#I started this forever ago and only now remembered it sorry it ain’t that good

[ajxtweety]

The sarcophagus

[blackcatrph]

** sour  sentence  starters.

brutal.

“  i think that i’ll die before i drink.  ”

“  i'm so caught up in the news of who likes me and who hates you.  ”

“  i'm so tired that I might quit my job, start a new life.  ”

“  they'd all be so disappointed  because who am I if not exploited?  ”

“  where's my fuckin' teenage dream?  ”

“  if someone tells me one more time "enjoy your youth," I'm gonna cry.  ”

“  i'm anxious and nothing can help.  ”

“  i wish I'd done this before.  ”

“  i wish people liked me more.  ”

“  all I did was try my best.  ”

“  this the kind of thanks I get?  ”

“  they say these are the golden years.  ”

“  i wish I could disappear.  ”

“  god, it's brutal out here.  ”

“  i feel like no one wants me.  ”

“  i only have two real friends.  ”

“  lately I'm a nervous wreck.  ”

“  i love people I don't like.  ”

“  i hate every song I write.  ”

“  i'm not cool, and I'm not smart.  ”

“  i can't even parallel park.  ”

“  got a broken ego, broken heart.  ”

“  i don't even know where to start.  ”

traitor.

“  brown guilty eyes and little white lies.  ”

“  i played dumb but I always knew.  ”

“  i kept quiet so I could keep you.  ”

“  ain't it funny how you ran to her the second that we called it quits?  ”

“  ain't it funny how you said you were friends?  ”

“  it sure as hell don't look like it.  ”

“  you betrayed me.  ”

“  i know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt.  ”

“  loved you at your worst but that didn't matter.  ”

“  guess you didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor.  ”

“  there's no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly.  ”

“  ain't it funny, all the twisted games, all the questions you used to avoid?  ”

“  remember I brought her up and you told me I was paranoid?  ”

“  i wish that you had thought this through before I went and fell in love with you.  ”

“  you gave me your word but that didn't matter.  ”

drivers  license. 

“  i got my driver's license last week.  ”

“  just like we always talked about.  ”

“  today I drove through the suburbs crying 'cause you weren't around.  ”

“  you're probably with that blonde girl.  ”

“  she's so much older than me.  ” 

“  she's everything I'm insecure about.  ”

“  how could I ever love someone else?   “

“  i know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one.  ”

“  i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.  ”

“  guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me.  ”

“  all my friends are tired of hearing how much I miss you.  ”

“  I kinda feel sorry for them because they'll never know you the way that I do.  ”

“  i still see your face in the white cars, front yards.  ”

“  can't drive past the places we used to go to because I still fuckin' love you.  ”

1  step  forward,  3  steps  back.

“  i called you on the phone today.  ”

“  all I did was speak normally.  ”

“  you got me fucked up in the head.  ”

“  like am I pretty? am I fun?  ”

“  i hate that I gave you power over that kind of stuff.  ”

“  it's always one step forward and three steps back.  ”

“  i'm the love of your life until I make you mad.  ”

“  do you love me, want me, hate me? i don't understand.  ”

“  maybe in some masochistic way I kind of find it all exciting.  ”

“  which lover will I get today?  ”

“  will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?  ”

“  it's back and forth, did I say somethin' wrong?  ”

“  it's back and forth, goin' over everything I said.  ”

“  i'd leave you, but the roller coaster's all I've ever had.  ”

deja vu.

“  strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two?  ”

“  i bet she's braggin' to all her friends, sayin' you're so unique.  ”

“  so when you gonna tell her that we did that, too?  ”

“  that was our place, I found it first.  ”

“  i made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you.  ”

“  do you get déjà vu when she's with you?  ”

“  do you call her, almost say my name?  ”

“  i hate to think that I was just your type.  ”

“  don't act like we didn't do that shit too.  ”

“  play her piano, but she doesn't know that I was the one who taught you Billy Joel.  ”

good  4  u.

“  well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily.  ”

“  you found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks.  ”

“  remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?  ”

“  good for you, I guess that you've been workin' on yourself.  ” 

“  i guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped.  ”

“  now you can be a better man for your brand new girl.  ”

“  well, good for you, you look happy and healthy.  ”

“  not me, if you ever cared to ask.  ”

“  good for you, you're doin' great out there without me.  ”

“  i've lost my mind.  ”

“  i've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom.  ”

“  it's like we never even happened.  ”

“  what the fuck is up with that?  ”

“  good for you, it's like you never even met me.  ”

“  remember when you swore to god i was the only person who ever got you?  ”

“  well, screw that and screw you.  ”

“  you will never have to hurt the way you know that I do.  ”

“  maybe I'm too emotional.  ”

“  your apathy's like a wound in salt.  ”

“  maybe I'm too emotional  or maybe you never cared at all.  ”

“  like a damn sociopath.  ”

enough  for  you.

“  i wore makeup when we dated because I thought you'd like me more.  ”

“  i know that you loved before.  ”

“  tried so hard to be everything that you like.  ”

“  i read all of your self-help books so you'd think that I was smart.  ”

“  stupid, emotional, obsessive little me.  ”

“  i knew from the start this is exactly how you'd leave.  ”

“  you found someonе more exciting.  ”

“  you left me there cryin', wonderin' what I did wrong.  ”

“  you always say I'm never satisfied but I don't think that's true.  ”

“  all I ever wanted was to be enough for you.  ”

“  maybe I'm just not as interesting as the girls you had before.  ”

“  you couldn't have cared less about someone who loved you more.  ”

“  i'd say you broke my heart but you broke much more than that.  ”

“  i don’t want your sympathy, i just want myself back.  ”

“  don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded?  ”

“  don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?  ”

“  don’t tell me you’re sorry, feel sorry for yourself.  ”

“  someday i’ll be everything to somebody else.  ”

“  you’ll be the one crying.  ”

happier.

“  we broke up a month ago. ”

“  your friends are mine you know.  ”

“  you’ve moved on, found someone new.  ”

“  i thought my heart was detached from all the sunlight of our past.  ”

“  she’s so sweet, she’s so pretty.  ”

“  does she mean you forgot about me ?  ”

“  i hope you’re happy but not like how you were with me.  ”

“  i’m selfish i know. i can’t let you go.  ”

“  find someone great, but don’t find no one better.  ”

“  i hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier.  ”

 “  do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?  ”

“  an eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean.  ”

“  remember when i believe you meant it when you said it first to me?  ”

“  now i’m picking her apart like cutting her down will make you miss my wretched heart.  ”

“  she’s beautiful, she looks kind.  ”

“  she probably gives you butterflies.  ”

“  i wish you all the best, really.  ”

“  say you love her, just not like you loved me.  ”

���  think of me fondly when your hands are on her.  ”

jealousy  jealousy.

“  i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room.  ”

“  all i see are girls too good to be true.  ”

“  i know their beauty’s not my lack but it feels like that weight is on my back.  ”

“  comparison is killing me slowly.  ”

“  i think i think too much.  ”

“  i’m so sick of myself, i’d rather be anyone else.  ”

“  my jealousy started following me.  ”

“  i see everyone getting all the things i want.  ”

“  i’m happy for them, but then again, i’m not.  ”

“  i can’t stand it.  ” 

“  oh god i sound crazy.  ”

“  their win is not my loss, i know it’s true.  ”

“  i can’t help getting caught up in it all.  ”

“  all your friends are so cool.  ”

“  you go out every night.  ”

“  you’re living the life.  ”

“  i want to be you so bad, and i don’t even know you.  ”

“  all i see is what i should be.  ”

favourite  crime.

“  know that i love you so bad.  ”

“  i let you treat me like that.  ”

“  i was your willing accomplice.  ”

“  i watched as you fled the scene.  ”

“  doe-eyed as you buried me.  ”

“  the things i did just so i could call you mine.  ”

“  the things you did. well, i hope i was your favourite crime.  ”

“  you used me as an alibi.  ”

“  i crossed my heart and you crossed the line.  ”

“  i defended you to all my friends.  ”

“  every time i siren sounds, i wonder if you’re around.  ”

“  you know that i’d do it all again.  ”

“  it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do.  ”

“  i was going down but i was doing it with you.  ”

“  i say that i hate you with a smile on my face.  ”

“  look what we became.  ” 

hope  ur  ok.

“  his parents cared more about the bible than being good to their own child.  ”

“  wore long sleeves because of his dad.  ”

“  somehow we fell out of touch.  ”

“  hope he took his bad deal and made a royal flush.  ”

“  don’t know if i’ll see you again someday.  ”

“  i hope that you’re okay.  ”

“  her parents hated who she loved.  ”

“  she was brought into a world where family was merely blood.  ” 

“  with the courage to unlearn all of their hatred.  ”

“  we don’t talk much.  ”

“  i miss you and i hope that you’re okay.  ”

“  address the letter to the holes in my butterfly wings.  ”

“  nothing’s forever, nothing is as good as it seems.  ”

“  when the clouds are ironed our and the monsters creep into your house, every door is hard to close.  ”

“  i hope you know how proud i am.  ”

“  i hope that you’re happier today.  ”

“  i love you and i hope that you’re okay.  ”  

[wildxwired]

hi there :) i was wondering if you could write something post-canon about someone hitting on ian (or some sort sexual of proposition toward him) and it brings up feelings that mickey’s never dealt with about ian’s bipolar episode (mostly the cheating 💔) - i’d love to see them talking through it as a married couple with healthier ways of communicating & working through stuff as permanent partners 💛💛

Okay so I started writing this and then it went a different way of Ian dealing with those feelings and Mickey being way more understanding of Ian’s illness than I feel people (cough, the writers) ever gave him credit for. Hope this is equally as pleasing!

Carry Me Home

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Ian glances up from his menu to find a handsome face he vaguely recognises staring down at him. He tilts his head and stares for a moment, trying to place the brown eyes and high cheekbones, but he’s struggling.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” He asks politely. He’s usually pretty good with faces, only ever drawing a blank when it comes to…

“I used to work at Patsy’s, with your sister. It’s Ian, right?” Ian nods and swallows, glancing nervously at the door to the men’s room where his husband had disappeared just seconds ago.

“Uhm, yeah. Yeah. Sorry, I can’t really remember your name.”

The name he doesn’t remember, but the face has come screeching back into his memory in horrifying HD detail. His breath feels thick in his throat, hands suddenly very clammy to the point where the menu falls through his fingers.

The man chuckles softly. “We never really did names, did we?”

Ian wants to be sick. Fuck. He wants to run. It’s not the guy’s fault. He never did anything wrong, he was just looking for the same thing Ian was, at the time. But now Ian feels panicked like the wound is fresh, like the mania is waiting, creeping along with the recognition of this guy’s face.

“Uhm…”

The guy chuckles softly, and Ian knows he probably doesn’t mean to sound mocking but he feels it, there’s something laying in the shadow of his mind telling him he’s being made fun of. The joke’s on him.

“Don’t worry about it. I saw you here alone and wondered…” he trails, something sparking in his eyes, dark eyebrows quirking in suggestion. “Since you’re here alone, I was wondering-”

“He ain’t alone.”

Ian’s whole body flinches like the words burn, like he’s just been caught out. The sickness rolls in his stomach, and as the guy turns to reveal Mickey glaring back at him.

“Oh!” He straightens nervously, hands fumbling together as he steps aside to let Mickey back to his seat. “My mistake. What can I get you gentlemen?”

Mickey leans back in his chair, scowl still firmly in place. He hasn’t looked at Ian once yet, and Ian just wants to leave, just wants to run in the cold until each breath burns.

“Yeah, a new fucking waiter for a start.”

He blinks and steps back, “Of course. My apologies. Yeah, I’ll just…” and then he’s gone, scuttling back off towards the kitchen. Ian stares after him, watching the silver door flap and settle long after the guy has disappeared. He doesn’t want to look back at Mickey, doesn’t want to see the sadness and disappointment at being brutally reminded of a time they’d both rather forget.

Fuck. He knows he can’t avoid it forever, so with one final gulp he turns back to his husband. Mickey’s still studying the menu, and Ian can’t tell whether or not he’s purposely avoiding his gaze.

“Mick,” he starts meekly, but when Mickey’s eyes shoot to his he immediately falls silent again. He can’t read Mickey’s expression and it’s killing him.

“Don’t look so fucking panicked, Gallagher. You look like you’re turning coal into diamonds over there.”

Ian huffs, the breaths all rushing out with relief and now he feels like he might cry instead of throwing up. Mickey looks him over again before sighing softly and lowering his menu. He reaches his hand out across the table and Ian watches, momentarily confused, before he accepts the offering and gladly presses their hands together.

“I’m so sorry,” Ian whispers, because he can’t think of anything else he wants to say right now. Mickey squeezes his hand tight.

“Ey, none of that shit, okay? Different time, man, different circumstances. Not your fault.”

“No, but—”

“Not. Your. Fault.” Mickey squeezes his hand again.

Ian takes a breath, squeezes back. “I know, but I’m still sorry.”

Mickey places another hand on top of Ian’s, trapping his hand between both of his. “I already know that, dumbass.”

Ian knows his eyes are starting to brim, and his throat is stinging from the effort it’s taking to hold the tears back because he knows if he starts he’s going for the full sob. He coughs and swallows twice in an attempt to keep himself together.

Mickey watches him with soft concern before standing and pulling Ian up with their still linked hands. “Come on, let’s go home and order in. Fuck this place. I’d rather have dinner somewhere I can eat in my underwear, anyway.”

Ian laughs, a few hot tears managing to spill over his lids. “I love you.”

Mickey smiles warmly and once again traps Ian’s hand between both of his own. “I know. ‘Love you too.”

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[magickastiel]

✨ B&B’S CHRISTMAS ADVENT CALENDAR ✨

15th December - reminiscing & winter blues

I am, once again, attempting to write one story through different prompts. I really enjoyed it last time so let’s see if I can do it through December!

check out the other days | now on ao3

Summary: Just a month after defeating Chuck, Sam & Dean are faced with their first real Christmas. Eileen, Jody, Donna, Claire & Kaia descend on the Bunker for a Christmas celebration like no other. But for Dean, Castiel’s confession still weighs heavy. It might be easier to deal with if Cas was actually around to talk to but he and Jack are busy in Heaven. Surely they don’t have time to come home for Christmas…do they?

����

Once Dean’s safety tucked away in the kitchen, he finally lets out a long breath. The embarrassment and the shame hits him so hard he almost bends double.

He shouldn’t have cut Cas off like that. Cas deserves to be heard. Even if it makes Dean uncomfortable. Even if it makes him -

There’s no point thinking about it now.

Dean learned that from the ‘positive living’ videos Sam sent him and he most definitely hasn’t watched thank you. Recognise your mistakes, learn what to do differently and let it go.

He’s not good yet but he’s trying. And that’s more than he thought he would be doing a month ago.

So he picks himself up and starts sorting his seasonings for the tart filling. He’s only alone for ten minutes or so when Donna wanders into the kitchen, sighing.

“Oh, hey Dean. Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb ya.” But she lingers anyway, sighing again.

Dean’s jaw clenches.

“You ok, Donna?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, sure.” Another sigh and Dean fights the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s just…I get a little mopey ‘round this time of year I guess, ya know?”

She leans against the counter right next to him as he’s trying to mix his sweet potato, spinach and feta concoction.

“I guess I…” He’s surprised when Donna’s voice breaks a little, usually so light and happy. He wipes his hands and faces her, seeing the first hint of tears filling her brown eyes. “Makes me think of all the Christmases gone by. Real good ones. And some bad ones. It was always so exciting when I was a kid. But as I’ve gotten older…just seems a bit empty sometimes. Lonely.”

Dean nods. He still feels a little raw from Cas’ unfiltered praise earlier so he starts to speak.

“Christmas ain’t something that usually affects me. Not like it’s been a family tradition through the years.” One year, achingly cold and lonely, sticks most in his mind. “When I was 24, I had the worst damn Christmas of my life.”

Donna stands a little straighter, face soft and sympathetic. “What happened?”

“Sam had gone to Stanford, gone forever maybe, as far as I knew. And Dad was in the wind, hunting Azazel.” It’s strange now, to think of those days. How oddly simple it was when all they were looking for was one demon. “Man, he hunted him so desperately it was like mom had only died a week ago. I think losing Sam pushed him further into it. Made him angrier.”

“So you were all on your lonesome?”

“Yeah.” Dean swallows around the lump in his throat. “Hustled pool on Christmas Eve, got enough money for a crappy motel room with no heat and two pizzas. One for that night and one for Christmas dinner.” He wants to laugh but he can’t. “Woke up Christmas Day with a killer hangover and spent an hour being sick. Then I went for a walk.”

He snorts. “Got lost in the woods. Twisted my ankle. Went round and round til it went dark. Ended up sleeping alone under a tree. North-east coast, freezing weather. Got so cold I thought my toes’d snap off.” He shakes his head. “Stupid kid.”

“What was it like?”

The constant scream of pain in his ankle kept him awake for hours. The cold bit at his face. The darkness pressed on his eyes. “Shitty. Just remember thinking I should be trying to get back to the motel and warm up. But I just…couldn’t do it. Just sat there and…and cried. Thought there was no point trying to get back ‘cause there was no one waiting for me anyway.”

“Oh, boy.” Donna steps close. “Ya know I gotta hug ya now, don’t cha?”

He smiles and leans into it, Donna’s warmth easing away the icy cold memory.

“Too young to be so sad. Same age as Claire.”

“Yeah.” Dean isn’t sure why that shakes him but he feels unsteady. “Same age as Claire.”

Dean knows sometimes he’s too quick to dismiss the stuff he’s been through - Sam lectures him about it often enough. And even when he does try and address it, it’s always ‘the big stuff’; apocalypses, friends dying, torture, Hell. Sometimes he wonders how much of the stuff he skims over should really be pulled out and examined. Wonders how much his childhood really messed him up.

Because thinking about Claire, injured and lost alone in a dark wood on Christmas Day makes him want to scream.

