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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

Note

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting.

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition.

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something.

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus.

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold.

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in.

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?”

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket.

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?”

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy.

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier.

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him.

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?”

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before.

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes.

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare.

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks.

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus.

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice.

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,” Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked.

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs.

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound.

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly.

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping.

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark.

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead.

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it?

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

#geraskier #bouncey's buddies #prompt fill #geraskier fic #geraskier ficlet #geraskier fluff #getting together #boyband au #geraskier boyband au #the witcher five and their hit song 'please lambert stop farting on the bus'#ellie has the braincell #thirsty jaskier #thirsty geralt #soft geralt #protective geralt #clumsy jaskier #soft boys content #bouncey's endless au collection #bouncey's endless getting together fics

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emeatocannoliii · 4 years

Text

You Matter Too (House of Wax Comfort Fic)

**(A/N: Been in pain and feeling shitty for most of today, wanted to write some OC/Self Insert to cheer me up {OCs can be self inserts too right?}. But here’s some fanfic writing for House of Wax … I’m so sorry, the Sinclair brothers have my heart. Also, will post a whole story about how Garth, the OC of mine, came around to Amberose and ended up sticking around and just some info and art of her, maybe once I get some more OC/self insert work done for Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Alright, enough rambling, time for the story. Apologies in advance if it’s not too well written, I don’t write too much fanfic but I’m doing my best.)**

Warning, just to be safe: Brief mention of periods, lots of emotional bits

The Sinclair house would be alright and quiet on this afternoon, as per usual. However, the latest household member was crying in the upstairs room she shared with Vincent. Bo was on the couch just trying to ignore Garth’s pained wailing, but to no avail. Finally, he turned to Lester with a defeated look on his face.

“FUCK!” The mechanic screamed, “I can’t take much more of it! I just want some peace n’ quiet and what do we fuckin’ get!? CRYIN’! A CRYIN’ LADY!!”

Lester looked at his elder brother and nodded, his gaze looking back up the stairs. Garth has made herself at home in the Louisiana ghost town (or wax town) for several months now and this wasn’t the first time this had happened. Today, however, today must be extra horrid for her. The younger man had a more empathetic view than the brother currently in the room, she means well and she’s usually a happy camper. He hoped it’s nothing bad.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘er, this probably isn’t her fault. I just hope it’s nothing serious,” He told Bo, concern being heard in his voice when he spoke his last sentence.

Bo calmed down a bit after hearing that, he knew Lester was right, this wasn’t like her. Sure, she had times where she was a crying mess but usually she’d be over that by now.

With a huff, Bo replied, “Yer right, but one of us needs to sort it out. Someone should try to talk to ‘er”

Just like that, Vincent came inside the living room and the gaze of his twin and younger brother was laid on him.

“Vincent,” Bo said calmly, trying not to lose his temper again, “You hear yer lady friend crying up there?” His thumb pointing towards the upstair rooms.

Vincent was now just hearing Garth’s pained sobbing, he looked up and back at Bo, answering only with a nod.

“Do you wanna talk to Barf? She’s yer art buddy after all, maybe you can calm ‘er down this time.”

Vincent gave Bo a scorn look in his eye, he got annoyed when his twin called her that. But, his gaze softened and gave a thumbs up in response. Bo gave a thankful sigh and let Vinny head upstairs.

“I’m sure this’ll be fine,” Bo said.

Lester gave a confident nod but still had a worried look in his eyes.

* In the shared bedroom *

Garth wasn’t on the spare mattress she was given when she graduated from the living room couch, she was on Vincent’s bed, cuddling her pillow. She was allowed by the artist use or look at anything in the room when they began to share the space, she hoped he wouldn’t mind her being on his bed at this time; she just wanted to have something comforting at her time. Garth jolted a bit when she heard a knock at the door, she sniffed a bit.

“Come in,” she said quietly, trying not to cry again. She smiled a bit seeing Vincent walk in but frowned once again and looked away.

He sat on the bed, next to his friend who was still curled up almost ball-like, the way cats do. He reached in his bag to pull out a pencil and a pad of paper and began to write something, the man was able to talk but figured this would be quicker in the current moment. Garth looked up as he wrote and was given the pad:

‘I heard you crying. Is everything alright? We’re all somewhat concerned.’

Garth sighed, “I’m in pain, I’m not feeling happy. I’m just miserable.”

Vincent got some info about the situation, but not what he wanted. He wrote again and gave it to her:

‘Did something happened? We just want to know.’

She gave the pad back and looked at him, “You really wanna know?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Alright, it’s just that time of the month. It’s just being an extra big prick this time around, especially emotionally.”

The long haired man nodded and wrote something:

‘It’s alright, we understand. You’ve been with us for several months, we’re used to it at this point and it’s okay.’

Garth gave a huff/sigh reading that. What he wrote wasn’t helpful in the slightest but she appreciates that he’s trying to help and make her feel better. She began to cry a bit again and then sat up, pillow still in her grip.

“Vincent,” Garth began, “Why does life become unfair at times? I mean, don’t get me wrong, there are people who have it worse but … There are still things on my mind about what happened months back and I still don’t know how to process all of that. Did I do something to deserve it or were they just spiteful?”

Vincent’s eye widened, he knew exactly what she was referring to. That day she arrived in the town, her ‘friends’ left her behind and forced her to be alone for who knows how long until she stumbled here. He quickly jot down something and quickly handed her the pad:

‘Is that what this is also about?’

“Somewhat,” Garth admitted, “I just don’t know … Am I the selfish one for wanting some appreciation for what I do? Or at the very least, being able to have something for myself? Am I an ass for having or wanting any of that?”

He began writing once again, surprised by what she was saying. Vincent had never heard her talk about things like this for the time she was here:

‘I don’t think you’re being selfish, none of us said anything about you being like that. You help where you can, that means a lot. You’re a sweet thing and we’ve been enjoying having you here. Those ”friends” of yours were just assholes and they should never come around here if they know what’s good for them. If you want something or need time, we understand. You matter too (even if Bo won’t admit it).’

Garth read every word of that and returned it to the artist. She placed the pillow down and reached out to Vincent for a hug, he was unsure at first but wrapped his arms around the lady as she cried a bit more. He began rocking a bit, hoping that would help.

After a moment or two, she sat up and sniffed a bit before looking up at her friend with a smile, “Thanks Vinny. I’m sorry if that was all out of left field but it’s still been bugging me.”

Vincent responded by patting her head. He then got up and headed for the door, he looked at her, wondering if she would like to come out too.

“If it’s alright, I’ll be in here for another minute. Tell Bo I’ll be out in a bit please.”

Vincent nodded and opened the door, but stopped once Garth spoke again.

“Oh Vincent, one more thing” She said.

“Hm?” The man responded.

“Can you ask Bo if I can tag along with him next time he heads into town? I want to pick up something sweet.”

Vincent chuckled then moved his mask a bit to show part of his fact, he was smiling as he gave a quick nod.

“Thanks man,” Garth said, “I’ll join you guys in a bit.”

With that, Vinny fixed his mask and closed the door. When he got back downstairs, the other two men were curious.

“Well, you did calm the lady down,” Bo said, being grateful.

“What did she say? Did something happen?” Lester asked, still worried about their friend.

Vincent explained everything that went on and everything on her mind.

“Oh! That makes sense,” Bo said, “I’m just glad she’s mostly aright now”

“Poor thing. I’m just glad she’s with us now and feeling a bit better,” Lester said, “We care about ‘er more than they ever did!”

Vincent nodded and so did Bo. Lester then got up and headed out the door.

