#Please go watch Ms. Marvel instead it's great.

[aegisgrey]

I need to scream about the Kenobi show and well what else is tumblr for.

I’m not happy lads. Long post and spoiler warning.

I’m really not sure why I kept watching it. I think it’s because I felt a sense of obligation to see this one out because like, I don’t know I guess this felt like a last chance for Disney Star Wars for me. Book of Boba Fett was a wildly mixed bag of weird mostly for the worse of the overall storyline we seem to be getting, but more to the point doing a show about the time Kenobi is hanging out on tatooine felt like such a blatant, souless cash grab of a show concept, I guess I just wanted to see if they actually had inspiration for a character study.

They did not.

Ok, let’s just get started with the things this show does well so I can maintain a nuance of fairness before I fire the death star into this thing.

The Leia stuff is good. The Leia Obi-wan stuff is good. Does it in any way inform my overall view of the main saga films and characters in the same way Rogue One managed to do? Absolutely not. It’s cute it’s fluffy and it’s fun. The child actor for Leia does a remarkable job considering her age and Leia gets a lot of the best lines. It does nothing to develop the characters meaningfully, it doesn’t really attempt to. It’s there to make you go aw and it works.

Reva is an interesting idea played by a compelling actress. Moses Ingram carries on the proud tradition of phenomenal star wars actors attempting to breath life into garbage dialog and characterization, and when she’s given literally anything to work with, the character feels like they are from a different, better show. She is not given much to work with.

OK here we go. I’m gonna go through my points starting with the most basic problems that feed into the nuances of why this show makes me want to drive down to burbank and stage a coup.

1. The writing is bad.

It’s really, really bad. It’s embarrassingly bad. It’s Rise of Skywalker bad at points. This script feels like a low effort fan fic someone made casually on a friday afternoon.

What do I mean by that? Well let’s break it down into a few sections so I can talk about the core issues here.

a) The plot makes no goddamn sense.

The wheels that have to spin here to simultaneously bring you all those sweet sweet cameos and character interactions you pay your D+ subscription to see are kicking up so much mud, you can no longer even see what you paid for. One of the biggest issues is that this series has absolutely no choice except to end more or less exactly where it begins. Nothing can happen in this plot and we the audience know that. Star Wars is huge. This show could have been about anything. But instead it’s centered around the skywalker twins and Obi wan and Darth vader and the grand inquisitor NONE OF THESE PEOPLE CAN DIE AND ANY VIEWER KNOWS THAT.

This story is built on the idea that Obi-Wan has trauma from Vader’s fall and that’s blocking him off from the force. While I buy the trauma fine the idea that it cuts him off from the force actively contradicts any other version of the character from this time period we have ever seen. In fact Obi-Wan is canonically (this is DISNEY CANON I’m not using legends) at his strongest after Vader falls in large part because he’s closed himself off so completely from his emotions that he’s lethally focused and driven. This is the same man who will one-shot Maul shortly after the events of the series, and beat Vader in the climactic event of the prequel trilogy.

I realize this might sound like I’m just some anime nerd complaining about power scaling but that’s really not my issue, star wars has perpetually had bizarre power scaling that makes very little sense this isn’t new. My issue is that they essentially invented this version of Obi-Wan. We have nothing to show us why exactly it got so bad on Tatooine and the series DOES NOT SHOW US. 

Later on, he overcomes this and once again we are given incredibly little information as to WHY he is suddenly better out side of the power of love and friendship which is a WILD interpretation of Obi-Wan as a character. See above. This show seems to think Obi-Wan is this like, nice polite loving figure who’s never done anything wrong in his life and not THE LITERAL REASON THAT DARTH VADER EXISTS AT ALL.

And THAT is what this show fundamentally misses in it’s very premise, right out the gate before it ever starts. This show thinks Obi-Wan is Right and Good and has Feelings about how he failed Vader, and that’s a fundamental misunderstanding of the source material this is desperately riding a unicycle while juggling around.  Obi-Wan is a Flawed Mentor who doesn’t understand that he played a huge role in Vader’s fall. He is not a Good Person. Luke is a Good Person and he actively does not do what Obi-wan told him to do and that LITERALLY SAVES THE GALAXY AND THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT. This show had the chance to dive into the depths of a deeply troubled and flawed space wizard and it turned him into a fluffy marshmellow. Obi-wan in every other incarnation we have including the literal children’s cartoon is a hypocritical, conniving, scheming, preachy, arrogant, and even narcissistic dude and he’s literally one of my favorite characters in any media BECAUSE OF THESE FLAWS. I’m not saying Obi-wan is always a bastard he’s not at all and a portrayal of him as a purely bad dude would be just as wrong but you can’t just wipe away all the things that make Obi-Wan a flawed Jedi or the story just does not work.

b) The Fake Out Deaths

This show has an obscene amount of this. I would be offended by how many fake out deaths there are if I didn’t already know that all the characters survive. The fact that I do makes it nearly unbearable. The worst example of this is the grand inquisitor who literally serves no purpose in this show and could have been removed entirely and nothing would have changed. Reva is a close second because while her final appearances do a lot to help the character it’s frankly absurd that she’s survived Vader like 3 times at this point and manages to carry a child across the desert with a hole in her spine. The violence in this show is bizzare and doesn’t add up and continually contradicts itself. There’s not much more to say about this but if the writers are expecting me to feel tension because obi wan might have died under all those rocks I don’t know what the hell they think I’ve been watching all these years. They kill off exactly two named characters in this show. Both are characters we have never seen before. One is literally only named so he can be killed off (Rip my man Wade you were my favorite character) and this is treated with weight in the shows narrative. We spend more time mourning Wade than Wade gets on camera screentime.

c) The dialogue

It’s a spiritual successor to the prequels I don’t know what I expected but this feels more like Rise of Skywalker than prequels. A lot the interactions are bizzare. Reva gets such rotten lines I genuinely feel so bad for the actress who’s clearly working this as best she can. Some of the stuff in her leia interrogation is somehow palpatine has returned levels of cringe. Her arc is genuinely interesting it’s just horrendously served by her actual lines. Vader has either great lines or terrible ones no in between and they are actively worse around Reva because of the weird plot armor around her character that tbh doesn’t need to be there because you could have just written things so that she doesn’t fuck up around vader and then not die so much.

So yeah pretty much everything this show does on it’s own doesn’t work very well outside of just having Obi-wan and Leia be cute. I’ll balance that by saying that when they do good Vader lines they do REALLY good Vader lines, I’ll give them that. Obi-Wan gets absolutely no new material to work with outside the Leia stuff that’s good even if Ewan is great as always. In fact he has surprisingly few actual lines period, considering the show is named after him. I’m serious look for places where he’s not talking about someone else but reflecting what he’s actually doing and feeling and going through. For a show that’s ostensibly a character study there is very little study of his character.

2. Everything that’s good comes from something else.

The level of self plagiarism  this show is genuinely bizarre I don’t even know what to make of it. The Inquisitor fortress and obi-wan vader fight are literally lifted directly out of other media. Jedi Fallen Order has the exact same inquisitor fortress, which is broken into the exact same way, and features the exact same hallway breaking. It’s wild. And frankly, Reva is just second sister done worse. The vader obi-wan fight, arguably the highlight of this show, is also lifted directly from Rebels to the point where VADER’S HELMET BREAKS IN THE EXACT SAME PLACE. It’s genuinely embarrassing and I don’t know how they think people won’t notice this, and more to the point it proves that this show has absolutely nothing new to bring to the table. No new perspective on vader or obi-wan, no new and interesting characters, absolutely nothing we don’t already have in a better version.

3. Oh dear god what happened to Deborah Chow’s direction.

Here’s the thing. Deborah Chow is not a bad director. We know this because her mandalorian episodes are some of the best in the whole show. I was genuinely interested to see what she did with this show. The thing is: This show literally feels like it was directed by a different person.

If I am up to it maybe I will do a full scene breakdown of something from this and something from mando to showcase what I mean but all I need to say for this is that the way this is shot, the way scene’s are set and characters are followed and action is portrayed and environments are built is Terrible. The most egregious examples include: Leia outrunning four adults who are clearly slowling themselves down in full view of the camera, overuse of dark environments at critical moments in the action, Obi-wan hacking a fence while a clear way around the fence is VISIBLE IN THE BACKGROUND. The firepit that vader is suddenly barred by despite him controlling it moments before. The second ship leaving despite him stopping another ship moments before. The trench-coat. My god the trench-coat. The rebel ship with shields that can apparently withstand a star destroyer for hours. It’s immensely sloppy. There are moments where this show looks like a youtube fan project and I really am not exaggerating. Some of these shots shouldn’t have been in any final product a major media company is putting out. The dialogue is all talking heads, the action is shaky cam with no sense of environment or space building. This is the sloppiest cgi and effects work in any star wars media I’m aware of. The direction is just fundamentally terrible in ways I would expect any film maker with Chow’s resume to catch and I have no idea what the hell happened because once again, we KNOW she can do great stuff. I’m flabbergasted. Out of all the flaws of this show, this is the one I find the most inexcusable. I expected the script to be a mess, I was surprised by the self plagiarism, I am shocked and horrified by the poor directing and production on this show. I don’t even know who to blame for it. I sense meddling here but I have no idea what kind or to what degree.

4. The Anti-Clone wars.

The Clone Wars cartoon is much beloved because of all the ways in which it expanded on and breathed life into the characters of the prequel era. I would argue it single-handedly saved Anakin as a character. This show not only makes Obi-Wan a worse character by removing all of the attributes needed for drama and for the events of a New Hope to happen, but actively contradicts everything that happens in the OT. Obi-Wan’s insistence that Luke destroy Vader is now borderline insane considering he let Vader go on purpose this time. The organa’s apparently have obi on speed dial and just forgot to give him a transmitter when he shows up again, completely unnecessarily and wildly out of character. Leia having no reaction to his death in a New Hope is now extremely weird. Vader not realizing Leia is his kid is literally impossible in the events of this show.

Clone Wars gave us much needed character and theme development for the prequel era. This show actively undercuts theming, character arcs, and basic plot structure with wanton abandon.

Final thoughts:

There are any number of individual scenes you can tear apart in this show. I could type pages more material about how awful the directing is alone.

This is technically a review so here’s a score: I’m giving this show five dumpsters full of copies of Jedi Fallen Order and Rebels dvd’s, set on fire by Darth Vader himself so that Obi-Wan can escape to better media.

[minasummersch]

papyrus & jasmine (but I kinda wanna change the latter part of the Q to "and would recommend to anyone" if that's alright!)

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

I've talked about this when I last answered this question here, but I don't have an 'on repeat' playlist. I'll link a song from my 'liked videos' playlist on youtube for you instead!

I am not sure I could even begin to explain this video tbh. I really like Gilmore Girls and something about the combination of Rory with Taylor Swift songs is fucking immaculate.

And here I'll also link a song I've had on repeat over the last week for you!

This is the first full song Nino sings in the Anonymous Noise anime/manga. Something about how messy it sounds really stuck with me and I am just living for these vibes. I know rock music totally plays against the aesthetic I have going but I want so badly to one day sing this song.

jasmine ⇢ do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again? and would recommend to anyone?

Oh boy! I have a long, long list of books, movies, tv shows, anime, manga, and light novels that I toss around as recommendations to friends. I usually like to tailor my reccs based on what I know people like but since I'm not entirely sure about your tastes I'll give a few of the ones I know most poeple enjoy.

Oscar (1991): a movie with Sylvester Stalone and it's a comedy so you really can't go wrong with this

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun: either the manga or anime, both are amazing imo and the comedy is unparalleled

Summertime Rendering: honestly the best mystery manga I've ever read and it got a boppin anime adaptation just this year, go in with as few spoilers as possible

Pandora Hearts: please read this manga, if not for the plot then just for the art because Mochizuki Jun improves so much over the course of this series and it's absolutely stunning

86 eighty-six: watch the anime and if you're feeling it read the light novel or just wait it out for a second season because this will definitely get one

2.43 Seiin Koukou Danshi Volleyball: okay so I know this is the less popular volleyball anime but I like this one more

IDOLiSH7: i love these idol boys and this is the best idol game turned anime adaptation out there I think

IDOLY PRIDE: the other really awesome idol anime, I love this more than words can say and it's just a good time all around

Ao no Exorcist: read the manga and just avoid the anime please, the manga is much better

Fruits Basket: I watched the 2019 series and I didn't know what I was getting into at all but damn it was worth it, this anime is perfect

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru: I clearly like a lot of sports anime lol, but nah this one is good and has like warm and fuzzy friendship vibes but an older cast so it's a bit more serious

Kono Oto Tomare: music anime about a traditional Japanese instrument with great friendship and romance, I loved this so much that I bought the CD and I will one day play it for my wedding

Ya Boy Kongming: it's got great music and is hilarious, you could not ask for more imo

The Raven Boys: this was a fun time to read, like it had friendship and romance and all that teenage angst but also treasure hunting and supernatural powers

Percy Jackson: someone has probably already recced this tbh

All Our Yesterdays: the only valid time travel novel imo

Here Lies Daniel Tate: there's murder, there's mystery, what more could you want lol

The Devil is A Part-timer: watch season 1 of the anime and if you want to continue past that hit me up because things get messy and your enjoyment will depend on which character was your fave

The Last Fallen Star: a korean mythology middle grade novel

Into The Spiderverse: do I need to say more lol

The Good Place: again a comedy tv show, I do love comedy

Gilmore Girls: this is honestly a fascinating study in character development and writing

Ms Marvel: as a pakistani muslim this tv show was a mood in many ways

And there you have it! A very extensive list of media for you to check out! If you want to talk more about any of these and/or want more reccs join my discord server and feel free to scream in there! I am always ready to talk about fandoms and series I love but there's not enough people around lol

Thank you for the question! Feel free to check out my other answers under the tag mina answers! on my blog!

[hela-avenger]

To the Stars Who Listen- Part 5

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1507

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: Thanks for all the love everyone! I’m happy you’re liking my fic! Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)

TTSWL Masterlist

The moment Steve lands at the facility, Loki practically runs inside. It was as if he expected to be dragged back to the tower if he hesitated for even a moment. You watch him and he seemed pleased enough in what he encountered. You turn away when Steve finds you still lingering in the back. He takes your bag from your hand and motions you to walk with him.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you sigh out. “It just feels weird to be back to square one, you know? I worked so hard to get where I am and now I have to go back to training wheels. It’s not really fair.”

Steve offers you a sympathetic smile.

“You’ll be back with us before you know it,” he assures you. “And if Loki is to be trusted, which I’ll admit is a hard thing for me to do, you’ll come out of this stronger than ever.”

“I was already strong before,” you sigh. “I was doing fine. Sure, I didn’t have some super soldier serum or a powerful suit, but I was fighting alongside you so that speaks for itself.”

“Y/N…”

“Steve just…” you whisper in resignation. “I was happy being normal and now… now, I’m not. I haven’t really gotten a chance to wrap my head around that everything has completely changed.”

“I understand,” Steve breathes out. “Things just happen in life, Y/N. They may be good, most times it’s bad, and it’s up to us to figure out how to deal with it. I know you have it in you to make the best out of this situation.”  

Steve stops at the door of your room and hands you your bag back. Your hand lingers on his as the request comes swiftly into your mind.

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

Steve nods, “Anything.”

“I’m going to try my best to gain control of this power but if I can’t, then I want it out of me.”

“That could kill you.”

“Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good,” you tell him. “You out of everyone should know. You did the same thing years ago.”

“And you know what that cost me.”

Indeed you did. He had told you about it some time ago. Trusted you with this information he kept close.

Steve had lost his comrades, the love of his life, and skipped 70 years into the future and though you wouldn’t have the same repercussions he had, you found the conclusion albeit still alarming.

“If I hurt someone, Steve… If I end up on the wrong side of things where I become the enemy… I don’t know if I could live with myself if I could have prevented it to begin with.”

Steve hesitates but he must see the deep desperation in your eyes.

“I’ll look into it,” Steve sighs. “And if that day comes… Just know, I’ll find another way to save you. I don’t care what it takes.”

You knew Steve to be stubborn so you allowed him this small victory. You release your hand from his and take your bag. Steve is quick to pull you into a hug and you allow yourself the small comfort.

“The next time I see you better be on a good note,” Steve chuckles into your ear. “I know you can beat this, Y/N. Don’t give up before it even starts.”

You nod and force yourself to let him go. He offers you one last encouraging smile before finally turning and walking away.

Your quiet solemn moment is disrupted by a dark chuckle that appears suddenly in front of you.

“That was agonizing to watch,” Loki mutters. “I think our innocent Captain was expecting a kiss out of it.”

“We’re just friends,” you respond glaring at the God that leaned against the door frame of his room which conveniently resided right in front of yours.

“Are you sure?” Loki grins. “I don’t think you’re being completely honest at this moment.”

“And I think you’re spinning lies out of nowhere so you can incite drama because you find yourself bored.”

Loki doesn’t respond and you knew you had him. You turn away and open the door of your room. You don’t bother to turn the light on as you throw your bag inside. You make up your mind you’ll unpack and settle in later.

“Come on,” you call out to Loki. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”  

A highlight at being moved to the large and expansive Avengers Facility that laid out of the city is the people who resided there. You can’t help but laugh when you step into the dining room to find a Welcome Home banner hung up with Wanda and Vision at the head of a filled table. Bucky and Sam were there too but the serious scowl on their faces made it seem like they were unhappy with your arrival.

“You didn’t have to do all of that,” you tell Wanda as you hug her. “It hasn’t been that long since I’ve stayed here.”

“It’s been long enough,” Wanda states.

“Welcome home Agent Y/N,” Vision nods at you.

“Hello again, Viz.”

“We all heard about what happened,” Wanda speaks up. “Are you ok?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “But I will be once I get myself under control.”

Wanda squeezes your arm and you turn towards Bucky and Sam who haven’t moved to greet you. They remain rooted in place as they glared at your travel partner who remains in the outskirts of the room.

“Hey, stop that,” you nudge them. “He’s not a threat.”

“That’s not what Steve said,” Bucky mutters. “He said we needed to pay extra attention to him.”

“Yeah, emphasis on extra,” Sam adds.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it literally,” you argue.

“Better safe than sorry,” Sam responds.

You roll your eyes at them and turn to Loki instead.

“Loki, this is the rest of the team,” you introduce him vaguely. “Team, this is Loki.”

Wanda’s the only one to offer a small wave while everyone else remained silent. You understood why Vision was hesitant to step forward. Loki had once wielded the mind stone that was currently resting on his forehead. As for Bucky and Sam, they were just being overprotective by Steve’s warning.

“Alright, great start,” you mumble as you nod Loki forward. “Let’s just sit. They’ll get over the whole security threat thing once they realize you’re not going to do anything.”

“And what if I do step out of line?” Loki asks with a slight grin.

The question doesn’t go unheard as Bucky and Sam are quick to straighten up while Wanda lets out a heavy sigh. You set your plate down and turn towards the mischievous God.

“Bucky there,” you point out. “Has a metal arm and a variation of the super soldier serum running through his body. He’s also a very notorious assassin but we don’t talk about it.”

You then point towards Sam.

“Now Sam here, you might think he’s nothing special and in a way he isn’t…”

“Hey!”

You shoot Sam a pointed glare and he shuts up enough to allow you to continue.

“As I was saying, Sam may not be a super soldier, but he can sure fight like one and you won’t want to face him with his Falcon suit on. You won’t stand a chance if he catches you in the air.”

Loki takes in the information you offered and makes note of it. He knows better than to create enemies without knowing who they are and the threat they may impose on him.

“Now Wanda is a sweetheart,” you continue earning a smile from her. “But she can kick ass if she needs to and between you and me, I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side. She got her powers through the mind stone which allows her to do a lot of cool stuff. Telekinesis, telepathy, force fields, mental manipulation… The list goes on and on.”

You take a deep breath and then turn to Vision who’s still joining them on the table though he doesn’t need to eat dinner.

“Now Vision is the youngest of us all if you can believe it,” you tell Loki. “I still don’t understand the science of how he was made but basically he’s an android with a conscience. A robot with a heart of gold. Plus, he’s the self-appointed guardian of the mind stone and we all saw him wield Mjolnir though Thor refuses to admit it.”

Loki now realizes why his brother had been so easily convinced to allow him out of his sight. With this band of trainee heroes, Loki would be well supervised and beaten if he stepped out of line.

“Now that the introductions are out of the way, let’s eat.”

You eagerly begin to pile food on your plate passing the courses around. Everyone follows your lead easing into an amicable conversation. Loki simply sat back and drank the wine offered as he suddenly found himself with appetite lost. 

TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @is-it-madness @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @ariel-snow-tmnt @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck @country-cowgirl-101 @bepo-is-sorry

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @ariel-snow-tmnt @badhollandfluff​ @what-a-flammable-heart

[holycow99]

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 13

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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(t/n: ** means translation may not be accurate.)

C: Is Tonari no Young Jump an app?

I: It’s a website. It’s like Jump Plus. It’s not well-known. Choujin X is being serialised there. It’s in Tonari Young Jump. I wanna change the name… Why is it Tonari (neighbour)? Even though I’m doing this with so much pride for Tonari no Young Jump. Even though I’m prepared to work for Tonari Young Jump for the rest of my life. It’s just a neighbour?! It’s not even Young Jump. Young Jump is like a younger version of Jump. It’s still a Jump. It’s Jump’s neighbour. Is Tonari no Young Jump the neighbour of the neighbour of Jump, then? So, I wanna change the name into something cooler! Something like Crazy Jump. Hahaha! Doesn’t that sound marvellous? Crazy Jump. Miracle Crazy Jump.

C: CraJump.

I: Isn’t CraJump sounds nice? Hahaha!

C: In the end, it’s still Jump’s neighbour.

I: That’s true. If we remove Jump, it’ll only be crazy. Tonari no Crazy. That sounds a bit lame. Crazy Jump is better. Haha. Seriously, doesn’t it sounds good? I like that name. Crazy Jump. Hahaha! I wanna serialise my work in Crazy Jump! It’ll only have stories that are banned. It’s for the crazy people who have nowhere else to publish their works. Haha. There is such magazine. Do you know Garo magazine? But Garo isn’t one maybe. We do have Garo magazine, where the writers are kinda like nonconformists. This one’s gonna be like a revival of Garo. Crazy Jump! Where lunatics, and not mangaka, gather. The concept is ‘Welcome to the end of the world’. It’s not ‘Friendship, Effort, Victory’, but ‘Slaughter, Irrationality, Futility’. That’s the motto for Crazy Jump. I wanna think about this thoroughly. It’ll be about fear instead of dream. Slaughter will be the theme.

C: I really wanna read it.

I: I know right! Not a manga like this, instead, you wanna read that kind of magazine. “Welcome to the end of the world. This is the place for people who have given up on all kinds of entertainment.” This isn’t an entertainment anymore. It’s a harassment. Creative Harassment: Crazy Jump.

C: Are you gonna publish Choujin X there?

I: I wanna do it in Crazy Jump not Tonari no Young Jump. I wanna go against OPM. Which one is stronger? Tonari Jump’s OPM vs Crazy Jump’s Choujin X. Crazy Jump is definitely stronger. But Choujin X probably doesn’t fit the criterion for crazy Jump. It’s hard to publish it there. I want the Great Master, Egawa Tatsuya sensei to publish his work in Crazy Jump. I want One sensei in Crazy Jump too. OPM will stay in Tonari Jump, but I want One sensei to publish another work in Crazy Jump. I’ll be the chief editor. I’ll look for people and I have them publish their works there. As long as you’re crazy, you’re in. I’ll hire any nutcases who’re good at drawing.

(Egawa Tatsuya is a mangaka & film director. His known for his work ‘Golden Boy’.)

I: You guys are mistaken. I’m gonna do it for real. I’m seriously doing it. The characteristics that Crazy Jump’s looking for in a writer is firstly, someone who definitely won’t follow the deadlines, but upload a bunch in the spur of the moment. I want the magazine to be random. No one knows what stories are gonna be in the issue. There might be times where there are no stories at all. I want to make it a thrilling magazine. The drawings for the all the stories will be done outside the frame. Hahaha. I wanna create it!

C: Have Togashi sensei publish his work there.

I: That’s absolutely. Togashi sensei has high common sense, so I wanna take that away from him. Crazy Jump is only for lunatics. It’s for people with no common sense and those who doesn’t even realise they don’t have one. Do you understand what I’m saying?

C: The editors must be crazy too?

I: Hmm…It feels like the stupid vibe will be overused. Still, let’s make the figurehead editor wears only brief. Make Mr. Matsuo wears brief.

C: Even the readers are crazy.

I: Probably, only good-for-nothing people will read the magazine, so no. The writers probably hate their own readers. They’d say something like “I don’t wanna draw for this kind of people!”, “I only have cuckoos as my readers!”, etc. “A chain of hatred, welcome to Crazy Jump. That’s why fighting will never stop”. This is the concept.

C: This magazine will make somebody’s happy.

I: Hmm…Maybe it’s better to just gather people who’re good at drawing. Then, I’ll give them welfare payment since the magazine won’t sell. I’ll take care of them. They’re free to draw as they like and money will be given too as long as they make Crazy Jump crazy.

*Nobody’s gonna vote for the survey.

I: You have to vote for 3 series, right? What survey should I do? Pick 3 series that you wanna cancel and they’re gonna be cancelled for real.

C: Yomu Dokuyaku. (t/n: Op was referring to a book called Yomu Mayaku which literally translates as Read Drug. There’s no eng title for the book so I kept it in Japanese.)

I: Hahaha. Not Mayaku, but Dokuyaku (poison). That’s a good one. Yomu Dokuyaku. A poisonous disease. That’s Crazy Jump. I really wanna make Crazy Jump. I wanna read it. I’m gonna drag writers to the darkness. They’d be like “I wanna quit.”, “I started drawing because I wanna write manga like One piece!”, “I liked watching anime at first, I wanted to create a manga that’d become an anime one day. I thought I was able to achieve that.” This is how Crazy Jump’s gonna be. Let’s make a Crazy channel. We’ll broadcast the anime version there.

*Someone commented that Crazy Jump is the going to the opposite side of the classic approach in magazine.

I: It’s not even the opposite. It’s going nowhere. It’s not heading or moving towards anywhere. It’s not heading forward or backward. It sees and hears nothing. I want this kind of magazine to exist…The stories must be crazy. If they’re too crazy, the stories will be discontinued.  

C: Animal Rap can easily be serialised there.

I: Why? Animal Rap isn’t crazy at all. It’s totally NHK vibe. It’s even watchable for kids. Animal Rap has wholesome contents, you know? Everyone can watch it.

C: If I won a prize, I’ll report to you. (t/n: OP possibly referring to them winning manga award as they’re aiming to submit their work to Young Jump.)

I: You mean Crazy Jump’s Award? Crazy Jump has no award.

I: Now for the scouting part, I’d scout them like this, “Do you know about Crazy Jump? How about it? Do you have the courage to be crazy?”, “Would you like to serialised your work in Crazy Jump?”. All of these would be conversed through private message. It’d be a secret deal.

I: It’s time for me to scout people now. I wanna do that kind of business too, scouting business. I’ll gather any reckless youngsters, middle-aged men, and old men as well to work in Crazy Jump.

I: I wanna scout housewives too. I’ll make them write crazy mangas. Isn’t that a totally good idea? A housewife writing a crazy manga. In between taking care of children and doing chores, they write such manga. It’ll be a profound work. We need to unseal the hidden craziness lies within housewives.

I: Don’t you feel intrigued by it? You’d be shocked if people who are close to you or someone who you sympathises with create something crazy. The smiling old man that you often see is actually writing such insane manga. What’d your reaction be? You might think he’s lunatic.

I: Crazy Jump will even scout the readers since there’s always be a shortage in human resources.

C: Will I get scouted if I sent an eccentric letter to Crazy Jump’s editor?

I: No, you can’t. Insane people don’t realise that they’re insane. Those who can judge that they’re crazy can be external employees. It’s time for geniuses to step aside. This magazine will only be for madmen. Every writer is a lunatic.

*He’s taking about what if it’s Criminal Jump instead of Crazy Jump?