He feels his bottom lip wobble and Donna’s hands are immediately on his arms.

“Hey, now. You ain’t ever gotta feel like that again. You got all of us! Whether you want us or not, we’re gonna be here, cluttering up your Bunker and driving ya nuts!”

He laughs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah. I’ll take annoying family any day.”

“Exactly!” She grins at him, looking fond. “Me too. You know, I was gonna tell ya about my lonely Christmases after I got divorced but you kinda got me beat.”

“Oh, shit.” Dean curses, realising he kind of went off on one. “Sorry, Donna, I didn’t mean to - ”

“Nah, it’s fine!” She waves a hand, looking much happier. “To be honest, I think that mighta helped. I might not have a hot cowboy husband or a little baby - not even sure if that is what I want - but I still got my own weird little family. And that’s pretty damn good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s pretty great actually.”

“We’ll work it out. Maybe I should try that whole ‘eat better’ and ‘take vitamin D’ thing. But honestly, I can’t see how eating less donuts is gonna make me any happier.”

Dean grins at that, suddenly feeling better about that little stomach he’s gained since they defeated Chuck.

“Hmm.” Donna pauses and then thwacks the side of his arm, grinning. “Speaking of vitamin D.” She giggles and wiggles her eyebrows. “What about that Castiel? Phew, what a dreamboat, am I right?”

“Oh, er…” Dean turns back to his mixture to cover the panic he knows must be all over his face. “I, uh, wouldn’t know. We’re just friends - ”

“That voice?” Donna swoons, her face transformed into delight. “Ooh, boy. He’s a knee-trembler alright!”

Dean screws his eyes up and suddenly wishes they were talking about his miserable Christmas again. Please anything but this, let him think about anything other than -

“He might not be a cowboy but I’ll take an angel any day!” She giggles again. “Wowzer. There’s something about him, ya know? He’s got this…dry way of speaking that’s so attractive, I think. Like a real Mr Darcy!”

I’m not Elizabeth Bennet. I’m not Elizabeth Bennet.

“So what’s his deal?” Donna’s voice lowers to a stage-whisper. “Is he into humans? Female humans? Is he into anything?”

“Uh, uh…” Dean has no idea how to answer. “He, uh…I know he slept with a female reaper once.”

“Ooh, that’s hopeful! They look like humans, right?” Donna straightens up, looking cheery. “That’s exciting! Maybe I’ll wear the v-neck sweater tomorrow, huh? Show a bit more skin. You never know, I could have a hot angel husband by next Christmas!”

Dean is spared the pain of grunting out a reply.

“I doubt it.”

Eileen appears in the doorway, eyeing them both with a dangerous smile.

“Ooh, no, really?” Donna looks disappointed. “Am I not his type, do ya think?”

“It’s not that.” Eileen wanders closer, her gaze flicking to Dean. His stomach drops as she smirks. “It’s just that he’s already in love.”

Dean goes hot and cold all over and he glares hard at Eileen, feeling betrayed.

“Really?” Donna sounds excited again, quickly getting over her heartbreak. “Who? Some fancy angel, I bet.”

“Not quite.” Eileen looks at Dean deliberately and nods her head towards him.

“I absolutely hate you!” He hisses but there’s no heat behind it. He’s pretty sure Eileen could stab him and he’d forgive her.

She cackles.

“Noooo!” Donna turns on him, eyes wide. “Here I was a-swooning and a-crooning over him and he’s your handsome angel all this time!”

“No, Donna, no. He’s not my handsome angel, he’s…” He flounders, face hot. “He’s his own handsome angel, ok! Just a normal angel! He’s…we’re friends, ok! He just happens to be…also in love with me. Apparently. So he says. But only once. And that was before he died. And now he’s back and we haven’t talked about it so…”

“Dean.” Donna looks at him almost sternly. “If you don’t get him, I will. I got a low cut Christmas sweater and I ain’t afraid to use it.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Eileen says and they both high-five.

“You - you traitor!” He glares at Eileen, almost picking up the filling-covered wooden spoon to wave at her. “You promised you wouldn’t tell! You pinky promised!”

“No.” She shakes her head, looking smug. “I only pinky promised I wouldn’t tell Sam.”

“You promised you wouldn’t tell Sam what?”

He wheels around to see Sam at the door, frowning.

Dean’s stomach drops to his feet.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Dog person - Harry Hook x reader - Oneshot

=

Harry wasn’t a dog person, he was more a cat person, cats were clean, kept to themselves, hunted for their own food, and didn’t roll in mud at the first chance they got.

Gil had insisted that since Harry had never met a dog how could he say he didn’t like them? Harry knew he liked cats, so why would he like dogs?

Well, now Harry was in Auradon, where dogs were and…

Well…Harry ain’t a dog person but wow that person walking their dog was really cute and holy shit the dog looked at him what was he-oh shit. Harry took a sudden step back as the large grey and white Pitbull pulled their very cute owner towards Harry with a loud bark, their owner yelping as the leash was wrapped around their wrist and easily pulled them into Harry's chest, the Pitbull trotting around the two to wrap their legs together.

“Cerb!” the owner yelped, Harry's chest fluttering as they ripped off their beanie and pouted down at the smiling Pitbull “dude come on! Why you gotta embarrass me like this?!” the Pitbull, Cerb Harry assumed from their very pretty owner scolding them. The owner looked at him, Harry's brain freezing as they locked their sparking (e/c) eyes onto his. “I’m so sorry about this, he-he never acts up like this” Harry struggled to find the words as the owner forced Cerb to walk around them to undo the leash.

“it-it’s okay” Harry stumbled, feeling his ears turn red as the owner looked back at him, stepping away from him a little bit as the leash around their legs loosened. “um-he-you, didn’t mind-shit” Harry, the notorious flirt of the isle, was getting word jumbled over a person he had only seen a minute ago. He felt heat spread to his cheeks as the owner smiled at him and held out their hand.

“I’m (y/n), again sorry about the behavior of this little asshole, but his name is Cerb” Harry took their hand and shook it telling them his name as he looked down at Cerb, laughing slightly as Cerb jumped up to Harry and pushed at Harry's arm, as if demanding Harry to pet him. “Sorry about that, he’s actually never like this around guys” (y/n) sighed, going to pull Cerb off of Harry but Harry shook his head, rubbing his palm into the side of Cerb’s head and decided then and there that dogs, especially ones that looked like this and had very pretty owners attached to their leash, were very cute.

“Why isn’t he like this” Harry guested to Cerb eagerly pushing his muzzle and face into Harry's hand “around guys…other than meh apparently” (y/n) gave a sad smile and shrug.

“Bad family before I rescued him, probably abused, mainly by males, he’s good with all females and kids, just dudes freak him out” Harry let out a small noise of pain, taking his other hand and rubbing Cerb’s face a bit more.

“he’s a good dog” Harry hummed, yelping as Cerb jumped up at him and got a good lick at his chin and nose “ah!” (y/n) laughed and grabbed Cerb’s leash and collar, pulling the dog off of Harry, cooing at him as Cerb started to whine at the separation, “I think he likes meh”

“I think he does too” you laughed, stepping on either side of Cerb to trap him and prevent him from bulldozing Harry. “I’m sorry but, you can’t have him pet you forever!” Harry laughed at that, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels slightly, watching you intently as you made sure Cerb’s leash and collar were good before looking back up at Harry with a blinding smile that sent butterflies swarming around his gut. “thank you for being nice to him, and sorry again for him getting us tangled up” Harry shrugged it off with a wave.

“it’s no problem, if it wasn’t fer tha’ we wouldn’t have met” Harry slapped his hand over his mouth at that, his entire face burning as (y/n) stared at him with a small smile. Did he really just say that?!

“a flirt, aren’t you?” (y/n) chuckled, fixing their beanie back over their head and biting their lip “you being for real, or is that just you?”

“I-“ Harry couldn’t get the words out, just continuing to stare red-faced at (y/n). (y/n) looked down at Cerb, then glanced at Harry, as if asking the dog ‘well, what do we think?’ Cerb pushed at (y/n)s leg towards Harry, (y/n) easily getting his message.

(y/n) looked back at Harry with a grin, to which Harry let out a small squeak that he mentally smacked himself over. (y/n) took out a pen from their jacket pocket and grabbed Harry's hand, writing their number on the back of his hand and winking at him “you’re cute, and my dog likes you, call me. okay?” Harry rapidly nodded, holding his hand close to his chest as if it was treasure as (y/n) waved goodbye to him and lead Cerb back to their dorm.

“fuck” Harry muttered, looking down at his hand and biting his lip.

Well…he definitely was a dog person now.

Now he owed Gil fifty bucks.

-end-

Lowkey inspired by that one commission 5 parter I did…last year (it’s called love at first sight :3)  but Im staying up with my cousin until she gets picked up by her friend to get out of her house and this helped me not crash heh.

 permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @thecaptainsgingersnap

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 @rintheemolion @remembered-license 

@random-thoughts-003​  @imtryingthisout​ 

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Under a Windmill

It’s been eight hours since he started driving with that old wooden box riding shotgun; but this time, the driver didn’t get to pick the soundtrack for this trip. It has been silence the whole way, only broken by Dean’s sporadic cries and the crashing of his fist against the steering wheel.

At times, his mind would drift and he’d forget that what had happened, happened—and he’d allow himself to feel Cas’s presence again, as if the angel were still wholly next to him, filling up the passenger seat, filling out that damn, ugly trench coat instead of filling up that old wooden box.

Another scream—another punch to Baby’s dash.

He chokes the pain back down and rubs his palm over the inside of the car.

“Sorry, old girl” he mumbles. “It ain’t your fault.”

It’s mine.

He screams again; but the silence doesn’t argue with him, and that old wooden box doesn’t either.

And that’s the cold reality, the harsh truth—the permanence in all of this. If Cas could come back, he would have by now, and he’d be here, convincing Dean how wrong he is to blame himself. He’d be telling Dean that he’s an idiot for thinking of himself as anything less than perfect, and Dean would argue with him, telling that idiot-angel that being an idiot would automatically disqualify him from “perfection”. And soon, he’d be laughing, because the debate would be so stupid, so pointless, he’d forget to be angry anymore, and then he’d clap Cas on the shoulder—smile at him, and tell him for the millionth time, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Dean reaches over, brushes his fingers over the top of that old wooden box, and closes his eyes a moment.

“I’m glad you were here, Cas.”

He knew the place, the perfect place to leave him. It came to Dean after the first few hours on the road. Earlier, Sam had offered to take Cas’s ashes to the lake a few miles from the bunker, but Dean refused. Even though the lake was beautiful, it seemed like the “convenient” choice, and not the right one. So, he took that old wooden box, the one that he used to hold all of his pictures—pictures of his life in the short time it could’ve been called “normal” … a life he can only remember through pictures now, and he gathered Castiel’s ashes in his palms and placed them inside its pined walls. On his knees, hands together, ashes to ashes, dust to dust … lives remembered, lives lost, all collected in that old wooden box. It seemed fitting—and so very wrong; and then he set out to find the right place to keep all the wrongness he felt. He needed someplace beautiful, peaceful, calm and pure. A place that people would only go to if they wanted to—if they sought it out ... a choice. Nothing seemed to represent Castiel more than the beauty of choice; so, after a long night of driving, Dean finally set course towards a place that he thinks Castiel would choose to go to—if he could, if he were still alive and able to choose anything anymore …

Dean screams again, headlights from the on-coming cars catching the tears in his eyes, making them shine.

The sun is just coming up as he makes his way down the hill, and it’s as pretty as he remembers it being, even though it’s been several years since he’d last been here. He and Sam were on a case—a cut and dry witch’s curse, but the hunt had brought them to this meadow in search of a flower they needed for a spell. They found it pretty quickly. The flower grows all over this area in the spring; but Dean decided to stick around a few minutes anyway, just to walk, breathe in the sweet smell of the new grass, feel the warm breeze on his skin. It's calm here, beautiful. The kind of land he’d love to build a house on and live out the rest of his days—if he could ever be so lucky. It's a perfect slice of Heaven on earth, and Dean remembers walking through this meadow all those years ago and thinking, “I wish Cas was here.”

He’s not even sure why he thought it at the time. He hadn’t known the angel long at that point, but maybe it was because he could tell, even way back then, there was something special about Castiel. There was something fun and unique, powerful and strange, something Dean knew he had to hold onto.

If he had just held on ...

Afterwards, he often dreamt of this meadow; and sometimes—in his dreams, Cas was there with him. They would walk through the trees and talk. They would laugh … Castiel, angel of the lord would actually laugh, and it would make Dean laugh too. They would never mention monsters or the world ending. They’d just talk about good, simple things, and they’d walk and admire the beauty of this place, and they’d be happy … and then Dean would wake up.

That old wooden box feels heavy in his hands now as he makes his way through the trees. He isn’t talking, he isn’t smiling … and he isn’t waking up.

A small clearing spreads out in front of him just as the morning sun starts to swallow up the trees. A thin brook babbles along the far edge beneath the heavy bough of an oak, and an old windmill creaks softly as its shadow reaches out towards the two of them, Dean, with Castiel resting in his hands. The windmill’s shadowy arms brush the top of the box with each pass, saying hello—warm and welcoming. Dean looks up at it, feeling himself ease under the windmill’s watch, knowing that it’ll keep watch over his friend once Dean walks away from this place.

“I’m glad you’re here” he whispers to the windmill.

The windmill spins on, strong and steady … just like Cas used to.

Dean smiles weakly, nods—and then looks once more at the box in his hands, soon bending down, knees to dirt, setting the box onto the ground. The brook trickles over the rocks, muttering into the distance, telling him that it’s okay. It’ll talk to Castiel, keep him company. It’ll let Cas know that Dean was here, and that he’ll be back soon to visit, not to worry. He’s not alone … never alone.

Dean nods once more and then takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as shaky fingers finally open the box; and he lets that breath out when he opens his eyes again, heavy and harsh when nothing but ash is staring back at him.

“Damnit, Cas” he says, starting to cry as he runs his fingers through the gray grains. “Damnit.”

A fist, then a fistful, then another—clutching what used to be, crushing it into his palms, trying to embed it back into his skin, as well as leave his own mark on the angel like the angel left on him. But both are gone now, the marks, the angel. Past tense leaving nothing but the present tension that Dean will always have to live with. He looks around once more, envying Castiel a little, because he gets to stay in this place. This magical little meadow with special flowers and guardian windmills, and softly spoken brooks to keep him company.

But as Dean opens his hands, letting the ash slip away—letting the angel slip away once and for all, his envy slips away too, because Castiel deserves this. He deserves every beautiful blade of grass, every drop of warmth from the golden sun. He was made to rest in the peace of this place, and Dean was made to leave it.

Leave him.

And as the last of the angel coats the earth, Dean walks the opposite direction upon it —knowing that all he has left is that old ugly coat in the trunk of his car, that old wooden box in the palm of his hands, old memories of the a life he’ll never get to really live, and this old place— a forever-home for his oldest friend, forever in his rearview.

“I’m glad that you get to be here, Cas.”

And he is— glad.

The windmill waves him goodbye as Dean drives away.

Ashes still coating his palms, dust still coating his knees—that old wooden box still riding shotgun, only now ... it's empty.

[X]

[xenospacebabe]

Broken Wings

Hawks drabble

A/N: So I imagine for some reason that regular doctors and surgeons are capable of treating Hawks to a fault. But when it comes to his wings, they’re a bit...lost?

Summary: After coping with treating injuries to his wings by himself, Hawks finds himself with a more serious injury than he can handle. He can’t open his wings, or fly. The pain is mind numbing. He finds himself breaking into an animal clinic for some help.

Warning: Broken bones. Mild language

HawksxReader

7am. The doors don’t open until 8:30, but you still had things to do from yesterday that weren’t even started. Clutching your steel tumblr full of coffee that’ll barely scratch the surface of your exhaustion, you stifled a yawn and crawled out of your car. Barely remembering to lock it. You always parked on the side of the building so as not to take up any spaces in front. The key missed the lock a few times before eventually sliding inside and turning to the side.

The moment you turned on the lights, a couple of dogs in the back already started barking, hungry for breakfast and ready to go home. Your veterinary clinic was modest in size, but it was always busy. It was your father’s practice before he retired and passed it down to you after finishing school. Now it was all yours. It was hard work, but your clients were loyal. Many of them have been around since the place opened almost 30 years ago. You were the vet that people would recommend to their friends who needed help and had struggles affording it. Your clinic was the one that everyone knew cared the most about patients rather than money. And it showed. While your profits were great, it wasn’t what you were concerned the most about.

After setting down your things in your office, you tied back your hair into a high ponytail and took a long drink of your “breakfast.” You looked at the white board on your wall, deciding which surgery from yesterday to start on first. Picking the cat spay, you headed towards the back to get started. Passing surgery and into the kennels, you found your patient and greeted her with a sweet voice and scratches on her cheeks.

“Good morning, Sadie. You ready, sweet girl? C’mon.” The cat whined tiredly as you scooped her into your arms to bring into the surgical room. But when you lifted your head and looked inside you screamed. Unfortunately, this spooked your cat and she bolted out of your arms to hide under the kennels.

“AH SHIT! Sadie! Sadie c’mere girl! Who are you?!” There sitting on your operating counter was a man. A shirtless man with enormous wings that nearly filled the small room. He was covered in decently serious lacerations and wounds that made the surface of his skin look like a blue, black, green, and purple water color canvas. He looked terrible with deep bags under his eyes. However, he looked at you through messy strands of hair that hung in his face with a tired but smug expression.

“Really? You don’t know who I am?” He said, his voice croaking out with a subtle groan of pain. Your eyes shifted from his, those golden pools that shined like the sun, to the massive crimson wings. They, too, looked to be in disarray. Feathers stuck out in random places, others crumpled, many painted in blood. However his left hung in a slightly abnormal manner.

