#i forgot how much i can speed read when i really love a series

[avocadosockz]

guys i got a new box set of pjo books because my old ones are falling apart and LOOK HOW PRETTY THEY ARE 🥰🥰🥰

[thatshappinessforme]

When We Are Together - Pt. 1 (?)

omg...hi. i'm really here rn. posting this. at nearly 4 am on a monday morning. im nervous. i could vomit. so...this has been in my head for forever. literally. the idea is massive. it extends so far. it's seriously a whole universe in my little brain. it took so long to get the basis of this all out on paper, but, i'm hoping this is a series...a long one. the title isn't going to make much sense right now, but i pinky swear we'll get there eventually. so...without further ado...here she is...(EEK!) (also i have no idea how to set this post up so bear with me lol)

so i guess i just lost my fanfic writing vcard💌

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word count: 2.4k

cw: just a little swearing, maybe a bit of bad writing, also maybe typos?? might be a little boring because it’s mostly to just like set the scene idk? (eventually the plan is to have a lil smut or smth but this really is just an intro lol)

_____________________________________________

The day starts as usual. You wake up to the sound of your alarm and your roommate’s hair dryer blaring through the thin walls of your Brooklyn walk-up. With a groan, you peel yourself out of the warmth of your bed, go to your desk, and open your laptop, holding onto a shred of delusional hope that one of your classes might be canceled for today; they rarely are…but you can’t blame a girl for being an optimist. 

You scroll through your inbox, refreshing, and refreshing – you really don’t want to go to class today. Blame the essay you’d procrastinated that you’d spent all of last night speed-writing. Blame senioritis. Blame the unpaid music publicity internship that you’d been letting eat up your time in hopes of scoring a good job. Blame the frigid snow and ice that seem to be taunting you from outside your window. But, luckily it’s a Friday.

You refresh your inbox one last time, just for good measure. And, something actually comes in. But, it’s not from one of your professors. It’s from some company named “Dirty Hit.”

You raise an eyebrow and open the email, thinking it must be something related to one of the countless jobs you’ve applied for in the last few weeks, preparing for graduation at the end of the semester.

Y/N,

I’m a representative with one of our bands here at Dirty Hit. We’re really impressed with your work and have an opportunity we’d love to discuss with you, if you have a free moment this week at some point. Are you based out of New York? Get back to us when you can. We’re looking forward to hearing from you.

Best,

The Dirty Hit Team

“That’s weird,” you whisper to yourself, reading the short, ominous email over and over again. It’s not everyday that a label reaches out to a random college student to work with them. You’re not really sure what they could possibly be impressed with. You’ve just done minor PR internship work with underground bands from the east coast – that’s not exactly impressive. It sure as hell doesn’t warrant an email.

“Y/N?,” you hear one of your roommates and best friend, Vivian, call from outside your door before walking in, not bothering to knock. The two of you are close, almost like sisters at this point. In some ways, you’re exactly the same person, but in others your polar opposites. She’s a little bit more outgoing than you are, but she always helps to get you out of your shell. “Do you think I can get this guy I’m talking to into the venue tomorrow night? It’s just at The Soundwave, right?,” she asks, plopping down on the corner of your bed. 

Shit. You completely forgot you signed up for an open mic tonight. You’d been playing your songs at small bars in Brooklyn and Manhattan for the past year or so. Songwriting had always been a bit of a hobby for you. So when you’re a broke college student in one of the most expensive cities in the world, you just find tricks to get you and your friends to do fun things for free. You’d learned a while back that performing at open mics usually meant you and your friends could get into bars and clubs without having to pay a cover, so you’d been spending your weekends doing that for a while. It’s all for fun. Sure, you like performing and put a lot into your songwriting, but pursuing it isn’t even quite a dream for you. You have an impending college degree you’ve worked your ass off for. In every sense of the word, music was a hobby for you. 

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem. He might have to pay the cover, but it’s not like it’s the sort of thing where people buy tickets. You know the drill. But, obviously you’re my plus one, so no cover for you,” you nod, still staring at your laptop screen.

“What are you staring at, over there? Everything okay?,” she asks, getting up and moving to stand over your shoulder at your desk. You move your head a little so she can get a good look at the words on your screen. You watch her face as she reads the email, her lips dancing on each of the syllables as you watch her process it. “Dirty Hit? What the hell is that? Sounds like a porn company. Impressed with your work? Do you have a booming, secret OnlyFans I’m unaware of?,” she jokes. 

I laugh and playfully nudge her arm. “No, no,” you giggle, “It’s a record label, I think. I’ve heard the name thrown around a few times at my internship. I think they’re kinda big.” You tab over and do a quick Google search. Immediately, a sea of popular artists and bands pop up under the label.

“Holy shit. Beabadoobee? Bleachers? The 19 fucking 75? I have their fuckin’ poster on my wall. They’re cool as shit,” she reads over your shoulder. “I mean, I have no idea what they could possibly want from me. My resumè isn’t all that impressive. Sure, I’m planning on going into music PR, but there’s no reason why I would stand out against someone who has like…an actual career under their belt,” you ramble, trying to make sense of the 67 words in haunting your inbox. 

There’s a long pause, both of you trying aimlessly to make sense of the email. “Well, you’re gonna email them back, right?,” she eventually asks. You take breath, starting a reply to the email, leaving your cell phone number.

You try to focus on anything other than waiting for a reply. You do your best not to let your mind wander into the what-ifs, but as soon as you get done with your lectures for the day, you check your phone for any response.

Y/N,

Thanks for getting back to us so quickly. The band and management is also in New York for the next few months for a project. We would give you more information over email, but much of the matter is highly confidential. We have a studio space at Electric Lady in Greenwich Village that we could meet at, if that works for you. I know it is rather short notice, but could you meet this evening at some point? Let us know.

Best,

The Dirty Hit Team

You quickly reply to the email on your walk back from campus, confirming the meeting for later this evening. You get back to your apartment and practically tear apart your closet trying to figure out what the hell to wear. You know it’s a business meeting, but it’s also for some mystery band. You don’t want to dress unprofessionally, but you also don’t want to seem uptight. You decide on a black mini skirt with tights and a chunky black turtleneck sweater. You finish primping and step into Vivian’s room, practically out of breath from all the outfits you’ve tried on and scrapped.

“Okay, if you were a band looking for…a PR representative…? Would you hire me?,” you ask her, standing in front of her bed as she looks up from her phone. She looks you up and down and grins, “Of course I would, Y/N. You look great,” she reassures you, sensing you’re anxious, “So, you really think this is just a PR gig?”

“I mean, yeah. What else could it possibly be? It couldn’t be my music. I’m not even on any streaming platforms; I don’t promote it at all,” you say with certainty. She shrugs and smiles, before wishing you the best of luck as you head out the door.

You get on the subway and head to Electric Lady. The train has always been one of your favorite parts about living in New York for college. Putting your pink headphones on, looking out the window into the catacombs that stretch throughout the city, people watching. It’s where you did your best thinking. 

You get off the train and walk through the streets, your headphones on and your music blasting, only interrupted occasionally by Google Maps telling you where to turn and such. Eventually the robotic voice in your ear says “Arrived” and you look over your right shoulder…here it is. You're right on time. You go to open the doors, pushing on them gently; must still be locked. You sigh, assuming that its to be expected. That this is simply upholding a prophecy of some sort that the band and music-industry-folk run behind…until you hear a laugh.

“It’s a pull,” you hear a man’s voice call out with a slight chuckle. From just those three words, you’ve determined that he has one of the thickest English accents you’d ever heard. You look over your left shoulder and see a man leaning up against the wall of the studio smoking a cigarette. “What?,” you ask, confused as you look over to him. He has a hood on and you can’t make out his face, or what he was trying to tell you. “The doors. It says right on them. ‘PULL,’” he chuckles, tossing his cigarette to the ground and putting it out with his Adidas sneaker, walking over to you. “Oh, um, thanks, I’m an idiot. I almost gave up,” you chuckle, pulling the door open this time. The man follows you into the studio, holding the door open once you tug on it. You look back over your shoulder to thank him for holding the door, the first time he’s been close enough for you to make out his face; Christ, it’s Matty Healy.

“I know who you are,” he says to you with a cheeky grin as he starts walking into the back of the studio. You just stand there near the doorway, the gust of cigarette-scented, cold January air lingering around you. You’re perplexed, to say the least. He keeps walking down the hall before finally turning over his shoulder, “You’re just gonna stand there? You have a meeting. Wouldn’t be very professional of you to stand us up,” he teases dryly. You blink a few times before nodding, following him, still in a bit of disbelief that this was the band that had some sort of ‘interest’ in you.

He shows you into a studio in the back. Once he opens the door, there are four other men sitting there, three that you also recognize from your roommate’s wall. The other, a bit older, more professional looking. 

“Y/N! I’m Jamie, I manage these blokes. Thank you so much for agreeing to come meet with us today. I know everything was rather vague on the emails, but…we had to keep it that way. But, now that you’re here, let's talk, yeah? Are you familiar with The 1975?,” the older man asks you, in a super friendly manner as you sit down on a plush chair in the corner of the room. Every eye in the room is glued to you. The air is almost sticky with anticipation. You take a deep breath and try to slap on the most composed, thoughtful, professional smile you can manage.

“Um, yes! Of course,” you nod, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, “I’m actually a fan of you all. Really, I listen to your stuff with my friends – you’re fantastic.”

“Good, good. We’re glad to hear it,” he grins, looking around at the boys who also all look to be pleased. Even though everyone’s eyes are on you, you feel Matty's specifically, practically burning a hole in the side of your head as he stands, still leaning in the doorway.

“We’re impressed with you, Y/N. So, I’m just going to get on with it. George went to a little bar in Bushwick last month and sent us a video he took of you singing one of your originals…you’re bloody fantastic. We’re going on tour this summer. We want to do something a little different this time with our opener. We want to build someone from the ground up. You’re it. We want you. What do you say? You interested?,” he explains with a wide grin, his tone casual like he didn’t just tell you the craziest shit you’ve ever heard. 

Jamie’s words hit you in slow motion. You look around the room, the air moving from feeling sticky to feeling ice cold, jolting you awake. “I’m sorry…what the actual fuck did you just say?,” you blurt out blankly, any ounce of composure you may have had completely gone. 

You immediately catch yourself, your language, your lack of professionalism, though, “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I…that just came out of my mouth…I-,” your face goes bright red as you desperately try to correct yourself.

The room erupts in laughter, the men you recognize from Viv’s poster nearly barreling over off the sofa. Jamie’s jaw on the floor as he howls, slapping the table in front of him. You look over your shoulder to see that Matty’s still in the doorway, and he’s just standing there with his arms crossed, shaking his head at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh, I think we’re gonna get along quite well with this one,” he remarks, licking his lips, weirdly impressed with your mispeakings.

You can’t help but sigh softly and shake your own head when he looks at you like that; something in you shifting as if he’s the only person in the room; as if he was the only person who'd ever laid eyes on you; as if he was the only person ever. As if, the offer you got just moments before wasn’t the most absurd thing that had ever happened to you. As if you didn’t need to thoroughly think this all over. As if you could make the decision right now.

You look back over to Jamie, who’s still chuckling. Before you can give yourself the time to overthink, you swing one of your legs over the other, lean back into the chair and smirk, “Jamie, where the hell do I sign?” 

…and this is how it starts.

[steddieas-shegoes]

aida the gata' masturbata'

this pun brought to you by the genius mind of @messessentialist (i'd be so good to ya babe).

IT'S TIME FOR THE WEEKLY FIC REC, where i pick top 3 (to me) fics from some of my favorite authors! as always, please check the tags before indulging and go through their entire works/masterlist (especially this week, aida's blessed many fandoms with her talent). like, kudos, reblog, and comment on works when you can; it keeps writers writing!

this week is @aidaronan! aida was one of the first steddie authors i read, but apparently forgot about until everyone was like 'go reread' and now i have and it's all even better the second time. also was a big fan of her stucky work back in the day of not steddie times, and maybe when my brain take a day off from these two idiots in situations, i can go relive those two idiots in situations. aida nails dialogue, like perfect characterization for everyone, and also. also. monsterfucking.

aida's tumblr | aida's ao3

Critical Hit Rated E | 7,102 words This entire fic was a critical hit. Steve getting spanked to hell and back after speed-running a sexuality crisis? Sign me up. Put me first on the list. Make me a VIP. Favorite part: “Jesus, Steve, this better not be a one night stand. I’m, like, fucking obsessed with you right now.” Eddie pushes his legs apart enough to get between them. He can smell Steve’s musk, his arousal. “Gonna suck you off. That cool?” 

Cut and Changed and Rearranged Rated T | 10,856 words It's very rare that I rec anything with a rating lower then M or E, not because I don't read those stories, but usually because they just don't stand out as much to me. But with this one, it would be a disservice to every person in this fandom to not read it. A fast slow-burn love confession through a mix tape!!! Favorite part: He wants to be someone they can all lean on, and people can’t lean on things that might break. 

Bow to the Beast Inside: Monsterfucker Anthology Rated R | ongoing series I don't think I need to go into detail about monsterfucking. We all know how I feel about monsterfucking. The series is all standalone fics, so you can choose your monster, or do what I did and choose all the monsters. Favorite fic in the series: Gotta go with the one that started it all. The Prettiest Boy in Hawkins, Indiana. It really hit every checkmark on my monsterfucking to-do list.

[farawaysoph-ie]

The Sunshine Court Incoherent Whatever (pt.1)

Okay. Okay.

I just finished The Sunshine Court and 1) Jean Moreau what have you done to me? 2) Jean Moreau what have(n't) they done to you?

I started this, then went and re-read tkm (bc the obsession was always latent and never gone), so I could compare both Neil and Jean pov and well, suffice to say I'm not okay and I feel too much.

Thank you Nora Sakavic, it was painful and amazing.

I have a long train ride so I might as well bring back my incoherent whatever after *checks the notes* 4 years :')

As always this will be so full of spoilers.

(Unrelated spoiler: the train ride wasn't enough)

Let's start with the general:

After loving Neil maybe too much the shift to Jean took awhile to adjust to but now I'm ready to fight at least three mafia families, every single hater (fictional or otherwise) and the FBI for him

Jeremy Knox was everything, but like everyone on here, what are you hiding Jeremy?? What's going on??

