole truth before he’d vent his frustration with you in a completely different way, with nips of teeth on that lower lip of yours, always pouting a bit when you got into one of your not so frequent but not so rare arguments, having you scream his name in ecstasy instead of defiance, a breathy whine of Mighty Captain without the snark. He was sure that would have raised a few eyebrows, but hopefully the room would clear in three seconds flat after your back would have hit the wall.

In all honesty, the whole scene had been surreal as it was; Steve had had trouble recognizing you as well. You had disagreed with him a few times, yes, you challenged his authority and questioned his decisions, yes; he had a pretty strong feeling that he was most definitely not your favourite person and more often than not, he didn’t quite understand you – but you had never so blatantly disobeyed an order. You had never endangered a mission or your teammates, never played this much of a Russian roulette, even if one might call you an overachiever which sometimes came with a bit of recklessness by default.

It was true that you could be unpredictable at times; one day you followed instructions to a tee, dutiful, meticulous even; another day, you stood firmly in opposition. One day you dotted on others in almost an overbearing quality, another day it was like you evaporated from the face of Earth, completely absent. But what came over you today, Steve had had no idea – you had been not only reckless, but to a great point, careless. Steve’s mind was blown, but not in the good sense.

That said, he was not pleased with himself either, particularly with the fact was that he had acted impulsively during the mission too. You were definitely right to call him out on it; but that didn’t mean he liked it.

He glanced at Bucky, who was watching him with one corner of his lips still raised knowingly, only fuelling Steve’s ire. Despite all that, Steve knew Bucky was right. And unlike when he was in your presence, he didn’t feel the need to deny that completely.

Sarah Rogers, god rest her precious soul, would have been profoundly disappointed in his behaviour and she would have let him hear it too, despite the infinite kindness and forgiveness she had carried in her heart.

“I know,” Steve sighed. “I shouldn’t have--- she’s just so- I-“

“I know, punk,” Bucky said forgivingly. “I know. That girl has some serious fire in her and she’s not the easiest to deal with, even if she means well, no doubt. Who does that only remind me of…?”

Steve glared at him, unimpressed – he was aware, thank you very much. Not only opposites attracted. Though he was quite certain this attraction was one-sided; and completely insane.

Bucky just grinned and patted Steve’s shoulder.

“Take a nap, Steve. We all deserve one, even if things didn’t go as planned. We’ll get them next time – as a team. Share some of that burden you strap to your shoulders every time to strap on that shield, would you? It can do wonders, believe me.”

“You really do need to stop hanging out with Sam and spend more time with Nat,” Steve uttered, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Shut up, punk, you love me mental health conscious.”

A full grin attacked Steve’s lips now, troubles forgotten momentarily, unlike the fact why Bucky Barnes was his best friend.

“Jury’s out, jerk”

Even as you felt the fire of rage slowly dying, you tried to feed it; because it kept you on your feet. You had not in fact went to lie down, even as you felt those feet dragging more than walking to Natasha Romanoff’ office. She didn’t spend too much time in it, always having better things to do than paperwork, but you knew she’d want her report to be done as fast as possible to move on exactly to those more important things.

And you knew that as long as she was there, her office was conveniently the best place to talk, the camera system disabled.

“Well, hello,” the redhead hummed as she had Jarvis let you storm in, breathless for more than one reason.

Your abdomen was throbbing, but you didn’t have time for that. It wasn’t like you were going to bleed out from a non-existent wound.

“We need to go back there and fix it.”

The infamous Black Widow only raised her eyebrow at your dishevelled state and frantic words, leaning back into her chair. You admitted you had to be a sight to the devil himself since you probably looked like hell, but you rarely let that stop you.

“Water under bridge, Specter. The base is blown so there’s nothing to go back to and the rest of them will go deep under-“

You shook your head, stalking to her desk, leaning onto your hands, fingers spasming at the bite of pain. Bad idea. And bad phrasing.

“No, Natasha, we—” She scanned you head to toe, her other eyebrow arching as well as you had boldly invaded her space, practically asking to be removed. Violently. You didn’t have the energy to lean back, not right away. You weren’t friends, so you had no right to be so close, but she’d get over it, you were sure. The worst thing to happen would be her breaking off your wrist or something. “What I mean is that we have to act now and get those files. All of them.”

Her gaze zeroed on your face, unnervingly searching and seeing, head tilting to side in genuine curiosity.

“What exactly was in those files that it made you hesitate? You rarely ignore orders,” she stated matter-of-factly, causing you to retreat and step back. Oh. Crap. Black Widow in offensive. She walked around the desk, leaning her weight onto it, crossing her arms over her chest. “What did you see, Specter?”

You gulped; there was no way around it, even as panic made your breathing even harder. There were so many things wrong with what you were about to say and you had no capacity to analyse why you felt the way you felt about it, let alone why you felt even worse about the fact you were the reason why you hadn’t got the intel to others.

“Steve’s initials.”

Even as her brows had smoothened, they arched again now, eyes growing wide. You swallowed against the lump in your throat.

“I tried to copy it and just opened it for a bit, too immersed to notice the unfriendly. Naturally, I got the bullet for my trouble before I neutralized him, but that’s beside the point,” you said, not missing the corner of her lips twitching. “They were… Natasha, they weren’t just some photos or whatever. Those were… they were inventing some shit. It was physics, chemistry, half of the things I didn’t understand, but I don’t think they were replicating the serum – I think they were trying to neutralize it, neutralize Steve specifically.”

And there was no way I was going to leave that there, was left unspoken, but she heard it. Of course she did; this was Natasha Romanoff you were talking to. She didn’t need you two to be friends to read between the lines of what you were saying.

“I see,” she said slowly, the damn intensity of her gaze not relenting. “And you didn’t tell Steve that when he was yelling you down, because…?”