I: Aren’t you interested to know what kind of stories the magazine would have if all the writers were criminals. They might write heartwarming or fantasy genres. If they did that, you’d have some sort of love-hate relationship with the authors.

I: If Criminal Jump was issued, people would start commit crimes just to have their work serialised in the magazine. That’d be another problem. Suddenly, people would start killing others because they wanted to be like the authors in Criminal Jump. This is definitely a bad idea. Crime is a big no-no. Crazy Jump is the coolest, after all.

C: The heroine definitely dies in Crazy Jump.

I: I wonder… She’ll die when it’s time. Let’s make clams as heroines. Ms. Clam. There’s no explanation for that. This way, the heroines won’t die. (t/n: He really did say clam as in the food clam.)

I: But to create a true mad story, it has to be natural. The story for every heroine will be about reincarnation every time. Ultimately, the stories will be about reincarnation. The story will start off normally, but it’ll end with the protagonist getting reincarnated.

*He continued expanding the reincarnation ideas.

I: If every ending will have a reincarnation setting, then it’s gonna be a common concept and not abnormal anymore. Everyone will expect the same ending. But I wanna try writing that kind of story as a mangaka. I wanna try write it once. On the other hand, when there’s no reincarnation happened in the stories, people would start wondering.

*Ishida mentioned TG.

I: I realised TG was a bit crazy when I reread it. I conceitedly told few people that they had few loose screws in the head. Seemed like I was the same too.  It was fun reading it after a long time. It kinda had a crazy vibe.

C: How about making the stories use coined/new words, but they never explain what the words mean till the end?

I: Hmm… That’s considered as crazy in a way. Final fantasy 13 did that kind of stuffs, with the term ‘falcie’ and all. It was quite a rumour. I didn’t play it though.

C: The Falcie’s Lacie purge Cocoon. (referring to FF13.)

I: You’d maybe understand what they mean if you played the game. Rather than crazy, the game was just being not user friendly. It’d be better if they slowly explained what the words meant throughout the game.

I: Everyone must be tired already. Should we stop talking about Crazy Jump now?

C: Has your work progressed?

I: I don’t know. Is it?

*Reading comments.

C: Aren’t you gonna sleep?

I: I woke up at wrong hours. So, I’m still not sleepy.

I: Should we end the stream? I’m already satisfied. Let’s end it.

C: In the end, what are we gonna do for 30,000 subscribers’ commemoration?

I: The most likely one would be a ‘Thank you’ video. I’ll just scream “Thank you!’.

C: Are you satisfied now?

I: Yeah.

I: It’s been a long time since I streamed, so I got carried away. Okay then. Thank you. Who just joined in, please watch it in the archive. I’m gonna upload Animal Rap. Thank you.

Part 1

[lou-makes-me-strong]

Hey! When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! Then, send to your last ten people in your notifs. You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity :)

Thanks! Ok, 5 things that make me happy! Uhh I feel awkward sending things to people that I don’t talk to, so if you see this and want to do it, then do it! I can even send you an ask with the prompt if you wanna answer it like that! Just me know, :)

1) Getting out of my house is great! I love aquarium! Also zoos! They’re fantastic! I love animals! (I constantly question why I’m doing theater instead of working with animals for a living)I’m about to go to an aquarium with one of my friends and I’m super hyped! We’re gonna see so many fish and pet so many stingrays! It’s gonna be lit!

2) painting! Painting is something that usually makes me really happy. Sometimes it can be stressful when I have to paint and have no motivation or if I want to paint but don’t know what, but I still love it. I’m a scenic artist for theater, so it’s what I do for a living(so I guess it’s good that I love it). A few summers ago we did Mamma Mia and I painted a 40 foot by 20 foot backdrop for it almost entirely by myself. That’s was a challenge but it turned out pretty awesome! And I’ve just got to do some other really fun things that I wouldn’t get to do normally thanks to working in scenery. I also do just do like normal painter things too. I’m working on a series for myself that’s panels from Matt Fractions Hawkeye comics.

3) aside from scenic art stuff, just art in general. Im a studio art minor at school with a focus in 3D art. I really a joy ceramics and have been getting more into sculpture stuff! Im pretty good at hand sculpting, but I wish I was better at throwing on a wheel. I’m taking an upper level ceramics class next semester so hopefully I’ll get to practice that. But working with clay is one of my favorite things!

4) and I feel like I should mention nerd stuff. I love nerd stuff! I love marvel comics and some of the MCU stuff. Loki is one of my favorite characters in the comics and MCU(then Agent of Asgard Loki comics are like my favorite thing). And I feel like I can’t say I like loki without mentioning him being canonically bi in the MCU. He’s already bi in the comics which is amazing. But I never thought they’d actually put lgbt rep in the MCU(im not counting endgame that was the bare minimum and it meant nothing). I was so happy about that I cried(I am also bi). They just mentioned it so casually, i just was not ready for it and i was just crying in a corner at 4am about it. I also love the young avengers comics(Wiccan, hulking, and speed are great), the hawkeye comics(Kate and Clint are amazing), iron man(I love the movies, but haven’t read as many of his comics), The New Mutants comics(Sunspot and Cannonball are my favorites), Ms. Marvel(Kamala is incredible and everybody should read her comics)!They’re just good and make me so happy. I also have a marvel side blog @lowkeymarveladdict if anybody wants to follow me there.

5) more nerd stuff! D&D is cool. I’m in my first game with some friends rn and it’s been really fun! We’re playing Tomb of Annihilation. We haven’t played in a while and we aren’t very far in the campaign bc people are difficult, but I can’t wait to play more. My character is a water genasi Druid and they have a hellhoud puppy and I love them. I also love to watch/listen to actual play shows. Dimension 20 and NADDPOD are so so good and everybody should go watch/listen to those! I’m also about to DM my first campaign. It a big home brew thing and I’m excited but also kinda terrified bc talking is difficult and I’m full of anxiety all of the time. But I have a lot of cool ideas and I can’t wait for my friends to try and fight me in a Denny’s parking lot

[anotheronechicagobog]

Yeah, I Would Part 2/Final Peter Mills x reader

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

warnings: swearing, mention of corruption, slightly Erin bashing, canon compliant bombing/accident

You arrived at the diner, taking a deep breath. You spotted Peter working the grill and talking to a man who was sitting at the counter, the detective Peter had told you about presumably. “What’s up buttercup?”

“Not much hummingbird. Gumbo and a milkshake?”

“Please.”

“What kind?”

“Surprise me, I trust you.”

“Ha, good to know. Before I get started on that, this is Antonio Dawson, the detective. He’s good, you can trust him, okay? I’ll be back with your food in a sec okay?” He kissed your hair, gave you an encouraging dimpled smile, and then left you with Dawson. “Hi, it’s good to meet you. So you’re the guy investigating my dad?”

“Yes, Ms. Voight and I-”

“It’s Y/L/N, actually. I took my mom’s name when I turned eighteen.”

“Alright, Ms. Y/L/N, I don’t know exactly what Mills told you, but I have been investigating your dad and I need to talk to you about that, and you can’t tell him.”

“My dad is corrupt. Dirty. There’s not enough time in the day to talk about it. But still, I was raised by a cop and a social studies teacher, so one thing I learned very early on in life is that evidence is key. So, here,” you handed him a Hello Kitty flashdrive that you’d kept in your bra, he took it very gingerly, clearly uncomfortable with where it was placed, “I started collecting evidence on my dad once I figured out what he was doing. And every piece of it is on that drive. It’s not the original, and I have multiple other spares, but there’s years of photo and video evidence as well as scanned copies of documents and written statements from me on there. If you need stuff in hard copy I can give it to you before the trial, if it even gets there, because I want to make sure this sticks.”

“Okay, thank you for your time. I’ll leave you with your food. Here’s my card, I’ll be in contact.”

“Of course, have a good night.”

“Here you go, let’s move to this booth over here.” Peter unloaded a tray of Gumbo and milkshakes onto the table on the booth behind you. “You ready to dig in?”

“Oh absolutely.” He held off on asking until you’d gotten a few bites of food and slurps of milkshake in because he knew you got drained just thinking about your family. “How’d it go?”

“Good. At least I think it went well.”

“And how’s the food.”

“Incredible, but it always is.”

“Only the best for you hummingbird.”

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

A few days later you walked behind Mills over to the rest of 51. You were a bit skeptical, you didn’t think that a picnic was cause for wearing celebratory blues, but hey, you weren’t a firefighter. You were, however, proven right when you walked over to a picnic table with about six guys laughing their asses off. “I can’t believe you actually did it candidate!” 

“You look ridiculous!”

“Really? Cause I don’t think so.” The men you’d had yet to be introduced to watched as you pulled your boyfriend down into a full-on liplock. You bit your lip as Peter coughed, a little dazed, and you marvelled that you had that effect on him. “Uh, well, hi. I uh. My name is Brian Zvonecek but everyone calls me Otis. And who are you, exactly?”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, Peter’s girlfriend.”

“Peter did not tell you about us, we would remember if he had- uh, Joe Cruz by the way. No nickname, just Joe.”

“Capp”

“Tony.”

“Kelly.”

“Matt.”

“Well, hi, everyone. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry that didn’t happen sooner, but I thought it might be best if Peter found his footing with you guys first and then I had to work out of the country for a bit.”

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you. You should introduce her to the chief Mills.”

And so he did. Along with Mouch and Hermann, the chief teased him for the blues before congratulating him on snagging a great girl. Cindy was lovely, just as sweet as her brownies. The day was going really well, even with the tension Gabby was creating with just about everyone. She was basically drooling over Matt and literally everyone was noticing, and for some reason, she was acting particularly cold towards you. But all in all, the day was a success, especially since it ended with the arrest of your dad, brother, and sister.

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

Erin was glaring at you so hard that you were thankful Antonio had gotten a freelance security detail hired for you. As it turned out, since a lot of the evidence you had was about your dad covering up the shit your siblings did, that they were in violation of the law as well. Part of you felt bad for Erin, she had worked really hard to get where she was. Yes, she made some mistakes when she was younger, but most of that was due to her mother’s neglect or influence, which you made sure to tell the court, but she still looked like she was planning your murder. “Be grateful detective Lindsay, you’d be going to prison and losing your badge if it wasn’t for Ms. Y/L/N.” She hmphed at the judge and you shrunk into your seat. Peter rubbed your arms, everything about him calming you.

“I hereby sentence Justin Voight to five years in prison with the chance of parole on charges of theft, DUI, neglectful driving, and conspiracy to commit corruption.”

“I hereby sentence Hank Voight to forty years in prison with no chance of parole on charges of corruption, money laundering, stalking, property damage, witness intimidation, and drug conspiracy.”

You left the courtroom feeling much lighter. You obviously didn’t feel good about sending your only remaining biological family to prison, but what other option did you have? They weren’t going to stop or pay reparations to the people they’d wronged. Just threaten and scare everyone who got in their way. And while you knew that Erin agreed with you on some level, you knew that she believed they shouldn’t go to prison. She would cover for them too, she had actually. And it was because of that that she was demoted to officer and barred from taking the detectives exam for five years. She stormed up to you, resembling a raging bull, after both trials had finished. “How could you, they are your family-”

“They have cost people their livelihoods, Justin actually paralyzed someone! I couldn’t stand by and do nothing, if they weren’t going to stop they had to be stopped. You have to realize that.”

“I just can’t believe-”

“Erin, you’re not joining them, and the only reason you’re not getting arrested for any of the shit you’ve done is because I spoke up and said it wasn’t your fault. All of it would have come out eventually, you know that. Now you don’t have to worry about when that happens. Don’t you get that?”

“You just betrayed your family-”

“Nope, you don’t get it. Goodbye Erin, I’ll talk to you when you pull your head out of my dad’s ass and apologize to me.”

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

ONE YEAR LATER

You woke up but it was difficult to see and breathe. You could feel dust entering your mouth and throat whenever you tried to get some air, there were some beams of light coming in but you could still see very little, only the shapes of concrete and metal.  You didn’t feel good. Nauseous, light-headed, pounding in your head, ringing i your ears, and your thoughts were moving so muddled and slowly.

You remembered Kim, the CFD logo, and something about the nurses’ station? None of it made any sense to you, and thinking only hurt your head more. You were so heavy, and so tired, so you just let your eyes close.

The sunbeams were gone when you woke up, you heard sounds instead. Machines and ���whooping’ mostly. But there were some people, you could not for the life of you hear what they were saying. And then you realized, ‘for the life of you’, Kim, CFD booth, charity race sign-up at the nurses’ station, three steps away, boom, nothing, rubble, rebar, dust, minimal light, minal air. The hospital exploded and you were underneath who knows how much of said hospital in pieces! Panic built up quickly, and suddenly you noticed metallic smelling liquid, aches, pains all over your body, something on top of your right leg. You didn’t think, you just acted. You screamed. Loud. In terror. In pain.

Peter, pizza, apartment, cat, Netflix, Cruz, Otis, pancakes, Molly’s, Hermann, Dawsons, coffee, doughnuts, Platt, Al, Justin, Erin, dad. Images, memories, flooded your mind, panic still securing you in its chokehold. You found an engagement ring in Peter’s nightstand last week. You were going to die. You were going to die. You were going to die. You were going to die. You hoadn’t been aware that you’d spent the entire time screaming as much as your lungs could bear until you vaguely recognized someone yelling at you. “Hey! Hello! Are you okay?”

“No! Help me- please!”

Everything was a blur, whether from your tears or your memory you weren’t sure. But in what felt like minutes you were out from and above the rubble, the night’s sky and a group of firefighters meeting your eyes. Their voices were muffled as you felt hands over you and you let yourself fall asleep again. 

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

Crying, someone was crying. It wasn’t you but you could hear sobs coming from right next to you. The room was dark, the only light in the room coming from the cracks in the door and the machines attached to you. You were still in a lot of pain. Your head was throbbing, but not as much as earlier, your lower right leg was in a cast, you could feel bandages on various parts of your body, gauze wrapped around your chest, and there was a plastic lining around your nose in mouth and stale air making its way into your lungs. Your body didn’t feel as weighed down as before, but you could still feel the exhaustion throughout your body. “Peter?”

“Y/N? Oh, thank God. Dr. Rhodes? She’s awake!”

After a flurry of nurses and doctors and tests, Peter was let back in. Dr. Rhodes followed, giving a tentative smile. “Well, Y/N, you are lucky. After being unconscious for five days you have a severe concussion, four broken ribs that we might have to perform surgery on to make sure they don’t pierce your lungs or heart, a broken ankle with three torn ligaments, numerous lacerations, and your oxygen levels were low when you came in. You were initially on a breathing tube but your levels improved so we took it out and put on the mask instead. Is there anything you want me to go into further detail about?”

“My ribs; how close am I to needing surgery?”

“Very, we’ve done our best to secure and monitor them but we really think that surgery would be best, it’s just that your next of kin are arguing about the best course of action.”

“What? But Peter is my next of kin, my only next of kin. Who has been coming to you thinking they have any power here?”

“Uh, it’s your dad, Y/N. They went to the hospital board and argued that they should be considered next of kin. The board agreed. I tried to fight it, but you know how many strings your dad can pull.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Well, I’m awake now, and I can make medical decisions for myself now, right?”

“Yes, I have been told by the hospital’s lead attorney that once you completely woke up you could make all the decisions necessary. We’ve actually been hoping for that because your family has been causing a lot of trouble over this.”

“Do you recommend surgery?”

“Yes. Based on our observations surgery is inevitable. And the fact that your family opposed Peter and your doctors has actually added a significant amount of risks for you.”

“Alright, do the surgery.”

“A nurse will be in to prep you shortly.” 

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

You looked at Peter’s tear-streaked face. “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought that I was going to die, I hadn’t even been aware of where I was or what had happened for most of the time I was down there. I was so scared that I would never make it back to you.”

“When I found out that you were in that building before the bomb went off, I just lost my mind. I was digging through rubble screaming your name, Casey and Severide had to pull me away and restrain me from searching for you. When you weren’t found after eight hours, and all that crews were finding dead bodies, I... The look that Boden and the lieutenants had with each other... It was without a doubt the worst day of my life. I love you, so much.” He was stroking your face, looking at you as if you were a gift from the sun. “I found the ring, almost two weeks ago now.”

He smiled and pulled the black box out of his coat pocket which was draped over the back of his chair. “You mean this one?”

“Yes.”

“I had a much more romantic proposal plan, but I don’t want to wait until it’s too late. I do not want a life without you. I want to spend the rest of my existence with you. Will you please marry me?”

“Yes. I love you so much, Peter. So, so much.”

Your moment with Peter was broken by Doris entering the room “... I hate to break up this moment, I really, really, do, seriously you guys are adorable, but I have to prep Y/N for surgery.”

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

The firehouse took turns visiting you and Leslie in the hospital, celebrating the fact that you were both alive and well and that you and Peter got engagement. Eliza, Peter’s kid sister, showed up with balloons and flowers. Peter spent the rest of your time in the hospital holding your hand and looking at you like you put the sun in the sky. And you looked at him like he hung the stars just for you. Everything finally felt like it was falling into place, and everyone, including your guilt-ridden dad, couldn’t be more happy for you two.

[animationforce]

Helen McCarthy and the importance of women in anime and manga fandoms

(This interview took place in 2019, now published for the first time in a two-part series. Read part one here.)

A longtime fan of Japanese comics, British writer Helen McCarthy was determined to showcase women’s place in art and fandom.

Before she achieved acclaim as a manga expert, McCarthy experienced significant sexism in the world of publishing. In the ‘80s and ‘90s, comics and cartoons were considered “kids’ stuff," therefore no specialized knowledge was required to review or write about them. As a result, publications reviewing manga often gave assignments to male staff instead of paying a specialty (or female) freelancer.

“My personal issues with sexism really aren't different from anyone else's, and sadly things haven't changed enough in almost 40 years,” McCarthy said via email. “Patronizing, condescending gatekeepers, both male and female, remarks about my appearance, questions about my personal life, uninvited chat-ups, the lot. I had no physically unpleasant experiences because despite being small and apparently defenseless, I am sarcastic, loud and threatening when necessary.”

To combat this sexism and gatekeeping, McCarthy made Anime UK gender neutral as a matter of policy. It made sense to do so, as very few writers at the time had working knowledge of Japanese animation. Today, however anime and manga news sources like Anime News Network (ANN) are typically open to hiring anyone who has the skills they require.

But despite that inclusivity, McCarthy added that “women starting out in the field seem to face more active hostility and negativity. It baffled me that those attitudes come both from a section of the male anime community and from women who collaborate with patriarchal views, or men impersonating women online.”

While women have always existed in the world of anime and manga, as artists, fans, or anything in between, they have never been the majority. In recent years, women have claimed space for themselves in manga fandom, and are “very feisty, very vocal and very well organized,” McCarthy noted.

McCarthy recalled a group of young teen women who created an anime-focused zine, developing a space for girls like themselves. A number of those artists are now scholars, professionals, and “just astonishing people.” There is also a cohort of Western manga artists who were teenagers when McCarthy began writing about Japanese animation in English.  Among those remarkable women are Leah Holmes who is working on her PhD and studying the unrecorded early history of anime in the UK, as well as artists Laura Watton, Emmeline Dobson, and Mary Beaird whose Elephant, Elephant, Hippo, Rhino…? comic strip is a favorite of McCarthy’s.

More than 30 years later, McCarthy sees the fandom as a much more inclusive place where women can not only claim their right to be there, but have their own space. Sites like Crunchyroll, My Anime List, Naruto Forums, as well as a long list of fan-made forums and social media platforms, have provided anime and manga fans with the space to get together and discuss the things that they love without fear of being ostracized. This space has allowed female fans to showcase their prolific commitment to the genre.

“Now I see young women claiming their rights, staking their claim in anime and manga fandoms,” McCarthy said. “[They’re] producing amazing artwork, producing amazing costumes. And the great thing is that there are now more and more young men who are willing to work with them on their own terms."

Despite the strides that women have made in the world of anime and manga fandoms, there is still significant misogyny and sexism within the genre. Although some stories feature a strong female protagonist (and sometimes multiple female protagonists), problematic, sexist tropes exist throughout manga/anime. As user Zylania noted on the forum Amino, women are often portrayed as stupid, defenseless damsels in distress. Their breasts are often oversized, distracting focal points for male characters and, in some cases, the women don’t even have heads or faces to differentiate themselves. In some anime and manga, females are never shown above the neck. Additionally, the increasingly popular Ahegao shirts — a term from hentai (Japanese pornography) for a woman’s often exaggerated orgasm face—are sold at manga/anime conventions, which puts female sexuality under a distinctly male gaze.

“Japan is a modern, developed society like America, Russia and Europe, and racism and sexism are not exactly dead in any of those areas,” McCarthy explained via email. “It's a combination of centuries of male privilege and prioritizing the male gaze and male concerns. The attitudes and history that gave the Internet the Captain Marvel trolling incident are alive and well all over the world. Most Japanese people have very good manners, which can make it seem as if outdated attitudes like that couldn't possibly exist there, but Japan isn't some fairyland where everyone is magically polite, reasonable and politically correct, except in our dreams.”

However, feminist women and works do exist in the genre, though it can be difficult to find them. San from the film Princess Mononoke and Major from Ghost in Shell are two characters often referenced by fans who are looking for strong, iconic women. McCarthy said Princess Mononoke is Hayao Miyazaki’s best example of a feminist character, since San does not rely on a man (Ashitaka) to rescue her and exists independently from male characters. San is free to live as she pleases and does not ultimately “belong” to Ashitaka by the end of the film.

So how can a feminist watch anime and still be empowered? McCarthy encourages women to watch everything they can. “Women in the fandom have to know what’s going on outside of what they’re watching. If you don’t know what the men in the community are watching, you can’t combat the concepts they are being given about you as a woman,” she said.

McCarthy encouraged feminist anime fans to be fearless. “You decide what's feminist and what isn't. I hope that that encourages a few other young feminists to go out and do what they do so beautifully, which is just be great women.”

After decades spent writing books and articles, and making appearances, McCarthy has spent the last 10 years slowing down. McCarthy is most concerned that the work she’s doing is worth being done—and being done well.

She has devoted her life to advocating for inclusivity in fandom and hopes to pave the way for other women to follow in her footsteps. McCarthy encourages other women to embrace their potential, especially as men become more in tune with the equality presented through feminism.

“My response to anyone who tells me they can do better work that I do — and trust me, there have been and are a lot of them — is to say, ‘Please, do it,’” McCarthy wrote. “I absolutely love reading great work by other people. I will be delighted to read yours, either right now or when you stop wasting your time sniping at other people and get around to writing it.”

READ PART ONE HERE

--

Amanda Finn is a Chicago based freelance journalist who spends a lot of evenings in the theater. She is a proud member of the American Theatre Critics Association. Her work has been found in Ms. Magazine,  American Theatre Magazine, the Wisconsin State Journal, Footlights, Newcity and more. She can be found on Medium and Twitter as @FinnWrites as well as her website Amanda-Finn.com.

[atths--twice]

Onto the next chapter! 

The Eighth Month 5b/6

Chapter Two 

Evening at the Hotel

Needing to stay out of the house while the paint fumes recede, Scully enjoys an afternoon to herself and the evening with Mulder.

Scully stepped into the hotel room, with the bellhop right behind her. He had insisted on carrying her bag, even though it was not heavy. He was a sweet Southern young man, about mid 20’s. He had told her on the elevator ride up that his mama and his grandma would tan his hide if they knew he had let a pregnant woman carry her own bag. She had laughed and thanked him, touching his arm.

He set the bag down on the bed and asked if she needed anything else. She smiled and said no, handing him a twenty dollar bill and thanking him for his help, and grasping his hand. He stammered that she gave him way too much for a tip, but she shook her head and said that his kindness and helpfulness was much appreciated. He looked at her and thanked her, telling her if she needed anything, he would be happy to help her. She smiled and locked the door behind him as he left.

She leaned against the door and looked around. This was a really nice hotel room. All the furniture was a dark colored wood. The bed cover was cream with beautiful detailing in it. The pillows were fluffy and the whole room smelled wonderful.

She walked into the bathroom and gasped. There was a bathtub big enough for two people. There were jets in the tub and she knew she was going to be using those later. The shower was big and had a seat in it. She smiled at the memory of the shower seat in a hotel in California, so many years ago, and touched her swollen belly. Definitely would not be using that tonight.

The sinks were standalone deep bowl sinks, with counters in between. The mirrors were big and the lights able to dim. This was probably the nicest hotel she had ever stayed.

Mulder. God, she loved that man. Loved him for the care he took to do all that was needed at home, but also to give her this luxurious night out. He knew just how to get to her. The pampering and spoiling she rarely did for herself, he saw to it for her. He had his faults, but his sweetness and thoughtfulness made up for them in spades.

She walked back into the bedroom and sat on the bed. Sighing as she slipped off her shoes, she fell back on the bed. Oh god, it was comfortable. She turned on her side and stretched.

She was tired, but the day had actually been fun and not as cringe worthy as she had imagined. Either baby showers had changed since her last one, or someone must have made an effort to not have the embarrassing games she had imagined. Instead, they had a nice luncheon, played a couple of fun games, chatted and opened presents. In total, there had been about twenty women in attendance. She had received wonderful gifts and had been incredibly grateful for the ones who had given them.

She felt a sense of guilt that she had complained to Mulder about going to the party. It was not as bad as she thought. Yes, some of the women were more bubbly than she was used to, but they were kind and attentive to her.

One young woman in particular, Dr. Stevens, Annabelle, had been extremely kind and sweet. She had approached Scully almost shyly, and told her that she had admired her work for years now, but had never had the courage to tell her. The papers Scully had written, the cases she had worked on, were amazing and awe inspiring. She had great respect for her.

Scully had been taken aback, not one to bask in the praise. She had thanked her, but could see that she had more to say. She had invited her to sit next to her as they ate, and Annabelle’s eyes lit up.

During the meal, she had plagued Scully with questions. She had wanted to know what made her decide on her specialty, when she knew she wanted to be a doctor, was it true she also worked at the FBI, how that factored into her work as a doctor, and what her plans were after she had the baby.

Scully had looked at her and Annabelle blushed to the roots of her hair. She had apologized profusely for asking so many personal questions and looked down at her plate ad Scully had smiled. She had recognized the thirst for knowledge and also the exuberance of youth. Had she ever been that young? It seemed so long ago.

Scully had answered her questions and then asked her where she worked at the hospital and about her specialty. Annabelle had become more animated about her own specialty and what she wanted to do in the future. Scully informed her that she had heard of her work, but had not known the name to go with the face. She had told her she was doing wonderful work and to keep continuing with it. She had offered her some advice and steps to take to reach her goals for the future.

Annabelle had blinked away tears as she told her how much her words meant to her. Scully smiled. She remembered how words of encouragement had helped her. She was happy to offer advice to fellow doctors. Especially to young women setting out on their path.

Her OB, Doctor Reynolds, Elise, had been invited as well and her friendly face was a welcome sight. She had inquired how she was, an informal checkup so to speak. They had spoken of the upcoming birth and preparations at home. Scully had told her about Mulder getting things ready and Skinner coming to help.

Elise and she had laughed at the story of the bookcase losing all the books, thus cementing Mulder’s credibility in being able to properly put furniture together. She had brought another picture for Mulder from Raina. This time it was two round people holding stick arms together and inside one person was a little face, which was “Ms. Dana’s baby.”

Scully had looked at it and her eyes filled with tears. She had dabbed at her eyes as Elise rubbed her shoulder and then put the picture in the gift bag she had brought so it would not be misplaced.

After the games, it had been time to open gifts. Annabelle had offered to write down all the items so Scully had a list. Much laughter and teasing had occurred while she opened them. She had received many cute outfits, a baby carrier and a baby wrap, supplies, baskets to store items, blankets, and many books.

There were even items for her now and after the arrival of the baby. Bubble bath, a couple bottles of red wine, and a bag of dark roasted fully caffeinated coffee beans which made her salivate and the women laugh and nod in solidarity. She strongly suspected someone got in touch with Mulder about items she liked.

After the party, Annabelle had offered to take the gifts home with her and drop them off the next day when she heard of Scully staying the night in the hotel. She was happy to help and cheerfully loaded up her car.

