#hint harvard x yale | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

auroralwriting · 3 months ago

Note

hi! here’s a little fic idea or something to maybe toy around with: spencer with a blair waldorf-esque partner (maybe just a similar upbringing?? idk) but yeah, maybe like the insecurity that comes from growing up like that. or like the softness in finally opening yourself up to love where you had to make yourself cold before. idk.

fashion!

spencer reid x fem!reader

an exposing gala finally reveals your hidden wealth to your team, and to spencer

word count: 2.4k / warnings: pure fluff, negative self thoughts, spencer is a sweetie and rossi is supportive dad, no use of y/n, bombshell/rich girl reader

The luxurious life you lived was one you kept hush-hush, private, and behind closed doors for all who wanted to peek in. You knew it was obvious that you came from some money. You went to Yale and got your masters from Harvard. Sometimes, you wore more expensive clothing, like classic Louboutin heels or Dior sweaters.

You kept all of your money and lifestyle private for the simple fact that you didn't want to be treated differently at work. Your teammates, friends, were your favorite people. They were all very humble, sometimes minus Rossi, and so incredibly kind. You didn't want them to assume that Mommy and Daddy bought you this job. That you didn't deserve your position in the FBI.

However, when Rossi invited the team to an expensive gala where you knew people would recognize you, you realized you were absolutely doomed.

"I have no clue what to wear to things like these!" Penelope cried out in faux agony. You and the rest of the girls were shopping in the mall, not a fashion mall, but a regular one, for clothes to wear to the gala. "I don't dress up fancily ever!"

JJ smiled calmingly, "Pen, you'll look gorgeous in anything you wear."

Your brain began to work overtime, fashion knowledge bustling in your brain at a million miles an hour. "Pink," You said. Your voice was always on the cool side, your demeanor stoic like Hotch. You were the fun one, though, and knew how and when to let loose. You liked to think of yourself as highly mature and collected. "A blush pink, not rose. Rose will wash you out."

Penelope blinked in surprise, "Really?"

"Absolutely." You nodded in confirmation.

"Ooh," Emily clasped her hands together, "Do me!"

It took you no less than a second to reply. "Dark red, burgundy, maroon. You suit a darker feminine look." You turned to JJ, raising an eyebrow. "Have you ever considered emerald green?"

JJ paused for a moment, "No, I haven't."

"You should. It would bring out your eyes." You replied with the smallest hint of a smile.

"How do you know all this?" Penelope asked, highly intrigued. "Are you some fashion goddess?"

You felt yourself fully smile, a small chuckle escaping your lips. "I've just always been really good with color-analysis, I guess." It wasn't a lie, color analysis went into profiling, and it came with growing up rich as fu-

"What are you going to wear?" Emily curiously asked, setting her hand in her head.

"I have a few ideas." You nonchalantly replied. "I think I have some dresses at home that will work."

Leading up to the gala, you found yourself feeling anxious anytime someone brought it up, which was all the time. Yes, you knew it was excitement, but it made you nervous to rationalize whether your friends would hate your or not after this. You tried to play it cool, nodding along to the conversations, but one comment really bothered you.

"God, I cannot wait to eye all those rich girls," Derek dreamily sighed, thinking about how much flirting he was going to participate in. "I hear the aristocrat-girls know how to push your buttons."

You knew Derek didn't mean it to be insulting, he was just joking, but it caused you feel a pang in your heart.

As the others continued to talk, you felt eyes boring holes into your body. It was Spencer, probably your closest friend on the team, and the guy you were hopelessly in love with. You'd never admitted it to anyone, the fear of rejection buried deep in your bones. You didn't want to lose him as a friend above anything else.

"Hey," Spencer softly whispered, taking in the look that had settled on your face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Spence." You nodded, allowing yourself to give him a sweet smile, the one that he knew was reserved for him and him only.

Spencer gave you a suspicious look. "You know Derek didn't mean it like that," He offered, reaching out to squeeze your arm.

"I know," you nodded. "Really, Spence. I'm okay."

The loss of your usual glimmer in your eyes had vanished before Spencer's eyes. He knew you better than that. Something was definitely up.

Even if he was your best friend, he found it hard to gather a good read on you sometimes. No one had ever been to your apartment, knew where you lived, met any of your family, absolutely nothing personal. You went to everyone else's places, met their families, it made Spencer's brain wrap around itself trying to figure you out. You were so open with him, yet so closed off at the same time. It was like you were hiding some deep, dark secret that you didn't want to hurt him. Nonetheless, he trusted your judgement, never prying too hard. He was too in love with you to even consider hurting you.

The night of the gala finally approached. You sat in front of your vanity, finishing up your hair and makeup. Reluctantly, you gave Rossi your address to come get you. He had hired out a limo to take the team to the gala.

As you walked outside, the cool chill of the air was a huge contrast to the heat inside, reminding you of how brutal Virginia autumn's could be. As you opened the door, you let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was just Rossi.

"I had a feeling you didn't want anyone to know where you lived," He remarked, a knowing look on his face. "From one to another, I know when someone has expensive taste. You, my dear, struck me as an aristocrat from day one."

"Does anyone else know?" You asked softly, biting your lip.

Rossi let out a huff of air, "Of course not. But you should tell them, preferably tonight."

"What if they think differently of me?" Your voice felt small, and you noticed the way Rossi looked at you with comfort. It was obvious that this was an unusual way to see you, but deep down, you were a sensitive, caring soul who played the part of the cold, badass agent too well.

"I can assure you, they won't." Rossi squeezed your hand for a moment, allowing you to buckle yourself in.

One by one, the team began arriving. They all looked amazing, of course, but the one that stuck out to you was Spencer in his classic black and white tux. Of course, his eyes couldn’t leave you, either. Mentally, you made a note of this eye-checking out, or eye-fucking, as Derek so gracefully called it.

Penelope was the last to arrive, and she gasped when she saw you. “That’s Prada!” She pointed, her mouth agape.

“My mom gifted it to me on my twenty-first birthday,” You explained, feeling relief when the team played it off as a very generous gift.

The gala was gorgeous, white, gold, and black filling your eyes. Of course, you’d definitely seen better, but it was your first gala in a few years. It was refreshing to see. The team, on the other hand, looked amazed at it all.

“This is the most amazingly spectacular thing I’ll ever witness in my life.” Penelope gaped.

“It really is gorgeous,” JJ nodded in agreement.

Even Hotch was staring wide eyed at the hall. “Hey,” Derek asked. “Why do you not look at all surprised or even any other feeling besides neutral at this? That cold?” Derek teased, unknowing of your true feelings.

Before you could answer, you heard a gasp from behind you. Your name was emphasized. You turned around to see a woman, her early forties, and the worst fucking haircut— Maggie Lowdry.

“My dear! It’s been far too long since you’ve been to a gala. Had us all worried sick you’d vanished, or far worse.” Maggie gave you an elegant hug that you reciprocated.

“I’ve been very busy with work,” You replied with a wide smile. “Maggie, this is my team. My team also includes Agent David Rossi.”

Maggie went wide eyed, “David Rossi! What are the odds Miss Heiress and my favorite author know each other, let alone are co-workers!”

You cringed at her words, sucking in a breath. Rossi chuckled, responding for you. “Not that low, for the area. Please, let me grab you a refreshment.”

Rossi gave you a knowing look, guiding Maggie away. Closing your eyes, you slowly turned around. “Look-”

“You’re rich?” Emily asked, interrupting you.