“I’m sorry. You shocked me all of a sudden. You’re Hawks right? What are you doing here? How did you even get in? The doors were all locked.” As you finished your statement, a single red feather lifted in mid air and hovered, showing you its bent up quill. He picked the lock with the feather and locked it behind him.

“Sorry. I just-..mmgghh...I think it’s broken. And the clowns at the city hospital the commission would send me to aren’t capable of fixing it. I found you online, you do exotics, right? Birds and stuff?”

All the while he was explaining his situation, you were assessing his condition. The area that connected the wing to his back appeared incredibly swollen, and slightly out of place. Without thinking, you reached out to palpate the area causing him to immediately flinch and groan out loud.

“Sorry! Sorry. I’m used to my patients being-...well animals. But yes, I’m a small animal and exotics vet. There’s a couple birds I’ve been treating for a long time.” Now this time, as you were talking, Hawks had his eyes trained on you. He was listening to every word you spoke intently. “Some of them were my dad’s patients before he retired. Shows how old they can get.”

Hawks braced the cold steel of the table, crouching forward some. His skin seemed damp with sweat, the pain he was in must have been affecting his body temperature. You needed to act quickly if you were going to save his wing.

“Okay, so. I have to touch it. I need to get a couple xrays to see if we have any breaks and we’ll go from there. I don’t....all I have are sedatives for animals. Would that..?”

“It’s fine, ain’t no pain out there that I can’t handle.” He looked at you with a charming smirk, clearly flexing his pain threshold to impress you. Because he looked you up and down and liked what he saw. Even in those scrubs which were relatively form fitting but patterened in cartoon cats and dogs.

“I’m serious. This is really going to hurt. Are you-“

“I said I can handle it.” Hawks snapped, frustrated with the questions now. He just wanted the pain to stop. And besides, that cute look on your blushing face was too good to miss.

“Alright...well...first you need to help me find my cat that you scared off.”

“You mean this one?” Appearing in front of you held under the arms and the butt by a trio of feathers was your very angry, very sleepy cat. You sighed in relief and retrieved her into your arms. It took some settling to calm her down but you were a natural with all animals. It came so easily. She was comfortable in her kennel when you set her back inside and you felt your brain shift gears.

You first had to get your hands on the wing. Just to get a feel of what you were working with. You’d never seen such beautiful, red feathers before. Even though you saw parrots and other birds daily. These were just...breathtaking. But even the most beautiful wings didn’t stop the pain of broken bones. Hawks groaned behind tight lips when you gently palpated the swollen wing. Inside you felt the distinct break and slight crunchiness that accompanied it. The growling in his throat didn’t frighten you, after all, you dealt with aggressive animals day in and day out.

“Y-you almost finished there, Doc? Agghh...” He finally outwardly complained when you flexed his wing. Your hands were gentle but it was still nearly unbearable. Slowly and carefully, you folded his wing back down into its natural resting position.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I know it hurts. But thank you for holding still. Alright. Let’s do some xrays.”

After some struggling and repositioning, and many awkward brushes of hands and faces, you and Hawks were successful in taking some clear shots of what you determined was a broken wing. You didn’t notice his eyes on you as you explained it to him. The room was dark, illuminated only by the backlight box that made it possible to see the xray photos. But he was studying your face quite intently.

The space between your eyebrows crinkled a little when you would point to a specific spot on the xray in concentration. When you were quiet in thought, your tongue pressed against your cheek or you nibbled your bottom lip. The slope of your nose was accentuated by the pale shine of the light box to make it look like you had a cute button nose. Everything you were saying filled his ears but didn’t register as anything coherent. Eventually, you noticed.

“Hawks? Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Your voice brought him out of the trance he’d slipped into and he blinked rapidly to soothe his eyes. He hadn’t blinked once.

“Oh! Uh-...aheh...I’m fine. And please...call me Keigo.”

“Keigo?”

“Yeah, that’s my real name. Hawks is just my hero name. I can trust you, yeah?” He looked down at you with those eyes that you swore were glowing and swallowed harshly. Suddenly your throat was dry.

“R-right! I knew that. Keigo...so...like I said. The break is pretty clean. Luckily there’s no fragments or splinters that would make a problem.”

“So what can you do to fix me?” He lied, though, about being in pain. Broken bones were painful enough. But a broken bone that carried the heavy weight of his wing was absolutely agonizing. However, years of working as a pro hero conditioned him into hiding his pain from his enemies.

“Well, there isn’t a lot we can do. Other than immobilize the wing so the bone can heal back together.”

That got his attention.

“Immobilize? You mean I can’t-“

“Fly. Yeah. Not forever, but for a while. You’d have to come back every now and then for xrays so I can see how the healing is progressing. Given the size, I’d imagine...6 weeks?”

6 weeks? Of no flying? Hawks hadn’t spent that long out of the sky in so long that he wasn’t sure he remembered what it felt like to walk anywhere. You could see the panic in his eyes, beads of sweat formed on his neck and forehead. So you reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him. He froze, not sure of what to do.

“Sorry! Sorry.” You quickly withdrew your hand. “That’s a habit. I always try to comfort the parents of my patients when they get difficult news.”

“No no, it’s-...you just surprised me.” He reached for your hand and returned it to his shoulder which was still bare. You hadn’t even realized he hadn’t redressed after finishing the radiographs. Your palm rested on his shoulder, his skin was warm to the touch. Your thumb gently stroked the end of his collarbone as you often did to support your clients. Beneath your fingers you felt the impressive muscle he had, in spite of appearing relatively lean, the muscle tone of his torso was quite defined. You imagined it had to be in order for him to fight villains and hold himself aloft while flying.

“I know it’s a difficult thing to hear. Your wings take you everywhere, I’m sure. But this won’t last forever, okay?” Something about your voice was so soothing to his fried nerves. But you’d never know because of how cool and composed he made himself appear.

“You don’t mind?” Hawks felt his anxiety dissolve when he thought about getting to see you next. It was a strange feeling, but he knew he could trust you. Those pretty eyes of yours really spoke volumes.

“Of course not. Now let’s get you taped up and on your way. I’m sure you’re exhausted, no doubt whatever broke your wing has you worn out.”

“Heh you can say that again.” There it was, his suave and too-cool demeanor. But you didn’t mind it. You were sure it was just a front he was used to keeping up. After all, you were just a civilian and he couldn’t afford to let anyone know just how weak he was.

You managed to tape and place Hawks’ wing in a makeshift splint. He refused any medication but you could tell by the way he white knuckled the table that he was in pain. A majority of the time, your patients were under anesthesia when setting broken bones. So you had to be careful this time about how heavy handed you were. By the time you were finished, you had less than 10 minutes to get him out the door before your techs and kennel attendants showed up for work.

“Come see me in a week. We’ll take more xrays and make any adjustments if you need them. Try to keep the splint dry, and rest. I mean it, Hawks.”

“Alright, Doc. I’ll be a good little bird just for you.” The winged hero winked at you as he slipped out the back door. You felt your heart leap into your throat and cheeks burn up as a result. Just as he disappeared, you heard the sounds of your employees coming in and quickly closed the door and composed yourself.

“Morning, Doc!” One of them said as you appeared in the exam area. You smiled and waved, reaching into the pocket of your white coat with your other hand. Something was in there. You looked inside and saw red. A feather. Unbeknownst to you, Hawks had slipped one of his feathers into your pocket. You couldn’t fathom why, but you felt a strange sense of comfort when you ran the tip of your finger along the center spine. It quivered when you did so.

“Ungh...” In an alley a block away, Hawks had to brace a brick wall with one hand. His insides trembled as he sensed you touching his feather. Even he didn’t know why he left one with you. But the thought of parting made him remarkably...sad?

“Get it together, Keigo...” He muttered to himself, shaking his head and continuing back home. It would be a long 6 weeks out of the sky, but at least he’d be able to see you.

A/N: This was longer than I anticipated omg. Does anyone think I should continue?

[bloosomjoon]

Let You Go - B. Simpson

Summary: you and Brad have a hard time in your relationship, and after a long talk u decides to break up, just for your and his mental health. This happened like two month ago, but accidentally you hear on the radio Brad a new song “Let You Go” and the whole conversation comes back to you in one second.

Based on: “Let You Go” by Joshua Bassett for HSMTS

Warning: english isn’t my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. sad stuff, mension of bad mental health and break up stuff.

Words: 1126

a/n: Hi, so this is my first imagine I think? I hope that you’ll like it and if you want more, let me know! Let's go and I'm sorry for any mistake again!

»»————-　♡　————-««

“And now, The vamps with their new song!” It was the first thing you heard when you turned on the radio in the car. You were scared at some point, because it was the first time after a break up, where you would hear Bradley's voice and to be honest, it was your favorite thing, when you were sad. You started the car and after a few seconds you were already on the way to your home.

“Close the book before it turns to tragedy Tear the treehouse down, give up the fantasy

It was hard for you, not to start crying in the middle of the road. Those lyrics hit you instantly and give you a hard flashback to this weird but special night. For you, all of it was like yesterday, and you can still feel those hot tears on your cheek. And still feel them on your fingers, after wiping them off from Bradley's face.

“Are you busy?” After a quiet knocking on the wooden door to his home studio, you slowly came in with a soft smile. All he do, was play on guitar some simple melodies.

“Not really” He smiled back, and put his guitar on the side, and completely turned to you. “something happened babe?”

“um” you started, and slowly came closer to him, to finally sit on his thighs and slightly hug him. “i don't even know how to start this conversation, but…” u mumbled into his neck and exhaled loudly.

It was hard for you, that was clear. From the last two month You don't feel too good, around Brad as his girlfriend or even as a friend. You don’t talk much, only when you have to. Most of the time you spend time on the couch, and he in his studio or bedroom. Even when you go to sleep, the only thing you do is say “good night”.

Let’s be honest, you're not that couple, who was called “true love” by fans and friends. Not anymore.

“Y/n you scare me, what's in your mind?” he asked after some quiet minutes. You could feel his hand in your hair. The best feeling in the world.

Maybe we still have some chance to fix it?

“Babe?” he asked again but this time you picked your head up, and looked into his chocolate eyes.

“What happened to us?” you simply asked, trying not to let any tears touch your skin. He hold breath. He knew what you were talking about. Immediately you saw tears in his eyes, which made you finally feel wet cheeks.

“I’m so sorry…” this time he hid his face while whispering those words

“Nothin' to regret since the day we met Glad we took a chance makin' our own world Perfectly imperfect like it had to be”

“Please don’t say that” You hugged him, let your tears wet his hair and your skin. “Don’t say that” you replayed sinking fingers in his hair.

After that you had a long talk about your feelings, thoughts and resolutions. You said your, Brad said his. But you know that in this situation, you don't have any chance to fix this. And he knows this too.

“So…” he started, when you stopped wiping his tears from his face. You both don’t know why, but with this motion you started giggling through the tears. “Who start this last confession?”

“not me, you know that i don’t know how to do things like that” you smile and this time, he wipes these hot tears from your skin.

“Well… yea, I know”

“I love you so much that I've gotta let you go It couldn't last forever And I hope you find better I can't forget us, can't pretend we ain't broken It was good together Now I've gotta let you go”

“Before I start, you have to know that I love.. i love you so fuckin’ much” you could feel how gently he took your hair by your ear. With that, you already know that he doesn't know what to really say in this situation, but at the same time, no matter what, you know that you’ll cry again. “and because of that, I have to let you go. I have to start working on myself and my mind again, to not destroy another future girl just like you. You deserve better Y/n, and I can't watch how you lose your light because of me.”

With that, you felt tears rolling on your skin once again, because you had the right.

“You have to find yourself back, and when this happens, just give me a sign, okay? We can't get back together, but at least we can still be friends, right?” he adds, wiping tears from you.

“Right” you replied, giving him a slight smile.

“I'll always be in love with who we used to be I'll save the photographs and keep the memories”

“That's crazy, you know?” It was the middle of the night. Your last night in a shared room and bed. The last night hug and last kiss before closing eyes.

“What actually?” he asked, looking at you and again he took your hair by your ear.

“I always thought that there was no way to break up with someone in complete peace. My last relationship ended with a really hard fight… u remember this anyway.” you giggled and looked at the window and stars in the sky. “And now, we lay in our bed, hugging each other, after our long talk… with that i don’t feel like we even break up here”

“oh so you wanna fight then?” he laughed as you too

“no, i don’t wanna” you rolled your eyes “it is fine as it is now”

“I know” he said proudly, but after that he looked into your eyes and took a deep breath. “Can I kiss you? You know, this last time before we go to sleep?”

Without any special words, you picked yourself up a little and put your hand on his cheek and kiss his lips. to be honest, it was your best last kiss for the rest of your life. After a few seconds you pulled away, because you feld another tears on your face. But u don’t really know who it was. Your… or Brad. You took a deep breath and smiled a little.

“Goodnight Brad”

“Goodnight Y/n”

“Who thought that one first kiss Would turn into two heartbreaks?”

»»-—————-««

“This was The vamps, and after a little break you’ll hear “Out of love” by beautiful and amazing Y/n! For little reminder, Y/n released this song two weeks ago, and now she breaks all records established by Olivia Rodrigo and her “driving license”! Stay with us!”

[yelenayena]

Sweet Candy

Pairing: Yelena x Fem!reader

Genre: Romance, fluff, modern AU

A/N: This story is a little bit longer, so I suggest you bring your fav beverage, play your fav songs, and enjoy your free time this weekend by fantasizing about Yelena 💕 Suddenly I wanna make a tsundere Yelena, and I think I love every side of Yelena. I gave the title Sweet Candy bc between you and Yelena are really sweet like a candy 🥺 💕 I hope you like it, and I hope you understand my English because I’m poor at grammar hehe.

Summary: Your apartment was on fire, your best friend, Zeke, couldn't help you bc he wanted to fix his relationship with his gf. He insisted you stay in Yelena’s house for a while. After you stayed in Yelena’s house for weeks, on Valentine's Day, Yelena did something that opens up your mind and changed your life forever!

Warning: Explicit Content!

You just started your first year in university. You decided to study abroad, because your childhood friend, Zeke, had already come and being an international student, and that was inspired you as you saw his student life looked so interesting.

A couple of months ago you came to the same university as Zeke, and only a few days ago you got an unpleasant event when your apartment was on fire. So today, Zeke told you to come to his best friend’s house to stay in their home for a while.

You have just arrived at Zeke's friend's house, and you are standing in front of the door. On the third knock, the door opened. The tall-ass blonde, the one who opened the door, looked at you suspiciously.

By ignoring her expression, you smiled widely. “Hi! You must be Yelena! I’m Y/N, nice to meet ya!”

Before she responded to your words, you stepped into her house. “Wow! Your house is so lovely!”

Yelena’s eyes widened as you came into her house. “I’m sorry, but who the hell are you?” She asked with an annoyed tone.

You turned your body around to look at her, “Ah! Zeke hasn't told you yet?” You threw yourself on the couch, “I’m sorry for coming to your house so suddenly without prior notice, but in my condition, I also have no choice. So he asked me to come to your house, and he will give you further details later.”

She stared at you with a gaze full of confusion. You smiled nervously, “I’m sorry but I’m really bad at explaining.”

She held her index finger to her temple, “just hold a sec!” She brought and placed you in front of the door then she closed it.

You sighed and smiled sadly. You can understand her conduct, however, you are just a stranger to her. You sat on the step in front of her house, waiting and thinking, if she refuses you, maybe you have to find another motel or guest house nearby to campus.

In the house. Yelena grabbed her phone on the desk and called Zeke. On the third ring, Zeke picked up the call.

“ZEKE! What the hell did you do to me?!” She said indignantly.

“I meant to call you. So, she must have arrived at your house?” he asked.

Even though she knew Zeke wouldn’t see her face, she still nodded her head. “Uh-huh! And why the fuck she came to my house?! I mean, who the hell is she??

Yelena can hear Zeke sighed, “Yelena, listen. Y/N is my hometown friend, my grandmother even considered her as her own grandchild and I considered her as my lil’ sister. She studied in the same university as us. But unfortunately, her apartment was on fire the day before yesterday, it was on the news, you knew it, right?

“I immediately brought her to my place when it happened. She only had me in this city because she hasn’t had many friends in her department. She slept in my place last night, but my girlfriend was really upset when she saw Y/N in my apartment.

“You know my relationship was on the rocks, so it’s hard for my girlfriend to believe that Y/N is just my friend. So please, accept her in your house until she finds a new apartment, or until my girlfriend believes me and allows her to stay in my apartment. Okay?” he explained.

“It's so sudden,” Yelena replied.

“Please, I'm begging you. I'm so worried about her, she had no luck in her life, so you're the one I can trust to help her,” Zeke pleaded.

“Does she really have no relatives or friends here?”

“No, she only had me. You know we’re foreign students. She just started her first year in our university. I can’t let her stay in her new friends’ house, I ain’t trusting them. I really want to help her but unfortunately, I can’t help her right now because I wanna fix my relationship with my girlfriend, I’m screwed without her. You owed me so it’s time to repay the favor by allowing Y/N to stay in your house for a while. I promise she won't do such annoying things during her stay. She’s a good girl.”

Yelena sighed, “fine! I’ll allow her to stay in my house JUST for a while.”

“I know I can count on you!” Said Zeke happily.

“I told you, I can’t blame your girlfriend because you fucked every girl you met before you dated her. So take your responsibility and be a good man! I’m out!” Yelena turned off her phone.

When Yelena opened the door, she saw you walk through the yard to leave her house. “Hey! Wait!” She shouted.

You turned your head immediately when you heard her voice.

“I just called Zeke and- you can stay here for a while,” she said.

You smiled happily, “really?!” She nodded. You’re walking toward her and hugging her. “Thank you!”

Yelena looked awkward, “whoa- whoa- what is it for?”

“It’s my habit to hug someone when I’m happy,” you answered. “And- this is the reason why Zeke’s girlfriend was upset when she came to his place and she saw me hug him,” you continued, speaking more to yourself than to Yelena.