Cat and Laila, my beloved ™️ the care these two effortlessly gave made me cry

This whole book was a serious trigger for me, but I'm in too deep with this series, imagine me like that Simpsons meme, I did it for my new french son

Characters, thoughts:

I said before the Ravens were a cult, but I hadn't really understood that statement. Every time Jean spoke of them it hit deeper and deeper how messed up and unfair it all was.

Boy am I happy that Riko is dead, like I didn't really wish anyone the fate of being shot by an unfeeling older brother, until Jean's pov hit me like a high speed train.

Andrew spoke exactly one word in this, still was iconic and a scene stealer, how in character for him

I forgot how much I always want to slap Kevin Day when he's trying his best to be annoying, it's because I love him, I swear! (But seriously his relationship with Jean is so complex and well executed I will think about it for a very long while)

I didn't give much thought to Renee and Jean relationship in tkm, but it broke my heart here, it's when I started to actually tear up, I love them so much rainbows, a cool evening breeze. I can't.

"Tell me something"

"Where are you now?"

The whole dynamic of the Cat&Laila& sometimesJeremy's apartment

Cat teaching Jean how to cook + motorbike ride (open roads)

Laila taking him to shopping

Jeremy wanting to make Jean Moreau the Person his success story

Neil dragging Jean towards survival without giving him a choice, again and again: he sent Renee as gentle bait, closed a deal in his name with a mafia boss, promised him he would win against Riko in his name too, promised him again Riko was dead, ordered a hit on his rapist, offered to delay the talk with the FBI, linked his sister to his name, to survival and to what he deserved. I NEED more interactions between them, I am not above begging.

I have to get a better idea on the other Trojans, but for now the policule was cute, I need more Cody and less Lucas. Like I can understand where he was coming from? But he needs to shut up now, you made your mess man, now go play Exy like you were supposed to.

I miss the Foxes :'(

Wymack! I almost forgot everyone's favourite dad-coach: he showed up, brought alcohol, got more tired, delivered care to yet another traumatized child, spent a whole day on airplanes to bring him to Los Angeles, left him money for clothes&co. bc he's not doing this again, answered his call when he was having The Breakdown. Best dad-coach ever in the history of dad-coaches.

Plot things:

Jean at the beginning was so scared and in so much pain it took a while to get a clear picture of him as a person

Still loved all his salty comments and insults, he couldn't help himself

Renee sitting with him and caring with Abby and Wymack :')

Jean being afraid of going back and of not going back to Evermore, hating the ones that got to leave

The self harm and all the people in this that fought him to keep his hands from his neck, his scars, himself

"I am Jean Moreau. My place is at Evermore. I will endure."

Jean not believing in Wymack care, waiting for the act to end and the other shoe to drop

The disbelief at Kevin being away from the court and him admitting he went at knifepoint (and meaning it literally), sometimes this was a comedy

Wymack, Jean, and the burning of houses

Jean's opinion of the Foxes going from those mediocre fools to those mediocre madmen to the madmen that actually beat Riko Moriyama

Wymack putting Jean's phone in the freezer and hating computers

“That man is years overdue for a high-speed, head-on collision.” couldn't have said it better, but Neil was already on it at that point

"Jean knew better than to look for anger in his stare; the best Kevin could manage was bottomless guilt."

“It was my only chance,” Kevin said. “I knew you wouldn’t come with me.” “My place is at Evermore,” Jean agreed, “but you did not have to slit my throat on the way out.”

“Your blind loyalty to those clowns is exhausting.” “Some of them you like,” Kevin reminded him. “Don’t you dare,”

Nathaniel "Hello Jean" Wesninski vs Jean "Go away" Moreau

This whole conversation went very differently compared to tkm: like there Neil came, dropped a metaphorical bomb, glossed over the explanation and went away trying to convince Andrew they are something

Jean was ambushed by two of his most complicated acquaintances (???) and their "pet goalkeeper" (god I need Andrew's reaction to this "nickname", but I guess no one will ever say this to his face, Neil would be too busy fighting you at the suggestion to ever repeat it), had his worldwiew turned upside down with no chance of having a say in the matter, then was left alone with Kevin Day and the aftermath.

So yes two different conversation; also I kinda forgot of the deal about Neil and his smile

“Everyone who has tried to tame him has failed.”

All for the game: a summary

There was no getting away; there was only getting through.

Jean Moreau who (hasn't) hurt you, part some of too many

What really makes it messed up is that on one hand there was Riko and his mad cruelty and on the other there was an entire team of bystanders At Best: some people were an active part and then pretended, no sympathy for them; others decided to ignore the truth to survive and get what they wanted, which I can understand but I guess they still didn't have the decency to shut up when Jean got away. The anger that crawled through my skin when the smear campaign and the notebook/postcards/magnets thing happened. You should have stayed silent until the end you fucks.

“Do it, then. It wouldn’t take much; we all know I have brittle bones.”

Jeremy pov kinda gave you whiplash, with him waking up super early, helping homeless men, but then you start noticing all the things he avoids almost effortlessly and like, what are you hiding sunshine man??

What actually broke me about his povs was him noticing all these details about Jean, and then misinterpreting them, bc whatever he's been through Jean has had it 100 times worse and this doesn't even factor in Jeremy world. I'm pretty sure he'll get the whole truth in the end and I'm scared of what it'll do to him.

Also Jean being like Ravens always had to keep secrets and then spilling most of them almost unprompted, let's laugh in order not to cry

“He hasn’t played a clean game in years,” Kevin admitted, “but he knows how to follow orders. If you tell him to submit, he will.” “Literally the most awkward way you could’ve worded it,” Jeremy said.

This will keep coming back, Kevin please. (He 100% ships it, one of us)

The Foxes catching the too tired Trojans and Jeremy being like, you are all approved (I need the two teams to interact now)

Also the Trojans being like how are they still standing, Neil how are you still running??

Someone pointed out they wanted Neil to interact with Jeans closest teammates bc if he is a madman by Jean standards, what would normal people make of him? To which yes, but also guys consider this: Neil said to Cat and Laila that they were terrifying after the semifinal, he took a step back when Jeremy opened the door and silently invited him in. I need Neil and the floozies to interact so Neil can experience real fear.

Mafia bosses have nothing on wholesome people, the true weakness of one Neil Josten

Jean immediately hanging up on Jeremy will never not be funny

When you get to the title of the book and it's Jean insulting people <3

I will Never, NEVER, get over the "nineteen". Never.

I love Abby but when she told that bit about fighting back, It Hurt. She probably didn't really mean it and didn't know everything bc how are you supposed to keep fighting when you are fifteen, alone and forsaken in a place that is built to break you? As it has been pointed out, Neil had rebellion beaten into him by a mother that chose him and ran; Jean had a sister that he hoped to protect and parents that sold him away like property. Five months were actually a long time.

Dobson keeps being iconic, I don't know what to think about the I don't know how exy works bit: I mean I've been obsessing with this and still don't know how exy works (plz don't hate me), but at the same time it was such a power move and got Jean to talk

“Of course it’d be you, you tedious malcontent.” “Good morning to you, too.” Nathaniel held up an oversized bandage.

You see why I need more of their interactions, right?

Nathaniel was different; he always would be. He wasn’t a Raven, but he was, same as Jean. He was Jean’s misplaced forever partner, an unfulfilled promise Jean had stopped believing in years ago.

You can now be forever partners while you tear down your families :)

I think that I'm stuck on the two of them bc while Kevin broke a promise to save himself (to which no hate, when dealing with madmen like Riko you have to save yourself) and still couldn't, not completely, Neil was a promise made and broken by other people. Jean hates him bc they were supposed to share a destiny and all the misery, but I think very deep down he knows that if Nathaniel had come to the Nest they would still be nursing wounds and appeasing a tyrant. Neil is the one that stood against Riko when Kevin wanted to hide, the one that gave him courage by example, the one that dragged Jean away from the Ravens, both for selfish reasons (taking down Riko) and better ones (paying him back for saving his life a the Nest).

But still

“You are only here now because you are an abominable cockroach,”

Funny how Neil forgot to tell us about the breakdown about Kevin's tattoo, he was probably thinking about the match. Junkie.

The cheese drawer guys, ???

To this day I still can't decide what was more iconic: Kevin Day switching playing hand halfway through the game and pretty much scoring everything until the last second, Neil being so fast that it made up for him being a shitty defender, Andrew crossing the court to keep Neil from being murdered (I'm biased, but still iconic moments all of them)

Experiencing this match from Jean's pov was amazing writing, like the countdown of the last ten seconds, the Riko-Neil bit without volume but from a different angle (I didn't really realize everyone was able to see the King attempting murder live on TV, but hey perspective)

Run, Jean thought. He didn't know if he was thinking it at Andrew or Nathaniel. Run.

"That wasn't a miracle," Jean typed out. "That was the Foxes."

:')

When Jean found about Riko though :'(

The shudder that wracked his chest should have been revulsion, but it fell dangerously short. This didn't feel like joy or relief; it only felt like loss. [...] Who was he without them?"

I loved that he woke up to Renee and Neil though, the rainbow and the witness

Renee always hitting the point, this wonderful girl

"Maybe you're mourning the wreckage he made of your life. You're allowed to grieve what he took from you."

"It's impressive, isn't it? How easily these monsters die in the end."

Neil Abram Josten said I'm done letting monsters ruin my life and my people, he actually promised.

When he called him Neil guys, tears

Also I found peculiar that when thinking about the room he destroyed Jean calls it "Neil's dorm room", not Kevin's who he's known for actually longer. It's what makes me think that they have a chance at not being misplaced forever anymore.

Renee either hits you with hidden wisdom of the universe or with practical and brutal advice, and we love her for that

The two of them, the Two Of THEEEEEEEEM

Jean noticed how Andrew and Neil moved like they were caught in each other's gravity, in each other's space more than they were out of it, cigarette smoke and matching armbands and lingering looks when one fell out of orbit for too long.

Just leaving this here.

The airport bit :'(

"Men like Wymack didn't exist. They couldn't; they shouldn't."

Enter Jeremy Knox and his yo-yo in the middle of said airport. Flawless.

This man was put on Earth to test Jean, at least that's what he will keep thinking from here on

The rest of this book is Jean having conversations with people and not understanding them, bc he's been living for five (seven) years in a cult. It is an escalation pretty painful to watch, I think the Trojans are all of us :'(

Question: will Jean end up teaching Jeremy French? Will Jeremy learn by himself? I think I'd probably prefer the latter

Cat, the mess, the music, the tour, I love her so much

Jeremy "he's a little off" Knox, he was trying

Barkbark von Barkenstein

Jean Moreau and the real world (bubble tea? you have to shop for stuff? you sign things yourself? you leave campus? someone help this disoriented french bean)

"Something had gone horribly wrong at Evermore"

oh Jeremy

Watching Jeremy regret almost all his questions :'(

“Three fractured ribs. Sprained LCL. Twisted ankle. Broken nose. That’s most of it.” That’s most of it.

Laila, who pushed and got angry for Jean and didn't back down despite him lashing out, my beloved

You look like a Ken doll." + "This isn't blond."

"Not Grayson.[...] Please." that one made me sick, the writing made me feel even only a part of what Jean was feeling and it was enough to feel sick

The water :'(

Jean just leaving when confronted with Laila and Jeremy in swimsuits was very bi of him

Lucas coming in looking like a well know nightmare and the Ravens dropping like flies

I didn't ask.

It's not like I didn't know, right? But I still died inside

Zane and the betrayal

Jeremy didn’t let him get away with it. “That’s not the issue and you know it. I don’t want to crowd you.” “You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”

Jean taking one look at the doctor sent by the coaches and going nope, Dobson will be definitely better

Jeremy seeing the nightmares and the scars and not being able to do much:(

A hand on his chin startled him into looking up. When he met Jean’s eyes, Jean only said, “Focus on what’s important.” “I am,” Jeremy said. Jean opened his mouth, closed it again, and let go of Jeremy without a word. Jeremy snagged his arm when he started to turn away. “Who did this to you?”

I'm sorry did he just

“It’s not about size, anyway.” “Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.

“Say ‘yes, Jeremy’.” He had the distinct impression Jean wanted to roll his eyes. “Yes, Jeremy.” Jeremy forgot everything else he could have said in favor of staring. It was the first time he’d heard Jean say his name.

Are you seeing this? Yes? Good, let's go on

“If I ever make you uncomfortable or make you feel unsafe, will you promise to tell me? If you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s wrong and why, at least trust me enough to tell me that something is wrong. I can’t fix things if I don’t know there’s a problem. As your captain and your partner, don’t I at least deserve the chance to not be a villain in your story?”

The pool bit :'( and after when they tell there are no pools at Evermore. Riko is so lucky to already be dead :)

You’re forcing us to hurt you without giving us any say in the matter.”

Watching Jean trying to navigate his interactions with the Trojans was painful, frustrating but also hopeful. This boy has been hurt so much and so often, he doesn't get what normal looks like anymore. But the Trojans don't let him get away with it (even if it breaks their heart and the coaches will probably get a lot of grey hair from this)

"Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.” “You are naïve.” “Maybe you’ll define success by how we do this season, but I’m not obligated to do the same. You are going to be my success story: Jean Moreau the person, not Jean Moreau of the perfect Court. You take care of one, and I’ll take care of the other.” “That is not how it works.” “Is there a rule against it?” “There is no merit to it. This is all I am.” Jeremy ignored that and asked again, “Is there a rule against it?”

Jeremy gay panicking and the photo of Renee

The floozy line!

Every time Jeremy goes "our coaches" or "our teammates" all I can think in my head is "someone will die" "of fun!!!!"

Jean wondering if the Trojans have something against recruiting tall players xD

“Thank you for worrying about them. You’re a good man, Jean Moreau.” “A ridiculous sentiment,” he said. “I mean it,”

This man didn't even second guess himself, he had to ask because he knew and it didn't even occur to him to be silent. Excuse me sir? Shut up you are a good man

“I assumed the Trojans were idiots,” Jean said. “Now I think you are all insane.” “It’s a step up,” Cody said. “I’ll take it.”

The practices, the scars pt2

“It is all I am, Coach.”

“We did not want outsiders at Evermore.” “Except Neil,” Cat said. “Neil was a special case,” Jean allowed.