Elise had suggested they go out for a coffee, and so they had. It was nice and interesting to have someone to talk to besides Mulder. She would take him over them any day, but female companionship was something she was sorely lacking. She had enjoyed the couple hours she had spent with Elise. She was funny, smart, sarcastic, and had a great sense of humor. They had a fun time discussing patients who had been tough, or who had really touched their lives. Scully was pleased to find they had so much in common. She was glad they had the chance to bond a little more before the baby was born. She had left shortly after their coffee and arrived at the hotel.

She stood up now and found her phone in her bag. It was 4:00 now. Three and a half hours before she had to be downstairs to meet Mulder for dinner. Maybe she had time to squeeze in a quick nap and then a soak in that wonderful tub. She set the alarm for 5:30, took off everything but her underwear and bra, slipped under the covers into the softest sheets ever, and was asleep in minutes.

It felt as though she had barely closed her eyes when her alarm began blaring. She groaned and hit snooze. After the second time hitting the button, she knew she needed to get up.

She stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the bathtub water. When the temperature was right, she plugged it up and waited for it to fill. She used the toilet, her eyes closed and head down, still tired. The baby suddenly gave her a swift quick and she gasped, her eyes flying open.

“Jesus, little one,” she said softly, rubbing where the baby had kicked. “Try not to kick so hard.”

She stood up and took off her under things. Walking toward the tub, she caught her reflection and walked closer to the mirror. She stared at her stomach, at the way it was stretching to accommodate the growing life inside her. She marveled at the amazement of the reproduction process. How a single sperm and egg begins the process that creates a human life. How something microscopic could find the other, band together, and develop into an actual person. Two halves becoming whole.

She rubbed her stomach, the love for this child filling her heart. She closed her eyes, thinking of her other child out alone in the world. She hoped he had found people to help him on his journey, praying one day that journey would bring him back to her. To Mulder. She wanted to hold him again and see for herself that he was okay.

She opened her eyes and turned to the tub, finding it was nearly full. She saw different types of bubble bath and oils on the edge of the tub she had not noticed before. She looked at them and decided on a lavender scented oil. She added some to the bath and breathed in the scent, feeling relaxed already.

She turned the water off, put her hair up, and climbed in the tub. Oh.. it was wonderful. The tub was so deep, she could almost float around in it. She leaned back and let the lavender scent and warmth of the water soothe her.

The baby rolled and swirled in her stomach. The water seeming to propel her moving like a little fish. She smiled as she watched the movements. She remembered when she was pregnant with William how he would do the same thing; rolling all around inside of her, as she lay in the tub.

He had loved the bath when he was a baby, too. Always splashing and smiling when she put him in water. She closed her eyes as she tried not to cry. She had so few memories of his childhood and the ones she had were so precious.

She found herself wondering about his love of water. Did he always like it? Did he enjoy swimming? That exhilarating feeling of jumping in a cold pool on a hot day?

She could not stop the tears that filler her eyes. She no longer felt the guilt, but she still felt the sadness. She and Mulder had been robbed of loving their son, being his parents, being a family. She sobbed for all they had missed, all they would have had.

The baby moved around again and all of a sudden, she saw a vision of the sea. She could almost feel the wind and smell the salty air. She gasped and her heart started pounding. She knew this was Jackson. Knew he was trying to contact her. She slowed her crying, closed her eyes, and paid attention.

She saw the sand and the rocks, as if seeing it through his eyes. The water was getting closer, the setting sun shining off of it. She saw feet, toes in the water, as the waves approached and receded from the shore. Then ankles were covered with the water, sand squishing between the toes. The water was still, the ripples stopped, when she saw a face reflected in the water. Jackson was grinning at her. He put up two fingers- a peace sign. He nodded and then the vision was gone.

She opened her eyes and cried through her laughter. He was okay. He was somewhere by the sea and he wanted her to know.

Since the night he had come to her months ago, she had not had any visions. She thought he must be learning to control his abilities and it seemed that he had. He figured out how to tap into her emotions when she was thinking of him, needing assurance that he was okay. She cried and cried. Happy tears falling without stopping. He was all right and by the water. He must still love it.

She took deep breaths and turned on the tub jets, letting the bubbles swirl around her as she rubbed her stomach, making a promise to this child. No one would hurt her, or try to take her away from them. There were two of them now and they were stronger together. No harm would come to her.

She reaffirmed a promise to Jackson too, hoping he could still feel her. She would be there for him, they would be there for him, whenever he needed them. The house and they were always waiting for him to come to them, when he was ready. She wiped her face and let the bubbles relax her for just a little longer.

Turning off the jets a few minutes later, she got out of the tub, pulled the plug, and dried off with the fluffy white towel folded by the tub. She put on the robe that was hanging on the back of the door and went into the bedroom.

She had a new dress for this evening, one Mulder had not yet seen. She had bought it when she bought the one for the baby shower. She took it out of her bag and hung it up, glad the material was one that did not wrinkle easily.

It was a deep plum color, with a dark indigo satin piping crisscrossed across the chest. A matching satin sash tied around the high waist and ran the length of the dress, which fell just past her knees. The sleeves were three quarter and fitted. She had loved it before she even tried it on.

She bought new underwear too, lacy plum colored ones and a bra that matched. She planned on enticing Mulder to walk her back up to her room and she wanted to be ready.. for anything.

She took off her robe and put on her lotion before sliding on her underwear and bra and walking into the bathroom with her makeup bag. She put on her makeup a little bit differently tonight, her eyes a bit darker with more eyeliner and mascara than usual. She had a new purple eye shadow that matched her dress which she applied carefully, not wanting to overdo it. She put on lipstick in a shade she had not worn in a long time. Letting her hair down, it fell in loose waves. God bless those pregnancy hormones and prenatal vitamins; her hair was fuller than it ever had been before.

Her phone began ringing from the other room and she walked out and saw that it was Mulder calling.

“Hello?” she said with a smile.

“Scully? Can you hear me?” he shouted, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear.

“Yes, Mulder I can hear you,” she said, sitting on the bed.

“Scully? Hello?” he shouted again.

“Mulder! I can hear you!” she shouted back, trying not to laugh.

“This fucking thing." She heard him mutter. “This Bluetooth, Scully. It never connects right. Hello?”

She put her hand over her mouth and shook her head. He always had a problem with his phone connecting to the Bluetooth in the car. She had received many frantic, expletive filled phone calls from him. He almost always gave up and put his headphones on, cursing all the while.

When she would come home, she would show him again how to connect it and he would claim he had done all that but it did not work. She would easily connect his and he would stand there, shaking his head and cursing. Sounded like she would need to give him another lesson.

“Hello?” he shouted again. “Scully, I fucking give up. I don’t have my headphones with me, so hopefully you can hear me. I’m on my way. I’ll meet you at the restaurant at 7:30. Scully? Shit! I hate this thing! Just fucking connect!” he screamed. And then the phone hung up.

She sat there and laughed at how inept he was at simple things but could phreak a phone to find information. She had to love that man.

She waited, but he did not call back. She got up and picked up her dress, taking it off the hanger and slipping it on. Oh.. she loved the color and was pleased with how good she looked, pregnant stomach and all.

She slid her shoes on, looked at her reflection one more time, then glanced at her phone. Ten minutes. Well, it would take her a few minutes to get downstairs. She also wanted to be already seated when he walked into the restaurant. She wanted to see his face when he saw her in this dress. See his wide eyes of surprise changing to desire. It never failed to arouse her.

She put her key card in her bra and left her phone behind. She would not need anything else and when they arrived at the door later and he watched her take the key out of her bra.. she knew he would be staying for a little while. Yes, she knew what she was doing.

As she arrived at the restaurant, she noticed there was a wedding reception in the large room next door. She could hear a band playing and she smiled, silently wishing the couple a lifetime of happiness.

She walked up to the restaurant hostess and gave her name. She was seated right away, with the eyes of the hostess on her stomach. Scully laughed quietly at her attempt to be nonchalant about it, but failing miserably. The hostess caught her eye and blushed as she walked away and Scully just laughed again.

She sat facing the front of the restaurant and waited. The waiter approached and she ordered some bubbly water for her and a beer for Mulder.

She saw Mulder walking up a couple minutes later out of the corner of her eye. She kept facing away until she knew he had spoken to the hostess. When she saw him looking for her, she stared straight at him.

She saw the face when he saw her, the exact one she had been hoping for. His eyes widened and his surprised gaze traveled down what he could see. His eyes had became desirous on the return trip to her face. Oh yeah, she still had it. Scoot in her boot and all that.

She saw him wave the hostess away and point to her. He walked over and his eyes burned into her. She stood up and he stopped walking, eyes roaming over her body. The waiter arrived and her attention was momentarily diverted as he set the drinks down.

Mulder made it to her side as the waiter backed away. He placed a hand on her hip and brushed his lips against her cheek, then moved to her ear.

“Jesus Christ, Scully. Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look right now?” he whispered, his fingers on her hip curling in and pulling at her.

“I have some idea,” she impishly replied as he stood back and stared at her. His gaze traveled from her face, to her breasts, her legs, and stopped at her breasts again, before looking in her eyes.

“We should have just ordered room service. My god..” he said, shaking his head.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Mulder,” she said letting her eyes travel over his tall frame.

He had on dark jeans and a white shirt under a black sweater she loved. He smelled amazing and she almost suggested they head upstairs, but she had made the effort to get dressed and made up. She wanted to have a nice night out with him, not knowing how many of them they had left before the baby arrived.

He shook his head and stepped back from her. He held her chair as she sat back down before taking his seat across from her. He shook his head again, as she smiled at him.

“Seriously, Scully. They need to retire that dress and let it forever be known as the “Dana Scully dress.” No one would ever or could ever hope to look as beautiful as you when they wear it. No one should even bother trying.” he said, his eyes dark, his face serious.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mulder, but it will not feed the hungry child inside me. So, let’s figure out what we’re going to have for dinner and then you can keep those compliments coming,” she said, raising her eyebrows and reaching for her menu. He laughed and reached for his as she grazed his leg with her foot and he looked at her as she smiled at him.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He nodded and smiled back at her. They were quiet as they studied the menu. The waiter came up again and told them of the specials. He described a pasta with creamy tomato sauce, that made Scully’s stomach growl. She asked for that and set her menu down, looking at Mulder. He ordered a steak and potatoes, a side of fries, and a bowl of French onion soup.

The waiter looked at him, but said nothing. He left the table, taking their menus, and Scully looked at Mulder.

“Potatoes and fries, Mulder?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

“Stop. The fries are for you. You know you want them and you have been craving them as long as the grilled cheese sandwiches. You won’t ever order them, but you always want them,” he said, looking at her pointedly.

He was right, and she could not argue that he was not. She had craved the oddest things. Grilled cheese sandwiches, green olives, French fries, and grape juice. God, thinking about the tart taste of the grape juice, made her mouth water. Jesus, it sounded so good.

“You want me to see if they have grape juice?” he asked with a smirk as he watched her smack her lips.

She stared at him as if his question was preposterous. But the thought of drinking that grape juice made her change her look to pleadingly. He smiled and nodded as he got up from the table.

Oh, she needed that grape juice. She watched him talk to the waiter and he shook his head. Her heart sank and she felt incredibly silly for feeling so needy for something so small.

Mulder was gone from her sight for awhile and she felt so embarrassed that he must have left the restaurant searching for grape juice. No way he would find it, if the restaurant did not have any. Where would he even look in this hotel?

She looked around again and he came walking past the hostess stand. His hands were empty and she felt strangely like she was going to break down in tears. God damn.. this was so embarrassing.

He walked up to the table and stood beside her.

“Sit down. Please,” she said quietly, begging him as she reached for his hand.

“Wait,” he said, reaching behind him and pulling out a small bottle of fancy grape juice, apparently from his waistband, and setting it on the table.

“What?!” she exclaimed, grabbing for it.

“The wedding next door,” he explained, laughing as he sat down. “I figured someone over there had to want something nonalcoholic. Turns out, kids do, Scully. Who knew huh?” He smiled at her.

He took the bottle from her and opened it up. She drank her bubbly water down in three big gulps and handed him her glass. He chuckled as he poured it in and she grabbed it back.

The first sip of it hit her tongue and her eyes rolled back in her head. At that moment, someone would have had a hard time convincing her that sex was better than taking a drink of a liquid she craved so much. She drank it down in a few gulps and she sat back, fully satisfied, and no longer caring who thought what about her.

“Good?” he asked her, a laughing smile on his face. She got up out of her chair and leaned down and kissed him. Then again, her tongue lightly grazing his.

“Ahem..” A voice said to her right side.

The waiter was standing there with the plate of fries and the salad that came with her meal. She stood up and went back to her seat, grabbing the bottle of grape juice on her way.

She poured another glassful and kept her eyes on Mulder. He was watching her, stuck between desire and trying not to laugh. The waiter set her plate of salad down in front of her and put the fries in the middle of the table.

“Thank you,” Mulder said, his eyes never leaving Scully’s.

The waiter left, both of them smiling and then laughing. He grabbed a couple fries and she took a small drink before starting on her salad.

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully. They discussed what they had done that day and what the plan was for tomorrow. Scully told him about Annabelle bringing the gifts by tomorrow. She needed to come by at 9:00, before mass with her family. Mulder said he would be there and not to worry about it.

After they ate, and Scully finished the bottle of grape juice, the waiter asked if they wanted dessert. Scully declined and Mulder did as well. He paid the bill and they left the restaurant.

As they walked out, they heard the band playing a fast number and laughter coming from inside the wedding reception.

“You want to go crash a wedding, Scully?” Mulder asked her mischievously, taking her hand and tugging her toward the door.

“No!” she said, pulling on his hand. “It’s bad enough you somehow pilfered that bottle of grape juice. I mean, you know what that meant to me, but still. We can’t walk into someone’s wedding reception. Also, I’m not exactly inconspicuous here,” she added, motioning to her stomach.

“You look good. Better than good,” he told her, stroking her cheek. “But you’re right, Scully. It’s probably good we don’t head in there. All the attention would be on you and the bride would feel jealous. Best not to do that on her big day.”

“Mulder..” she said, but she could not stop her smile.

“And Scully, I didn’t pilfer the grape juice. I simply explained to a waiter that I had a very pregnant woman waiting for me and she needed grape juice. He said his wife just had a baby recently so he understood. Then he got it for me,” he told her, shrugging his shoulders.

His fingers moved to her hair, holding it as he stroked it down over her shoulder. They stared at one another before they both turned when they heard a slower song start. It was not the wedding band, but prerecorded music, but not a song she recognized.

Mulder extended his hand and she smiled as she took it. He pulled her close and they began to sway slowly. She took a deep breath and breathed in his scent. The aftershave he wore, but the Mulder scent she would recognize anywhere. She closed her eyes and relaxed into his embrace.

Oh, I always let you down You're shattered on the ground But still I find you there Next to me And oh, stupid things I do I'm far from good, it's true But still I find you Next to me

She missed the beginning of the song, but the chorus hit her square in the chest. It was as if someone was describing their life. No matter what happened, always next to each other. She listened to the next part of the song more carefully.

There's something about the way that you always see the pretty view Overlook the blooded mess, always lookin' effortless And still you, still you want me I got no innocence, faith ain't no privilege I am a deck of cards, vice or a game of hearts And still you, still you want me

She felt Mulder tighten his grip on her and she knew he too was listening to the words.

Oh, I always let you down You're shattered on the ground But still I find you there Next to me And oh, stupid things I do I'm far from good, it's true But still I find you Next to me

He pulled back and looked at her. He held her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. They stared at each other. The words of the song seeming to speak directly to them.

So thank you for taking a chance on me I know it isn't easy But I hope to be worth it

Mulder leaned his forehead to hers, his hands sliding down her arms and onto her waist. They stood, swaying slightly to the music, holding onto one another. Speaking the best way they did, with no words. Relying on touch and looks to relay how they felt.

So thank you for taking a chance on me I know it isn't easy But I hope to be worth it

Oh, I always let you down You're shattered on the ground But still I find you there Next to me And oh, stupid things I do I'm far from good, it's true But still I find you Next to me

As the song ended and a new one began, he pulled her tighter and whispered his love for her. His thanks, his appreciation, and his apologies. She leaned back and held his face in her hands.

“No more apologies, Mulder. Forgiveness has been granted. I love you. So much,” she said quietly before she kissed him.

He pulled her close and held her to him. The new song was faster, but still they held each other and swayed slowly.

“Could I possibly interest you in walking me upstairs? Maybe ordering some dessert from room service?” she mumbled into his chest. He laughed and pulled back, staring at her as he touched her cheek again.

“I don’t need any dessert, but I would definitely be interested in seeing you safely to your room. Making sure you make it to bed without any trouble. Or.. maybe a little trouble,” he said, raising his eyebrows and winking at her.

“You chose wisely,” she said, grabbing his hand and walking to the elevators, as he laughed behind her. “I’ve got something for you to see when we get upstairs.”

She stopped at the bank of elevators, pushed the up button, and turned to him. She leaned in and he bent his head toward her.

“Not to completely spoil the surprise, but it’s something under my dress,” she whispered in his ear.

He gave a sharp intake of breath, straightening up as the elevator doors opened. He quickly escorted her inside, pushed her against the wall, and began kissing her as the doors closed behind them. The music from the wedding reception fell silent, his love for her the only music she needed to hear.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Fights & Hot Chocolate | Dick Grayson

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Request: can I please request a Dick Grayson x ps! Reader where they fight because she’s part of the teen titans and he doesn’t like the fact that she’s always the first one to fight, and steps in when someone else is in danger so she ends up really injured and he tells her that she can’t go on missions ? Can it be so angsty but then super cutesy and happy at the end?? Pls and ty!!

Warnings: mentions of injuries, light angst, mentions of fights, overprotective!Dick, language maybe? That’s always a given with me, light fluff, mentions of hot chocolate.

A/N: for the love of me I can’t write action so I shifted a few things in the request for this to come out as decent.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You walked out on him that morning, tired of the same excuse he gave you before every mission. When teenagers fantasize with a protective boyfriend they never think about said boyfriend not letting them do their job, no one fantasizes with their partner making them feel so small actually.

It was hypocritical, yelling at you for putting yourself in danger when he did that every night. Dick was great in every other regard, but when it came to vigilantism he was biased and it was time for him to see it. You feared that fighting so often would damage the relationship, but giving in wasn’t an option because it simply wasn’t fair for you to quit being a Titan— not after how hard it had been for you to believe in yourself, to believe that you were as capable an athletic as the others no matter your weight and complexion.

His orders were harsher when directed at you that day, drier in contrast to the way the spoke to the others. You had already expected it, Dick wasn’t always good at keeping his anger at bay and although he was getting better the pressure of being the leader of a team took a toll on him.

Everything was going smoothly until it didn’t. Gar was too slow and your instincts kicked in. Pushing your friend aside, you yelped as soon as the blade pierced your skin.

Dick’s worry increased as the minutes passed. He was told he had to be patient, not one of his qualities if anyone asked him— or you, or Alfred, or Bruce— and one that even if he had would fail him in such a situation. He should’ve known you would be your stubborn self and put yourself in danger, and he shouldn’t have yelled at you.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

White light blinded you, a pang on your right side making you wince as you tried to adjust to the uncomfortable surface you were laying on and the harsh lighting.

Alfred was by your side in an instant, making sure your vital signs were okay. You weakly smiled at him as a thank you which relieved him. He helped you get comfortable on the bed, careful to not hurt you.

“How’s everyone else?” you struggled to ask.

“They’re more than fine, Ms. (Y/N). You’re the only injured one.” Great, just another reason for Dick to yell at you as soon as he saw you.

You didn’t expect your boyfriend to enter the room the moment Alfred left. The silence between you was as uncomfortable as awkward— he clearly wanted to say something, so you waited for a comment that never came.

Dick couldn’t stop staring or find the appropriate thing to say for that matter. He had known you would be okay, but what if you wouldn’t? What if he hadn’t taken you to Alfred on time? What if the injury had been more critical?

He skipped patrol that night to stay with you in case you needed anything. Your silence hurt him, he wanted to hear your voice, to know you were okay by your own words. Fighting with you always bummed him, and the reason behind said fights always being the same wasn’t comforting at all. He didn’t think it was fair for you to worry him as much as you did because you couldn’t help but putting other people before you— he loved that about you because of how kind and caring you were but he hated it because he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

Dick understood, however, that either of you saying something would end in another fight. Not wanting to upset you, he just made you company until you fell asleep.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Dark strands of hair were such a familiar sight to you. Through your fingers, on your chest or stomach, between your legs, from behind the mirror when Dick fixed his hair as you did your makeup... your favorite one was when you’d get home and he’d be on the couch, laying on his side with a hand under his cheek and his untamed hair let you know he had been tossing on the couch like he often did when he was watching tv or playing video games before falling asleep.

The one you were seeing was close to that, but his neck was stiff and his body curled up in what seemed an attempt to fit perfectly in the armchair. He stirred awake no long after, you hoped it wasn’t because of the intensity of your gaze.

Groggily, he asked, “how are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you answered truthfully.

He bolted up the chair the moment you made a motion to change your position.

You lifted a hand, “I can do it on my own.”

Dick ignored your stubbornness and held you carefully with his palm flat on your back. You groaned as you tried to get comfortable, annoyed by his gesture to no end. His exasperated sigh made you roll your eyes, maddening you even more.

“Can you stop acting like a brat for a moment?”

“I wouldn’t act like a brat if you didn’t make me feel so guilty, Richard!” You snapped.

He huffed, crossing his arms. Opening his mouth only to clamp it shut, Dick turned around and sat back down, seemingly deciding to keep quiet. Probably for the best.

The recovering days were nightmarish. Your boyfriend didn’t really speak to you but would be overprotective at every moment. Dick had gone to the extent of leaving you under his family’s care, his siblings would take turns with Alfred to come and visit you, they’d bring food and movies to watch so they could distract you.

Tired of it all, you waited up for him one night. You felt fine, you weren’t in pain anymore, and you had started to do lightweight chores.

Dick threw his duffle-bag carelessly to the floor upon hearing noises in the kitchen. To his horror, you were making what looked like hot chocolate.

“Lemme do it,” he said from behind you, his warm palm resting lightly on your lower back as if to steady you.

You merely shook your head, your attention never moving away from the saucepan. “Do you want a cup?” you asked softly, hoping you could avoid another fight.

He didn’t answer you. Dick continued to steady you until the beverage was ready. Surprised, you poured the hot mixture into the two mugs you had ready. He removed his hand from your backside to pick both mugs, carrying them to the table.

Smirking to yourself, you turned the hob off. His eyes didn’t leave your form, watching every move you made toward the table. Dick had already pulled a chair out for you which you took, nodding as a thank you.

“You feeling better?” You nodded to answer his question. “Alfred said you’ll be good as new in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s a stretch,” you blurted. Your expectations were to be ready by next week.

He took a gulp of hot chocolate to restrain himself. He had promised he’d try, although it hadn’t gone well the first time he could try some more. “It’s a safety precaution,” he opted for explaining, softly putting the mug on the table.

Wrapping your fingers around your mug, you unconsciously sighed as the heat from the ceramic warmed your palms. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I don’t know,” he answered bluntly. “I don’t want to,” his clarification came quickly, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

Dick didn’t doubt it. In fact, one of the few things he was sure in life was that you would never intentionally hurt him. He worried his fear of losing you would make you think he didn’t view you as capable— words weren’t enough to tell you how proud he was of you. And he was sure it was mutual.

“You need to be more careful,” he repeated what he said every time you got injured.

Placing the mug down, you wiped the chocolate mustache off with a napkin as you nodded. “You need to not get mad at me for doing my job, though.”

Dick nodded back, extending his hand across the table to place on top of yours. You marveled at how warm his palms were all the time, how their weight was always so comforting. Like him.

“Am I forgiven?” he inquired, standing up to take the seat next to yours instead of the one in front of you.

Chuckling, you feigned pondering. “I suppose you are,” you teased. The relief of the tension between you finally coming to an end increasing as he turned his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“Thank God,” he exclaimed, leaning to kiss the side of your head. “I hate sleeping without you.”

“That makes two of us.” You leaned closer to him too, placing your head on his shoulder. You knew better than trying to get too touchy at that moment, he’d scold you and get protective, after all.

[let-it-raines]

CS JJ Day 13: The Spectacular Ms. Swan (1/1)

1959. New York City.

Women aren’t supposed to have their own voices and opinions, and they certainly aren’t supposed to be funny. Emma Swan, however, has a lot of opinions and is damn funny. She also doesn’t care what anyone thinks. 

Except maybe Killian Jones, a comic who has been her supporter since the day she bailed him out of jail after one of his comedy routines. 

Rating: Teen (language mostly)

a/n: I wrote this one-shot last month after watching the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and told @shireness-says that I was determined to get it finished before my baby showed up, and she said that baby girl would probably show up early out of spite. She didn’t and @shireness-says doesn’t get bragging powers about being prophetic or something. ❤️

Thanks to the admin at @csjanuaryjoy for keeping this GREAT event running!

Found on AO3 | Here |

-/-

It started on accident.

Really, most things in her life do.

There was the getting pregnant at seventeen and then having to get married because it was 1952 and all sins could be forgiven if she was married to the man she slept with.

“He’s a good man,” her mother had said. “A wealthy man. You’ll never have to work a day in your life. Think about the child. Think about your reputation.”

Then there was being a mother and learning that she actually liked it even if she did have things she wanted to do with her life beside spend her days cooking and cleaning and reading every book in existence to Henry until she had to begin making up her own stories to fuel her son’s seemingly never-ending creativity and imagination.

There’s nothing and no one in the world who Emma loves more than Henry, and that will never change.

But he certainly wasn’t in her plan.

Neither was actually falling in love with Neal or enjoying their life together, at least for the first few years. Because, well, he wanted her to be a housewife who always wore heels and measured her waist and her thighs every day to ensure she didn’t gain weight, and Emma much preferred wearing flat shoes and eating a hot dog at a Yankees game instead of a salad at home or some overpriced restaurant. So, of course, like any man who had a wife who didn’t fit into his carefully drawn out lines, Neal wandered away with woman after woman and always came back…to his secretary.

Emma saw them in her bed in the middle of the day, and as much as she had turned a blind eye in the past, she couldn’t do that anymore. She didn’t say anything that day. What she did, instead, was drop Henry off at her parents’ apartment, go to the Rabbit Hole downtown, get drunk off her ass, and then get on stage and tell a room full of strangers the very intimate details of her life.

They laughed.

And laughed and laughed, and a woman sitting in the back of the room came up to Emma with a business card in hand and said to call her tomorrow when she was the slightest bit more sober because she thought Emma had a career in comedy.

So Emma called.

And now, three years later her son is seven, she’s divorced (thank goodness, she thinks, even if her mother is still disappointed in her), and Emma is traveling around the United States as the opening comedic act for the singer Sky Manhattan, which might be the most ridiculous stage name Emma has ever heard.

But she doesn’t care. Not at all. She doesn’t care about stage names or what kind of airplane or train she’s traveling on. She doesn’t care if she’s wearing the newest brand of shoes (she is) or the most on trend dresses (she’s got those too) with a fabulous collection of hats. All she cares about is that she has this thing that’s hers and hers alone. No one can take it from her or threaten to take her to court over it (well, actually they can, but not if she watches her language while on stage) and it’s hers. It’s not because of her parents or her shitty ex-husband who dumped his secretary for a woman who works at the Revlon counter or anyone else.

It’s because she’s damn funny, and she’s accidentally made a career of it.

She’s not making much money and still can’t afford her own place, but it’s a start. Who cares what anyone else thinks?

Oh, she cares about Henry. That’s the one thing she cares about most of all, and if he asked her to give it all up, she would. He’s the only one she’d do that for, and he’s also the only one who wouldn’t ask. Her mother thinks this is worse than getting pregnant out of wedlock, her father happened to walk into a show where she made a joke about her parents’ sex life, and the both of them have repeatedly asked her why she’s doing this and to stop doing this.

Now, they support her, but they also don’t understand. They both come from wealthy families, her mother the heiress to an oil fortune and her father a lawyer, and they’ve never understood why she’d want to go up on stage and tell crude jokes for a living.