“Yes, but-”

“For how long?” Derek interjected.

“My whole life, I guess. It’s-”

“What do your parents do?” JJ inquired.

“They both own their own finance companies. This isn’t-”

Spencer’s words cut the deepest, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Covering your mouth, you shook your head, refusing to let tears well to the surface. The look on your face surprised the team. They hadn’t expected you to be so touchy about this.

“I’m sorry, I need air.” You quickly walked away and back outside to catch your breath.

“She’s sensitive,” Hotch began to profile you meticulously. “She puts on a cold front to trick us into thinking she’s someone completely different. In reality, we know she isn’t cold from how often she jokes or laughs and smiles. We know she’s hiding something, maybe a bad past. If we looked closer, we would have realized that this is why she never let us come over, or hardly went shopping with the girls.” Hotch paused for a moment, “She’s scared we’ll treat her differently.”

Emily frowns at his words, "We would never treat her differently because of her background."

"Or because she's rich," JJ added.

Hotch shook his head, "We're all lower-to-middle class. Maybe she thought we would resent her, or potentially believe we assume her parents bought her everything."

"A common stereotype for children of aristocrats is imposter syndrome," Spencer began. "Is that what.. is.."

"Reid, maybe you should go check on her." Derek insisted. "You're her favorite, anyway."

Biting his tongue at Derek's words, Spencer silently agreed as he followed in your previous footsteps. When he exited the building, he saw you sitting on the stone steps, staring into the city.

Spencer softly spoke your name, causing you to look up at him. No matter how hard you tried, Spencer noticed the redness in your eyes. "Can I sit?" Spencer softly asked, gesturing beside you. When you didn't respond, Spencer took that as an opening. He slowly sat next to you, his eyes never once leaving you. "We aren't mad at you."

"Do you think any differently of me?" Your voice was softer than Spencer ever thought he'd heard it before. You'd been with the buero for eight months, twenty six days, and thirteen hours. Even if he knew you well enough, he knew you'd done a damn good job of keeping your own secret.

"Yes," Spencer honestly answered, causing you to look at him wide-eyed as he continued. "I think you're much more sensitive and sweet than you let on to be. Sometimes, we could see the real you if we looked hard enough." You felt your heart beat die down at his words. "I think you're scared that we won't like you anymore because, what, you're rich?"

Your brows furrowed, "Is that not it?"

"Of course not," Spencer chuckled, grabbing your soft, manicured hands. "It doesn't matter if you're the President or anything less than,"

"I thought you guys would hate me," You chuckled at yourself, taking in Spencer's words. You'd been silly this whole time.

Spencer gave you a sympathetic look, "How could we ever hate you?" His thumbs rubbed the top of your hands, just in front of your knuckles. "Plus, I think we all already thought you came from a little money, that or you had incredible debt."

You laughed at his words, causing Spencer to smile brightly. "Maybe some things gave it away."

"Maybe," Spencer warmly agreed, the smile on your face making his heart soar. "Honestly, I know I only feel much better about you,"

"Yeah?" You breathed out.

"Yeah," Spencer confirmed with a nod. "I feel like I'm really starting to understand you. I really think I'm gonna love this you." He paused, taking a deep, supporting breath in. "But, I already do, so maybe that means it'll only get stronger."

Your breath hitched in your throat as your lips slightly parted in surprise. "You- You love me?"

Spencer awkwardly smiled, "Yeah, I love you."

"I love you, too." You admitted, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "I have since, like, they day I met you."

"I fell in love with you two months and three days after I met you." Spencer replied. He took note of your confused face and decided to help clear up what he meant. "Remember that case where you nearly got set on fire to grab one of the Hutchenson kids from their house fire?"

The memory came back to you in an instant, "That's when you fell in love with me? When I was coughing and covered in ash?"

"When you risked your life to save a child, even after the fact sending her to the first ambulance that arrived despite the fact that you couldn't breathe." Spencer corrected as you shook your head.

"I cannot believe that's when you fell in love with me." You admitted with a small laugh.

Spencer gave you his dorky half-smile, "If it helps, I'm falling in love with you all over again right now." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ears, "So you get a do-over."

After a moment of the two of you just simply existing together, relishing in the presence of your love, you decided it was time to go back inside. "We need to go back inside soon. Or, I do. My presence is expected."

"Of course, I can't hog you all to myself, can I?" Spencer teased as he helped you stand up.

"You can have me all to yourself anytime there isn't a gala," Spencer's cheeks grew red at your words as you internally cheered. "Plus, now I have a boyfriend to introduce?"

Spencer nodded quickly, "Yes, you do."

"Good," You smiled, slowly turning around to walk back inside. "I hope you know how to dance too, by the way. The waltz is common at these types of galas."

"Wait, what? No, no, I can't dance- hey, wait up!"

#doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #bau team #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

756 notes · View notes

sakuralovespossums · 4 months ago

Text

Human Frylock x GN Reader

Honestly, you getting with Frylock makes the most sense

He’s objectively the most attractive, smart, charming, good with kids, you get it

But just cuz he’s the most humble, doesn’t mean he isn’t equally insane

There was a whole episode where he went full yandere and implanted his brain in the corpse of his crush’s dead boyfriend

BUT HE’S STILL A KEEPER!!!!

Calls you “babe” or “hon” often

Always has an arm around your waist when going out

It’s also a subtle way of showing people your his when someone tries to hit on you. He doesn’t get aggressive or anything but his usual frown does deepen and his tone gets more blunt

If the harasser still doesn’t take the hint and really gets on his nerves, he’ll use one of his inventions to brutally mutilate them then act like nothing happened

Other than that, he’s still generally a pretty chill guy and is the best boyfriend

Always plans ahead for alot of things like dates, trips, grocery shopping, special events (my ADHD ass is so thankful)

For those who deal with periods, he even keeps track of your cycle for you and buys all the things you need like pills, snacks, blankets, etc.

His deep voice is so soothing and he takes full advantage of it lol

One time you saw him without his goatee and you swore for a millisecond he was someone else. It’s just so weird seeing him with a bald face

Shake is an annoying pest who’s always following you around and tries to convince you to ditch Frylock and get with him instead

Carl just thinks your a weirdo for wanting to date one of his weirdo neighbors

There are days where you just walk into your bf’s room and plop your chin on his shoulder as he types away on his computer. No words. Just silence and occasional kisses

He def wears cologne

The only guy to ever make braces look hot

It would be cute if you guys met at one of those prestigious universities like Harvard or Yale. Either you bumped into each other in the same dorm/class building or were assigned to work on a project together. You guys slowly bonded and became friends, to eventually something more

You help him put in his yellow hair dye every few weeks, but you also really like seeing his natural hair color

One time you put in the wrong hair dye by accident and Frylock was left with an ugly colored hair for weeks. You desperately tried to hold back your laughter at seeing how moody he was with messed up hair. Shake wouldn’t stop making fun of him for days

You can’t help but feel a bit bad for him as he has to deal with his chaotic roommates (mostly Shake) all the time, so you help him however you can

Cooking and bringing him food, dragging him out of the house to your place or somewhere fun, buying new science supplies or books with him

He used to go shop for those by himself, but now can’t think of doing it without you since you make it way more fun

He never quite realized how lonely he was until you came along

He teases you about wearing his red sweaters all the time like it’s yours now and sometimes chases you around the house to “get it back”

Frylock is noticeably in a better mood when he’s with you. He doesn’t smile but has an upturned smirk instead of his typical frown and always plays along with whatever joke you tell him. That’s how much in sync you guys are

Everyone sees you two as Meatwad’s parents (his teachers, the neighbors, hell even Carl and Shake)

It doesn’t help that you often go with Frylock to Meatwad’s student/teacher conferences

Or play with/babysit him when your bf’s too busy

Or how you and Frylock always hold Meatwad’s hands when walking to the park

Or come to Frylock’s aid in lecturing him why he’s still listening to MC pee pants when his bed time was an hour ago and………..