“It was irrelevant.”

“Bullshit.”

“He wouldn’t believe me.”

She scoffed, glaring you down. “That’s bullshit too and you know it.”

Okay, that was fair. But believing was a lot different from taking action. His damn pride would have still had him snapping you back to your real body even if you had yelled at him through the comms what kind of intel you had been carrying on the drive before he messed it up for you – and him. What the heck had he been thinking, breaking your concentration like that? The utter confusion at his actions – because surely it couldn’t have been he had been so angry with you to endanger the mission – only made the matter of your fight worse.

Natasha was right, however – that was just water under bridge. You sure as hell weren’t about to go ask him what possessed him to be more insufferable than normal and you could hardly fly to the pile of debris you had left behind when the place blew up to search for scraps of hard drives.

“Fine. I didn’t think he’d take it seriously,” you admitted at last.

“Now we’re talking,” Natasha said, nodding, a small smirk appearing on her lips, making you frown.

She sure was taking it in stride all of sudden, almost as if--- was she amused? You hoped that was only a mask and in her sharp mind, she was already building a battleplan. She had to. She was one of Steve’s closest friends, real friends, you knew as much. Sometimes her nonchalance truly irritated you. Would it kill her to show more emotion?

Hypocrite.

“But that’s not enough,” she added. “Steve, bless his heart, can be an ass, but not a complete idiot. Any other particular reason why you’d keep it from him?”

Your face was a mask of neutrality. Or you hoped so.

“Nope.”

Natasha watched you sceptically and you swallowed against the lump in your throat.

Naturally, there was a plethora of reasons and on top of them sat the fact that he’d know. He’d know how much you cared. He probably figured out anyway and maybe he wasn’t one to make fun of you for that – scratch that, he definitely wasn’t, he was too much of a good guy for that – but that meant nothing. Caring for people was dangerous; caring for people when you failed meant they’d be taken away. Having people to care for – good people – was a privilege, a reward, one that could easily be confiscated unless you reached perfection.

And yes. You knew Steve Rogers was a good guy, even when he decided to yell at you in front of everyone and challenged you and made you want to smash him against the wall and bite into his stupid plump lower lip and then cuddle him and tell him he didn’t have to be so strong and that people cared about his safety too. Of course you knew he felt pain, but he just never showed it, and it was just so damn irritating, because you needed him to be only human too, so you wouldn’t feel so pathetic despite your powers, so you’d feel a little more worthy. You were well-aware that your way of thinking wasn’t healthy, especially since Steve was a person you could never and should never compare yourself to because that standard was just impossibly high, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to meet it. That didn’t mean your family hadn’t set the standards just as high. Perfection was not an unreachable standard, even as it always seemed to be out of reach for you.

However, knowing that precisely that was one of the main reasons why you admired Steve as much as you wanted to punch him to his perfect teeth didn’t help you coexist with him or stopped you from acting like a five-year-old in his vicinity.

On top of that, you were fully aware of how disappointed he would be in you for failing in one particular task which you were sure he considered the most important one: to have your teammates’ six. And you wouldn’t handle that; you were selfish even to that point. To have Captain Rogers learn you hadn’t been strong and fast enough to retrieve data which increased the chance of keeping a key member of your team safe and watch his reaction up close would break your damn barely patched up heart.

Natasha continued to watch you as you zoned out, her smirk growing. “Right. No other reason at all then.”

Oh, she knew about it all, alright. You had no doubt. She might not show much emotion, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t mastered reading other people’s tells. If you had any emotional capacity left, you’d be ashamed at how your face burned under her watchful gaze.

“Will you please tell the others about the files?” you asked instead, causing her to tilt her head to side a fraction again.

“I will, but why should I? Why, when you can be the one to do it? If nothing else, you should tell Steve,” she said, almost motherly you supposed – not that you’d know. “Those were files about him – he deserves the truth and to hear it from you. I’m sure he’d be less angry with you too.”

Somehow, her last suggestion was even more terrifying than Steve Rogers being all in your face and snarling. You attempted a smile, masking the anxiety curling in your gut by exhaustion.

“Maybe. I just… it might be childish, but I don’t… I don’t have the energy for that now. Tell me what else I can do and I will, but not that.”

She watched you silently for several long moments, a small smile curling up her lips – almost a compassionate one. What was it with people and their damn compassion today? You had fucked up. Why was Steve the only one to acknowledge that and why was he relatively nice about it in the end, just like Natasha now? Frankly, as much as you preferred not being completely on Black Widow’s bad side, earning her pity was exponentially worse.

“You know, most things are not going to go away just because you pretend that they don’t exist. Least of all feelings.”

It’s been working out pretty well for you, you wanted to throw back, but Bucky Barnes, the love and the lover who was one of the few people who could slip under the hard shell of Natasha Romanoff, would probably argue with you that it worked for her the best when she did let someone in. But unlike you, Natasha Romanoff did not make mistakes and was an epitome of perfection herself so she could afford that. Natasha Romanoff was terrifying; you’d like to watch someone try to mess with her.

You, on the other hand, were no Black Widow. You could and even had to keep pretending in order to exist.

“Just watch me.”

She sighed, letting her hands fall to her sides. “Go to bed, Specter. I know you still feel that gunshot wound.”

You froze.

Your heart skipped a beat – several beats, you were sure – because your chest suddenly hurt, panic clawing up your throat anew.

She knew. She knew.

How did she--- how? You always fought so hard to hide it, as much as of a pain that was; horrible pun included.

Yes, you sure as hell still felt the gunshot wound. With every move. With every breath. Every time you had strained your muscles to yell back at Steve.