#accurate

You’re hurting me.” “It has been toward for five years,” Jean said, looking past Jeremy at the scrimmage that was still going on without them. “It is not that easy to undo.” Jeremy frowned at him and echoed, “Five? You were only with the Ravens for three.” “I moved into Evermore two years before I enrolled,” Jean said, and hauled Jeremy to one side. The stray ball that had been coming for them ricocheted off his chest instead of Jeremy’s back, and Jean scooped it up on the rebound with a quick snap of his wrist. He hurled it across the court toward Cody one-handed before finally letting go of Jeremy. “I will try harder.”

The notebooks breakdown hurt so bad bc Cat and Laila being angry for him (they are all of us), Jeremy trying to mediate bc he's been there, he pushed and Jean broke and he doesn't want to hurt him, and Jean who confesses his secrets without meaning to, just to realize and panic. What a recipe for a disaster.

“How dare they blame you for anything after what they did to you. How dare you grieve them.” It hit like a sucker punch, but Jean’s frustrated rejoinder was worse: “They don’t know.”

They don't know, but they could guess. They could smell the blood. They joked about his brittle bones. He was sixteen. I'm not sorry for the mercy I don't have after finishing this book

Jeremy could only watch in wretched silence as Jean tried to walk himself back from the edge. He cast his phone aside in favor of catching Jean’s face in his hands, and the way Jean flinched at his touch was almost his undoing. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Hey. Jean. Look at me.” Jean refused, and Jeremy grasped desperately for anything that could bring Jean back to him. He seized on the only thing he could and threw Jean’s words back at him: “You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.” It wouldn’t work, but it did. Jean opened his eyes to meet Jeremy’s stare. “I told you not to ask me about him.”

I had seen the quote before reading but no one told me what followed ç.ç

He felt a tremor in Jean’s hands, and for a blinding moment he was sure Jean would lean into the safety of this silent confession. But Jean only sucked in a slow breath and said, “Now I am not safe with you, captain.” Letting go of Jean was the hardest thing Jeremy had ever done. Everything in him railed against this, and for a moment he regretted giving Jean a way out.

I was not crying, I swear.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, because he didn’t have the strength for small talk or a softer approach right now. “Did Riko break your hand?”

That was one heavy conversation and it's just the start (Jeremy is Not Fine™️)

He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” “I will wait as long as it takes,” Jeremy said.

Still best boy

And maybe in many ways he still was, but a martyr could still be a monster when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Boy do I have news for you (do you think Jeremy will know that Riko didn't kill himself? Does it matter? I think not knowing this particular detail would be fine, I still don't really know how much this sunshine boy can take (more than I expected but still))

Did I mention that I really love the apartment trio? Cat and Laila agreeing to silence but still being angry (drag them girls, draaaaag them), the dinner and movie and Jean not getting up to leave

Did I mention Lucas is free to shut up and play? :) Because I get that you are angry, but 1) it's not your decision to make, we don't need your conspiracy theories 2) it's not Jean problem, he has enough of them leave him alone

“Ask him why he’s so sure the rumors are true. Ask him what his part in it was. If you’re going to believe him just because he’s blood, then at least make him tell you the truth.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas demanded.

And Jean still deciding not to lie, he may be an asshole but almost everyone he has known didn't deserve him

Also I don't know where Lucas got the audacity? You think there is something the justifies breaking a player's ribs?? What is wrong with you, you are part of the sunshine court

The dread when asking if Grayson was home

The bike ride :')

Now that they were settled, he expected an interrogation or a reason for this unscheduled trip out. When she failed to explain herself, Jean finally asked, “Why are we here?” “I love it here,” [...] “I don’t know. I just felt like some fresh air would do you good. There’s nothing like a ride to get you out of your head and into the moment, you know?” Jean considered that for a minute. “Thank you.”

Jean waited until he was out of earshot. “I don’t understand.” “Trust us,” Jeremy said tiredly. “Neither do we.”

Jean vs the Trojans, a summary

The monster shows up and it was a mess and Jean has never had a break, literally never

Which was extremely literal bc Lucas wanted to talk and then Neil shows up

I need a separate post for the last pages bc I started this 24 h ago and I want to do it justice. So part 2 coming.

Edit: I misspelled Jean's surname *facepalms and goes to hide*

[lost-boys-chapter]

I am continuing with the sa reread!! hopefully it'll speed up now bc the bartending ✨️chaos season✨️ (aka the euros) is over, so I should have more time. also am on holiday this week and convinced I can get through the entirety of twok by saturday. I'm almost to part 3. my thoughts are as follows:

who are the three guys in the ishikk interlude? I say this, knowing 2/3 of the answer. one of them is galladon, right? and another is demoux? I know one if them is the nale lookalike mentioned in the sa5 interlude preview? do we have any more info on why they're looking for hoid yet? I vaguely remember these three always confusing me.

are the epigraphs for p2 the letter from hoid to frost? the 'old friend' threw me off bc that's how sazed refers to everyone in tlm, but I'm increasingly sure it makes sense that it's hoid.

also, GOD, dalinar and adolin's opening chapters are boring. ik they end up being two of my faves in the rest of the series so I've been slogging through them but they just seem to....not be doing a lot. obviously a lot of the point of their chapters is that the vengeance pact is becoming long and drawn out, and more about sport than anything else, so it kind of makes sense thematically. but still, doesn't feel like there's a lot to sink my teeth into.

relatedly, increasingly it does feel like kaladin is the Personality Hire of the original pov characters. like, he's got a lot less to say in terms of worldbuilding and setup for the general arc of the first half than shallan and dalinar, but he's the only real character who you care about enough to sink your teeth into the plot and properly root for on first read. I definitely felt that way to begin with and I still feel so on reread, so. you can also quite easily see him becoming marginally less relevant in later books so I wonder if part of it really is that he's just the first character you can really begin to love in this series. not saying I don't care for him in later books, obviously. but idk just a thought

rock my beloved !! I had completely forgotten he'd become a bridgeman by putting chull dung in sadeas' soup LMAO he's my favorite ever. also, when him and teft were asking each other's names and teft asked him what his real name was, I immediately said, out loud, 'numuhukumakiaki'aialunamor.' not sure what it says that I remembered this but forgot other characters' entire existence.

the other bridgemen make me 🥰🥰🥰 also. it surprises me on reread that sigzil was one of kaladin's biggest critics to begin with. it reads as kind of weird to me but I suppose the realities of bridgeman life would strip the fundamentals of anyone's character. still, I'm yet to read the sunlit man and we know how much I've forgotten regardless so maybe I've been shaped by fandom perception a little too much.

dunny :( I've not got to the bit where he dies yet but I remember his being the bridgeman death that hurt the most in twok so every time he shows up I get a fun burst of sadness. also for some reason I thought it was hobber who originally almost died, not leyten, but maybe I'm right and just haven't gotten to that part yet lol.

just remembered that lopen exists too. looking forward to him showing up.

and syl!! I love her so much, it's cool in retrospect to see what spren lose and how they slowly regain their sentience while moving into the physical realm to form a bond. seeing her confused about understanding abstract concepts is great. I was listening to the wind and truth predictions shardcast the other day and someone came up with a theory that the way windrunners are recruited might be turned on its head in era 2. in retrospect that would be super cool to see.

speaking of, that episode of shardcast also convinced me that syladin is a possibility, which ruined my day.

unrelatedly: navani is such a badass, that text post that's going around that's like 'navani really showed up at the shattered plains and immediately told dalinar that her son is a loser' is so so real lol. I don't think I originally liked her in twok bc I didn't understand her... purpose, I guess? this time around I'm like 😍😍 mine scientist lady beloved.

also, could the stormfather really not think of a better way to investigate a possible bond than random prophetic visions? though the one we see onscreen first with the weird midnight creatures is very cool in retrospective.

regarding flashbacks: I'm not super invested in kaladin's past, once you've read it once it's not difficult to remember what happens so I'm pretty much just skimming. but I think rereading it a few years older makes it a lot easier to understand that lirin is a far more complex character than I originally thought, esp regarding row. obviously he's got kaladin's best interests in mind, but I feel like his moral reasoning is a lot clearer on reread. I don't think hes a great person, but i dont think hes necessarily more flawed than a lot of other main characters. I don't exactly remember what happens in row but I remember he gets... worse. I'm interested to see how my opinion changes.

and finally on a meta note: I know the first arc is supposed to thematically parallel a ketek, which I remember being able to spot elements of between wor and row. I'm super curious to see if I can spot anything in twok which might be paralleled in wind and truth. I do think I thought of smth regarding syl earlier but I forgot what it was 🫠-- maybe something go do with the recreance questions we're hoping to get answered?

this has been a very long post for which I am sorry but I'm open to discussion points!! would love to hear people's thoughts on my thoughts lol. will inevitably be back with more lukewarm takes

[cabeswaterdrowned]

Top 5 fairytale remakes!

•Blanca & Roja by Anna-Marie Mclemore I highly reccomend all the books I’ve read by them, When The Moon Was Ours and Wild Beauty aren’t directly inspired by any one fairytale as far as I know but are fairytale-esque magical realism tales and Dark and Deepest Red is a retelling of  Hans Anderson’s “The Red Shoes”. I also did just start reading Lakelore but it was a library book and my flight to move back to college is tomorrow so I had to return it. But I love all the books I’ve read by theknand this is my favorite one it’s a Snow White and the Red Rose retelling. I absolutely loved the two sisters and how their dynamic was written and explored, the writing is gorgeous to me. 

•Deathless by Catherine M. Valente I read this book in high school and at the time it was a challenge so I definitely need to reread it however despite me maybe not being mature enough at that point to grasp everything in the story what I loved about it, specifically the main heroine Marya Morevna and how much I adored her and her arc really stuck with me. And again, beautiful writing style I need to read more by this author (I did read her book Refrigerator Monologues but it didn’t land for me in the same way and other sff things she’s written look more my speed so I should get on that ). it’s a Koschei and the Deathless retelling and I would say out of the death and the maiden related stuff I’ve read it’s one I’d recommend above others. 

•The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer hard pivot xd, these are very popular so I’m sure you’ve heard of them sci-fi futuristic fairytale retellings of Cinderella, Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel and Snow White primarily. It’s been literal ages since I read these (I remember anticipating the release of Winter in 8th grade and then lending it to my irl friend after I was done with it that long) but at the time I was so into them. I would definitely want to reread these before the animated series comes out (which I hope is successful not just because I’m fond of tlc and would like to see it adapted well but in a long-game sense I think more ya series adaptations should be animated series. More specific long game the tlc series doing well is how I eventually get a faithful Daughter of Smoke and Bone animated adaptation (delusionalcoded). Also, want to state for the record I thought Fairest slapped. 

•Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust I remember really enjoying it’s a Snow White retelling. I remember picking it up because I heard it was wlw Snow White but it was the Queen and the Princess character’s fucked up mother-daughter dynamic that made an impression on me over anything else in the book, and I remember they made me cry in a scene towards the end.

•When Water Sang Fire from The Language of Thorns by Leigh Bardugo. This was a collection of grishaverse fairytales she wrote and most of the stories I read and forgot about but this is the last one in the collection and it’s lived rent free in my mind since I’m not joking, I think the anthology is worth reading (if you like the grishaverse) solely for this one story. It’s inspired by The Little Mermaid and the character it’s most focused on is the Ursula character Ulla Morozova (yes Morozova as in half-sister to the Darkling) who is a song-caster/siren of sorts and it’s about her codependent homoerotic best friendship with another mermaid that ends tragically and is her villain origin story it had no right to make me feel as many things as it did, again after the previous stories were relatively mid (Leigh’s my bestie so I can slander her works that aren’t as good as what she’s capable of I have a right <3)  I was so caught off guard by how good it was. 

Tysm for asking <3

(ask me top 5/10 of anything)

[fictioninmyblood]

Sacred Light

Chapter 2

A/N: It was requested by @impremenior that I turn this into a series literally years ago. I never forgot sis! Soooooooooo sorry I'm just now getting back to this. IDK how long this chapter has been sitting in my drafts, but it is lightly proofread. I promise the next chapters will get more attention to the details. Thank you for supporting 🫶🏾

A/N: I have a hopeful heart so Erik is alive and redeemed. I also didn’t proofread cause I was trying to get all the thoughts out. Hope yawl like.

Summary: When the Jabari rejoined Wakandan society, it would seem as if Bast was intent on keeping the tribes joined. M’Baku succeeds in capturing the heart and soul of Wakanda’s most sought after hidden light. Part storm, part flower, and some kind of wild woman, Qaqamba Bejide Achebe - Ramonda’s orphaned niece who grew up alongside the Udaku’s, yet as much out of the spotlight as possible - blooms under the affections of Hanuman’s chosen chief. There is a prophecy tied to the Achebe name - their daughters are said to be blessed by every goddess with a light and love like no other, something late King T’Chaka knew to be true - a prophecy that makes them as much of a target as their light shines. And she, is the last of their line with the gift, with the brightest light since the line began. Can M’Baku protect such a sacred light?

Chapter 1

After the Dora Milaje escorted Adrian away, the royal family members made their way back to the festival, M’Baku and Qaqambe meandering behind them. When Queen Mother, Shuri, and N’Jadaka turned down a hall, Qaqambe pulled M”Baku in the opposite direction.

M’Baku welcomed her initiation of a private meeting, sensing that she needed to be the one to guide the speed of their relationship. As long as he could keep her in his arms and safe, she would get no protest from him.

Qaqambe’s entire body was buzzing with energy, fraying her nerves and pushing her toward an unknown location. She had no clue where she would end up with M’Baku, but she knew she needed to be alone with him and this newness. She needed the space to truly explore what she’d only ever seen, heard, and read about from her late mother, Aunt Monda and Uncle T’Chaka. Now, now she could experience it first-hand for herself. The first of many things she hoped to finally experience.

When they had made it to the opposite side of the palace from where the festival was being held Qaqambe made a left and down a set of stairs walking into the indoor swimming area of the palace, built off of a naturally occuring saltwater spring. M’Baku raised his eyebrows at Qambe, who had quickly stripped down to her underwear and jumped in, raising her eyebrows back in challenge to M’Baku from the water. 

M’Baku wasted not one more second standing there wondering how soft she’d feel up against him and stripped down so that he could feel for himself. He took a moment to really take the moment and his light in, she was quite literally glowing, emanating a soft light as she leaned back to float on the water with her eyes closed and a smile affixed firmly to her face. Wanting to see how playful she could be he dove in, arching up under her to pop up on the opposite side of her. 