Ok maybe you are his parents

NSFW stuff

I just see him as a top. He likes being the one to lead but will let you take the reigns if you want

Again, he uses his voice to his advantage ;)

He likes using toys depending on the mood

I feel like he would tell you he doesn’t mind if you sometimes wanna go solo with your toys (nothing wrong with sexual independence) but secretly grumbles and is jealous lol

Shake has def walked in more than once just to annoy you two and ask if he can join

*slams the door in his face*

He has more length than girth

Frylock has a pretty well toned build, which really doesn’t help make you any less desperate for him

And maybe also make you feel a bit self conscious of your own body. He tells you he finds you gorgeous just the way you are

You love how his goatee scratches your skin, lips, thighs, everywhere as he kisses you all over

Is so amazing at aftercare. Always checking if he didn’t go too hard on you, gets you a towel, water, snacks, anything you need

#aqua teen hunger force #athf frylock #frylock #frylock x reader #human frylock #adult swim

66 notes · View notes

pollyna · 2 years ago

Text

He is drinking his third shot when he realises that fuck it, if he could graduate from Harvard, becoming a doctor and a fucking excellent pilot, the 1% of the 1%, he could surley master the courage to go and talk with Admiral Kazansky. He has to talk with the man, not ask him for a date because he isn't Fritz. Frizt could go there and ask the man without having half of the alcohol Harvard has in his body now. He's not drunk, he swear. He just need a little liquid courage. Oh honey, you can go and talk to the man, he isn't going to eat you Penny says, filling his glass one more time. This is the last one of the night, so you go there before Mav comes around and swips him out before everyone's eyes. Okay, okay he can do it. Thanks Penny he says drinking until the last drop of his vodka.

He's half way the bar when Captain Mitchell slides on the booth, just on the right side of the Admiral and kisses him. Nope, so not gonna happen to night, sorry, he tried at least? he tries to convince himself when a hand drags him back towards the booth. So Harvard, my dear husband is asking himself when you would have find the courage to come and talk to him or if he had to make the first move to come to you. Now kid, you have to now that Iceman does the first move only with me or when he wants to get someone to disappear Mav says with a conspiratorial look at his husband so what about you sit your ass down son? I'd hate to loose another pilot so soon.

Harvard has to be very pale because another pilot? Oh god, he's going to die. Did Admiral Kazansky really- oh for chrissake Pete, let the man sit and have another drink before he has a heart attack. And then Harvard is sitting down without realising because Maverick is sneaky and he should have known better than to just trust the man. There's a beer already in front of himself and so, lieutenant what was all that fret? If it wasn't for the uniform, and that I hand picked you, I would have asked Penny to escort you out or that you were trying to flirt with me. the Adrmial says after a long minute of silence and Harvard is really trying to not choke on his own beer. It's-i'm not Fitz sir, I was trying to find the moment to come here and talk to you, sir. Everyone else did it and I didn't like to be left out of the loop, sir.

Uhuh, you're one of the kids I haven't seen around the house yet. But here you're, you can speak and introduce yourself the man is positively trying not to laugh and Captain Mitchell is stuffing is mouth of peanuts because he wants to be serious. He's going to say something, he really is, because his mouth is opening and closing and the beer bottle is slowly but steadley becoming lighter and still, not a single sentence is out.

Admiral Kazansky is looking at him, Captain Mitchell is looking at him, hell Penny is looking at him behind the bar but still, silence.

Did Mav ever told you what he did to piss Admiral Cane that much? the Admiral asks, looking back at his husband who's already trying to escape the story behind the question. But no sir, he didn't and so it begins.

Penny has to send them all out because she has to close the bar but the Admiral, call me Iceman, is still going on and on about this or that thing that Mav did or sharing randomly old gossip about other Admirals and Harvard's jaw is aching for how much he's laughin. It's 3 am and he has to go to sleep because in four hours they are going to have another loop to do and he needs to sleep but he really doesn't want to leave them. Now he gets why everyone is always around their house and why Halo decided to work with this particular Admiral years ago.

Do you prefer waffles or pancake Lieutenant? the Admiral asks, after exchanging their goodbyes.

Pancakes with a side of fruit salad, sir he answers, confused by the question. The last person who was interested in his breakfast habits was Yale and that's a particular story that involves a burn pan he doesn't want to think about right now. As it, it happend just two mornings ago and most of their clothes are still smelling like smoke.

Another on your side than, Mav. We will be expecting you on Sunday morning, it's going to be a brunch, all the squadron and the hopes are less alcohol in the mimosas than last time the Admiral announces before walking away, a half asleep Maverick on his side and Penny looking at them by her car.

Sunday morning. Perfect. Now he just has to find the strength to wake up at seven for the rest of the week. Easy peasy. And he can finally tell Fitz he talked to the man and take Yale with him so maybe, maybe, is boyfriend is going to learn how to cook once and for all.

#brigham harvard lennox #tom iceman kazansky #how to adopt young adults 101 (icemav edition)#penny benjamin #billy fitz avalone (mentioned)#harvard tooke the melodrama from fitz and decided to make it his and then some #lil snap on how Halo met Iceman when he was a newly promoted three stars Admiral #hint harvard x yale #icemav #top gun: maverick

110 notes · View notes

fleabagflu · 2 years ago

Text

Jealously, Jealously

pairing(s): jake seresin x plus!sized reader x bradley bradshaw; dagger squad, platonic!

synopsis: as a joke, your financé’s like to flirt with you on the nights you bartender at your mom’s bar. your father, maverick, with the rest of the TOPGUN family; all have become annoyed which only encourages you all further. tonight, however, is a different story when your family notices two boys who can’t take the hint to leave you alone. tonight, your boys flirt with you out of jealously and possessiveness.

warning(s): unwanted flirting from a stranger, jakebradley being guard dogs and whores, sexual innuendos, poly, happy/fluffy ending, minor angst, cursing!

word count: 1411!

authors note: ok so this idea came to me in a brillant moment as i was trying to fall asleep the other night. i finally found time to write it and i’m actually pretty happy with it! also, side note, the reader is the older daughter of pete & penny, which also means that maverick and penny with both be a little bit more parental and mad when the unwanted flirting is directed towards their daughter!

this gif is not mine and was found on another imagine. if someone knows the creator please let me know so i can give them proper credit!

much love babies! leni <3

wattpad! pinterest! spotify!

jupiter by matt maltese!

Tonight had begun the same as always.

You were stationed behind the bar with a damp blue rag tossed over your clothed shoulder. Your mother, Penny, had been curled up next to your dad over in the back; watching the ongoing pool match between the two teams. It was the same as every night, Jake, Bradley, and Coyote VS Bob, Phoenix, and Payback. Fanboy, Omaha, Fritz, Harvard, and Yale had decided to be at tables; ice beers staining the bar tops below.

Of course the boys had been engrossed in their game, but at the sight of you, Jake ‘accidentally’ smacked Bradley and both ended up directing their eyes to you. You were a natural at talking to people. Smiles given as customers tucked bills underneath of glasses.