(They’re not all crude, but it does happen sometimes. Okay, most of the time. It depends on the venue. But she’s gotten smart about that because jail is not something that appeals to her.)

But this is what she does, and when she’s finished touring, she’s going to fly back to New York, settle into her parent’s five-bedroom apartment in Manhattan, and spend all of the time that she can with her son. Neal never wants to watch him anyway despite his custody threats, so Henry’s always with her parents when she’s gone.

(“It’s not the man’s job to watch his child,” Neal says. “I’ll take him for a beer when he’s old enough.”)

The only bad thing about her job is leaving Henry, but they talk on the phone every night. She’s doing this so she can be happy, like she wants him to be happy when he gets older and is chasing his own dreams, and so maybe one day she can have a little something for herself that she didn’t have handed to her.

“Emma,” Ruby yells out, “be ready in five minutes. And remember today is a clean show, and what’s our number one rule for clean shows?”

“Don’t say ‘fuck.’”

“And our second rule?”

“Don’t say ‘fuck.’”

“You’re a genius, darling,” Ruby sighs, blowing Emma a kiss before walking out of the room with her heels clacking behind her. “And I’m the best manager on the planet.”

That quip was for Sky’s manager to hear, and Emma has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Whale will kill her if she laughs at that. Or cut her set time in half. Emma would prefer neither, but she guesses dying won’t really be that bad.

-/-

She only says fuck once during her set, it’s a complete accident, and only two people walked out of the restaurant.

Emma would call that a success.

-/-

“With olives please,” Emma tells the bartender, holding up two fingers.

“You know, you can simply order a bowl of olives, and they’ll bring it to you.”

A smile creeps up on Emma’s face, and she swivels in her chair at the sound of a familiar and far too cheeky British accent. “Killian Jones, as I live and breathe.”

“Emma Swan, as I breathe to live.”

“Oof, not one of your best jokes.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.” He leans in to press his lips against her cheek, one side and then the other. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“At a bar in a hotel in Miami? The better question is what are you doing here?”

Killian scoffs and settles down on the barstool next to her, shrugging his suit jacket off and handing it to her. When she raises her brow, he nods down at her lack of sleeves on her dress and all of her pebbled goosebumps. “You’re chilled, and I don’t think your boy will take it well if you freeze to death on my watch.”

“It’s Florida in May. I’m not going to freeze to death. But aren’t you a gentleman?”

“I’m always a gentleman.” He turns away from her quickly and holds up a finger to get the bartender’s attention. “Can you get me a glass of whatever your best rum is and a bowl of olives? And put her drinks on my tab.”

“You are not paying, Jones.”

“I am paying. It’s not often that I see my favorite comedian.”

“You’re full of shit if you say I’m your favorite comedian.”

“Well, if we’re being technical, I’m my own favorite comedian, but I felt that was a little too much to say. I’m trying to be less of an asshole.”

Emma leans her head back and laughs before tugging Killian’s suit jacket around her shoulders. This bar is cold, probably to combat the sweltering heat outside, but she’d never admit that to him.

“I don’t think you can be less of an asshole. Being an asshole is who you are.” The bartender puts their drinks and a bowl of olives in front of them, and Emma immediately pulls the olives off the toothpick in her martini. “I’m the opening act for Sky Manhattan. That’s why I’m here. We’re on tour.”

“What kind of name is Sky Manhattan?”

“It’s his stage name.”

“Fucking dumb stage name.”

“You’re so eloquent with words.”

Killian winks. “That’s why they pay me to talk on television.”

“They pay you to talk on television because you’re funny and you look like a man in every catalog on the shelf at Bergdorf.”

“You flatter me.”

“I try. I want your ego to become so big that your head explodes and you can no longer pop up in random places.” She takes another sip of her drink and leans over to gently push his shoulder. “Seriously. What are you doing in Florida? You live in Manhattan in a fancy apartment.”

“Says the trust fund baby who lives with her parents in their fancy apartment.”

“Hey.”

Killian holds his hands up in mock apology all the while his grin reaches from ear to ear so that his eyes crinkle and the blue of his eyes shines under the dim light of the bar. “I’m working on a show here. It’s only temporary. My contract is up at the end of June, and I’ve had this lovely place to call home for a month already.”

“You’re staying here?”

“Aye.”

“In the land of pastels and peppy waitstaff? Where the bathrooms are pink?”

“It’s a nice change of pace, and since I’m not paying for it, I don’t give a damn.”

“That’s more like you,” Emma laughs, twisting a little further on her stool and leaning into his space. “I’m going to be here for two weeks. Why don’t you come to a show? I think you’ll really like my routine and the guy singing after me is pretty good too.”

“Is that all you have to convince me?”

Her heart picks up its pace as Killian’s hand brushes over her thigh, a light and fleeting touch. “I can get you a free drink and all of the shrimp cocktails you want.”

“I was going to say no, but the shrimp cocktails really do it for me.” He leans in, closer now, and Emma very nearly closes her eyes in anticipation. Of what? She knows, but she won’t even let her mind go there. “I have to run to work. Why don’t you meet me here Saturday night? I’ll take you to dinner and show.”

“I’m working Saturday night.”

“We’ll go after.”

And with that, Killian Jones is throwing cash onto the bar top for a tip and then walking away, leaving his jacket with her.

Damn, she missed him.

-/-

“How was your last day of school, kid?”

“We had cupcakes, and I had two.”

“Two?”

“I wanted three, but Mrs. Horowitz wouldn’t let me have another one.”

“I bet she didn’t want you to spoil your dinner.”

“Cupcakes could have been dinner.”

Emma laughs and stands from her bed, pulling the cord on her phone with her. “Cupcakes are not dinner. Has Grandpa been feeding you cupcakes for dinner?”

“Nope. But he does give me chocolate.”

“Ah, of course he does. I’m going to be home to see you next week before we go to the Catskills for a few days and then I go to Vegas. Are you excited?” There’s no answer on the other end of the line, just a bit of static. “Henry? Kid? Kid?”

“His friend Avery is here, Mrs. Cassidy,” Ashely says over the phone. “He went to play.”

“It’s Swan, Ashley,” Emma huffs. She doesn’t want to snap at Ashely because she’s a sweet girl and helps with Henry far more than she should as her parents’ housekeeper. “Neal and I are divorced, and I changed my last name to my middle name.”

“I have to go, Mrs. Cassidy,” Ashely mumbles. “The boys are climbing on your father’s bookshelves.”

At that, there’s no one on the other end of the line, and Emma doesn’t get the chance to speak to her parents or tell Henry she loves him.

This is her life.

-/-

“Ruby Lucas, I am not going on a date with someone you met today.”

“Why not? He’s from New York, is here on a trip, and he’s cute. I think it could be a good match, and it’s been so long since you dated, which is different than sex, mind you.” “I’ve been divorced for two years and on the road for most of that. I don’t think many men want to date a divorced mother who is a stand-up comedian. Half of them think I’m a witch.”

“That’s because men are idiots.” “And yet you want me to date one?”

“One date,” Ruby sighs, slipping on her heels and smoothing out her skirt. “He’s got money, and he knows people who can sponsor you. Think of it as a business dinner and not a date.” “Well, I can do business dinners, but I can’t tonight. I’ve got plans after the show.”

“The dinner is before the show. What the hell do you have going on after the show? I don’t have anything booked for you.”

Emma turns from Ruby and fixes her blouse, tucking it in before raising her finger and brushing away the red lipstick that’s strayed to her skin. “Killian Jones is in town. He’s taking me to dinner.”

“Ah.”

“What?”

“Well, if you’d told me the man you were sleeping with was in town, I would have changed the date of your dinner with Walsh despite me thinking you need to go on more actual dates and not just sexual rendezvous.”

“I am not sleeping with Killian.” “Please. You can lie to me about a lot of things, but I know when you’re fucking someone.”

“I have never slept with him.” She turns around so Ruby can see her eyeroll. “He’s a friend. He helps me with my routines when we’re in the same city, and he sends Henry an absolutely useless gift at least three times a year. So we’re going to dinner to catch up, and maybe I’ll get some new material for you.”

“I wouldn’t care about new material if you’d fuck Jones.”

“I’m going to fire you as my manager.”

“Never, darling. Now, tits up. You’re meeting Walsh Osbourne in the bar at six. Sweet talk him until you get a meeting for some commercial auditions.”

“I’m doing this for commercial auditions?” “We’re doing this to get our foot in the door for television. You can’t hop straight to one of the variety shows your lover Jones is on.”

“I will stab you with my heel.”

-/-

“Yeah, my son is really into baseball. I got him some tickets to the batting cage and a new bat for Christmas. He – ”

“You’re not funny,” Walsh mumbles after interrupting her in the middle of her answer to his question about what her son is interested in. “I thought you were supposed to be funny. What’s the point of dating you if you’re not funny? I knew women couldn’t be comedians and that you were just a nice piece of ass and a good pair of tits.”

It takes two seconds for Emma to pick up her glass of wine and slosh it across the table at Walsh. She’s been sitting at this table for fifteen minutes, and she doesn’t plan on sitting here any longer.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re also apparently a bitch,” Walsh spits out as she stands. “I have connections, and you can say goodbye to all of them.”

“I don’t need the connections of a sexist pig who doesn’t think women are capable of being funny. I can guarantee you, Mr. Osbourne, that we are, and if you take offense to women not laughing at your jokes or not telling their own jokes all the time, maybe you should look in the mirror and figure out that you’re the one who couldn’t tell a joke to save his life.” “Fuck you. I hope your performance is a failure tonight.” “It’ll certainly be better than yours.”

-/-

She kills it in her set. She’s fucking spectacular and funny, and everyone who thinks otherwise can screw themselves.

Everyone who thinks she has to spend her days only being funny and coming up with jokes can screw themselves as well.

-/-

She sees Killian slip out right before she closes and introduces Sky.

-/-

“Was I funny?” Emma asks, tugging Killian’s suit jacket around her shoulders. She was going to give it back to him tonight, but it’s chilly again. Plus, he’s wearing a different fitted black suit tonight, and he doesn’t need it back right now.

“Pardon?” “How’d you like my set? I know you were watching.” “Was I?” he ponders, tapping his finger against his lips. “I wouldn’t know.”

“You’re being an ass, and you said you were trying to stop that.”

His brows move across his forehead, that same cheeky smile still on his lips. “I may have been there.”

“And what’d you think?”

“Buy me dinner first, and then I’ll tell you.”

They go to a restaurant that doesn’t seem to believe in white-colored light bulbs or volume limits, and Emma loves it. A band is constantly playing, dancers moving around the floor, and the steak she has is quite possibly the best steak she’s ever had.

Killian Jones has always known how to plan an evening and pick out a restaurant.

“Shall we dance?” he questions as Emma leans back into her chair, absolutely full even if she feels lighter than she has in quite some time.

“What?”

“Dance with me, Swan.”

“I don’t dance.”

Killian stands and holds his hand out for her, blue eyes sparkling even under all of the colored lights. “All you need is a partner who knows what he’s doing.” “And you do?”

“Of course, love. I’m an expert in…movements.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but she takes his hand anyway and melts into the warmth of him as his fingers curl around her palm. “That wasn’t your best work. You’re slacking lately.”

If he responds, she has no idea. The music is too loud already, and it gets louder when they move closer to the band. The songs have been fast and upbeat all night, and yet the moment they start to dance, it changes into something soft, slow. It’s probably for the best. Emma really doesn’t know how to dance (or sing) despite everything asking her why she isn’t a dancer when she tells them she’s a comedian, and she’s pretty much got two left feet out here. So she places one hand more firmly in Killian’s, another around his neck, and they sway back and forth.

It’s not proper how close they are, body pressed tightly against body, but she’s never cared for proper.

She’s never cared for rules and expectations, and while that stung when Neal told her that was one of the reasons he strayed from their marriage, she knows that nothing he says is anything she should listen to.

It’s okay if he strays from the conventional path sleeping with her without them being married and going off and fucking his secretary, but the moment she doesn’t want to cook a ham every night, she’s the one who’s too wild.

He never thought she was funny either. That should have been the first sign.

“I’ve been thinking, love.” “I never like when you do that.”

“Yes, yes you do.”

Killian hums and turns them in a circle, his hand sliding lower on her back. “What were you thinking, Jones?”

“You’ve made comments about my jokes being off, and I don’t know…I suppose I don’t feel the need to be funny around you, and it’s nice. There’s not all that – ”

“Pressure? Expectation? The need to always be thinking two steps ahead?”

“Exactly. As much as I like bantering with you and coming up with new material, I like that I can talk about whatever the hell I want without worrying that I’m being too boring.”

Emma looks up at him and sees his soft smile and blue eyes she finds more charming by the minute. “I like that I don’t have to be funny with you, too.”

“Good.”

-/-

“So, quite the nice night.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s five in the morning.”

“Ah, well,” Killian sighs, waving his hand out to the ocean and the few boats moving over it. The sun isn’t rising, not quite yet, and she can still see the stars twinkling in the sky. “We haven’t gone to bed yet, so I still consider it night.” “Well, if you consider it to be night, how can I deny that?”

“You can’t. Where’s your room?”

“Fifth floor. Where’s yours?”

“Seventh.”

They walk in companionable silence until they find the outdoor staircase that leads to their rooms. Emma’s heels are in her hand, have been for the past few hours, but her feet still ache. She should have changed into her flats after the show, but she didn’t stop to think before heading to meet Killian at the bar. Suddenly, they’re standing on the fifth floor, two doors down from her room, and then they’re there standing on either side of her hotel door.

Killian blinks, and Emma blinks back, not sure whether to speak or to search for her keys. She might be too tired to think coherent thoughts. She also might not want this night to end. It’s the first time in a long time where she hasn’t spent hours trying to impress someone, and if she goes to bed, that’ll be over.

(She doesn’t want it to be over.)

(She wants just this one thing, this one night.)

“You’re staring.” “So are you.”

“Well, I do have a particularly pretty face, love.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, leaning against the wall and closer to Killian. “Are you going to tell me what you thought of my act now?”

Leaning closer, Killian brushes his hand over her forearm and up her shoulder until he’s tucking her hair behind her ear. A shiver runs down her spine, working its way into her bones, and her skin pebbles. “You were fucking spectacular, Ms. Swan.”

Emma’s cheek blush, and since she can’t look into the ridiculous blue of Killian’s eyes, she digs for her keys in her clutch and pulls it out, sticking it into the lock. The door swings open, the bed immediately in sight, and Emma feels Killian’s intake of breath. She also feels him stepping away.

It’d be so easy to ask him to come inside and ask him to unzip her dress and untie his tie until they’re both undressed and panting against each other, but it’s also just as easy to step inside without him, right?

Right.

(Maybe not just this one thing on this one night.)

“Goodnight, love,” Killian tells her. “I’ll ring you when I’m back in New York.”

“Henry and I will both be waiting.”

-/-

Neal calls her when she’s in Las Vegas two weeks later to tell her that she’s a horrible mother.

He’s seen his son once (for an hour) in the past month, and he lives ten minutes from him.

Emma has seen Henry three times, one of which was for four days in the Catskills, and she’s traveling the country on tour.

She is not a horrible mother, and she will not let Neal’s voice get in her head. Not anymore.

One more month of this, and then she’s home for two months before they go to Europe for the rest of the tour. She can do two weeks in Las Vegas and two more in Palm Springs.

She can.

-/-

Killian sends her a postcard from New York in the beginning of July.

I’m back in New York. Your boy has already convinced me to take him to a Yankees game. I’m sure we’ll be on our fourth visit by the time you get this.

I promise I’ll try not to corrupt him while you’re gone.

Killian’s an asshole.

But a good asshole.

(And maybe he’s not really an asshole at all.)

-/-

“Ah, that sweet smell of urine and concrete,” Ruby sighs as their taxi pulls in front of Emma’s apartment building. “I’ve missed you.”

“There’s been urine and concrete in all of the places we’ve been.”

“It’s not the same, and you know it.”

“I know, I know.” Emma leans over and kisses Ruby’s cheeks. “It’s been fun, my friend, but I don’t want to see your face for at least a week, okay?”

“I don’t want to see your face for two weeks.”

“Then we have an agreement.”

Emma laughs as she exists the car and motions for the doormen to come and get her bags. She definitely has far too many of them for as much as she doesn’t care about clothes, hers seem to keep expanding. She takes one suitcase and a hatbox and quickly walks into the building and to the elevator, and the operator hits the button for her floor. She’s bouncing with excitement, her feet nearly coming out of her shoes, and she’s so close to Henry she might buzz right out of her skin.

“Mom,” he yells when she opens the apartment door. Emma drops her bag and her box and bends down until Henry is running into her arms. “You’re home.”

“Yeah, kid,” she whispers, cupping the back of his head. “I’m home.”

-/-

“My mother wants me to meet a man.”

“Excuse me?”

Emma brushes past Killian into his apartment, and she lets out the low whistle she always lets out every time she’s here. Whereas her apartment is filled with antiques and furniture that can’t be sat on (thanks Mom and Dad), Killian’s apartment is sleek and modern. It’s all clean lines and black and white decorations with little pops of blue. It’s a man’s apartment, and she’s always loved it.

Plus, the view of the Hudson is spectacular.

“I never wanted to be a woman whose entire life revolved around cooking, cleaning, and waiting for their husband to get home to not acknowledge any of that,” Emma rants, kicking off her shoes and immediately walking to his liquor cabinet. She can’t reach the shelf with all of his good stuff, but there’s a cheap bottle of rum just within her reach. “My mom seems to think that I need a husband to rein me in from my ‘rebellious’ phase.”

“You had a husband. You hated being married.”

“I didn’t hate being married. I hated being married to him.” “Ah.” “What?”

“Well, there’s a difference?”

“Yes, there’s a difference! I imagine being married doesn’t suck if you like the person you’re married to and if he doesn’t sleep with every woman he meets.” She pours both she and Killian a tumbler of rum and hands him his glass. He eyes her but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tilts the glass to his lips and takes a large gulp. “I just…I don’t know why my mom thinks it’s imperative for me to get married again.”

She walks over the couch and curls her legs underneath her while Killian sits in on the other side, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Killian clicks his tongue again, and she’s never noticed how much ginger is in his beard before now. “Well, you’re basically an old maid.”

Emma kicks her foot out at him. “You’re the worst.”

His lips curl into a smirk. “I am undeniably the greatest. And look, your mum is old-fashioned. She doesn’t get why you wouldn’t want to marry just anyone or why you want to spend your days traveling around the world making dick jokes. The one about his dick being so big it was a Richard was inspired, by the way, even if I did know that it was inspired by me.”

“I will stain your white rug with my drink.”

“I’ve got a very nice woman named Greta who knows just how to get that out.”

“Who knew being crude on late night television paid so well as to have a Greta?”

“You did, Swan,” he laughs, taking another sip of his drink before placing it on a coaster. “But back to your mother.” Emma rolls her eyes, but Killian pays her no attention. “She thinks the way to happiness is being married to a nice man and having him provide for you. You have to let her know that you don’t want another Neal or someone you’re only with because it’s proper. You want someone who you love and who lights that fire in your soul that you don’t want to be put out.”

“Someone who I don’t feel the need to be funny around.”

“Yeah,” Killian says slowly, a red blush dusting his cheeks, “someone who you don’t feel the need to be funny with, someone you don’t have to put on an act around.”

There’s always been something about Killian Jones that has unsettled her and yet made her feel comfortable. The night they met she had to bail him out of jail because one of his performances was deemed too crude by the police presence in the bar, and they’ve been circling around each other ever since. He’s wormed his way into her life, and she never really noticed. It’s been in short conversations and trading jokes at a bar, but then it was getting together for dinner and him taking Henry to Yankees games. It was dancing in clubs and almost, almost, almost asking him to come into her hotel room.

It was having him know her better than anyone else knows her.

Slowly, Emma rises from her spot on the couch and walks over to Killian, pressing down and placing her knees on either side of his thighs before she raises her hand and thumbs at the scar on his cheek while her other hand brushes his hair back. Killian blinks up at her, his mouth no longer smirking. Instead, he’s softly smiling at her, and Emma feels a long-forgotten flurry in her stomach.

“Emma – ” She leans forward until her forehead presses against his and until her nose is nudging against his. Killian’s hands are warm against her waist, and she feels it all the way down to her bones, seeping deep within her. “What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”

“Being with someone I want to be with, someone who I don’t have to put on an act with.”

His lips are soft and gentle, a fluttering of a movement against her own, and it’s the exact opposite of what she thought kissing Killian would be like. She thought, if anything, they’d be drunk and stumbling across the room, clothes falling to the ground and lips not marking their intended target. She thought her mind would be too fuzzy to think.

That’s not at all what’s happening.

All she can think about is how much she’s wanted this, even if she didn’t realize it but in fleeting moments after nights of alcohol, and how natural it feels to have his scruff burn her chin and to have his lips caress hers.

This is good.

This is a fire she would never want to put out.

“You’re not going to regret that and talk about it in your act, are you?” Killian chuckles while kissing the corner of her cheek and then her jaw, his lips like magic.

“Regret it? No. Put it in my act? Absolutely. I’m not sure how I’m going to make it funny, though,” she sighs, pressing herself further into him, “because there’s nothing funny about this.”

“No, love, I don’t think there is.”

-/-

She wakes up the next morning to Killian kissing her bare skin and whispering words to her that have chills running down her spine.

They go to a Yankees game with Henry, and Killian buys far too much ice cream, not that Henry would complain. Not the Emma would either. She’s too damn happy for any of that.

And he doesn’t judge her for eating a hot dog.

-/-

All Killian wants for Emma is to be happy and live life how she’s always dreamed of living her life, not by whatever standards are expected for her.

Oh, and to keep on being the spectacular Ms. Swan.

(It’s Mrs. Jones now, but the stage name of Ms. Swan has a nice ring to it.)

(She keeps on being damn funny.)

-/-

-/-

Tag list: @csjanuaryjoy​ @stahlop @shardminds @carpedzem @captainsjedi  @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @shireness-says @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke  @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @spartanguard @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious (because we talked about it yesterday...let Lenny live 😉)

[boywizardscanbecute]

Inseparable Part IV

Hey guys here’s a present for yall! Part 4/5 of Inseparable!!! I’m a sucker for Harry Potter x Reader and long fics so those of you that know me know I had to write this. Enjoy!!! Part 5 I hope to finish in the next month. Let me know if you have any requests or want to be tagged in future stories! 

LOVE YOU GUYS 

Find parts I-III Here: https://boywizardscanbecute.tumblr.com/post/619112671437111297/inseparable-parts-i-iii

Part IV

Dumbledore arrived at 9 am sharply. “Good morning professor,” you say cheerily. He smiles with a twinkle in his eye, “And a good morning to you too Ms. l/n. Tell me, are you ready to depart?” You nod. Dumbledore offers an arm to each of you, but before disapparating he adds, “Y/n you will be going to the burrow. Harry, I have someone I would like you to meet first. Then you will join her at the burrow.” Harry nods, and then looks to you. Dumbledore, averts his gaze. The man was one of the brightest wizards known to live, he surely felt the chemistry between the two of you. Nevertheless, you keep things low key. “Harry,” you squeeze his hand, “Please be careful.” He nods, and plants a swift kiss on top of your head. When you’re finished, Dumbledore takes each of your hands and disapparates. When you reappear, you stand alone in the Weasley’s kitchen. Dumbledore and Harry gone. 

You’re only left to your thoughts for a single moment before a smiling figure welcomes you into their arms. “Y/n darling! Dumbledore told me you’d be coming today. Your trunk already arrived along with Harry’s trunk and Hedwig. Almost time for a spot of breakfast make yourself comfortable dear,” Mrs. Weasley fawns over you. Instead of busying herself in the kitchen however, she sits across from you. And you could sense what she was about to ask. “Are you okay dear? Ron told me about everything. I know you’re the only one Harry will talk to, but I don’t want you to feel burdened.” You feel a rush of gratitude at her concern. Faking a smile you respond, “I’ll be okay Mrs. Weasley. Harry needs me and I need to be there for him.” She reaches across the table, grabbing your hand. “Y/n,” she urges, “You are just a child. It’s not fair for you to take on being someone’s emotional guardian like that.” A response forms on your lips, “But Mrs. Weasley, wouldn’t you do the same for Mr. Weasley?” She smiles, “Of course I would dear, but he’s my husband. You’re still so young.” She did have a point. But Harry wasn’t just anyone. “Yes he is Mrs. Weasley. And to be completely honest with you I feel the same future approaching for Harry and I. No one makes me happier than him and I really couldn’t imagine my life without him,” you beam. She returns your look, “Inspired words. I just want you to be safe.” Squeezing Mrs. Weasley’s hand you reply, “Always will be.” Then she busies herself cleaning and cooking. As soon as you befriended Ron, Mrs. Weasley became the mother in your life. And you would do anything for her. You were lucky she thought of you as her child. 

Pacing around the living room, you waited for Harry to return from wherever he was going with Dumbledore. You knew Dumbledore would protect him but it didn’t stop the worry you felt. It is still very early in the morning, Ron was sleeping upstairs. Instead it was Ginny who came down the stairs. “Alright there y/n?” she called out to you. Turning, you plaster a fake grin on your lips. “Fine Ginny, just waiting for Harry to get here.” She saw through your fake smile, but decided not to press the issue. She continued to wander into the kitchen. It’d been nearly 2 hours since you got here. You decide to distract yourself with food when you hear a loud crack from outside. The unmistakable sound of apparating. Sprinting out the door, you see Harry standing in the grass. “Harry!” you shriek. His arms don’t have time to catch you and he topples over as your body crashes into his, the air rushing out of his chest. Lifting yourself off of him slightly, you look down and study him. “Are you okay?” you giggle. He grunts, “Yea just surprised at being knocked over.” Immediately you get off of him and help him up. There’s a call for breakfast from inside and you’re about to go in, but decide to follow your impulses. Turning around, you cup Harry’s cheek and give him a long, lingering kiss. When you pull back, he stands there stunned into silence. “Come on,” you laugh. Taking his hand, you drag him back into the Weasley kitchen where a delicious breakfast awaits. 

Summer at the Weasley’s was the most relaxed you’d felt in ages. Today you’d decided to go to Fred and George’s joke shop along with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The shop was a marvel, a beacon of light in the now dimly lit shops of Diagon Alley. Fred and George had really found their calling. The day was fantastic, that is until Harry caught sight of a familiar platinum blonde haired boy headed for Diagon Alley. Harry burst out the door after him. “Harry where are you going?” you call after him. Ron and Hermione look to you. You shake your head, not knowing where Harry was going, but you follow him, with Ron and Hermione on your tail. Harry watched Draco turn the corner and made a decision. He began to scale the building across from Fred and George’s, climbing onto the roof. “Harry Potter you get down from there! You’re going to hurt yourself!” Hermione and you both yell at the same time. But he doesn’t listen. “Merlin’s beard,” you curse under your breath. Grabbing hold of the gutter, you climb up following him. “Hang on, he doesn’t answer so you’re just going to follow him?” Ron asks bewilderedly. Ignoring him, you lay yourself next to Harry on the roof and follow his gaze. “Harry, what are we looking for,” you hiss. Not taking his eyes off Draco in Bourgon and Burke’s he replies, “Malfoy looks an awful lot like someone who doesn’t want to be followed. And now he’s in there, see he’s talking to his mother and Bellatrix Lestrange.” You gasp, Bellatrix Lestrange did indeed stand in plain sight in the main attraction of Knockturn Alley. Soon Hermione and Ron crawled up next to you. “What do you think they’re talking about?” Ron asks, already knowing why Harry was watching them. “Dunno,” Harry replies, “But they seem pretty interested in that cabinet.” Hermione squints at said cabinet. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she murmurs. If Hermione hadn’t heard of it, that meant it had to be rare. So the four of you watched Draco’s interaction until he left. It was hard to pull Harry away. “Harry, come on. There’s nothing else happening,” you pull his arm. Reluctantly, he goes. Meeting back in the shop, you return to the burrow with your friends and an extremely agitated Harry. 