She flailed into an upright position when M’Baku grazed his hands up her legs and starting tickling her once he got to her belly. Qambe accidentally splashed him a little harshly in an effort to escape and M’Baku took it as another challenge, immediately assaulting her with a tsunami of Jabari waves. 

“I submit!” Qaqambe yelled out as she struggled to regain her breath from laughing too hard and the friendly waterboarding. 

M’Baku stopped his antics and swept her into his arms, forcing her to wrap her arms and legs around him if she wished to remain comfortable. He nuzzled his face into her neck and slowly walked them to the stone steps leading to a small waterfall carved into the stone. After immersing them both in it, relishing in their shared playfulness a bit longer, he sat so that the waterfall protected them from any eyes that may come wandering in, only leaving the blur of their bodies and his feet hanging off the edge in sight.

They had barely spoken since their joining, but there was this comprehension and comfort she felt no words could describe. Yet with him no words were needed, as if they had suddenly started emitting thoughts and emotion and existence on the same frequency. He held her firmly to his chest, content to be her pillow, her protection, her provider for whatever she’d ask of him. She serenly sighed and wiggled her body to get closer as if it were possible to physically meld together as one. 

Neither of them knew how long they had stayed like that; M’Baku rubbing random patterns into the divots of her back and the top of her behind, Qaqambe massaging the base of his head with one hand and rubbing up and down his spine with the other. She had started softly humming an unknown song and he had gently rocked them. It could have been hours, it could have been an eternity and as far as either of them were concerned, it would never be enough. This new thirst for each other was a chasm never to be filled and always to be expanded. 

In the last few hours since she had met him, her desire to be with him and up under him, hear his voice, bask in his gaze, brighten under his smile, had already increased exponentially. Qaqambe now had the piece she’d been begging anyone who’d listen to her for and it was the most beautiful thing she could’ve prayed for. It left her speechless and breathless and overflowed with love that no word could ever truly display the magnanimity of what they were sharing.

At this realization, for a moment it made her heart heavy. She suddenly imagined her mother, her older sister whose memory was faded far more than that of her mother’s, her Aunt Ramonda and all of the women of her lineage that have been tracked down and robbed of something so precious and priceless. For centuries they have been kept from and robbed of this connection and imagining losing M’Baku specifically throughout time as if she were her ancestors and they were her killed her. She didn’t know why she chose to focus on such a negative aspect of her ancestry, but she couldn’t stop it now. “A warning to stay vigilant.” her mind fleetingly whispered.

Before he felt the first tear drops and heard the first sniffles from Qaqambe he started rubbing soothing circles in her lower back feeling a crushing weight fall onto her all of a sudden. Lifting her head up to meet his eyes he quirked up his eyebrows, asking what was wrong with his eyes. Her glow was quickly diminishing and he needed to fix that as soon as possible.

M’baku hugged her and then guided her through a few deep breaths. Once she felt she had her bearings, Qaqambe voiced her grief.

“I’m sorry–”

“Never apologize for genuine emotion little one.” 

“Okay. I just started thinking about how lucky I am to have this moment with you. Most of the women in my family have been on the run for the majority of their lives and never even got to experience meeting their keeper let alone getting to keep them if they did. Some, even had their keepers killed in front of them. A lot of them were captured and forced into marriages with vile men. My sister…,” she couldn’t do it, she still couldn’t say the words out loud, “...she left us altogether.”

M’Baku had a feeling that the more he learned of the journey that brought her to him, the harder it would get to not risk another civil war after building the tenious relationship to rejoining Wakanda. For her he would burn the entire earth to ashes, crumble it beneath his roars, freeze it with his ice cold rage, let alone Wakanda, if it meant destroying anyone or thing responsible for dimming Qaqambe’s light. He was definitely going to have to have a frank discussion with T’Challa so that extra measures could be taken.

Giving her waist a little reassuring squeeze M’Baku said, “tell me what I can do.”

The way she looked up at him in that moment nearly broke him.

“Do you mind maybe staying with me tonight? I’m really tired all of sudden and I really just want you to hold me. Please?” she rushed out, nervous to ask the Jabrai’s version of T’Challa to disregard any duty for the foreseeable 12-24 hour future for someone who’s basically a stranger.

M’Baku lifted her face to his when she tucked her head, letting her overthinking create unnecessary fear. Taking a chance, he kissed her softly, exploring the softness of her lips with his own. He wiped away any worry on her mind and knew he had succeeded when she opened her lips for more. Pulling away, “Absolutely, you just have to point me in the right direction,” he said as he grinned in triumph, he was going to take any small victory when it came to ensuring her care. “You just have to promise to come to my homeland on the morrow.”

It wasn’t long after she nodded her a[proval that the Dora guarding the halls of the palace couldn’t help but share mirroring smiles as they watched M’Baku and Qaqambe rush through the palace to her room half naked, wet, and giggling uncontrollably. M’Baku had refused to put Qaqambe down and nearly dropped her in his effort to grab their clothes. He conceded for only as long as it took for her to gather them before she was back in his arms bridal style. She had teased him about that and the wet trail they left behind the whole way she showed him to her room. His jovial laughter was the only response he could offer her.

By the time they made it to her room she was had become shy again, realizing the situation her forwardness had landed her in. “Do you wanna shower before bed?” Qaqambe asked when M’Baku had placed her on her feet once they crossed the threshold of her room.

“No, I’m ready to be cuddled against you without having to worry about moving for a while. If you have an extra towel to dry off though that’d be great.”

Qaqambe went into the bathroom and got two towels for them. She took a moment alone to pee and change into a lightly worn t-shirt and sleep shorts in her hamper. M’Baku was taking in the photos of her family when she returned with a towel and a pair of sleep pants N’Jadaka gave to her since he knew she liked oversized clothes. 

“Is there competition for your heart my love?”

Qaqambe was confused by his question until she realized how weird it was that’d she’d have clothing, especially clothing fit for him, readily available.

“Oh! No, when I want to feel all snuggly like on a rainy or snowy day, it comforts me to warm up big clothes and basically nest in them with freshly warmed sheets and comforters. That is why they’re called that isn’t it? Well, it’s as close to nesting a single human female can get. I’m gonna go get us some snacks and stuff while you change. Be right back.”

Before M’Baku could ease her nerves from whatever embarrassment she just felt, she was out the door pulling her robe on as she went. He made a mental note to remember to bring some of his clothing items he didn’t mind leaving behind. Knowing what he now did, M’Baku wanted to be a little selfish and make sure she smelled him next time she did that.

Just as quickly as she left, Qaqambe was back with two bowls of freshly popped popcorn, one spiced and the other sweetened, along with freshly brewed tea and cups on a tray. M’Baku had leapt from his waiting spot on her bed to take it from her. If the call of the bed and the impossibility of arguing with the chief weren’t so strong she’d have put up more of a fight. By the time kernels were the only thing left in the bowls and the tea warmed their bellies as whatever she’d put on the television lulled her to sleep, M’Baku was putting a plan into place to make sure that he could ensure a lifetime of the glow that had returned in their time together. He would learn the great library of her soul and train in the skills required to master each book to keep like this.

Next Chapter

[aces-drew]

Hi! I just wanted to drop in and say that I adore your two Nace fics so much to the point that I have probably reread them about 20 millions and if you ever want to write for them again I would be more than WILLING (and to tell my soul) to supply you with a slew of ideas because I have plenty <3 your writing is absolutely BEAUTIFUL!!!

hi anon, you have no idea how often i think of your ask and how much i've come back to it since you've written to me. i hope you're still around and still somewhat part of the nd fandom, and that the series finale was something you could enjoy and be satisfied w! truth be told i fell out of the fandom at the end of the third season, it was for a lot of reasons - personal and just the time passing, and with it also came half-baked word docs of nace fics i started but never really got around to finishing. and i never wanted to answer your high compliments with the answer of never considering to write for them again, and in all honesty i forgot my written drabbles in a folder on my laptop for the better part of the last two years. but i went through it on a whim today and actually found something i think is worth sharing, and since your message has stayed with me, i'm going to post it for you and you only, as both a thank you and im sorry i couldnt really give you more. writing for nace was one of my greatest joys in a truthfully very difficult time in my life, and im so glad it was as special for you as it was for me! so here's almost 5k of nace being in their pre-relationship, best friends in tension phase dated to the 21st of dec 2021 - it's certainly not my best work and may seem a bit half-baked, but there is so much love in it, and its happy and sad and hopeful all at once, and reading it again with fresher eyes, it would've been a shame for it to rot in my gdrive with no audience, so yeah thank you for reading this my dear anon. i hope you like it, take care!!

***

Ace let out a soft mumble of a curse under his breath.

‘Florence, this is not the time girl.’

The exasperation in his tone was refreshing to Nancy. Rarely was Ace ever off-centre; he was always the one who held down the fort, who grounded everyone, and especially her, to whatever it was they were working through at any given time. So the fact that car trouble was what got Ace ticking made her chuckle.

And among other things, she had to admit how adorable it was – his brows creased in annoyance, hands resting on his steering wheel, fingers drumming on the small surface in agitation. (Nancy tried to force herself to look away when her mind started to focus on how long and sturdy his fingers were in comparison to the lining of the steering wheel, ignoring the unnatural hike in her pulse).

Nancy observes his leg start to bounce restlessly in its place, his growing frustration rivalling Nancy’s ease. He looks at her through the rear-view mirror, sparkly blue eyes that seem to brace for her remark knowingly, ‘You’re not allowed to say I told you so.’

Nancy playfully clicks her tongue, ‘I told you so.’

He groans in response, but there’s only levity in his tone. When she looks at him amidst her unhelpful giggle, for the briefest of seconds, she sees a ghost of a smile on his lips.

‘Okay I’ve got Earnie on speed-dial, he should be here in like 45 minutes.’

He looks at her readily, waiting for her to take a jab at the fact that he’s on a first-name basis with the Horseshoe Bay’s finest mechanic and tower of cars, but she chooses not to indulge him.

With a small smile, she pulls out a pack of skittles and crinkles it open, offering him a hand-full of carelessly assorted yellow skittles in ceasefire. He looks at her in mocking question, ‘You think giving me my favourite colour of skittles is going to convince me into giving you a pass on the next 45 minutes where you tease me about this incessantly?’

Nancy smiles the brightest smile she can manage, teeth barred like a girl scout selling her cookies door to door, ‘Yep.’

He concedes, nonchalantly shaking his head and turning over the skittles from her hand to his, ‘You know me too well.’

(Nancy ignores the way he touches the pulse point on her wrist when he transfers the candy onto his own hand, how his fingers ever-so gently wrap around her entire wrist, electrifying the skin under his touch).

They sit there chewing in comfortable silence - on the candy as well as their thoughts; it had been a long day. They were heading back from another dead-end lead on de-tangling George’s soul from Odette’s, and though it had been a long shot, the sting of failure extinguishing the little hope that had slipped through to everyone in the group at the beginning of the day was subtly unrelenting. Nancy tried to keep the fear at bay, closing her eyes to refocus away from the painful pulses lightly throbbing at her temple. She couldn’t even think about reliving George’s death again, but the image of her bloodied body on the floor of the Claw re-emerges without permission, and along with it comes bile up Nancy’s throat.

In an attempt for comfort, she reminds herself of what George had to said to them when they regrouped at their cars to drive back to Horseshoe Bay, ‘I’m a fighter guys, and I live every day with intention, I’m happy and in love and I have no regrets. We’ll figure this out.’

She recalls George’s soft smile at Nick, her smirk at Bess when Addy asks for the two of them to carpool back alone together, her hugs for Nancy and Ace – she reminds herself how good it feels to relish in the warmth of her best friend. Taking a few deep breaths, Nancy wills for it to make her feel a bit better.

A gentle tap on her shoulder gets her to open her eyes again, and before she can turn to face Ace in question, she finds herself enamoured by the starry night sky looking down on her through the upper windshield. She wonders how she hadn’t yet noticed the glimmering specks of silver tattered against a canvas of cloudless navy blue, both beautifully and terrifyingly spanning the expanse of her entire eyeline, nestled between tall, dark oaks and pine trees on either side of the road they were currently grounded to.

‘You have to stop worrying about her, we’ll solve this too, we always do.’

That snaps her focus right back onto Ace, and she realises that despite the fairly long drive in darkness, the reason her attention had been obscured from the remarkable night sky was because it had been elsewhere, particularly on a concerning distraction that had been sat next to her this whole time.

She studies him, not rushing her response. She registers the way his lips have come into a fine line in resolve, starkly different to the smile lines that had lifted the plane of his cheeks just a few minutes ago, how the flecks of grey within his clear, sky-blue eyes zap like lightning, reflecting the twinkle of the stars above him – confident, persevering, determined. Her chest expands at how his expression still emanates warmth, a still of comfort when her mind is too convoluted to function, to find the gravity below her. Looking at him, she doesn’t necessarily blame herself for not noticing the night sky.

‘I hate that you can read me.’

She finds the grin in his eyes before his lips, ‘You have to stop being so predictable.’

She mock-scoffs at him, ‘Says the guy who knew his car was going to break down but was too stubborn to back down from subjecting it to a long road trip anyways.’

He takes his turn feigning hurt, ‘Touché.’ He chuckles, ‘Nancy – 1, Ace – 0.’

She sobers up at his still subtly insistent stare, he doesn’t want her to drop the subject just yet but he doesn’t ask again; his delicate push gets her primed enough to voice her thoughts, ‘I can’t watch her die again.’

She hates how her voice fails her, vulnerability and fear lulling her to a whisper, as if she’s afraid the universe will hear her. Ace responds with a shaky breath, returning to her gaze with the truths she’s been trying to convince herself with, ‘We’re trying our best. We’ll get there, and we’ll find what she needs.’

His eyes don’t waver from hers, ‘We can’t live in how her death is something we can’t avoid just yet, you heard what she said Nance, she’s living her best life day after day, and we owe it to her to do the same.’

He says his words with such conviction that Nancy lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, (she tries not to melt at how his nickname for her drapes itself so softly on his tongue). ‘None of us will ever give up on her, on any of us.’

She lets out a small smile in understanding, a tear escaping to her cheek before she’s able to get a hold of her glossy eyes. For a spilt-second Nancy sees his fingers reach out for her, possibly to wipe the tear away, but he stops himself, and Nancy tries to ignore the way her stomach hollows out at his reluctance. Instead, he gives a genuine smile in return. 

