#and that he actually talks to the people who want to help him now

[zahura]

"You don't have a contingency plan for me?" You frowned.

Jason looked up at you in surprise as everyone else fell into shocked silence.

You took a deep breath in through your nose. Slowly and measuredly, you asked "You don't have. A contingency plan. For me?”

"You're not part of the action, darling." Jason faltered.

"I am the lady of your life. You have a contingency plan for everyone else. But not me."

Roy side-eyed you like he was trying to untangle your brain through force of will, but you ignored him. He didn't understand, he was pissant only a minute ago about his best friend "betraying" him with a contingency plan. He got a contingency plan. Everyone here, all these people close to Jason got contingency plans, but not you.

"Habibti…" Jason sighed.

"Yes?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Habibti? I could disable you in a fight, even at your strongest. So God forbid you were brainwashed, I could easily incapacitate you. I’d just find you, and tie you up or something."

The other eyebrow shot up this time to a cacophony of snorts by your audience as your cheeks flushed.

"But like! In a nice way!” Jason struggled.

"In a nice way?" You slowly asked. Roy was grinning ear-to-ear, now.

"Yes? I would... use the rope to… make bow ties." Jason was trying. Not succeeding but he was obviously trying.

Jason caught Roy's grin and frowned. Not. Helping.

"You know, unlike Roy, who I’d have hogtied in the back of a truck. You'd be sitting pretty in the front. My passenger princess."

At this point, everyone else’s anger had dissipated and they were all amusedly watching Jason try to talk his way out of this one. Jason noticed.

"I'd drop Roy on the floor somewhere and tuck you under some nice fluffy sheets. I'd even give you hot chocolate."

Nice try. "I'm lactose intolerant."

Muffled squaks and guffaws bounced off the walls, and Jason shot Roy a glare that might kill him, but you weren't letting Jason off that easily. Not after he failed to come up with a single contingency plan for you. Trained or not, actual strength was irrelevant here. Did he not worry about you?

"Fine! Lactose-free, then, but the point is, I would take care of you if you were sick."

Your gaze softened. Jason continued, "I would stop at nothing to make you better. And happy."

Finally, you smiled.

Softly, he continued, "So… how about this for a contingency plan: I would find some cure, give it to you, take the ropes off of you... if you wanted-”

Roy snorted and you both turned and shot him a look.

"You wouldn’t un-hogtie Harper off your apartment floor too soon, would you?"

"Not at this rate."

The joke that the bats see their contingency plans as a form of love is super fucking funny, don't get me wrong but honestly they probably do see it as that cause they just forget to say the second part out loud.

"after I've taken you down, obviously I'd find whatever made you like this and then find the cure."

They come from gotham where mind altering substances are basically everywhere. One of the most profound ways a gothamite could say 'i care about you' is admitting to having a plan to disarm/capture you in the case you go off the deep end, so that they could then get you a cure.

Unfortunately for the bats, no one else thinks like that cause what the actual fucks guys

[immoral-stranger]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 // 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑. 💋 “I can get a little drunk, I get into all the don’ts but on good days I am charming as fuck.” – Tove Lo, Moments.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem! reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None except alcohol and drunkenness.

A/N: Sike, you're getting the first letter tonight. It's cute as fuck. Dedicated to all my girlies (gn) who get Tove Lo drunk when aiming for Pitbull drunk.

Charles wasn’t sure why he had agreed to go out tonight. Monaco’s nightlife, as dazzling as it was, had become an overplayed record to him. Especially during the summer with all the tourists. He remembered being freshly turned 18 and discovering it (legally) for the first time. It had been magical. Now it was a done deal, a well-rehearsed story, knowing how it would go from beginning to end. Maybe that was why he actually preferred spending time on his yachts or on some small remote resort on some small remote island during his summer break from the racing calendar. 

Alas, here he was, tipsy from an overly sweet cocktail in a VIP booth at Jimmy’z. His friends were having fun, as were his friends’ friends and whoever else could get close enough to leech on, knowing that Charles was definitely the one paying the tab. It seemed to be the primary talent of those people, sticking close enough to the rich and the famous to get something for free out of it. 

Charles found it braindead. 

He sighed, swaying half-heartedly to the DJ’s relentless house music. Was he even a fan of house music? He didn’t think so. Between the thumping bass, the flashing strobe lights, and the endless game of shouting over the noise just to make small talk, Charles felt tired.

Maybe he was getting old. But he hadn’t even hit thirty yet. Could you have a quarter-life crisis at 27?

It got to the point where he started counting down the minutes until it would be socially acceptable to excuse himself for a “bathroom break.” The moment came, and Charles seized it, weaving his way through the dance floor. He lingered in the queue for the toilets longer than necessary, opting for a stall over a urinal so he could sit in peace. He didn’t even need to pee. He just wanted to be alone. His head was spinning slightly from the alcohol. Not drunk, not even close, but his famously rigorous fitness regimen had turned him into something of a lightweight. Not that he’d admit it.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, he navigated the narrow corridor leading back to the main area of the club. That was when he felt it—a tug on his arm, insistent and clumsy. Before he could fully process what was happening, he was yanked backward and down onto a bench. Or a sofa. One of those little black pleather-clad, trashy club furnishings. 

For a fleeting moment, he considered all the reasons he hated being famous. Whatever was about to happen—selfies, autograph requests, or an inebriated declaration of undying love for Ferrari—he was sure it would test the limits of his patience.

“Hi!” a voice chirped. “Are you busy? No?”

He blinked. Sitting beside him was a girl—young and lively, a light shining in your eyes as you spoke excitedly. Or maybe just drunkenly. You had that half-glazed look of someone balancing precariously between charming and completely hammered. You spoke English. A tourist most likely. Dressed up nicely. Not like you had another choice. It was Monaco. 

As Charles was too shocked to answer, you continued talking in a heartbeat. 

“Great! Not busy.” You clasped your hands together as though you’d just agreed to the most wonderful thing in the world. “You…” you announced grandly, pointing at him, “are going to help… me.”

“I am?” Charles asked, caught between amusement and disbelief.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, as though this were obvious. You leaned heavily on Charles’ shoulder for support, your words tumbling out in a rush. “Okay, so. Here’s the situation: I lost my bag. Then I lost Emma while looking for my bag. And now—” you gestured dramatically, nearly toppling over even when sitting up—“I am stuck here. No bag, no Emma, and way, waaay too much tequila in my system.”

Charles stifled a laugh. “And you think I can help?”

“Of course!” You nodded vigorously. “If you find my bag and Emma, then this—” you gestured vaguely at yourself,—“this will no longer be a problem.”

“If I find your bag?” he found himself repeating. 

“Mhm, then you can come here to me again,” you slurred your speech a little, nodding again like your head was constantly stuck doing it. “With Emma and the bag and no problems.” 

“You can’t do it yourself?” 

“Exactly!” You pointed at him, impressed, narrowly avoiding touching his dimpled cheek with your long nail. “See, you get it. You’re a lifesaver.”

You seemed to have no idea who he was, and you were definitely drunker than you had first led on. He saw it in the way your body slumped and in your bloodshot eyes. Your hair was messy, your makeup smudged, and your dress a little wrinkled. And you were undeniably funny, totally capturing and taking over the conversation without letting Charles speak. 

He helped you to lean against the sofa, getting himself out from being your human crutch. Still, he couldn’t find a way out of being your lifesaver. 

“All right,” Charles sighed. “What does your bag look like?”

“It’s black, sparkly, and small. Like… impossibly small. A wallet with delusions. But I bought it in Paris—”

“Okay, I got it.” Charles suppressed a smile. “And Emma?”

“Tall. Blonde. Looks like she’s judging everyone but will absolutely cry over a military homecoming.”

“Right. Tall, blonde, and emotionally complex. Got it,” he repeated. “Are you sure I can leave you on your own?” 

Charles stood from the sofa, glancing at you as you leaned your head back against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed.

“I’m fiiiiine. I just need the room to stop spinning.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Enthralled by your giggle and the way you looked sort of fairy-esque with glittery eyeshadow in patches around your eyes. There was something magnetic about you, even in your dishevelled state. He couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t also slightly concerning—a young woman alone in a drunken state. You were a happy kind of drunk right now, but he had a feeling that might change quickly. 

With a final look at you, he set off into the chaos of the club. Back underneath the strobe lights and the pulsating music. Back between the warm and drunk bodies of others. Somewhere, a girl in a sparkly dress was yelling about her ex to anyone who’d listen, and he thought for a fleeting moment how easily you might have been her—except you weren’t yelling. You’d asked for his help.

He heard his friends yell after him from their place in the VIP area, probably wondering why he’d been gone for so long. But Charles was on a mission—to find a minuscule bag and a blonde woman in a crowd of not that many bags and way too many blonde women. 

The bag was easier to spot than he expected. Its sparkles caught the light as it lay abandoned, right by his feet on the dance floor. That seemed too good to be true. He picked it up, the thing so small it felt absurd in his hands. What could you even fit in here? A debit card? A single lipstick?

Charles didn’t mean to pry, but he opened it to make sure it actually was yours, and much to his surprise, he found a debit card, some spare euros, some sort of makeup product, a tampon, and a driver’s license. Fuck, you were the kind of person who looked gorgeous in official portraits. And he knew your name now. Maybe he should’ve asked for that before he decided to agree on being your knight in shining armour. 

Emma, however, was more elusive. Verging on needle in a haystack territory. He scanned the floor and the booths, getting nowhere. Looking for a girl as equally lost as you were turned out to be harder than he thought. Everyone fit so well into the orchestrated act of nightclub hierarchy that no one looked out of place. 

Admitting defeat, Charles turned to walk back to the corridor outside the toilets, hoping to find you exactly where he left you. Before he could even round the corner, he heard your voice cut through the noise. 

“I know, Emma. I know that I do this all the time and that it scares you to death.” 

Your tone was half-pleading, half-explanatory, like you were trying to win a debate and console her at the same time. The sound of it made him stop in his tracks, curiosity anchoring him to the spot.