“I’ll be back in a bit, I’m gonna see if there’s more work to be done. Tell Garth that I hope she feels even more better, Vincent!” Lester said, Vincent nodded and waved.

Once the youngest brother left, the artist turned to Bo. He then told Bo about the request Garth had.

“Fine,” Bo said, it might seem small to him but knows it’ll mean a lot to her, especially with what he had just found out, “I can do that.”

#house of wax #self insert #comfort story #my post #oc #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #ocs #vincent sinclair #fanfiction #fanfic #slashers #slasher

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veryvincible · 5 years

Text

The Shitstorm That Is TS:IM and IM2020: The Tony Critique

Part 1 / 4!

Because this sucks, and we need to acknowledge that this sucks.

2 3 4

First of all, a nod to the stunning art that these issues feature. I’m sorry, artists, that you had to work with plotlines so damning. Now that that’s over with, let’s start from the first issue of Tony Stark: Iron Man.

The first thing you’ll probably notice is the result of 616 canon being negatively affected by the characterization of the MCU. Now, the MCU is an entirely different universe. Tony Stark acts differently here because, well... MCU Tony Stark is a different person than 616 Tony Stark. Ultimates Tony Stark is also a different person than 616 Tony Stark. Iron Man Noir is also-- You get the point. These Tonys act differently because they have different natures branching off of the same core. They have different experiences. They have different environments and resources.

So, to understand why it’s totally mega-fucked for 616 Tony’s personality to undergo such a dramatic change, you have to understand what 616 Tony originally was and how he acted.

I have a lot to say about 616 Tony, but we don’t have time for that, so here’s a breakdown from @sineala that does an excellent job of giving you the rundown. In essence, 616 Tony is mellow. He’s calmer. He’s charismatic, but in an adult scholarly way. He’s what you’d picture if someone said “respectable businessman” out loud. The closest to 616 Tony the MCU has ever gotten is mid-CW, where Tony’s somber with undertones of guilt and exhaustion. This is him.

616 Tony also has a lot of respect for people. There’s always the odd comic that characterizes him as bigoted in some way, shape, or form, but he consistently puts minorities in positions of power, and for literal decades has appreciated and funded certain charities and organizations that aim to do the same thing. Tony treats people with respect even after they’ve severely wronged him.

So, when the first issue makes our low-key, melancholy Tony Stark who treats people with a professional baseline of respect say wacky shit like this:

We get kind of frustrated.

Not to mention the fact that Tony’s past has also been adjusted to fit the desires of the writers, who seem to have forgotten that Tony was canonically a quiet and sensitive kid (hence why Howard wanted him to “man up” so hard).

"Quiet and sensitive.”

Anyway, here’s further evidence that this run is MCU-ifying Tony Stark in order to make him more friendly to the MCU-to-Comic demographics:

Sitting down onstage to talk to the press is such a Tony thing to do, right?

Well, sure, if you watched Iron Man 1 (and even then, that was one speech! Just one!) If you read any comic featuring Tony at his 616-est, however, you’d figure out pretty quickly that this man likes a podium. His tone is professional, as opposed to conversational. He doesn’t center his whole personality around the fact that he’s an authority figure, but he also doesn’t go out of his way to make himself seem like he’s not. He’s in a position of power. He knows it.

For reference, here’s what “knowing it” looks like. Obviously, this is a more formal occasion than a regular ol’ press conference would be, but... you get the point. This is pretty much his vibe.

And then there’s this bullshit, which is obviously a nod to the MCU in the most shocking and upsetting of ways. Note the trademark pose, the “We are Iron Man,” most likely pointing to both the “I am Iron Man” bit that the MCU had (which 616 Tony didn’t do the second the superhero was popularized, because he was spending all of his time living his life identity-porn style), and maybe the “We are Groot” bit from GOTG.

The thing is, this “We are Iron Man!” mentality fits... no Tony. MCU Tony sees Iron Man as a part of himself. 616 Tony often refers to Iron Man as a separate entity (not concept, but entity) from himself, better and more desirable than him, when he’s having his shittiest days.

And then there’s shit like this, which is objectively shitty. But because Tony’s funky new playboy attitude is comedic and all, he’s going to ignore the fact that Rhodey’s having a post-traumatic episode just piloting the suit (which he’s doing because Tony asked him to, when he could have asked... I don’t know, anyone else?) in favor of being a dick to him.

“You’re all over the place,” says the character who’s canonically diagnosed with MDD and experiences severe PTSD of his own to the other character who has severe PTSD and is being hardcore triggered by something he’s previously referred to as a metal coffin or casket or something.

That’s not even beginning to mention the fact that he’s calling Sunset Bain, a canonically manipulative and shitty ex (who, fun fact, was 5 years older than “undergrad Tony Stark” at MIT, and convinced Tony to keep her a secret from Howard and Maria) “the pretty-but-evil lady.”

So... she’s abusive, but at least she’s hot! And Tony still feels this way about her despite the fact that she, uh... stole some of his ideas, split up with him soon after, and then founded her entire company off of these ideas.

Very cool, Marvel. Thanks for that.

And hey, remember Tony’s fucking awesome quote from Avengers Vol 4?

“I can create a world without war. I can make a world without alcohol or drugs. Without hate or jealousy. But then it wouldn't be the world we live in. Nothing would be learned, nothing would be gained. We wouldn't advance as species.”

Well, here’s a fun fact. He doesn’t give a shit about any of that anymore, because fuck depth, right? Now he wants to ctrl+alt+delete the shit that makes him sad. And obviously, obviously alcoholism is something that’s understandably hated. Of course he’d want to get rid of it ASAP. But this is a guy who practically lives in guilt, a guy who thinks he deserves all the shit he gets and only ever crawls out of it for the sake of his loved ones.

That’s not this Tony.

And then there’s this. Honestly, I have no words for this. If it were some joke intended for an audience around him, then sure, it could work. It’s not like Tony never makes these kinds of jokes.

But this is just him. Him and a recording of himself in a room. Him, saying “I love the sound of my own voice” to himself despite the fact that we have decades of 616 canon proving the opposite.

There are many, many other issues with these issues (pun intended, but please read it with a cynical, if not completely hostile, tone) and how Tony acts within them, but I’m going to go more in-depth with those in some separate posts.

Because this is Hell. For my sins, I’ve become a torturer. For yours, you have to be subjected to even more of TS:IM than anyone should be exposed to.

#tony stark #tony stark: iron man #ts:im #marvel comics #iron man #dan slott #iron man 2020 #arno stark #maria stark

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nightmaretyrantvantas · 5 years

Text

So I’m finally getting around to writing out a bunch of info about my Sander Sides au so I hope youre all ready--(its like 1 am im so sorry for any spelling mistakes and missed tags)

So its 1 am on a work night and I cant sleep and I’ve had lots of ideas and canon things for this au bouncing around my head for days and now TONIGHTS THE NIGHT ITS HAPPENING IM DELIVERING YOU ALL THE DETAILS AND EVERYTHING I CAN THINK OF AND TYPE

Also please feel free to ask about this! I know I got a few new followers from all my recent sander sides art and also thanks to @sugarglider9603 reblogging some art I made of their au I got the biggest flood of exposure and attention on my art ive ever had and I have so much to thank them for, for all recent exposure ive gotten the past couple days( theyre so sweet and lovely and easy to talk to sugar deserves all the love--) and its given me a huge surge of motivation and confidence to post this. And please, my inbox is always open to talk about my aus or my art! Ask questions, send requests, send headcanons or ideas, send fluff angst im open to anything and I try to do all requests sent to me(sooner or later)

Oh oh! and please id you catch any and all the little inspirations or anything let me know

And finally this au is a LAMP au with Remile and Demus on the side

Ahem ahem anyway onto the au!!!