“Can’t you spent five minutes without eyefucking her?”

Jake grinned at Natasha’s deadpan, aiming the pool cue at his target. Bradley took a different approach and rolled his eyes. Pete grimaced, taking a drink of his beer before placing a quick kiss on Penny’s forehead.

“Please don’t talk about them eyefucking my daughter.”

The group laughed, chuckles that echoed over the music coming from the jukebox. Your eyes found their in a moment. The tingle that ran up your spine had you grinning, a permanent scrunch settling between your eyes.

Penny slapped his chest. “You know they are getting married! Besides, I think it’s cute!”

Jake and Bradley raised their beers. A small clink followed. The boys watched as Bob sunk the eight ball, sighing to themselves. They hated fucking losing.

As a rematch began, all of their eyes had been drawn to the green table. Deciding against leaving the crowded bar to the two boys on the other end, you moved down, taking the busiest spot. In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have.

“Hi sweetheart.”

Your eyebrow quirked up, the grin you wore immediately leaving. The man in front of you was average height and of average build. He was not one of your boys.

“Awe come on. Don’t pout baby.”

Another boy settled on his side. Both stood together, seemingly matching polos. A group of people you only assumed were their friends stood behind, all wearing grins and cologne. You wanted to puke.

You never wanted to cause trouble. Deciding to avoid drama, you simply ask the question that has fallen from your lips a million times. “What can I get you?”

The boy on the left had a predatory smile. You felt uneasy.

“How about you in the back?”

Your mouth gaped open like a fish. You unconsciously pulled down the sweatshirt that covered your thighs, desperately trying to shield your bare legs.

“Lost for words baby?”

That seemed to snap you out of your stupor. You brought up your hand, the big dimond reflecting the fluorescents. Their eyes dropped down to it but they didn’t seem to take the hint.

Right-boy simply leaned on the bar. You could smell weed and vodka on his breath. You gagged.

“Come on, let me treat you right.”

This time, you laughed. His eyebrows furrowed and he pulled back. You stared back at him, erupting in a fit of laughter again. There was no way in hell.

Devon, Penny’s oldest bartender, had escorted himself towards your parents. He had overheard the conversation, and knowing you wouldn’t say anything, decided to take matters into his own hands. He approached from the side, holding three more beers in his hands.

“These two guys are harassing Y/N.”

Jake shot up at the statement, Bradley squeezing his beer till his knuckles turned white. Heads swiveled in your direction, watching as you forcefully slammed your ring-clad hand down and cursing falling from your lips. Maverick jumped up, Penny not far behind, Jake, Bradley, and the rest of the group slowly making their way over to you. You were their girl, their daughter, their family. All of them wanted to protect you.

You had been so engrossed in trying not to freak out, you didn’t notice the group slowly making their way towards you. Today, they had dressed in half casuals, all of them in their khaki pants but civilian shirts. They blended right in with the crowd.

“Come on, I can make you feel so good.”

You wanted to throw an insult at left-boy but were interrupted by your father intervening.

“Don’t ever fucking say that again.”

Penny’s hands were drawn in fists while both Jake and Bradley were attempting to not take the two down. They had stood behind your father, flanking his sides while your mother was pressed into your father’s side. The rest of TOPGUN stood their ground behind. Without saying a word, Phoenix, Fanboy, and Payback came around from the other side. Essentially, they blocked them in.

Not taking the point, right-boy looked him up and down. Scoffing, he yanked his shoulder from the mans tight grip. “Shut up. We were just talking,” his head turned towards you, “weren’t we sweetheart.”

Jake saw red.

Pete backed off, knowing Jake and Bradley could handle it. The blonde man approached slowly, an anger burning in his eyes that had you warm to your core. You suddenly exhaled the breathe you held. I’m ok.

His face was deathly calm as he spoke. “Don’t you ever, ever, talk to her again.”

If the boys were nervous, they didn’t show it. Jake didn’t back up, simply staring down at the polo’s they wore. Deciding against saying anything but also wanting to convey so much, you settled for something simple.

Without uttering one word, you bent down and plucked Jake’s hat from it’s spot below the bar. Normally, when it came time for the “final act,” Jake would sneak past the bar and place his hat over your hair, claiming you. Bradley has his own way, wrapping his Hawaiian shirt over your shoulders. This time, all you did was put the cowboy hat on the bar, smirking widely at the strangers’ shocked faces.

Jake, with what came second nature, grabbed the cowboy hat and the boys watched as you leaned across the bar so he could place it on you. Your expression was love-struck, cheeks cherry red, and a sweet smile on your lips. Jake was calm, Bradley quickly taking off his Hawaiian shirt and throwing it towards you. You slipped into it easily. You grinned at the shocked boys.

Before anyone could say anything, a boy from the back asked, “Both?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, holding out your hands for Jake and Bradley to grab. They immediately did, slipping their hands into yours. “You should leave now.”

Left boy shook his head. “Your such a fucking tease. Such a brat.”

To be fair, you knew what was coming. Really, everyone knew what was coming.

No one flinched as Jake pounced on him, Bradley holding the other guy back. Maverick threw a punch for fun one and Penny and Phoenix threw open the front doors. The bar chanted overboard, Jake and Coyote yanking up left-boy while Bradley and Payback followed with the second. Bob, Fanboy, Yale, and Harvard shooed the others out behind. You didn’t know what happened outside, but a smile broke out on your face anyway. You knew deep down, you would always be protected.

Hours later, Jake and Bradley had you squished between them on your couch.

Your dogs were on the L-section, all of your boys not letting you out of their sight. Expedition Unknown had been playing on a tv. Your smile was wide, head on Jake’s lap as your legs were thrown over Bradley’s. They both kept themselves content, grounding themselves at the feeling of you.

“You know we love you right?”

You hummed back. Eyes fluttering closed as a kiss was gently placed on your calf.

Bradley added onto Jake’s earlier statement. “We would never let anything happen to you.”

You left Jake’s lap momentarily and ignored his protests.

“Loves, I know.” Smiles crossed their lips. “I always will chosen you.”

You resumed your previous postion. You missed the way their eyes met, and a conformation of their love passed through. They would die without you. You were their glue. They would do anything for you. And as scary as it sounded, Jake and Bradley couldn’t be more ready.

For the rest of the night, your boys watched as you emersed yourself in Expedition Unknown; making Blue, Crunch, and Shaggy (your dogs) join you; and eventually falling asleep in the comfort of your boys arms.

extra notes!

thanks for reading loves! i hope you enjoyed!

#jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #glen powell #jake seresin x plus!sized reader x bradley bradshaw #plus!sized reader #top gun maverick #ok this was cute #THE ENDING OK

235 notes · View notes

dem-obscure-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Try

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Warren has been through hell and then some, but will meeting his soulmate turn that around?

Note: That’s right, it’s ya girl, back on my BS. I watched Apocalypse again and BIG SURPRISE, I’m in love with Warren and Kurt all over again. Still hyperfixating on Pietro also, so…expect more fics for him as well. Anyway, I’m a ho for soulmate aus and I haven’t written one for birb boi in literal years, so here ya go.

Reader is: Gender Neutral

Warnings: swears, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.8k

Warren knew one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: he didn’t deserve a soulmate. He didn’t. There was no question in his mind. Anyone who was destined to end up with his winged, alcoholic ass had been fucked over by the universe. No one deserved to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives. And yet, these thoughts didn’t seem to erase the words written on his forearm:

Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.