As he edged closer, you came into view, seated exactly where he’d left you. Beside you stood Emma, arms folded tightly across her chest in a way that broadcast equal parts frustration and affection. She was, as Charles had guessed, tall, blonde, and distinctly more polished than you at the moment. Similarly dressed but with an air of sharp control. 

Emma was the kind of person you’d send in to fix a mess—not become part of one. Clearly switched into full mom mode, she had already given you a glass of what Charles prayed was water and had tied your hair into a haphazard ponytail, probably anticipating the worst-case scenario of tequila-induced disaster.

Charles lingered just out of sight, gripping your little sparkly bag as if it were a trophy. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but your voice was unmistakable and loud enough to rival the DJ. 

“I get a little drunk and I get into all the don’ts, but on good days? I am charming as fuck, and you love me for it.” 

Your voice, slurred but insistent, filled the hallway. You reached out toward her, your hands wobbling in the air until she sighed and took them. Emma sighed, her annoyance cracking just enough for Charles to catch the tired laugh she let slip. It was the kind of laugh that said, Yes, I love you, but you’re impossible, and I have considered leaving you in a bush once or twice.

Charles smiled to himself, your declaration replaying in his mind. Charming as fuck, indeed. He wasn’t sure if the grin tugging at his lips was due to the absurdity of the situation or the undeniable truth of your words.

He wasn’t invisible, after all, so when you were done with your exclamation to Emma, your gaze easily landed on Charles, standing somewhat pathetically, waiting just a few metres away. The moment your eyes met his, you lit up like you’d just remembered something incredibly important.

“And look!” you exclaimed, pointing toward him. Drunk you had a thing for pointing. “I had this… hot guy here to help me. He’s found my bag! You, sir, are a lifesaver.”

You’d just managed to call him both “hot” and “sir” in the same breath, and Charles wasn’t sure if it was because you didn’t know his name or if you were trying to drive him completely insane.

Emma’s head whipped toward Charles, her face shifting from surprise to a kind of restrained horror as recognition dawned. Her posture stiffened again, her folded arms tightening. While you hadn’t known who Charles was, Emma definitely did. 

“Y-you roped Charles fucking Leclerc into looking for your bag?!” 

“A what now?” you mumbled, looking between the two of them with confusion written across your face.

Charles stepped closer, handing you the bag like a peace offering. “I am… a Charles Leclerc.” 

“It’s a thing?”

“No, it’s my name.” 

You squinted at him, as though trying to decide if this explanation satisfied you. Then, with a dramatic sigh, you let your head fall back against the wall. “You should have led with that,” you pointed out. “I need to sit down. Oh wait—” You gestured weakly at your own position. “Already doing that.”

“Charles Leclerc,” Emma said, gesturing toward him with an incredulous sweep of her hand. “Formula 1 driver? Like… literally one of the best in the world?”

“Ohhh, right. We’re in Monaco,” you mumbled to yourself. 

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something about you being impossible. Then she straightened, looking at Charles briefly before her gaze shifted to the dance floor. “I’m going to find the others and tell them it’s time to go. Don’t let her wander off again, please.”

Before Charles could respond, she disappeared into the crowd, her blonde head bobbing toward the pulsating lights. He watched her go, unsure if he’d just been handed a babysitting gig or a challenge. When he turned back, you were studying him, your head tilted slightly.

Charles hesitated, then he sat down beside you again, leaning back against the worn pleather as he looked right back at you. Up close, the club lights caught in your hair, making it shimmer like an accidental halo. He wondered if it was the alcohol in his veins or just the moment, but you looked… luminous.

“So, what now? Bag found, friend located. Mission accomplished,” he asked, almost proudly, as he relaxed further into his seat. 

You drunkenly fumbled through the belongings inside your bag, in disbelief over everything being there. “You really did solve all of my problems… Thank you,” you said softly, a hint of genuine gratitude creeping into your voice.

He smiled, his amusement softening into something warmer. “You’re welcome.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze slower now, more deliberate. “It makes sense that you’re famous,” you said finally, as if you’d unravelled some profound mystery. “You’ve got a really pretty face.”

Charles chuckled completely unguarded. “I think that’s the tequila talking.”

“Nope,” you said, grinning with certainty. “That’s all me.”

He couldn’t help but be drawn in by your confidence, your complete lack of pretense. On top of the almost sticky pleather sofa, he could see your hand move tentatively, dancing over the fabric, aimless yet perfectly intentional. He wasn’t thinking when he grabbed it, intertwining his fingers with your own, but it felt right—and something innocent that felt this right couldn’t be wrong. 

“I think you were right,” he said, not scared to look you in the eye. “About you being charming as fuck.”

“Good,” you replied, raising your glass of water in a mock toast. “Because I think I’m keeping you here for a while.”

“Still too drunk to walk?” he teased. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” you declared, each syllable landing like a punchline. 

He laughed loudly, letting the chaos fade into the background, his hand grounded in yours, feeling more intimate than any drunken kiss had ever done.

Charles wasn’t dreading being in the club on a Saturday night for once, not counting the minutes until he could leave without being called boring. Instead, he found himself thinking about where you might go next—and wondering if he could come along. Even if that was a hotel room after-party or a rented apartment in Nice. You were more interesting than anything else Monaco could offer right now, and filer à l’anglaise would leave the leeches to pay for their own enjoyment. 

Thank you for reading, hope this is a good introduction to what the rest of the love letters will be like! Please comment, like, reblog, bombard me with messages, I feed off that stuff 💌

Taglist: @koko-mei @anamiad00msday @floweringanna @lucyysthings @yelenam5 @firefirevampire @alexxavicry @emails-i-can-send

(if i haven't tagged you it's because your age wasn't visible for me to verify on your blog, i keep that as a precaution even if i'm not always posting smut)

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 8 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix

part viii (gift-wrapping)

You don’t know what the last-minute staff meeting is for, but the email looked important, so you show up outside the building’s biggest conference room on the hour, as ordered. As soon as you set foot inside, though, you know this was one you could have skipped. There are piles of gift bags and rolls of wrapping paper on every table, as well as packets of tissue paper and spools of ribbon and actual jars of confetti with scoops in them. On the whiteboard at the front of the room, someone’s written REMEDIAL GIFT-WRAPPING.

You didn’t think your gifts were wrapped that badly. Tomura hasn’t complained. Then again, Tomura doesn’t know you’re the one leaving his gifts, so he wouldn’t know who to complain to if he had a problem. In spite of showing up on time, everybody else somehow got here before you, so you hesitate just inside the doorway, looking for an empty seat. Before you can find one, something moves in your peripheral vision, and you glance over to find Twice beckoning to you. He’s sitting with Spinner, Dabi, and Tomura, and they’ve got an empty seat nearby.

A few weeks ago, you’d have found somewhere else, but you’re much more comfortable with Tomura and his friends than you were before. Seeing them outside of work at Toga’s party probably helped. Seeing them the next morning, waking up with bedhead and low-grade hangovers that could only be cured with diner food, moved them firmly from the category of scary coworkers to people you could call friends. And waking up at one end of Toga’s couch to realize that you’d spent the entire night sharing it and a blanket with Tomura moved him from Secret Santa recipient to something else.

You’re not sure what else, exactly. You’ve been keeping a close eye on him since the Secret Santa thing started, just so you could figure out good times to sneak down to the basement and leave things on his desk, but for the past few days you’ve felt different about seeing him out and about. Instead of being relieved, and using your next free second to race downstairs and plant a gift, you’ve gone to talk to him. Or you’ve stayed put wherever you were and hoped he’d come talk to you. He’s different at work than he is out of it, but now that you’ve seen him the other way, you can’t fail to see that the person who slept on the couch with you is there when he’s here, too.

Work doesn’t bring out the best in him, and work-related holiday festivities are even worse. You can hear him complaining as you make your way over. “I don’t need to learn gift-wrapping. The stuff I leave is fine.”

“No. Spinner’s gifts are fine. Yours look like you’re dropping off a sperm sample,” Dabi says. He’s organizing the pile of gift-wrapping supplies and ignoring the way Tomura swears at him. “It’s not going to kill you.”

“With everybody else here, Toga’s probably not just picking on us,” Spinner says. He spots you coming over and waves. “Hey. You got an invite, too?”

“My gift-wrapping must be worse than I thought,” you say. You drop down into the chair between Twice and Tomura. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Tomura glances quickly at you, then goes back to screwing around with a mostly-empty roll of ribbon. “You have a gift in your mailbox. I saw it when I checked mine.”

You didn’t put a gift in his mailbox today – it’s on his desk again, waiting for him whenever he gets back. You dropped it off after you saw him walk back on the way to the conference room. “I’ll look after we’re done with this. Does this happen every year?”

“No. It’s new.” Tomura scowls. “It sucks.”

“Hi everybody!” Toga’s standing on a chair at the front of the room, waving to catch the room’s attention. “Thanks for stopping by. It’s come to my attention that some of you guys don’t know how to wrap a gift to save your lives, and even though it’s the gift that counts, the way it’s presented matters, too! So for the sake of your Secret Santa recipients, we’re going to go over the basics of gift-wrapping –”

“And we’re going to practice on these,” Midoriya announces, holding up a clear plastic bin that’s full to the brim. “The gifts from the toy drive. Which we need to wrap anyway.”

“I told you we weren’t in trouble,” Spinner says to the group at large.

“No, we��re just free labor.” Tomura’s scowling worse than before. “I can’t wait to count my papercuts afterwards.”

“To help with this,” Toga continues loudly, “every table has at least one person who knows what they’re doing. Compress and Yaoyorozu will go over the basics, and then your group’s expert will help you get going.”

Where’s your table’s expert? You glance around, only to find everyone else looking at you. “We need to work quickly,” Iida announces, even louder than Toga. “It’s imperative that we get these gifts mailed this afternoon. If they’re delayed by the storm, they won’t reach their recipients in time. Do you want to be the reason why needy children go without presents this year?”

“Hey! Iida! That’s kind of harsh,” Midoriya says hastily. Dabi is snickering. “Just do your best, everybody!”

There’s a bin of toys under the table. Compress and Yaoyorozu order everybody to start with something in a box, since they’re easier to work with, but you have a bad feeling you’re the expert, and the things that are weirdly shaped are going to take longer. You take out a plastic dinosaur toy and get to work, listening with half an ear to the instructions. You don’t want to contradict anything they’re saying. It’ll slow things down, and based on the size of the toy bin, you can’t afford that.