More under the cut so I dont flood your screen too bad!

Ok so!

This Au was originally inspired by @residentanchor‘s amazing fanfic A Lesson in Practicality and also a little bit by @prettyinaccurate‘s fanged virgil au( I’ll get more into that further down)

So it takes place in a (currently) unnamed bigger city I based off San Francisco and Sacramento( because I live in Cali and those are the two major cities ive really visited ya know?) The boys are all in various stages of their twenties when they move into a four bedroom apartment together: Patton Foster is the oldest of the roomies at 27, then Logan Masters at 26, Roman Prince at 24, and finally Virgil Collins at 22. They move in together because it all works out for them really, the apartment is in a good distance to all their current jobs, whether by bus or even in Pat’s case in walking distance and with all four of them it was well affordable and was pretty nice. I mean hey it even came with a little communal balcony ( since theyre on third floor of the building)

Things are understandably a little rocky at first , i mean isnt it always though?

Virgil has alot of anxiety and so he tends not to talk really at all at the beginning unless he ABSOLUTELY had to, mostly communicating in noncomittal noises and soft grumbles, and he was fresh out of collage and barely two years into his job and out on his own for the first time and he wasnt really ready for it either like christ too many people

Patton was bright bubbly and caring. This wasnt his first rodeo with roomies, I mean cmon, hes been sharing a room with his older brother Damian(deceit) on and off almost all his freakin life, nor was it his first time living on his own with strangers(hes lived in two different parts of two when he was job hopping before he settled down in his current part time job)

Roman was extroverted loud and exciteable, he too was used to sharing his living space( he had TWO siblings after all) and before he had moved into the apartment he had tried living on his own and with other roommates while he attended collage, but those just didnt work out well ( he ended up staying with his older brother Remy in his studio apartment across the city while he finished out that semester and searched for a job to keep an income.

Logan was serious minded stern toned and confident, he had a minor degree in teaching that he was slowly repursueing and had been out on his own for awhile before he had moved in. And though cold at first he soon found his group of housemates...enjoyable.

Its about a month into them living together that they learn exactly why despite slowly getting close and getting to know each other Virgil still kept a wide distance: He had entirely sharp teeth.

“ I dunno....I was born with them..theyve always been a sharp pain in my ass...” - virgil, about his teeth

Of course just having sharp teeth wasnt bad enough oh no. You see a few years back when he was about 18 he was young and dumb and made horrifically stupid and reckless decisions under peer pressure and ended up doing something that not only pointedly (haha oh god im not funny) chipped his front teeth but it fucked up his teeth pretty majorly, he went from having a normal overbite to almost having a goddamn underbite and crooked all his teeth, and the only way to fix it( because somehow miraculous for all the damage done it turned out to be mostly reversable aside from the chipping) was getting braces to realign his teeth. So he’s had pretty purple braces over his fangs since he was 18 and they werent expected to come off until he was AT LEAST 25 and he was insecure about them. ( he got mocked for them through his two and a half years of junior collage)

Once the gang finds out they are understanding and helpful and dont make a big deal about it( though virgil gains a significant amount of more vampire related nicknames from roman)

Once they get close and comfortable around each other the apartment is pretty warm and lively!

Virgil works at the art store as an assistant manager and head stocker( a bit of a dream come true since he was an art student)

Roman works as a part time waiter at a family resturant as well as working at a nearby theater( he was of course a lovely theater major)

Patton worked at a nearby cafe and bakery as a bit of everything! He helped wait tables, serve behind the counter, and helped in the back in the kitchen( the owners were family friends and he’d been working there almost four to five years at that point, boi knows how to do everything)

Logan worked at a big name bookstore, and also provided tutoring sessions for highschool students on the side by commision

More FACTS~~

Family ages for the big families go as follows:

Fosters: Damian(28), Patton(27)

Prince: Remy(26), Roman(24, older twin by 10 minutes), Remus(24, younger twin)

Emile is 27 and is a licensed therapist and works as a counselor for young adults that volunteers at the nearby library to ready to children

Remy works as a coffee barista in Emile’s building

Remus does alot of odd jobs, kinda working as an independent for hire and gets a surprising steady flow of work and pay. Hes still a trash man though, but hes a successful trash man( partly thanks to Damian calling in favors with connections)

Damian works at a law firm slowly moving into the position of prosecutor

Virgil doesnt really get along with his family and at some point Emile offers to take virgil in as his adopted brother, with Damian assuring him if he wanted concrete legal papers to start changing his last name, cutting ties with his family, anything needed for it he’d see to it that they’d be providing(something our boi really appreciates)

Remy visits Emile on his breaks since hes literally just...two hallways down and vice versa

Damian and Remus live together in the next, slightly smaller city over because Damian’s work transferred him to a different office in order for him to keep moving up in the ranks so to speak.

Hes also good at what he does.

Family nights happen whenever they can

Patton got to teach them how to cook alot of complicatied dishes from scratch, a bonding time he adores

Roman got Virgil an Espeon hoodie after they all start dating and virgil loves it and wears it alot around the house because its a thicker hoodie and warm( though he tries to ignore the big ears and the obnovious tail

Virgil also loves visiting Roman’s work on what Ro likes to refer to as “ hellish days” AKA kids day which means goofy kid friendly theme days. His favorite was probably alice in wonderland day when Roman was Tweedle Dee

Roman played J.D at the local theater and likes to hum some of the his songs to switch up the Disney

The balcony is covered in houseplants and and a corner of old blankets and pillows to sit and chill on

Once a month Logan and Patton have what is affectionately referred to as the Cat Discourse

After any particularly rough days at work Patton tends to massage Logan’s shoulders and back to make sure Lo doesnt get any really bad stress knots

in return when Logan sees Patton’s head a hard day he makes Patton’s favorite drink and pulls him into a hug and let the older man fall asleep in his arms while they watch movies

Pat and roman sense each other’s bad days and order in some cliche diner food and hole up in pattons room with Pattons computer and relax the shittiness away with comedy specials and movies

Likewise Virgil has a knack of picking up Roman’s bad days and always grabs a couple glasses and a bottle kinda cheap wine and they end up curling up together on Romans bed marathoning Disney movies on Virgil’s laptop

and when Virgil closes himself off more than normal Logan manages to lure him out of his room and they end up sitting out on the balcony quietly talking and stargazing

so loving and fond and soft with each other

you hurt one of them you gonna get BEAT by the others.

Speaking of getting beat, never EVER mess with Roman or Remus in Remy’s proximity

Remy Andrew Prince can and WILL fuck you right up if you hurt his little brothers. He’s protective.

and where Remy will rearrange your face Damian will ruin you mentally and legally if you so much as mistreat a single freckle on his little brother’s face, despite knowing that Patton is fully capable of taking care of himself.

Everyone protects Virgil, dont mess with or hurt virgil or you have the pack coming for ya throat

aaaaaaaaaaaaaand thats all I have for right now! Of course more will be added but now its almost three in the morning and I have work at 1:30pm and im sleepy finally! But I hope you guys like this! And please, feel free to talk to me about it, my inbox is always open!!

Taglist: @phantommoonpeople @sweetsweetemo @loganberrysanders

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sweetpworld · 5 years

Text

The P.A. - 1/2

Summary: Being a Personal Assistant is already a job full of ups and downs. When things start to change with your boss, you see yourself in a full on roller-coaster. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Plus Size!Reader Word count: 9.262 in total (I GOT OUT OF CONTROL, SORRY) Warnings: Self-doubt, Body-shamming, Fat-shamming, mentions of smut and FLUFF. A/N: Ok, I’m trying this again after Tumblr went all riot on me. I still can’t believe I wrote over 9000 words, so I decided to make it a two-shot so MAYBE tumblr won’t fuck it up again.. I’m so sorry for any typos or grammar errors. English isn’t my primary language, so please, go easy on me. I’m really sorry if this turned out shitty, but I really feel good about the plot and I honestly hope you guys enjoy it.