Before the slight awkwardness can stew between the two of them, Ace speaks up softly, clearing his throat, ‘Alright, come on.’

He gestures to the trunk of the car as he gets out of the driver’s seat, and open’s the passenger door for her to follow him; she wordlessly steps out despite her confusion. The cold wind hits her skin immediately, passing through the soft sleeves of her sweater as if they weren’t even there. She hugs herself, tracing her hands up and down her upper arms to create some insulation.

Ace opens up the trunk and unzips a large duffel bag, pulling out three blankets and two cushion pillows. Taking the especially woolly chocolate and cream checkered throw, he swings it over Nancy’s back and gently swaddles her, ‘Better?’

‘Better.’ She responds, warmth immediately encapsulating her. Before she can ask why they’re outside his car in uncomfortably cold weather, he explains, ‘The stars are out tonight,’ he says looking up, ‘I thought we could kill some time while we wait for Earnie, and a distraction wouldn’t hurt the both of us. Two birds, one stone.’

Nancy follows his eye-line and stares at the sky, ‘Definitely.’

Within five minutes, he lays out the largest blanket he has onto the hood of Florence and sets down the two pillows for them. Forgetting the added weight of the throw, she grabs his hand to get onto the surface, and predictably, loses balance almost immediately, tripping to fall face first right onto Ace’s chest.

Before Nancy settles into how mortifying it is, Ace’s arms instinctually wrap around her waist and secure them in place, his chest reverberating the chuckle he adds to the night air.

Her shoulders loosen, and Ace looks down at her with a smirk, a glint of mischief within those blue eyes Nancy adores, ‘Comfortable?’

‘Shut up.’ Nancy groans, and Ace readily manoeuvres her waist to help her rest next to him, the two of them fully laughing now. (She ignores the way his fingers come into contact with some bare skin on her hips when it happens, a result of her sweater hiking and the blanket falling on top of the both of them when she fell; she tries not to focus on the imperceptible movement of his thumbs against her exposed skin).

As they recover from their laughing fit and Nancy settles more comfortably onto her cushion, shoulder to shoulder with Ace, they both find themselves looking up at the incredible vastness above them. Away from the other’s gaze, and suddenly incredibly aware of how small they were in this expanse of time and space, Nancy feels almost blindingly comfortable with Ace, willing to tell him anything if he asked.

Ace seems to get the same idea, ‘Okay, game time. I give you a story and you give me one in return, could be prompted by a question if either of us have something specific to ask, but otherwise it’s free rein.’

Nancy considers the proposition – she supposes it is dangerous territory, and that she would be tiptoeing between everything she wants to disclose and keep hidden, especially because she was already so comfortable leaving her heart at her sleeve with Ace, but ultimately the urge to get to know Ace better wins her over.

‘Okay,’ she agrees, slightly hesitant, ‘But you start, since you clearly have something in mind.’

She sees him nod in her periphery.

‘My mom used to take me star-gazing to help with my anxiety,’ Ace says, his eyes focused on the sky. ‘I couldn’t sleep after what happened with my dad, and there were a good few weeks where he was comatose in the hospital, and I couldn’t get that image of him out of my head every time I closed my eyes.’

‘I stayed up for like four days straight after the accident, hopped up on energy drinks and just gaming or coding night after night, getting by on twenty minute naps that would just happen because my body was so exhausted,’ he sighs, seemingly disappointed in his younger self, ‘It wasn’t long before my mom noticed the bags under my eyes and asked me to explain myself - I just broke down, told her how his limp body was all I could see if I let my mind rest for even a second. That’s when she invested in Florence, a seemingly temporary rental at the time,’ he chuckles fondly, ‘and every night my dad stayed in the hospital after that, she took me up to the bluffs so that we could see the stars as clear as they were in Maine.’

She imagines a young Ace, so scared of his father not coming home that he wills himself to become his own problem, shielding himself the only way he knows how, and finding himself unwilling to depend on anyone, even as a child. Even though the irony of how similar they are is not lost on her, it hollows out Nancy’s chest.

She can’t also help but find small comfort in the karmic coincidence that the bluffs were somehow similarly significant in both their lives – a place rooted in contentment equally as much as trauma. Nancy wonders why fate sometimes writes in intricately entwining strings so cruel when it comes to her.

‘She pointed out all the constellations, and eventually I learnt them too, and her explaining everything would send me to sleep. It was a lot easier to close my eyes to the stars instead of a dark ceiling, and she always said ‘It’s okay to be afraid, but when you are, just look up, and you’ll be reminded of how vast and complicated this universe is. And if you can believe in that, you can believe that things will work out for the best’. And that hope? That hope has weirdly never really left me, no matter what’s happened since then.’ He finishes.

Nancy can tell that his voice is thicker, and she doesn’t push to ask him why he thought she should know something so intrinsic about him. She breathes it in nevertheless, savouring a piece of his past that has been delicately placed in her hands, an olive branch for her to know him better.

She decides to take him up on it and share something that’s been kept in the dustiest shelves of her own heart, ‘That day the Aglaeca came to claim us, I actually fell off the bluffs.’

Nancy feels him turn his face to her in surprise, the only thing she’d told them was that she’d almost tripped over - she’d never considered talking about the truth till now; she pushes on, talking at the stars, ‘I kept screaming for help, but obviously nobody came. I was meant to die there, just like my mother, and for a second, before my survival instinct kicked in, I almost let go��� almost wanted to let go,’ she feels her voice wobble, unable to carry the weight of her words, ‘I felt my own weight on my fingers, felt them give, and I was so tired, so I almost let go… instead of choosing to try and climb up.’

She had never admitted that to anybody, least of all herself, but it felt liberating to do so, to be overwhelmed in how enormous all her trauma seemed at the time, ‘I think it’s because I’d felt helpless for a long time, I didn’t know how to be somebody that other people couldn’t depend on, and I couldn’t get the conversation, or fight, we all had out of my head,’ she adds quickly, with a hollow, humourless chuckle, ‘but I did, I did climb up, and when I looked over at the sea, sitting there, all alone, I wasn’t necessarily glad that I had. I still felt empty, even when I knew we survived.’

Verbalising the last admission felt like a tonne of bricks on her shoulders, but it all came out in a few short breaths – like domino after domino falling in a way she couldn’t really stop once it started. She’d felt so small in the face of everything she’d been through, and even though she knew that life is always the right choice, and she’s convicted of that that definitively now more than any other time in her life, it wasn’t something that came intuitively to her that day. Her introspection is cut short when she realises that Ace has fully turned to face her now, and she struggles finding the courage to look at him.

When she does, the pain in his glassy eyes knocks the wind out of her, ‘Nance, I-I-, shit. I’m so fucking sorry Nancy.’

His voice breaks, faltering as he sits upright with his apology. She follows, sitting up cross-legged next to him, ‘Hey, hey,’ she insists, resting her arm on his bicep, willing him to look at her, ‘I wasn’t done… You know what helped me through that? What made me realise that it had obviously been the right choice?’

Ace’s stormy blue eyes look back at her, and he seems to recognise her desperation for levity, ‘Therapy?’

They both chuckle, cutting through a little bit of the tension, ‘Yes, of course therapy,’ she agrees, ‘but unlike therapy, this isn’t something I��ve had since I was eight.’

She takes a deep breath, hoping her persistent eye contact conveys the principle she that she grounds herself to, ‘It was all of you. Seeing you that day when I walked into the Claw that night? With Bess, and Nick and George? With your relieved smiles, and hugs that were insistent on making sure I knew how glad you all were that I was alive? That’s what rushed all that relief into my body. For a spilt second, the Aglaeca highlighted all of my trauma so that I couldn’t see through to the love I was given, and yes, it didn’t help that we were our worst selves that day, fuelled by fear and regret, but when I’d gotten back into my car and drove back to the Claw, I knew. I-’ she drew another breath, trying to gain coherence; there was so much she had to say about that night, so much she’d packed away into a tiny little box in her mind, ‘when I walked in that night, I knew that I’d made the right call, that from then on, whatever near-death experience I was going to get catapulted into, I would always choose to stick around.’

She could feel her throat closing up a little, her voice thickening, ‘The love that I’ve gotten from all of you, and now even Ryan, has changed my life, and it has forever changed the trajectory of who I am, and I whoever I’ll be, and that’s something I’m only grateful for. I know I don’t tell you all that enough, but seriously, I am so, so grateful.’

The tears fall down Ace’s cheeks freely now, and in the vortex of them under a beautiful night sky with their hearts strung out in the open and them alone in between the woods, his reservations seem to lower just enough. His other hand comes over the hand of hers that’s still resting on his bicep, and he intertwines his fingers with hers, a soft whisper following, ‘Still, I’m sorry, what we said was really fucked up, there really isn’t an excuse for it. We all made the decisions that got us to being prophesied to die that night, and it wasn’t you. Nance, you didn’t bring us to our deaths like lambs to slaughter, it was on us, we chose to be there.’

It’s his turn to pierce right through to her heart through his gaze, conviction steady in his words, ‘You are not a cause, and you are not an omen. You are anything but that. And honestly Nancy, I don’t even fucking know what I’d do with myself if we lost you that night.’

Nancy feels relieved in a weird way, the vindication is anything but hollow and ingenuine, it feels good. She laughs lightly, trying to mask a little bit of the subtle discomfort she feels; she knows the sentiment would be undeniably the same the other way around (except Nancy knows that’s partly also because she can’t really comprehend the enormity of what Ace means to her, how he was somehow so much more than a friend), the heaviness in his tone makes the implications of the statement much more intimate that she’s ready to decrypt. ‘Well at least George wouldn’t have died.’

And there it comes, that exasperated ‘Nancy, using humour to cope with your trauma is not funny’ face comfortably settling on Ace’s expression before she’s even done with her sentence. She chooses to laugh it off again (and pretends not to notice how Ace’s fingers tighten around hers perceptibly more).

Neither of them lets go of the other’s hand, and Nancy eventually lays back down on her cushion, with Ace following suite, ‘Okay on a lighter note,’ she refreshes, ‘where do you see yourself in 10 years?’

He hums in thought, ‘Uh, I don’t really know, haven’t thought much about it really.’

There’s an awkward hitch to his voice, and Nancy knows he’s picked up on her picking up on it, and he concedes into a slightly more nuanced response, ‘I’d like to have the standard stuff y’know?’

She looks at him pointedly, ‘The standard stuff?’

He avoids her gaze, ‘Yeah, the standard stuff. I’d like to be in love, and if I’m lucky, possibly even married. And yeah, eventually something like two kids, a white picket fence, y’know, the whole thing.’

The response surprises Nancy for some reason; it’s such an open admission of domesticity, and she unintentionally pictures herself with him in his ideal.

‘You think it’s dumb.’

She’s frayed from her thoughts, and registers that she’d been quietly daydreaming for embarrassingly longer than acceptable, and that Ace perceived it as the opposite of what she was currently thinking.

‘What?’ Nancy tries to steady her heart beating frantically in her chest, the enormity of mapping her entire future with Ace now settling swiftly on her shoulders.

‘Oh my god, you totally think it’s dumb.’

Nancy tries to think through what feels like her brain is melting, ‘I do not think it’s stupid Ace, come on. It’s endearing!’

He looks at her unconvinced. She tries to centre herself, refocusing from the image of two toddlers with his wonderful hair and her fiery eyes, she looks up and away from him again, ‘I’ve always wanted at least two kids too, I never had any siblings, and I’ve always thought that companionship is really important when you’re young. A boy and a girl… would be nice to have someday.’

When she meets his gaze, there’s something indecipherable about them. She tries to not to let how intensely he’s looking at her waver her in staring back at him (but it’s hard, she feels her stomach jump to her throat).  

The finally, he speaks, ‘At least two huh? Never pegged Nancy Drew for the big house, big family type.’

There’s a hint of an endearing tease that laces his tone, and she knows it’s meant to annoy her; she chooses instead to be honest, ‘Yeah, actually.’

A small smile of satisfaction finds her lips as Ace’s eyes widen for just a second, ‘You’re not the only one who wants the standard stuff y’know,’ she says, imitating the tone he’d used, ‘I would also really like to be in love, married even, and settle down. Maybe here, maybe somewhere else. Either way, I definitely do want a legacy. And what better legacy to leave than to love the people you love, maybe even slip into a life with that one special person I love and work to be with, and hopefully they’re a best friend and someone I completely depend on, and I’ll get to create a family with them someday.’

She places intentionality in her last sentence, letting Ace know that maybe this person she hopes to have all that with isn’t some far away concept, but the wonderful friend and companion she’s been able to completely trust and depend on these last few months. His eyes seem to darken as he processes her words, blue pushed to the edges of his irises; she gets the feeling that he might’ve picked up on the implication.

There was no doubt that they’d been recently tip-toeing around what their friendship was evolving into; between Nancy recovering from the Wraith, Ace getting kicked out and Amanda breaking up with him, they’d both changed into such different people in just a few weeks.  They’d both seemed to realise that though their entire worlds had shifted axes, the two of them were the same – they were Nancy and Ace, detective and hacker, a mind racing a hundred miles per hour paired with a rational, calm decision maker, a comet free orbiting in space and the sun’s gravity that grounded it, two best friends. They were comfortable here, safe in the boundaries of their friendship that was a little more than friendship, in confessions through glances and grazes, where the fear of having to figure out how they fit with each other, who they were and what they wanted was too scary for them to consider. For now, the implication was enough.

‘Yeah,’ Ace seemed to agree, his voice a little dreamy, ‘someday.’

[my-opinions]

(I could go into extreme detail on why Ferrari and Red bull are complete opposites but the exact same but now is not the time) // I'd love to read your opinion on this 😊

Sorry this is late. Exams have been kicking my ass 🥹 This is my opinion so you are allowed to disagree with literally anything I said. Discourse is a way to progress. Also this is based on purely what I have seen as a fan, I have 0 clue how these teams function in reality.

To look at them individually, Ferrari is this historic team which you just can’t help but root for. In everything they do passion bleeds into it. Its pain, its beauty, it sings songs of hope that eventually the championship will return home. Ferrari is broken and bruised but they keep returning for something better; to fill a gaping hole in the Tifosi’s heart.