Today was no different. The Hogwarts Express chugged along the countryside and Harry sat next to you, aggressively chewing on his finger nails. “I’ve got to do something. I’ll be back,” he suddenly rose and left the compartment without a second glance. Ron looks at you. “Don’t look at me,” you say aloud, “He’s been acting weird all morning.” “But why?” Hermione asks. You groan, “I’m not sure. But I have a hunch.” Hermione doesn’t inquire further. 

Around lunchtime Luna and Ginny join you in the compartment. It somewhat takes your mind off of your missing best friend. But as the sky grows dim and you get closer to the castle, you shift in your seat. Pulling into the platform Hermione announces hopefully, “Maybe Harry’s already gotten off of the train.” You return her smile, “Maybe. But I’m gonna hang back just to make sure. See you guys at dinner.” They reluctantly nod. Ginny follows and it’s Luna who announces, “I’ll keep you company and help you look.” “Thanks Luna,” you reply thoughtfully Once everyone exits the train you begin to walk the aisle. “Harry?” you call tentatively. No answer. Luna slips into the other cart and continues searching. “Harry? Are you here?” you call out again. Silence echoes around you. Another minute of searching and a sing song voice calls from the next car over, “I’ve found him!” You rush towards Luna’s voice. She stands over Harry laying in the middle of the aisle with a clearly broken nose. “Oh Harry,” you sigh once you realize he isn’t seriously harmed. You and Luna each take a hand and pull him to his feet. Walking out onto the platform Luna briefly stops, stepping in front of Harry. “I can fix that for you,” she states. “That’d be great thank you Luna,” he replies, lowering his sleeve from his bleeding nose. Raising her wand Luna exclaims, “Episky.” Bones crunch as Harry’s nose is put back in place. The three of you stroll back towards the castle, forced to walk as all then carriages are gone. 

Dinner’s halfway over when the three of you arrive. Luna departs for the Ravenclaw table and you and Harry slide in by Ron and Hermione. “What happened?” Hermione gasps, gesturing to Harry’s bleeding nose. “Later Hermione,” Harry hisses, focusing on Dumbledore’s speech. You softly readjust the cloth he holds against his nose before turning to the front as well. “Even now, as we speak, dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle. They attempt to infiltrate your mind and you must ask yourselves, will you be the one to deliver your peers to darkness. The answer is hopefully no.” The speech was bleak, and it struck a chord with Harry. He was sure now more than ever that Draco was working with other followers of Voldemort. “We have a staffing change as well. I’d like to welcome Professor Horace Slughorn who will reprise his role as potions master. Professor Snape will begin Defense Against the Dark Arts.” It takes you a second to register said statement. “Wait what?” you ask incredulously. Harry answers, “That’s the man that Dumbledore took me to meet before we went to the Burrow. He wants me to get to know him, get close to him.” “Why?” you hiss. Harry just shakes his head responding, “Dunno.” When dinner’s over, you and your friends trail back up to Gryffindor tower. And before you sleep you ask Harry, “Harry I want you to promise me something okay?” He looks up at you from his spot on the couch. “Promise me you won’t impulsively go after Malfoy,” you state. Harry immediately frowns but you continue, “Harry, if he really is one of them now, then they could easily be at his side. Please don’t do anything impulsive, I need you to be safe Harry.” In response to your plee, Harry stands and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I promise,” he whispers. Satisfied, you return his kiss and skip off to bed. 

The next day was Quidditch tryouts. After Umbridge left Harry was reinstated and became captain. He kept you and Cormack on as beaters, Ginny as a chaser. There was one open spot, for keeper. Competition was fierce but in the end, it’s Ron who gets the position, to a very satisfied Hermione. That night you sat by the fire, comparing schedules. “Why aren’t you taking potions?” you ask Harry and Ron. Harry answers, “I don’t have the scores to become auror anyways so I may as well not take it.” You purse your lips considering his statement. Turning towards the fire, you realize how late it is. “Well, we best get some rest before classes tomorrow. Goodnight everyone,” you tell them. Harry walks you to the stairs like normal. “Goodnight Harry,” you tell him between kisses. “Goodnight beautiful,” he responds, causing a blush to creep to your nose. Harry laughs and sends you up the stairs. 

The next day was a whirlwind as you rushed from class to class. And as you stood listening to Professor Slughorn drone on about potions you’re surprised to see Harry and Ron enter the dungeons. “Ah, Harry my boy what brings you here?” Slughorn beams. Harry replies, “Well sir, Ron and I have added potions to our schedule sir. But we don’t have the book.” Slughorn, turning back to his notes says, “Very well, check the back cupboard for any extra books and find a seat.” Harry nods. Another moment later and Harry and Ron settle into your table. You raise your eyebrows at him. He mouths back ‘McGonagall’s orders.’ You smile, having had a feeling this would happen. When Slughorn announces that you’ll be brewing draught of living death on your own, you feel Hermione tense beside you. You laugh until you hear what the prize for the best one is. A vial of Felix Felicis. “Liquid luck,” you gasp. Hermione stares longingly at the prize and you join her gaze. “And Begin! Goodluck!” Slughorn proclaims. 

Half an hour later you wipe your forehead across your arm, sweat dripping down your face. “Why is this so hard,” you curse under your breath. Hermione had an equally difficult time, which comforted you a little bit. Trying to slice open a lobalog you growl as it shoots across the room out from under your knife. “Bloody hell,” you shot, eliciting a few dirty looks. Harry laughs at you. Turning to shoot him a fake glare, it’s then that you notice how well Harry is doing. Walking over to him you tug on his hand. He turns to look at you. “How are you doing this so well?” you moan in annoyance. Harry laughs and lets go of your hand turning to your textbook. “There’s notes in here,” he says, “I’ve just been following them.” Your eyes widen in jealousy. “Do share my dear,” you gently tease him. He shrugs, “Well for instance, try crushing the lobalogs against the blade instead of cutting them.” “Well okay,” you reply, returning to your station. Lo and behold, the crushing works and you smile in satisfaction. Hermione is in complete panic mode now, her hair blowing up in the steam. Dripping the juice into your cauldron she gasps, “How did you do that?” Shrugging you tell her, “I just crushed them instead of slicing them.” She shakes her head, “But that’s not in the directions.” Grinning you turn back to your work replying, “But it worked didn’t it?” She huffs in annoyance and continues trying to slice the bugs. Leave it to Hermione to insist on doing things by the book. 

When everyone is finished, Professor Slughorn parades around the room testing each potion. “I can tell this class will need some work,” he comments. Finally reaching your station he tests Ron’s and tuts, “Pitiful,” to which Ron profusely blushes. Hermione’s is next and he smiles saying, “Well done Ms. Granger.” She beams with pride. When he tests yours his face grows with excitement, “Even better Ms. l/n.” You couldn’t help but grin despite Hermione’s frustration next to you. But in the end it’s Harry’s that wins. “This is fantastic my boy! Absolutely Splendid! One bottle of Felix Felicis for you!” Slughorn hands the bottle over. Harry smiles and flashes a wink at you. Hermione looks torn between jealousy and curiosity and Ron looks longingly at the bottle. Exiting the dungeons you whisper to Harry, “I do hope you’ll share that book a little more.” Harry chuckles and takes your hand, walking towards the Great Hall for lunch. 

The first weekend after classes was your first Quidditch match. And unlucky for you it was against Slytherin. By the end of the week Ron was falling apart from nerves. “Ron are you okay?” you tap his shoulder. He jumps nearly a mile. “What? Oh sorry I was just thinking about the match tomorrow,” he replies. “Ron you’re gonna do fine,” Hermione reassures him. He gulps, “I’m not so sure ‘Mione.” He studies the fire in the common room, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “You should get some sleep Ron,” Ginny pushes him up from the couch. “I’m sure I’ll sleep, and not spend the whole night worrying about tomorrow,” he groans, traipsing up the steps. Ginny and Hermione follow. “We should get some sleep too,” you pull Harry up from the couch. “Meet you down here at 7 tomorrow?” he asks you. “Of course,” you tell him. Reaching the stairs to the girls dormitory you stop and turn to him. “Are you nervous for tomorrow?” you ask him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug. He murmurs into your hair, “For me? No. For Ron? Yes. But I have an idea on how to fix that.” Pulling away from the hug you catch the mischievous glint in his eye. “Harry James Potter what are you planning on doing?” you fake scold him. He laughs, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” You push a finger into his chest and he backs against the window. “I know when you’re lying Harry,” you tell him. He grabs the wrist of the hand poking at his chest and kisses you deeply, pulling you into him. It’s all too easy to give into his touch and you let him run his hands across your back as you wind your own through his hair. Breathlessly he pulls away when he runs out of breath, with a goofy grin plastered on his face. You shake your head at his smile, He goes to kiss you again but you turn your head saying, “No kisses for you until you tell me this plan.” Harry groans, still reaching for your lips. Finally he sighs, “You’re too hard to resist.” Grinning at your victory, you turn towards him and wait for his explanation. He continues, “I was thinking of faking putting the Felix Felicis in Ron’s morning juice. I already asked Luna to come over and comment on the ‘tonic’ I put in his juice. If he thinks I gave him it, then I bet anything he’ll be at the top of his game.” Your jaw drops in surprise. “Harry that’s brilliant!” you squeal in delight. He laughs, “Well I’m glad you think so.” The clock chimes midnight and Harry frowns in frustration. “You should get to bed,” he tells you. Nodding, you plant one last lingering kiss on his lips and bound up the stairs, his eyes watching your backside as you go. Harry sighs in contentment and goes to bed himself. 

The next morning you wait for Ron and Hermione to arrive at breakfast, as you already sat with Harry and Luna. When Ron does sit you urge him to eat. He looks like a ghost. “Some juice then? Come on drink up Ron?” Harry pushes the cup forward. As planned Luna comments, “Is that why you put a tonic in there?” Ron looks to Harry in confusion. Again as planned, Harry hastily moves the bottle of Felix Felicis from the table. It’s Hermione who speaks up, “Harry you can’t do that! It’s illegal.” Harry shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hermione groans in frustration at Harry. Turning to Ron she begs, “Don’t drink it Ron. You don’t want your first victory to be won unfairly.” Ron considers her statement for a brief moment before downing the juice. Hermione frowns in disappointment. “Come on Harry, y/n. We’ve got a match to win,” he strides towards the field with newfound confidence. You follow your teammates with a hint of guilt in your chest at lying to Hermione. Harry, being your closest confidant, notices you’re feeling guilty. “She’ll find out soon enough, no harm done. I promise,” he tells you. Taking your hand, he leads you to the changing rooms. 

Nearly every single student showed up for the match, the crowds were massive. After a somewhat motivating speech from Harry, you emerged from the changing rooms. Before you let him go and focus you kiss him on the cheek and say, “Goodluck darling.” He smiles and struts away. Following his figure, you focus all your thoughts on beating Slytherin. 

As soon as Madam Hooch blew her whistle it was evident how much the Slytherin’s wanted to win. Due to the fact that they were likely to play dirty, you had to dash around the field, batting every bludger in their way. One Slytherin made their way through your defense and went to score. Miraculously, Ron blocks the Quaffle, kicking it right into Ginny’s arms. “YEAH!” you pumped your fist in the air. Refocusing, you search for the next bludger. Headed for Ginny with the quaffle, you dived in front of the bludger, wacking it towards a Slytherin chaser with all your strength. Knowing this move, GInny simultaneously dips lower, continuing on with the quaffle. The team was incredibly in sync. Another ten minutes pass and you spot the snitch. A red blur quickly follows it and you knew Harry saw it. Problem was, so did Malfoy. Racing towards Malfoy, you search around for any bludger to hit. The answer comes in the form of a heavy object slamming into the back of your arm. Gritting your teeth, you watch the bludger fly past you. Ignoring the pulsing in your left arm you position yourself behind the bludger and blasted it in Malfoy’s direction. His hand reached out for the snitch and you watched with bated breath. The bludger made contact with the back of his shoulders, effectively knocking him out of the way. With Malfoy gone, Harry closes his fist around the snitch in victory. He sails towards the ground, jumping off his broom. The whole team follows and the seven of you dog pile on top of Harry. The stands erupted in cheers and the Slytherin’s quickly retreated in defeat. 

That night in the common room a party was thrown to celebrate the victory. Tons of firewhiskey was brought in, music blasting through a speaker. When Ron entered he was immediately lifted onto people’s shoulders. The amount of saves he brought for the team was nothing short of amazing. Hermione scowled. You and Harry walked up to her, ready to explain what really happened. Wordlessly, Harry pulled the vial out and showed it to her. She gasps, “You didn’t really put it in. He only thought you did.” Harry nods. “Sorry we didn’t tell you before,” you add. “It’s perfectly alright I…” Her voice trails off, her expression immediately changing to disgust. You and Harry followed her gaze and see Ron Weasley passionately kissing Lavender Brown. “Oh no. That’s not good,” you mumble. Harry stares on, stunned into silence. You turn to talk to Hermione, but she’s gone. “Harry,” you nudge him out of his daze. “Hermione’s gone,” you tell him. His face falls, “Oh no. She must be heartbroken.” You nod your head. “I’m going to go find her and talk to her. I’ll catch you later,” you press a fleeting kiss on his cheek and leave Gryffindor tower, searching for Hermione. 

20 minutes later you find her in her favorite stairwell, the sniffles floating up to your ears. “Oh Hermione,” you sigh, filled with sympathy. You silently sit down next to her and place an arm around her. She sobs loudly. “I’m so sorry,” you tell her. She cries into your shoulder, soaking your shirt. Eventually, her cries slow and she shakes softly. “How did you do it?” “Do what ‘Mione?” you ask. She sniffles, “Watch Harry be with someone else. Last year with Cho.” You sigh, pondering her question. Eventually you answer, “It was hard. Really hard actually. Some days I didn’t want to leave the room. But I had to be strong.” She nods. “Ron’s an idiot,” you comment. She laughs. Minutes pass and she fiddles with her wand, conjuring tiny songbirds that circle the two of you. Soon giggles round the corner and a cheery Ron and Lavender pause at the sight of the two of you. Ron glances up, “What’s with the birds?” he asks. Lavender coos, “Come on Ron, I think this stairwell is taken.” She leaves but Ron stares at you comforting your friend. Hermione’s face hardens and she flicks her wand, sending the birds after him. With a look of horror and confusion, he turns and runs away. Then her cries return. “Hermione you know you don’t need him right?” you tell her. She doesn’t answer. You continue, “You’re the smartest person I know Hermione. And you’re such a pretty girl. Besides, you've got me and Ginny and Harry. We’re here for you. Come on, let’s go back.” Hermione nods and follows you back to Gryffindor tower. Sending her up the stairs to your dormitory you say, “If you need anything Hermione I’ll be in the common room for a little while.” She nods and says, “Thank you y/n. You really are my best friend.” You hug her and send her to bed. 

When Hermione is gone you walk over to the couch to find Harry talking to Ginny. “Well?” Ginny asks. You sigh, “I got her to stop crying. But she’s heartbroken.” Ginny nods, “I can’t believe my idiot brother.” Harry bites back a snort of laughter. Ginny laughs and stands up saying, “Well I think I’ll head to bed. Great match today guys.” You compliment, “You too Ginny. You must have scored at least seven times.” She shrugs as if it was nothing. Laughing, she walks up the stairs and disappears behind the door. Finally you turn to Harry and let out a long breath. “This will sure make things complicated,” Harry comments. You nod. Taking his arm, you place it around your shoulders and curl up into him, tucking your feet underneath you on the couch. Harry asks, “Are you okay y/n?” Breathing against his chest you answer, “I’m okay. It’s just Hermione asked how I had to deal with you seeing Cho. And I had to think back about that. Because even though I was with Seamus I still had such strong feelings for you and it was hard to watch you be with someone else.” “I know exactly what you mean,” Harry replies. “I wish we didn’t lose all that time,” you admit. Harry speaks softly, “I wish we didn’t either. But we’re together now. That’s all that matters.” “You’re right,” you agree with him. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you and you relish in the pure bliss of snuggling with Harry. Suddenly, a thought comes to you and you sit up looking at Harry. “Harry what are we?” you ask eagerly. He snorts with laughter, “I beg your pardon?” You continue, “I mean I know we’re together, but like are we dating? Are we boyfriend and girlfriend? That’s what I mean.” A blush creeps onto his cheeks as he considers your thought. “Well?” you elbow him playfully. He answers, “I’m not really sure what any of that means. I’ve never really dated anyone before but I would like to call you my girlfriend. You grin like a fool. “So I’m your girlfriend then?” you look up at him. He answers by kissing you, pulling you into his lap. Breathlessly he pulls away and answers, “Yes. You’re my girlfriend.” You smile and kiss him again. It felt so natural to sit in his lap. His hands roam around your lower back, leaving your skin on fire. Running your hands through his hair, you let your tongue slip in his mouth and press yourself closer to him. Boldly, Harry removes his lips from yours and begins to suck on your neck. You hiss, “Harry that feels good.” He chuckles against your skin and continues to leave love marks on your collarbone. You squirm in his lap and he pulls away saying sheepishly, “We’ll probably have to stop now.” His face was beet red. Sliding off his lap you plant a soft kiss to his cheek and whisper, “Goodnight darling.” He gulps, “Goodnight y/n.” Flopping onto your bed, you fall asleep with a goofy grin on your face. 

As potions continues throughout the term, Hermione becomes increasingly furious with how well Harry is doing. “Hermione I would let you share my book with me you know?” Harry argues with her after class. She huffs, “That’s not the point Harry. It’s that it doesn’t follow directions.” “Suit yourself,” Harry shrugs. “See you at the three broomsticks?” you ask Hermione. She shakes her head, “I suppose. But if Ron and Lavender are there I’m leaving.” “Okay Hermione,” you tell her. Looking out the window, you see a fresh layer of snow falling as you run up to Gryffindor tower to change. You decided to wear jeans with your brown combat boots and, sneaking up to Harry’s room, you throw on his Quidditch sweatshirt. Walking down the stairs into the common room, Harry raises his eyebrows at you. “I don’t think that’s yours,” he teases, snaking an arm around your waist. You feign innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He laughs and kisses you on the forehead. 

You enjoyed your time at the three broomsticks, successfully managing to distract Hermione from Ron and Lavender. Tragedy struck on the walk back to the castle. One moment you were laughing with your friends and the next minute you laughed in horror as Katie Bell’s body hung in the air a package lying at her feet. “Oh my god what’s going on?” you shout, running forward. Katie’s friend tells you, “I told her not to touch it, I told her!” Confused, you watched as Katie’s body is thrown around by some unknown force. She then drops from the air. “Arresto Momento!” you yell, slowing her fall. Stepping forward, you reach for the package but are stopped by Hagrid striding forward yelling, “Do not touch that! Whatever you do don’t touch that!” Stepping back, you watch as Hagrid lifts Katie up and carries her back towards the castle. 

When you get back to the castle, you’re immediately summoned by Professor McGonagall. “Please describe what happened,” she asks you. Hermione jumps into a long winded explanation, saving you from having to say anything. When she’s done Professor McGonagall says, “Very well, you may go.” Harry however, stays glued to where he stands. “It was Malfoy,” he blurts suddenly. Both you and Hermione shoot him a look not to pursue this. “And how, may I ask, do you know that?” McGonagall questions him. “I just know,” Harry replies. “You just know?” McGonagall lets the statement hang in the air. Professor Snape comes striding into view and says something privately to Professor McGonagall. She whispers something to him. When he leaves she looks back to the three of you and says, “Please go back to Gryffindor tower.” You’re happy to oblige. 

When you get out to the hallway you tell Hermione, “Hey you go on up, I want to talk to Harry for a minute.” She nods. When she leaves, you take Harry’s hand and dragged him up to the astronomy tower. When you get there, you pause and turn around to face him. “Harry what’s with the firm belief that Malfoy is up to something?” you ask him. He crosses his arms replying, “I already expected no one else to believe me but now you too?” He looks betrayed. Sighing, you uncross his arms and hold his hands in yours. He avoids your eye contact. You place a hand on his cheek and catch his green eyes. “Harry please talk to me,” you whisper. He sighs and answers, “I just need you to believe me.” Your voice rises to a shot as you try to convince him, “Harry I do believe in you! I do!” He finally looks at you, emotion in his eyes. You continue, “Harry, if you say Draco did it I believe you. I just don’t want you to get into unnecessary trouble, you know I worry about you.” His eyes flash with sadness. “Katie could have died,” he lets the statement hang in the air. “But she didn’t,” you reply. Harry takes your hand and brings you to the edge of the astronomy tower. The two of you sit, legs dangling off the edge, and watch the sunset. Harry’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders and you lean into him, nuzzling your face into his chest. After it gets dark he says, “I wish we could just run away sometimes.” You lift your head up from his chest and study his facial features. You were only 16 but Harry looked aged, there was worry in his eyes and you couldn’t remember a time when his eyebrows weren’t furrowed in concern. “I wish we could too Harry,” you lightly kissed his cheek. After a pause he confesses, “It’s so much pressure. I’m just a teenage boy. And now the whole wizarding world is relying on me to save their asses.” You knew it was hard for Harry to admit his fears, he always wanted to wear a brave face. You gently turn Harry’s face towards your own and kiss his lips deeply. You only pull away when you run out of breath. Breathing into his face you whisper, “I’m never going to leave you Harry. I’m going to help you. You’re not alone in this.” Pressing his forehead against yours, Harry says, “I really don’t deserve you.” 

Slughorn made a big deal about the Christmas party that he would be hosting this year for his favorite students. Sitting in the common room around the fire you ask Hermione, “So who are you going to bring to the Slugclub’s christmas party?” She groans, “Ooh I don’t know. Maybe I should just go solo. Or wait, I’ll bring you!” You laugh, “Hermione, Harry is Slughorn’s crowning jewel in his collection of students, surely you don’t expect me to not go with my boyfriend?” She sighs, “God I don’t know what to do. You know who I’d really like to go with, but I can’t.” Squeezing her hand you say, “I know Hermione. It will get better.” She replies, “What I’d love to do is take the person who would piss Ron off the most.” You encourage her, “So do it then.” She pauses, “Maybe I will.” Harry comes up to the two of you and says, “What’s going on?” You tell him, “Hermione doesn’t know who to take to the Christmas party next week.” Harry sits down on the couch, pulling you into his lap and kissing you quickly before telling Hermione, “You know I happen to know someone that is dying to go with you.” Hermione’s eyes nearly pop out as she asks, “Who?” Harry laughs, “Cormack.” Hermione groans, “Now that is the last person I want to go with.” Harry agrees, “Yes, he’s quite annoying. But I know he would say yes.” “Fine,” Hermione huffs and walks over to Cormack, taking the plot into her own hands. Harry tickles your side and kisses your neck affectionately. “Harry stop,” you giggle. He chuckles and continues to tickle your sides. Finally, when your laughing dies down, Harry asks, “So what will my beautiful y/n be wearing to the party?” Kissing him on the nose you reply, “It’s a surprise.” He groans, “Don’t keep me in suspense.” “But then it’s no fun for me,” you laugh. Hermione stomps back over and says, “It’s done,” with a look of disgust on her face. 

You help Hermione get ready for the party, nervousness already spreading through you. The dress you decided to wear was a deep red, silk material, with off the shoulder sleeves that stopped right above your knees. Meeting Harry in the common room, his eyes glance over you and he lets out a low whistle. “Harry,” you blush profusely, playfully swatting his arm. “You look gorgeous,” Harry breathes. Blush travels up your neck to the tip of your nose and you mumble, “Thanks.” Harry offers you his arm and he escorts you to the party. 

Slughorn welcomes Harry with open arms and only acknowledges you as an afterthought. Once he’s thoroughly had his ear talked off, Harry returns to you side. “Care for a dance?” Harry asks you. You smile sheepishly, “Harry I’m not the best dancer.” He laughs, “And you think I am? Come on we’ll embarrass ourselves together.” So you let him drag you onto the dance floor. Harry really wasn’t the best dancer, but he had an ulterior motive; to hold you close. Wrapping your arms around his neck, his hands wind around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. You rest your head on his shoulder, The biggest smile grows across his face as he sways with you in his arms. And in that moment, Harry thought that he could never be happier than he was right now. But as was typical with his life, the happy moment was quickly interrupted. Mr. Filch entered the premises, dragging a reluctant Draco Malfoy with him. “Professor Slughorn sir, found this one gate crashing. Claims he was invited sir,” Filch simpers. Slughorn chuckles, “No harm done, no harm done.” Before he can continue, Professor Snape sweeps onto the scene and says, “I can take care of Mr. Malfoy.” His black robes sweep behind him as he drags the boy out of the party. You look to Harry, wondering what he wants to do. Your eyes travel down to his pocket as he flashes you the invisibility cloak. You nod and follow him as he slinks out into the corridor. 

“Come on, let's go. Quickly,” Harry raises the cloak and you climb underneath, standing against him. Shuffling slowly down the hallway, you and Harry stand tucked against the wall as you listen to hushed voices. “I made a vow to protect you. So I would appreciate you not getting yourself into trouble everytime I turn my back,” Snape sneers. Draco shoots back, “I was chosen for this task. I don’t need your help. He chose me. Leave me alone.” Then there’s the telltale stomping of Draco walking away. You look at Harry, who mutters, “Believe me now?” Slowly, you nod. “He’s definitely involved somehow,” you agree. Harry gulps and slowly takes you back to the Christmas party. But the rest of the night seems pointless and you watch helplessly as Harry is extremely agitated to a point of distress. 

Returning to the common room, Hermione immediately goes to take a shower, claiming she needs to scrub off Cormack’s touch. Harry plops down in an armchair and you settle comfortably in his lap. “Think we’ll ever have a night to ourselves, uninterrupted by impending doom?” you chuckle sarcastically. Harry laughs and runs a hand affectionately through your hair. “One day darling, one day,” he promises you. You study his emerald green eyes closely and see both the admiration and sadness in them at the same time. “One day,” you echo his thoughts. Harry smiles adoringly at you and you laugh, kissing him gently. Eventually, you part ways with your lover and go to bed. 

Christmas holiday came by fast and soon enough you were back at the burrow. Opening your presents, you smile at the sweater Mrs. Weasley had knit you. “Oh thank you so much Mrs. Weasley I love it!” You run around the table and hugged her. From Ron you got some broom polish, from Hermione the new edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and from Ginny you got new converse. “Thank you so much guys!” you beam at your friends around the table. And as dessert finished up, everyone scattered throughout the house, enjoying family conversation. Making yourself some hot chocolate, you sit in the windowsill, watching snow fall. 

Harry comes up from behind you, kissing the top of your head. “Hello darling,” you smile at him and patted the seat next to you. Sitting down, he smirks and pulls out a present from behind his back. “Harry you didn’t have to,” you begin but he silences you with a kiss. When he pulls away he says, “Yes I had to. Because you are life’s greatest gift to me.” Smiling cheekily you reply, “I got something for you too.” Revealing the present you got him from underneath the cushion, you push it towards him saying, “Open it.” Harry grins and begins to unwrap it. His breath stops for a moment when he sees what it is. Somehow, you’d managed to find a picture of you and Harry, age 7, smiling and lying in your aunt’s backyard, dirt all over your hands, holding them up to the camera. You’d managed to charm the picture to move and it showed you laughing and wiping dirt on Harry’s nose. It was a simple frame the picture was in, but it was the picture that mattered. His green eyes shine with emotion as he says softly, “I love it. I love it so much.” You smile, satisfied with the gift. Harry hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve and says, “Your turn,” pushing your own gift towards you. It was rather tiny and you held your breath as you opened it. “Oh Harry,” you gasp, staring at the gift. It was a simple oval shaped silver locket. But that wasn’t the special part. The special part was that you noticed this necklace in a shop window in Hogsmeade months ago. Somehow, Harry had remembered this. Opening the locket, you saw a picture of you and Harry moving. It was the two of you embracing tightly after you won a Quidditch match earlier this year. “Hermione must have taken it,” Harry shrugs, answering your question before you can ask it. “Will you put it on me?” you ask him. Harry nods and takes the necklace from you. Turning around, the hairs on your neck stood on end as Harry brushed your long locks aside, and clasped the necklace around you. 