----------

Another day on the set and here come the stares. Again.

It was always like this with you every time you showed up beside Sebastian, just because you were his fat personal assistant. Like, really people? Grow the fuck up.

When you first started this job you used to feel bad about this, about your body and about all these stupid people who keep on looking at the size 20 girl walking around them; but then, after a couple of months and receiving praises for your hell of a good job, you decided that people would still stare at you, but that didn’t mean you should care. You were here to do your job, not to please them.

You could still remember the day Mark Ruffalo was talking to Sebastian about the new movies and you were beside him taking notes and Mark said “Hey man, you know, your P.A. is a fucking good one. I don’t even know where mine is. If she was taking notes as much as yours is, I wouldn’t be as lost as I am most of the time.”. You all laughed at that, but that was also the moment where you understood that you weren’t a charity case. You were good at what you did and should be proud of that.

So here you are now, walking beside Sebastian with your head held high, iPad in hand and ready for the ridiculously crazy schedule you had for today. There was only one little thing that made your day harder than it should be: your boss.

Sebastian Stan is a very good-looking man and everyone knows that. All you need to do is look at him and bam: beauty. But after the last year and a half working with him, you have also met different sides that just made him look even more amazing in your eyes. Like the way he smiles at puppies, or how he works so hard on each role he gets, or how he loves his fans so much, or how inept he is with technology, or how he blushes so hard at compliments, as if he doesn’t know how amazing he is.

It’s a lot. Like, a lot. Specially for your heart to not fall for a man like him. But, of course, besides your job, there was always a problem with you having a crush on someone: they never liked you back.

Sebastian, for example, has a ‘dirty secret’. Not a problem or anything major, of course, but something that doesn’t come out to the public. He likes sex. A lot. And, let’s face it, it’s always easy for him to get someone to have one-night stands. The thing is that you are the one to deal with them later. So You're the one in charge of making them sign a confidentially contract, take away their phones to make sure they don’t have any pics or videos and finally send them on their ways while Sebastian is hitting the gym or something. And the thing is they are always the same tall, skinny and glamorous type of woman.

If you weren’t sure that he would never feel attracted to you before he asked to take care of them, you were completely sure after. So it was still hard to see him flirting with any good-looking woman that shows interest in him, but it helped your efforts to get over him, in a way.

-Hello Mr. Stan, hello Y/N. You look lovely today.

You were brought back from your thoughts by Jack’s greeting. He is Anthony’s personal assistant and has always been really nice to you.

-Jack. Shouldn’t you be with Mackie? - Sebastian asked him coldly. Which was odd, since he was always very friendly with everyone.

-I’m just going to take his coffee, Mr. Stan, but thought I should say hello to you. And to Y/N, of course.

-Well, hi Jack. Thank you for being so thoughtful. - You said smiling at him and giving Sebastian a look when he scoffed. - But go on and take Anthony’s coffee, I’m sure he is waiting.

-Right, well, we talk later, right Y/N?

-Of course. See you later! - You said walking quickly to catch up with Sebastian, who was already a few steps ahead. It was very odd, but you wouldn't make a scene out of it, so you just kept on going and decided to ignore it. Maybe Jack did something that bothered Sebastian or whatever.

And this was pretty much how your week went by: lots of appointments, taking care of Sebastian’s needs, watching him being rude with Jack every time you two were talking for a bit, not getting it any of those times, and just pretty much ignoring it. And just like that came Friday and you couldn’t be happier. Fridays meant Sebastian would go find a hook up and that meant free time for you. At least until the next morning, when you’d be needed to take away the trash, of course. But you were still glad to have a day to get home, put on some comfy pajamas e just chill.

Soon came the end of the day, it was getting darker, and Sebastian was finished for the day. You waited for him to change and met him back on the car waiting for you.

-Ok, so tonight you don’t have anything planned, tomorrow afternoon, starting at 2 p.m. you have a photoshoot for Hugo Boss and tomorrow night I’ll need you to attend an art exhibit that is raising money for the children’s hospital. But I’m sure you can find a woman for you there, so you won’t sacrifice your Saturday night’s fun. I’ll make sure to be at your place tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. with coffee and the papers for whichever lady you pick tonight. - You said checking your week agenda.

-Actually, you don’t have to worry about the papers. - Sebastian said beside you, looking out the window.

-Why? Is there a girlfriend this time? Because if not I have to do that so they don’t go around spreading picks of you naked on Facebook, IG or Twitter. - you said still not looking up.

-No, nothing like a girlfriend. Nothing at all actually. - He said turning to look at you when you shot your head up to eye him.

-What do you mean ‘nothing at all’? - you said eyeing him suspiciously.

-I mean that I don’t want any girl tonight. Or tomorrow for that matter. - He said turning his head to the window again.

You were shocked. Like, for real. You were just sitting there, gapping at him like a fish and not knowing what to say.

-But... But... You always... Are you okay? - you ended up asking him.

-Yeah, I am more than okay. I have realized some things in the past few months and I just don’t want random woman anymore. - He said smiling softly, still looking out the window.

-Oh... Well... Good for you then. I mean, if you are happy, then that’s what matter, right? In that case, I’ll show up around 10 a.m. at your place, is that okay? - you asked him still slightly confused.

-You work too hard. Don’t worry, show up at midday and I’ll be ready, okay? I want you to rest and have a good night of sleep.- he said smiling and looking softly at you.

-O...kay. I won’t say that I don’t appreciate that, but are you certain you are okay? - you asked him again.

-Trust me, I am. I just need some me time to figure some things out. - He said taking your hand and kissing it. - We are here. Go get some rest.

You turned, still stunned that he was acting all weird like that and saw that you were indeed in front of your building.

-Well, who would’ve known? Maybe I should be in shock every time I take the bus so it goes faster.

He chuckled at that. - You were always funny.

You smiled, still confused, but decided that you needed some wine and your best friend to talk to. - Well then, I see you tomorrow at midday. Bye Sebastian, good night.

You didn’t wait for him to reply nor did you turned back once inside your building. If you had done any of those things you would have heard him saying a soft “Good night, love” and asking the driver to wait until you were out of sight.

----------

Once inside your apartment you called your best friend, Victor, inviting him to go over your place.

-Sure girl, I’ll be there in 40 minutes. Should I bring pizza?

-Absolutely. The Supreme with extra cheese.

-Okay, I get it, something happened, probably hot boss, don’t worry, I’ll be there.

He hung up on you, but you just smiled softly. Your friend was the worse, but he made it work the best. So you took a shower, put on some cute pj’s and shoved another bottle of wine on the cooler. You just knew you would need it. Not much later Victor arrived with two pizzas and 4 different Ben & Jerry’s.

-You know, if I didn’t need those today, I’d beat the crap out of you for ruining my diet.

-Girl, shush and live a little. Now, be a good friend and grab the wine. I’m taking these beauties to the freezer and those beauties to your coffee table.

Once everything was settled, you were already eating and “The Proposal” was on your T.V; Victor decided to do what he does best: go straight to business.

-So, care to tell me why you needed my wonderful assistance?

-Why, can’t a girl just love to spend time with her bff?

-Uh nuh. Cut the crap. We both know you have something bothering you and if I was to bet I’d bet it has something to do with Mr. Sebastian Hot-Body-And-Jawline-For-Days Stan. A.K.A. your boss.