You overhear the other supposed experts at the other table, and they seem pretty comfortable giving instructions, but you decide to keep quiet unless somebody asks you something. And somebody does. “Are girls born knowing how to gift-wrap or something?” Spinner asks, staring at the dinosaur toy you’ve successfully mummified in candy-cane wrapping paper. “How did you do that?”

“Practice, I guess?” You don’t really remember somebody teaching you. “It was probably just watching my mom.”

“Maybe you should handle all the weird-shaped shit,” Dabi says. He abandons the box he’s wrapping and starts sorting the toys in the bin. “I want to get out of here sometime this year and that’s not going to happen if you put me in charge of that.”

You nod and pick up the grotesque-looking nutcracker at the top of the pile. To your surprise, everybody else settles down to work quickly – even Tomura, who’s still scowling, and handling the wrapping paper like it might take a bite out of him. The other tables are chattering, but everybody at yours is quiet. Focused. When Midoriya swings by to pick up any wrapped gifts, he has to make two trips to collect all of them from you.

It’s not until you’re starting on the second round of presents that Tomura speaks up. “This isn’t so bad,” he says, and you almost amputate your finger in shock. “I thought it was going to be like that movie.”

“Which –” Dabi interrupts himself, then makes a weird noise. “The one where the guy’s cheating on his wife?”

“And he’s trying to get the clerk to gift-wrap that ugly necklace he bought for his mistress before his wife gets back?” That scene made you cringe. There are lots of scenes in Love Actually that make you cringe, but that one stands out. “Did he actually cheat on his wife or was he just trying to cheat?”

“He’s cheating.” Dabi measures out a huge scoop of glitter and drops it on top of the present he’s wrapping before he tapes the wrapping paper down. “My dad pulls shit exactly like that. Except he was fucking my boyfriend, not his secretary.”

You almost choke on thin air. “He – what?”

“That was ages ago,” Twice says. “They didn’t talk for like – five years. Then Dabi’s sister made them go to family therapy and now Enji makes up for it by giving Dabi money whenever he asks.”

“And when he doesn’t,” Spinner says. Dabi is making a face. “You’re better off, dude.”

“You know how Shigaraki hates Christmas? That’s how Dabi feels about Valentine’s Day,” Twice says. You probably would, too, if your dad had hooked up with your boyfriend. “If you’re still around by then, you can hang out with us. We always celebrate by maxing Enji’s credit card.”

If you’re still around by then. What does that mean? “Sounds fun,” you say, watching as Dabi adds two scoops of glitter to his next present. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“It’s there. We’re supposed to use it,” Dabi says. “The kids will get a kick out of this shit.”

“Yeah, but their parents will hate it.”

Tomura takes a scoop of glitter and pours it in the gift bag he’s been screwing around with. “It’s not about them.”

You remember who the gifts are for all at once. Kids in foster care, whose parents probably suck as a rule. They deserve to have some fun, and you’ve never met a kid who wouldn’t go crazy over a glitter bomb. When you start wrapping your next present, you add some glitter to it, too.

At some point the department heads come looking for all their employees, which is how you find out that Toga didn’t clear the meeting with anybody before she called it. Most of your table takes the opportunity to flee – Dabi first, then Twice, and Spinner after a second’s hesitation. Tomura stops halfway out of his chair when he realizes you’re not getting up. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“My supervisor hasn’t come looking for me yet,” you say. “And there’s still a lot to do.”

You know there’s work waiting for you back at your desk, but it shouldn’t take too long, and Iida’s guilt-trip about the presents definitely got to you. You empty the rest of the toy bin onto the table and grab a box with a model train printed on the front. A chair scrapes next to you as Tomura sits back down, and he lifts the train box out of your hands. “Give me that. I can’t wrap the weird ones.”

You stare at him. You can’t help it. “What are you doing?”

“My supervisor hasn’t come looking for me, either.” Tomura shrugs. “It’ll be faster if I help.”

“You hate this stuff,” you say.

“I’m not going to be the reason needy kids don’t get presents this year.” Tomura’s Iida impersonation is pretty on point, especially when he adds in Iida’s trademark hand gestures. You laugh. “And I haven’t gotten a paper cut yet. Nobody will put up with my bitching next year if I don’t get at least one.”

He says that, and it sounds like him – but somehow you don’t buy it. He’s not making eye contact, and his ears are turning sort of red, and your heart kicks up a weird, fluttery jolt. “If you want to hang out, you can just say that,” you say. “You don’t have to do – I know you hate doing this.”

“This is what you’re doing,” Tomura interrupts you. “That’s the important part.”

That one’s hard for you to parse, so hard that Tomura manages to wrap the train and start on the next gift before you can get even sort of a handle on it. And once you do, you’re not sure you want one. Tomura hates Christmas. Every Christmas thing you’ve seen him do has been done under pressure or threat, and he just got a golden opportunity to escape. Why would he give it up to hang out with you?

There’s one answer. An obvious answer. One you’d believe if it was coming from anybody but him. “I can use the help,” you admit. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Yeah.” Tomura reaches for the wrapping paper at the same time as you do, and your hands collide. You thought he’d flinch. You thought you’d flinch. But your hands stay still, poised against one another, for a long moment before Tomura draws away, his fingertips skimming the back of your hand as he goes. “Any time.”

<- part vii part ix ->

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

chapter tags: discussions of a burn victim (nothing graphic), discussions of suicide and mental health, very brief mentions of things that happened in past chapters (Tommy's mom, military, red handkerchief, implied noncon), anxiety, depression, background character death, Tommy calls the crisis hotline

read below or on ao3

Day 10: 2022

“I'm calling Roberts in early, you can go home.”

“Captain Marks-”

“No, Kinard! What you did out there was careless. You could've gotten yourself killed.”

“And if I'd done nothing, that man would be dead.”

“He's gonna wish he were dead if he ever wakes up! He's got third degree burns on over seventy percent of his body! I don't mean to be harsh, Tommy, but you risked your life for a dead man walking!”

“So?” 

Marks took a deep breath, sitting back in his chair. “I'm gonna pretend I didn't just hear you say that. I know emotions are high right now, but you know as well as I do I can't have a pilot that isn't concerned about whether they live or die.”

“That's not-”

“Stop talking, Kinard,” Marks warned. “You're on the ground for five shifts, I'll reevaluate things myself after that. If I have any hesitation, for even a moment, about your intentions here, you're getting a psych eval. That'll put you on the ground forever. You understand me?”

Tommy pursed his lips, nodding his head. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, go home, enjoy the rest of your Christmas, come back next shift with a clear head.”

*****

By the time Tommy got home, it was nearing ten o'clock at night. His brain was a jumbled mess. It didn't seem to matter how many times he hit the punching bag in his garage, it was never enough.

After a quick shower, he thought about laying down.

But even the idea of that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

So, he began to pace.

He paced, and paced, and paced, with his hands on his hips. From the living room, to the kitchen, down the hall, and back again.

It all felt like too much. He wasn't just thinking about today. He was thinking about his mom. He was thinking about the military. He was thinking about the red handkerchief. He was thinking about waking up in a stranger's apartment with no clue what happened the night before.

He was thinking, thinking, thinking, pacing, pacing, pacing, and he needed it all to stop.

Just stop!

So he did something he never thought he'd do.

He wasn't even sure what made him do it.

All he remembered was pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing the number.

988.

“988 crisis lifeline, this is Penny. How can I help you today?”

He froze.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

He swallowed. Closed his eyes.

“I'm here.”

“Oh, good. May I ask who I'm speaking with?”

“Tommy,” no attempt to try for a fake name.

“Hi, Tommy! I'm Penny. I know I said it before, but I like to make sure the people I speak to heard me. Tommy, ca-”

“I'm not... I don't wanna kill myself,” Tommy interrupted, needing to make it clear. “I just needed someone to talk to.”

“Okay.” Her voice was soothing, familiar almost. A voice that Tommy hadn't heard in years. “That's what I'm here for, Tommy. What's on your mind?”

He tried to think of what to say. Tried to figure out the perfect way to start the conversation.

He was usually so put together.

But everything felt off.

“I hate Christmas.”

He wasn't sure why that was the first thing that popped into his brain at this moment, but it was out there now.

“A lot of people have complex feelings about holidays. It can be tough sometimes, no doubt about it.”

The tiny admission seemed to open a floodgate for Tommy. “My mom was thirty-eight when she died, and I'm thirty-eight now,” he explained. He was sure the words coming out of his mouth were just as jumbled as the thoughts in his head. “And she- she didn't die around Christmas. She actually died in June, so I don't know why I keep thinking about her today of all days, but I do. Not just her; I'm thinking about a lot of things. But it all sort of leads back to her at the end, I guess.”

“Was Christmas important to her?” Penny asked.

“She loved it when I was really little. Always liked looking at the lights and taking me to the mall to pick out things I wanted. I think my dad ruined Christmas for her though.”

“He wasn't big on the holiday?”

“He wasn't big on family. Looking back, I can see how being with him changed her. I didn't recognize it back then.”

“You were young. She probably didn't want you to recognize it.”

Tommy sighed, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “She didn't get thirty-nine Christmases, you know? And that doesn't really seem fair. Because I'm here for my thirty-ninth Christmas and I don't even like the damn day. She deserved more. She deserved better.”

“It's never easy to understand why the people we love get taken from us too soon. It can be especially difficult when we lose them as a child.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “She didn't get taken from me,” he bit out, “she left me.”

There was a pause on the line, then, “I'm sorry?”

“Yeah, she uh, she made that choice to leave herself. Stuck me with my dad, who never really gave a crap about me in the first place, and she... she was just gone.”

“I'm sorry about that, Tommy. That's a lot to have to deal with as a kid.”

“I don't ever talk about it, about her. I don't really have anyone to talk about it with. My dad never cared for emotions, so I just plaster a smile on my face and put my shoulders back and keep going.” Tommy shook his head, clearing his throat and wiping away the tears that were pooling in his eyes. “That's not why I called though. Not because of her.”