The pain of whatever injury your spectre sustained alwayslingered. Ironically, it was only thing you actually were able to carry when you snapped back. It stayed with you for a while; not the whole time that it would take for the wound to heal, but it still took days sometimes, days of pain whose intensity slowly faded away. An invisible aching wound – like a pain in a phantom limb. There was no evidence of an injury in your body, but your brain still registered it. No therapeutic approach had worked when you finally accepted that despite what you had been taught, this wasn’t normal; only for having to accept that with no solution in sight, it actually was normal. Then again, what was normal when you only had one sample to examine?

“You mostly hide it well, don’t worry,” Natasha’s voice snapped you from your dark thoughts, uncharacteristically soft. “Your secret is safe with me. But that doesn’t mean it should.”

“It definitely should,” you said in at instant, eyes hard despite the tell-tale burn of tears you felt. If anyone knew – anyone else, that was, apparently – you’d be done. Benched forever.

I do feel pain and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body, Steve had thrown at you. If he hadn’t noticed, you were good; you had indeed hid it well enough and that was all that mattered; despite bickering and yelling, he was still willing to work with you. But that would change very quickly; and he had the authority to kick you out of this team and this business completely.

Sure, Natasha had the power to bench you and even fire you as well, but judging by the way she was looking at you now, no matter how disapprovingly and somewhat proud at once, she wouldn’t. It would be okay – as long as she’d keep her mouth shut about it just as Andy had. Andrew Garner, the only person who had known your painful secret and encouraged you to engage with various therapy approaches to rid you off your burden. He had taken the secret to the grave, never having told nor Coulson, nor the rest of his team.

The one person who had known about this was dead; and if that wasn’t a clear enough message that no one else was supposed be trusted with this, you didn’t know what else would.

“It should,” you repeated, inhaling and instantly regretting it. You swallowed as Natasha didn’t miss the tiny hitch in your breath. Dammit you needed to get better at hiding it. And you would. “Please. Tell me what else I can do.”

Perhaps it was your true superpower to make people sigh, not to project into another room, because the redhead observed you for another long moment before sighing again.

“I meant it, Specter – go to bed. After I’ll tell the others, we might need you. Rested. With as much as you can give.”

One corner of your lips rose in a tired defiant smirk. “I can give everything.”

The look Natasha gave you before you spun on your heels told you that precisely that was both the blessing and the problem. But you didn’t need to be told more than twice to go to bed.

As you walked out, trying your hardest to walk completely straight and not hunch over even a bit, you heard Natasha’s completely exhausted sigh.

Next chapter

Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist

Alright folks, life's been quite busy so this was born through sweat and tears and I don't think it will get better any time soon, but hopefully the result will be worth it 🥰

There are and will be a few distant references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I think you should be fine whout having watched the show.

Thank you for reading 🥰 As always, if you have he time and energy, I'd greatly appreciate your reblogs and feedback, be it even a key smash or yelling at me should the need arise 🤭

#jnmreads #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you

252 notes · View notes

porcelaindoll-exe · 3 years ago

Text

☇ Starcourt Bathrooms — E.M.

— warnings ；very slight nsfw, allusions to sex, making out.

— A/N ；a small blurb while I work on a bigger fic for this cutie and steve <33 might continue this since I have some ideas, but not quite sure! ♡

This was torture.

Actual fucking torture.

The skirt was too tiny, the uniform itself was too tight and the material was cheap and itchy against your poor skin.

You almost envied Robin and Steve for having chosen to wear the shorts instead of the skirt, since it at least covered their ass from whoever looked down.

But apart from that, working at Scoops was somewhat bearable.

"Morning'!"

Scratch that, everything was awful.

Plastering on a fake smile, you pushed open the door, eye twitching as you saw him leaning against the counter, a taunting smile on his lips and fingers fidgeting with a blunt.

"Good morning, Eddie."

"Hm... I love how you say my name." The boy hummed as he repositioned himself so he was leaning down, head resting on his hands and elbows on the counter, not caring about how sticky his leather jacket would get from the melted ice cream that was caked onto the top.

"And I'd love for you to stop showing up here."

You spat, venom lacing your tone regardless of the sweet smile you continued to wear as you got a cone out, already knowing his ice cream order by heart.

"We both know that's impossible, toots. You're just too pretty to look at."

Eddie snickered as you groaned loudly, the other people in the establishment turning to look at you in confusion, the embarrassment that it caused you only fueling Eddie more.

"Come on... It's not like you dislike me being here."

You finished pouring the sprinkles on the ice cream before shoving it into his chest, your other hand out demanding the money.

"Correct. I hate you being here."

You snapped, snatching the bills aways as soon as they were in your hand and opening the register, frown deepening upon your realisation that he wasn't leaving.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just, uh. If I were you, I'd check the money."

Before you even got to ask what he was on about, he had turned around and started to leave, slurping up the melting ice cream before it completely covered his hands.

As soon as he was out of your eyesight, you flipped through the bills, cheeks growing warm in a mixture of anger and embarrassment as you saw the sticky note glued to Lincoln's face, a single word scribbled in Sharpie.

Bathroom

"Robin, I'm taking my break!"

You shouted at your coworker, not giving her enough time to process your exclamation before you were wrenching that awful cap off your head and throwing it into the back, picking up your bag on the way and rushing in the direction of the bathrooms.

"Eager, are we?"

Eddie said cockily as he finished his cone, watching you approach him with a mischievous glint in his eyes, which quickly disappeared as you basically shoved him into the men's bathroom and into a stall.

"Shut up."

"Yes ma'am."

Your lips crashed onto his as soon as the door was locked, hands resting on his shoulders as his own tried to pull your skirt down, giving up and simply ripping your tights clean off.

"Fuck, I've missed you so much."

He groaned as he shoved his head into the crook of your neck, fingers fumbling to push your panties aside as his lips worked wonders on your soft skin, his teeth no doubt leaving marks by the way he was sinking them into your neck.