Taking a deep breath you looked up to your ceiling – Ok, fine, yes, it has to do with him, but I seriously need your opinion here. - You said turning to look at him. Victor simply held your hand and signed you to keep going. - Okay, so you and I both know that Sebastian likes to have one night stands, right?

-Almost as much as I like those.

-Yes, exactly. And every Friday and Saturday night he finds someone to hook up with. And I am the one responsible to take care of them the morning after.

-You take out the trash.

-Yes, exactly again. So, what would you think if I told you he told me to not worry because he doesn’t want any woman today OR tomorrow? Like, at all. - You asked watching Victor pensive face.

-Well, that is odd, I’ll give you that. Did you ask him if he was feeling okay? Maybe he has a cold or something.

-I did ask him and he just said something about ‘realizing things for a few months now’. - you said making quotation marks with your fingers.

-Was it just that? I mean, was it the only weird thing about that talk?

-Well, he seemed a bit light-headed, you know? And he kissed my hand. Like right before I got out of the car.

-Hum… elaborate.

-There's nothing much of it, really. He was just off, smiling while looking out the window, dismissing his woman hunt, kissing my hand and telling me he wanted me to rest and have a good night of sleep.

Victor and you stared at each other for a couple of secseconds.

-BITCH, I KNOW HIS TEA! – He yelled all of a sudden making you jump.

-Oh my GOD, what?

-He is into you.

You stared at his smiley face for a couple of seconds, trying to decide if the was serious or not.

-What?

-He. Is. Into. You. It's obvious. He likes you.

-And you say that because of what exactly? He kissed my hand? C'mon V, you can't be serious. – you said pouring some more wine for you.

-Look, I am a guy, okay? A gay man, but that's the closest we have to thinking like a straight man right now. And as a guys I don’t stop sleeping around and show affection to someone if I am not really into said person. In fact, I only realized I wanted to date Nick because I didn’t feel like having sex with any other guy but him. And look at me now. Going for our second anniversary and still in love with the motherfucker. And let me tell you this: that Italian guy, Paolo, was a hell of a good lay.

-Okay, I get it. No need to be grafic. Again. But you don't have all the facts.

-And what am I missing.

-You're missing the fact that it is impossible.

-Oh my Zeus, girl! – he said rolling his eyes and taking a deep breath. – Why is that so impossible for you?

-It just is, V.

-No, I will have none of that. Talk to me Y/N/N. Why its it so impossible? – you sat there in silence for a couple of seconds – You can open up, you know. You don't have to share, but you don't have to carry whatever is inside your head alone either.

-I… It's just… - You took a deep breath, trying to focus on what to say – V, I am not the kind of woman who gets the guys.

-What do you mean?

-V… I am not like you. I don't have 7 or more guys lining up to take me out even if I was dating someone. Guys… People don't find me attractive.

-Y/N/N… But I see you with guys sometimes.

-Yeah, drunk guys who don't know who they are kissing on night club. Or guys who have a fat fetish. But I just don't have what you have, okay? Have I ever introduced you to someone and said ‘this is my boyfriend’s?

-Not that I remember…

-And you won't remember because there was never this person… The thing is, I am not pretty. I am fat. And no one really wants to know me. Specially guys. I act like people don’t affect me, but they do. So, it doesn't matter if I am smart or funny or whatever. No one will love you if you're unattractive. I used to hear that back in my school days and I hate to have figured it out it's true. It's real. No one could possibly want me. And that's why people like you and Sebastian and so many others can jump from relationship to relationship. I mean, there is an interview where Sebastian says ‘no matter what I do I always end up between Black Widow’s legs’. But he means it like it’s the most amazing thing in the world. Have you ever seen Scarlet Johansson? That woman is a Goddess so of course it is the best thing in the world. – you took a sip of your wine only to realize how sour it tasted now – Sebastian has always gone for model like woman ever since I know him. I am a fucking size 20. And I can't just take the fucking zero from that number and change its place. Therefore, he can't like me. No matter what I feel and no matter how much I try… It's impossible.

Victor took your hand in his and made you look at him.

-You couldn't possibly know how much it pains me to see you looking at yourself like this. – he said on the verge of tears – How much I am angry that you don't see yourself like I do. Do you have any idea how beautiful I think you are? Do you have any idea how I envy your fashion sense? Do you have any idea how many times I've said to Nick and so many others what a lucky bastard the guy who dated you would be? Too many to count. I am not saying that because I am your friend. I am saying that because you are truly amazing. Y/N, you are fat. And you are smart. And you are funny. And you are beautiful. And you are all of those things together because you don't have to be just one single thing. And Sebastian will be a fucking fool if he doesn't see that. Or any other man for that matter. You know what? I am texting Nick because I will marry you and he will be my dirt little not so much of a secret. You are my best friend Y/N, and I can assure you: any man who dates you is a hell of a lucky son of a bitch. And I will pay someone to beat whoever hurts you again, because let's face it, I am too thin and can't beat anyone up.

You both laughed at that and hugged each other, just enjoying the comforting bubble you two always build when together.

-Are you seeing him tomorrow? – He asked after a couple of minutes with the movie being the only sound in the room.

-Yeah. He has a photoshoot tomorrow afternoon and then a charity event. I have to go to both. – you said almost in a whisper.

-Well, then let me doll you up. I love your fashion sense, but I want to make you extra.

-Oh God, I created a monster.

-Yes you did. Call me Frankie. Now, let's eat chocolate ice cream, watch some stupid horror movies and romcons, I will get those pjs I always leave here and tomorrow I will make you look even more stunning. Okay?

-Will you not do it if I say “no"?

-Absolutely not. You will be my beautiful size 20 doll and you will like it.

You smiled softly at your friend. Maybe dolling up a bit more wouldn't be that bad.

----------

The next day you woke up at 10 a.m., the latest you had ever woken up on a Saturday, to the sight of Victor already up and checking your closed for whatever he wanted you to wear.

-Good morning sunshine! - he said in a sing song voice – I've chosen the perfect outfit for you already, so get up, eat some leftover pizza, take a shower and put on that amazing matching underwear I got you for your birthday. Go on! There is also makeup.

Groaning you made your way around doing just as he said and, surprisingly, you were content with what he had picked out for you: black leggings, a black dress-like shirt with some sparkle in it that you adored, your favorite ankle boots and your favorite leather jacket. All black, but that would be great, especially for the art exhibit. So, you put them on over the sexy lingerie he had given you as a birthday present: also black panties and a nice bra all in lace. You actually loved it.

So you put them on, applied a bit of makeup and your favorite red lipstick that always made you feel a bit more powerful and left your room.

-Oh wow. Damn bitch, you look stunning. Hot and stunning. Hotunning. - Victor said making you laugh.

-Why thank you. I have a good stylist.

-I know bitch, I know. Now Let’s go. I’ll drop you off at Sebastian’s apartment before going to Nick’s.

After a short drive you hugged Victor goodbye and thanked him for helping you out.

-Y/N, we are friends, I have no problem helping you out any time of the day. I know you still think it’s impossible for Sebastian to be into you, but I will ask you one thing and one thing only.

-Fine, what is it? - you said rolling your eyes.

-Pay attention to him today. And try to not say “it’s nothing”. See if his behavior is still the same and try to think positively, okay?

Taking a deep breath, you opened the car’s door. - I can’t make any promises, but I will pay attention.

Waving him bye you greeted the doorman and went straight for the elevators.

Going up, you couldn’t stop thinking about what V had said, but a bigger part of you kept on thinking it was just impossible.

Shrugging the thoughts out of your head, you put on your best professional face and knocked on his door before using your spare key to get in his place. What you weren’t expecting was for him to open the door for you wearing only jeans, socks and no fucking shirt; making your eyes go bigger than plates and your mouth drier than a fucking desert.