Professor. He scoffed. He was never going to college. If his parents had gotten their way, their son “cured” of his wings, he would have ended up at Harvard or Yale or somewhere similar. But it was far too late for that. Sitting in a cage in the back room of an illegal underground mutant fighting club in Berlin…it was far too late for that. He’d probably die before he met his soulmate anyway, rendering the prophecy on his wrist—and theirs, for that matter—useless. A waste of space.

That was all he was anyway.

He spiraled. His dependence on vodka got worse. The fights got harder. He wasn’t making it out unscathed anymore, winding up with burns and scrapes and cuts, depending on what kind of mutant he was up against. One night, one of his cuts had gotten dangerously close to the writing on his wrist. He stared at it for a long time, tears burning his eyeballs until they escaped and dripped down his cheeks, angry and hot.

He hated it, but even after everything, he still had hope. He still had hope that things would get better; that he could be better, even if it seemed impossible.

And then it got…worse.

Apocalypse had come, turned his wings to metal, tuned into his anger, his rage at the world, turned him into a monster, complete with knives for feathers and winding tattoos framing his face. He wished he could blame it on mind control or something, but Apocalypse hadn’t brainwashed him, only used his anger against him. Turned him into a weapon.

And then everything went black.

When he woke up after the battle, he was in an unfamiliar room, large and white and sterile; it smelled like hand sanitizer. He heard the steady beeping of a heart monitor and when he sat up, he noticed how sore he was. His whole body hurt. His head spun. But he was alive. And when he looked down at his tattoo, the words were still there. Wherever his soulmate was, they were fine. His stupidity in joining Apocalypse hadn’t caused anything to happen to them.

For the first time in what felt like years, he breathed.

“You’re awake.” A voice said as a tall man with brown hair entered his room. “I’ll let the Professor know.”

“Where…” his deep voice rasped and the man pointed to a glass of water sitting on the table adjacent to the cot he was situated in. He picked it up and took a few long, greedy sips, not realizing just how thirsty he was until the cool drink hit his tongue. “Where am I? What is this place?”

“This is the infirmary at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.” The man told him, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You’re safe here.”

Warren nodded hesitantly, but didn’t say anything else. Safe. The word was almost a myth to him at this point. But at least he felt like he could rest for a little while.

***

It had been a few weeks since Apocalypse and his horsemen had almost ended the world. Erik had decided to stick around, and two of the younger horsemen, Storm and “the Angel of Death,” respectively, had been absorbed into the school’s student body. You didn’t know the Angel’s name. No one really talked to him, not even Ororo, Storm, who had been quickly adopted by your friend group.

Supposedly, Peter had tried to talk to the Angel guy, but he didn’t say anything to him. Ororo theorized he probably felt guilty about the whole thing. She did. But you all knew she didn’t know what Apocalypse was really trying to do. He probably hadn’t either, but that didn’t seem to keep the grim expression off of his face.

It was on a nice, sunny day that Xavier called you into his office, and you went down without complaint, knocking on the door a few times before he called you inside. You sat in the chair across from his desk.

“Hi, Professor. What’s going on?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. Just the empath and healer I wanted to see.” He smiled brightly. “(Y/N), if you don’t mind it too terribly, I have a small job for you.”

“Of course! What do you need?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen our newest pupil, Warren, around.”

You thought for a moment. “The, uh, guy with the wings? The big metal ones?”

“Precisely.” He nodded. “Warren…he’s been having quite a hard time adjusting.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He came to me yesterday discussing…well, quite simply, he was wondering if any of our mutants here would be capable of…reverting him to his previous state. His wings, before Apocalypse, were made of feathers. They’ve been serving as quite a reminder to him and it’s been weighing pretty heavily on him, both literally and emotionally.”

“Yeah, I’ve, uh, caught his vibes from across campus.” You nodded. “It’s like there’s always a rain cloud hanging over his head.”

“Yes,” Xavier agreed. “It doesn’t have to be right away, but at your nearest convenience, if you see him around, would you talk to him? Tell him I sent you?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see what I can do.” You promised him.

As an empath and a healer, your first priority was helping others. And even if he was known to be a bit intimidating, you wanted to help him if you could.

So, you walked out of Xavier’s office, attended your final class of the day, and when it was over, you wandered out into the courtyard where, because of the nice weather, students were everywhere. And luckily for you, just as you suspected he might be, Warren was sitting under a tree, still sporting his leather jacket despite the warm weather.

You shielded your eyes from the sun and walked over towards him, your heart racing as you built up the courage to talk to him. So, you took a breath and said, “Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.”

He stared up at you for a long moment, his green eyes wide in shock. He took a breath, blinked a few times, glanced down at his wrist, and then back up at you. You could have sworn you saw tears beginning to form along his waterline, and you didn’t realize why until he said, “You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

You froze, your knees going weak. You glanced down at your bare forearm and read over the words he’d just said, exactly the way he’d just said them.

You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.

“Why are you sorry?” You whispered, lowering yourself onto the grass beside him, not trusting your legs to support your weight for much longer. Now you were the one with tears in your eyes. “Don’t be sorry.”

“You deserve so much more than me.” He insisted, his eyes locked on his boots, unwilling and unable to meet your gaze. “I can’t drag you into…this. Me.”

His emotions were heavy, a bleak blue and gray haze and you felt it radiate off of him in waves. His pain, his everything. And you felt it, deep within his chest. He thought you wouldn’t want him anyway.

“Warren…” You shook your head. “Why…Why would you think I don’t want you?”

He was shocked into silence for a few seconds, thinking over his words carefully, his jaw tense and hands shaking. “You’re a telepath?”

“Empath.” You corrected quietly. “And…a healer. Which is why Xavier sent me.”

“Oh. Right.” He swallowed thickly, nodding. “Did he…tell you why?”

“He did.” You smiled softly. “And I’m willing to try if you are.”

Finally, his eyes met yours and he could tell that you meant more than just the healing when you said it. The weak little voice in the back of his head was screaming for him to push you away like he pushed away everyone else, but looking into your eyes, a genuine and warm smile on your face, he just…couldn’t lose you.

He couldn’t lose anyone else.

***

Today was the day. Warren was sitting on a stool in the infirmary. Hank had run his vitals and the two of them were in the room waiting for you to come down after your class was over.

“(Y/N) is the one who saved you, you know.” Hank told Warren while he jotted down some notes.

“What?” Warren asked, snapping out of whatever daydream he had been caught up in. “What do you mean?”

“(Y/N) found you in the rubble. We didn’t think you would make it, but…they healed you. They insisted we bring you back here. Give you a chance.”

Warren was quiet for a long time, thinking about what that meant. Part of him wondered if (Y/N) had known back then that he was their soulmate, but he decided that would have been impossible with just their tattoos alone. Especially without context. They hadn’t known and yet, they’d still wanted the best for him.

“Didn’t know that.” Warren said, his voice soft and deep. He stared at the words on his wrist for a little longer, a hint of warmth swirling around in his stomach. Was this happiness? Was that what happiness felt like? He barely remembered anymore. But he knew there must have been a reason that when you walked through the door, his heart started beating a little bit faster.