Although it was strange, this had become a regular occurrence during your summer break.

You'd die right on the spot if it was revealed to your friends that you, the so-called "Queen" of Hawkins had been secretly hooking up with Eddie "the freak" Munson in bathrooms the whole time you had been out of school.

Even though you knew it would become a scandal amongst your peers if this skeleton in the closet was revealed, you couldn't stop.

It was like a drug, and Eddie was your only supplier.

No one else could mimic the way his lips felt on your skin, the way his fingers felt when he toyed with you, the way his moans and grunts would sound when he was nearing the edge.

Nothing compared to the way Eddie Munson made you feel.

You felt slightly bad for the way you treated him when you were in public, but he always seemed to take it as a joke, his flirting only increasing with every sardonic comment you made about him.

"You feel amazing, honey."

He whispered into your ear, nails digging into your skin and leaving dark crescent marks in their wake, his tone enough to send shivers down your spine and wash away all of your troubles.

He certainly the best thing to ever happen to you.

...

Now that you thought about it... Maybe work wasn't that bad.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things s4 #[𓂅 lily's blurbs ♡ ]#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #scoops ahoy #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x you

52 notes · View notes

moonylantsovs · 4 years ago

Text

Purely Platonic [ B.B ]

request: Hi! I saw that your requests are open and I wanted to ask for a Bellamy x reader imagine. I was thinking something like you’ve been seeing each other but having defined your relationship. Then you overhear him tell someone that you two are just friends and will never be more. I would love a fluffy ending though :D

pairings: Bellamy Blake x reader

warnings: angst, jealousy, fluffy ending

Ever since your and Bellamy's kiss after the battle in Mount Weather, things have been great. And that went both ways. You two haven't exactly said what you are but you didn't see the need for it, you shared a room in Arkadia and spent most of your free time together.

There hasn't been a proper 'I love you' but you both knew you cared about each other in more ways than platonically and he didn't fail to prove that every night after your guard shifts.

Your friends didn't know what you were either, but they knew you were hooking up. At least Raven did, and she didn't disappoint in calling you out while the two of you were fixing the Rover.

But now, while you were making your way to the guards meeting room, you figured Monty knew something was up too.

"So what's the deal with you and Y/N. Did you finally get the guts to tell her how you feel?" you heard Monty ask as you walked to the room.

And you, being nosey, decided to hide behind the door to listen.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Bellamy's gruff voice came from inside.

There was a loud snort coming from Miller, "Sure you don't, buddy. Should we just pretend you two haven't been making puppy dog eyes at each other since we landed two months ago?"

"Listen," Bellamy started "I never felt whatever you two think I feel towards Y/N. We're best friends who fool around from time to time. But nothing more. We only share a room because there's no spot left and I didn't want to share a room with my sister and her boyfriend."

You felt your heart sink in your stomach and tears prick in the corners of your eyes. You knew Bellamy wasn't good at expressing his emotions to anyone besides Octavia but that doesn't mean his words hurt any less.

The sadness and hurt soon turned into anger and you turned around to make your way back to your room.

When you came in you put your gun down and took your guard jacket off to put your usual blue jean jacket on.

You took your hair out of the high ponytail it was in and made your way to the bar outside where you found Raven, Octavia, Lincoln, Wick and Gina sitting around a table.

"There you are!" Raven exclaimed as soon as she saw you walking up to the group.

"Hey, Rae." you grinned at her before looking at the rest of the group, "Everyone."

"Ouch." Wick winced, "I'm truly hurt, gorgeous."

You shook your head with a smile and sat down next to him, "Hello to you too, Kyle."

You knew Bellamy was always kind of jealous of how close you and Wick were. You two were best friends ever since you became an engineer and were basically inseparable back on The Ark. Right now, you also knew you were being petty by planning to flirt with him to get Bellamy mad.

"I thought you had a shift at the gates now?" Octavia asked you with furrowed eyebrows.

"Jones took over earlier so I just came here." you shrugged.

You looked at the drink in front of Wick and reached for it. Wick gave her a playful glare after you drank from his glass and you just stuck out your tongue making him chuckle.

He reached over to ruffle your hair and grabbed the glass from your hold, "I'll go get myself a refill and a glass for you."

"Thanks." you said, watching him walk away.

You turn back around to see Raven narrowing her eyes at you, "Something's wrong. What's wrong? Do I need to beat someone up?"

"Nothing's wrong." you told her innocently, leaning back.

"Maybe she's just sexually frustrated." Gina teased with a wink, "You should talk to Bellamy about that one."

You scoffed but before you had the chance to answer a voice from behind you spoke up, "Talk to Bellamy about what?"

When you turned around you saw Bellamy, who just walked up to the table followed by Miller.

"Just the guard's schedule." you shrugged and gave him a pointed look when he was about to sit down, "Sorry, the seat is taken."

He furrowed his eyebrows and smirked thinking you were just teasing him, "Who could possibly be more important than me?"

"Sorry that would be me." came the voice of Kyle with two glasses of alcohol in his hand.

You gave him a thankful smile once he handed you the glass while sitting down, back next to you.

Bellamy hoped his annoyance wasn't obvious as he sat down in the middle of Octavia and Gina.

Hint: it was very obvious.

Wick gave him an innocent smile while putting his arm on the back of your chair. You smiled at him already knowing he was only doing it to annoy Bellamy, which he made a big habit of.

Raven raised an amused eyebrow at the tension between the two males before clearing her throat, "Before you guys rudely interrupted us, we were discussing the style of the Rover's doors."

"Slide doors, obviously." you perked up at the topic.

"Thank you!" Wick exclaimed, turning towards Raven, "It's much more practical than having it open like normal doors."