-Hey Y/N! You’re here earlier than I expected. Come in, please. You look even more beautiful as usual.

-Good morning Sebastian. I’m sorry, I was just to let myself in. I should’ve brought you some coffee. - You said after cleaning your throat and trying to focus on anything but his muscles or what he had just said. After a few seconds to do just that, you turned to him again. - Are you wearing jeans today? It’s not a problem for the photoshoot, but it’s a bit underdressed for the exhibit. I should just pack you another set of clothes. - You said moving towards his room.

-Hey hey Y/N, it’s no problem. I can just change. It’ll save us some time, right?

And just like that he unbuttoned his jeans and started to take them off in front of you.

Usually, when he had to change shirts real fast, he would do it inside of a car or whatever and you always had a few seconds to prepare yourself. But he never, ever, changed pants in front of you before. So, of course, you turned as red as your lipstick and it took you a few more seconds than it should for you to turn around and try to not droll at the sight. Key word: try.

-I will just change real fast. Sit and relax, okay?

-Sure. - You could beat yourself for the high-pitched voice, but at the moment, you were just trying to get a grip on your heart.

You sat down on his very comfortable couch and took some deep breaths that were helping you calm down. That was until he came back in only his boxers and two pants in his hands, asking you which one would go better. This mas is trying to fucking kill you, you are sure of that.

-What? - your brain was completely mushed at this point and the only thing you could see was Sebastian fuckingly-handsome Stan in only black boxers and socks in front of you, so answering anything was just not possible.

-Which one of the pants will look better for the occasion? - He asked smirking at you.

-Ahn... - You forced yourself to eye both of them – The dark blue one. It goes well with pretty much anything, is dark enough for a night-time event, but also light enough to pass as a casual look. - Finally, one good and professional answer.

-Yeah, I like this one too. And It will make me look good next to you. - He said turning around and going to his bedroom again.

-As if you wouldn’t look good any time – You said under your breath. Only to then realize what he had said. What did he mean by ‘look good next to you’? He is really ill, that must be it.

The next time he left his room he was fully dressed and smelling better than ever. The bastard was using your favorite male perfume.

-So, let’s go? - he asked adjusting his hair.

-Yeah, sure. I’ll order us some light lunch when we get to the studio. I’m calling the driver.

-Or... - He said putting his hand on top of your phone. When did he get so close to you? - We could go get lunch together since we still have time and then go to the studio. - He said smiling expectedly to you. - I know a really nice Italian place not far from there that has one of the best tiramisus I’ve ever tasted. Besides yours, of course.

This man was just a fucking player and no one could tell you otherwise. He was looking at you like a lost puppy, bringing on your love for Italian food AND telling you he had actually eaten the tiramisu you made once for your birthday? Your favorite desert ever? What the fuck is going on?

-Are you ill? - You end up asking.

He looks surprised at that. - No. Why do you ask that?

-You are just acting very weird since yesterday. As your personal assistant, I need to worry. - You said hoping you were giving your best professional face, instead of the utterly confused one you were feeling.

He looked at you for a minute, as if looking for something, only to smirk back at you. - I fell amazing, Y/N/N. And I just want to have lunch with a beautiful woman who happens to be my assistant.

-O...kay... - There goes your brain and your ovaries. Again. - I’ll call the driver.

As soon as you stepped into the kitchen to make the call Sebastian let out a full-on smile, feeling proud of himself.

Since he first hired you, he knew there was something different in the way he felt towards you. He didn’t know what it was at first, but that changed when Anthony hired that stupid Jack as his assistant and he started to flirt with you. Sebastian could swear he saw red whenever the two of you were interacting. The only thing keeping him calm on those times was seeing how you didn’t care for his intentions or maybe didn’t notice at all.

He was no fool, he knew damn well what the media kept on telling woman how the ‘perfect’ body is and how many people would give you stupid looks whenever you walked beside him. And he could admit he also believed that shit for a while. He would always look for woman deemed as ‘perfect’: tall, slim, usually blonde with big boobs. And he always had his fun with them, but that was always it. They never had anything new. Gorgeous, yes. Some of them really smart too and some quite funny. But they were pretty much always the same.

Then he began to really notice you. You were really pretty at first and had an amazing fashion sense. You would always wear what you wanted and even leggings and jeans jackets would look really put together on you. But there was more to you than that. He started to notice how you would always throw your head back when smiling, how perfect your smile was; he took notice of the way you laughed and how you always tried to help people around you. He took notice of how much you loved your friends and how proud you were when any of them were successful. He took notice of the was your Y/E/C would change in the sun, how your skin always looked so soft, and then he started to notice how much he wanted to feel you.

Gosh, he wants to feel you. Your skin, your embrace, your heat, everything.

When he realized that he tried to tell himself it was just some crazy thought that would go away in no time. But then he started to not enjoy his hook ups so much. He didn’t feel like kissing of having sex with any other woman anymore. He started to feel guilty whenever you showed up at his place to send the woman away. And then, the last drop was when he actually moaned your name while fucking another woman. She was pissed, to say the least, but also agreed to wait until you got there.

He called Anthony the very same day when he went to the gym, asked to meet him there and told him everything.

“You do know you’re in love, right?” - Anthony said to him, back then.

“No, I’m not. I just... I don’t know.” - He said frustrated with himself.

“Okay, fine then, let me ask you this: If you’re not in love with her, would you be okay if Jack started dating her? Because he wants to.” - Anthony said watching his friend’s face transform into one of pure rage only to end up punching one of the sand bags that were near them. - “Thought so. The thing is why are you so afraid to like her? You’ve dated before.”

“It’s not that. It... It will sound stupid.” - He said sitting down and lowering his head.

“Good. Love should be stupid. Go on.” - Anthony said patting his shoulder.

“Shisatntmdiaillhafafilledday” - He said with his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry what? I don’t speak Romanian or whatever language you were speaking just now”

Taking a deep breath, Sebastian let go of his face and said slowly, in a whisper - “She is, you know, fat. And the media will have a filled day.”

Anthony’s hand fell off his shoulder and made him turn to his friend only to see his face contort in the angriest he has ever seen.

“You are fucking kidding me, right? Tell me you are kidding me, please.” - Anthony said with a tremor in his voice.

“I-”

“No, that was rhetorical because you better be damn kidding with me. You know what Sebastian, I came here because I noticed your feelings for her long ago as was just waiting for you to finally figure things out. It’s so obvious and the only person who hasn’t noticed is Y/N. Don’t you have any idea why she doesn’t notice the way you look at her or the way Jack constantly flirts with her? Because we live in a fucked up society and she probably had to live her entire life hearing that no one would love her because she is fat. As if that is such a problem. As if that is a good enough reason to forget how amazing she is. She pull a fucking tough face fin front of everyone, but if you look close enough she is always looking at thin woman with longing, desperately wanting to be like them, because of people like you who care so fucking much about appearance and made her think that is the only that would make anyone like her for her.”

He was almost screaming at the end of that speech, but Anthony didn’t care at this point. He just didn’t want to make more of a scene, so he took a deep breath before looking at Sebastian right in the eyes.

“You are handsome and you were always handsome. You never had to go to school and hear people making fun of you. I bet in school girls fought for your attention, just like some woman still do today. So, you have no idea what if feels like to be different, to not meet society’s standard of beauty and grow up with people constantly tearing you apart. Fuck society and fuck the media. Since when should they rule your personal life? But if you really think that Y/N being fat is such a problem, do her a favor and leave her be. She doesn’t need someone like that messing up with her heart. Okay?”