Red Bull is completely opposite, they don’t care about anyone or anything. They are the bastards of F1 if you will. They will admit to messing up, but then just move on like nothing happened. They aren’t there to please anyone, they are there to win and party. “They exist as a fuck you toward to the world” – Quote by someone, I forgot their name.

But then looking at them in unison, all they want to do is win. Not make money or develop technology, win. Maybe who they are winning for is different (Red bull is winning for themselves while Ferrari is winning for the Tifosi and their legacy), but I feel like the yearning for success is greater than all the other teams combined.

If you look at all the other teams on the grid, everything they do is so clinical. Like they feel like a business; that they must just sit around and work. But for Red Bull and Ferrari, they feel like teams. They would put everything on the line just for 0,1 s speed down the straight.

Red Bull and Ferrari just have a NEED to win, that’s what motivates them. There is so much passion for racing, for the sport and for their teams, that other’s don’t have. McLaren could easily lean into the whole historic side of the team, but they don’t. The focus more on marketing and other series. Mercedes wants to win, so that Hamilton can win his eighth, that’s it. They want to win because they’re embarrassed for losing.

Sebastian is one of the greats which is why there are very few teams that can captivate Sebastian Vettel the way these two have. Seb  didn’t change from when he went from Red bull to Ferrari, his spirit stayed the same. He carries both of them with him today.

Anyways most of this is based off vibes alone, but if I had choice of any team on the grid to work for, I would chose one of them. They have unbreakable spirits.

I hope I’ve explained myself properly, or in a way that makes sense to you. If you have any comments/questions/altering opinions, please let me know ☺️ I find this fascinating

Also sorry this is really long 😅

[readyforthegarden]

2022 Writer’s Tag.

I think it might be fun to look back on what we’ve all achieved this year, let you give yourselves a well deserved pat on the back and also share what you love. When you’re done maybe tag someone else so they can share too?

1. How do you feel 2022 has gone in terms of writing?

On one hand really well!! On the other hand, looking at all my WIPs and drafts.....not as well as I hoped? But I'm so astounded that I haven't been writing a full year on here and it's taken off and so many people like it!

2. What piece are you proudest of this year? It can be a shot/blurb/headcannon, a whole series or even a specific chapter.

AHHHH!! This is so hard...I think I'm really proud of Summer in the City. It was something I'd never really written before, and I stressed about making sure the details for the time period was right. I would love to go back one day and rewrite it and improve it, but it's my baby and I'm really proud!!

3. Is there anything you posted that you wish had reached more people? (No such thing as a flop here!) Shout it out, it might catch a new pair of eyes!

Mmmm, I try not to focus on numbers too much, I don't want to take away from the happiness I find in writing, but most Danny fics don't get the recognition they deserve in general, and a lot of times Sam fics don't. And this Jake fic which I forgot and just realized isn't on my masterlist (18+ ONLY)

4. Can you give us a hint of anything coming before the end of the year? Maybe even a little taster?

Oh, I'll tease the Jake holiday fic coming out this friday, since we don't have much else before the year ends

“I am sleepy.” you replied. “It’s been a long day. Fun, but long.” Jake smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“It’s been a perfect day.” Jake adjusted his position, sliding down so you both were laying down and you snuggled into his chest.

5. Are you setting any writing goals for next year, or just going with the flow? If you are, what are they?

I have my Josh fic, A Novel Idea, coming out, and it's gaining speed in my doc for it, so it should be out fairly early, but honestly I just like going with the flow. If I get an idea, I shove it my drafts and work on it when I feel like it. @lunaindigoraven and I literally talk all the time about ideas and she's truly a great friend and helps me workshop things. Sometimes we're just talking and then it's like OOH that's a fic! and I also really love writing little blurbs from prompt lists, it's really fun and great writing exercise!

6. Do you have any one shots or finished pieces you’re tempted to expand on or revisit next year?

I have a few one shots I have a part two for in the works, no clue if they'll get done next year...again I might play around with Summer in the City and expand it.

7. Is there anything new you’re tempted to try out? A new style/trope/AU/another person in the fandom?

I have a couple AUs in the works, soulmate, supernatural, and i'm trying to work out the kinks in another historically based fic!

8. Now to hype some other writers! What’s a piece you read back in the first half of the year that you can shout out?

Always the first on my mind is A Tattoo Artist Walks into a Flower Shop by @garagebandvanfleet it's my favorite Danny fic EVER.

And then the Indecent Proposal fics by @gretavanfleetposts got me through a rough patch back in the spring and took my mind off a lot and they're AMAZINGLY written (so is the rest of Em's work!!!)

9. And how about something you’ve read more recently?

This isn't news to anyone following me for the past month, but Perfidy by @earthlysorrows is phenomenal!!!! and Valence by @gretavanfleetposts is wonderful and they're both such amazing and immersive stories!! @jake-kiszkas-smirk has quite a few amazing fics (babes, I have so many of your fics in my drafts to save to read/react/reblog if it seems like I'm not in there I AM!!) and honestly, not doing bc they tagged me, The Dead Don't Die, Jake Kiszka by @highdefkiszka Percy writes so descriptively and you can really feel the characters emotions and feelings!!

10. A fun one to finish...If you could insert yourself into any fic in the fandom, which would it be and what do you think would happen?

Oh god...oh...this is so hard omg....you know what, I wanna be in Perfidy. Madi insert this reader. I wanna be the lovable normal neighbor who notices all the magic but is just like eh none of my business and has a big fat crush on the guy who water bends and bakes him cookies and treats "just because" 😌😉 and then I think Madi would kill me off (lovingly and hopefully dramatically) for the angst.

I was tagged by the wonderful and incomparable @highdefkiszka and I am tagging anyone who wants to do this bc I think everyone else has already done it!!!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

I’m speed typing this so I can go read that one shot ASAP SHSHSHSHSH I saw your post about the word count LAMOAOA hoping this doesn’t come at any (or any big) cost to you but I kinda live for when your word count goes way beyond expectations HAHAHA like that’s how I know Mira is cooking a five star meal…..

Bro Rika’s page threw me for a loop like wdym implied murder of her parents??? And all this other interesting info…

FR!! It’s honestly hard to find any constructive criticism for any big series because all the discourse is drowned out by hate train bandwagon hoppers etc

Wait yeah you’re so right because why do I have to wait for an interview to understand what’s happening?? So frustrating especially since those not in Japan don’t have easy access to interviews usually either…also the fact that it took them SO LONG to confirm it’s been like three years??

And ugh in the same boat :(( It’s so popular that whenever a chapter comes out it floods all my feeds but I’m def not actively looking for chapter links…

OO I SEE WHAT YOU MEAN!! I think it’s because as you said Rin’s so invested in soccer right now as his motivation and goal in life but sae has kinda already figured out his role in soccer ish..? Like how he now knows he’s trying to be midfielder but also maybe something about him already having secured a role in a club outside and has a career makes it feel a bit different…

Ugh TABIEITA COMEBACK WHENNN (speaking of did you see the newest panels?? There was like one Karasu one but he looks good LMAO) and I MISS THE SMIRK where’s my cheeky dude….s2 please hurry…

And OUU TRUE!! I completely forgot about the order thing?? I was always a little confused like was it really one by one and how long did they have to wait for the next person to go in??

Glad you’re feeling better!!! Honestly yeah allergy meds are so debilitating sometimes like if I know I need to be awake or have something scheduled it’s like…lemme take half a dosage because I need to be AWAKE LMAO

OK GOODBYE OFF TO READING WILL BE BACK WITH COMMENTARY!!!!

-Karasu anon

AHHH i’m just a chronic rambler so i always end up writing way more than i plan to but no it’s not at any cost to me!! it actually makes me happy to see smth i’ve written getting to be a high word count hehe. the only ‘cost’ ig would be that it takes a bit longer before i can post but as long as you all are willing to wait i don’t mind writing lots (plus then i feel less bad about randomly disappearing and taking writing breaks because i’ve left a lot to be enjoyed LMAO)

SO MUCH STUFF AND NONE OF IT WAS ELABORATED ON!! and yeah even legit criticism or analysis gets put down as hate and people jump on people who do that when they’re just examining the story with a constructive lens. i agree that interviews absolutely should not be how you convey key info!! especially because they’re SO unreliable and so easy to twist. like people will make up a headcanon and say that the author said it in an interview and it’ll become so popular that everyone accepts it as fact even though there’s no source for it and it literally never happened?? i can’t think of specific examples but i know this happened a LOTT with the attack on titan fandom back in the day and i’m sure it happens w jjk as well.

YES I AGREE sae has like established himself almost?? he’s not striving for anything anymore and he’s been recognized by some of the best strikers in the world (ex luna from the world 5) + he’s a ng11 so it just feels to me like he’s kinda relaxing?? he has the time to think about other things just not the motivation/will, but it’s easier to write him gaining an interest in someone than justifying rin giving up on the pursuit of his goal for another person. i also really like to write love interests that are down BAD (or end up being so anyways) which would make sense w sae being lonely in a foreign country more than rin who would prioritize soccer over everything (as he did in cherry tree when he told y/n to come back to him after the world cup or smth like that iirc)

I DID SEE KARASU!! one thing abt pxg vs bm he’s been having a panel or two per chapter which has been rlly nice. we got to see his smirky little icon at least?? i miss tabieita being together and karasu being a jackass though…forever heartbroken that nagireo got to be the headliners or a team instead of tabieita…MISSED OPPORTUNITY 😭💔

i think it was probably not one at a time — there were probs multiple fields, but i doubt they had 300 that they could use so everyone could go at once!! they probably had like 10 (arbitrary number) and as people were finishing other people would enter, so someone like kiyora might’ve just entered in an earlier round than karasu, who probably waited a bit to feel out the situation or smth. shidou was probably too busy being up to random nonsense to go early which is why he was like 111 despite being bllk’s number 2 😭

I’M EXCITED TO READ THE COMMENTARY HEHE LET ME RESPOND TO THAT RN 🫡

[callsigndragon]

Miscommunication | Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x fem!reader

A/N: To the beautiful nony that requested this THANK YOU! It was really a challenge to write another enemies to lovers for Hangman when i'm writing my own seried A Rebel In My Soul (here's the link to chapter 1 if you want to read it) with him as well. I don't know how to feel about this but I hope you like it! <3

Warnings: misCOMMUNICATION (really, a lot), friends to enemies to lovers, swearing, Hangman being Hangman, one (1) suggestive comment at the end. (if i forgot something please fo tell me)

Masterlist

Being Hangman's best friend during your adolescent years was easy. He was always there for you. You don't have a single memory from high school in which he wasn't present. Always smiling, teasing you, protecting you from the world.  

When the both of you entered the Naval academy, however, things changed. You were better than him on some aspects and he was jealous. Your friendship was seriously damaged to the point that you two couldn't be in the same room without arguing.  

You would be lying if you said that you hated him. You loved him with all your soul. And not only as a friend. You had loved that man since the first time you two had crossed paths. Honestly, you couldn't imagine your life without him. 

Sadly, you had to live without him because, as much as you loved Jake, he had turned into a complete arrogant that was nothing like the man you knew. He worked hard to beat you in every single aspect in which you beat him. He liked to tease you about how you were always in the second place. It ended up with you screamed at him to never talk to you again.  

And he never did.  

Now, you’re here at Top Gun. You’ve been admitted in the 13-week program. You’ve never been happier. You walk in the base, observing the photos of previous generations in the wall. You’re sure you can find some of your teachers if you look close enough.  

“Y/n?” you hear someone calling you.  

You know that voice. Is the voice that calmed your nerves before a test in high school. The voice that made you laugh in class, getting scolded by the teachers. The same voice that made your heart flutter when he called your name.  

You turn around, jaw clenched and arms crossed. “You gotta be kidding me”  

“They really let anyone enter here” he mocks walking closer to you.  

“I know, right? I thought this was exclusive but here you are” you look up at him, to those green eyes that so many years ago were your safe place. Not, they don’t feel that welcoming anymore.  

“Well, I guess we know who’s gonna be the second place, right sweetheart?” he said, patting your shoulder.  

“Don’t call me sweetheart” 

“You used to like that”  

“And I used to tolerate you but things change” you turn around, leaving him in the hallway. 

However, as weeks pass, you two are paired in several exercises, having to talk to him even if you don’t want to. He is still the same arrogant idiot from Naval academy, but he tries to be less cocky around you.  

Today, you’re practicing a course in between mountains. High speed and several turns. It’s a recipe for disaster. You are following Hangman, he’s team leader for this exercise. He is not talking to you and you know the instructors will be really pissed about it when you get off the aircraft. One important thing about this program is communication between team partners. And you two seem to be the only ones having a problem with that.  

Just when you’re about to remember him that this is a team exercise, you see Hangman pulling up turning to the left really fast. He doesn’t tell you why but you understand the reason soon enough. There's been a landslide, and the field is different from the one you saw in the map this morning. You follow him, turning without any damage in your aircraft.  

“You know there’s a radio for you to communicate with me, right?” you say, annoyed by his lack of communication.  

“You just need to follow me, I'm the leader” he answers.  

“Yeah, and a leader communicates with their team. Is that hard to understand?” 

“Don’t see the need to if you follow all my movements”  

“You really don’t get it” you let out a dry chuckle, exasperation running through your veins.  

“What? You miss the sound of my voice or something?” 

“Jerk”  

“Care to explain what the fuck is your problem, lieutenants?” you hear the voice of your instructor from the radio and you know you’re fucked. “Come back immediately. 100 push-ups once you’re off the aircraft”  

“This is what you get when you communicate” murmurs Hangman, but it’s loud enough to be heard by everyone.  

“Want them to be 200, Hangman?”  

“I apologize, sir” he replies quickly, turning his aircraft around.  

21. 22. 23. 24...  

“You should be the one doing push-ups, not me” you say, face fixed on a point in the tarmac.  

“You were the one that wanted to talk to me, sweetheart”  

“Don’t call me sweetheart”  

“What should I call you then? Lieutenant L/n?” he says with a mocking tone. He's getting on your nerves. 

“You know, you were nicer in high school”  

“And you were the one to choose to scream at me in a locker room instead of telling me that all the jokes I made were hurting you. Who’s got a communication problem now, huh?” you try to answer but he gets up the floor and leaves you.  