“Sorry I’m so late. Professor Leaf kept us a little later than she was supposed to. Are you ready?” You asked taking off your backpack and setting it against the wall. As soon as you looked up at Warren, you felt the way his heart rate was increased and you didn’t miss the warmth swirled with the anxiousness. The anxiousness, you had expected. Even you didn’t know if you could pull off what you were going to attempt to do, but the warmth…it was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t worry about it.” He told you, shaking his head. Was he…was he smiling? It was a small smile, sure, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him smile before. It looked good on him. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Alright.” You nodded, walking over towards him. Underneath where he was situated on a stool, Hank had laid out some pads from the training room, you assumed, to catch his metal feathers if they fell out rather than transforming back to his normal…feather feathers. None of you really knew how this would unfold. “Again, I’m not sure this will work. I don’t want to get your hopes up in case it doesn’t.”

“I’m not expecting it to.” Warren assured you, but it wasn’t in a rude way. “If it does, I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Cross my heart.” What he didn’t say was: You could never disappoint me. Not even if you tried.

“Okay.” You nodded, taking a few steps closer until you were standing right in front of him. He looked up at you and for the first time, you didn’t feel any negative emotions from him. Only anticipation and that lingering warmth. “Here goes nothing.”

You focused on the warmth in your own chest, the tingling yellow healing power that constantly swirled around your heart, and you forced it into your palms. You reached forward for his hands and he took the hint, his larger hands wrapping around yours.

Immediately, he gasped at the sensation, warm tingles running up his arms, down his spine. It stopped in the center of his back, right where his wings intersected with his body. At first, he didn’t feel anything. And then, he felt everything. The pleasant warmth flooded his metal wings, and one by one, the knife-like feathers fell out, each one landing with a thud against the mat situated underneath him.

Hank’s pencil jotted against his notebook as he took notes. He knew you were powerful, but he’d had no idea you were capable of something like this.

Neither had you.

Once the metal wings were gone, Warren felt a new sensation: another pair of wings, this one soft and familiar, slowly emerging from him. Part of him expected the process to be painful, like the one Apocalypse had forced upon him was, but it wasn’t. Warren chuckled to himself. Of course you would never hurt him. Not even unintentionally.

After a few minutes, the feathery wings had fully emerged, stretched out to his full former wingspan and he stared up at you in awe. You stopped your flow of power to him, but he held onto your hands, squeezing them to keep them in his grasp.

He looked back at his new wings, flexed them and moved them. They felt familiar, like they had always belonged to him.

“Thank you.” He said, giving your hands another squeeze, the warmth in his chest brighter and bolder than it had been before. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” You told him, squeezing his hands right back in a way that caused his heart to lurch. “I’m glad I could help.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you mind if I keep some of these for research?” Hank asked.

“Keep all of them, if you want. I don’t want them.” Warren told him, standing up from his stool, his hands still in yours. “So, um…do you want to go grab dinner or something?”

“Sure.” You nodded, smiling up at him. “See you later, Hank.”

“Bye, guys, have a nice night.” Hank said as you and Warren walked out of his lab. He couldn’t help but notice the way one of your hands remained in one of his as the two of you left.

***

Later that night, after dinner and after you and Warren had split for the evening, you were walking back to your room from Jean and Jubilee’s and you found Warren, lingering in his doorway, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His eyes widened when he spotted you and he held up a finger, indicating you should wait for him, so you did while he went into his bathroom and rinsed out his mouth, returning a few moments later.

“Hey.” He said, the word casual as it fell from his pink lips.

“Hey yourself.” You chuckled, feeling ridiculously underdressed in your pajamas. But then again, he was wearing his pajamas, too, a large black Metallica shirt and a pair of plaid pants.

“How…how are you? Feeling?” He stumbled over his words, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. You felt a wave of nervousness rush through him. “Hank said sometimes you get tired after, uh, bigger healing jobs?”

“I’m fine.” You nodded. “For whatever reason, I never get tired when I’m healing you.” You chuckled, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Well…I think I know why…”

“Heh, yeah.” He nodded, mulling over his next words very carefully. “Did you, um…I don’t know how to ask this. Did you mean what you said about…trying? About us trying…this. Trying us.”

“Of course I did.” You nodded and took a few steps closer to him. “You’re my soulmate.” You reached for his hand and he gave it to you, letting you play with his fingers. You felt the way his heart fluttered when you did. “Of course I want to try.”

“I’m broken.” He told you. “I’ve never done this before. I’m…I’m a lot, and I know that.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m a healer, huh?” You tilted your head. “And if we’re being honest, I’ve never done this before either. So how about we teach each other? Learn together?”

He smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

You let go of his hand and instead took the last few steps between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his torso. He froze for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. It had been…a long time since anyone had hugged him. But after a few moments, his arms got the hint and wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. He rested his head atop yours and exhaled a long, long breath. And for the first time since you’d met him, you felt a wave of peace wash over him, encasing him entirely as his wings gently cocooned you in their warmth.

You felt his lips brush against your temple, pressing a soft kiss there. You looked up at him and his eyes met yours before fluttering shut as he leaned in to press his lips to yours.

#warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington imagine #angel #xmen angel #angel x reader #angel imagine #archangel x reader #archangel imagine #xmen imagine #marvel imagine

516 notes · View notes

marvelmymarvel · 6 years ago

Text

When I Was Older...

Part 1/3

Captain!Intelligence!Lewis Nixon x Captain!Intelligence!Reader

Synopsis: Working side by side with the man you secretly love but openly hate is hard work. He tells you that your plans aren't smart, but he knows deep down that they are indeed lifesavers. But when he doesn't take your word and it winds up in 100 dead men, you two have an explosive fight, and words are said. Some were hurtful... Some were what you wanted to hear all along.

Trigger Warning: Slight Depression (More like themes, deep sadness is more accurate), arguing, Lew is an ass.

A/N: Okay listen lol. I know I’m obsessed with doing this to myself and musical imagines... So HERE I AM. Another one for you... And wow it's angst?? Who would have guessed?! (All of my followers blink slowly and nod at yet another Angsty piece of work “She’s at it again”). I have my 10 fics ready for the week so I hope you’re excited!! I am excited to give you this beautiful piece until tomorrow’s first fic at 3pm when Lipton's Wounded story is released. Kisses my loves.

Continue On: Part 2

Song: When I Was Older by Billie Eilish (Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0I4fD49Gbck) Lyrics are italicized, bolded, and in (parenthesis) : (Words).

(When I was older, I was a sailor on an open sea). Being an intelligence officer was something you aspired to be ever since you were a little girl, and you were the best one that the 506th had. You were brilliant, and every man in the 506th made you feel as such. Respecting you as if their life rested in your hands, which it very well did. Lew didn't like that though. “No Lew... They need to go this way, the enemy will expect them her-” “Y/n” He snarled out, cutting you off and stopping you in your tracks. “My plan will work... I don't need you telling me it won't” he spit out angrily towards you, making you sigh out furiously as you gripped onto the table. (But now I’m underwater and my skin is paler). But Lew... Lew made you feel inadequate. Like you weren't smart enough to even mention something that could be life-saving. You shut down instead of speaking up once more. (Than it should ever be). You always felt like an idiot around him, but you never let it affect you... Until now. When asked by Sink if the plan you two just planned was adequate, you nodded instead of telling him that your gut told you wrong. Men were going to die. (Mhm....). You thrashed around in your bed that night. Thinking about all the men that will lose their lives, just because you couldn't stand up for yourself and push for them to see this mistake. Just because you loved Lewis Nixon.