Anthony got up and left that day, but what he said replayed on Sebastian’s mind like a broken record. And thank the gods for that. Thanks to Anthony he realized the media could go fuck themselves. He is in love with you, not just for your body, but for you. He wants your body and he wants your heart. He just wants you.

That was when he decided the was done pretending and began to make anything in his power to make you his. Starting by not going for any more random hook ups and trying to see if you could feel the same way towards him.

He hoped you did.

----------PART 2

Ok guys, I wanted it to be a one-shot but Tumblr wants to get personal with me. So, Hopefully, this part 1 won’t have any problems. Thank you to @iamdorka for pointing the problem to me.

Tagging those who showered interest in this fic and I hope this works out this time: @calumsbiceps96 @angelus320 @mikaelasingswritesloves @nutmegroo1514 and I’m tagging my lovely mutual @andyl394 who I hope also enjoys this. Let me know of any problems again, okay?

Love you guys!!!

#tnupsweetpie #fanfiction #fanfic #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x plus size reader

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colorfulrainbowfire · 6 years

Text

I eat oil paintings when security guards aren’t looking

Steve was in a weird mood. He’d woken up feeling like something big would happen today. And as a result, he spent the rest of the day in an anxious mood. Not even his Golden Retriever Cap could calm him down, and it was basically Cap’s job to calm him down. He sighed.

“Man, what the hell’s up with you today?” Asked Sam, his best friend and kind of impulse control.

“I don’t fucking know.” Mumbled Steve. “I’ve been in a weird mood the whole day. Like something big’s gonna happen today and I have no idea what!” Sam smiled encouragingly at him.

“Don’t worry too much about it. Sometimes our brain just does shit like that.” He put an arm around Steve’s shoulder. “How about we go to the Met and spend the rest of the day looking at your favorite paintings?” Steve smiled.

“That sounds awesome! Can we go right now? Pretty please!” Sam laughed.

“Sure we can buddy. I’m done for the day and I don’t have anything else planned.”

“Thanks Sam, you’re the best!”

――――――――

An hour later they arrived at the Met. Sam smiled as he watched Steve skipping ahead. Steve was like an exited puppy when art was on his brain. He was laughing and making jokes without thinking about what other people thought of him. That was something that didn’t happen very often. His social anxiety was pretty bad, especially around strangers.

“C’mon Sammy, don’t lag behind! I wanna get inside and look at the paintings sometime today!” Sam laughed.

“I’m coming buddy. Not everybody’s as young as you are.” He said and slung an arm around Steve’s shoulder. Steve shrugged him off.

“Don’t make fun of my age, Wilson.” He said and cuffed Sam over the head. Sam smiled. “C’mon asshole, we really don’t have that much time till it closes and I wanna see at least five different paintings.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Mumbled Sam.

They both had an annual pass, so they got in without having to wait very long. They got some strange looks from the security guards but they ignored them. Steve mainly because he didn’t notice them, and Sam didn’t want to start a fight when Steve was already in a shitty mood.

But as soon as they stepped inside they got approached by a security guard. He was kinda scary looking with his black suit, his dark shoulder length hair, and the dark look in his eyes. Sam squinted and steered Steve in a different direction. Like fate was on their side for once, a large group of tourists stepped between them and the security guard. Sam took Steve’s hand in his and nearly ran into one of the exhibits.

“Sam, what the fuck are you doing?” asked Steve and wrenched his hand out of Sam’s.

“Sorry buddy! I think I saw my ex and I just really don’t wanna see them right now.” He lied, not looking at Steve’s face. He was really bad at lying, and both of them knew it.

“Uh huh. Sure. Just make some noise when you wanna tell me what’s really going on.” He said and started walking. Sam cringed. He hated lying to Steve, but that was definitely a situation where it was an appropriate reaction. As soon as Steve realized the security guy wanted to talk to them, it would be over.

They already got kicked out once because Steve couldn’t keep his mouth shut and just had to tell one of the guards that one of the artists on display was a racist asshole and their art didn’t deserve a place here. Now don’t get Sam wrong, he hated injustice as much as Steve did if not more, but that did not mean he felt the need to argue with a poor security guard that had no idea what the hell was going on. And if they got kicked out again it wouldn’t matter that Steve had a few pieces in one of the exhibits for new artistic talents. They wouldn’t be allowed in again, and this place was kind of a sanctuary for Steve even though he didn’t like to admit it.

Sam looked up. And froze. The security guard was standing next to Steve and was talking animatedly with him. Sam couldn’t see Steve’s face but his raised voice was not a good sign.

――――――――

Steve was looking at one of the sculptures. It was an abstract piece that really captured his attention. It used a lot of different materials, but didn’t seem cheap or forced together.

Most of the time he preferred paintings and sketches, but every now and then he liked to sculpt, and he always appreciated well done sculptures.

“Umm, sir, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we need to talk.” Steve flinched. He hadn’t realized somebody had stepped next to him. He looked up and saw a museum security guard with beautiful facial features and even more beautiful eyes.

“Umm…” he said eloquently and looked up at the guy. “Of course, what’s up?” The guy cleared his throat and looked awkwardly at Steve.

“I’m sorry sir, but you have to leave or change your clothes.” Steve frowned and looked down at himself. He was wearing a simple T-Shirt with a print, a flannel and his bisexual pin. He looked at the security guy.

“Do you have a problem with my pin? Do you have a problem with the fact that I’m bisexual?” he asked angrily. The guy shook his head.

“NO! I just meant—“

“Cause if you do, we’re gonna have a real big problem! I’m allowed to wear whatever the fuck I want!”

“NO, seriously that’s not what I meant. I mean yo-“

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean. Guys like you always think they get away with everything like you’re some sort of god and-“

“Steve, please don’t yell at the guards!” interrupted Sam, putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder in a hopefully calming manner.

“Sam, he said I had to leave because of my pin!”

“That’s not what I meant!” the guard said loudly. “I fucking meant your T-shirt. You can’t go to a museum with a shirt that has ‘I eat oil paintings when security guards aren’t looking’ written on it!” he gestured wildly at Steve’s shirt. Steve and Sam both looked down at Steve’s shirt and like the guard said, it had ‘I eat oil paintings when security guards aren’t looking’ written on it.

Steve slowly looked at Sam and the guard.

“Oops, I don’t remember picking that shirt. I thought I was wearing one with an inspirational quote or something.” He said and looked at them sheepishly. Sam sighed.

“Man, how can you do something that stupid? That’s basically the only shirt you can’t wear to an art museum!” he looked at the guard. “I am so sorry about all of this!” The guard smiled.

“It’s alright. That shirt put the whole security staff in a bit of a panic for a sec there. It was really amusing. I’ve never seen my boss this impressed but also weirded out by a single sentence.” He shook his head. “I still think it’s genius and I want one.” Steve smiled.

“Really? I didn’t piss you off with my rant? Which I’m very sorry about, by the way.”

“Nah, I’m bi myself and I know what it’s like with all of the prejudice and stuff. I’m glad you’re willing to stick up for it!” he said and smiled at Steve. Steve blushed.

“Thanks. It really gets hard sometimes but it’s worth it in the end. And I’m really sorry for the commotion I made. I really thought I was wearing a different shirt!” The guard laughed.

“It’s okay. You made all of us laugh there. It was great. The debate of ‘What the hell are we gonna do? We can’t just let him wander around unsupervised, but that’s not a good enough reason to send him home so…’. It was hilarious.” Steve ducked his head, smiling.

“At least you got a good laugh out of it.” He said. The guard smiled. “I’m Steve by the way. Steve Rogers.”

“James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” Said the guard. Steve laughed.

“What kind of name is Bucky?”