You don’t talk to him after that, and the instructors now better than to put you two together again. It hurts, actually, to have him again in you life but being unable of having a normal conversation. You wish things could be like all those years ago. The problem is, and you need to understand it, that both of you had change since high school. It’s not the same as it was, and it will never be.

Five days after the fight in the tarmac, you are grabbing your things from the locker after a long day when you hear his steps approaching you. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever it is about to come. He turns around until he finds your figure and walks closer, stopping behind you.  

“Y/n” he calls. You don’t move, still retrieving your belongings.  

“Y/n” he says again, this time you can feel the exhaustion in his voice. “Y/n, c’mon” you continue to ignore him, closing your locker and turning to leave without looking at him in the eye. However, you don’t make it too far before he grabs your wrist and turns you around, his body so close to yours that you end up against the lockers. “It’s been five days since the last time you spoke to me and it’s driving me fucking crazy. Talk to me, yell at me, scream at me, do whatever you want but please. Please talk to me”  

It takes every ounce in your body to not look up at him. Your heart it’s beating like crazy and all those feelings that you thought were gone are coming to light. They weren’t gone, just hidden. 

“I lost you once, I don’t wanna lose you again” he whispers, his hand slowly reaching up to touch your cheek. He lets his hand in the air for a few seconds, a silent question behind his actions. He’s waiting for you to pull back if you don’t want to be touched. He could be a jerk, but he would always ask before doing anything that could make you feel uncomfortable.  

You don’t move away and he lets out a shaky breath when his fingers brush your cheek. It's been years since the last time you were this close. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. “Talk to me, sweetheart”  

“I hate you” you mutter while opening your eyes, a single teardrop falling from your eye. He wipes it with his thumb.  

“No, you don’t” he whispers, his forehead against yours.  

“No, I don’t. I couldn’t hate you even if I tried. I thought you were laughing at me with all those jokes”  

“I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. I’m never going to be able to change the past but I want to make things right and be part of your future” he pulls back, raising your head with his hands to make you look him in the eye. His eyebrows are pulled together, his mouth closed in a tight line, his mouth corners drawn downwards. He means it. He really means it.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you those jokes hurt me, Jake. You’re not the only one to blame here”  

“I honestly don’t care about who has the fault. I just want to be with the girl I’ve loved since high school” he admits with a beautiful shy smile.  

“I love you too, Lieutenant” you say, returning the smile.  

“Using the ranks now, are we?” he laughs. “In that case...” he stands at ease, smiling. “Lieutenant, permission to kiss you?”  

You giggle, not believing how you’ve been angry with this goofball for years. “Permission granted”  

He grabs you by the neck, pulling you towards him and kissing you like you’re the air he breathes. You put your arms around his shoulders, trying to bring him even closer. He smiles against your mouth, and you swear you’ve never been happier.  

“We need to work on our communication skills, you know” you say against his lips.  

“Oh, I know a perfect place to practice” he states, lifting you and carrying you princess style towards the exit.  

[frobby]

Manwhas/mentions I like

No home

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 

This is obligatory at this point tbh. I fucking love this shit. 

Haejoon Goh has been bulied his whole life basically for his mom being real weird and claiming she can see ghosts. As hes moving to the dorms of his new school with his life savings it gets stolen by eunyung baek. After he figures this out he goes and confronts eunyung who has already spent all his money. They get into a fight and haejoon accidentally ends up in the hospital and misses the dealine for entering into the dorms and has to move into the abbandoned dorm of the school with another student. This student just so happens to be eunyung baek which as you remember stole haejoons fucking money. 

Like i said this is so fucking good. Please read it. Any reservations you may have should be tossed aside. Think its too scary cuz of ghosts? The ghosts arent in it that much. Art style weird? You’ll warm up too it, its very dynamic with color choice. Think it doesnt sound interesting  or comedic? This is a drama and filled with angst and is extra sad. DO IT NOW GUYS PLEASE IM BEGGING AT THIS POINT 

Eleceed

This is prolly the most popular here so ill keep it brief. 

Jiwoo seo is special. He has the power of super speed. Due to this abnormality hes kept it a secret his whole life. One day he picks up an injured cat which turns out to be the extremely famous and dangerous awakener kayden break who turned into a cat to protect himself and doesnt have enough power to turn back. Kayden tells jiwoo about awakeners which is people with powers like jiwoo and agrees to train him.

This is a really fun series. I love the found family and kayden and jiwoo’s father son dynamic. The battles are really dynamic and interesting. The world building is interesting too. (also kayden is hot lmao) its on webtoon but the unofficial translations are ahead by like 40 chapters so 

Papa wolf and the puppy(king of wolves)

Okay so this is lowkey the funniest shit ever and allow me to explain why: this started with a wolf and a puppy hanging out in the forest and then RANDOMLY the author did a human au and a few chapters later started a newass story where they’re human and its an ex gang boss raising a little kid he found in the fucking woods he was hiding out in. 

Its really cute. Im always a big fan of adults adopting little guys and raising them to be better than them(kayden and jiwoo). I like all the characters and i love that the kid is named potato. Very very cute 

(oops i messed up this is chinese im sorry) 

Dam of the Forest

Read this if you want to be fucking sad 

Dam had a strange power to make things grow. Plants and even people grow when he touches them. As he gets older he stays the same size and no longer ages. His powers get stronger and eventually he secludes himself in a forest for a very long time. He them comes across a group of travelers who tell him that the world has turned into a wasteland other than this forest due to pollution. 

Like i said its really really sad. Its not that long so far so im excited to see how it develops. Idk what else to say other than if u wanna read something sad go for it.

Phantom School

This is a bit of a shot in the dark but still. 

Ingan kim was given a job as a teacher just as he wanted. However the school he goes to teach for is a school for phantoms and if they find out hes a human they’l kill him. Having to keep this a secret and keep his nerves under wraps turns to be quite difficult for him along with educating the young undead. 

Imma be honest this premise is an A+ for me. Obsessed. But otherwise the storytelling is very interesting to me but its also rather short so far but im very invested. (my only complaint is one of the translations i was reading did my least favorite thing manwha translations do where they change the korean names to english ones halfway through) 

Man Drowning in a veil

I literally love this shit so much that i almost forgot about cuz i havent finished it lmao 

(bear in mind the translation i read actually used japanese names so sorry if u use those rn) 

Aimu is an extremely tall, big man but despite his towering stature he loves all things pink and cute. A true king if you will. However one day an extremely rude classmate tells him that everyone finds him weird and gross for his interests which makes him shut them down completely only dressing in black and such. Untill one day he meets kohaku who is the owner of a stuffed animal shop that quickly befriends him seeing his underlying interest in her wares and wants him to embrace his interests more. 

Kohaku is the girlboss to aimus malewife. Im sorry. In all seriousness this tackles the ideas of self expression and the breaking of gender roles. The characters are funny as hell and i like all of them a normal amount. 

EXTRA: just for fun 

This isnt a manwha its japanese but idk when else to talk about it so what are you gonna do about it its my post 

Ake no tobari 

Ive been reading this recently and i really like it. Its implanted itself so badly in my brain that when my friend and i went to see doctor strange (neither of us knew anything about btw please dont ask) this is what i was thinking about 

Tobari is a demon that love humans and wants all humans and demons to live peacefully and be friends. To do this go goes to shinonome village where his old friend sayuri lived to start his bloodless conquest of the demon world. There he meets reimei a barrier artist and the towns exorcist who keeps the demons in line and they quickly become friends. 

The fights are really good and i like the characters. The world building is easy to understand and they characters have fun dynamics with eachother. I binge read like 170 chapters which out getting bored which is a feat. overall full marks no complaints. 

[cjsinkythoughts]

Rocks, Shoulders, and Ears

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3501

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Major Angst in this one, guys, Loads of Feels (sorry not sorry), John Walker being a douche (I really don’t like the guy)

A/N: I’m SO SORRY! I promise I was planning on it being shorter, but I went a little overkill with the angst! There’s just so many feelings and not enough space in my heart and soul, so I had to pour them out here! You get to see more of Reader and Sam’s relationship in this one and there’s major Bucky Feels towards the end (in my defense, this is based on the Couples Therapy half of the episode).

I’m really hoping we get to see Bucky go to Louisiana next episode! I’m holding out for it! I have a few ideas that include Sarah, but I need the episode! Ugh! Now we have to wait a whole ‘nother week! I really shouldn’t write three chapters on one episode in one day. I just couldn’t help myself!

Anyways! Please enjoy this part and thank you so much for all your support! Seriously, it’s meant so much to me, especially after the week I’ve had! If you haven’t checked out the previous parts, my FATWS Series Masterlist is HERE, so please go read those first. Like always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Enjoy, babes!

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The last thing you remembered was falling asleep in Bucky’s arms after walking a few miles. And a hospital in DC wasn’t exactly what you preferred waking up to, but it’s what happened. Turned out, not only was your shoulder dislocated and your thigh was strained, but you had a mild concussion. Your arm was in a sling and your palm, which you had completely forgotten about after you wrapped it while on Bucky’s back, was wrapped properly. Luckily, your thigh wasn’t too bad, but they wanted to put you on crutches, which you refused immediately.

You had to get out of that building. You had no idea where the guys went, which was weird because you were sure they’d never leave you alone. Especially in a hospital.

You quickly snuck your way through the halls after grabbing your bag which - thank God - was left on the seat besides your bed and changing into an extra pair of clothes. 

You tried calling Bucky’s phone, the one he had specifically for you, which he always always answered. He even made an excuse to go to the bathroom once when you accidentally called in the middle of a therapy session. Nothing. You called the number four times before trying Sam’s phone.

It clicked on the first try.

“Hey. Listen, sorry for leaving-”

“Where the hell are you?”

You heard him sigh. “I was just about to explain, so hang on a second there. You weren’t waking up, probably because that concussion you forgot to mention to us-”

“In my defense, I didn’t know.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You rolled your eyes, throwing your free hand up, exasperated. “Anyways, Bucky wanted me to meet someone, we’ll talk about that when you inevitably get here, put we had a bit of trouble and Bucky was arrested-”

“What?!”

“Chill your pants, Y/L/N. Just listen. We’re in Baltimore. I’ll text you the address. Get here soon and I’ll explain the whole thing. We’ve been here for a couple hours, but there’s people on their way and we’re getting everything situated right now.”

“Okay. Fine. But you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t I know it, babe. Now hurry your cute little ass here. We’ve got stuff to talk about.”

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

The ride from DC to Baltimore is usually an hour or so, but you’ve got resources, especially in the nation’s capital, and riding the bike you got, being able to go way over the speed limit? You got there in half the time. Being an Avenger really does have its perks.

The moment you got there, you hopped off the bike, not even bothering to turn it off, and stormed into the precinct. You headed straight over to the desk, but a pair of hands caught you by your uninjured arm before you could make a scene.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam spoke softly, squeezing your bicep gently. “He’s okay, alright?”

“Why is he-”

“He missed his court-mandated therapy session.” Sam informed you, pulling you over to where he had been sitting previously. “There was a warrant out for his arrest. They had to bring him in, but it’s fine. His therapist’s been contacted. She should be here any minute to get him out.”

Your head fell back at his words. His therapy. How could you forget? You let Bucky complain to you about it and played along sometimes, but you really did think it was good for him and you tried supporting him. Yet you made him miss it and now he’s in trouble.

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me.” You found Sam’s worried eyes, his hand coming up to hold the side of your neck. “He’s okay. He’ll be out in just a bit. It’s fine.”

“It’s my fault, Sam.”

“No. It’s not. He’s a grown ass man who made the decision to skip.”

You shook your head, holding his wrist for something to anchor you down. “No, Sammy. I brought him along. I should’ve been more responsible-”

“I know we’ve joked around about you being in charge and stuff, but…you know it’s not all on your shoulders, right?” Sam tilted his head slightly, eyebrow pinched in confusion making his eyes narrow. 

You turned your head, not wanting to look at him. You didn’t need another set of deep eyes to fall into. “Sammy…I promised him I’d look after you.”

“I know. And that’s fine. But looking after us - looking after him - doesn’t mean you have to be there to hold his hand and take the fall for him. He’s not a child. Hell, he’s a hundred years old. Tell me you understand that.”

Licking your lips, you closed your eyes and shook your head again. “I-I can’t-”

“Is that why you’re obsessed with finding Wanda?”

You frowned at his question, eyes snapping to his. “I’m worried about her, Sam.”

“I am too, but she can handle herself. And if she doesn’t want to be found, you have to let her be. I know the Avengers were your only family. I know how much Steve meant to you-”

“No.” You pulled away rather harshly, digging your nails into your palms, trying not to cry, ignoring the wound you were irritating. “No, you don’t. How could you understand my feelings for Steve when I don’t understand them myself?”

Sam always had this ability to make anyone feel important, just by looking them in the eye. It was something you always admired about him; the way his smile could light up a room, those warm eyes making everyone’s fears go away. They reminded you of hot chocolate. Something that could soothe your worries, comfort you, warm your very soul from the ice tragedy and heartache tend to big on.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of people, but with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to keep the tears from slipping.

“You loved him, Y/N. Why is it so hard for you to see that?”

“I didn’t - I wasn’t in love with him, Sam.” You argued, wiping your cheeks aggressively and turning, crossing your arms defensively.

“What do you call it then?”

It was a rhetorical question, Sam copying your movements and sitting straight to watch for Bucky coming out. A rhetorical question that you didn’t know the answer to. Because you weren’t in love with Steve. No. Maybe you had been, but somewhere along the way he passed your heart to Bucky. So why did it hurt so bad?

You refused to dwell on it anymore, clearing your throat and dabbing at your eyes one more time before changing the topic. “Why are we in Baltimore?”

“Bucky wanted me to meet someone. Isaiah. You know him?” Sam turned back to you, his warm eyes shifting into something else. Suspicion? A bit of anger? Annoyance? You couldn’t tell.

“Isaiah? I don’t think I know any Isaiahs. And definitely not here. Why? Who is he?”

Sam shook his head, eyes darting around the lobby. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You nodded, although now your curiosity had peaked and you wondered who this guy was that made Sam so agitated. While you waited, you felt your eyes drooping and you let your head fall onto Sam’s shoulder, who chuckled.

“You’re still tired? You know you slept for, like, twelve hours, right?”

“I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Sam turned his head to kiss yours. “Y/N, I know you want to care for everyone, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” And with that, the subject dropped, Sam pulling out his phone while you rested your eyes.