When Lupin turns to leave, Harry stands with him at the front door, staring out across the land. “Something’s up,” you mutter to Ginny. The two of you walk towards the door behind him. Suddenly there’s a flash of black across the sky and you freeze in your spot as you hear the laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange echoing through the air. There’s a ring of fire and Bellatrix appears chanting, “I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!” You look at Ginny and mutter, “Oh no. He’ll go after her.” Sure enough, Harry sprints through the ring of fire after the death eater in a moment of anger. Without a second thought, you sprint after him, jumping over the flames. “Y/n no!” Lupin shouts after you. Ignoring it, you sprint through the tall grass after Harry. “Harry!” you scream. Sprinting further into the tall grass, you search frantically for your boyfriend. There’s a rustling in the grass a few feet behind you and you turn around scared. “Harry?” you call out shakily. There’s a low growl coming from the rustling in the leaves and you freeze, frightened. Backing up quickly, you squint your eyes into the night, searching for the source of the growls. You gasp as your feet hit wet ground, and you back up into the dredged pond. Then you nearly jump out of your skin when your back hits something solid. Turning around, you sigh in relief as you see Harry. “There’s something out there,” your voice quivers. “Don’t turn your back to anything,” he tells you. You oblige, standing back to back with Harry, wands raised, searching for death eaters. Then Fenrir Greyback comes into view, releasing that low growling sound again. “There’s that pretty one,” he grumbles in your direction. You feel Harry tense behind you and he turns around saying, “Touch her and you die.” The werewolf growls and moves closer. “Harry,” you grip his forearm, concern growing in your voice. Then there’s a bellowing behind you and Mr. Weasley shouts, “Stupefy!” The werewolf is blasted back onto the ground. He gets up, seething anger and advances towards you. A screech fills the air and he stops, looking back towards the burrow. He smiles smugly and disapparates. Looking back to the burrow, you see the entire house is on fire and collapsing in on itself. “Oh my god,” you gasp in horror. You take off sprinting towards the house, Harry following close behind. 

There was no cheering Harry up over the final days of Christmas Holiday. You knew that he completely blamed himself for what happened at the Burrow. Returning to Hogwarts, Harry is immediately whisked away by Dumbledore for another one of their special lessons. So you sat up in the common room, waiting for him. Nearing midnight, you jump in surprise as the portrait opens and it’s not Harry. Ginny shuts the portrait and leans against it, a smug smile on her face. “Ginny?” you hiss at her. She jumps in surprise. “Bloody hell y/n you frightened me,” the smile drops from her face. “Where were you?” you question. She struggles to form an excuse. Finally she confesses, “With Luna.” “At the library?” you continue. Ginny blurts out, “No. We’re dating.” “Oh,” you’re briefly surprised. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea of Ginny and Luna together grew on you. “That’s great,” you smile at her. “I’m happy for you,” you continue. She beams, “Thanks y/n. Night.” “Night Ginny,” you reply. It was almost 1 am when Harry returns. “Bloody hell Harry that took a long time,” you whisper, walking up to him. You hug him and don’t let go for at least two minutes. “Y/n,” he laughs, “What’s going on?” You pull away and say, “I don’t know. I’m just always scared that whenever you leave there’s a chance I’ll never see you again.” Harry looks at you intensely and whispers, “Do you really get scared of that?” Wordlessly you nod, looking down. He tilts your chin up and gives you a soft kiss. Trying to make you smile he says, “Not even death could take me from you.” You give him a small smile as he moves over to the armchair by the fire. You casually climb into his lap, curling up into him. “What did he say this time?” you ask. Harry sighs, “He really needs me to get that memory from Slughorn. Without it we won’t know how many horcruxes there are or any idea where the could be.” “Oh,” is all you can say. Harry audibly gulps and you reassure him, “You’ll get it Harry, I know you will.” Harry presses a kiss to your neck and mutters sleepily, “Thanks.” It wasn’t abnormal for people to find you and Harry curled up in the common room, having fallen asleep. That’s what happened tonight. 

Reconvening at dinner the next day Harry tells you of his failed attempt to get the memory. “He’s now avoiding me at all costs,” Harry groans. You gently rub his shoulders saying, “I’m sure it will be alright.” Harry laughs, “He kicked me out of his office and didn’t even acknowledge my presence in potions today.” “You’ll just have to wait it out and try again,” you tell him. “I suppose you’re right,” Harry concedes. “Always am,” you reply with a smirk. Kissing the top of his head you say, “Come on, let’s head back. Besides I haven’t seen Ron since lunch and I’m slightly worried.” “Alright,” Harry takes your hand and you walk back to Gryffindor tower. 

Entering the common room you look around and don’t see Ron. “I’ll check upstairs,” he says, bounding up the steps. You walk over to the fireplace and see Hermione entranced in her homework. “You okay ‘Mione?” you ask her. She looks up from her place on the floor and says, “What? Oh yeah I’m fine.” “Hermione it’ll get better,” you try to tell her. She groans, “I don’t know. I just wish things would go back to normal.” “I know what you mean,” you tell her. 

About to settle into your homework, Harry comes down the stairs, pulling a reluctant Ron. “What’s happening?” you walk up to them. Hermione follows, concern etched on her face. “Romilda Vane tried to slip me a love potion through some chocolates. Ron helped himself instead,” Harry grunts, pulling Ron towards the common room door. “Where are you going?” Hermione asks. Harry replies, “To Slughorn. He’ll fix this. Don’t worry, be back soon.” He flashes you a wink and then leaves, tugging Ron behind him.  

Every minute that Harry and Ron don’t return, Hermione grows even more anxious. “Hermione, I’m sure everything is fine okay? Harry had to get Ron to Slughorn’s office and you saw how loopy Ron was. It’s bound to take a little while,” you reassure her. She looks up at you and you’re surprised to see her crying. “Hermione what’s the matter?” you exclaim in worry. Wrapping your arms around her, you urge her to share. She sniffles, “I’m worried about him y/n.” You feel the utmost sympathy for her. “Hermione it’ll be okay. I promise,” you console her. She merely sobs into your shoulder. Her head pops immediately up when Harry bursts through the portrait hole, breathing tirelessly from sprinting up to the common room. “What is it?” you shoot to your feet. Harry sighs, “Ron was poisoned. He’s going to be okay, but he’s in the hospital wing. He’s gonna be there for a few days.” Harry waits for no reply, instead he turns and runs back to his friend’s side. Hermione and you sprint after him. 

Entering the hospital wing, your heart hurts to see Ron laying there, the palest you’d ever seen him. He looked ghastly. Hermione throws all caution aside and plants herself beside him, clutching one of his hands in her own. You watch on by Harry’s side. The drama only continues when Lavender comes into the room, seething at the sight before her. “What are you doing here?” she asks Hermione coolly. Hermione replies, “Ron’s my friend.” Lav scoffs, “I suppose you’re only here because he’s all interesting now.” Hermione laughs, “He’s been poisoned you daft bimbo! Besides, he wants me here I’m sure.” Lavender finds this hilarious. Ron begins to stir and Lavender smiles, expecting him to sense her presence. Instead, Ron moans out, “Her-mi-one. Her-mi-one.” You’re floored with surprise. Turning, you watch as Lavender runs from the room, sobbing endlessly. You shoot Hermione your biggest smirk and she looks away, muttering, “Shut up.” 

Ron is allowed to leave the hospital wing three days later. Harry had told you what happened. That the poisoned mead Ron drank was meant for Dumbledore. He had your suspicions and as much as you wanted to deter Harry from getting in a duel with Draco, you couldn’t help but agree with him that everything pointed towards the platinum haired Slytherin. Sighing, you sit down next to Harry in the common room, as he pours over his potions book. Gently taking it from his hands, you say softly, “Harry. It’s time to get that memory from Slughorn.” “How?” he asks you exasperated. “With a little help from Felix?” you offer the suggestion casually. He grins, “That’s brilliant! You’re brilliant y/n.” He plants a kiss to your forehead and runs up the stairs to his room. When he returns, he holds the vial tightly in his palm. Ron and Hermione approach the two of you. “What are you gonna do with that mate?” Ron asks him, gesturing to the vial. Harry responds, “It’s time for me to get that memory from Slughorn. Dumbledore says it’s the key to figuring out how to defeat Voldemort.” Ron nods. Harry looks from you, to Ron and Hermione. “Go on,” you encourage him. He downs the potion in one swallow. As he finishes the potion, a grin spreads widely across his face. Hermione tells him, “Right. Slughorn usually takes supper in his office, and then goes for a nightly walk. You’ll be able to find him I’m sure.” Harry stares at her and replies, “Right. I’m going to Hagrid’s.” He begins to walk towards the portrait hole. “Harry, wait what?” you call after him. He turns around to you and goes all doey eyed. “My beautiful y/n,” he walks over to you and cups your face gently. You suppress a laugh. It appears that Felix Felicis had the same effect as too much alcohol. “Harry you’ve got to find Slughorn,” you urge him, removing his hands from your cheeks. “I’ve got the feeling though that Hagrid’s is the place to be,” he argues. He turns to exit again. “Harry, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you ask desperately. He smiles, “No. But Felix does. I’ll see you guys later.” He exits Gryffindor common room. “I have a very bad feeling about this,” you groan, sitting next to Hermione. She laughs, “He did seem a bit drunk didn’t he?” Ron agrees, “Seemed bloody wasted more like it.” Eventually Ron and Hermione head to bed and you wait up for Harry, tapping your leg restlessly against the floor. 

The portrait hole opens at around midnight. “Harry!” you call out his name breathlessly. Shortcutting it, you step over the top of the couch, jumping into the green eyed boys arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. He catches you and holds you in his arms, his hands tucking underneath you to support your body. “Did you get it?” you ask him desperately. He grins, “I got it. Brought it to Dumbledore and saw it. He says he thinks he knows where one is. That we might go and get it soon.” Harry carries you over to the couch and sits down with you in his lap. “What did it say?” you ask about the memory. Harry’s eyes study you carefully. He confesses, “Slughorn’s the one that told him about the horcruxes. He split his soul into seven pieces. Seven.” You gulp nervously. Harry continues, “The diary from second year was one. The ring was another. But like I said, Dumbledore thinks he knows where the next one is.” “What a relief,” you sigh. Harry rubs your back affectionately and admits, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of how excited you always are to see me.” You respond, “I’ll always be excited to see you.” Harry gives you one last fleeting look before smashing his lips on yours. His hands roam across your waist and you tangle your own in his messy black hair. You can feel the passion rising in your chest and you desperately cling to him. Harry breathes heavily, his lips moving to your neck. “Harry,” you sigh breathlessly. He continues showering you with affection. Harry kisses you with a desperation you’d never felt from him before. His fingers dug into your skin, as if he was scared you might disappear from his grasp. “Harry wait,” you gasp, reluctantly pulling away from his lips. “What is it?” he asks you, concern etched in his eyes. “When you go to find this, this horcrux, promise me you’ll be careful okay? Promise me,” you plead with him. Harry looks at you and responds, “Of course I’ll be careful y/n. Why are you so worried about me lately? I mean besides the inevitable.” You gulp and avoid his gaze. “Y/n what is it?” he implores you. A tear comes to your eyes and you look up at his beautiful emerald green ones. “Harry I always worry about you. I’ve never stopped. As much as you may want me not to, I will always worry for you. Because I love you Harry. I do, I love you.” Harry sucks in a sharp breath and searches your gaze. In his heart, he wonders if this is really happening. The words slip from his mouth, “I love you y/n. I always have. Always will. My heart has always belonged to you.” You brush away a stray hair of Harry’s bangs. “I never thought we’d get this,” you admit. Harry sighs, “Me neither. I always thought the timing wouldn’t line up. But here we are, and I can’t believe how lucky I am.” Grinning wildly, you rest your head on Harry’s shoulders. “I love you Harry,” you whisper into the night. “I love you too y/n,” he repeats. Waiting up for Harry that night was the best decision you’ve ever made. It appears the liquid luck gave you and Harry the extra push you needed to confess your love for one another. But the next morning the luck ran out. 

You sat at breakfast beside Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Lifting cereal into your mouth, you drop your spoon as you watch who enters the great hall. “Harry look,” you nudge him, “It’s Katie. She’s out of the hospital.” Harry gasps and follows your gaze. Katie approaches the Gryffindor table quietly. Harry immediately stands and walks over to her. Worriedly, you follow him. Stopping in front of her, Harry asks quickly, “Katie, how are you feeling?” She gives him a small smile. “I’m okay Harry. Alive aren’t I? And before you ask Harry, I’m sorry. I don’t know who cursed me. I can’t remember a thing,” she tells him. Harry’s face falls and you place your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He manages a smile, saying, “I’m just glad you’re okay Katie.” She smiles in return. Looking behind you, the smile falls from her face and she stands frozen in fear. Turning slowly around, you see the platinum blonde haired boy she’s staring out. “Oh no,” you mutter under your breath. Harry’s eyes follow Katie’s gaze and they fall on Draco, anger seething from his look. Katie’s frightened look at Draco is all Harry needs to confirm his suspicions. Draco glances briefly at Harry and then Katie. Then he exits the great hall quickly. Harry races after him. “Harry wait!” you call after him. He ignores you. “Bloody hell,” you groan, running after your boyfriend. 

You skid to a halt outside the Great Hall and Harry and Malfoy are nowhere to be found. A floor above you, you hear the pounding of footsteps. “Shit,” you curse, sprinting up the steps. The footsteps came from near the bathroom. As you neared the door, your feet splashed in water on the floor. Kicking the door open, you hear curses flying and faucets breaking. “Harry!” you shout, searching for him amongst the chaos. Across the stalls on the other side of the room, you hear the sound of feet moving across the wet stone and watch helplessly as Draco tries to curse your boyfriend. “STOP!” you shriek desperately. But they were caught up in rage and no one listened to you. Harry shouts an unknown spell, “Sectum Sempra!�� And Malfoy’s body is thrown back by the magic, his form coming into view. He lays beneath the sinks, and you race forward, your feet sopping wet. Coming to a stop, standing over the Slytherin boy, you gasp in surprise. Blood seeped from his body. Harry comes halting to a stop next to you. “Harry what did you do?” you breathe in horror. Harry cries, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what that spell would do.” Behind the two of you, Professor Snape comes sweeping into the bathroom, kneeling over Draco’s body. Harry stands frozen. Draco’s body begins to heal, the wounds closing up. “Harry we have to go,” you grab his hand, pulling him backwards. “Harry,” you say urgently. Shaken from his daze, Harry finally turns to you, and the two of you run hand in hand back upstairs. 

Back in Gryffindor common room, Harry explains to your two other friends what happened. “Where did you learn that spell?” Hermione asks. Harry avoids her gaze, instead looking to his potions book. “Harry you didn’t,” Hermione gasps. His silence confirms the answer. “Harry, Snape saw you in the bathroom. We need to hide this book. Whose book is it anyways?” you ask, taking the book from his grasp. “The half-blood prince. Who is the half-blood prince?” you ask curiously. Harry shrugs, “Dunno.” Rising to your feet, you pull Harry along with you. “We need to get rid of the book. No one else can learn that spell. Now,” you declare. Harry has no choice but to follow you. 

You lead Harry to the room of requirement and he breathes, “Of course. Brilliant idea.” Closing your eyes, you concentrate on what you need the room to give you. And obliging to your request, the door appears and swings open. Squeezing Harry’s hand, you both enter the room of requirement. 

Before you is a complete maze of every item that’s ever been hidden in the room before. Various noises wash over your ears and without thinking, you stash the book deep in the room, dragging Harry along beside you. When you return to Gryffindor tower, extremely out of breath, Harry falls to the couch in the common room, sighing, “Thank you. I didn’t know what to do. I was just… frozen. I didn’t know it would hurt him like that.” “I know baby, I know,” you stroke the back of his head. 

A non-stop wave of rain passes over the castle for the next week. And on the last day before your scheduled exams, Harry announces to the group that Dumbledore wants them to depart for the supposed location of the next Horcrux. Worry coursed through you and you felt your heart nearly ripped out of your chest when Harry departed with Dumbledore. 

Hours later, you stand pacing the common room. “What is taking them so long?” you blurt out at Hermione and Ron. Ron shrugs and Hermione replies, “He’s with Dumbledore y/n, I’m sure that he is safe.” And almost as if to defy her logic, there’s a loud crashing through the sky and you turn to look out the window, seeing possibly the worst thing you could have imagined. The dark mark rose high above the astronomy tower. “Harry!” you state, barely above a whisper. Before they can stop you, you race out of the common room, sprinting across the castle. 

Your lungs burned as you made your way to the astronomy tower, but a loud noise stopped you. You heard a great crashing noise near the great hall and cackles of Bellatrix Lestrange’s notorious estranged laughter. Worry rises in your throat and you detour, running towards the great hall. Skidding to a stop, you see Harry exiting the castle. “HARRY!” you shriek desperately. But he doesn’t hear you, blinded with emotion. If possible, you pump your feet even harder and try to close the distance between the two of you. Blood rushes in your ears and you barely make out the cry of Fawkes across the castle grounds. Your eyes narrow in on Harry sprinting after Snape and Bellatrix, straight towards Hagrid’s hut. With a flick of her wand, Bellatrix sets his house on fire. Cries are heard from within and the building begins to collapse. Hagrid is nowhere to be found and you realize that Fang must be in there. Without a second thought, you cover your face and sprint into the flames. Coughing loudly, you croak, “Fang!” The dog answers with a cowering whine in the corner of the hut. Flames lick at your legs, burning  the fabric into your skin, but you push onward, fueled with adrenaline, lifting the dog into your arms like a baby. Sputtering up smoke, you stumble out the door and put the dog down, who howls, racing towards the castle. In the midst of saving Fang, Harry has disappeared. His screams reach your ears near the castle, and your feet tirelessly carry your burned body towards the boy you loved. 

Your heart stopped when you discovered him. Silence rushed in your ears as Harry knelt over Dumbledore’s limp body. His cries broke you. They were worse than anything you had ever heard. The thought of Dumbledore now gone made you fear for Harry more than ever before. You drop to your knees beside the headmaster’s body, cursing this night into oblivion. Pain overtakes your body, the burns becoming too much to bear. You collapse onto your side in the grass, succumbing to unconsciousness as the smoldering of your skin finally begins to stop.

[memescomicswriting]

The Man That Got Away

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Leaving the most wonderful woman Bucky’s ever met was the biggest regret of his life and he never expected to see her again. But magic tends to have a mind of its own.

A/N: This is for #SherrysFallIntoYouChallenge ( @sherrybaby14 )  and yes I know “The Man that Got Away” was released in 1954 with A Star is Born (ft. Judy Garland and you should watch it), but we’re going to pretend it was released nine years earlier so this story makes sense. Okay? Okay. Also, I finished this in a caffeine haze so judge me. 

My Masterlist

...

The street lamps of the city seemed to radiate a cheerful glow now that the war was over. Couples started roaming the streets again. It wasn't like the mayhem of victory, but the steady normalcy that existed before. It all seemed like a blurry dream to Bucky; familiar but odd. Foggy as the dream was, the city's air had alluring magic in the air tonight which pushed Bucky towards his destination. He hoped he was heading in the right direction. Steve hastily wrote the note and slipped it under Bucky's door during his morning jog. It listed the party, the address, and instructions on how to get there. Bucky hadn't attended many parties since his return home, but for Steve, he'd make an appearance. Besides, it was Halloween and for the new Shield group. If not now, then when? The bar was along a street with other bars and clubs in Brooklyn. Like the rest, it was decked for Halloween. The fuzzy illumination of the sign obscured the readability but Bucky made out the name Enchanted; how fitting for the season. Caricatures of witches, cats, ghosts, and ghouls decorated the outside. When he stepped in, it was just as seasoned. Jackolanterns lined the carpet entrance. The club's atmosphere was dimmed by lights covered in red and orange shades. Along with the fog and smoke, it created a mystic and romantic feel. The smell of smoke was thick but cut with the crisp scent of fall every time the door opened. This was the kind of place Bucky would take his dream girl; if he had her.