“Okay,” Penny replied. “Tell me why you called, Tommy.”

Tommy rolled his shoulders, trying to rid himself of some of the tension running through his body. “I did something stupid at work today, and I knew better. I just didn't care.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I work for the fire department. I'm a firefighter pilot, but today I was on the ground. We were called to a fire at this house- well, more like a mansion- and we thought we had the place cleared. Then the daughter started yelling for her dad. I headed back inside and found him, um,” Tommy paused, taking in a shaky breath.

“It's okay, Tommy. Take your time.”

“He- He was at the source of the fire. A fairly large space heater exploded and the fire had spread quickly. The house was about to collapse, and I was being told to get out, but I stayed. Long story short, I was able to get the man out right before the structure collapsed. He was severely burned though. If he makes it, and it's a big if, he's going to wish he hadn't. My captain won't let me fly for a while now. Sent me home early.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I wasn't even supposed to work today. I took the shift because I hate this damn holiday.”

“You've mentioned that three times now,” Penny noted.

“What?”

“How much you dislike Christmas. Tommy, do you think that maybe the risk you took today had something to do with the fact it's Christmas? Emotions were already high, making you take risks you wouldn't usually take?”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed. “Maybe? I don't really know though, because I feel like I'm ready to take those same risks any day, anytime. I said it before, and I meant it, I'm not trying to die. I just... I don't think I care if I do. It didn't matter to me if I didn't make it out. We're all gonna die someday, you know? That's what I always figure. What's it matter if it's now?”

“I think it would matter to the people who love you. The people who care about you.”

“I don't think I know anyone well enough for them to be affected by my death.”

“Well, it would matter to me,” Penny replied matter-of-factly, and Tommy couldn't help but let out a laugh.

“I dunno, I can be kind of a bitch sometimes.”

“Thank God for that, I'd hate it if you were too perfect.”

“Well, I never said I wasn't perfect. Perfect and bitch can go together, right?”

“I think it's a great pairing.”

A smile lingered on Tommy's face. He couldn't remember the last time he spoke to someone so openly. “Penny?”

“I'm here.”

“Would you stay on the phone with me until Christmas is over?”

“Honey,” she answered, Tommy softening at the name, “I can honestly say there's nowhere else I'd rather be.”

Penny stayed on the phone with him until 12:01. She was willing to stay on the line longer, but by the time Tommy had watched the clock strike midnight, he was ready to go to bed.

He felt better. A little lighter than he had in a while.

He'd been in bed for about fifteen minutes, and was just dozing off when his phone buzzed.

It was Captain Marks.

The man from the house fire died on the operating table.

I know you wanted to save him, Tommy.

Unfortunately we can't save them all.

Tommy stared at the texts for a good ten minutes before switching over to the phone app and dialing 988 again.

[bappablipblip]

[Spoilers for the Warframe Whispers in the Walls and 1999 Quests]

The way that Albrecht responds to the Indifference in this scene is so pivotal in my opinion. It opens up a lot of conversation about Albrecht Entrati and his motives.

He immediately recognizes the feel of the hand on his shoilder without even looking. He knows that the Indifference took on the form of his lover. The way the hand creeps up and caresses shoulder may not have matched exactly, but he knows what Loid feels like.

His face even screams that he knows who it is. But he knows it isn’t real. Loid isn’t ACTUALLY with him, which is the whole point.

Albrecht went to incredible lengths to keep the Indifference away from Loid but I interpret this part of the quest as him accepting the fact that he’s not going to see his beloved for a long time, yet still indulging in the fact that he can see him again.

But it also implies that Albrecht now knows that the Indifference is aware of Loid and has been watching him for some time (which may have driven Albrecht to have a bigger sense of urgency when the Drifter refused to kill “Rusalka”). It understand that there is a bond, but it can’t replicate it in a way that matters.

The Indifference shifts between the scientist and his assistant, mocking their dynamic as a way to torture Albrecht. It implies that Albrecht is abusive and toxic towards Loid, with the former referring to the latter as his “faithful man-cat”. In this warped view of their relationship, Albrecht does whatever he pleased to Loid and feels like he can treat and do whatever he wants to his lover, even going as far as to putting his hands on him. And Loid is seen as a forever obedient and unrequited servant, devoted and damsel-like.

As seen in the Whispers in the Walls quest, this isn’t at all how the characters genuinely behave towards one another. Loid is PISSED at Albrecht for leaving him, not desperate to get him back. He scorns their relationship, although he slowly starts to heal, but overall wants nothing to do with him. And Albrecht is gentle with him in the moments before he departs to 1999.

This is what makes Albrecht realize what the Indifference’s weakness is, it cannot fathom love.

All it knows is fear and negative emotions. Up until now, it has never replicated anything good or tasteful. It can’t understand what love is worth and what it can make people do for one another.

Albrecht literally goes back in time to protect Loid and to some (more assumed) extent, his daughter and in-laws, out of love. Even if Loid could not see the adoration Albrecht held for him (which is totally valid, its literally entrati.), the Indifference tries to use him as a method of torture against the Doctor. It’s also what makes Albrecht realize what he needs the Drifter to do. He tells the Drifter to develop relationships with every Hex member so that they trust them enough to let the player help themselves.

If Albrecht was loveless and did not have people in his life that he cared about, he probably would not have worked so hard to fight the Indifference. Sure, he’s pretty egotistical and a narcissist with a slight god complex, but he did not need to do everything he’s done to fight the Murmur. He’s too smart, he would know when it is hopeless. But he still fights, for love.

Also, if Albrecht wasn’t Albrecht and the Indifference could copy Loid’s mannerisms to a tee, then the doctor would have definitely felt more despair and struggle during his torture session.

That’s just my rant. I realized not many ppl have talked about this yet.

Ha! That's it, isn't it? The poison to your plan. And what is that? Love.

[viperify]

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴏꜱɪᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I Appreciate You.

Short summary: After some persuasion, Tom joins you for Christmas dinner. Only then he finds out your parents haven’t exactly treated you well and seizes the opportunity to show you what it means to be truly appreciated.

Warnings: nothing, just fluff (for now…)

A/N: I have entered a bad case of writing block halfway through this, so I cut it short. I AM SORRY. I’ll take a day or two off and write a pt 2☹️

wordcount: 1,6k

Tom and you have been friends for a while – or rather study accomplices, as he would call it. Though lately, you have grown closer. Oddly close, at least if you knew Riddle, who wasn’t one to interact with others unless it served a purpose. You have known that from the beginning, so it never really appeared to you why he would be different towards you exactly – but you weren’t going to complain about someone tutoring you after all – someone who was equally as smart as pretty.

“You forgot pearl dust.” he sighs in disappointment, not looking up as he fidgets with his quill. “Tom it’s been two hours, my head is a mess. Let’s take a break?”

His gaze flicks from his quill to your eyes and stares at you briefly before speaking up. “I don’t take breaks. If you want me to keep being generous enough to help you, you do it my way.”

That’s how it goes every single time. You don’t argue against it – you just do what he says. The desperation to become better at Potions is greater than your ego after all and you have also come to notice it is better not to talk back to him. The last time you did, he wouldn’t even speak to you for two weeks after.

Tom clears his throat and you return your focus to the present. “It’s been an unnecessarily long time since you have started staring at me. Focus on your textbook.”

“Right, right! Sorry.” Your cheeks heat up and you repeat the brewing process from the beginning.

After what feels like an eternity, he is satisfied – as much as he could be. Tom obviously is never fully satisfied, always has something to criticize that you didn’t do right, something he says you would need to work on the next time you two meet to study.

There was always going to be a next time.

As you two pack up, you see house elves working on the Christmas decorations just outside the library, putting up a pine tree and some red and golden ornaments. It’s the Thursday before winter break, and you would soon go home to spend the time with your family. They have told you to bring a friend, though all of them have declined so far. You would just go alone. Until – well, you think about Tom.

“Uh, I actually have one more question.” You start, turning to face him. He raises his eyebrows expectantly signalling you to continue. “Soooo, I have been wanting to ask you whether you wanted to join me for Christmas dinner at home. My parents have asked me to bring someone along.”

“We aren’t friends. Besides that, I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

That’s exactly the answer you assumed he’d give, but you weren’t going to give up that easily. Your family has been talking about him often lately, about the Gaunt family, purebloods just like you. All the things they say you don’t understand anyway. It’s been like that since you were born, they always favoured your older brother over you. You have stopped arguing against it.

“Come on, Tom! It’s just a dinner, one evening. I know you don’t usually leave Hogwarts for Christmas break, I just wanted to give you the opportunity to meet my parents. They have been talking about you.”

He contemplates for a moment then. He is aware that his family, at least his mother’s side, has caught people’s attention. Apparently also the Rosiers’. Rosier family, part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It would only be to his benefit to get to know them personally. And he hated admitting it, but lately - he has found himself strangely intrigued by you. A smart girl, who wouldn’t normally need his tutoring, not if he didn’t tell you to come back every week for another lesson.

“I suppose I will think about it. If I decide for it, I will join you at the train station.”

Your lips curl into a bright smile. “Thank you, Tommy! You are the best.”

He sighs. “How often have I told you to stop calling me that?”

“Sorry, sorry! I am just super excited to introduce you. They have been pestering me with questions about your mother’s family.”

You swear you see a slight spark in his eyes at the mention of his mother, though his usual stern expression returns just a second later. “Have a good evening.” he replies and leaves you behind at the library without saying another word.

-

There has not been a single sign of Tom when you board the train. Secretly you have hoped he would come and join you, though as soon as you leave the station you find yourself at peace with the fact you’d be going home alone for the break. The scenery shifts as you look out of the window, a thick layer of snow covering the otherwise green Scottish Highlands. You see deer scavenging for any grass they can find, scraping at the frozen ground with their hooves, the nearby hares’ white winter fur blending in perfectly with the scenery.

There aren’t too many students in your wagon, meaning you get to have a compartment all for yourself. Just like normally, your eyes grow tired, voices around you turning into a blur, and you fall asleep.

It wasn’t long until someone clearing their throat, taking a seat next to you woke you again. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asks, and you turn to face him.