But Yelena can still hear your voice, she let out a long sigh, “the two of you really are weirdos! Come in!”

This time, Yelena lets you come to her house. And since today, you’ll stay in her house together. You told your story about the fire in your apartment and when Zeke brought you to his apartment until his girlfriend came over. You convinced her that you won’t stay long in her house until you find a new apartment. You believed Zeke so much, so when he insisted that you have to stay in Yelena’s house, you obeyed him without question. If Zeke believes Yelena, so you believe her as well.

She lets you sleep in the guest room. You asked her how much you have to pay for the room, but she refused it and told you it was just for a while so you don’t have to pay her except you paid yourself for a meal.

You stayed in Yelena’s house for almost a week. You thought she was a little bit cocky with an unfriendly attitude, but she is just a straightforward person with an expressionless face. She's nice actually, at least she still lets you stay in her house until now because you discovered difficulties to find a new apartment. People might consider her as a male because of her masculine figure, and she is a very tall woman with a height of six feet three inches. For you, she’s the perfect figure for the androgynous look, she look pretty and handsome at the same time. Her hair is blonde in a short bob with straight bangs, and it suits her well. You bet she’s pretty famous among girls or boys.

Even so, you found that her friends are just Zeke and Onyankopon, a cool and nice black guy. You found out quickly because she rarely hangs out with other friends except for Zeke and Onyankopon, but she's good at negotiating with others. You often see her talking on the phone with her business partner, and in the end, she smiled with satisfaction and told you that she reached an advantageous deal. She’s also an ambitious person.

Yeah, she’s a third-year business student just like Zeke, so she often gets the assignments for making a brand or a start-up from her lecturers. Well, maybe now you can be her new good friend, you’re a friendly and funny person, so it’s not hard for you to get along with her.

“What the hell are you doing in the kitchen for hours??” Yelena asked you on the phone. You can hear the class ambiance behind her voice.

“How did you know?” you asked.

“You didn't realize? I’ve been watching you from the CCTV in every corner of my house. Even when you did some silly movements in front of the TV to workout,” she explained.

You turned your head to the upper corner where the CCTV hangs. You looked at that with surprise. How can you not realize that there are many CCTVs in her house, and she's been watching you all the time!

“You! You're a sly peeper!”

She chuckled, “my house, my rule. So what are you up to?”

“I’m making chocolate. Valentine's Day is almost coming, so I wanna make delicious chocolate for my crush. Don't worry, I'll clean up the kitchen when I’m done.”

“Chocolate? That sucks! Why are you in such a hurry? It's still a week 'till Valentine's Day.”

You rolled your eyes, “as you know, I suck at cooking, so I need to learn to make un chocolat parfait.”

“Ah! And I still remember how horrible an omelet you made!” her tone was almost mocking.

“I know you're really good at cooking, but please don't be so mean to me.”

She laughed slightly, “okay. Do what you want. Bye.”

You thought you would be able to make perfect chocolate for your crush instantly, but it’s not that easy! Luckily, Yelena was kind enough to permit you to use her kitchen often. Although she’s good at cooking, she can't help you to give you some advice to make chocolate because she hates sweets. You practice almost every day until the V day comes, and efforts won’t betray you, you did your best to make beautiful and delicious chocolate.

“Finally-” you said while straightening your back and stretching your aching muscles, feeling incredibly relieved. Today is Valentine’s day, now you can go to college before the morning class starts, and give this beautiful chocolate you made to a Mister Perfect.

“You did it?” asked Yelena, you saw her standing on the stairway in the kitchen, still wearing her pajamas. And she stepped down to the floor.

“I did it!” you said happily. You looked at the wristwatches, “and I can go to the morning class on time. How could I've been awesome with that! Ah, I bought savory croissants you like and made hot coffee on the dining table. It's just a little reward for letting me use your kitchen, and as a valentine's gift.” You smiled and winked at her.

For the first time, she looked at you with eyes that sparkled. She smiled slightly, “thanks- So, when are you going to give that chocolate to the unlucky guy?”

You smiled at her, sometimes, she can be an innocent, sarcastic woman. “Perhaps, during lunchtime. He’s a second-year student in the Political Sciences Department, and he’s the coolest guy I’ve ever met on campus. When he puts on his football uniform, he's even cooler!” you said full of joy while imagining your crush’s face.

She rolled her eyes, “I don't give a shit. Besides, giving chocolate to the boys on Valentine’s Day is kinda old fashioned. Why don't you give him a bouquet or a concert ticket?”

“I- I don't know. Isn't that something men always do?”

She clucked her tongue, “it’s women’s emancipation.”

“You're right!” you said eagerly. “Chocolate and flowers! That's cool! I’ll buy flowers for him, too! Thank you, Yelena, you're brilliant!” and you left her to go to campus.

In the late afternoon, it’s a beautiful day at the end of winter, the warmth of the sun is still accompanying people on the outside.

It’s valentine’s day, a day full of love. But all you can feel is the cold wind in your heart, the day gets grey, and pain haunts you. You remembered all the hurtful things he said to you, you feel so rejected by him. It really hurts when you expect so much more from a person you once liked so much. You’ve liked him ever since the first day of college.

Love can sometimes be magic but magic can sometimes just be an illusion. Before you realize it, the tears stream down your face. You walked so slow in Yelena’s neighborhood.

You heard the horn behind you. “Ayo, Taffy! Walking to my house?” That’s Yelena with her car, driving very slowly to follow your steps.

You turned your head to her. She looked at you with a surprise, “Hey, you okay?”

“I- I’m okay,” you said sobbing.

Without asking you first, she scrambled out of the car, and put you in the front passenger seat of the car, and got behind the wheel.

“What happened?” she asked gently.

You cried harder when she asked that. Moments later, you told her your story when you got a raw rejection from your crush. “He even called me fat and I'm not his type. I mean, I’m okay with his ridicule, it's a fact after all. But when he mocked my chocolate, that's when I felt hurt. Anyhow, it was my hard work you even helped me make it,” and you cried again.

“I did nothing, you made it yourself with love,” she said and she turned her vehicle around.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“I’m going to give that motherfucker a lesson.”

“You- WHAT?”

“Gimme his location!”

“Yelena- No! Turn around your car! Let's just go home.”

She gazed at you in silence for a while, “just shut the fuck up and keep your seat belt fastened!” she spoke firmly.

In the end, you just let her drive to the university yard where your crush and his friends are hanging around. Yelena insisted on giving him a lesson. Your heart raced when you saw her walk through the yard and stepped closer to the table where your crush sat.

Your crush stopped laughing when she stood in front of him, it also gave his friends in silence and looked at her in confusion. “Ayo! Rough guy!” She greeted him with a condescending tone.

“Who the hell are you, tomboy?” he asked her.

“Nobody, just a courier. I delivered a package for you,” she showed him a chocolate box and a bouquet.

“Ah, that’s from Y/N, huh? Take back, I ain't gonna need that. If I take that shit, I’m afraid that fatty would think I will accept her feelings.”

Yelena spat on the ground, “you know I was relieved I never dated a guy, and the guy I hate the most is the guy like you. You're more gay than I am, y’know? Before you mocked her, look at yourself in the mirror whether you're better than her or not! You think you're perfect, huh?”

Yelena threw the flowers and the chocolate on your crush’s face. Her hands in the fluid movement to deliver precisely aimed blows to a startled opponent.

“What the fuck!” He shouted out in shock. Getting rid of the flowers on his face and the chocolate stains off his jacket.

“Take that, you motherfucker! You should've respected her! It shows her love and hard work!” Yelena grunted, “but at least I’m relieved she wouldn't fall for an asshole like you again.” And she left him without waiting for his response.

You watched what Yelena did to him far behind, and it gives you a new perspective that you adore her so much.

“Thank you,” you said gently when you and she sat in the car.

“For what?”

“For everything. Why are you so kind to me? I mean, I am the one who often troubles you, but you still want to add a new enemy, because of me. I’ve seen everything you’ve done to him, and I really appreciate it.” You laughed strangely, “you were very rude to him, but I think he deserved it.

She grunted, “that son of a bitch deserves worse. Why do you think I'm doing this to you?” She looked at you seriously with her deep voice.

You find it difficult to answer. In silence, you looked at each other. You felt an odd feeling when you looked into her big beautiful eyes. You felt captivated by the look in her eyes, so you couldn't move your body when you realized her body moved closer to yours as she tried to kiss you.

As though conscious of what she was about to do, she stopped and sat up straight again. She cleared her throat awkwardly, “and the only one who can make fun of you is me.” She stared at the last small chocolate box on your lap. “Oh, there’s one more.”

“Yup, there is. Don’t worry, I’ll throw away this thing.”

She grabbed the small box immediately, “don’t! I’ll eat it.”

“What? Don't you hate sweets?”

“It’s okay if it's your make,” she eats a piece of chocolate you made. “Umm- not bad, ” she smiled slightly after she finished eating, then she turned the engine on.

After the incident on Valentine’s day, you can't look at her in the same way again, you felt confused about your feelings towards her. You thought she was just your friend, but now you realized you want her more than just a friend. You don't want to ruin your friendship with her, you need to find a new apartment as soon as possible no matter how to keep a distance from her and reset unnecessary feelings.

Luckily, you got a new apartment so you can leave Yelena’s house. Yelena and Zeke helped you pack the stuff and decorate your new room. After those busy days, you can finally enjoy your free time in your new apartment, all alone. And it gives you extra time to prioritize your revenge plan, once you've accepted the insult of the guy you liked. And a wise man said the best revenge is to improve yourself.

On the other hand, you wouldn't believe how much Yelena missed you. She felt empty when she stayed alone, she missed your presence in her house. She once got so annoyed by your noisy existence, but now she really wants to hear all your ridiculous babbling. When she thought of you, she smiled slightly, she didn't believe she could fall for a silly girl like you. Silly but sweet.

Since when did this feeling grow in her heart? She didn't know. Little thing she knew, you're the sweetest, most sincere girl she's ever met. Sometimes she wishes you could open your heart to a girl like her, but she doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable if she expresses any romantic interest in you. To get rid of all her thoughts about you, she occupied herself with the project the lecturer gave her. It is funny, you two are mutually interested in each other, but you two are too afraid to express your feelings.

Time flies so fast. Spring break is over. You are ready to open a new chapter of your life in this warm spring. You were viral by the rejection video of your crush to you, it was a nightmare because everyone recognizes you with something you don't want to be. But now, everyone on campus is amazed by the change you made to yourself. And the best thing is, your crush seems regretful that he has rejected and said something cruel to you. Now, you have some respect from others.

“Wow, I heard an issue that you're now some big news and one of the hotties in this university.”

You heard a familiar voice when you walked alone in the park near your faculty building. You frowned at your face and turned around your body, your eyes widened as you saw a big-beauty blonde standing behind you.

“Long time no see and, look at you, you've changed a lot! Now you've become- a Barbie doll? Eww! You look more ugly than before when you still have those fats in your body,” she continued.

You chuckled, “we’ve lived together under the same roof for almost three weeks, and I got your own dictionary. When you say no, it means yes. So when you say I’m ugly, it means I’m pretty?”

“Jesus, no! I tell the truth, I swear, the new you is ugly.”

“I, I just wanna love myself more by changing my lifestyle to make it healthier,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Whatever. I rather like your old appearance because now you’re a little conscious. Many morons will steal glances at you.”

“What?”

She sighed heavily, “something that didn’t change in you is you still slow like a sloth! Then, I’m leaving!”

“Hey, wait!” You grabbed her long arm to hold her step, “it’s unfair you come and go like a fart!”

Just one touch from you gives her a magical sensation. She then grabbed your hands and pulled your body to get closer to hers.

“I miss you so much! I can’t even stop thinking about you once you leave my house,” she hoarsely whispered.

She bent over you and kissed you. You were shocked by her sudden act, but her kiss is pure, fresh, and thirst-quenching. You felt her stiffening in surprise when you kissed her back, then she continued to insert her tongue into your mouth and moved wildly to play with yours. You two now are kissing so passionately, feeling the burn by the lust of each other.

“So this means, we’re stepping to the next level” she asked with a broad smile on her face. She looked happy.

You smiled mischievously, “what do you think?”

I think Yelena is the type who can make a straight girl gay. Who can ignore this big-beauty-badass bae 🥵🥵

My fav quotes from Yelena in this story 💕

Yelena to your crush: “...I was relieved I never dated a guy, and the guy I hate the most is a guy like you. You're gayer than I am, y’know?”

[she acted like a gentleman 🥰]

Sweet moments with Yelena 💕

Yelena to you: “Why do you think I'm doing this to you?”

[and you two were looked at each other until she tried to kiss you but she stopped it 😔]

You to Yelena: “Yup. I’ll throw away this thing.”

Yelena to you: “Don’t! I’ll eat it.”

You to Yelena: “Don’t you hate sweets?”

Yelena to you: “It’s okay if it’s your make.”

[then she ate your chocolate even she hates sweets 🥺]

[kimoralov3]

Best Friend's Brother

Requested By: Anonymous

Word Count: 2055

Pairing: Sam Wilson x fem!black!reader

Warnings: Swearing like a lot of it

(Y/N)'s POV

"AJ, Cass, help me bring these sheets and stuff to the extra bedroom upstairs." Sarah said as she poked her head in the kitchen.

"Why are you setting up the extra bedroom room?" I asked as I munch on a slice of cornbread.

"Sam is coming back home and he's bringing a friend." Sarah explained as pointed the boys in the direction of the linen closet.

"Wait, Sam's coming back?" I asked as I looked up at her.

"Yeah. (Y/N), I told you this like a week ago. Do you not remember?" Sarah asked, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips as she walked over to me.

"Oh, right! Sorry, I must've forgotten. What time is he getting here?" I asked as I sat up straight.

"Sometime later today. He said that he was gonna stop by the docks to check on the boats before he got here though. You should meet him there."

"Why exactly should I do that?"

Sarah gave me a look that said 'I ain't stupid' before answering me. "Don't play dumb, (Y/N). I remember how much you used to talk about how you liked him, and how you wished you could just gain the courage to ask him out. And judging by how you reacted just now, I'm guessing that those feelings haven't disappeared just yet."

"I hate how smart you can be sometimes." I huffed out as I rested my head on the counter. Sarah chuckled before patting me on the back.

"You should tell him. You can't keep stuff like this bottled up forever."

"But what if he rejects me? I couldn't bear the embarrassment." I mumbled as I turned to rest my cheek flat against the counter.

"Well then you accept it and move on. But I highly doubt that you'll get rejected." Sarah said as she went to go help the boys.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked as I leaned my head up.

"You'll find out eventually!" Sarah yelled from upstairs. I groaned, rubbing my face before going home.

----

Sam's POV

"So you have a sister?" Bucky asked as he looked at me.

"Yeah, why?" I asked as I looked at him suspiciously. Bucky just gave me a smirk and shrugged. "Oh no, I know that look. Keep that cyborg arm of yours away from my sister."

"I make no promises, Sam. Anybody else that I should know before we get there?"

"Well, yeah there's Sarah's best friend, (Y/N). Haven't seen her in a while, though." I rambled as I pulled up to the docks.

"So you have a crush on your sister's best friend? Pretty sure there's some type of rule against that." Bucky said as we got out the car.

"Woah now, who said anything about me having a crush on (Y/N)?" I asked as I got my tool box from the trunk.

"The way you talk about her suggests that you do. You saying that you don't?" Bucky asked as he followed me onto the boat. I shook my head, making my way towards the engine.

"You're seeing shit man. That's my little sister's best friend, why would I wanna be with her?"

"She could probably walk in here right now and you'd start grinning like the Cheshire Cat." Bucky said as he handed me a screwdriver.

"Are you gonna help me fix the boat or are you just gonna stand there and talk about what you think is going on in my love life?"

----

(Y/N)'s POV

Today's the day I guess. I thought as I hopped into my car. I texted Sarah that I was on my way and started the engine. During my drive, I let my thoughts run. Does he still look the same? Does he even remember me? Probably not. Whenever I saw him coming I'd run the other way. He probably thinks I'm a weirdo, and doesn't see me beyond his sister's best friend.

I shouldn't even be worrying about this. I sighed, stopping the car in front of the Wilson's house. I took a moment to compose myself before grabbing my phone and getting out of the car. I grabbed the pot of greens out the passenger seat and walked up the porch, knocking on the door. The door opened to reveal Sam standing there in a black turtleneck. Well fuck me.

"Hey (Y/N), it's good to see you!" Sam said as he pulled me into a hug. He smelled like a fresh baked batch of snickerdoodles, with extra sugar and cinnamon. I could get used to this. I gave him a smile once he pulled away.

"It's good to see you too, Sam! Man, you've gotten taller." I joked as I looked up at him.

"That, and you've always been on the shorter side. Here, let me take that for you." He said as he reached for the pot of greens. I said a small thank you and followed him into the house. "Sarah, (Y/N) is here!" He yelled up the stairs.

Sarah came into the kitchen, followed by a tall buff guy in a navy blue long sleeved shirt. "What's with everyone wearing long sleeves today? Y'all are aware that we're in Louisiana during the middle of the summer, right?" I said as I pointed between the two of them.

"Just got back from the mountains, still a little cold. The name's Bucky, by the way. It's nice to meet you." He introduced himself as he held his hand out for me to shake. I did and smiled at him.

"Nice to meet you too, I'm (Y/N). So, how long are you staying?"

"Just a few days, I gotta get back to New York." He explained as he leaned against the counter.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your stay. I gotta take the boys to the library to work on a school project, but I'll see y'all later." I waved goodbye, taking one more glance at Sam - maybe for a bit too long - before helping the boys into my car.

----

Sam's POV

I watched as (Y/N) left with the boys. Damn it, I should've said something. "So that's (Y/N)? I see why you like her, Sam." Bucky said once the door was shut and locked.

"Damn Sam, even Bucky can tell you're head over heels for her. You been gushing about her to everyone you come across?" Sarah said as she chopped up some vegetables.