"Of course she'd agree with you." Raven muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Duh," you smirked, "Great minds think alike."

"Damn straight." Wick agreed with a proud smirk that made Bellamy clench his jaw in annoyance.

He couldn't help but eye the arm that was basically wrapped around your shoulders. The Blake brother would never admit it out loud, due to his enormous ego, but he was always jealous of how close you and Wick were. The fact that Wick was a natural flirt and a very touchy person didn't help at all.

"You want to get together and work on it tonight?" he heard Wick ask you and watched you gave him a nod of agreement.

The dark haired boy cleared his throat, "Don't we have plans tonight, (Y/N)?"

You looked at his with furrowed eyebrows, "I don't think so, Bell. But don't wait up, I have the room key with me and I'll be careful not to wake you up."

Octavia, Raven, Gina and Miller had to fight the urge to laugh at the look on Bellamy's face. The four finally realized what you were doing and that there was obvious trouble in paradise.

"Yeah, you two have fun. Me and Gina have plans tonight so I won't be able to help." Raven spoke up with a fake apologetic look you almost snorted at.

"Don't worry about it, Reyes."

It was almost two in the morning once you finally returned to your and Bellamy's room.

You opened the door, only to find Bellamy sitting on the bed with his arms crossed over his chest and a serious expression on his face.

"Where the hell were you?" he asked, getting up as soon as you shut the door behind you.

"I already told I── "

"No, I mean why the hell are you back here at 2 a.m?" he demanded.

"We got held up, relax." you said shrugging off your jacket and putting it over a chair.

"Relax? You come back to our room at 2 a.m reeking of alcohol and you want me to relax?" he snapped, clenching his jaw.

Your eyes widened, "Can you stop yelling and being overdramatic? You're saying this like it's the first time."

"Well it's the first time you stayed that long after being alone with Kyle, so excuse me if I thought you weren't just working on the Rover." he clenched his jaw, pure anger radiating from him.

"What if we weren't?" you say after a few seconds of silence making his head snap up to look back at you, "What if we were doing something other then fixing the Rover? I'm not your girlfriend, you don't own me, Bellamy. I can do whatever the hell I want."

Bellamy gaped at you in disbelief, "So what? You actually slept with him?"

"No." you crossed your arms over your chest, "But I'm saying that if I wanted to I would have. Especially since you have no romantic feelings for me whatsoever. We're just fooling around, right?"

He blinked in shock as realization hit him, "You heard that."

You nodded, "Yeah, but it's fine. I'm stupid for thinking Bellamy Blake, the Casanova of the camp that slept with half the girls there, would want to be in a relationship. Not your fault."

"You really think that?" he asked, his voice coming out a lot softer then when you started the conversation, "That I only want to sleep with you and that I don't have feelings for you?"

"That's what you said, didn't you?"

"What if I didn't mean it?"

His question caught you off guard so you furrowed your eyebrows, "Bellamy that doesn't make── "

"I love you, (Y/N)." he cut you off making your eyes widen.

"You what?" you choked out.

"I love you." he repeated, "And you don't have to say it back but I do, I love you. I'm in love with you. What I told Monty and Miller was a complete and absolute lie. I had feelings for you ever since we came down and wanted to be with you ever since."

You didn't know what to say. You were waiting for him to say that for the longest time but now that he finally did you had no idea how to respond.

Noticing your silence, he let out a sad sigh, "And now I probably fucked everything up."

He cleared his throat, snapping you out of your daze, "I can ask Miller to bunk with him tonight, if you're not── "

"No, no." you cut him off "I── you have no idea how long I waited for you to say that."

Before he even had the chance to process your words you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. It took him a second to respond but when he did, you smiled into the kiss and felt his arms wrap around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him.

You pulled apart, panting for air when a huge grin broke on his face, "I guess this means you love me back."

"Yeah." you chuckled, "I love you, Bell."

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake imagine #the 100 #the 100 imagine #bellamy blake smut #the 100 smut #bellamy blake x reader #kyle wick #kyle wick imagine

779 notes · View notes

mourntheantagonist · 4 years ago

Text

#HarringroveApril Day 7: Daisychain

***

“Mr. Harrington? Who’s your favorite student?”

The question came about at least once every year without fail, and he’d always answer in the same, textbook way.

“I don’t have favorites. I love all my kids equally.”

And, deservedly so, the whole class would grunt and moan because they knew just as well as he did that it was a load of bullshit. Steve loved every one of his kids, that part wasn’t a lie, but… he also definitely had his favorites.

For the graduating class of ‘90 when he was only a teaching assistant his name was Daniel. He was the youngest in his class because he started early, and he was incredibly bright. He could count higher, he could read quicker, and his mind just worked in ways that no adult could possibly understand. But it wasn’t the textbook intelligence that made Steve fall for this kid. It was his emotional intelligence. He was funny and he was kind and five year olds were cruel, but he never let that get to him. He had an outlook on life that Steve was jealous of, so when the other kids would turn him down for a game of checkers, Steve would happily join him, because Steve saw it as his job to keep that kid kind.

For the class of ‘91 it was Christopher. He was nothing like Daniel. He was held back and was repeating kindergarten, and that was evident in the way he walked through life. He was quiet and would voluntarily remove himself from the rest of the class. He’d sit by himself and read a book and get frustrated when he didn’t understand one of the words, he would swing by himself and he always tried to sneak off with the first graders when it was time to line up. And Steve perfectly resonated with that feeling of watching all of your friends move on without you. He was left in the dust too. When all his classmates moved on to college or hightailed it out of Hawkins, Steve was left there by himself, working at Family Video with his only friend in the grade below him, and it took her leaving him as well for Steve to finally get his shit together, haul his ass west of the Mississippi, and enroll in a community college and work towards his teaching degree.