Your face lights up at the sight of the person in front of you. “Tom! I am so happy you decided to come along!”

“I suppose it’s a welcome opportunity to connect with another renowned family.” he replies, and you nod, though slightly disappointed. “Of course.”

The rest of the journey, both of you don’t speak much. It’s a weird energy between you, something you don’t quite recognize. You are glad – as glad as you could be, knowing your family awaits you just outside – when the train arrives at your station. Both of you get off, and your mother’s and father’s faces light up at the sight of, not you, but Tom. They greet him first, ask him how the journey has been.

It’s only when you arrive at home that they ask you to help prepare dinner while Tom’s being shown around the manor. Even at dinner they won’t let him be and you wonder whether it was a good decision to bring him home with you.

In a moment of silence, your mother first looks at you, then at him. A smile forms on her face, something you only rarely get to see and you wonder what may be behind it.

“We are so glad you have decided to join us. Our daughter really couldn’t have chosen a better boyfriend.”

Oh.

You feel your heart drop in your chest at her words. They must have misunderstood the situation. Your cheeks heat up and you see Tom’s face changing into one of confusion.

Trying to save the evening, you quickly try to explain. “No it’s- we are not-“

“I am pleased to hear I am meeting your expectations.”

Tom’s words cut you off, and for a moment you aren’t sure whether you have heard him correctly. You blink a few times and shoot him a confused look, and he smiles at you.

Smiles.

You nod quickly, lowering your gaze onto the plate in front of you as you feel your cheeks heat up. For the rest of the evening, you don’t say much, even when you all gather around the Christmas tree. They ask questions about your relationship, which only Tom answers. He sits next to you and as the night progresses, his hand wanders up your lower back, snaking around your waist. You visibly shiver at his touch but decide to play along.

As soon as everyone has excused themselves to bed, you move away a little, escaping his grip. “Tom, I am sorry, they must have completely misunderstood.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“No really I-“

“Sshhh.” he whispers, his face inching closer to yours then, capturing you in a tender kiss. His hand rests on the back of your head, softly pressing you against him. You inhale deeply as you break apart, your eyes trailing up from his lips to his eyes. It’s only the candles on the Christmas tree that shine a dim light on both of your forms, yet you are able to make out the changed look on his face.

“We shouldn’t.” you murmur, shaking your head.

“I see the way you look at me in the library. And you perfectly know why I want to keep meeting you. Yet both of us are too stubborn to admit it.”

Though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“I just didn’t think you would like someone like me.”

Tom huffs. “You never acknowledge your worth, and I suspect that is what your parents have taught you. They don’t see your potential. They diminish your achievements. Why do you let them?” he asks, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I have stopped caring a long while ago. You know how it is.”

Tom doesn’t reply after that, though his hand continues running up and down your back soothingly. You stay like this for a while, until he slowly turns his head, facing you.

“I will show them what it means to appreciate you.”

His voice is low and controlled as his face is a mere inch away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

“I will show you what it means to be appreciated.”

[loverangels]

enchanted

pairings: timothee chalamet x female reader

synopsis: your celebrity crush reveals his admiration for you and you can't help but tease him for it in your run in on the met gala

It was supposed to be a quiet day on set. Your latest project had been keeping you busy, and today was no different—costume fittings, script run-throughs, and a few late takes. The steady hum of activity kept you focused, but when you returned to your trailer for a break, your phone was blowing up.

Texts from friends, a slew of Instagram notifications, and several unread emails. Confused, you opened one from your manager, the subject line simply reading: You’ll want to see this.

It was a clip.

Timothée Chalamet, sitting comfortably on a late-night talk show, was in the middle of one of his now-infamous animated interviews. His laughter filled the screen, infectious and boyish, and for a brief moment, you smiled, charmed by him like everyone else.

But then the question came.

"So, Timothée, who’s your celebrity crush?"

The audience whooped, the host leaned in with a knowing grin, and Timothée, trying to play it cool, gave a little shrug.

He hesitated, his fingers running through his tousled curls in that effortless way only he could pull off. And then, with a tiny, almost bashful smile, he said your name.

Your actual name.

You froze.

The host’s mouth fell open, clearly not expecting it. "Really? Her?"

Timothée’s cheeks flushed pink, but he nodded. "Yeah, I mean, she’s incredible. Just ridiculously talented, you know? And beautiful, obviously. But she just seems..." He trailed off, his hands moving as if to grab the words out of the air. "...Like, really cool. Smart. Genuine. I don’t know, there’s something about her."

You watched the clip in stunned silence, replaying it again. And again. And again.

The internet was already in flames. Tweets, TikToks, and Instagram edits were flooding your notifications. Fans were losing their minds. You didn’t even have time to process how you felt about it.

---

A Week Later: The Met Gala

The Met Gala red carpet was chaos in the best way. Flashing cameras, booming voices, and the rush of silk, sequins, and couture gowns swept around you. You moved down the carpet like you’d done a hundred times before—posing for photos, answering questions, and offering polite smiles to everyone who crossed your path.

But tonight was different. You could feel it.

The buzz in the air, the way reporters whispered to each other before approaching you. It wasn’t hard to figure out why.

“Has Timothée seen you yet?” a cheeky journalist asked as you posed, their microphone in your face.

You laughed it off, tilting your head. "I have no idea," you replied, trying to keep your voice light. "But I think that’s the question of the night, huh?"

You moved on quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. The thought of running into him tonight had lingered in the back of your mind all week, but now, as the moment seemed to inch closer, the reality of it hit you.

And then it happened.

You felt it before you saw him—the weight of his gaze. Turning slightly, your eyes met his, and everything else seemed to blur out of focus.

He looked... breathtaking. A perfectly tailored avant-garde suit hugged his lean frame, the kind only he could make look effortlessly cool. His hair was swept back just enough to still be messy, and his lips curled into a soft, almost shy smile as he walked toward you.

The cameras went berserk.

He stopped just a foot away, his eyes never leaving yours. "Hey," he said, his voice low and familiar, as though you weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people and a sea of flashing lights.

"Hey," you replied, your throat suddenly dry.

He hesitated, his hands tucked into his pockets as he glanced around. "So... I feel like I should apologize."

You raised an eyebrow, your lips tugging into a smile. "For what?"

"For accidentally turning your life into a circus," he said, his grin sheepish, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of red.

You laughed softly, the sound cutting through your nerves. "It’s fine. If anything, you gave my publicist a new hobby. Crisis management is her favorite thing."

His laugh was boyish and genuine, and for a moment, it was just the two of you.

"You really do look amazing," he said after a beat, his voice softer now. His eyes traced the intricate details of your gown like he wanted to memorize it.

"So do you," you replied, and then, feeling a little bold, you added, "Though I guess you don’t need me to tell you that."

He chuckled, shifting slightly closer. "Not true. Compliments mean a lot more when they’re coming from you."

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, and you were thankful for the dimmed lights that kept the moment from feeling too exposed.

Before either of you could say more, a handler appeared at Timothée’s side, gently reminding him he had to finish the carpet.

He glanced at them, then back at you, clearly reluctant to leave. "Guess I’ll see you inside?"

"Maybe," you teased.

As he turned to go, he shot you one last look over his shoulder, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite name. Excitement, maybe. Or curiosity.

And as the night wore on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

[tinylilacbun]

OMG HIHIHI now I can pciture like, a dark!jj starting to feel his obsession be born in the very moment he lay his eyes on her from affar. And he watches her all the time, to how long she takes to take sip after sip of her drink until random things like who she talks to people around her and walks. And it scares even himself (at least at the begining), this new.. dark and delicious feeling he can't name it, he just knows it increases every time he sees her. Maybe it's the contrast of their nature, it's what he tries to tell himself. Maybe it's how his is so full of anger and complications and hers is so... pure. Full of light. All he knows is that the feeling inside him is growing and turning into a sentence in the back of his head that gets louder and louder: he needs her. He has to have her. One way or another.

Geez sorry the delulu in me got the hots and just went with the flow I guess

THATS EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT!!

He doesn't know why he's so intrigued with you, why he's interested in a kook of all people, but you're different, not all bitchy and spoiled or thinking you're something better than the pogues.

You're sweet, almost too pure, and he just can't help himself but keep his eyes on you the second he catches a glimpse of you at a keg party on the beach.

He studies how you don't really drink from your cup, only taking small sips as if you're scared to get caught, clenching his jaw when he sees Rafe draping an arm over your shoulder as you giggle at something he said.

That psychotic drug addict should be the last person you stand close to, but it's not surprising, you're a sight for sore eyes but JJ knows that the kook prince only looks for a little fun, not for the interesting person you actually are.

JJ thought it was just the alcohol that night that made him so obsessive over someone who he never really talked to, but somehow he finds himself coincidentally seeing you around Kildare more often...

It gets so bad that he even starts to sneak onto your family's property, hiding behind some bushes as he gets a clear view of your room from your open window, watching you get ready for bed.

You turn off the light of your vanity mirror, getting up and stifling a yawn as you walk towards your bed, carefully slipping under the soft covers and making sure that none of your plushies fall on the ground.

JJ is about to leave when you suddenly reach under your pillow and pull out a small Lovie, but what really gets his attention is when you push the attached pacifier past your lips, getting more comfortable on your bed.

Now that's even more interesting.

A few more weeks of watching you and doing his own research on his phone he thinks that he knows what this is that you're doing, that state you seem to revert to for whatever reason he hasn't figured out yet.

Normally he would just ask Pope, but he doesn't want any of his friends knowing or thinking about him being some creep that's been watching you for about a month now.

His obsession only grows the more he finds out about you, not being able to control himself anymore as he quietly climbs in through your window one night, that small voice in his head being more prominent every time he sees you and getting the better of him.

He feels completely out of place, the clean and neatly organized room mocking his appearance, but it's oddly calming with the fairy lights that adorn the headboard on your bed and the faint scent of the lavender candle that's lit up on your nightstand.

Finally his gaze lands on your sleeping figure, all snuggled in your sheets and a bunny plushie tucked under your chin as the pacifier slowly bobs in your mouth.