You stood above on the hill, watching as the men fought. (I'm on my back again). You inhaled shakily as you took a drag of your cigarette, your heart was racing faster than ever before... You couldn't help them now. (Dreaming of a time and place, where you and I remain the best of friends). You looked at Lew who was slightly in front of you, watching the men through his binoculars. You thought of how you and Lewis were best friends before you reached his rank with ease. You weren't from Yale. You weren't even from Harvard. You were just you. A brilliant mind that could save thousands... And yet, (Even after all this end), Lew somehow made you feel inadequate. Even after the war ended and the battles were won, you two would never, ever be as close as you used to be. (Can we pretend?). Exhaling shakily, you stepped forward, seeing the enemy tanks approaching. (I’m on my...). Just like you planned. (I’m on my back again). “I fucking told you Lewis” You snarled lowly as you stood next to him as he watched Dog company fly out of the trees. “WHO GAVE THEM THAT ORDER” Strayer screamed and you just rolled your eyes. Living... Living gave them that order to run. (It’s seeming more and more like all we ever do is see how far it bends). The tanks continued forward. All of those men. They would have been saved if he would have just listened. (Before it breaks in half and then). Now they were running for their lives. But would Lew listen to you next time? (We bend it back again). He glared at you before moving towards Strayer. Of course not. Almost 100 men died that day. All thanks to you. All thanks to him.

(Guess I got caught in the middle of it). You hated him, yet you loved him. He made you feel so inadequate and normally, you would argue and fight. (Yes, I’ve been taught, got a little of it in my blood, in my blood). It was in your blood to fight your way to the top. You were raised to stand up for yourself. You wanted something? Fight. For. It. And yet, you failed your father. All for a man, who you loved. All for a man, who hated you. (Memories burn like a forest fire). Thoughts of him and you laughing while drinking at the bar back in Aldbourne burned into your body as you walked to your bedroom. (Heavy rain turns any funeral pyre to mud). Your tears were falling down your cheeks as you felt the loss of those men. (In the flood). You got into the room and slammed the door close, before sliding down it. Covering your mouth to suffocate the sob that was rising in your throat, you felt the guilt. (When I was older). You never wanted this as a little girl. You dreamed of saving lives. Not taking them. (I was a sailor). You cried out as you leaned forward in the dark, sobbing harder and harder with each passing second. You never wanted to be this. (But now I’m underwater). You felt like you were drowning like you couldn't break the surface and breathe. Choking on air, you tried to come down from the panic. (And my skin is paler). This wasn't you. (Than it should ever be).

But nowadays...

Letting out one final sob, you put your head back against the door, looking up at the ceiling.

It was.

You fell asleep on the floor. Waking up to the sound of someone knocking on the door, you looked out in front of you for a second. Feeling lost and broken, you didn't want to move. “Y/n” Dick called out and you sat up while rubbing your throbbing head. “I’m coming, Dick... Just give me a second” you whispered out as you began to stand up. “Y/n” he whispered through the door and you stopped, staring straight at it. “Can I come in?” He asked kindly, you nodded but realized he couldn't see you, instead you reached forward and opened the door. He saw your messy hair and puffy face, he knew you. He knew the minute everyone came back that you were going to go cry all alone in your room. He knew who did this to you... He hated how Lew showed his love... It was such a tough love. Something you of all people didn't deserve. Lew came around the corner just then and your face hardened at seeing his. Dick turned around towards his friend and sighed, “I think you two need to talk... Now” Dick hissed as he grabbed Lew and pushed him into your room. “Hey! We have work to do-” Lew began but Richard just cut him off with a hand. “You two have to work together, now. Talk Lew. I’ll tell Sink that I couldn't get either of you up in time. You have 20 minutes” and then, he was gone. Leaving just you and Lew in the room. (I’m watching movies back to back in black white). You crossed your arms waiting for him to start, but of course. He wouldn't. (I never seen anybody do it like I do it any better). “Why do you hate me” you stated softly. (Then going over you, I’m overdue for no endeavors). “I don't hate you” he grumbled and you just scoffed before stepping forward. (Nobody lonely like I’m lonely and I don't know whether). You felt his absence ever since you got to his rank, and you were tired of it. You missed him. But he couldn't get over himself. (You’d really like it in the limelight). But at the same time, you couldn't get over him. (You’d sympathize with all the bad guys). You stood there still. Waiting for him to make his next move. As an intelligence officer, you knew the enemies next moves, but Lew? Lew was different. (I’m still a victim in my own right). Lew's eyes shot angrily to yours. “You know that you’re not as good as you think you are?” he hissed and you felt your heart break a little. “Really?” You snapped back finally standing up for yourself “Who fucking trained me LEW” you screamed finally as you slammed your hand down on the table. (But I’m the villain in my own eyes, yeah). “You would be smarter if I trained you” he growled and you just snarkily laughed as you grabbed his collar. Yanking him down to your height. Your lips trembled and his heart broke. Why was he doing this to you? He loved you... (When I was older). “I have wanted this since I could talk Lewis Nixon” you whispered shakily, the anger flooding through your veins as you grew the balls to tell him how you really felt. (I was a sailor). “I am good at this... you know it, I know it.” you snarled as you gripped the collar tighter. He just stared at you blankly, not showing any hint of remorse or emotion for that matter. (On an open sea). “You will not make me feel inadequate or stupid... I know who I am. I know my worth. YOU. DONT.” You screamed in his face and you saw his eyes blink as you saw a fleeting emotion cross his eyes. Guilt? Regret? You didn't know. You didn't care. “And to think” you started up once more as you let go of his collar and walked to the door. “100 men died... Because I was hopelessly in love with a man... Who treats me like shit” you laughed out darkly. Lew’s heart stopped at hearing those words, part of the reason he was mean, was because he thought you didn't like him. It was easier. But now that he knew the truth... It was too late. You blinked away the tears as you opened the door. “I love you” he called out hoarsely making you pause in the door frame. You straightened your back up and turned towards him. A tear fell down your cheek as you mustered the strength to say the three words that resonated inside of you...

“I hate you.”

The three words made Lew stop breathing as he felt the result of his actions. Turning, you left him there in the room. Heartbroken and shaken. He sat on your bed and rubbed his face. He couldn't hate you for those words... “I hate me too.” For he felt the same way.

tags: @hell-itwasyou @desired-love-

#lewis nixon imagine #lewis nixon imagines #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic

65 notes · View notes

murkserious · 4 years ago

Text

27 WAYS WE ARE BRAINWASHED AS AFRIKAN BLOOD PEOPLE WHITE VICIOUS SUPREMACY FROM BIRTH

by Dr Boyce Watkins

I remember when I first heard Malcolm X ask, “Who taught you to hate yourself?” Of course we know the answer to this question, but many of us are afraid to say it. Even mentioning the ways that white-dominated institutions shape our thinking can lead to punishment, ostracism, unemployment, incarceration and even death. The deepest part of this process is that the brainwashing in America can be so deep, so insidious, so subtle, that even the most meaningful reflection doesn’t allow us to solve the complex puzzle of White Supremacy.

This issue came to light last week when I went to visit a prison in Illinois. Although I am a law-abiding citizen, the prison took three years to approve me for a visit. After speaking to one of the inmates familiar with the approval process, we concluded that it was likely that my thinking and educational background made me some kind of threat to their system of oppression against black men. God forbid I go into the prison and say something that might inspire these black men to live a more empowered existence.

The fact is that people like myself are threats to white supremacy because we disrupt racialized systematic brainwashing.

I was sitting at my computer one night, thinking about all the ways that our minds are controlled from the time we are born. I thought about the many flawed concepts that are dropped into our psyches by media, the educational system, and even our own families. Some of these ideas hit us so early that we hardly have a chance to escape them. Others simply leave us crippled and unable to fight the racism all around us. Even more disturbing is that some of the greatest white supremacists in America can be other black people.