A hostess caught his attention and took his coat. On his request, she directed him to Steve, who was off chatting with Peggy and some men from the government agency. They were all friends, not bureaucrats. They faced away from the stage and the Bing Crosby cover artist who occupied the stage. The night's host came into the light, but Bucky paid no attention to entertainment. He quietly joined the group and after the hellos, pats on the back, and a hug from Steve, Bucky molded into the background of the group. The next singer was announced and the group began shifting and looking over as the host began chatting up the entertainer. They wanted to watch the performance so they slowly migrated away from the bar and to a booth with a view. The host raised his hand in the direction of the circular spotlight. "Ladies and gentlemen, please show your love to the bewitching Ms. Y/N!" Bucky's throat knotted. Outstepped the most gorgeous woman alive. She dawned a form-fitting black dress that could have come from the set of "I Married a Witch." Like Veronica Lake, it slinked over her body like water. Though it was long-sleeved and touched the floor, the fit and the cuts in the chest and leg left little to the imagination. When she moved, the fabric caught the light and moved on its own. It matched the headband that sported a small witches hat, fitting for the vixen. Her hair was curled in long waves which framed her face well. It brought out her sparkling eyes and bright red lips. She dripped magic even before she began to sing. Y/N was the femme fatal. The grand piano struck chords like lightening and the band followed. It was a dragging jazz symphony with independent saxophones. The band gave a condensed version of the melody before she began to sing. But oh, when she did Bucky was lost. *** Bucky was in a coma for a month following his fall. When he woke up, he heard Steve saved the East Coast. Along with the rest of the Hollowing Comandos, he was closing in on Berlin. The war would be over in weeks, but Bucky was missing all the action while stuck in his hospital bed. Three days after waking up, he was moved into a common room filled with fellow casualties. Granted, miraculously, all Bucky had was a rapidly healing but torn up arm. He insisted to the deaf ears of his doctors, that he was fine. He could be moved to processing so he could return to his buddies. The moment he felt he had the strength, he surged out of bed. He hadn't realized a month in a coma would leave his legs limp. He tumbled over and onto the floor; causing a small scene to all those around. The most beautiful woman rushed to his aid. She was dolled up in a dignified trench coat and khaki dress. It was governmental in look, but she wore no colors. Her makeup was done, unlike other female army officials. She had cherry red lips, that in spite of Bucky's foolishness, curled most fondly. Her hair was curled in the modern, starlit fashion. If he put her against the wall, she'd look like a pin-up. The British soldier she was previously conversing with was annoyed, and despite the obvious flush of embarrassment on Bucky's cheeks, he didn't regret the fool he made out of himself. Once her hands touched his chest and back in support, a jolt of electricity ran through his body. There was a tingling sensation creeping into his body from the spots her hands met his skin and it livened his body. He felt warm for the first time in weeks and without the need of help, but the eager acceptance of it, Bucky got up and sat down in his little nook. "What's the rush soldier?" She elegantly placed herself next to Bucky on his cot. He didn't know that sitting could be so gracefull, especially while supporting a goofy soldier. She held onto him until she was sure he was alright. "The war's not missing ya."  Her voice was light but not too chipper. She was soft and alluring with a voice that dripped like running honey. Bucky huffed. She was clever and he had a difficult time with a clever woman. "I'm sure the war isn't, but my buddies might be." He bit the inside of his cheek, punishing himself for sounding so brash. "Aha, well America's finest has written some letters. Maybe if you weren't as stubborn as an ass, you'd notice them in your table drawer." She leaned over and snatched them. She handed them over with a wink and her hand brushed Bucky's. It was so soft but electric. Bucky opened his mouth to speak but quickly pinched his lips together. He already looked like a fool, he didn't need his words to confirm it, again. He turned over each envelope. There were three, all unopened, and all from Steve. "He's glad you're getting well." She patted his hand with the envelopes. Bucky blinked and shifted his glance to the mystery woman in front of him. "You know Steve?" She chuckled a melodic chuckle with her head tilted back. She acted like everything was so obvious, even a child could figure it out. It didn't make Bucky feel too confident and he blushed. "Oh love," She placed a gentle hand on his. "I'm a girl with a way about her." "Ain't that the damn truth." He thought to himself. With that, she stood up. Bucky followed the sway of her hips as she moved around his bed, habitually tidying it a bit. "Get some rest and catch up with Captain Rogers. You'll be back to your reckless choices in no time." The light her smile radiated dimmed the further she walked. Down the long line of cots, the specific charms of her faded, but she still lingered like a candle flame in the dark. She waved and joked with other men she passed. All their attitudes brightened as she passed; more so than they would for any other woman passing by. She was more than the nurses to them. Eventually, she was a blimp in the background but Bucky could see her stop at another soldier's bed. It was odd. The only females allowed around soldiers were nurses. He wasn't in a stateside infirmary, otherwise family could visit. Yet here was a goddess amongst a string of injured wolves, but she had no fear. She roamed the lines of cots like she owned the damn place. Bucky rolled his shoulders back thinking they were sore but to his surprise, they weren't nearly as bad as they'd been the day before. He chalked it up to the schoolboy rush he felt. Within minutes, that enchantress had her claim on Bucky's heart. *** Some couples swayed in dance. It was a good song to get close to a dame, but Bucky remained on the outside with Steve. Surprisingly, he wasn't out there with Peggy. They could hardly keep their hands to themselves these days. "And all because of the man that got away. No more his eager call. The writings on the wall..." Her voice was strained and pulling in the emphasis of her despair. Despite the pain, the song glossed over the crowd like a siren's melody. It pulled the couples closer and made the singles itch for someone to touch. A spell had been cast over the crowd. "Isn't she great?" Steve whispered in Bucky's ear, which made him jump from his enchantment. Steve snickered but continued. "She's Peggy's friend; known her since the start of the war. They've got a long backstory." Bucky nodded along with Steve but maintained his distant guard. "Yeah, she's someth'n man." *** The rolling hills of the Normandy hospital were breathtaking. He imagined if the roles were reversed, Steve might enjoy his stay. He could recover while drawing and painting the landscape. Instead, Bucky was trapped with little to do other than listen to grumbling Brits and Americans complain about being bedridden like him. Though they were seeking to be sent home, not back into the thick of it like him. He was called out of his solitude by an overly amused voice. "If your intent was hiding, you need to work on your hiding places." In a poof of fabric, the girl from a week ago sat down next to Bucky. She took to nature like she was a part of it. The sun gleamed off of her like the ancient statues he saw in Greece. Her fingers wove into the grass like tree roots. Her whole body relaxed. "If anything, I'm looking for a means of escape." He quipped, looking over her with a raised brow. She was the most curious creature he'd ever encountered, and he'd met a lot of women. "Now Sergent Barnes," She warned playfully. "The boys aren't that bad." Bucky snorted. "You're not stuck with them all day and night." Then he paused, frowning in thought. "How do you know who I am?" "I deliver your mail." As if on cue, she chucked another letter from Steve over to him. He carried on. "And how do you know Steve?" "Mutual friends." She replied as if it were just that obvious. "You know, girls aren't usually allowed in the infirmary with the soldiers." He teased, looking to stir a reaction. She nudged him with her shoulder. "Well, I'm not any girl." Then she looked around for any nearby person and leaned in like she was going to share top-secret information. "I'm a woman." Bucky's face deadpanned, looking straight at her. She combusted into a laughing fit and fell back onto the grass. It took her a minute to calm herself enough to prop her head upon her elbow. "You're impossible." Bucky huffed again. "Quite the contrary Sergent Barnes." She flashed him a Chesire grin. "I'm very easy if you just ask." He nearly choked on his own spit and she was sent into another laughing fit. "I can see why you're popular amongst the other soldiers." With her head back on the grass and gaze on the clouds, she sighed. "I'm popular because I'm a woman who's attention is on them and not their temperature or blood pressure. I see them and they appreciate it. I don't need to be so flamboyant with them to gain their attention." She turned her head to look up at him with thick lashes. Her hair draped over her chin and veiled her lips. All Bucky could think of for a moment was pushing her hair back and smoothing a finger over her lips. "So you do go out of your way for me?" He met her eyes and tilted his head in question. "I was asked to check in on you, but you don't exactly make it easy." She sighed, but her cheeks raised with a growing smile. "D'Steve ask you too?" His accent thickened with the idea of his Brooklyn pal. She began playing with the grass, continuing the conversation in her own little world with Bucky. "No, I've actually never had the pleasure of meeting Captain Rogers or corresponding with him. A mutual friend asked on his behalf. She was concerned about him." "Peggy?" He asked. She hummed a yes in response. He went on to ask."And how do you know Peggy?" "Peggy knows all the spies of course, and when I retired from my spying because I was no longer needed- thanks to your Captain, I turned my war efforts to helping the soldiers where I could." Then she shrugged, trying to conceal her disappointment. "I may not be allowed to fight, but I can give comfort." "Mmm.." Bucky thought on that. "So what? You travel around infirmaries and comfort the wounded?" "About that." She nodded her head in agreement. "Between stops, I'll do shows for nearby camps. That's what I did before I became a spy." Bucky was puzzled. She was a performer, but he didn't recognize her. At least, he didn't recognize her at first. Then it began to piece together. The lips and the trending fashion, her quirky cheerfulness, being a performer- she was Y/N, the ex-patriot Hollywood starlit. All the tabloids said she was lost to the war, but here she was in front of him. Bucky groaned at himself and his stupidity. "I'm an idiot." "Well yes," She said bluntly. "But I don't mind it. You make up for it in your good looks." His eyes shot wide and to her. No other dame he'd encountered been as forward as her. First, he thought it was her fame, but none of the tabloids talked about any other female celebrity's brazen attitude. "Beg your pardon?" He chocked on his words as they came out. "Called you handsome, soldier." Her brows peaked, but not in annoyance, but questioning. "What has the war taken away your ability to flirt with a woman?" "No." He quickly shook his head. "You're just something else. You're...wonderful." *** She crooned on. Every sentiment, she made eye contact with another person, pouring her emotions into them. "The man that won you has run off and undone you. That great beginning has seen the final inning. Don't know what happened. It's all a crazy game" Howard came up next to Bucky and patted him on the back. "God, isn't she the greatest performer that you've ever seen?" He straightened his tie up and smoothed over his suit. Bucky knew that attitude. Stark was looking to bag her. Bucky swallowed back his annoyance with the first drink he spotted. He wanted to ring Stark out for pursuing Y/N, but he had no justifiable reason to even stop Stark's advances. *** There was a town less than a mile away from the hospital. Even though it lacked many of the goods it had before wartime, Y/N always made her way back from the small but growing market with treats for the boys. For some it was cigarettes that didn't taste like government-issued cardboard, others bake goods, and some asked for little gifts or pressed flowers to send home to their girls or families. She went twice a week so everyone who needed or wanted something got it within two weeks. For Bucky, whatever he asked for, he got that day. Once he asked for playing cards because the decks belonging to the other soldiers were either incomplete or rigged. If he had to pass time, he might as well do it with something semi-entertaining. To his amazement, she came back that day with a beautifully printed deck of cards. "Where the hell did you swipe something as good as this?" Bucky went off without thought as he was caught up in the cards. "Not hell," Her signature Cheshire grin crept onto her face. This time, it was illuminated by the sunset dying on the horizon and the candle on Bucky's bedside table. Her eyes dazzled in the glow like they were lights themselves. "That's for sure. I have my ways. A little bit of magic." It was light-hearted, but Bucky's gaze shifted to her suspiciously. "You know..." He began. "My shoulder's gotten a lot better over the past few weeks. I'd say it's back to what it was before my fall and I have complete dexterity throughout my hand." "That's great Sarg." Her voice swayed like sweet garden charms. Maybe the bells from the town sounded off as well, but he could have sworn he heard layers to her voice. "That means the doctors are doing their job and all the rest I'm forcing you to get is working." "Yeah, maybe you're right. My sleeping has impr-" He caught himself as his train of thought moved without him. Suspicious, he eyed her but not out of mistrust but genuine curiosity. She was already a compilation of mystery and he was trying to solve one layer. "Ever since you came into my life, my health's improved. It's like you're a lucky charm or someth'n." He could have sworn he heard her say "or something," but her lips didn't move. She batted her lashes a few times and her smile shifted from cheeky to sincere. "I do think I've helped you get better, by kicking your sorry butt into gear so you'd listen to your doctors and rest." Bucky snorted at her suggestion. Man was she one powerful woman, and in all fairness, she had kicked his butt into shape despite himself. "Yeah, some magic your foot's got there. One powerful kick." She chuckled at his insinuation. Her hand landed on his knee and again a bolt of contagious electricity shot through him. Suddenly, he was laughing with her. "Oh Barnes, kicking boys like you around is what I do best." There was a mutually shared exchange of fondness between them that was magnetic. If there weren't so many prying eyes around he would have taken her into his arms there and kissed all the air out of her. He'd save that for later that night when they could sneak off to their own little corner of the world. Then she shook her head and pulled herself out of the moment. Her throat cleared and it pulled Bucky back to the world around them. "I'm gonna go drop off the other goodies. When I get back, I'll kick your butt again, but in poker." Bucky grinned as he already began shuffling the cards through his fingers. "I'd like that." He smiled up at her an eager smile. *** "Good riddance, goodbye. Every trick of his you're on to, but, fools will be fools. And where's he gone to?" She cried out. Pain and agony morphed into bitter confusion but no one other than Bucky seemed to notice the song was more than a song. It was a release. He noticed Peggy shift her eyes to him. Maybe she saw it for what it was aswell. Yet, in her eyes, pure confusion turned into confused acceptance. She could see Bucky's attachment. He shrugged her off as he was pulled back into the song. He could swear there was something otherworldly to it. Knowing Y/N, maybe there was. What was clear, was the distress in the performance. There was a call to it of "Someone notices me. Someone really notice me." *** Immediately following the war, Y/N was sent to DC. Peggy, Steve, Stark, and other war leaders were called to DC. Bucky, being healthy enough to travel could follow Y/N and join Steve with the other Howling Commandos. Y/N acquired one of the few passenger planes running from Europe to the US. She preferred that over traveling with a bunch of caged up soldiers who hadn't seen a woman in months. Bucky traveled with her and they arrived in DC together a day before the meetings began. They had private time together in Normandy, but nothing like the freedom of DC. They didn't have to sneak out and sneak around officers to be alone. In DC, they can walk down the street holding hands and go out to dinner. They were a magical fifteen hours and Bucky knew it was all too good to be true. A telegram arrived at Bucky's hotel room the night before the meetings. The army rerouted a post intended for Europe to Bucky. The original letter was addressed to one of his camps from many months prior. Steve moved the Commandos around so it was normal to receive letters later than the stationed boys. This was nearly three months late. He read the emotionless typewriter font despite the confusion and then, despite the denial. He hadn't seen Dot since the holiday relieve Steve was able to acquire for him. He wanted to assure his Ma that he was alright. Unsurprisingly, he saw Dot; or rather, Dot found him. Upon hearing of his stay over, Dot appeared on his doorstep. And well... he was a man after all and he hadn't seen a dame that spoke English in over a year. So yeah, they slept together. Now Dot was pregnant, with his child. Bucky's gaze shifted to Y/N who patiently got herself ready for bed while waiting on Bucky to join her. She had her second stocking midway down her leg and even though she was undoing herself for the night, the intimacy of it all was the sexiest thing Bucky had ever seen. He was entirely and happily bewitched by her. But it was because he loved her, that he had to break her heart. God knows he didn't want to. He wanted to burn the letter and never think about Dot again. He hadn't thought of Dot since the second he laid eyes on Y/N, but his mom would box his ears in and Steve would kill him for leaving a child without a father. "Y/N?" He cooed softly from his place by the door. "Hmm?" She replied from her place at the vanity. She peered up at him through thick lashes, bent over, taking care of her stockings. The slight actions were mesmerizing. Bucky's throat croaked with the hard gulp he made at the sight, but it pulled him out of the moment. "Y/N sweetie." He strode over to the bed's edge by the vanity and plopped down. Noticing that something was off, mainly that Bucky hadn't pounced her yet, her confused eyes searched and landed on the telegram. "What's wrong?" Her brows knitted together as her concerned gaze met Bucky's somber eyes. "I received a well-delayed message from New York." His hand scratched the growing locks near his neck that Y/N loved to toy with so much. There would be no sweet sentiments now. Suddenly, Bucky popped up and began quickly pacing the floor. "I just, I don't understand. It was one time and I was so careful. In all the letters nothing is mentioned...even ends things!" He swiftly turns back to Y/N, exasperated. "But this one, the one that comes late, that's the kicker!" He dramatically huffs and collapses on the bed. Y/N crawled up next to him and sat on her knees facing him. She looked over him worried and pulled his head into her lap. "James," Her voice was smooth and hushed. A wave of focussing calm washed over Bucky. "what's the matter?" "Dot's pregnant." He admitted blatantly. When Y/N's hands retracted and she began to move away, Bucky propped himself up to catch her. "I'm so sorry Y/N. I'm so, so sorry to do this to you. If I had known I never would have..." She shot him a wicked warning of a glance and he shut up. "Never would have started something with me. I know your character Bucky. You're not like that. It's why I allowed myself to grow fond of you." Fond. Not love, but fond. Already she began detaching herself and it scared Bucky. Desperately, he clasped her hands in his. He was upright now and kneeling with Y/N. "Say the word and I won't go. I won't leave you and we can run away from our responsibilities. We can go out west for your career and I'll never step foot in Brooklyn again." Her hands slipped from his grasp and against his best efforts, he couldn't chase after her as she left the bed. "We both know that if I let you do that, you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life. I can't let that happen." Quickly, she began stuffing her stockings and the other attachments she had taken off in her bag. She had her own room with the rest of her things. "The pain'll be worth it though," He declared meekly. "If I got you." His eyes were tear-filled as were Y/N's. He was a man pleading on his knees for his sugar girl, dynamite, enchantress to stay. She dashed back to him and for an instant Bucky had hope. Her soft lips planted on his forehead like they were imparting a seal to send away. He knew then that it was over. "And my pain will be worth it if you keep your soul." She then pulled away and wiped the tear streams from her cheeks. "You're going to go home and live a wonderful life Bucky. You may be afraid and angry at first but that'll all change when you meet your child. Yes, it'll hurt but you'll find someone else who makes you just as happy if not more. And everything will be magical again." She leaned over and gave his lips the sweetest kiss; filled with passion, love, and starlight. With only mere seconds of touch, he was out of breath. "This," She whispered against his lips. "I promise." Bucky couldn't fight for her as she walked out. He was frozen in place and forced to watch the most amazing creature walk out of his life. Once the door closed, he pounced. Able to free his limbs from their slumber spell he darted out the door but Y/N was nowhere to be seen. He spent a few hours pleading and pounding on her door. Eventually, security gave him the option of going back to his room or being kicked out. He chose his room. He had hoped Y/N would still participate in the post-war meetings, but as he suspected, she was gone. When he broke the news to Steve, he was uncharacteristically silent. Though the conversation was between the two men, word got back to Peggy. Knowing Steve, he probably blabbed without any pressure. He couldn't keep a damn thing from that woman. For the rest of DC Peggy did everything but smile in Bucky's direction. Hell, if she wasn't surrounded by higher-ranking officials she may have shot him. He did deserve it. *** Bucky shook himself out of the fog of memories when Steve elbowed him in the ribs. "Straighten up Buck and be a gentleman. Peggy's com'n back with her friend." "Gentlemen," Peggy nodded to Steve, Bucky, and Howard who all clumped together in a semicircle. "I'd like you to meet the best spy the Allies I had." Outstepped Y/N from behind Peggy. Before Y/N could speak, Howard jumped at the chance to take her hand. "Miss Y/N, after hearing all about you it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Howard Stark, the best contractor the Allies had. What a coincidence to have to of the best assets to the Allies in one room." After a kiss, Howard allowed Y/N to take her hand back. Only Bucky could see the sparkle of amusement in Y/N's eye that masked her desire to burst into a laughing fit at Howard's antics. "Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark. And Steve!" Her attention enthusiastically shifted to Steve. "I'm so glad to finally meet you after the storm Peg's talked up about you." Steve side-eyed Peggy as slyly as he could. "Is that so? And what has she said? She's a mystery to me some days and I'd love a few clues." Peggy blushed and after playfully swatting him, linked their arms together. Y/N's smirk was feline as she shifted her focus to Peggy and then back to Steve. "That you're the sweetest and most handsome idiot this side of the Atlantic. Steve's jaw dropped in astonishment as the rest of the group burst into chuckles, snorts, and giggles. Before Steve could give a retort or anyone else comment, Y/N shifted her attention to Bucky. "Hello Sarg," Her rich voice washed over Bucky's ears like another melody. She was poised with one hand on her hip and leg bent. "It's good to see you again." Steve's jaw closed and he cocked his head to the side. "You know'r Bucky?" It was directed towards Bucky but his gaze was fixed on Y/N. Peggy frowned up at Steve. He was the biggest idiot this side of the Atlantic. "Yeah," Bucky nodded slowly in agreement. However, he was too transfixed with Y/N to turn in Steve's direction. " Y/N delivered mail to all the boys in my hospital. She did a bang-up job at keeping all our spirits up." "Some were easier than others." Y/N fondly grinned while talking to Steve. "Your pal overhear was a difficult nut to crack." "I wasn't exactly the happiest patient until I had something more important than getting back to my pals." He nodded in agreement. Noticing that he had no chance of getting anywhere and feeling coerced into silence for long enough, Howard interjected. "Well, I'm going to go get a drink." "I think I'm in the mood for a Manhattan." Peggy seconded the drink idea and nudged Steve along. Bucky and Y/N could hear Steve grumble. "But you already got a Brooklyn." As he was dragged away. The exit wasn't all too smooth. Y/N's and Bucky's attention slowly drifted back together. "How's it been soldier?" "Y/N-" Bucky began to plead but she stopped him. "How's the baby?" She followed up. "Baby?" Bucky's thoughts were lost for a minute in Y/N but he was suddenly hurled to the reason why they were parted. "Oh, the baby! He's fine, healthy, and better yet with his parents." Y/N gave him a quizzical look so he continued. "Dot and her husband have a house on Statin Island. They're there with the baby." "Bucky," She warned. "You didn't?" "I have blue eyes, Dot has blue eyes, and the baby has brown eyes. As cute as the kid is, he's not mine." Bucky shrugged nonchalantly like the entire ordeal hadn't ruined his life. "Dot slept with another officer right before I returned home. Some Italian commander and he's a good guy, and when she called him up with the news he came and took my place." For the first time since he met Y/N, she was silent from a lack of words. A million thoughts raced across her face. The disbelief lasted the longest, then a wave of anger that calmed into acceptance. "I need a drink." She blurted out. "A strong one." She mumbled to herself as she strode away from Bucky and to the nearest bar. "Gin tonic. Light on the tonic." She nodded to the nearest bartender who nodded in response. Bucky snuck up behind her. "Make it two." He stood behind one of the bar stools and his arm draped across the gap Y/N was standing in and rested on the other stool. She was trapped by him. Y/N narrowed her eyes in a disapproving manner but Bucky didn't allow it to crawl under his skin. "What?" He asked casually. "Bucky," She warned. "We shouldn't be doing this." Her arms folded over her chest and though it was meant to show her caveat, it didn't help with how it pressed her breasts up. "What?" He questioned again with pretend naiveness. "Two old friends getting a drink?" "We're no friends." She quickly corrected. Bucky looked down with a suggestive smirk. "You're right, we're not." Y/N huffed in increasing annoyance. "God I wish I could turn you into a dog. It'd fit how you're acting." Bucky snorted. "You wouldn't." Then he took one over hands in his and his expression morphed into something sincere. "Even if I have a lot of begging to do." "Bucky..." Y/N began warning him but her resolve had weakened. "I know it's selfish to ask, because I hurt you so much, but do you think you could forgive me one day? I know it won't be today or even tomorrow, but hopefully one day you can see past how much of a punk I am and let me love you again." The club suddenly felt empty to Y/N. Despite the crowds pushing around it was just her and Bucky in the entire place. For someone who always knew what to say and when, her voice was locked away. Her head hung low from trying to conceal her expression. Bucky brought his free hand to cradle her chin between his large fingers. He tilted her chin up so he could look in her eyes. Now, he could clearly see the agonizing mix of emotions that were masked by the stage lights. "I can't have my heart broken again." Her eyes wouldn't meet his and he pleaded. "Y/N." He cooed and her eyes glanced over his before settling. "I won't hurt you ever again. It'll be you and me like it was always meant to be. No war, no baby, no interruptions. I promise." "How can I let my heart trust you again?" She wondered allowed. Her eyes sparkled in the dim lights of the club. Rays of color reflected off the tears in her eyes. "I don't know." He replied earnestly and honestly. "But I'm willing to do whatever you need so you can let me back in." Y/N reached up and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. There was nearly no resolve left, and when he turned into her touch all of it was gone. She knew how to play with fire, but this was hellfire. Accepting his touch was scorching her to the bone but the thought of his love was an aching sweet relief. She wasn't certain who leaned into who and who initiated the kiss, but soon they were in a searing lip lock. They didn't need the roaming of hands or intertwining of limbs, yet, to feel the reverent passion held for one another. The kiss said it all. Eventually, Bucky parted from her. His lips were a swollen red from the kiss and his cheeks deeply flushed. Y/N however, looked as manicured as before. Her lipstick remained unsmudged despite the fearsome lovemaking. Bucky cleared his throat once he had enough air. "We... we-ah should go somewhere where we can talk." "Talk," Y/N smiled mischievously and pushed Bucky stumbling back so she could walk free from his trap. She snatched his beefy hand in her dainty one and pulled him along with her. "Sure, soldier. Let's go talk." Together, they made their way past prying eyes and to the coat check by the entrance. Bucky helped Y/N put on her dazzling designer number before he shrugged his on. He may be kiss whipped, but he was still a gentleman. Then they made their way out the exit of the club. The chill of the night air didn't seep into his bones anymore and Y/N appeared to thrive off of it. The autumn moon and the walloping gusts of wind softened around the couple just like magic. They were like any other couple walking down the illuminated street. They both were bundled up in layers except for their hands which were interlocked. The warmth that this generated radiated enough to keep them warm. Occasionally, Bucky would twirl her around in a little romantic dance or pull her flush against him and give her a quick peck on the lips that lingered into a full-blown kiss. "You know I could have taken us home. My rides flying around here somewhere." Turning from Bucky's embrace, Y/N searched the night sky for a dark outline. With a booming whistle, a broom came soaring down from the sky and into Y/N's outstretched hand. Bucky's chest erupted into a booming laugh and it reverberated against Y/N. At seeing her confusion, he kissed her nose and twirled her out of his hold and back into a walking position. "Not tonight dear, let's enjoy the leisurely stroll in your witching weather." Bucky didn't have to look at Y/N to know the secretive smile which she tried to hide with the press of her lips. He did catch the smooth movements of her fingers that were quickly followed by a gust of wind wrapping them up and pushing them together for a kiss once again.

...

Happy Halloween!

[cherryeol04]

The Firsts

Summary: No one ever told him that living was going to be so difficult. That there would emotions get couldn’t label and distinguish. He’s just a young boy trying to navigate through life and its unexpected ups and downs.

Genre: Humor, Fluff, smut(?)

Pairings: Oc x Felix, Oc x Changbin, Changbin x Oc x Felix

Warnings: poly relationship, angst in some part, excessive fighting about the MCU.

Parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17

A/N: This story has a theme of Firsts. First love, first kiss and many other firsts. Each part can be read on their own and are meant to stand as oneshots. It’s basically a collection of oneshots (little snapshots into my Oc’s life. 😁)

Aiden tackled Changbin onto the floor the moment the other opened the door. Groans of pain left both of them as Aiden scrambled closer and laid himself over Changbin, hands clutching at his shirt. “Jesus Christ, Aiden. What the hell?” Changbin wheezed out between pained gasps and confused grunts as the smaller of the two wiggled himself into a comfortable position on top of Changbin. Changbin was hesitant, but after a long pause of silence, he wrapped his arms around Aiden and stroked his head gently. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked gently. Aiden shook his head quickly, burying his face into Changbin’s neck as he clung even tighter to him. “What’s wrong?” The worry in Changbin’s voice pulled a whimper from Aiden as he slowly pulled back and stared down at him. 

“Felix wants to kiss me.” He whispered. Changbin raised a brow, a tsk leaving him as he rolled his eyes. 

“Seriously? You nearly kill me because your boyfriend wants to kiss you?” He asked as he shoved Aiden off of him, the younger male falling to the side with a pathetic whine. “Then just kiss him.”

“I don’t know how!” Aiden wailed, arms flailing about on the floor as he kicked his feet haphazardly, nearly hitting Changbin’s stomach a few times. “I’m gonna suck! And then he’s gonna dump me and date someone who knows how to kiss! Someone who’s totally more experienced than me and would fit him better and -“ Aiden was silenced when Changbin leaned over him, giving him a hard stare. It was breathtaking. Changbin was breathtaking and if it weren’t for the fact he was already dating Felix, maybe Aiden could see himself with the other. But then again, that was also his best friend who, for all Aiden knew wasn’t gay. Though there was that one time in Changbin’s room, so he had to be at least bisexual, right?

“You just got together with him and you’re already talking about insecurities. Come on dude, grow some balls. Felix isn’t like that.” Changbin told him with a huff as he sat back. 

“I know that. Felix is wonderful. So funny, and cute and cuddly - I just want to pinch his cheeks!” Aiden cooed, a wide smile on his lips as he thought back to the last time he hung out with Felix and just how gorgeous he was with his freckles so prominent against his tan skin. 

“Gross.” Changbin gagged and Aiden pouted, kicking him lightly in the side.  “Even if he’s adorable and shit, it doesn’t take away from the fact that I don’t know how to kiss someone. What if I’m horrible at it?” Sitting up, Aiden sighed heavily as he stared at the floor. “I don’t want to be a bad kisser.

“Everyone is a bad kisser, Aiden. No one starts out as perfect. They only get that way by practice. So the more you kiss someone, the better you get.” Changbin advised with a nod of his head. Lifting his head, Aiden eyed Changbin suspiciously. 

“How would you know that? Who have you been kissing, huh?!” He asked, smirking as Changbin sputtered and tried to make up an excuse to not give him an answer.

“Hey! Listen here, this isn’t about me. It’s about you!” Changbin said quickly, but the slight flush on his cheeks told Aiden just how embarrassed his friend was. And now Aiden was curious as to who Changbin has been kissing. “If you’re that nervous, just practice on your hand.”

“My hand?”

“Yeah. Just keep kissing the back of your hand. Supposedly it helps.” Changbin shrugged. Aiden was a little skeptical about this, but he trusted Changbin, so he might as well as try out his advice. 

“Okay! I’ll try it and I’ll tell you how things go!”

“Please don’t. I can’t handle any more of your TMI phone calls in the middle of the night.” Changbin groaned. Aiden snickered as he stood up and dusted himself off. 

“Unfortunately you are just not gonna be that lucky. Wish me luck my friend, I have a date!” Aiden said with a renewed sense of confidence. 

“Are you shitting me? You have a date and yet you came here to cry?” Changbin asked as he stood up, arms crossed. 

“What can I say? I needed my friend’s support.” Aiden grinned as he waved to Changbin, leaving. 

~*~

Aiden shifted in the movie theater seat, scrolling through his Instagram feed as he waited for Felix to come back with their snacks. They had decided that Aiden would go in and get them decent seats before they were all taken and Felix would suffer through the long lines at the concessions to get them delicious treats. Though Aiden wasn’t sure if he would even eat half of whatever Felix brought back. Most of the time when he saw movies, he was too engrossed in what he was seeing to even care about eating popcorn or drinking his soda. However, he strangely always had to pee afterward.

“Okay.” Aiden jumped at the sudden voice and he looked up at the blonde standing next to him. “Popcorn.” Felix called off as he handed it to Aiden. “Soda.” Aiden took the offered beverage and place it in the cup holder of his armrest, Felix doing the same with his drink. “Candy.” Four different boxes were held up and Aiden stared in awe at his choices. M&Ms, Snow Caps, Skittles or gummy bears. He commended Felix on his choices, Aiden loved them all. 

“Do I only get one?” He asked, a slight pout playing on his lips as Felix chuckled. 

“Two. Or we could share all four.” He offered as he finally sat down next Aiden, resting the boxes in his lap. “Your choice.”

“My choice?” Aiden gasped out. “Wow, buys my ticket and gives me a choice in the snacks, what a gentleman.” He teased, laughing lightly. 

“Hey, I got to treat my date right.” Felix shrugged, smiling brightly under the dim lights of the theatre. 

“You’re doing great so far, A+! Keep it up and I’ll give you a tip afterwards.” 

“Oh? Well with such a promise, I’ll do my best to please you.” The teasing tone of Felix’s voice had Aiden blushing lightly as he realized the innuendos that could be drawn from his statement. Not that it was a bad thing, but the prospect of it did make Aiden nervous. 

“Okay then. I want to share all of them.” He finally decided and reached over to take the Snow Caps box, because they were indeed his favorite. There was a hum of acknowledgement as Felix worked on getting comfortable while shoveling a handful of popcorn in his mouth. Aiden worked on opening the box and pouring a few of the chocolate bites into his hand. His favorite thing to do with Snow Caps was to rub off the sprinkles on them and just eat all the chocolate first. Afterward, he would munch on the sprinkles - though he wasn’t exactly sure how that would work with sharing the food with Felix, but he’d figure something out eventually. 

The lights dimmed as the commercial for them to silence their phones played. Humming softly, Aiden popped a few more Snow Caps in his mouth as the previews started, his attention taken by the different movies that would be coming out within the next couple of months. There were few that caught his attention, mostly horror or the Marvel ones. He was so ready to watch Captain Marvel and End Game. But those were movies for another date. He had convinced Felix to instead watch a horror movie with him despite his pleas to not torture him like that. Settling back in his seat, his eyes scanned the large screen as the movie began and everything seem to just fade away around him. 

It had to be a good half an hour into the movie when he felt a hand touch his left shoulder and he jerked, biting back a scream. Whipping his head around, he stared at the hand that was resting comfortably on his shoulder and realization struck him quickly. Turning to his right, he looked at Felix who had a bemused smile on his face and he pouted. “Rude.” He whispered lowly, leaning closer to Felix so the other could hear him. 

“It was funny.” Felix snickered, fingers flexing and tightening a bit on his shoulder. Aiden’s heart raced as he leaned closer with Felix’s guidance and he laid his head on the blonde’s shoulder. It was the most awkward cuddling he had ever done for the simple fact that there was an armrest between them that was digging painfully into Aiden’s side. He used that pain as a distraction for how nervous he felt. He was actually cuddling Felix - and while they had cuddled before - this just felt so damn intimate. He wanted more, but there was only so much he could do in public, in a movie theatre. 

He tried his best to pay attention from then on, but it was hard. Everything about Felix was intoxicating - his smell, his touch, his existence. And despite being afraid of doing something to ruin the moment or embarrassing himself, Aiden really wanted to spend more time curled up against him. It was so nice. He was curious if Felix was being affected the same way he was, or if he was watching the movie. Shyly, he lifted his head slightly to peer up at him, breath hitching in his throat as he met such an intense gaze from his boyfriend. 

They were piercing right into his soul and warmth was spreading across his cheeks. Aiden averted his eyes quickly and was going to lower his head again but Felix gripped his chin with his other hand - fingers slick with the butter from the popcorn - keeping him from doing so. Aiden’s breathing picked up as Felix leaned closer and he knew this was it. Felix was going to kiss him and even though he wanted to push him away, his heart was screaming at him to sit there and accept it, so he did. 

Fireworks? Hell yeah. Tingles? All up and down his spine. Felix’s lips were soft and buttery as they slotted against his own. His eyes fluttered close as he focused on the feelings running through him - in awe at the way that just a little head tilt and slight movement of Felix’s lips against his could pull a soft moan from the back of his throat. It was soft, tender and way to fucking short. It only felt like a second had passed when Felix pulled away, Aiden leaning forward to chase after his lips for another kiss. The soft chuckle that left Felix had Aiden’s eyes opening and he pouted at him. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Felix whispered and Aiden blushed heavily as he finally pulled back and looked away. 