He knows this is sick, that he shouldn't even be here, but a part of him doesn't even care, only thinking about satisfying his need to be close to you to make that voice finally shut up for a while.

Standing beside your bed he tilts his head to the side, almost cooing at how adorable you look and completely unaware of him right next to your bed, cautiously reaching out to caress your cheek.

"I'll take care of you soon...just gotta prepare everything." He whispers more to himself. "I just need some more time but don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you until then."

You will be his, no matter what it takes, you'll understand one day and thank him for saving you.

But who's saving you from him?

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[tigerqueen767]

Helluva Boss Season Finale

So a homophobic client shows up and tells IMP to kill her husband for leaving her for a man and cheating (possibly.) IMP attempt to try and kill him but then Blizto can't do it cause of his feefees and cause he sees himself in that man. Forget that Blizto has killed many people for petty reasons before (Spring Broken is a good example, he literally killed tons of random people, many of which were probably gay, just because of a bet) and forget that he chastised Moxxie for doing the exact same thing (weird how Mox didn't bring that up honestly) NO, you can't criticize this gay man because he's so cute and gay. That's the message Viv is sending.

The moral of this episode is that if you criticize Stolas and Blizto's relationship, you're homophobic. Wowww... Just wow!

It couldn't possibly be because these two have absolutely no chemistry and only know eachother because of sex. It couldn't possibly be because Stolas made a creepy and predatory deal with Blizto. It couldn't possibly be because Stolas is a terrible person who lied to his daughter and is written terribly. Forget that Stolas risked his life for his fuck buddy when he should have stayed with his daughter. Forget that Blizto never wanted a serious relationship until now just because that's what the writers want. Forget everything I said and just sit back and watch Blizto and Stolas dance on the balcony since it's the only thing Viv cares about.

Stolizt is the only thing Viv cares about. That's what this episode proves once and for all. Their relationship is the only thing that had any meaningful continuity in season 1. Everything else was episodic material.

Maybe in Season 3 we'll focus on other things but it won't make up for the trainwreck of a Season this was.

Now, because I don't just want to be negative, let me talk about how this Season could have been 1000 times better. Let me offer a fix.

This Season would have been great if it split it's screen time 70-30 between the IMP stuff and the Stolas stuff. Let every member of IMP shine in their own episode. It's not like there isn't enough time. Explore Millie's prejudice against Hellhounds (cause we all know she doesn't respect Hellhounds.) Explore Millie's wrath and how it might help and hinder her. It might lead to devastating consequences depending on who she chooses to fight and why. Shoot first and ask questions later is not a good principle and I feel like that's exactly what she does. Have Loona and Via actually hang out! Show us how her timidness and introversion make that relationship start off rocky. Show us how she changes from a person who can barely hold a conversation in the Queen Bee episode to a person that would have a bunch of friends over for Sinsmas. That development WAS. NOT. THERE!!

Have Moxxie actually confront his fears. It looked like he was about to fight his dad but then he got tazed and his wife did all the work. Why? Have him stand up to Blizto finally and make Blizto respect him. Cause Blizto does not respect him. Look at the way he talks to him in Season 2 and tell me this is respectful. Plus, in the episode Truth Seekers he only congratulated Moxxie for killing well. That's it. He respects the work he does but not who he is as a person. That could have been explored in Season 2. That would have been a great arc.

As for Blizto show more of his relationship between him and his sister. Blizto brought Barbie up again in the finale and it sounds like they really want us to care about her character but she wasn't even in the flashback episode. In order to fix the flashback episode, get rid of Stolas! Don't make a flashback that includes Stolas at all. Just make it about life in the circus performing with Blizto, Barbie and Fizz.

And instead of a giant special episode about Fizz and his terrible boss how about an episode dedicated to Stolas and Via's relationship. Why not write a song about how they've lived their lives over the years. Show us what it was like to BE her.

I'm getting tired of writing now. I hope you enjoyed reading this, at least a little.

[nitewcat]

Mapicc logging on right after flame killed Leo, immediately messaging zam, asking him to help him kill flame, something they've done together countless times before because even if they were on different teams they could still kill flame together right??? Whether it be the empire or atlas or mawn or zaun. Then zam refusing to help him, basically confirming that he had been completely abandoned. If there was one thing that zam could ever rely on mapicc for it was getting him on to fight against mane and flame. Killing them was something they decided to do together. And now zam wasn't even willing to help him with that???

And mapicc seeing that book zam wrote to derap. Zam has never shown his appreciation for mapicc in that way before to the point at which mapicc felt like he was simply someone to be used by zam. The way zam protects derapchu so desperately. It's clear that he cares so much more about derap than mapicc. Whether this is actually true or not does not matter because that's how it looks right now to everyone involved.

And derapchu saying he doesn't hate mapicc, but mapicc hates him. Yet all he does is complain about mapicc and is so clearly against him despite zam wanting to remain neutral with mawn and keep ties with mapicc. Derap wants to recruit more people to zaun. He wants to spite mapicc. And he does not want to work with mapicc at all. If derap was not in call when mapicc logged on again to ask zam to help him with killing flame, would zam have accepted? To get his teammate back? Even derap in chat while mapicc was trying to talk to zam about the drowning of spawn. Could zam have expressed more clearly how much he cared about mapicc if derap wasn't there? And derap for his part very clearly showing how little he understood how much mapicc cared about zam in that moment, laughing and pointing out things mapicc could be lying about in the chat.

Zam has derap now, and at least mapicc had flame for a couple of days, but now mapicc has absolutely no one. Can Spoke get on? Can minuite grind back up to 20 already? Can ro come back? Mapicc, who had already been feeling lost before he started mawn, seems to have come out of it even more lost and confused and alone.

Mapicc was always there when zam asked him to come online to kill mane and flame. Even though they weren't teammates, and even though the empire had done things zam didn't like, and even though zams oath was lowkey, holding them both back. But now, when mapicc asks zam for the same thing back, it's just not reciprocated. Even mapicc not hitting zam once during the fight and begging him to join mawn compared to zams absolute denial of him, and his decision to be completely cut ties with mawn and therefore mapicc to appease his morals and desire to remain on good terms with mapicc. They care about each other so much, but zam has someone to turn to when things get rough and mapicc has no one else. There is an imbalance in this relationship. Probably not by how much they each care but more so their situations right now.

The thing is tho when zam was truly alone in fighting against mane and flame mapicc could be a constant in his life and now that mapicc is alone, zam can't do that for him. Yet they both still try so hard to stay together despite it. Zam constantly thinking about mapicc, worrying what actions will affect mapicc and mawn without impeding on his morals, trying to walk the fine line of being mapiccs enemy or being mapiccs teammate. Always compromising his beliefs for mapicc, turning a blind eye, building the orbital, and even now not actively going against mawn. And mapicc communicating with zam, talking to him, telling him as much as he can bring himself to about how he feels about their relationship, constantly trying to find a way to work together again with zam.

Right now so much is keeping them apart but they still long for each other and they still feel hurt by each other and they still care about each other but everything is slowly falling apart and I just hope when it comes down to it something horrible happens to both of them and they end up just as devoted to each other as enemies as they were when allied. Or they can communicate and work together and be happy please that'd also be great. Can happy devotions be my Christmas miracle, please, and thank you, santa pangi !!!!

[bubbipond]

Bison had no intention (in the beginning) of being with Kant just as much as Kant/Style had/have no intentions of being with Fadel/Bison. Now this is just my opinion, and in no way, am I trying to be condescending (since I’ve gotten that before when I have made analysis posts). In a general sense, if you are easily defensive, maybe reading people’s opinions is not for you. But if you want to read because you like to read other people’s thoughts, enjoy. ❤️

I am going to use *10 Things as my reference because I think it leans more towards that adaption than it does *Taming. If you haven’t read Taming or watched 10 Things, this may help you understand what a lot of the fandom talks about. For those who have watched or read either of the references for THK we know that the story is that Kat (Fadel) is the impossible sister who will never marry, and that Bianca (Bison) is the sister that everybody wants. In order to get both of his daughter’s married, their father decides to make it a rule that the only way Bianca can get married is if Kat gets married. This leads to the plot of manipulating Kat into being “Tamed” by her love interest in the original text (the movie moves away from this and instead has Patrick love her for who she is).

Going back to Bison, his character reflects that of Bianca; the very popular, beautiful, and wanted little sister (brother). The thing that I think some people are getting wrong about Bison is that he is more of a loverboy than he actually is. In the movie adaption, Bianca has no intention of ever being with Cameron. I’d say she’s not even that into Joey either, just wants the popularity dating him brings. She uses him as a ruse to get Kat to finally date so she can date. In the beginning, she kind of sees Cameron as a cute puppy. Almost like this person that she can manipulate just because she knows they want something from her. She eventually does start to like Cameron, but there are trials that she has to go through to see that. That being said, I don’t think Bison initially wanted to be with Kant. I think much like Bianca he was trying to free himself from what he sees as a lack of freedom and free will.

It’s not that I’m saying he doesn’t want revenge for his parents (he obviously does, but that is seemingly a ruse by “mom” to keep them around). But it is more so that just like Bianca, his brother is an obstacle within itself. The issue here is that he loves his brother (just like Bianca loves Kat) but neither set of siblings truly knows the other. They fight to protect each other, but can’t even do that because how do you protect someone you don’t truly understand? The only person in the reference material who is truly a victim of the plot is Kat (Fadel) as they are the only people in their stories who have genuine feelings for Patrick (Style). At no point is any of it a joke or a game or even a ploy to get what they want. In general, neither Kat nor Fadel are that savvy and both are far too levelheaded to do anything that the other characters do. So when you look at the motivation behind Bison’s attempt at freedom, he has to be far more savvy than anyone around him.

This is because you have to keep in mind that both Bianca and Bison’s goals aren’t to trick or hurt their sibling. They are looking for someone who would love their “difficult” sibling while also getting something in return. Bison didn’t mean for Kant to hire someone to fake like his brother. Just as much as Bianca didn’t ask Cameron to hire someone to fake date her sister. They are both fiercely protective of their older sibling and that is why we constantly see Bison five steps ahead or paying attention to things that even Fadel isn’t. I think what adds to the story is that the stakes are much higher. In 10 Things you have a bunch of high schoolers dealing with pretty high school issues. But in this sense, you have people’s livelihood at stake. So I think it feels like so much more pain is being brought up than in the original media. It’s easier to find fault in Kant, Style, and Bison because we’re watching a bunch of people do pretty terrible things. But I think for this type of story, you have to kind of remove morals because all four are pretty morally gray. None of them are perfect people or, like in the movie, kids.