So, I made a list of several things many of us believe about the world and ourselves at an early age, as well as things we are trained to do that may end up being to our detriment. Of course this list is not final, nor is it presumably correct on every count. At the same time, it gives us something to think about, because the brainwashing is amazing, deep and deliberate in our society.

Here’s the list:

1) Letting our oppressors educate our children, medicate them, and put them into the school-to-prison pipeline. A thorough miseducation can be more destructive than no education at all, since many of our brains are filled with all the wrong stuff to begin with. Maybe instead of handing your child’s brain over to a public school system that has proven that it can’t properly educate black children, you can consider homeschooling the child after they get home for the day. Everything you need to know in order to teach your child is right there on the Internet.

2) Believing that white people are supposed to give us jobs when we can actually create them on our own: Given our long and rich history of working for white people, it can be difficult to see ourselves as the boss instead of the laborer. In fact, even us “educated” black people were often told that you should study hard in school so that some white-owned company will love you enough to employ you. Now, we’re seeing Harvard MBAs in the unemployment line, struggling to survive, like lions raised in the zoo who are starving to death because they were never taught how to hunt for their own food.

3) Thinking that every black person who goes to prison is automatically a bad human being: Mass incarceration is real and it is not by accident. When prisons are filled with strong black men who’ve received 40 year sentences for possessing two grams of a drug that many white people use on the weekend, you know you have a problem. What’s interesting is that the whole world sees this as a serious issue, but we do not.

4) Eating food that is going to give you diabetes and/or heart disease and/or high blood pressure and/or chronic obesity by the age of 45. Maybe eating pig guts and sweet tea with sweet potato pie every Sunday isn’t such a good idea after all.

5) Valuing sports and entertainment over education: Not many people know the name of the black kid who won the math competition, but everybody knows the guy who won the state championship. This fascination with sports as the pathway to success is largely driven by media, which waves black athletes and rappers in front of our boys just long enough for them to believe that education isn’t cool. Unfortunately, almost none of them ever get to play with LeBron James. Instead, the worst of them may end up as 25-year old baby daddies with no job, a criminal record, a weed addiction, bad knees and a fifth grade reading level. This is hardly the kind of man that an educated black woman would want to call her husband.

6) Believing that black people you see on white-owned TV networks are supposed to be leaders or role models to your community: If a white television executive wants to create key influencers in the black community, they can do so by putting that person on a network. Most of your favorite black celebrities, films, radio shows, TV shows and magazines wouldn’t exist to you were it not for white corporate benefactors positioning them to influence your mind.

7) Believing that every tax refund check and every paycheck is supposed to go straight to the mall to buy overpriced European brands from companies that don’t even hire black people: Money is capital to be used for investing, job creation and building businesses, not a consumption item to be given away at every available opportunity for the sake of materialistic excess or instant gratification. In other words, your money is your power, and you should not give all your power away.

8) Thinking that being “rich” means having a high paying job, a big house or a fancy car, even if it’s all financed with debt: There’s a good chance that the “baller” down the street is one paycheck away from being homeless. To determine the depth of true wealth, you have to go beneath the superficial.

9) Calling yourself and your friends n*ggers (or niggaz) and seeing nothing wrong with that: Listen to me carefully – You are NOT a n*gger, no matter how often Jewish-run record labels pay black rappers to tell you that you are.

10) Giving your money to white businesses and avoiding the black ones: Black people are often referred to as “liquid money,” because we are the only ones who are eager to give our money away to other ethnic groups. No one else does this. The guy in Chinatown is never going to buy your sh*t.

11) Thinking that we’re all supposed to vote for the Democratic Party in every election: Even Bill Clinton admitted that he put too many black people in prison, and President Obama’s not letting them out anytime soon. You don’t owe the Democratic Party anything, especially if they aren’t making black issues a priority.

12) Believing that Africa is a poor, dirty, horrible place with nothing but poverty and disease, and that you should thank your lucky stars you were “blessed” enough to live in America: Newsflash – you live in arguably the most racist country in the world. No country on the planet incarcerates black people the way we do in the United States of America. Many African leaders consider America to be racially corrupt.

13) Believing that Harvard and Yale are better than Spelman and Howard

14) Not realizing that both Spelman and Howard were founded by white people

15) Not realizing that most of the people who founded the NAACP were actually white and that this organization never really belonged to you in the first place. Not that they can’t help you, but they have less loyalty to you than to their corporate and political overseers.

16) Thinking that straight hair is “good” and black hair is “nasty,” then giving all of your money to Korean beauty shops so they can make you feel better about yourself. According to Dr Claud Anderson, roughly 85 cents of every dollar spent on black women’s hair goes to Koreans. I hate to admit it, but this makes us look really, really stupid.

17) Believing that light skinned women are more attractive than those with dark skin

18) Knowing nothing about African history, but believing that every great accomplishment occurred in Europe, starting with Christopher Columbus “discovering” a country that was well-populated thousands of years before he arrived.

19) Believing that you’re only supposed to pray, march and be peaceful every time your children get slaughtered by whites. It takes a while to train people to be as peaceful and forgiving as black people are. The brainwashing must be deeply rooted in tradition. Notice how one of the heads of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference was sent for “retraining” (aka re-brainwashing)after stating that black people should defend themselves. Even self-defense is considered to be a form of aggression when you are black in America.

20) Delivering your prayers to a big, white Jesus who will solve most of your problems for you, as long as you give money to the pastor.

21) Looking up to historical figures like George Washington who put our ancestors in chains and probably raped them

22) Believing that integration was a sign of progress for black people and not an era where black institutions were destroyed and left for dead

23) Believing that Martin Luther King is more important than Malcolm X because white people market him more regularly

24) Believing that Martin Luther King only spoke of peace and forgiveness instead of the same rage and reparations that many of us talk about today

25) Thinking that its normal to have an all-black neighborhood with a mostly white police force, when there are no all-white neighborhoods with a mostly black police force

26) Believing that a half-white president is going to be significantly different from a completely white one: Hint – most high-level politicians think alike, since they are supporting the same system that has oppressed you for 400 years. Many of them went to the same universities (nearly every member of the Supreme Court, plus every president for the last 27 years attended either Harvard or Yale at some point in their career). Also, our system incentivizes our political leaders to value corporate money over the plight of the American people. This is going to be the downfall of this nation.

27) Thinking that the first black (fill in the blank) to get into a white institution actually represents progress, even though whites have never considered it be progress to get into our institutions (Does standard White History include a story about the first white man to get into Morehouse?). We’ve been taught to believe that everything whiter is better: White corporate jobs, white universities, white neighborhoods, white TV networks/media outlets, the list goes on and on.

The fact is that we really, really LOVE white people, and this training started from birth. It started with us first learning how to hate ourselves and each other, and then to believe that the only way to restore our lost humanity was to gain the approval of our oppressors. As a result, we spend our lives marching, hoping, praying, working, begging, bowing, and compromising, with the expectation that we will be rewarded for our good behavior. Unfortunately, it can cause many of us to abandon the person we were meant to be, all for the sake of trying to become somebody else.

Once again, feel free to add to the list. I don’t know everything, but my brainwashing as a PhD tells me that I am supposed to think I know everything. So, maybe this is my first step toward escaping my own psychological plantation. We have all been infected affected.

0 notes