It was another ten minutes or so before Sam’s name was called and the both of you stood up to greet the speaker. A woman, Dr. Raynor. Bucky’s infamous therapist.

And speaking of infamous. The moment you heard his voice, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it was just your brain malfunctioning. And then he was walking towards you, calling Bucky ‘Bucky’ like they were old pals and he was saving him from something terrible.

Your face scrunched up as Walker talked about stopping Bucky’s regular therapy sessions. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up-”

“Don’t call him an asset.” You snapped. “He’s a human being with needs, and therapy-”

“He’s a super soldier with skills that we need.” Walker cut in, making you scowl as he turned back to Raynor.

You scoffed in disbelief at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before he did, heading straight for Bucky, who lifted his right arm, wrapping it around your shoulders once you were close enough.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, closing your eyes and trying to relax in his hold, breathing him in.

“Are you? Should you be walking? What did-”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Promise.” You sighed out with a nod, squeezing him once more before pulling back as Raynor stepped forwards, ordering Bucky and Sam to do a session with her. You almost laughed when Sam tried refusing, a little chuckle actually leaving your lips when Bucky slumped, dragging his feet like a kid going to the principal’s office.

You followed, Bucky holding the door open for you. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Of course, doll.” He gave a small smile, before walking in after you, Sam letting out a, “hey!” when Bucky shut the door on him, making you roll your eyes. You let the corners of your mouth tick up slightly in amusement. Yes, they annoyed the hell out of you, but you had to admit it was pretty funny sometimes.

“I believe I asked for James and Sam, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“It’s Agent, actually, and I think I’m gonna sit in.”

Raynor narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think-”

“That wasn’t a request.” You threw her words to Sam back at her, making Sam smirk. You shot him a wink as she relented with a sigh. 

“Fine. Just as a spectator. Don't interrupt.”

You raise your hands in surrender, slipping around the table to stand in the corner as your fellas sank down into the seats across the table from her.

A small puff of laughter came from you at the lack of response when she asked one of them to start. She shot you a warning look over her shoulder, but you shrugged. You couldn’t help it; it was like all those times back in grade school when a teacher asked for a volunteer to read in a classroom full of rowdy kids and crickets followed.

Once she mentioned the next exercise was used for couples, you had to laugh, making both men shoot you begging pouts.

“Y/N.” Raynor glared at you, so you controlled yourself, gesturing for her to continue.

Her miracle question did work so well, neither of them cooperating well.

She didn’t even bother with you when you started cackling after she mentioned the “soul-gazing exercise” and Bucky thanked her, Sam commenting that he would like this one. You gave a teasing wolf-whistle when they got close, one of Bucky’s thighs between Sam’s and vice versa.

“Doll.” Bucky whined at you.

“Listen here, smartass-”

Raynor cleared her throat, cutting Sam off from finishing his statement towards you. You leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. After all the bickering and side taking they’ve put her through, letting you enjoy this was the least they could do, and they knew it.

Of course, this exercise didn’t work out either. A staring contest. Children. She was best friends with literal children.

But then something happened. Something you never thought would happen. Raynor asked Bucky why Sam aggravated him, and Bucky looked over to you, his eye growing sad in a way they only did when Steve was involved.

“Steve believed in you.” Bucky told him earnestly. “He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield? That is…that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.  So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me.”

You heard his voice crack a little at the end as he slumped down in his seat, you jaw dropping slightly. You listened to the rest of the conversation, catching the way Sam grew irritated again, something that you didn’t previously think was possible, but was happening more and more now.

Why wasn’t Sam talking to you? Why was he holding all this in suddenly? And why…Bucky…he didn’t tell you that. Why didn’t he say anything? How could he ever feel…

But you knew how he could feel like that. Yes, Steve believed in him so much that he tore the Avengers apart for him…but he was the only one willing to do that for him. Yeah, you and Sam and Wanda and Clint, you all joined their side but, being honest, it wasn’t because you believed in Bucky. It was because you believed in Steve. Of course, it was different now. You believed in Bucky with your entire being, and you believed in Sam with your heart and soul, but…did either of them know that? Did they believe you when you told them? Or did you not tell them enough? This whole time you thought you were doing right by Steve - trying you damn hardest to watch out for them. But it obviously wasn’t enough. And that was on you, no matter what Sam said.

You read people. That’s what you’ve always done, that’s what you’d always do. It was the reason you earned your spot on the team. You read people and situations and could figure your way into their heads in a second. Years and years of undercover work taught you how to do that and how to protect yourself while doing so.

So why? How? How did you miss something this big? How did you miss the way Sam was holding onto something? Why did you ignore the vexation in his tone for the last couple weeks? How did you miss that Bucky was hurting that deeply? Why didn’t you do anything more for him?

You left the room before either of the boys, but you heard Sam standing up as you walked out the door.

You should’ve known you weren’t the only one holding things in. Of course they were. The difference is, you were supposed to be their rock, the thing they could hold onto to ground themselves, the shoulder for them to cry on, and the ear lent to them whenever they needed someone to listen. That was your job. It wasn’t their job. Not for you. Your rock - your shoulder, your ear - he left you. And you thought, after all he did for you, if you just returned the favor for his best friends, you’d…you dunno. You’d be closer to him, maybe.

But you couldn’t. Because you weren’t Steve Rogers. And you knew that from the start, but you had to try. You tried. And it wasn’t working. He made it seem so easy when he did it for you. Clearly you didn’t give him enough credit for dealing with all your shit on top of his own.

“Doll.” You didn’t stop walking, needing to get outside for some fresh air. “Doll, hold on. Wait a minute.”

He grabbed your arm as you made it outside, spinning you to face him. “You didn’t tell me.” You spoke quietly, your voice fragile as you stared at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Were you really that bad at doing your job? Did you really already fail him? He asked you to do one thing…

“I didn’t…I didn’t want you to deal with my problems.” You opened your mouth, but he shook his head, holding your face between his hands. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know something’s going on with you. You’re good at hiding your nightmares at night, but I’m better. You’re jumpier than usual. Quieter. Every time Wanda’s brought up, you turn away. And the other day? On the truck? You froze. I was watching, doll. It was just a second, but you froze. You never freeze.”

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Buck-”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Not my job? Aren’t we friends? Isn’t that what friends do? Or am I just a job to you? I know you promised him to look after me. Is that all I am to you? A responsibility?”

You shook your head vigorously, holding onto his wrists. “No. No, Bucky, I just-”

“Do you think he was wrong about me?”

Salty diamonds ran down your cheeks as you clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. “No.”

“Did you ever believe in me? Did you ever care or was it all just because Steve? Is Steve the only reason you tolerate me?”

“Don’t say that. God, please don’t say that.” You begged quietly, meeting his gaze again. Every beautiful detail was laced with devastation, eyes imploring her to make him feel better. “Of course I believe in you. I have since Wakanda, you know that. Yes, okay, maybe Steve is why I helped you at first, but-but…I care about you, James. So much so that it hurts sometimes. He wasn’t wrong about you. Or Sammy. You both mean so much to me. Okay?”

You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly, nodding slightly. You both simultaneously moved to get closer, him pulling you while you stepped into his chest, arms around his waist. His arms were tight around your shoulder, holding you just as firm as the kiss he planted on your forehead.

Sam came out, planting himself besides you as you pulled away, Bucky wiping your eyes. “I feel better.” He huffed out sarcastically, making you smack him in the arm. “Ow! Yeesh. Women these days.”

The sudden siren of one of the parked police cars made the three of you look over, spotting Walker and Hoskins. You groaned. “Did he see that?”

“Hey,” Bucky caught your jaw between his fingers, shaking his head. “Who cares? It’s between us and us only. Right?” You nodded, making him kiss your forehead again, a whisper of “attagirl” against your skin. You hadn’t heard that from him in a while.

“Gentlemen!” Walker waved them over, nodding at you. “And lady.” The three of you reluctantly walked over, Bucky going to lean on the police car Walker and Hoskins were near and you hopped up to sit on the hood of the police car across from them, Sam besides you.

You got information from Walker, who was once again trying to get you to work with him, but Sam summed it up nicely, explaining that the three of you didn’t have to follow the rules he did. You started to leave, Bucky tucking you under his arms once you slid off the car, when Walker stopped you once more.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

You grumbled under your breath as the faker and his lapdog walked off. “I’m gonna kill him.” You vowed as the three of you started in the other direction. “I swear to God, I’m gonna rip that shield off his back and use it to beat him in that stupid face of his-”

“Down, girl.” Sam jested, flicking your ear. “We need a game plan. What’re we thinking?”

Your eyes narrowed as Bucky piped up, talking about the Isaiah character - who you still didn’t know - before HYDRA entered the equation.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, tugging his arm to make him stop once he mentioned Siberia. “Do you remember Siberia? Because if you’re actually suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, we remember Siberia very differently.”

“He’s our best bet-”

“So you’re just going to go sit in a room with this guy?”

Bucky scrunched up his nose. “Ye-yes…”

A beat of silence passed before Sam gave his stamp of approval, but you still disagreed. “There’s no way this’ll end well and I refuse to let you-”

You found your face between Bucky’s hands again. You really wished he’d stop doing that and just ask for your attention. You didn’t mean that, of course. You’d be held by him every second of every day if you could. “Don’t you trust me, doll?”

You licked your lips, looking around the darkened street. This was not a good idea. A bad plan - a terrible plan, really - but, unfortunately, it was the only one you had. “Dammit. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.” You finally sighed, running a hand through your hair after Bucky let go of you, his eyebrow quirking.

“Is that a yes?”

Sam nodded. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

You tugged Bucky’s hand when he nodded back and went to walk after Sam, who started walking around the corner, making him stop. “And yes. I do trust you. With everything I have, Buckaroo.”

[chuuyrr]

Hii✨✨

I'm absolutely in love with your baby fushiguro scarlet witch series! I was actually wondering while reading some of the new-ish hcs

How would teenager/ pre- teen scarlet witch and dad! Gino handle her getting her period and having period pains? Would gojo know what to do and how to act or would he panic and buy a whole store😂😂😂

If your uncomfortable with writing about periods or anything from this request please just delete it

Ly~❤️

dad! gojo & scarlet witch! fushiguro! reader getting her period

jujutsu kaisen x reader

masterlist of the series

warning(s): mentions about blood, menstruation/period & dysmenorrhea/period pains

hello anon ly, thank you for requesting and for the feedback! no worries, i'm not uncomfortable with the request, thank you for the concern as well :D i hope you enjoy reading this <3

(p.s. omg ya'll i only have two days left before my second sem of senior high school classes starts i wanna cry,, i may or may not have time for writing later on,, ok enough me rambling bye ya'll im heading to bed now it's past 12am already <\3)

gojo most definitely freaked out when you first got your period, probably more than you even💀

it was probably because of the scream that elicited from you when you first realized it. he literally dropped everything and bolted to where you are—only to find you crying with bloodstained sheets. his first intial thoughts from the sheer panic was that a curse hurt you, but really, it was just your period..

though he was relieved to know you weren't hurt, he had no damn clue about periods. so, while you were bawling your eyes out, gojo immediately rang shoko, who's your pediatrician and personal doctor at this point, to get some help. you couldn't really blame him though for not knowing much about this kind of stuff, he wasn't a woman.

after the two of you calmed down a bit, gojo ushered you to the bathroom so you could clean up and assured you to not worry about the stained bedsheets since those can always be washed before speeding to the nearest supermarket to get the essentials that shoko told him to get.

gojo forgot to ask shoko which pad to get you, he started panicking all over again because he forgot his phone and as it turns out, there was like hundreds of brands with different types of pads. in the end, gojo deadass ended up buying the entire store's worth of pads which made him receive weird and questionable looks from other customers in line, as well as from the cashier, but that was the less of his care right now.

after getting you your pads, gojo had shoko teach you how to use them and got her to explain to you about periods and such via phone call. once you figured it out, you came out of the bathroom with new pajama bottoms and was still sniffling when you found out that you had to go through it for a week each month now.

gojo was so worried of his baby, he actually took time off his work just so he could take care of you and this became a routine for him since then, most especially when you started to experience period cramps. he couldn't bear the sight of you crying and being in pain.

as soon as gojo sees you in pain and cry out a "dad, it hurts!", he immediately rushes to you and puts you to his side, coddling you in his embrace, placing your head against his shoulder and rubbing shapes on your back in hopes to make you feel better as you fist onto his shirt, digging your nails onto the fabric :(

eventually, gojo learned about period medication and as soon as he did, gojo bought you professional recommended ones. he doesn't give a damn if they were expensive and overpriced. if these will help his kikufuku with the pain, then he'll buy the entire store again. he also got you those microwaveable heating pads for hot compress for your period cramps!

you have period cravings? gojo will buy you anything you need and want. he'll spoil you thrice than usual, buying you chocolate, your favorite meals and snacks. just tell him and he'll get it for you in a heartbeat!

gojo will also make sure you're hydrated, he'll remind you to drink water frequently as it helps with dysmenorrhea and don't you worry about staining the bedsheets, towels, pajama bottoms and sweatpants you own with blood, if they don't come off even after being washed. gojo will just buy you new ones with his money, so don't stress over it bb!

during these times, gojo knows how you tend to get moody so you don't have to worry. he'll be extra understanding.

are you feeling sad all of a sudden? come get your hugs from your best dad ever! gojo already has his arms widen open and ready bubs.

are you feeling frustrated and do you want some alone time? no worries! gojo will leave you alone for as long as you need, just let him know if you need anything.

do you feel like crying? lean on gojo's shoulder, he'll be there to comfort you and listen to your rants.

gojo doesn't make you attend school or take on jujutsu high missions during these days, even if you insist you feel just fine. he doesn't want you to push or stress yourself out.

periods are truly difficult and a literal pain, but with your dad, you've got nothing to worry about! gojo's got your back, he's there to care for his precious kikufuku and to be a shoulder to lean on whether you're on your period or not.

since your first period, gojo became more prepared. he has a period kit just for you, has the movies, period craving foods, heating pad and medications ready.

sure, gojo still kinda panics but he tries his best not to because he really just wants to help you and make you feel better. if it was possible, he'll take and bear the pain instead for you. that's how much gojo loves you <3

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

���Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

evilkneival123@gmail.com just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

__

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles. 

A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.” 

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.” 

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.” 

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly. 

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this. 

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

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