Anyway, that’s all for me! Bye!

*Taming = Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare (play) *10 Things=10 Things I Hate About You (movie adaption of said play).

[ender-cloud]

HYDE IS IN THIS UPDATE HOLY SHIT!!!

Tgs spoilers under cut

Haha, you guys remember that one off comment i made last week

Ha ha ha……. Oh god, I’ll get to that when I get to it. Lets start with more of Jaspers good points and leadership skills first

Jasper makes a great point here.

The Lodgers are the society! They make the magic, the energy, the environment, Jekyll is just the ring leader of it all making sure things don’t get to out of hand, but in the end he had started to have a hard time being able to find that control and keep them in check.

This is why a type of “revolution” like this will do more good then harm in this situation because it will allow Jasper to take Jekylls place of keeping everyone together as the times turn and they need to protect themselves.

But uh… maybe the lodgers might not see this as I do

Ok ok, I get the Lodgers hesitants, Fritz brought to my attention that because Jasper is the newest lodger, despite everything they probably dont have enough trust in him.

Which I definitely get, they are in hard times right now and its hard to trust Jasper, even if they’ve known him for a while they were just betrayed by someone they’ve known for years, how can they trust someone they’ve known for a little over a month (I think)

Also theres a reason why I said that one off comment, not only because it was a trope I see a lot, but because I truly felt like it was a possibility

BUTTTT!! With this it doesn’t necessarily mean that they wont 100% not follow through with what Jasper is saying.

It is clear that they are unsure, yes, but they may need to think it over, and theres got to be a few lodgers who agree with his points.

Some who agree with Jasper that may help the other Lodgers get on board to. If they are truly Reluctant to Jasper leading them because they haven’t known him for long, if some people who they have been living with for years joining up may give them the boost to join.

Jasper made many great points in his speech, and with so many people not everyone could have disagreed with what he said.

I believe this moment of doubt will be just that, a moment, but once other people start agreeing and maybe adding their own points, then it will grow into what Jasper wanted before, the lodgers believing him and letting him lead them in this hard time

It will be the next part of this turning point into someone more confident for Jasper, because while motivating the lodgers with words might be easy, actually forming a plan and leading them through it will be harder, it will also teach him to not give up quickly when things look bad.

Hyde’s just casually acting like he didn’t just have a mental breakdown and immediately just teases Lanyon (I love them so much chat it’s unreal)

ALSO THIS CONFIRMS THAT HYDES MENTAL BREAKDOWN WAS HAPPENING THE SAME TIME AS JASPERS SPEACH!!!

Anyway, back to the actual pannel.

I find it interesting how in Hydes head, he also has a reputation to keep up, its not just Jekyll. The only difference is that hyde has his tough guy, bad boy rep (I hate myself for saying that) He cant let anyone see his weakness, not even Jekyll.

He clearly has mentally trained himself to be able to just change his mood on a switch, but even if he can change how he acts his face has to show some evidence of what happened, i mean we’ve seen him be a little bloody from the glass and Lanyon must have seen that too.

He might be talking about what Hyde looks like when he said he made quite a mess out of himself, not only the glass, which might make Hyde nervous, i feel like he wont be able to keep his facade up for long with how he was acting before.

It’s a little hard delve into the few words they exchanged but im excited for the next update, which may include some blaming of what happened to Jekyll.

(Also more Lanyon and Hyde which I’ll take anyday 🙏🙏)

Happy Holidays Btw!! I hope you have a great Christmas or anything you may celebrate!!

[laauranenn]

I love how maturely you handled the negative asks from The Anon I really admire you for it! I would also like to add on to your already on point analysis: Each arc is really significant for Sakura. Shishitoren arc I feel highlighted what could've been Sakura's future had he followed the same path he planned on that is becoming the top of Furin. Ume teaching Sakura how to use fighting as a conversation was a significant moment and the beginning of Sakura's change as a person who isn't all about fights, the moment he started evolving. Keel arc further steeled his character in the sense it showed a vulnerable side of him. Sakura, who had never been cared for, realizing he has people he wants to protect and struggles with it. His senpai and friends take the spotlight because they are there to help him. Just because other characters are getting a spotlight doesn't mean Sakura is losing it, it's simply to highlight their role in Sakura's life, and of course to give an insight about those characters themselves. Also one thing a lot of people often fail to notice is how much the plot revolves around Sakura. Everyone actually praises him for valor. Especially when you notice how Nirei was awestruck watching Shishitoren and Roppo Ichiza be friends because he's from the town, he knows how dire the situation used to be and now those enemies are Furin's friends but Sakura doesn't realize that because he wasn't there before the New Furin. He doesn't know his own impact so he doesn't think he has done much when he changed so much, not just as a person, but the town as well. Also how Ume said he didn't consider asking help from others like Sakura did because he thought Sakura considered that a possibility because he was from outside but he didn't consider the probability that maybe Sakura thought it was okay to ask for help because that's what he's been taught since he joined Furin. "Rely on your Brother" as Ume put it and Sakura really did. This town, this school and even the other gangs, they shaped him and are still doing so. Sakura's character isn't something you can interpret in isolation neglecting the role of his friends. Sorry for the rant I have been getting peeved by the Anon and wanted to share this. Sorry for any mistakes English is not my first language. Thank you for your time!

Thank you so much!! I mostly started this because I wanted to give the guy a chance to actually talk about their opinions on Wind Breaker and it's writing !! I figured that there might actually be something there other than just trolling or rage bait.

AND I WAS RIGHT !!

And thank you for adding your own analysis to this!! You've explained Sakura's involvement in the arcs really well!! That was something I kind of struggled to do in my analysis! I wasn't sure how to explain how involved he truly is in the story, even if it might seem otherwise to some!

And don't worry about the writing, English isn't my first language either!!

[bee-devilling]

Nope! In fact I have very thoroughly thought out Misha's middle name and the lore behind it (partially because I headcanon him as trans, so his name is obviously an important decision to him)

Middle names are patronymic in Ukraine, he's going to get his father's name, despite the fucker being better fit as a sperm donor than an actual father.

But Misha has a rebellious attitude, and a forged birth certificate, so he can fix this.

So while his mother puts in Михайло (Mykhailo) on the birth cert, and asks about changing the suffix of his middle name (because it's gendered, translates to son/daughter of ___) he's like "actually, I've a better idea"

Because this is the fake one, and his adoptive parents will have no concept of Ukrainian naming customs. It's also the one the government will never find, so he doesn't have to stick to Ukrainian naming customs if he doesn't want to (and he doesn't, because his dad sucks).

Everyone but him and his mother will be none the wiser. But they know what his birth cert says, and they are the only people who need to know that at least on a sentimental and not-quite-legal level, that his name is Михайло Тамаравич Бачинський, Mykhailo (Misha) Tamaravych Bachynsky.

According to the government though, his name is Тетяна Олександрівна Бачинський, Tetyana Oleksandrivna Bachynsky

Also, to add to the choir name headcanons:

Also also for the rest of the choir's middle names:

Constance Eleanor Blackwood (canon)

Ocean Faythe Justice O'Connell Rosenberg

Persephone Jennifer Lamb (listen I know that odds are, Penny's name is Penelope. Maybe it's mentioned in Legoland, idk, haven't read it. But I don't care, you can pry this name headcanon from my cold, dead hands)

Richard Keenan Potts

For other characters names/personalities (probably way too detailed but eh) (also I don't have these for everyone but hopefully I will soon I'd love to add to this):

Noel Dorian Casimir Gruber

I think Constance's brothers (I hc there's two of them, fraternal twin boys) would have classic names like Constance does, but they can have cute nicknames like Connie. I've named them Matthew/Mattie and Alexander/Lex. Lex has a very similar personality to Constance, he tends to stick by her or his brother, and is extremely shy. He's not very vocal about his wants or needs, but Mattie was always ready to speak up for him if he needed it. Mattie is a complete social butterfly, and has enough energy and enthusiasm to make up for the timidness of his two older siblings. The second he learned to talk, he did not shut up.

Noel's mom is Roxanne, and to put it simply, she would lay down her life for her son (in fact she basically already has, if we're going by my idea of what happened with Noel's dad. And she'd fucking do it again) and sure, maybe she didn't deal with his coming out in the best way possible, but she does care about him and she just wants him to be safe above all else, and unfortunately in the situation they're in that means they have to barricade the metaphorical closet door just a little. I also headcanon that Noel has an older sister named Camille, she's about 7 years older than him and moved out without any indication of where she was going or where she might be now.

Misha's mother is Tamara, obviously, she's named in the musical. She was the coolest mom ever. She never cared about his grades in school (thought to be fair to him, he was a great student when he lived in Ukraine), she was always encouraging about his hobbies, and she was definitely the first follower of BagEgg on YouTube. She wanted to raise him to be as independent of her as he could be, and she realised once she got sicker that it was the best possible thing she could have done. She was very accepting of him when he came out as trans; well it wasn't coming out as such, it was 6-year-old Misha insisting he wasn't a girl and that he didn't want to be Tetyana anymore. She tried to help him as much as she could, and when she had to forge his birth certificate to get him out of the country she happily changed his name on it, if it meant he could live a safer life in Canada without any judgement based on what he was or wasn't born as. I also think Misha has a little sister, Lyuba. She also emigrated to Canada with Misha, but they went to different homes at opposite ends of Saskatchewan, and he hasn't seen her since.

Would it be stupid to have middle name headcanons for the choir?

And name headcanons/very light personality trait ideas for their family and friends (if they have any)?