And he did it, against all odds and obstacles in his way, he did it. It took extra work and the support of his best friend who he followed, and he did it. He saw himself in Christopher, and he wasn’t going to make that kid wait as long as he did to realize that setbacks don’t define his future.

Steve usually took a liking to the quiet kids, and that only changed in ‘93 with the girl named Amy and the familiar last name. She was loud, vibrant, and everyone loved her. Her smile was contagious and she could be the sweetest little girl at times, but she also wore her heart on her sleeve. She cried quite a bit, just the littlest thing could set her off. A boy accidentally knocking over her blocks, not knowing how to spell a certain word, accidentally coloring outside the lines. She didn’t throw tantrums like he saw in the other kids. She would just bow her head and cry and it would break Steve’s heart every time.

But other than those few moments, she was bright and charismatic and with the last name, the blonde curly hair, and the big personality, Steve really should have put it all together much sooner than he did.

He didn’t put it all together until he saw Billy Hargrove in the soup aisle at the local grocery store wearing a chain of little daisies on his head like a crown, and he knew exactly where it was from.

It was from the little girl named Amy Hargrove who frolicked in the field instead of playing on the playground, collecting flowers that she meticulously made into bracelets and crowns and anything else she put her mind to. She gave them to friends, she even gave one to Steve, and of course she would give one to her dad too.

He looked so different, and yet exactly the same. He still had the damn mullet, just dragging the eighties with him as far as he could, he was a little more cleaned up but still had a similar style to what it was in highschool. Still with the same denim jacket, denim jeans, Canadian tuxedo type deal. In a side by side picture situation you wouldn’t really be able to tell the difference. It wasn’t his dress or his hair or anything physical about him that made him look so different, it was the way that he carried himself. It was the relaxation and the eyes that didn’t droop and the smile lines that didn’t used to be there that made him almost entirely unrecognizable from the Billy Hargrove who pushed freshman against lockers and drove his car too loud and too fast and had cigarettes for three meals a day. Not the kid who ran off to California as soon as the hospital released him with only his Camaro and a small suitcase and a large sum of money the government used to keep his mouth shut, leaving just a note for Max on the fridge that didn’t get any more specific than that about where he was going, not even leaving a phone number for her to contact him with. He also didn’t look like the kid they all pictured in their heads after basically the whole town found out about exactly what Neil Hargrove did to his son behind closed doors.

Steve wanted to go up to him in the store, but he stopped himself. Because Billy left. Without a trace or a word, and who was Steve to think that Billy having to be reminded of something he voluntarily abandoned without a second thought would have any sort of positive outcome?

So he turned down the aisle and kept his distance from the man in the flower crown because he was scared. He wasn’t scared that Billy would see him and turn back to his old ways and hurt him again, he was scared that he’d turn back to his old ways and hurt himself again.

Because he’d been hurt enough already.

Steve successfully avoided Billy until parent teacher conferences had rolled around, and instead of seeing Amy’s mom on the list of names he’d be seeing that day, it was Billy’s.

Steve would be lying if he didn’t think about calling in sick and sending his TA in his place. But he still had to be her teacher for another six months, he just had to get the interaction over with.

Many of the parents that came before Billy had to have known he was on edge about something considering he excessively tapped the table with the eraser of his pencil and stuttered his way through conversations. His organized folders and notes of talking points had been entirely thrown out the window and he was an absolute nervous wreck. And he could only anticipate it being ten times worse when the cause of said anxiety walked through his door with the long hair and the leather jacket. It was only with the help of the little girl in the sunflower dress and daisies in her hair skipping from the entrance to the chair in front of him that calmed his nerves just a bit.

But Billy had just stayed at the door, no movement, and any hope that Steve had that perhaps his new haircut and the glasses on his face would be enough to keep Billy from noticing the obvious vanished when Billy snapped his fingers like the lightbulb in his head finally flickered on.

“I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence.”

Steve just held out his hand to shake like he did with any other parent, unsure how to gage the situation because Billy’s words could go either way and his facial expressions didn’t give him anything to go off of. It would be weird to introduce himself, he didn’t know what to say.

“Hi, I’m Amy’s teacher. Should we start?”

Billy looked a little confused, but he sat down in the little kindergartener chairs anyway. This meeting was almost more organized than the ones prior, likely because he was trying to go as quickly as possible and get it over with. Steve showed Billy some of her artwork and commented on how her reading comprehension was great but she could work on her spelling a little more. He didn’t want to bring it up, but he brought up the crying and it hurt to see how him bringing it up set her off again. The same bowing of the head and quiet sniffles into her sleeve.

But Steve thinks he just fell in love a little watching Billy comfort her. With one hand rubbing circles into her back and the other holding her small hand. Steve feels like shit watching her cry because of him and is also semi-fearful for his life because he already knows he can’t take Billy in a fight.

“Baby, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with crying. It’s okay.”

“You’re dad’s right Amy. I think it’s very healthy. Crying is good for you.”

She looks up at Steve with those big blue eyes and tear stained cheeks when he says that.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah! I’d say it even makes you more mature. Even some adults I know don’t let themselves cry and it’s not good.”

“My daddy cries a lot too.”

Steve looks at Billy who’s eyes widen when she says it, then tries to laugh it off like she didn’t just say that.

“Hey Amy, you wanna go and play while your daddy and I talk for a minute?”

She just nods her head and wipes away her remaining tears and quickly hauls the bucket of Lincoln Logs off the shelf.

“So. It’s been a while. Hasn’t it?” Steve starts.

“Yeah it has. So, you’re a teacher now.”

“And you’re a father. That’s crazy.” Steve was fiddling with his hands, trying to make the conversation less awkward. “She’s wonderful by the way.”

“Yeah. She doesn’t get it from me.”