“Thank you.” Though he wasn’t sure if his voice could be heard over the movie. It didn’t matter though. Felix’s grip on his shoulder tightened again, pulling Aiden back against him. Aiden resumed his previous position, resting his head once more on Felix’s shoulder, eyes staring at the screen ahead, but his mind was anywhere but on the movie. 

He did it. He kissed Felix and it had been wonderful. And Felix didn’t pull away repulsed or anything. He just told him how beautiful he was. It made his heart flutter. All this time worrying was for nothing. And now that he had a taste, he wanted more. He couldn’t wait to get Felix back to his room so he could kiss him more.

[comickergirl]

Alright. Let’s give this a shot.

SPOILER-Y DISCUSSION OF CAPTAIN MARVEL, INCOMING:

I figure the best way to do this is chronological; my prior attempts have not been chronological, which might account for their feeling a little...all over the place and unorganized.

This will also be a good test to see how much of the film I remember.

RIGHT THEN: First and foremost, (and we gleaned this from the trailers, obviously) MEMORY-LOSS PLOT. Which is Classic Carol™. She’s lost her memory like. Four times.

(her poor brain D:)

All of this to say: The premise of the movie, a kind of reverse origin story in which Carol figures out who she is, in a very literal but also figurative sense, was a great way to go, IMO.

Love all the moments from Carol’s past. I was admittedly surprised that we didn’t get more of that? But what was there was effective and given the amount of ground the movie had to cover, I think it was sufficient.

So after the dreams** we get the early morning fight with Yon-Rogg (who I was absolutely certain was Yon-Rogg, in spite of all the back and forth speculation and Marvel attempting to ‘hide’ his identity) and there’s exposition, obviously, and the set up of Carol’s struggle with Yon-Rogg’s forced Kree values clashing with Carol’s humanity but MORE importantly...

PHOTON BLASTS.

Love the way they render the energy pulsing just below the surface of her skin. Looks so cool. 

Then: Chit Chat Time with The Great Intelligence!

I thought for sure it was gonna be Helen Cobb.

BOY WAS I MISTAKEN. (More on that in a sec.)

Favorite Visual #1: The slow pan of Starforce and the excellent shot of Carol’s helmet as they swim to shore on Torfa.

The whole rescue mission sequence/Carol’s kidnapping is...Truly a Highlight, in my opinion.

I mean!

She’s running around the enemy ship! Without her boots! Pummeling the Skrulls with unwieldy metal shackles! And growling in their faces!

#BOSSOFSPACE

Also, comic connection alert: Carol was kidnapped and experimented on by the Brood, which resulted in her stint as Binary.

So, back to the movie:

Talos man.

TALOS.

We’ll get to him later.

Okay what month of 1995 does Captain Marvel take place in? Because I was honestly offended that no one, and I mean NO ONE made a Buzz Lightyear joke re: Carol’s outfit and being a member of STARCOMMANDFORCE who checks her wrist communicator to try and make contact.

(Toy Story came out in November so if this takes place in the summer I GUESS I will let it slide.)

But otherwise dug all of the 90s references.

The little Gameboy sound when she calls Yon-Rogg!

(Also, train chase was great but I’m trying to save time though I do feel inclined to mention Kelly Sue DeConnick! Bringing some quality side eye! Very nice.)

Young Fury + Carol = excellent buddy cop combo, 14/10 would take an entire spinoff of their wacky 90s road trip adventures.

‘You look like someone’s disaffected niece’ might be favorite line in the film.

Let’s pause for a moment and appreciate the score, shall we? Pinar Toprak CRUSHES IT; the Captain Marvel theme feels like something out of The Rocketeer but with about 400% more sci-fi synth and I LOVE IT.

**Love the piece of score played when Carol wakes up. (Appropriately titled “Waking Up” I think, on the soundtrack.)

I also like the songs they picked for the movie? This is probably the complaint I’ve seen most often, that they feel obvious and easy, but. I dunno. I was never expecting something like Guardians of the Galaxy? So I wasn’t mad about it. 

(In related news, I’ve been listening to “Connection” on repeat ever since the special look trailer dropped.) 

Anyways.

GOOSE.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSE.

MY GOOD FLERKEN GIRL.

(So, yes, breezing past the bar interrogation--though I do like the ghostly images of Carol’s past that crop up--as well as the trip to Pegasus, again in the interest of time.)

(WAIT. NO. THE TAPE JOKE.)

(Okay for real. Moving on.)

So then. THEN.

The Rambeaus. And the feelings.

Unpopular(?) opinion: I love that this big budget action movie focuses on female friendships and platonic relationships instead of romance THERE I SAID IT

ALSO LIEUTENANT TROUBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I spelled Lieutenant right on the first try. Just sayin’.

But in all seriousness, I love the time we spend in Louisiana. We get a lot of good stuff. Carol getting answers from Maria, Talos arriving with his soda (milkshake?) The standoff with Goose.

(Oh, and how could I forget Maria bidding farewell to the neighbor, shutting the front door as Carol continues to glower???)

‘What’s happening?’ ‘It’s loading.’ XD

Favorite Visual #2 (Chronologically, but actually the one I like best in the movie) The Pysche-Magnitron Light Speed Engine explosion.

(Thank you, Marvel, for changing it to ‘light speed engine,’ which is much easier to spell than Psyche-Magnitron)

But yeah, that was the visual that sold me, in the earliest trailer. I wish I had some profound reason for that, but the truth is I just love blue-glow-y stuff.

BUT ALSO

(And, okay, an additional spoiler- warning because this is a big one. Like. Big.)

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

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

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

Seriously, go away if you haven’t seen the movie yet.

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

MAR-VELL iS A WOMAN

LIKE THIS WHOLE TIME. EVERYONE WAS SO FOCUSED ON JUDE LAW. And then there was that blip, right before the release, when Annette Bening revealed she was the Great Intelligence, again after months of secrecy so we were all like, HA we know the TWIST.

BUT NO. NO WE DID NOT.

Well played, Marvel. Well played.

This was something I was thinking about before the film came out; I just kind of assumed, because of the lack of an apparent ‘Mar-Vell,’ that Carol would be the first and only Captain Marvel in the MCU. And she basically is, b/c we have no indication that Dr. Larson was moonlighting as a superhero, but regardless this is SO COOL. SUCH A GOOD TWIST.

(A quick Google search on how many ‘L’s are in Mar-Vell led to a serendipitous discovery: an article on the gender swap decision, and apparently it came very late in the game. Like. ‘Already looking at guys to play Mar-Vell’ late in the game. *insert themoreyouknow.gif here*) 

Right, okay, back to Feelings:

When Carol’s like: You don’t know who I am! I don’t know who I am!

I was. Emotional.

(Brie Larson is perfectly cast and does a wonderful job.)

Maria’s pep talk? Also caused emotions.

And Maria got to come on the mission! I was pleasantly surprised, and really glad that the visit there wasn’t like. Just a pit stop, you know?

RIP Science Guy, we hardly knew ye.

Again, jumping ahead, but may I just say: It was truly an Experience, watching this movie with folks who had no idea what a ‘Flerken’ was.

Both my friends at the first screening I attended, and then like. Half the theater at the second one. XD

The whole row was like: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT when the tentacles came out.  

So yeah, Talos and the 180 on the REAL villains: Nice. The enduring complaint leveled at the MCU is a lack of compelling villains. (I guess Talos technically doesn’t count as a villain by the end of this, but. We’re going with it.) And Carol’s commitment to helping the Skrull refugees lifts plot elements from my favorite portion of the DeConnick run, so. YEP. LOVED IT.

(I was also trying to determine if Talos’ daughter was perhaps meant to be like. a Tic expy. Did it say ‘Tic’ on the pinball machine? Or ‘Tig’? Or something else entirely?)

Loved the...mind prison? sequence. All of it. “Come as You Are,” the Great Intelligence rockin’ out in the jacket, Carol’s Big Damn Hero moment. Brilliant. Spectacular. Amazing.

“My name is Carol.” 

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSS

(Or does she say her full name? I can’t remember.)

And then the subsequent fight scene where Carol’s like. Simultaneously kicking butt but also enjoying all this newfound power/strength? A+++++

Favorite Visual #3: Carol sitting on the railing with the lunchbox.

Sad to see Minn-Erva go, but. Was so cool that Maria gets her own hero moment.

And then this big ol’ fight scene where Carol DESTROYS SPACESHIPS WITH HER BARE HANDS. 

Favorite Visual #4: Carol going Binary in the red, blue, and yellow suit with the helmet FLYING THROUGH SPACE, LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT.

All of the visuals from this portion are so on point it’s like they’re pulled straight from the comics.

Favorite Visual #5: When Carol’s staring down Ronan and she like. Does that thing, where you hit your palm with your fist? (IDK the technical term there) And there’s this awesome energy burst and AGAIN, BLUE GLOW-Y THINGS. I love.

I’m pretty sure there’s an interview where Brie Larson talked about watching Indiana Jones? And wanting to be the female equivalent of that.

WELL, that’s the movie I immediately thought of when Carol blasted Yon-Rogg into a boulder, mid-goading.

(Y’know, like the scene in Raiders where Harrison Ford was too sick/tired to do the fight choreography, so he just. Shot the bad guy.)

ALSO, when she drags his sorry butt across the desert? I was IMMEDIATELY reminded of Kara dragging Astra into the DEO.

DANVERS GIIIIRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLS

*ahem*

THE FAMILY DINNER AT THE END?????

LITERAL FOUND FAMILY OF ALIENS AND SOLDIERS AND SUPERHEROES JUST. HAVING DINNER. PLAYING UNO. WASHING DISHES AND SINGING "PLEASE MR. POSTMAN”?

Thank you, Marvel, for this beautiful gen fic material.

 WHOOPS I forgot the costume colors bit. (Admittedly confused it with the ending wherein Monica gives Carol her jacket back. Sans ketchup stain.)

So backtracking ever-so-slightly...

Let’s see if I remember this right: We get

Red and gold (Binary send-up, possibly? Or maybe the original Ms. Marvel costume?)

IDK what to call it....Lite-Brite? (♪ makin’ thi-ings with lii-iii-ight ♫) 

Black and Gold (bathing suit costume?)

White and Green (original Mar-Vel/Kree colors) 

That last one’s the only one that’s like. Obvious and deliberate. I’m just guessing with the others.

BUT CLEARLY I am ABSOLUTELY ONTO SOMETHING with the Lite-Brite.

BACK TO THE ENDING Lt. Trouble gives Carol her jacket and that’s my fav look, out of all the costume variations we see in the movie. I mean. I love the black and green, admittedly, and the helmet looks SO GOOD for being something that should be ridiculous, but my go-to answer for superhero costume design is: add a leather jacket.

Favorite Visual #6: Carol in the suit and flight jacket, floating above Earth, ready to go save the day.

AND THEN SHE’S OFF.

Ooooh, ooooooooh, but we can’t forget the scene. The scene that I’m certain ticked off The Continuity Police. (You know the types.)

See, remember when Marvel was like, ‘Carol’s the first Avenger!’ and haters were like, ‘UH HELLO IT’S STEVE????!????’ 

And then Marvel was like, oh ho ho ho, we meant LITERALLY the ENTIRE INITIATIVE IS NAMED AFTER HER CALL SIGN AND SHIELD STARTS LOOKING FOR SUPERHEROES BECAUSE OF HER ERGO SHE IS THE FIRST die mad about it.

That was so very, very satisfying to see.

(Also I guess she’s a literal Captain in the air force? If the rank on the jet is legit. Pretty sure she’s a Major in the comics, though. But I assume this change is to help sell the ‘Captain Marvel’ name.)

And then, friends. And then.

I was fully prepared to leave the theater, uncertain of when we’d next see Carol.

EVEN AS THE MID CREDITS SCENE PLAYED. I was like. ‘Well, they’re gonna cut it off before we can see anythINOHMaNTHERESHEIS!!!!!!’

‘Where’s Fury.’

*insert aesthetically pleasing keyboard smash here*

BRING ON ENDGAME.

And before we wrap up here, one final note:

The Space Stone, sought after by Trickster Gods and Mad Titans alike, was for a brief time, nothing more than a glorified furball.

FIN

(Nope, wait. One little anecdote before we go: of my core group of buddies, I am the Comics Nerd, and thus I am often consulted after we’ve watched a Marvel movie. So I had to explain that YES, Kara Danvers had the last name Danvers first, but she was adopted, and her GIVEN fake name was Linda Lee, so in all fairness, the same-name thing is a little less plagiarize-y, b/c ‘Linda Lee Danvers’ does not necessarily match up as well as ‘Kara Danvers’--which wasn’t even used until really recently--to ‘Carol Danvers’. ...Honestly, I was just really happy they called out the connection MY WORK HAS NOT BEEN IN VAIN XD )

Also, I sometimes get replies on posts like this which is totally fine BUT, I would ask that folks keep really spoiler-y stuff out of ‘em. At least for a little while.

[ticklish-leafy-plant]

Bad Daddy part 2

Part 2 reposting. Not my gif, belongs to @bbylangdon

Warnings: Foul language, sexual situations

You sighed staring at the empty space next to you. Michael had never come to bed last night. Biting your lower lip in frustration, you couldn’t believe that he actually had the nerve to leave for the outpost last night and not even try to say goodbye. That never happened. No matter what, you two always said goodbye with multiple hugs, and yearnful kisses until he returned. But not this time. Had you really fucked up so badly, angered him enough to the point where he would choose to avoid seeing you and leave?

Heaving a great sigh, you rolled over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. You would have to get up eventually, and see to the baby. She would brighten your spirits. At this point, you could only hope that he at least said goodbye to Y/D/N before making his journey into that hellscape.

Maneuvering yourself out of the bed, you began to march to your daughter’s bedroom. Making your way to the door, you halted suddenly as your hand reached for the doorknob. It was utterly silent. That was unusual. Usually Y/D/N would hear your footsteps in the hallway and begin screaming in delight to be let out of her room, and start her day. Maybe she was more exhausted then you thought, and had decided to sleep in that morning. Better to just check in and make sure.

Quietly, you cracked the door open peering your head through. Eyes widening, you immediately slammed the door into the wall and ran over to the crib, eyes immediately tearing up. Y/D/N was not in her bed. You could feel yourself start to hyperventilate, as your head began turning left and right, questioning if maybe she had escaped and was hiding in some corner of the room. Falling to your knees, you looked beneath the crib, opened her closet but she was nowhere to be found.

Immediately, you began to rush down the hallway, an awful thought taking over in your head. What if Michael had taken her while she was asleep? No matter how awful the argument could be, he would never willingly do something so cruel. He was so protective of Y/D/N, he would never let her out of the sanctuary. He rarely let her even be outside of their home, just to keep her hidden from the curious gazes of the members within the cooperative. Michael kept his little family safe, and extremely close to the hip.

As you continued to rush down the hallway, peering into different rooms, you heard movement taking place into the kitchen. Fuck! They had appliances, extra pointy knives and god knows what else she would be able to get into. You skidded to a stop at the kitchen entrance, ready to witness some horror but to your surprise it was something entirely unexpected. Michael was in the kitchen preparing breakfast with Y/D/N. He had sat her on the countertop in front of him, Y/D/N babbling baby words to him as he was mixing the sweet egg batter for French toast. Y/D/N handed him the cinnamon he had left in front of her, Michael carefully measuring out the amount of cinnamon he wanted. “Thank you little love”, Michael grinned towards Y/D/N.

“Good Morning, Mommy”, he greeted not looking up, too focused on his work and concerned of overdoing it with the spices.

You said nothing, chest rising and falling rapidly realizing that Y/D/N hadn’t gone missing. That Michael in his anger towards you, hadn’t taken her to fuck with you. You were ashamed of yourself. Michael might be the Anti-Christ, the antithesis of evil but he was still your love; your rock, and you knew he treasured the both of you above anything else.

You finally cleared your throat, the terrible black fog clouding your mind forgotten as you finally became aware of your surroundings and the situation at hand. Daddy was home. Daddy was surprisingly awake before you. He hadn’t left, and he was making breakfast with Y/D/N. Not only that, but he apparently had foregone wearing a shirt while cooking. You couldn’t help but bite the corner of your lip admiring the view in front of you. You knew Michael was always meant to be as aesthetically pleasing as possible. His beauty, so dangerous and alluring, beckoning you and welcoming you closer, even when you could see the fangs baring themselves. Beautiful strong arms, lean and toned. Skin so perfectly smooth. Broad shoulders filled with a quiet strength, and a warm chest, so perfectly created to cradle your face closely.

Michael said nothing else, adding the cinnamon and handing it back to Y/D/N chubby hands. “You are doing marvelously little chef! That was the most important ingredient we needed to make this delicious!”. Y/D/N glowed under her father’s praise, her small hands clapping together enthusiastically. Michael circled his way around the island in the center of the kitchen, making his way towards the fridge.

You felt your breath stop. Oh no…..

Michael opened the fridge, back towards you. Not only was he going shirtless for breakfast, but on top of that he had decided that he felt like wearing his extremely tight, very flattering leather pants. You sucked on your teeth. He knew how much you loved those pants on him. You often pawed at him, like a bitch in heat when he would wear them. They were the closes thing to lingerie for you. He wore them, and you were ready to do him dirty.

Like a lightbulb going off in your head, you smirked as crossed your arms across your chest and leaned against the island. You knew exactly what he was doing. Daddy didn’t get to play, so he was going to make Mommy want to play with him.

“I know what you’re doing Daddy”, you commented knowingly, as Michael pulled out a jug of orange juice and placing it next to Y/D/N.

“Would Mommy like orange juice, or coffee?” Michael asked, ignoring your comment and finally looking up at you. You stared back at Michael silently, eyes making contact but no other words being spoken.  You could see the playfulness in his ocean blue eyes, almost daring you to do something about it.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about Mommy…”, as you and Michael continued to hold eye contact, the look in his eyes daring you to contradict him. You licked your dry lips, subtly clenching your thighs, already feeling an ache. Michael continued to leer at you, a soft smug smile gracing his lips. Fine, he wanted to play that way. So be it. You would play.

You cleared your throat, giving a small exhale not willing yourself to look away from him. “Where did you sleep last night?”, watching as Michael turned away and returned to the bowl of egg mix, Y/D/N playing with a lone spoon, as Michael began to calmly whisk the ingredients. Michael looked up giving you a thoughtful look. “The living room. Can’t remember the last time I slept on a couch, Mommy”, he murmured softly.

Ouch. You pensively chose to look down at the granite counter, your hands clenching harder and nails digging into your palms. There wasn’t a time that you and Michael had ever slept separately from each other, unless he was away on a trip. Guilt trip was not going to help him win this one.

“I mean…I mean you could have come to bed. You didn’t have to sleep on the couch last night”, you whispered.

“Could I have?”, he whispered harshly, slamming the whisk on the counter startling Y/D/N for a second before she went back to taping the metal spoon against the granite, entertaining herself.

You felt yourself flinch, already exasperated by the tense atmosphere taking place in the kitchen. You looked up, staring him in the eye before blatantly rolling your eyes at his bratty behavior.

“You have no one to blame but yourself Daddy”, giving Michael a tight smirk. Michael’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing, his breathing deepening. You knew you were playing with fire at that moment. You were well and truly fucked now. Were they really going to argue before they ate?

Instead of shouting, Michael began to gently shake his head and chuckle. “You are truly maddening sweetheart…”, as he stepped around the counter, walking past you and towards the phone on the counter. You turned your head, unable to stop yourself from watching him walk away. The way those black leather pants clung to his ass like a second skin was sinful to say the least. You could admit to yourself, quite easily actually that Michael had an amazing ass. At times when you would watch him change, or shower, you wondered what it would be like to have an ass like his. One night, when you both were dating back before the world was led to ruin, you were staying the night at Mead’s home having some alone time with Michael. You had mentioned to him how he had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of.

Michael had blushed so hard, and was so flattered but alarmed as to what to do with that information. You had somehow managed to convince him to let you try to bounce a quarter off of it. Needless to say, it was a few hours of indescribable silliness for the both of, and one of the fondest memories you had helping you fall even more in love with him.

You were broken out of memory lane, realizing Michael had just gotten off the phone with someone. Before you were even able to ask who he had called, Ms. Mead walked through the kitchen entrance, ignoring you and Michael and walking straight towards Y/D/N.

Y/D/N extended her arms in delight at seeing Mead, the words Nana breaking through her little lips, as Miriam simply lifted her into her arms and cuddled her closely. “I’ll see you two later. Enjoy your morning”, turning back and exiting the kitchen entrance as quickly as she entered.

You stood there, lips parted in disbelief as you turned to look at Michael to understand what was going on. Before any words could move past your lips, Michael crossed the kitchen in a few strides halting right in front of you, trapping you against the counter. His whole body was tightly wound, his chest puffed out making you feel smaller, trapped and aroused.

“Bedroom. Now”.

[theasgardianbuckylaufeyson]

Marvel Preferences~ Your First Meeting

Tony Stark: This was the first business meeting Toni has been to in a while but it was the only one that he actually gives a shit about. This deal was to merge his company with a well known home technology corporation. All he could focus in as her walked into the board room was how much safer this would make everyone and how much easier it would make his job protecting said people. Only those thoughts are wiped completely from his mind when he seen you sitting in the chair opposite his. You on the other hand seemed rather unimpressed by the arrival of your soon to be business partner. On the outside you held a stone expression having already read up what you needed to know about the billionaire genius, but on the inside you were internally screaming. No amount of informant sheets could prepare you for how handsome the man before you looked.

After clearing his throat he steps forward and offers you his hand, “You must be Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Oh please, call me Y/N. And you must be Mr. Stark,” you replay as you rise from your seat and slip your hand in his expecting him to offer you a handshake.

Instead he turns your hand up right and places a kiss on the top before responding, “Please, call me Tony Mr. Stark was my father.”

Steve Rogers: It was nice for as early as it was in New York that morning but no one was going to complain, especially not you. Deciding to take advantage of the weather as much as you could even though you had to work that day you leashed up your dog and walked towards the park near your house. It was typically pretty quiet so you knew it would be the perfect spot. Steve had the same idea when his alarm woke him up and he soon discovered the weather. Quickly slipping on his running clothes and shoes he heads outside and to the one place he thinks is truly peaceful. He knew not many people came here at this time of day because he always ran there so he wasn’t paying attention to your dog running straight towards him in route for the stick that had landed a few feet away. Y/D/N crashed right into his legs causing him to topple to the ground with a huff.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about that. I wasn’t paying attention when I threw the stick, I figured people normally weren’t here this early in the morning,” you exclaim while helping him stand back on his feet.

“It’s not a problem ma’am, I’m sure this little guy didn’t mean it anyway,” Steve replies petting your dogs head as he does so.

Bucky Barnes: The one time Steve convinced Bucky to visit the Captain America exhibit in the Smithsonian you were there intently studying the section dedicated to Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. The two men watched you from afar at first, studying your every movement but attempting not to seem like creeps at the same time. After a few minutes more of staring Bucky couldn’t take it anymore and gave into his curiosity before he could stop himself. Walking right up to you he tried to muster up as much of his old courage and charm that he could before asking, “What ya doing there doll?”

Startled you slam your notebook to your chest and nervously shift your eyes anywhere but to the man beside you, “Im uh. I’m taking down some notes for a report I’m writing for my blog.”

“And what could there be to report on a dead guy?” the man questions with a snort.”

“A lot more than you think,” you retort before mumbling under your breath, “Especially when he's not dead you idiot.”

The comment was so quiet a normal person wouldn’t have heard it, but Bucky did and he stiffened instantly. If you knew he was alive that meant you knew he was the winter soldier. It also meant that you could possibly recognized him if you looked at him. After a moment of silence he decided he didn’t want to take the chance and bolted to where Steve stood in front of the video of Peggy. As he dragged a confused and dazed Steve out of the building he left an equally confused you behind.

Thor Odinson: You were friends with Pepper as well as both the female Avengers so naturally you were invited to all of Toni’s parties. And every time you said yes, no matter if you wanted to go or not because there was nothing like a Stark party. Tonight was one of those nights. You were wrapped in you Y/F/C dress all dolled up and leaning against the side of the bar, but you wished at that very moment you were anywhere else. While you were drowning in your own thoughts and wine coolers you didn’t notice the god admiring your from where he stood with Steve across the room. After another cup of Asgardian alcohol and some more encouragement from Steve, Thor finally makes his way over to where you are perched.

Offering you a warm smile he begins to speak, “Hello my lady, I am Thor the God of Thunder.”

“Hello Thor, I am Y/N,” you reply with a giggle as you take in the features of the god before you.

Clint Barton: Today was the first day of Avengers training. Before this you were just a typical assassin until SHIELD realized you were more than human. Your parents were fallen agents of HYDRA and injected you with the super soldier serum at a young age hoping it would turn you into one of their greatest assets. Instead their plans backfired and they created their greatest enemy. When you were old enough to leave you did and from that day on you were always with SHIELD. That was how you ended up in the Avengers training room now with both Black Widow and Captain America flanking you on either side ready for you to show them what you got. First Natasha approached you, but you’ve been doing this so much that you predicted her moves before she even took her first step and easily had her on the mat. Steve took a bot more force to take down, but using the momentum you had from Natasha you took him down just as fast leaving face to face with a man in the doorway of the room.

He began to clap slowly as he approached you, “I was coming to see if Nat wanted to train, but it looks like she has her hands full..I’m Clint.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Sam Wilson: You worked as a volunteer for numerous support groups and other veteran situations so when you got a call from a friend today asking you to fill in for her you didn’t really think twice about saying yes. Instead you got dressed and raced over to the building the session was being held in as fast as you could to help whoever she was supposed to work with that day. When you arrived you were greeted by a man’s back as he set up pamphlets by the door, oblivious to your arrival as it appeared.

Stepping forward you clear your throat and speak up, “Uh hi, Y/F/N couldn’t make it today so she asked me to fill in for her. I’m sorry I’m late, but this one last minute so I tried to get over as fast as I could.”

It is then that the man turns around with a smile present on his face, “That’s not a problem, I would've done the session alone if i had to.”

With a nod of understanding you offer him your hand, “Im Y/N Y/L/N.” “Sam Wilson,” he replies shaking your hand

Loki Laufeyson: You had been trapped in the dungeons of Asgard fora crime you didn’t do for longer than you could remember. There was word spread that your were a dark elf working for to turn on Odin and overthrown the throne. The only reason they didn’t execute you was because not all of their story checked out, Instead they locked you away until they knew they truth, the only issue was they weren’t trying to find any other leads leaving you down here to rot. Until one night when you’re nearly asleep on your cot you hear someone being thrown into the cell beside yours. Sitting up in shock you look over to see the one and only Prince of Asgard, Loki, being tossed into the cell angry and screaming. Though the guards didn’t acknowledge his tantrum you were staring intently at the man since he had grown into a handsome prince since you last saw him. When he realized you were staring though he instantly put an illusion up causing you to return to your attempted sleep.

Peter Parker: Today you started at one of the est school’s New York could offer and to say you were nervous would be an understatement. Even though you excelled at you old school, everyone who went here excelled at something or everything. As you walked the halls trying to find your first class you weren’t paying attention to what was in front of you and plowed right into a girl walking down the halls in the opposite direction.

“I am so sorry. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going instead of the school map,” you say quickly while trying to pick up your things.

“It’s cool. You must be the new girl, I’m Mj,” the girl replies brushing herself off.

“Yeah that’s me,” you sigh before studying your map again.

“What class do you have?”

“Uh, english.”

“Oh, that’s on the way to my class. I could show you if you want,” Mj offers kindly motioning to the way she was previously going.

“Really that’d be great, thanks,” you reply rushing to follow her.

When you reached the classroom you said goodbye and parted ways with her. You had seen Mj a few more times throughout the day so when lunch rolled around you were relieved to see her face once again. As you scanned the lunchroom for an open seat she called your name, drawing the attention of the other students in the cafeteria as well. Quickly you made your way to the open seat beside her and sat down smiling at all the other kids already seated at the table.

“Hi, Im Y/N,” you say introducing yourself with a smile.

“Im Ned and this is Peter,” one of the two boys across from you answers while the other just sits there dumbfounded.