[beetlethebug]

okay so i'm thinking about like. in my emmrich x rook x lucanis x spite polycule, it probably bothers emmrich (and spite) that spite cannot be heard by rook. so, he and bellara team up to use the power of ancient elven technology, some magic, and a whole lot of sleepless nights to make something for spite to speak into that allows rook to hear them. kind of like an object for him to possess, in a way? in my mind it's like an earring or ear cuff, and it's a set. lucanis, emmrich, and rook each have a piece, so no one gets left out. in my mind it works a lot like the earrings of sending from the vox machina season of critical role. they can touch the earring and send a message to a person who has an earring.

they spend a whole day just testing the limits. can spite speak to rook when they're all the way across the lighthouse? how about half-way into arlathan woods? can rook speak to them underwater (quickly abandoned for obvious reasons). spite is so so happy for rook to be able to hear him that he talks to them all the time. Lucanis finds it hard to be annoyed when Spite is so eagerly and happily saying "Hi, Rook," for the fourteenth time that day. Maybe it's because he gets to hear Rook giggle and say, "Hello, Spite," back.

spite being able to ask every question that he wants! spite who has two patient teachers (and lucanis) readily available to answer any question that he has. yeah, sometimes they're silly. but it's also so fucking charming when spite goes "do you like this?" and then seeing twelve of them in their room later. spite who can now ask for help when lucanis cannot. who isn't afraid to admit when they're struggling because what's the point? help is right there and he can reach them now!!!!

spite who is so happy because now he can flirt with rook directly! and he can flirt with emmrich and rook when they aren't in the same room!! spite who will get on the line and demand manfred updates. emmrich who finds a way to fashion it for manfred to wear so lucanis and rook get to hear manfred and spite chatting away. (it's actually very endearing. they forget that the others can hear and talk about how much they love and care about their people and they all get a little tear eyed).

i just!! i 100% think that between everyone in the veilguard they can absolutely provide spite with a vessel to communicate!

[rebelliousstories]

Online Shopping

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes x Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Alcohol, Brief Strong Language

Word Count: 1,779

Main Masterlist: Here

Marvel Masterlist: Here

Summary: Trapped in his own home, there’s very little that he can do to express himself, or show that expression to anyone else. But Sergeant Barnes ain’t no quitter; he just has to navigate a new world.

Consider Donating: Here

Going out to a physical store during the holidays was a but too much for Bucky right now. Sure, he could go into high stakes, life-threatening missions with no problem. Dealing with crazy crowds of angry shoppers trying to get their last minute gifts? Absolutely not.

However, he had yet to find the perfect gift for a certain someone. This one woman that went to the same bar that he frequented that he actually had a lot in common with. Read the same type of books, enjoyed similar music; even had the same affinity for obscure, random, useless facts.

So here Bucky was, days before Christmas, struggling to find the gift he wanted to give her without leaving the house. He was supposed to meet her at the bar Christmas Eve to spend some time together, and he was hoping to give her a present then. However, there was no way he was going to leave his apartment to go shopping.

That is, until James remembered something Sam had mentioned recently. There was shopping online. It was a brilliant idea, with just one small problem; he had no idea how it worked. Begrudgingly, Bucky tried to talk himself into contacting his partner. He knew that Sam would never let him live this down.

Forcing himself to pick up the phone, Barnes reluctantly dialed up the number. Part of him hoped that he wouldn’t pick up as they line just kept ringing and ringing and ri-

“Bucky, what’s up man?” Sam answered with a cheerful tone.

“Hey, Sam. I, um…” Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes as he talked himself into actually speak. “I need your help with something.”

“Sure, man. Whatcha need? Hold on, one sec.” There was some shuffling on the other end of the line before Sam came back on. The sound of children laughing, and people chattering came through. “Alright. What’s up?”

“Could you help me shop online?” Bucky asked, shifting from foot to foot.

“Come again?”

“I-I need to buy something and I don’t wanna go into stores right now.” He tried explaining as he paced around his apartment.

“Bucky, are you sure there isn’t someone else who could help you out? I’m on the opposite end of the country right now, man. What about that chick you’ve been talking about? The one from the bar.” Sam stared out into the vast open waters from the dock of his family home.

“Well, um… that’s who I’m getting the thing for. I kinda don’t want her knowing.” Scratching the back of his head, Bucky felt uncomfortable as he had been forced to say it aloud.

“Ooo, you sly dog, man!” Sam cheered. “Whatcha wanna get her?”

Now, there was a blush creeping up his neck from the man’s words. “A set of books.”

“Okay, now we’re working with something. You probably don’t have amazon set up yet so, can you find this set online? Like the Barnes and Nobles or Books-A-Million websites?” Wilson instructed, fully getting on board with this idea.

“Uh, yeah. Hold on.” Behind the phone, Sam could hear Bucky moving through his apartment to sit at his computer. Clacking keys, and mumbling were the only indicators that any progress was being made.

“Okay, okay. I found it on Books-A-Million. Add to cart, right?”

“Yep. See you got it man. Now, when you hit check out, you have the option of choosing whether or not to ship it or pick it up in store.” Sam continued to explain, trying to get his friend through this.

“Which do I pick?” Bucky was so confused staring at the computer.

“Whichever will get the item there faster and on time.”

“Will it say that somewhere?”

“Can you read the damn page?” Sam sighed, now, rolling his eyes.

Bucky snorted through his nose in contempt. “Alright, it says it can be at my apartment by tomorrow. What do I do now?”

“Click checkout and put in your card info.”

Some more clicking and typing occurred before James came back to the phone. “I think it’s done. Listen, um thanks Sam. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, man,” Sam started, “I just expect to be invited to the wedding.”

“Ha ha. Bye, Sam.” The phone call was disconnected without another chance for a reply. Leaning back in the desk chair, Bucky was fiddling with his hands as he thought about what he was going to do with wrapping.

He was not the best at presents, even back in his younger days. His sister or mom would always wrap presents for him, while he could, at best, put something in a pretty bag. Bucky was not even sure if he had wrapping paper around his apartment.

Which meant he needed to go get something to make it pretty before giving it to her. Which meant having to go out into the crowds of shoppers. A memory of seeing some wrapping paper at the bodega on the corner popped into his head. Maybe James could skip the lines and crowds that made him feel anxious.

Two nights later, Bucky was standing outside of the bar that they were supposed to meet at. In his hands, a gift bag heavy with the weight of books rested. The cold December air nipped at his cheeks, and made his breath appear in front of him, but he could not just walk in just yet. He was still trying to work up the nerve to go in and meet her. This night could be the end of their friendship in one way or another if he did not play it right.

Exhaling sharply, he pushed open the door. Scanning the room, Bucky smiled as he saw her happily sitting with a few drinks in front of her at a booth. Walking up, he opened his arms just in time for her to launch herself into them.

“Bucky! I missed you. Come on, I got the first round.” She kept a beaming grin as she hugged, and led the man over to his booth.

“Hey, missed you too. Thank you.” Sliding in, he set the gift bag on the seat as he sat down. Barnes clinked his bottle against hers and took a sip.

“So what have you been up to?” And thus began their conversation that would branch off into an evening together.

He loved hearing her talk. Even if she read the dictionary, Bucky could just listen to her forever. There was something calming about it. His mind was often flooded with too many voices, too many memories; it was just too active. This was the kind of voice that he could relax to. It gave him a sense of calm he could not replicate anywhere else.

“Oh,” her voice broke him from his trance. “Before I forget, here you go.”

A gift bag was set on the table, and pushed across to him. Bucky, with wide eyes, gently grasped the handles of the bag, and pulled it closer to him.

“What is it?” He whispered, eyes tracing over the decorative paper coming from the top.

“A bomb.” Her voice was deadpan, as was her expression. Leveling her with a similar look, Bucky chuckled when he saw her beaming now.

“Open it, silly.” At her encouragement, James delicately tore into the bag. Below the tissue paper, there was a box-like object wrapped in beautiful wrapping paper. He plucked it from the bag, and turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out what it was. Tearing a stripe through the paper, the second he saw what was inside, he became giddy.

“No. You didn’t.” Resting in his hands now, was an original 1937 copy of the Hobbit. The bindings were fresh, as if someone had recently redone the book. A distinct old book smell wafted into his nose when he opened the book. Flabbergasted, Bucky shifted his gaze between the book and the woman across from him.

“You mentioned you’d like to read it again and someone at my book club was looking to sell it. He gave me a steal because we’re friends. Said his grandfather originally owned it, and brought it with him when he moved to here from Germany.” She casually explained, shrugging and taking a swig of her drink.

“I… thank you. Truly,” Bucky reached his hands across to hold hers that was on the table, “I just- I don’t know what to say besides thank you.”

“It’s not a problem, Bucky.”

“This, um-” he cleared his throat, “makes my gift a little coincidental.”

Bucky reached next to him to place the bag on the table. He sat there, with bated breath and rapt attention as she began to dive into the bag. As opposed to her gift, his was just placed inside without wrapping paper. But James at least put some pretty tissue paper on top. And yet, even without the wrapping paper on the present, she was giddily pulling the books from the bag.

“You got the entire Neon Gods set for me? Oh, Bucky…” she sighed dreamily as she held and looked over each cover and backing.

“Yeah, well. You mentioned you’d wanted to read it.” Bucky smirked, catching a glint in her eyes. He did not want to get his hopes up, but he loved that little glint.

“You’re such a sweetie. Thank you.” Getting out of her seat, she went across to his section of the booth and wrapped him in a hug. Bucky pressed his nose into her hair, enjoying the comforting feeling of her embrace.

She sat back after a moment, and looked over her books again. “I still can’t believe you got me the entire set. All I got you was a single book.”

“Hey,” he shook her lightly, “don’t do that. I love this single book. However…”

At this she perked up. “However?”

“Maybe, you’d be able to get me one more Christmas present that’s been on my wishlist,” came Bucky’s ask, albeit very hesitantly.

“What is it?”

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?”

A second of utter silence passed between them. So long that Bucky was genuinely about to retract his statement, chalking it up to a joke. A very lame joke.

“I’d love to.” She muttered, dropping her eyes down to the shirt covering his chest. James breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nervous chuckles passed between the two of them as they took in the situation at hand.

“Okay, then.” Bucky threw his arm over her shoulder and pulled her in closer. He pressed a kiss to her hair as he basked in the triumph of the moment. Totally worth it in his book.