Steve just shakes his head. “No. I don’t think that’s true. She has your charisma, and it appears you found a better way of channeling your emotions since last we saw each other. She’s a lot like you.”

“Thanks.” Billy blushed. He actually blushed. “I don’t know if this is allowed considering you’re her teacher, but would you want to catch up sometime? Maybe dinner or something?”

There it was. That was the olive branch. And Steve would be an absolute fool not to take it.

“I’d love to.”

Before they could come up with a time or a place, Amy was running over to the table with loudly stomping feet.

“I almost forgot! Daddy! show Mr. Harrington what I brought him!”

Billy reached into his pocket upon her demand and pulled out a little bracelet made out of little daisies and honeysuckle and handed it over to Steve.

“Thank you Amy! It’s lovely.”

“Daddy show him yours!”

Steve looked to Billy’s wrist where he slowly lifted his sleeve to reveal an almost exact replica to the bracelet in his hand.

“Looks like we’re matching.”

#harringrove #stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #harringroveapril #this one will probably get a part 2 but who knows #it got too long and I ran out of time !!

164 notes · View notes

mrsmaybank · 4 years ago

Text

My Little Sun - Spencer Reid x Reader

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.”

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.”

PART ONE HERE

A/N: It came out fast!!! I had lowk already started it, so that’s why this update came so quickly. Please don’t expect them all to come this fast LMAO. I usually write slow as fuck. Anyway, I really hope you guys like this part so I can maybe just maybe turn this into a mini series. Please lmk if you guys like :)

CONTENT WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF SEX (lmk if i missed any please)

I paced the bullpen as the team spoke to Penelope. The shock of her pregnancy was starting to wear off, and now I could think more clearly. How could she? What was she thinking?

Recently, I’d found myself thinking about it more, a baby her and a mini-me. A family of my own, with the love of my life. It was exciting and like a lovesick fool it made my stomach fuzzy. But she wasn’t ready and I couldn’t do that to her. So how could she do it to herself? She hadn’t finished school, hadn’t started her career. She could barely take care of herself! I wasn’t mad, absolutely not. Just disappointed at her self-sabotage and the fact she’d made the decision completely without me. I couldn’t think about it for long though, because I was swiftly reminded by my surroundings that right now, there was a chance I’d lose her, our child and any children we wanted to have in the future. That was the priority.

“Garcia, check her credit card records, we need to see where she last was.” Hotch said.

“Uhm, okay,” Penelope took a deep breath while clicking away, “Let’s see. Her last purchase was last night, 6:49 at a CVS Pharmacy, oh--”

“What Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“She was um, picking up her monthly case of birth control.”

JJ broke the silence, “Spence…” she started towards me.

I breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank god.”

“Thank god?” Morgan questioned.

“She’s 23.” I wiped my face, “Whole life ahead of her.” The team understood what I was trying to say. Rossi’s hand fell on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“So why would she tell Brook she was?” Garcia asked.

“I uh, I..I don’t know.” I spat out. I really had no idea.

“Think Reid.” Rossi told me. “You guys ever talk about kids or pregnancy?”

“She might be trying to send us a message,” Emily added.

I thought back to the last time we discussed starting a family.

--FLASHBACK--

We were surrounded by timeless pieces of art and history, and yet the true masterpiece was still her. She was always beautiful to me, a perfect being, truly. But today, something about the way she looked today specifically, made her look like the kind of beauty you see in a painting. Had she been a painting, her creator must have been skilled. Each stroke of his brush creating every divine curve of her face and body to produce a work of magnificent art, one that I so proudly hung on the walls of my heart.

I remember exactly what she wore, and how it felt to take it all off. The painter had an eye for color. Her denim skirt, the length or lack thereof making me embarrassingly wary, was blue like the Mediterranean Sea, complementing the pigment of the skin of her legs. A white button down made of silk, not worn properly, of course. Too many buttons were left open at the top, as to draw attention to the gold adorned on her chest, but in the spell of temptation she procured to cast upon me, my eyes wandered to admire territories of her body they shouldn’t have. Not in public, at least. The buttons at the bottom were left untouched as well, revealing the soft skin of her stomach. She looked like an angel, but of course, went out of her way to instead be my temptress.

My affinity for her beauty aside, the wide eyes in delight at the museum artifacts and careful attention to my commentary were what made our excursion wonderful. The feeling of her smaller hand in mine, and the giggles and the teasing “You’re way too nerdy to be so stupid hot Dr. Reid.” made it absolutely perfect.

In exchange for her listening so attentively to my historical facts and stories, I took her for ice cream. She insisted we ate it on the greens of Lincoln Park. Who was I to deny her that? What came next--I expected. She’d devoured it. Made a mess of strawberry ice cream on her white shirt.

“It was the wind!” She insisted as the first of many drips of ice cream fell down her chin.

“No it was not!” I argued back while wiping it, “You just never learned how to eat ice cream properly.” I gently removed the cone from her hands and into mine, taking an overzealous bite. “This, lovey, is how you eat ice cream.”

“Give it back, you...you dickass!” She snorted. We laughed like two lovesick teenagers.

“Dickass?” I asked, eyes watery from laughter.

“Yeah dickass, give me back my damn ice cream.” I took another bite, “Stop! You’re eating it all!” She pouted. Pouts were unfortunately my weakness and I handed it back to her. However, in her rush, the pink scoop had fallen directly on her blouse.

“Way to prove my point,” I started to take off my cardigan, “You want dickass’s sweater?”

She wanted to be mad but couldn’t contain the wince of a smile. “Please.”

We carefully removed her shirt from under while simultaneously putting the cardigan in its place.

“Spence don’t let me flash! There’s kids and judgmental old ladies here!”

I laughed and shushed her, “I know, I know.” I moved all the fabrics quickly and it was done. Her sticky pink shirt was replaced with my soft sweater. “There.”