"So y'all both ganging up on me now? That's cold."

"Nah, what's cold is you holding onto your feelings for almost 20 years now. Even after I told you at prom that she had feelings for you." Sarah said as she waved the knife around.

"First of all, stop swinging that knife around before you poke somebody eye out. Second of all, how was I supposed to know that you were telling the truth? Especially when she gets with some guy the next week?"

"So you believed that she really liked Michael after how much she used to trash talk him?"

"I don't know Sam, you seem to be the idiot in this situation. Although I'm sure that's a role you're used to fulfilling." Bucky said as he stole a carrot.

"First of all fuck you," I said as I pointed at Bucky. "And second of all, yeah maybe I was an idiot for not realizing that they were a fishy couple, but what's the point in saying something now? Like you said it's been years, and I highly doubt that she still has feelings for me. So we should just drop it. Alright?" I looked between the two of them. Sarah was looking at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world while Bucky just seemed amused by the whole situation.

"Sam, did you not see the way she was looking at you? She might as well have ran across the room and kissed you right then and there." Sarah explained as she turned her full attention towards me.

"Y'all are seeing shit. Can we just drop it? Please?" They both agreed to leave it alone, moving on to their own things. There's no way she could still have feelings for me. Right? Yeah, that's crazy.

----

C'mon, how can you get lost getting to the docks that are only 10 minutes away. I checked my watch again, groaning in frustration. Bucky said that he'd be here at 2:30, but it was nearing 3:15 and I was growing impatient. "Bucky Barnes, I'm gonna beat your ass the next time I see you." I mumbled as I looked around the docks.

"Sam?" Someone called from behind me. I turned around to see (Y/N) walking towards me.

"Oh, hey. What are you doing here?"

"Sarah texted me and said that she wanted me to help her with something. Are you down here to fix the boat?"

"Yeah. Bucky is supposed to be helping me, but he's almost an hour late."

"Sarah told me that he was watching the boys while we were working here." (Y/N) said as she looked at me. That's weird, why would they tell us to meet here if - oh God. "They told us to meet here because they want us to talk to each other. Dammit Sarah."

"Talk to each other? About what?"

----

(Y/N)'s POV

"About what?" Sam asked. If Sarah would've told me what she was planning I'd be a bit more prepared for this situation. Or run away. Yeah, I'd probably run away.

"About us, I guess."

"What about us?" He seemed to be confused, and that was honestly making it worse. How am I supposed to tell my best friend's brother that I've been in love with him since we were in high school? I sat down on a bench for a moment before speaking up.

"Look, I'm just gonna be honest with you," I started out. He nodded, signaling for me to continue and crossed his arms. His muscles just keep getting bigger and bigger. "I like you. I've liked you since we were in high school. Honestly, I'm not sure if this counts as just a crush anymore because I'm probably in love with you. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but Sarah keeps telling me that I should tell you. So I'm doing that now."

It was silent for a moment before Sam let out a chuckle. Then another, and another until he was full on laughing. Was me liking him that funny? "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at myself. Man, can't believe Sarah and Bucky were right."

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused here. Right about what?"

"About me being an idiot for not realizing that you like me back." Sam said as he sat beside me. It took me a moment to process what he was saying.

"Wait, you like me too?" I asked softly. Sam smiled, giving me a nod.

"Yeah, I do. Like a lot." Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

"Wow, we're such idiots. We liked each other this whole time, but we were too stubborn to admit it." I giggled out.

"And we only admitted it to each other because Sarah and Bucky made us. Don't know how I feel about that."

"Well, let's just be glad. Then we can go beat their asses for tricking us."

----

"Where are the boys?" Sam asked as we walked inside the house.

"They went to go play with Ms. Sherlly's grandkids. What's going on here?" Sarah asked as she motioned at me and Sam's joint hands.

"We told each other about our feelings. Y'all ain't have to trick us into going to the docks to get us to confess though." I said as I looked between Sarah and Bucky.

"Well you two obviously weren't going to get to it yourselves. So we took matters into our own hands." Bucky said as he sipped on a beer.

"We're gonna get y'all back for this. Just wait." Sam said.

"I'm shaking in my boots." Sarah said as she patted Sam on the shoulder.

"Y'all gonna start treating me with some respect. I'm Captain America now." We all looked at Sam for a second before we busted out laughing.

[beautifulletdownfics]

Terrible to Meet You - A Harry Styles One Shot - Act 2, Let not the time discern

++

Harry wants to get out of the house. Alex wants to get home.

Alex meets Harry at at crossroads. Harry meets Alex on a one way street.

A coffee shop OU fic feat. lattes, lamingtons & that Great Unfathomable Feeling.

Story Page Here My Masterlist Here

Read Act 1, If at first we meet Here

++

Two of Us:  'This universe ain't big enough to keep us apart'

&&&

Harry went back to the cafe the next day. (And, after that, every day for a medium while)

There was something about it. Something about the tiny cafe he must have walked past a hundred times before but never took much notice of. Perhaps it was the way he felt the rest of the day after having been there. Or the fact the coffee was fucking good. But also maybe it was her—kind eyes, a foreign accent and a quick wit. It would take Harry's mind and body marginally longer than his heart to recognise what pulled him there. 

Alex was surprised when he returned. Part of her was relieved, too. The other part of her was busy extracting the dagger of guilt that shot through her chest. Seeing Harry reminded her that she forgot to tell her flatmates the juicy The Daily Dose gossip about Harry Styles. And Harry walking up to the window a little before 8 am with a calm but reassuring smile on his face made something in her still, and Alex realised he wasn't gossip at all. 

"Hi," he greeted her pleasantly, seemingly thinking nothing of the way his hand was tucked into the top of his running shorts to extract his phone for payment. (Alex's heart did a lusty little backflip) She saw a slither of a toned tummy and the way the elastic of the shorts folded over itself, "I'm back for more," he said.

More coffee, and more of whatever else it was packaged into the takeaway cups with it. Alex and Paul were Harry's first human interaction after returning from LA. And, where 24 hours prior his aching need had been to see literally anybody, it was now just a need to see more of this somebody. A person whose name he didn't know yet and who Harry had absolutely no reason to feel connected to at all. Knitted hearts aren't visible to the human eye, not when it isn't Looking.

He did though. Although the way she was now watching him with a completely blank expression on her face and a far off look in her eyes made Harry's confidence falter. He repeated what he'd already said over in his head looking for where he might've gone wrong. Harry came up blank. Was she completely freaked out by him already?

Paul rescued her from what Alex was sure was turning into a flushed moment for her. Did Harry really not realise what he'd said with his fingers beyond the elastic of his shorts? Paul's head appeared over her shoulder as a frown started to appear on Harry's face, "Careful Harry, she's a grump today."

Nobody blinked an eye at Paul using Harry's name before it was technically given to them. 

"I am not," Alex insisted too quickly, too forcefully. Her elbow launched backwards, trying to catch Paul's gut. She really was a grump. But last night's wine was still causing her head to thump and her throat to ache. Tears and a bottle of red worked well in the moment but weren't as comforting the morning after. 

Paul's eyebrows rose in Harry's direction, and he waved a hand out in front of him, expertly weaving away from her attack even in the tiny space, "See?"

"Ah," Harry nodded awkwardly and briefly looked at his feet.

"Doesn't like it when I start talking about universe stuff," Paul explained loudly, despite nobody asking for him to. "Very spiritually pragmatic, the Australians."

"Didn't know that," Harry added, expression turning to one of interest. He wasn't involved in this part of the conversation the previous day.

"Long black?" Alex asked because yes she remembered his order, and she had the defence of it having been less than 24 hours since she last made Harry's coffee in case anyone started raising eyebrows for another reason.

"Uh, yeah," Harry fumbled over how quickly the exchange turned to business, "Thank you."

She got to work but felt Harry's eyes on her as her hands ran on autopilot, stepping through the process. The click click of the bean hopper, the churn of the grinder, packing the head … Alex put the machine on to run and internally cursed Paul, who took himself into the back room, mumbling something about them running low on serviettes. A blatant lie. 

Now, when she turned back to Harry, she tried to look calm and serene, like him. But she was already covered in coffee grind and couldn't be sure there wasn't a smudge of it across her face. Paul never told her when there was. Harry's heart was waving to hers widely.

"So … You're definitely not in a bad mood then?" Harry had an expression on his face that told Alex he was testing the waters, but the teasing note was there in just the right amount. 

"I'm hungover, which is completely different," she provided.

His smile turned into a grimace, "Oh yeah, completely … Nothing worse … Self-inflicted misery."

Alex tried not to let Harry's awkwardness affect her and in doing so fell into an old pastime of hers; filing the silence with mindless chatter, "Exactly. And then if you add in some idiot going on about the universe and it's wonderful, eternal plans for my existence … I could just kill a man, you know?"

Paul, Paul is the man I could kill, she thought.

He didn't know, but Harry nodded obediently anyway, "You need carbs and coffee, not the cosmos."

"Thank you," Alex gave Harry a look that told him she thought it was obvious the two of them were right, "I mean, the downright gall of that man, trying to put the universe on me this year of all years. Absolutely bloody insane."

Harry tried to hide the instant smile that came to his face hearing her accent navigate absolutely bloody insane. "I'm Harry … By the way … Feel like we're at names."

"Alexandra. But it's Alex." She added quickly, ignoring the lovely, melodic chuckle that came from Harry, "Do you really think that this year, with a global pandemic, anyone can claim that the universe is conspiring for their specific good? Like, 'Sorry everyone about the pandemic, this is really about my destiny, so you're all just going to have to hang tight while that all falls into place!' This is a terrible year. The universe isn't setting up shit."

"Well, it's terrible to meet you, Alex," Harry grinned, stealing her word. She really was in a grump, and he loved it. But if there was one thing Harry knew how to do, it was charm and disarm. He had a feeling nothing would look as lovely as Alex with a blush he'd put there. 

Alex paused where she was about to put the lid on his coffee. She felt her cheeks heat as the last few moments played over in her head—her ranting, Harry's introduction, threatening to murder a man—and then she took in the way he was watching her. A little pink-cheeked himself, amused but not appalled, a waiting look of anticipation on his face for what might come out of her big mouth next. 

"I think I might still be a little drunk," she excused meekly. Despite herself, Alex thought she might have a little crush.

"You're handling it well," Harry provided kindly, taking the coffee from where Alex put it down in front of him. He waved his phone over the payment portal, waiting for the beep before locking the screen and going back to looking at her, "Drinking for any particular reason?"

"Oh," Alex's eyes widened, "I—

—"Sorry, that was intrusive of me."

"No, it's okay," she continued quietly, not seeing the way her softening had Harry frowning in concentration to tune into what she was about to say, "I've been trying to get home—back to Australia—for a while now. Flights keep getting cancelled or, on Saturday, I was bumped from one at Heathrow…. So we're back to square one."

Dread filled Harry instantly. He could see how upset Alex was, the heartache in her voice—the homesickness—and he hated this look on her, the opposite to the one he'd just daydreamed about. If there was one thing Harry knew it was what it was to miss home. There was no cure for it. A dozen ways he could offer to help burst to the tip of his tongue, but he held them back. 

"I'm sorry, that's really shit. Have …" he hesitated to ask, "Have they put you on another one?"

She smiled through glassy eyes, "It's complicated, that's not really how flights home are working at the moment … But it's alright! I'm fine. I'll get there eventually. I got the refund for the first one, back in April, last week and Paul's let me come back to work here three times now so … This can't last forever, right?"

Harry didn't have an answer for that, he was in no hurry to return to his house as he took a sip of his coffee, "How long has it been since you were home?"

"I went back for a visit a little over two years ago," Alex flipped a button on the espresso machine in front of her, to distract herself from the subject but also the way Harry was watching her. If only she could see the way the hearts were watching each other. She started rinsing out her coffee mug under the stream of boiling water, "My sister came over for Christmas last year, though."

"I just got back from America," Harry provided without knowing where the urge to comfort this stranger was coming from, "I was only gone a few months, and it was a little hard to get back, it felt dreadful, so I can't imagine what it's like for you. That's a long time to be so far from home, especially now."

While he spoke, Alex started making herself a latte, for something to do in the moment and for something to hold onto if Harry stayed at the window. 

"How long have you been in London?" He asked. How long have you been just around the corner? Harry thought. 

When she looked over at him, Harry felt like she was seeing through him. There was something about her soft, brown eyes and the way they exuded kindness that had him buoyant with giddiness at the same time as feeling incredibly self-conscious. 

"Four years now," Alex told him, "Was supposed to be just a 12-month adventure."

"Your family must miss you then."

She shrugged, "I think they're used to it now. Life moves on without you, which is strange at first. Tough to get used to, that the people who own you suddenly have lives you only know about from catch-ups and Instagram posts."

Harry didn't know how to tell her that he knew exactly what she meant. He'd been struggling with that very notion for years now. Home never left like the same home he remembered, and wherever he found himself living—LA or the road—never quite felt right either. 

"I've loved it though," Alex added, "Wouldn't have stayed if I didn't. This year though … I just want to be home, London's… Lost something."

Harry watched her shake herself out of the sad moment, her face brightened, and he barely registered the way Alex said in a genuinely upbeat fashion that she'd just have to wait for her time. He smiled along with the rising of her cheeks and felt like he saw a transition between two feelings that was entirely healthy and okay. She wasn't pretending. Her graciousness and patience with life were astounding, despite the fact he'd equally seen her sadness as being genuine as well. The balance there was enlightening. 

"Need to make the most of the bonus time you've been given here then," he tried hesitantly. The hearts nodded at each other, gleefully. 

That had been the right thing to say, the smile on Alex's face amplified in agreement, "Exactly.”

3AM 'She's got a little bit of something' &&&

Alex was sitting on an upturned milk crate as Harry rounded the corner. 

His step faltered but only because she was looking right at him as if expecting him to arrive. He smiled under his mask and tugged it down while he was still a reasonable distance away. Alex smiling at him, holy hell did that taste—the flavour of her spirit—feel good in Harry's chest. Each day for nearly a month he'd felt the same way every time he saw her.

Alex received a text message from Harry just after 7 am that morning. Unlike the ones he sent every other day telling her he was on his way (an old fashioned tip from his sister, to demonstrate to Alex that Harry was thinking of her) that morning Harry told her he wouldn't see her until the afternoon. All day, she waited. Her heart tapped its foot impatiently in her chest, a nervous ticking that made Alex clumsy and disappointed when every new customer wasn't him.

"Hello," Harry grinned back at her, because that was all he could do, really. In her presence happiness exploded out of him and charged his whole body faster than caffeine ever could. His shoe scuffed the concrete path again as he looked at the closed cafe behind her, "Did I miss something?"

Harry stopped a safe distance from her, not sure how this new level of interaction would go. He'd never seen her whole body all at once, part of her was always obscured by the cafe window. Alex in the flesh—in the whole—was like the first taste of chilli on his tongue, invigorating in a way that stole the breath from his lungs.

"We close at three every day," she stayed seated but pushed another crate towards him with her foot. There were brown smudges of coffee grind all up and down her shins, and he guessed the black jeans she wore to work were strategic.

Harry squinted the sign on the window by the door, he was always occupied by her and didn't need arbitrary activities like reading signs to keep him entertained waiting for his coffee, "Really?"

"You usually come in the morning," Alex said pleasantly, waiting for him to sit down opposite her, "Here."

Harry was overwhelmed, he really was, by the sight of a white takeaway cup in her hand, and he reached for it carefully, "What's this—Alex."

"Can't have you missing your coffee … Made it right before closing, had to put the tiniest drop of milk in there otherwise it would shit itself and taste horrendous," she laughed at his wrinkled nose at the mention of milk, he sniffed the lid just to tease her or to get her to roll her eyes at him blithely. It worked, "It won't kill you, promise."

"Says someone whose intestines know how to handle lactose without making you shit yourself," he borrowed her phrase. Sounded better when Alex said it, with the wideness and the breadth of her accent. 

Alex tilted her head back and laughed. Really laughed and Harry didn't have it in him to be embarrassed or scold himself for how he just spoke about his bowels in front of her, because the sound is marvellous and so Alex. It's unapologetic and genuine and a touch off-beat, which he loves. 

"Holy shit," she let out a long, shaking breath afterwards, holding a palm to her rib as if in pain. She was pretending not to notice how Harry stared at her while she was laughing as if extremely happy with himself. "You wear white bottoms far too often for that to be a daily worry for you."

"Oh, it's a worry," Harry insisted, mainly to keep the joke going. He felt like his face was about to crack in half, "I can't have people spiking my coffees without my knowledge," Harry took a sip but then pointed his finger at her playfully, "I'm going to have to keep an eye on you."

As if he wasn't already.

"Busy day?" Alex asks, watching Harry take a hearty sip of the coffee she made him.

"Yeah, I um … I had some, ah, work stuff."

"Oh?" Alex crossed one leg over the other and looked at Harry with (mock) interest, "What do you do for work?"

Harry's eyes bulged involuntarily, and his mind went completely blank. Did she actually not know? 

Alex only let the horror play on his face for a few seconds, "I'm kidding! I'm kidding. Jesus, Harry, sorry. I was just having a go."

"You're an excellent actress, as it turns out," he swallowed down the moment of panic. It only ever happened once before, years before, that a girl he'd been interested in hadn't known who Harry was beforehand. It hadn't ended up going down well.

Alex asks Harry about the book recommendation she sent him the week before, whether he'd started reading it yet. 

Harry held up a finger at her, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that," he said, "But I haven't had lunch … I'd promised myself one of Paul's ham and cheese croissants."

"Well, you're shit out of luck, unfortunately," Alex told him, "He takes the keys with him, I can't break in and make you one. But the cafe on the high street around the corner stays open until five. You could try there?"

Harry felt like he was about to defecate himself, but it wasn't from the lactose, "Will you join me?"

Alex's eyes brightening instantly, but Harry didn't miss the way her cheeks reddened, "Sure. Of course."

"Great!" Harry coughed down his too-enthusiastic response then worried—as everyone did in 2020—that his physical reaction to her saying yes, the cough, would be interpreted as a symptom of something else entirely. He checks the time on his Apple Watch, "Should we go then?"

They walk in step away from The Daily Dose, and away from the previous pattern of their friendship. It strikes them both that this is the first time (both trip over 'first' in their minds as having the possibility to suggest it happening more often but their hearts have known all along, of course) they were out in the world together, the first time they were more than barista and customer.

Harry's hand touched Alex's forearm when they got to the cafe's door as he held it open and encouraged her to go inside. They ordered takeaway, Harry got a croissant (he was still working on the coffee Alex made him) while Alex ordered a tea. They then walked back a little way to where there was a small park with vacant seats Harry noticed on the way past. 

"So, the book …" Alex asked him, the lid of her tea is off to let the heat escape. She’d crossed her legs and angled her hips towards him on the bench seat. Harry faced forward, heart hammering as he tried to remember how to use his voice.

Harry struggled to look dignified while biting into his too-hot croissant, the cheese burnt his lip, but he tried to hide it, "Oh, yeah, well, I haven't started it."

"I thought you said you wanted to speak to me about it!" She laughed.

"A ploy," Harry admitted sheepishly, "Was trying to figure out how to ask you to come with me."

In her head, Alex squealed. Her heart held two thumbs up at Harry's.

"How's the coffee," she asked, eyeing the cup in his hand.

Harry grins, knowing his next line is a winner, "Best in London, easily."

+++

GIve me all your best Alex & Harry theories Act 3, Hearts beat not fail - coming soon!

+++

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[fleabagdiaz]

leaving home ain’t easy

madney, 2.7k, s5 speculation fic (sorta)

read on ao3

Chimney doesn’t think he’s ever been this tired in his life. Getting used to the whole dad thing has been hard enough, and now on top of it he’s pulling extra shifts to make ends meet, and staying up all night worried about his family. The sleep he does get is frequently interrupted by wordless cries, real or imagined. The only thing getting him from one day to the next is knowing that Maddie is even more tired than him. That he needs to be strong for her, and for Jee-Yun, for the family of his own that he finally managed to build. The thought of losing either of them, in any way, for any reason, is too much to bear. So he gets up in the morning and drinks two cups of coffee and kisses his beautiful daughter and aches to see the love of his life still in so much pain. He smiles as often as he can. Tries to smile enough for both of them until Maddie can again.

And he misses her. Even when she’s right in front of them, he misses her. He would do anything to take away even a fraction of her pain. Every day he tries to, and some days are better but most days are the same. So he just misses her, and loves her, and takes care of her as much as she’ll let him. Which is not as much as he’d like.

He does his best. To keep everything and everyone together and safe. To keep smiling for Jee. And he knows Maddie is doing her best too. More often than not, he feels like he’s spinning too many plates with not enough hands and something is bound to shatter. It won’t be like this forever. Things will get better. She will get better. Sometimes, though, it’s hard to remember that.

And he’s just so goddamn tired.

The day the blackout finally ends, he gets home from one of the longest shifts of his entire life practically sleepwalking through the door. All he wants is to collapse into bed next to Maddie and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, content with the certainty that she’s safe and within arms reach.

As soon as he walks into their bedroom to see the bed pristinely made with a crisp white sheet of paper resting on the pillowcase, an alarm bell goes off in his head. Jee isn’t in her crib. Maddie is nowhere to be seen. Dread rips through his body like an icy wind.

Chimney snatches up the note. It takes him too long to read. The words seem to spin around on the page, and the pounding of his heart is so loud he can barely hear his own thoughts.

My love,

I’m so sorry. I had to leave. I couldn’t keep hurting you and our daughter by staying. You both deserve so much better than me, and I never deserved anything as good as either of you.

Please don’t try to follow me. I promise you’ll be better off without me. I’ll be safe, just somewhere else. And you can be happy.

Jee is with Anne. Tell her I’m sorry, and I’ll miss her every day. Tell her it’s for the best.

Love forever and always,

Maddie

The paper falls from his hand, and he has Athena’s number dialed before it hits the ground.

“I’m sorry, Chimney, but we can’t file a missing person’s case in this scenario unless there’s evidence of foul play,” Athena says after he breathlessly explains the note. Her voice is strained with exhaustion. With everything she’s been through in the past week, he feels terrible asking her for help. But his chest is twisted up so much he can’t breathe and his mind is twisted up so much he can’t think and he needs to do something.

“She could hurt herself, or…” The words stick in his mouth, coated with tar. Chimney swallows.  “Or worse. Athena, I can’t lose her.”

Athena sighs deeply. As exhausted as Chimney feels, he’s sure Athena is in an even worse state after everything she’s been through in the past week. “Give me a minute,” She says.

He paces around the kitchen for what seems like hours, his thoughts slipping further and further down a spiral. Every time he pulls one back up, another falls even further. He’s just about to bolt out the door and start wandering the streets of LA screaming Maddie’s name when Athena’s voice comes back through the receiver. “Bobby’s going to come pick you up and take you to the airport. You call Buck and tell him to check the train station. I’ll have my people at the station keeping an eye out for any concerning calls with someone matching her description.”

A plan. They have a plan. And he has help. He’s not alone. Chimney takes a shaky breath, “Thank you so much.”

“Well, I know how you’re feeling right now and I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy.” Athena replies.

“How is Harry doing?”

“He’s safe and home. That’s about all we can ask for.”

Chimney nods, even though he knows Athena can’t hear him. “He’ll be alright. He’s a tough kid.”

“And your Maddie is the toughest woman I know. You’ll bring her home, too.”

He thanks her again and hangs up, dialing Buck’s number as soon as the call ends. If he keeps moving forward, keeps steady with this plan, then maybe he’ll get through this. Or at least get through the next few hours.

If he stops to think, he knows he’ll drown.

“Maddie did what? ” Buck cries out.

“She left. I don’t know where she went,” Chimney reiterates, passing his hand over his eyes. “So, listen, I need you to—”

“Is she okay? Is Jee okay? When did this happen?” He hears Buck’s car keys jingling in the background, like he just picked them up.

“Buck, focus. Jee is fine, no idea about Maddie. That’s why we need to go find her. Can you head to the train station?”

“Well, what about the airport? Maybe she went back to Hershey to stay with our parents or an old friend. I could go there and—”

“Just listen for a second,” Chimney snaps, then immediately regrets it. This is Buck’s sister after all. He’s loved her even longer than Chimney has. He softens his voice. “Please. I’m scared too, but we have to work together. Me and Bobby are going to the airport, you head to the train station. Can you think of anywhere else she might go?”

“Uh, I don’t know." Buck sounds a little bit like a chastised puppy. But he stays on track this time. “I’ll call Josh on my way, see if he knows anything. My parents too, I guess.”

“Thank you,” Chimney says. His phone buzzes with a text from Bobby saying he’s outside of his apartment and he rushes out the door. “I gotta go. Let me know if you hear anything at all.”

“Yeah, of course, Chim. You too.” He pauses for a moment. “We’re gonna find her, right? We have to.”

Chimney sighs, already halfway down the stairwell. “I sure fuckin’ hope so, Buck.”

He jumps into Bobby’s car without a word, and they take off towards LAX. The tension in his jaw is starting to hurt, but he can’t relax. Any thoughts of sleep have vanished from his mind, although he knows that beneath the adrenaline the exhaustion is lying in wait.

Mrs. Lee responds to his text asking when Maddie dropped Jee-Yun off. About an hour ago. Poor thing looked dead on her feet. The two of you should let me watch this little angel more often like you used to!

If Mrs. Lee knew anything about Maddie’s plan, she would’ve called. As much as Chimney would love some encouraging words from her right now, he can’t bring himself to worry her until he has to. We’ll keep that in mind. Thanks so much!

He sends a silent prayer to who-the-hell-knows that they’re not too late. If Maddie’s caught a plane or a train, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to find her, let alone get her back.

“I know how much you love her, Chim,” Bobby says, his voice breaking through Chimney’s spiraling thoughts. “And I hope we find her as much as anyone. But if we can’t, it’s not your fault. Sometimes people just don’t want to be found.”

Chimney wishes he knew what to say to that. Wishes he could form a response without the threat of his voice cracking.

Bobby keeps driving and Chimney watches endless monotonous buildings blur past the window. He usually likes LA. People crack jokes about the traffic and the smog and the wannabe-celebrities. Hell, he does too. But he’s lived here for most of his life, through ups and downs, through terrible losses and his wildest dreams coming true. This city has hand-delivered him the greatest family he’s ever known.

In this moment, he’s never hated LA more.

“I can’t lose her, Bobby,” Chimney finally says.  A tear spills down his cheek.

Bobby says nothing, just reaches over and places a hand on Chimney’s shoulder.

The rest of the drive goes by achingly slowly, in comfortable but heavy silence. They’ve almost reached the airport when Chimney’s phone buzzes with a text from Buck.

No sign of her at the train station. Can’t get a hold of our parents. Josh has no idea. Gonna help him call around to hospitals in the area.

The tightness in Chimney’s chest squeezes more with every word, until hospitals hits him like a semi-truck.

He can’t think about that now. He can’t. Maddie is okay. She has to be. And he’ll take her home, and get her the help she needs here, where he’s only ever a traffic-dependent number of minutes away, and he can see her every day and hold her hand and tell her how much he loves her until she finally believes it, even if he has to say it thousands of times a day for the rest of their lives.

The car hasn’t even rolled to a stop outside departures before Chimney is out the door. Bobby calls out after him something about parking but Chimney doesn’t catch it and, right now, he doesn’t really care.

When he gets inside the airport he immediately ambushes the poor, dead-eyed employee at the information desk, cutting the line of twenty protesting patrons. “When’s the next flight to Philadelphia taking off?”

A bewildered expression replacing his dead stare. He blinks at Chimney, then types something on his computer. “Uh. 30 minutes. But it’s booked.”

“Makes no difference to me. Just tell me the gate number and get me any ticket that’ll get me through security. Preferably a cheap one.”

“Sir, you can’t—”

“Listen, man. I promise you I have a good explanation. It’s a real tear-jerker of a story, too. But I really don’t have time to tell it, and it would be much easier to just sell me the ticket now and get me out of your hair.”

Five minutes later, he’s shelled out $400 for a flight to Montana that he’ll never step foot on and is schmoozing his way to the front of the security line. The words fall out of his mouth before he knows what he’s saying. My grandmother has less than a day to live, I just have to make my flight. My wife is in labor, I just have to make my flight. My kid suffered a traumatic brain injury and is finally able to play his first baseball game again, I just have to make my flight. Anything to get people to let him skip through the security line they’ve been waiting in for God knows how long. He would tell the truth, but it feels so mixed up and raw and intimate that lying comes much easier. Somehow he makes it to the front of the line and through security in less time than it usually takes him to find parking here.

And he takes off at a dead sprint through the terminal.

His heart breaks more with each step. He’s not going to make it. He has no idea if this is even the right flight. Or if she’s here at all. He’s going to lose her. Lose the best person and the best life he’s ever had. He should just let her go. It’s selfish to make her stay if it’s not what she wants.

He can’t possibly let her go. Not like this.

He runs past hundreds of people, thousands. But he knows, he knows , that none of them are Maddie. Something in him would stop him dead in his tracks. Would lead him right to her. In the blur of faces and bodies, he knows Maddie will stick out, clearer than HD.

And she does. Sitting at the otherwise empty gate for the flight to Philly with a carry-on suitcase at her feet, staring out the window at the place where the plane must have just been. Looking as beautiful as ever, but so empty and so tired that, despite the relief that floods his body, the pain in his chest remains, sharper than ever. He slows to a stop twenty feet away from the person he loves most in the world, save for the person they made together.

“Maddie.” He breathes her name, too quietly for her to hear. Disbelieving of his luck, he cautiously approaches her, like she’s a mirage that will disappear at the wrong angle.

When she finally turns and sees him, her eyes widen for a moment, her body tensing. And then her shoulders slump in defeat.

Chimney sits down in the chair next to her. What now?

“Hi,” He says simply.

He’s almost surprised when she responds. “Hi.”

“You had us worried there for a minute.” Chimney’s not sure if that’s the right thing to say. He’s not sure if there is a right thing to say.

Maddie takes a deep breath. Her eyes are puffy and red, and a tear rolls down either side of her face. “I couldn’t do it.” Chimney takes her hand in his own and nearly falls apart when she clings tightly to it. “I was trying to do the right thing. I was trying to set you free. Set you both free. But I couldn’t…” She shrugs helplessly. “I couldn’t leave.”

“Well I, for one, am damn grateful for that.” Chimney’s voice cracks halfway through the sentence. And then they’re both sobbing into each other’s shoulder in the middle of the bustling airport, and Chimney doesn’t know how it’s possible to feel so much joy and so much pain at the same time. Like at any moment his chest might burst open from the sheer force of it.

After several long minutes, Maddie’s breathing comes more evenly, and he pulls back to look her in the eye, wipes her tears with his thumb. “Let’s go home, Maddie. And in the morning, we can get you checked into that inpatient program that Dr. Bolsaro recommended. We’ll get you the help you need. Here. We need you here, and I think you need us too. It’s okay to need us.” Maddie stares at him through her tears, her expression still just as hollow. He knows she doesn’t believe him yet. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling her. “We all want to help you. You’re worth every second. All of it. You’re worth everything.”

“I’m not,”  She whispers. Chimney’s already fragmented heart shatters into even smaller pieces.

“I swear to you, you are. You don’t have to believe me. You just have to stay, and let us prove it to you.” He stands, and holds out his hand. He isn’t sure if she’s going to take it. But he hopes, and he hopes, and he tries to believe that the hope will be enough.

She holds his gaze. Then turns to the window, her eyes fixed on the spot on the tarmac where the plane took off to her wretched old life. The life she thinks she still deserves. The plane she didn’t get on anyway.

And then she turns back to Chimney. And she takes his hand.

[whitehotharlots]

The point is control

Whenever we think or talk about censorship, we usually conceptualize it as certain types of speech being somehow disallowed: maybe (rarely) it's made formally illegal by the government, maybe it's banned in certain venues, maybe the FCC will fine you if you broadcast it, maybe your boss will fire you if she learns of it, maybe your friends will stop talking to you if they see what you've written, etc. etc. 

This understanding engenders a lot of mostly worthless discussion precisely because it's so broad. Pedants--usually arguing in favor of banning a certain work or idea--will often argue that speech protections only apply to direct, government bans. These bans, when they exist, are fairly narrow and apply only to those rare speech acts in which other people are put in danger by speech (yelling the N-word in a crowded theater, for example). This pedantry isn't correct even within its own terms, however, because plenty of people get in trouble for making threats. The FBI has an entire entrapment program dedicated to getting mentally ill muslims and rednecks to post stuff like "Death 2 the Super bowl!!" on twitter, arresting them, and the doing a press conference about how they heroically saved the world from terrorism. 

Another, more recent pedant's trend is claiming that, actually, you do have freedom of speech; you just don't have freedom from the consequences of speech. This logic is eerily dictatorial and ignores the entire purpose of speech protections. Like, even in the history's most repressive regimes, people still technically had freedom of speech but not from consequences. Those leftist kids who the nazis beheaded for speaking out against the war were, by this logic, merely being held accountable. 

The two conceptualizations of censorship I described above are, 99% of the time, deployed by people who are arguing in favor of a certain act of censorship but trying to exempt themselves from the moral implications of doing so. Censorship is rad when they get to do it, but they realize such a solipsism seems kinda icky so they need to explain how, actually, they're not censoring anybody, what they're doing is an act of righteous silencing that's a totally different matter. Maybe they associate censorship with groups they don't like, such as nazis or religious zealots. Maybe they have a vague dedication toward Enlightenment principles and don't want to be regarded as incurious dullards. Most typically, they're just afraid of the axe slicing both ways, and they want to make sure that the precedent they're establishing for others will not be applied to themselves.

Anyone who engages with this honestly for more than a few minutes will realize that censorship is much more complicated, especially in regards to its informal and social dimensions. We can all agree that society simply would not function if everyone said whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. You might think your boss is a moron or your wife's dress doesn't look flattering, but you realize that such tidbits are probably best kept to yourself. 

Again, this is a two-way proposition that everyone is seeking to balance. Do you really want people to verbalize every time they dislike or disagree with you? I sure as hell don't. And so, as part of a social compact, we learn to self-censor. Sometimes this is to the detriment of ourselves and our communities. Most often, however, it's just a price we have to pay in order to keep things from collapsing. 

But as systems, large and small, grow increasingly more insane and untenable, so do the comportment standards of speech. The disconnect between America's reality and the image Americans have of themselves has never been more plainly obvious, and so striving for situational equanimity is no longer good enough. We can't just pretend cops aren't racist and the economy isn't run by venal retards or that the government places any value on the life of its citizens. There's too much evidence that contradicts all that, and the evidence is too omnipresent. There's too many damn internet videos, and only so many of them can be cast as Russian disinformation. So, sadly, we must abandon our old ways of communicating and embrace instead systems that are even more unstable, repressive, and insane than the ones that were previously in place.

Until very, very recently, nuance and big-picture, balanced thinking were considered signs of seriousness, if not intelligence. Such considerations were always exploited by shitheads to obfuscate things that otherwise would have seemed much less ambiguous, yes, but this fact alone does not mitigate the potential value of such an approach to understanding the world--especially since the stuff that's been offered up to replace it is, by every worthwhile metric, even worse.

So let's not pretend I'm Malcolm Gladwell or some similarly slimy asshole seeking to "both sides" a clearcut moral issue. Let's pretend I am me. Flash back to about a year ago, when there was real, widespread, and sustained support for police reform. Remember that? Seems like forever ago, man, but it was just last year... anyhow, now, remember what happened? Direct, issues-focused attempts to reform policing were knocked down. Blotted out. Instead, we were told two things: 1) we had to repeat the slogan ABOLISH THE POLICE, and 2) we had to say it was actually very good and beautiful and nonviolent and valid when rioters burned down poor neighborhoods.