“My hero,” She kissed me, “Truly.”

She leaned back on our picnic blanket on her shoulders as we observed our fellow park goers. “So many kids.”

I nodded my head in agreement. “Yeah…”

“We should bring our kids here one day.” she said, instantly breaking my haze from the crowd so I could only see her.

I smiled again at the thought, “Yeah, and tell them how their mom is the world's clumsiest ice cream eater.”

She looked at me with disdain before shoving her shoulder into mine. “Shut up.”

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.”

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.”

I toppled her so we were laying down, facing each other. She kissed me hard, and my hands went to the sides of her face, only pulling back to say “I can’t wait for it, you know. My two little girls.”

She smiled, “But I’ll always be your favorite right?” she asked sarcastically.

I laughed, “Oh of course. Always.”

“I’ll have a big ol’ belly, you know.” I nodded, “You’d still be perfect.”

“We’d have to go to the mall, buy me a shitload of new clothes. Do ya know how dirty malls are Spence?” I winced at the thought of thousands of strangers bacteria on every surface and she laughed, “Got ya.” I shook my head, “Nope! I uh, I’ll just bring hand sanitizers and uh, to the Maternity section we’ll go.”

“Non-stop Panda express eating.” I nodded again, “I’ll be non-stop Panda Express buying, then.” She smiled so hard her nose scrunched.

“I love you Spencer.”

“I love you too. I am so in love with you.”

--FLASHBACK ENDS--

“Yeah but it was trivial.” I said.

“Maybe not,” Hotch argued, “Was anything mentioned specifically?”

“A name she liked?” Prentiss added, “Maybe a craving she thought she might have? Anything at all?”

I nodded, “Not a food, but a fast food place. Panda Express.” I doubted that would be helpful.

“It’s a stretch but, Garcia, check for any dilapidated buildings within 10 miles of a Panda Express.”

“Yes sir,” She typed away and then said, “No, guys. I’m sorry. All of our Panda Express’s are in pristine malls or new developments.”

“Mall!” I shouted, “She said we’d have to go to the mall! She knows I hate the mall.”

Morgan pointed at us, “The tiles in that room look like they could be from some 80’s Bloomingdales.”

“Garcia-” I said.

“Already on it.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pregnancy ruse was either going to get me killed, or save my life. It was a moment of panic and I just wanted to throw her off. I know it did, but in what direction?

She was still crying, her demeanor with me was still laced with bitter animosity, but she was calmer now.

“How long have you known?” Brook asked, the contents of her flask now empty and her words slurred.

“I found out yesterday.” I lied through my teeth.

She shrugged her shoulders, “Had you guys talked about it?”

“Vaguely.” I admitted.

“What’d Spencer want? Boy or girl?” I debated on whether or not to say, and she caught on. “Don’t fucking lie.” She stated harshly.

“Girl.” I breathed out. “He wants a girl.”

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I don’t care.” I said. That was true.

“How come?”

“I just want to start a family with him. Don’t really care about the gender…” That was true as well.

“Oh.” she nodded her head, “Why’d he want a girl?” It was strange, her genuine curiosity. It freaked me out, but my alternative was being stabbed. I chose to just answer her questions, regardless of how much I really did not want to.

“He liked the idea of a little girl who looked like me.”

She winced, eyes tearing up further. “Right.” I was beginning to realize her feelings were very real.

“You really like him, don’t you?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t help it. My head was still looking for an answer as to how she could be driven to do something like this.

She clasped her hands together, her anger returning. “Don’t fucking start. You know nothing of what I feel for Spencer.” She came up closer and tugged at my hair, “Fucking nothing.”

“Okay,” I grimaced at the pain from the force at which she pulled my hair, “I-I’m sorry.”

She let go, “You should be. You really, really fucking should be.” She sat back down, pensive for a while. I wish I knew what she was thinking about.

My heart had not stopped it’s fast pace ridden with anxiety since I gained full awareness of my situation, but now, it felt like it was going to burst through my chest. Was she planning on just killing me now?

My anticipation ceased when she got up and brought back the camera with her again. “Hello BAU. There has been a change in plans. Your beloved,” The words reeked of sarcasm, “Y/N here, will be returned eventually. . She’s gonna be fine. However, it is now in everybody best interest if this video feed was cut out. Sorry.” She said before mouthing, “No I’m not.” She shut the camera off.

She turned to me, “I hate you. Fucking despise you.” Figures.

“But I would never hurt Spencer. Or his child. Even if it is being carried by a whore like you.”

She began to pace once more, “You’re obviously a mistake on his part. You clearly tricked him with sex and...no just sex I think. You're not really smart enough to be capable of anything else. Regardless, he’s probably already thinking about abortions or adoption. There’s no way in hell a man like him could ever want to start a family with a girl like you.” She shook her head, “Absolutely not.”

I could only nod my head at her delusions. This woman was so far up her ass.

She pinched my cheeks together with her cold hands, “You tried to trap him. How’d that go for you?”

I was silent.

“I asked you a fucking question!” She held my face impossibly tighter.

“Poorly.” I got out, “Poorly.”

“In 9 months, I’ll help you deliver your baby. And then, you can go.” Brook backed away and let go of her tight grip on my face. “I’m keeping the kid. Raising it.” She smiled, “I’ll be the mother Spencer’s child will deserve. And then-” A giggle creepily reminiscent of a schoolgirl’s left her throat, “He’ll love me!”

Brooks intention had twisted from wanting to murder and torture me as revenge for “taking” Spencer, to a now twisted maternal desire for his (hypothetical) child. But if Spencer and his team couldn’t find me before the time I was supposed to be showing, I was fucked. Utterly fucked.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Taglist: @britishspidey

(Let me know to be added)

226 notes · View notes