Now, in a relatively healthy discourse, it might have been possible for someone to say something like "while I agree that American policing is heavily violent and racist and requires substantial reforms, I worry that taking such an absolutist point of demanding abolition and cheering on the destruction of city blocks will be a political non-starter." This statement would have been, in retrospect, 100000000% correct. But could you have said it, in any worthwhile manner? If you had said something along those lines, what would the fallout had been? Would you have lost friends? Your job? Would you have suffered something more minor, like getting yelled at, told your opinion did not matter? Would your acquaintances still now--a year later, after their political project has failed beyond all dispute--would they still defame you in "whisper networks," never quite articulating your verbal sins but nonetheless informing others that you are a dangerous and bad person because one time you tried to tell them how utterly fucking self-destructive they were being? It is undeniably clear that last year's most-elevated voices were demanding not reform but catharsis. I hope they really had fun watching those immigrant-owned bodegas burn down, because that’s it, that will forever be remembered as the most palpable and consequential aspect of their shitty, selfish movement. We ain't reforming shit. Instead, we gave everyone who's already in power a blank check to fortify that power to a degree you and I cannot fully fathom.

But, oh, these people knew what they were doing. They were good little boys and girls. They have been rewarded with near-total control of the national discourse, and they are all either too guilt-ridden or too stupid to realize how badly they played into the hands of the structures they were supposedly trying to upend.

And so left-liberalism is now controlled by people whose worldview is equal parts superficial and incoherent. This was the only possible outcome that would have let the system continue to sustain itself in light of such immense evidence of its unsustainability without resulting in reform, so that's what has happened.

But... okay, let's take a step back. Let's focus on what I wanted to talk about when I started this.

I came across a post today from a young man who claimed that his high school English department head had been removed from his position and had his tenure revoked for refusing to remove three books from classrooms. This was, of course, fallout from the ongoing debate about Critical Race Theory. Two of those books were Marjane Satropi's Persepolis and, oh boy, The Diary of Anne Frank. Fuck. Jesus christ, fuck.

Now, here's the thing... When Persepolis was named, I assumed the bannors were anti-CRT. The graphic novel does not deal with racism all that much, at least not as its discussed contemporarily, but it centers an Iranian girl protagonist and maybe that upset Republican types. But Anne Frank? I'm sorry, but the most likely censors there are liberal identiarians who believe that teaching her diary amounts to centering the suffering of a white woman instead of talking about the One Real Racism, which must always be understood in an American context. The super woke cult group Black Hammer made waves recently with their #FuckAnneFrank campaign... you'd be hard pressed to find anyone associated with the GOP taking a firm stance against the diary since, oh, about 1975 or so.

So which side was it? That doesn't matter. What matters is, I cannot find out.

Now, pro-CRT people always accuse anti-CRT people of not knowing what CRT is, and then after making such accusations they always define CRT in a way that absolutely is not what CRT is. Pro-CRTers default to "they don't want  students to read about slavery or racism." This is absolutely not true, and absolutely not what actual CRT concerns itself with. Slavery and racism have been mainstays of American history curriucla since before I was born. Even people who barely paid attention in school would admit this, if there were any more desire for honesty in our discourse. 

My high school history teacher was a southern "lost causer" who took the south's side in the Civil War but nonetheless provided us with the most descriptive and unapologetic understandings of slavery's brutalities I had heard up until that point. He also unambiguously referred to the nuclear attacks on Hiroshmia and Nagasaki as "genocidal." Why? Because most people's politics are idiosyncratic, and because you cannot genuinely infer a person to believe one thing based on their opinion of another, tangentially related thing. The totality of human understanding used to be something open-minded people prided themselves on being aware of, believe it or not...

This is the problem with CRT. This is is the motivation behind the majority of people who wish to ban it. It’s not because they are necessarily racist themselves. It’s because they recognize, correctly, that the now-ascendant frames for understanding social issues boils everything down to a superficial patina that denies not only the realities of the systems they seek to upend but the very humanity of the people who exist within them. There is no humanity without depth and nuance and complexities and contradictions. When you argue otherwise, people will get mad and fight back. 

And this is the most bitter irony of this idiotic debate: it was never about not wanting to teach the sinful or embarrassing parts of our history. That was a different debate, one that was settled and won long ago. It is instead an immense, embarrassing overreach on behalf of people who have bullied their way to complete dominance of their spheres of influence within media and academe assuming they could do the same to everyone else. Some of its purveyors may have convinced themselves that getting students to admit complicity in privilege will prevent police shootings, sure. But I know these people. I’ve spoken to them at length. I’ve read their work. The vast, vast majority of them aren’t that stupid. The point is to exert control. The point is to make sure they stay in charge and that nothing changes. The point is failure. 

[elocinnicole]

Butterflies – Part Three

Pairing: Collin Hoskins x Black!Reader

Rating: M for Language and Death

Tagging: @ohsoverykeri

Part One Part Two Part Three

You spent most of the day in your room not wanting to be around Collin. This isn’t the first time you and Collin got into a fight. The last time you could recall, was when he first went to jail and he was complaining about his mom not coming to see him.

A Year Ago

You played with your fingers waiting to see Collin, he’s been locked up for almost a month and the people who came to see him regularly were Miles and yourself. Of course, Val didn’t come but the past couple of times you came to see Collin you would ask his Mom to come along. At first, she would agree but then when it came to the day of she would cancel.

“You got one hour.” You heard the gruff voice of the CO. Collin was escorted to your table, you offered him a small smile which he returned, having been his friend for almost twenty years you knew something was troubling him.

“How you been, Y/N?” Collin pulled you in for a hug, you smiled into the embrace, Even though you saw him last week, it was hard visiting your friend in prison.

“I’ve been good, Collin.”

“That’s enough!” A booming voice barked, Collin rolled eyes and the two of you pulled away. Collin saw the bags of chips on the table and his eyes lit up

“You got some for little old me?” He teased

“Shut up, I only did it because your Mom asked me to.”

“You talked to my Mom?” He asked, you looked at him with sad eyes. The last time you came to visit him, Ms. Nancy had told Collin that she would come to visit with you

“Yeah, uh I know she said she was gonna come with me today, but she wasn’t feeling good this morning…” Collin slowly nodded his head

“Collin—”

“Y/N, I don’t know how she can’t come and see me. I’m her son, Y/N! I’ve been in here for a month and she still hasn’t come to see me. Don’t she miss me?” Collin asked his voice growing loud

“Of course she does, she said she misses you all the time.

“Oh yeah?”

“She said it’s too hard for her.”

“It’s too hard for her?!”

“Hey! Keep it down Hoskins!”

“How do you think I feel? I’m the one that’s locked up!” Collin asked in a loud whisper

“Yeah, over some dumb shit.”

“Oh really? So you been talkin’ to Val?”

“Collin, don’t go there!” You were hoping that this would be a good visit but as time went on you were getting increasingly irritated with your friend.

“How do you think I feel when my Mom won’t come to see me?”

“How do you think she feels? Who do you think called her when you got your ass arrested? Did you know she put a second mortgage on the house to try and bail you out? When I told her that you got arrested the first thing she asked me was did they shoot you? Collin every time I see her or call her on the phone, she cries, the entire time, for you. So, before you get mad think about why she may not want to see her son in handcuffs.”

“Alright, visiting time’s over.” Collin’s CO said and before you knew it they were escorting Collin away from you…again.

You were finishing up a wig for a client when your phone ringed and you saw a text message from Trevon,

You went back to your wig when another text came through, this time from Janelle

The sound of your door creaking open made you look up, you saw Collin slowly entering your room holding a plate of nachos. You tried hard not to smile, nachos were your favorite food to eat. You and Colin would eat them all the time when you were in high school. “Figured you were hungry,” Collin said sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I am, thanks.” You said grabbing the plate of nachos and placing them on your nightstand and joining Collin on your bed. As much as you wanted to discuss your argument from earlier there was an even bigger elephant in the room.

“We need to talk, Collin,” You started

“I’m sorry for not asking about Val, that shit’s foul and it’s your place—”

“I don’t wanna talk about that.” Collin frowned in confusion

“We got gotta talk about the other night, because you can’t be getting mad at me when I go out on a date but I have to ‘understand’ your booty calls with Val.”

“They not booty calls,”

“Oh so what are they?”

“I’m trying to work things out with Val trying to see if we have something,” you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily

“Why do you act like you owe her something?”

“Because I do!”

“Collin, when was the last time you heard from Val other than her wanting some dick?” Collin turned his face away

“Exactly!”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You bringing all types of niggas in here!”

“First of all, no the fuck I don’t, two, it’s my house. If I wanna bring a nigga all up and through my house I can do that. Besides, it’s not niggas, I’m actually talking to someone and he’s been here once, try again.”

“I’m doing the same thing!”

“No, you’re not, you getting your dick wet just because some bitch says ‘jump’.”

“Don’t be like that Y/N, we didn’t really end things. I just want to see if there’s anything still there.”

“How many times, does Val have to tell you she don’t wanna be with you? Did she come visit you, put money on your books, did she even call your ass?”

“You don’t gotta give me a history lesson, I know all that shit,”

“Did you know she was gonna let your ass rot in that jail cell? She didn’t even want to attempt bail you out.”

“Y/N—”

“Collin, she’s not good for you. I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“What makes you think she not good for me?” You were done talking in circles with Collin, at this point, all you wanted to do was be alone.

“You know what Collin, Imma drop it because you gonna do whatever the fuck—-”

“Nah, air out, tell me why you think Val’s not good for me,”

“I’m not about to do this with you, Collin.”

“Y/N, as my friend, shit, one of my best friends, you gotta air out,”

“Janelle sent me a text—” Your phone ringing interrupted you, you almost ignored it but you saw that it was your Mom calling.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” You said before answering your phone.

“Hey, Mom—wait, wait, slow down. What’s going on?” Collin saw your face drop and instantly grew worried

“Okay, okay I’m on my way.” You ended the call, still trying to process the conversation you just had.

“What’s going on?”

“Um, I gotta get to the hospital, my dad just had a heart attack.”

You stared out the window while Collin drove the two of you to your parents house. By the time you got the hospital your mom told you that your dad was gone. Various memories of you and your Dad flashed through your mind. From learning how to ride a bike to when you graduated from cosmetology school and how your Dad treated it like it was a college graduation. That was your Dad though, he went above and beyond for every event for you and you brother no matter how small it was. Being the oldest, you were always a Daddy’s girl. Life without your Dad never really ran across your mind, of course you knew that he wouldn’t be here forever but you didn’t think that time would be now.

You laid on the twin size bed in your old teenage room, staring at the ceiling your eyes focused on the Nelly poster. If you looked at anything else in your room you would’ve broke. You’ve been doing a great job, so far, at managing your emotions, you didn’t have time to fall apart. You have to be there for your Mom, your brother, and your nephews. The bed sunk letting you know that Collin had got in the bed with you. You insisted that he sleep in your brother’s room. Even though it was still the same size bed in his room as well, you know that he would have more space rather than sharing with you. Collin could sense you were barely hanging on, he turned his body toward you, waiting for you to look at him.

“Y/N,” You ignored him, “Y/N, look at me.”

“Collin, I’m fine. We have to get some rest, we gotta get my brother and his kids from the airport early tomorrow.”

“Y/N, can you look at me? Please,”

“Collin, I’m fine. Goodnight.” You turned off the lamp and rolled to your side, hoping Collin would drop it.

The next day Collin, tried to get you to slow down but if you sensed he was trying to talk to you about your Dad you would change the subject or busy yourself with something else. Your mom made a Instagram post so you were getting calls and text messages all day, it was becoming over whelming. Luckily for you, Collin had to work that evening so you didn’t have to deal with him following your every move making sure you were okay. Your brother, Cameron, and you were now attempting to draft your Dad’s obituary.

“I don’t know why we can’t put that in there.” Cameron mumbled under his breath.

“Because, it’s not important! He only spent one semester there,”

“And? That’s where he met Mom!”

“Cam, we only have one page for this obituary, it’s not an autobiography. We can say when they met and got married, period!”

“So you just gonna cut out an important part of Dad’s life?”

“Cam, I’m not—you know what, I can’t do this. Ever since I picked you up from the airport, you’ve been fighting me with every decision. I’m going back to my place,” You huffed quickly getting your bags together.

“So you just gonna leave?”

“Yes, the hell I am.” You left your childhood home, slamming the door shut, once you were halfway down the block you realized that, you didn’t have your car. You let Collin drive it to work. The walk to your place wasn’t long but it was late, your pride hindered you from walking back to your Mom’s and facing your brother again,

“Damnit,” You pulled out your phone and called the first person you could think of. “Hey, can you give me a ride?”

“Thanks, Miles, for picking me up. I know you and Ash are busy with Shauna—”

“You fam, it’s no problem and I’m sorry about your Dad, he was like the only guy I looked up to.”

“Thanks, Miles. You remember that time he caught you skipping school?” Miles chuckled at the memory

“Yeah, I ain’t know he was following me and shit. He hopped out the car like he the muh fuckin police. Then he had my ass running back home while he drove behind me.” You laughed while Miles reminisced until he got a text from Ashely.

“Miles, go home before Ashley beats your ass.”

“Well, shit I’m waitin’ on your ass to get out my car.” You jokingly shoved your friend before getting out

“Bye, Miles!”

“Ay, when you gonna come braid my hair like Ash’s?”

“Bye, Miles!” You shook your head as Miles sped off. Once you got inside you realized that you hadn’t eaten all day. You honestly didn’t feel like cooking so decided to order something from UberEats. Nothing looked appetizing to you so you decided against it. Sitting on your sofa, glass of wine in hand, you finally had time to yourself, no one asking how you were feeling, no one calling to offer condolences, family members and friends you haven’t heard from in years were reaching out, it was too much. Finally having a moment to yourself, you felt the tears coming

“Y/N?” Collin called out, you quickly wiped your tears, not wanting him to see you cry.

“In the living room.” You called out, Collin walked with takeout boxes in hand.

“Figured you’d be hungry,” you gave him a small smile in return.

“Thanks, Collin, but I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat something—“

“I told you I’m fine, I’ve been telling everyone I’m fine all day! Damn!” You snapped

“Aight, I was just checking on you!”

“I don’t neeed anyone to check on me, I only want one person to check on me and he’s not here!” For the first time today, you finally cried. Collin sat eside you and pulled you close to him

“No amount of food, texts, or phone calls can bring him back.” You cried into Collin’s chest as he held you. You pulled away and Collin cradled your face in his hands, you leaned into the embrace. He gently grabbed your chin and before you knew it, you were kissing Collin. You were the first to pull away and Collin frowned

“What about you and Val—”

“Fuck Val,” Collin said pulling you in for another kiss.

Please let me know, if you would like to be tagged in this series.

[msmarvelwrites]

Vienna Waits

Summary: The reader has a hard time around the holidays because it brings up a lot of unhappy memories. Bucky knows trauma all too well and he’s always there to lend some Christmas cheer. 

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: mentions/flashbacks of assult, ptsd, 18+, swearing, but truly a fluff piece...

Word Count: 2.5k

Authors Note: Hi again! It’s ya girl, back at it again with the plot all to based on her own predicaments. Please read the warnings because the last thing I’d ever want to do is trigger anyone- but at it’s core I wrote this as an aid. Like My Girl, this was written to bring us together, because we are so much stronger that way! This is also my first submission to the Merry Hoemas Challange, so with that please enjoy! Sending love and light to all you beautiful holiday babies.

Thank you to @amythedvdhoarder  @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes @pumpkin-and-pine and @starlightcrystalline for hosting this holiday challange!

It was, of course, the most wonderful time of year. Christmas Eve at the Avengers Compound. 

The snow cascading from the dark sky acted as a sheet of white as you nervously sipped on your tea, checking the time once again. Your best friend was supposed to be back from his solo mission hours ago, and yet here you were, alone and completely overwhelmed. 

He was always better at these things. Always knowing how to avoid the holiday slump with ease. Bucky was who you turned to when you needed a quick coping mechanism. 

Christmas with the world's mightiest heroes had its perks for sure, but this was certainly not one of them. The joyous holiday music echoing through the Avenger hq living room was doing nothing to settle your nerves. In fact, quite the opposite. It lingered around you, pulling memories you buried deep down in the back of your mind. 

“I really think it’s better if I just head home… It’s getting really bad out there and…”

His lips cut you off, lazily trailing down your neck as the taste of bile rose into your throat. He was just drunk, you thought. So were you. You had given him the wrong idea. If you just explained you didn't want him to touch you… 

He would understand, you thought… You really did. 

“Honey, I’m home” Bucky called, cackling to himself as he shook off the snow caked to his winter coat. His voice shot you back into the dimly lit living room you now resided. 

You lunged from the recliner, spinning around the corner to find Bucky, hands full of gift bags and a candy cane dangling out of his mouth as a goofy grin tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“Where the hell have you been?” You tried to sound angry, but he was just so damn cute.

“Okay, first of all, you're welcome.” He scoffed sarcastically, gesturing to the gift bags as he placed them on the floor. “And second, you're the one who sent me out in the middle of a snowstorm for last minute christmas presents… So, you get what you get.” He chuckled. 

“No, no, I appreciate you- it… I appreciate it so much Buck.” You stumbled, though you didn't let the blush creep onto your cheeks before you spoke again, “You know how I get this time of year.” You sighed, crossing the room to help him with his bags of gifts. It wasn't lost on Bucky that the holiday season was difficult for a lot of the team, including yourself. Though he didn’t know everything about your past and how it brought you here, to the team, and one of the most ruthless fighters the Avengers had ever seen, he did know it was rough and dark and definitely off limits to talk about. Bucky didn't mind, however. As long as he had you by his side. 

“Ya know, if you help me wrap these gifts there might be a Christmas movie marathon in your future.” He wiggled his brows causing you to laugh. 

“That really sounds like a lose-lose on my end here, Buck.” you giggled.

“Are you by any chance at all into hot chocolate?” he bribed, though you would have caved regardless. Any time spent with Bucky was all you wanted for Christmas. 

Once all the presents were wrapped, Bucky was true to his word, puttering into the kitchen, whipping up his famous hot chocolate recipe. Honestly, if the world knew the famous Winter Soldier was as jolly was he is, they probably wouldn't believe it. Something about Christmas just brought out the best in him. 

“So,” You started as you sipped on your whip cream topped hot chocolate. “What is it about this holiday?” You pried, looking up at Bucky as he wiped a dollop of cream off the tip of your nose. 

“I don’t really know. Getting my memories back after all that time, Christmas with my Ma and sisters was always so clear…” He paused, his eyes fixing themselves on the floor. “I guess it’s one of the only really decent memories I have.” 

You only stared at Bucky for a moment as you let the words sink in. He never really spoke about his family and what, if anything he remembered. You never pushed him, thankful that he respected you the same. Though you had only been friends for a year now, those things just aren't privy to your relationship. 

“You never told me that before.” You finally spoke, watching as his eyes met with yours. 

“Yeah well, it’s hard to talk about sometimes. But… I don't know. I trust you, doll. More than anyone, I think. You kind of pull it outta’ me.” He sighed into that goofy smile you loved so much. You wanted to tell him that there was no one in this world that you trusted more, that you could and would be an open book for him, if that's what he wanted… But you supposed it went without saying. Instead, you rested you head on his shoulder, sinking back into the couch as you watched whatever sappy Christmas movie Bucky had picked out for you to watch. 

It wasn't long before the compound started to buzz with disembodied voices and echoing footsteps. A team was getting back tonight, and soon the living room would be filled with your friends booming laughter. 

You let your mind wander, tiptoeing into the darkest parts of your unconscious as the movie faded further and further away…

Your body shook, hard. You heard yourself plead, begging him to stop. Could feel the tears wet and hot as they rolled down your cheeks pooling onto your chest as he wiped them away. Such an act of kindness in such a nauseating scene. Your whole body ached with how hard you were trembling. So weak. You knew it, and now he did too-

Wanda was the first to round the corner, plopping herself down on the couch between you and Bucky, almost sitting right on your lap. 

“Good evening!” She chimed, resting her head against your shoulder in a complete and utter disregard of yours and Bucky’s closeness. Wanda was always the best at diffusing tension you hadn't even realised was there. Though now, as she sat there, it was very apparent that's exactly what it was. However you were thankful for her halting your train of thought. 

“Hello, darling.” Bucky chuckled as you wrapped your arms around her.

Tony rounded the corner next, snickering when he saw the three of you bundled up on the couch together. “Well, isn't that sweet. The trauma triplets are back together.” 

“Dont hate us cause’ you ain’t us, Tony.” You sang, watching as he rolled his eyes and puttered off to his lab. 

“So, any plans for this evening?” Wanda asked, grabbing your mug of hot chocolate without a second thought and taking a sip. 

“This is kind of it. Most of the team is back home with their family.” You explained, looking behind Wanda's head to Bucky, “Do you have any plans with Stevie?” You asked.

“Nope.” He popped the P. “Just us tonight. Steve’s out on a solo mission until tomorrow morning.” 

“About that… Nat is actually setting me up tonight. A double date, I think? So, it's just you guys tonight.” Wanda spoke sheepishly. 

Bucky and you both gapped at her before you finally spoke, “Traitor.” You glared while she only chuckled, shoving you playfully.  

“You guys will get along just fine without me. Just don’t watch The Holiday until I’m back! You guys know that’s my favourite”

As the compound quieted down for the night, you and Bucky fell into your daily routine of  comfortable silence. It was just like every other day, or at least that's what you tried to tell yourself as the end credits of another holiday movie started rolling onto the screen. 

“So,” Bucky finally spoke, shifting in his seat to reach for something out of your eyeline. “It’s technically christmas now… And, I know we said no gifts, but I saw this and it was just so you. I had to pick it up.”

Your eyes landed on the small velvet box in his hands, your breath hitching in your throat for a moment as your brain forze. You could feel your body trembling as he held it out, waiting for a reaction, but all you could do was stare. 

“Such a good little thing.” He finally spoke. Your eyes were so glazed over you couldn't quite tell where his voice was emulating from. You could hear his belt, feel his hands on either side of your face as he whispered in your ear. “Happy Christmas, baby.” He chided, dropping the small velvet box in your hands as he left the room. 

You couldn't bear to touch it, whipping it across the room as it shattered open, the small diamond necklace rolling across the hardwood floor as it tumbled to the ground with a harsh crack. Your fingers burned where the rough velvet had been, and you remembered thinking you'd feel this way forever. 

“Y/n?” Bucky spoke your name and it shocked you back to reality. You blinked at him, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at him. He looked absolutely terrified and it broke your heart. Absolutely tore you apart that you could ever be the reason for that face. 

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m so sorry, I was so far away there for a moment.” You reached out but before you could take the small box, his hands covered your own and he let his thumb stroke your skin, sending a shiver up your arms and all around your neck. 

“You know I would never judge you, right?” He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “God knows you've never judged me. I’m here. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault.” 

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. ‘Not your fault.’ Did he know? There was no possible way. You had Fury burn your physiatric evaluation from when you first started a year ago. No one knew. This was a fresh start, and there way no way that- 

“I can see your mind turning, and I just want to assure you, we are good. Okay? You and me, that's easy. It’s always been that way. Whenever you're ready, if you ever want to talk… I’m here, alright? Always.” His voice melted over you like a warm bath, calming you as you met his gaze. There was a sweetness you haven't seen before. It was new and yet there was something familiar about it. Had he always looked at you that way? Surely you would have remembered as it sent butterflies to explode in your stomach. 

He dropped the rectabled box in your hands and you finally felt the weight of it. Definitely heavier than a necklace, though you guess that wasn't really Bucky’s style anyways. 

You slowly clicked the box open, your eyes falling on the small black object resting on the pillow inside. 

“It’s a knife?” You spoke, just above a whisper as your hands traveled over the cool metal looking up at Bucky in surprise. 

Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he explained. “Remember that mission a year back? I think it was one of our firsts.” 

“Vienna.” You chimed, the memory coming back to you now. 

“You stole my knife.” He laughed, shaking his head at the memory. “I remember, I had it in my hand, you ran out of ammo and in a flash it was in your hands. Those Hydra punks didn't see you coming. God, doll. That had to be the hottest-” He blushed, clearing his throat, “I mean, that was the coolest thing I've ever seen. Been trying to find you one like it ever since.”

“Oh, Buck.” You signed, gripping the knife in your hands and effortlessly flipping it through your fingers as it sparkled in the dim lighting. 

“Do you like it?” He hummed. 

“Like it? I absolutely love it… I feel like such an ass for not getting you anything.” You confessed, averting your eyes to the floor. 

You flinched as Bucky’s cool metal fingers tipped your head up, and he tried not to notice, though the reaction wasn't lost on him. He really didn't know about your past, but trauma knew trauma. 

“Darling, this…” He motioned to you, “This is all I need for Christmas.” His voice was like honey in tea, warm and sweet and so smooth. 

“You flirt.” You giggled, shoving him playfully as you placed the knife back in its box and resting it on the coffee table.  

“I would never.” He sarcastically gasped, causing you to laugh at his dramatics. Bucky wasn't truly himself around the others, but you wished sometimes they could see his goofy side. Though it warmed your heart he reserved it for you. 

“What do you say? One more movie before we call it a night?” You asked, relaxing into his shoulder as you clicked through the options. Bucky’s silence caught your attention, pulling you back to his gaze. He stared at you as if startled by your words. 

“What?” You chuckled nervously, raising a brow when he didn't speak. 

“You're willinging requesting we watch a Christmas movie? Are you feeling okay?” He jested, lifting his flesh palm to your forehead as if to check your temperature. You swatted him away, rolling your eyes as you did so. 

“I’m fine. I just…” You watch him carefully as his laughter faded and he focused on you. “I never really thought I could enjoy Christmas. Someone stole that luxury away from me a very long time ago, but with you… With you it comes so easy. I know it must be hard, but you never let it show. I honestly can't tell you the last time I’ve properly laughed like that during the holidays. God, it's been years and yet here we are. You just pull it out of me.” 

Bucky smiled softly, holding his hands out for yours and you quickly accepted the gesture. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned pulling you into his chest as he hugged you. It was something that was very new, and yet just felt right. Like this was how your bodies were meant to be, fit together like puzzle pieces. 

“Doll, I’ll pull it out for you whenever you want.” He cooed, sarcasm lacing his words and your head fell back, laughter bubbling out of your chest. 

“God, I love you.” You finally got out, but as soon as the words left your lips you knew how impulsive you had been. Bucky stilled beside you but you kept your eyes trained on the ceiling above, terrified to meet his gaze. It wasn't a big deal, just two friends admiring each other. You knew, however if you were honest it was much more than that. Bucky felt it too. 

“Darling,” He murmured, so low you almost didn’t hear him. Your eyes slowly returned to his as your heart nearly jumped from your chest. “You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since Vienna. You’re it for me. Always have been, I think.” 

You stared at him for a moment, unsure of where your voice went as your mouth ran dry. 

“As if I even need to say it, I love you too.” 

Divider made by the wonderful @chrissquares 

Thank you 3000 to my amazing friends @cutie1365 and @sweeterthanthis for their endless support and constant grammatical corrections. I’d be forever dyslexic without you guys... (I kind of will I think, but ya’ll make it a hell of a lot easier on me)

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[some-serendipity-snail]

Dear Wormwood

There before the threshold I saw a brighter world beyond myself And in my hour of weakness You were there to see my courage fail For the years have been long And you have taught me well to sit and wait Planning without acting Steadily becoming what I hate

Pairing: Dengar x (Gender Neutral) Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Amnesia, Fluff

Summary: After Dengar’s near-fatal accident, he’s not been the same man you remember. Read below the cut!

How it had happened was a mystery to you. To both of you, considering that he had forgotten anything about the event at all. In fact, he had forgotten a lot. He had forgotten the dangerous job he’d taken on, how reckless his experimental tactics had been, where he’d left his holopad, and most notably-- you.

You terrified him when he woke up. He had jolted awake, instinctively making an attempt to snatch one of his blasters from his hip. Only to realize he could not move. Dengar had sunk his teeth into a slab of meat far too big and tough to take a bite of. You’d tried to warn him, said the job didn’t sound safe, that he should reconsider. He had merely answered your worries with a pat to the head and a “bah, been on harder jobs!” 

That had been months ago.

Between then and now, he had gradually regained his strength and his mobility. However, the scars were stubborn, many of his limbs had required cybernetic replacement or assistance. Dengar had accepted the fact that you were here to help him, he was friendly toward you again. But he did not remember you. For what medicine could remedy a wound so invisible, intangible? Every day seemed to get more difficult to concede with the fact that he might never remember, but you had to keep trying. For him. Presently, the source of this complicated mess of emotions sat idly stirring a spoon in a mug of caf he’d made for himself. He was quite proud of it, he’d been unable to do even the most menial of tasks for far longer than he was comfortable with. He had been so dejected for so long, it melted you to see him smiling crookedly down at the dark liquid. Feeling your gaze on him, Dengar flicked his ocean gaze to you and snorted.

“What?”

You mirrored that snarky smile of his, rolling your eyes. Although he didn’t quite remember why you were here, and why you cared so much about his healing, he did seem to understand that you didn’t mind his stupid puns and smoldering humor. He liked to flirt with you, but couldn’t see just how bittersweet and melancholy it made you. He saw you, he enjoyed your company. But that creeping, incessant, obnoxious nagging swelled in the depths of your mind with the meagerest smile. You could never share those wordless, sidelong glances the two of you shared when the sun had sunk low in the sky, painting the world a technicolor dreamscape, full of tender emotion. He could never understand the jokes you’d coined together, the words that could send both of you into hysterics based on a moment so brief, you were surprised sometimes that you could even recall it. You weren’t even sure if you could rekindle the fire that had once been there. He was a shell of the man he had been. He didn’t joke or laugh as much as he used to. He didn’t hum under his breath when he thought he was alone. He no longer drummed his fingers along the windowsill, rambling to you about all the things he wanted to do when he got the money. You might never hear another one of his poems, scribbled down on a discarded piece of flimsi. To see him so sullen and lost; it tore you apart.

“How’s the caf?”

“Ehh, nothin’ special,” as he muttered his reply, a hand reached up to subconsciously tug at the bandages wrapped around his skull. He’d been doing that a lot lately. He missed his hair. You’d assured him it would grow back in due time, but he wasn’t convinced. As he brought his hand back down, his muscles spasmed briefly, causing the machinery in his new hand to knock the cup of caf out of his other hand.

Both of you scrambled to catch it, he ended up grabbing the mug by the handle, his fist balled aggressively around it. Looking from the mug to you, his eyes were wide as his expression of shock shifted to a relieved sort of laugh. He chuckled and shook his head, moving to set the mug on the table. But his metal grip must have been too tight because the cup’s handle shattered in his grip. You gasped in shock, his smile faltered. The glass, broken off of its handle, clattered to the floor, the hot liquid splattering onto the tile. He didn’t even say anything, just hung his head in his hands, his elbows rested on the table. Cursing under his breath, his shoulders slumped and shook, a noise emitting from his chest. For a moment, you thought he was crying. Concerned, you approached him, stepping cautiously over the broken pieces and the spilled beverage. But you soon realized he was laughing. Somehow, that only increased your worry. Gently, you placed a hand on his back, rubbing it in slow circles. You tried a small smile, hoping to keep his hopes up.

“Ah, didn’t much like that mug anyway.” “You’re wasting your time with me, y’know?”

Taken aback, your rubbing abruptly stopped as you stared down at him. He did not meet your gaze. Furrowing your brows, you scoffed at that comment.

“Why? Because you dropped a cup? I’m a lot clumsier than-” “Pretty person like you could be anywhere you want and instead, you’re choosin’ to sit here with a trainwreck. I think it’s time you think about leavin’.”

An emotion you couldn’t quite place stirred in your belly as you glared at him. You knew he was just upset, that he didn’t know what he was saying. To him, you were just some good-hearted friend that pitied his horrible condition. But he was regaining his strength. Maybe he wanted to be alone. But you- you didn’t want that to be the end of it. You sat in the chair across from the one he occupied. Crossing your arms over your chest, you firmly shook your head, refusing his implications.

“Nope, not leaving you.”

There was anger, unbridled rage in those sky blue eyes of his as he lifted his head to meet your glowering. But behind that, there were tears. Almost immediately, your persona crumbled. Reaching out to him, he recoiled with a grimace.

“You never do listen, do you? I don’t need your help- never did, love.”

Standing, he seemed to be making his way toward the door. It wasn’t the first time he’d stormed out like this, but he’d never said anything like that to you before. He’d never shown you any hostility- not like this. You were dumbstruck, had to take a moment to process what had just happened. As soon as you came back to your senses, you chased after him. Of course, you caught up to him easily. He was still getting used to all those new limbs of his after all. Placing yourself between Dengar and the door, you huffed indignantly, he flashed you a look, growling in aggravation. What in hells was going on with him? Where was he even trying to go?

“Stop! Where- what are you trying to do?”

“If you’re not gonna leave, I will,” Dengar assured, snatching a blaster from one of the nearby shelves. “And you are gonna stay out of my way, got that?”

“Absolutely not. You need to stay here, with me.”

“Why’s that? Y’think I’m weak, dontcha? Sorry to break it to you, darling. But I ain’t weak.”

“I didn’t say that!” You were clearly exasperated, throwing your hands up in the air.

“Then what is it, huh? There’s gotta be some reason. Y’just feel bad for me? Ohh poor old Dengar, so sad and lonely, poor Dengar. Some kicked puppy you make me out to be.” There was venom in his tone, his lilting tone mocked your voice as he batted his lashes and clasped his hands together. His brow knitted together, regarding you with a pained kind of distaste.

“No it’s- I can’t- Dengar, you know I care about you!” “Do you?” he was feigning false understanding.

Before you could even try to say anything else, he was already pushing past you with an acquired strength you didn’t even know he’d had in him. He shoved you out of his way, but you grabbed his arm. Snapping his head to look at your hand, then at you, he wrenched it off. But you just grabbed him with your other hand. Taking him by both his shoulders, it just slipped.

“I love you, Dengar!”

Both of you were equally as shocked. Jaw slack, he stared, skeptical. Not knowing what to do, you pulled him closer to you and closed the distance between you both. When your lips met his, he wasn’t fighting it. Your mouth remembered the feel of his, you’d longed for it. You could have burst into tears right then, savoring this stupid moment of impulse. Dengar was stiff for what felt like forever. But then, you felt his hands rest on your hips. He slowly gave in, eventually returning your kiss. You gently pressed him against the wall behind him, tilting your head to deepen the embrace. His arms wrapped around you now, the kiss becoming much more heated and passionate. All those pent-up emotions- on both sides- poured out, spilling into each other with every movement. The world disappeared. Everything, all the fear, and the panic, and the heartache; it went away for just this short sliver of time. And for the first time in a long time, you thought maybe there was hope. Maybe he would remember you. Remember all the things you promised you would do together. Remember how extravagant he wanted your wedding to be, how absolutely sloshed he was planning on getting. How he’d have to ask one of the boys to be his best man. Remember the family he’d stayed up all night many cycles ago to tell you he wanted to start with you. All the plants he planned on filling the apartment with.

Feeling him pull away, you did the same. You were pulled back to the present, and realized now that he likely wouldn’t react in the happiest manner. But as you gazed into his eyes, his expression was tender, the tears had returned, pricking at the corner of those gorgeous eyes of his eyes. He reached out to cup your cheek in one of his palms, his voice choked as he murmured to you.

“I know who you are, now…”