“One that I could maybe explain to you over a cup of tea or coffee? Like a date?” asked Bucky. Steve blushed and smiled.

“Sure, I would love that!” He put his hand out and Bucky took it. Together they walked to the exhibit exit, chatting.

Sam looked after them.

“What the hell just happened?” he asked himself. He shook his head and slowly walked after them. Steve so owed him. He lost at least 5 years of his life today.

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

I had a lot of fun writing this. I love prompts!

A big thank you to @lamellas who proof read this thing! Seriously i wouldn’t know what i would’ve done without you Zoe!!

Here’s the link to it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070488

#stucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #prompt #artist steve rogers #security guard bucky #shrinkyclinks #steve rogers/james 'bucky' barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers & sam wilson friendship #my writing

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dokidokiliteraturegirls · 6 years

Text

ako fanfic stuff etc.

hi i don’t know what to title this, and this fic is so rushed and bad honestly, but i just wanted to get it done and submitted before it slips out of my motivation. so yeah, it’s really fucking shitty (i didn’t even know how to end this lmao) but i still wanna share this, i hope you’ll like it

-Submitted by @yandere-sayori

“Dammit, not again…” Ako sighs, burying herself into her bed, clutching her blanket tightly to her chest and silently cursing Monika for once again beating her to the punch on impressing Sayori. “I swear, I’m going to find some way to win over Sayori’s affection one way or another…! Even if I can’t date her no matter what, I still… I still want to win her attention for once! I want to win against Monika for once!”

But of course, as bitter as Ako is about losing to Monika over and over again in their little microaggressive competitions to win Sayori’s praise and attention, she somehow knows deep down that she is simply clinging onto false hope that she is going to win someday. It’s absurd to even think she has a chance, especially since Monika’s already Sayori’s girlfriend, so that’s an automatic point in her favour, and an advantage in everything she does to impress her. But nevertheless, Ako still wants to try, as hard as she can, to be in Sayori’s spotlight for once.

“But… I still wonder how Monika keeps doing this…” Ako sighs, rolling onto her back and staring up at her gray ceiling, “She ought to have some secret that keeps letting her win like this, and I have to find out what her advantage is. She’s always spending free time at school working on… something, in an empty classroom, and that’s really suspicious… I must stay after literature club tomorrow, and find out her secret!”

With a burning new resolve to do whatever she can to win against Monika for once in her life, Ako goes to sleep, eager for the next day.

—

The next morning, when Ako arrived at school a few minutes before school started, she’s approached by Sayori, who gives her a bright smile and an energetic “good morning!”, to which she responds with the usual monotone but still nevertheless enthusiastic, “good morning”.

“Ako, have you heard about the new museum that opened last night!?” Sayori says excitedly, seeming to have gathered from Ako’s confusion that she in fact had not. “It’s soooo cool! Monika took me there for a date right after its opening, and it’s so amazing! I never thought I’d have an appreciation for fine arts!”

Argh, of course, Monika once again beats Ako to the punch, bringing Sayori to yet another new location that opened in town. Something just doesn’t add up though. Ako’s been keeping tabs on new events in town so she could find an opening, but she’s never heard news of any fine arts museums being built, and yet this just appeared out of nowhere last night. That doesn’t make any sense at all, and it’s so suspicious that Monika would right be there at the opening to take Sayori on a date there.

“Oh, really? I don’t believe I have ever seen much of fine arts before. Perhaps you could take me there sometimes?” Ako asks in her usual coy and inquisitive tone, not that she’s purposely trying to be coy, that’s just how she is. “I would like to find inspiration to further improve my own art skills.”

“That would be soooo fun!” Sayori squeals, already going through her calendar on her phone to try to find the best time for she and Ako to hang out at the museum together.

Ako’s attention isn’t completely trained on Sayori though. Rather, she is keeping her eyes on Monika, seated a few seats from her, giving her weird stares that Ako has gotten far too used to. Ako stares at her back, as if to challenge her. She is going to find out Monika’s secret today, no matter what.

“So, we can go… oh wait! Class is starting!” Sayori exclaims, clumsily putting her phone away. “We’ll finish making plans later, okay Ako?”

Ako nods, “Yes, we can do that. I look forward to it.”

“Me too!” Sayori sure is excited.

—

After school, after the literature club, Ako lingers behind, after having pretended to head home. She stalks around the empty classrooms, waiting for the opportune moment to spy on Monika and find out whatever she does on her laptop. Maybe secret intel on the town’s newest events before they even happen? Contracting companies to build new landmarks in secret with her parents’ money? Monika, what’s your secret!

Once Ako has ensured that she is in prime position to eavesdrop and spy on Monika without being detected, she starts listening in.

“Hmm, what else can I add to this town…” Monika mumbles to herself as she tic-tacs away on her laptop, typing something to which Ako is still ignorant. Her words do seem odd though, ‘add to this town’? What is this, Sims 3? “I’ve already done the mall, the carnival, the museum…”

Strange, Ako knows those to be the new landmarks that just popped up out of nowhere. What could Monika have done with those?

“Maybe instead of adding new attractions, I should consider other kind of objects I can add. Maybe… ooh, maybe regular nightfairs. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” Monika starts clicking and typing again, Ako finding her words stranger and stranger. “Man, coding complex object files really is a task though, I still haven’t really memorized all of the codes for complex objects yet. Maybe… yeah, it can’t hurt to consult her file again. This is purely for coding consultation, nothing more. …There she is, Ako.obj.”

…What? “Ako.obj”? Ako suddenly feels a weird chill running up her spine. What… what could this possibly mean? Could this really…? No, that’s impossible, that can’t possibly be true. This doesn’t make any sense.

“Man, I’m still impressed at how complex her file is. I never knew an object file could reference so many sprites like that to the point where she’s actually animated beyond just a silhouette. And the personality codes and stuff too, just like an actual character file…“ Monika giggles a bit, “To think, all of the new landmarks in town have her coding as their ‘parent’…”

No… no that’s not right. Ako feels her entire body tensing up, and her breathing becomes constricted. This isn’t right. She’s just an object file…? Not a character file…? And Monika is… coding everything in this reality? On a laptop? And she can read everything about her?

“…I really shouldn’t, but I kinda wonder about the newest change logs.” Monika pauses and ponders a bit, before going, “Nah, just a peak can’t hurt. I doubt there’s anything there I don’t already know about anyways. Went to school… learned about the museum… making plans… …just found out she’s a–”

Even whilst cowering and no longer looking at Monika, Ako could feel Monika’s horrified stare in her direction, the… programmer god or something having found out she’s been listening the entire time. Her heart’s pounding, her vision blurry, with Monika’s stare trained on her, Ako feels like her heart’s about to burst from her chest. Not being able to take this anymore, she bolts away from her hiding place, and runs away.

—

How is this possible? How can this be? This doesn’t make any sense, and yet it’s the reality. Ako’s just… an object, in a completely fictional world, in a world where there’s… who knows how many real people there are. Maybe it’s just the literature club? It would explain why every random passerby she sees from the top of the old abandoned building suddenly seem like black silhouettes rather than real people. None of them are real either. They’re all objects, just like her. The only ones who has any kind of colour and… life, are the four at the literature club. Ako doesn’t count, she’s not alive.

Just… why does she even bother? She’s never ever going to win Sayori like that. She’s not even alive, and Monika is… some kind of a freaking god or something, she literally programs this entire world and everyone in it. She can literally delete her file at any moment and just erase her from existence. What makes Ako think she can have any chance of winning Sayori? That’s just… that’s just plain delusion. It’s not like she had a chance to begin with anyways, Monika’s already her girlfriend. Just why even bother…?

Ako looks down the abandoned building again. She’s never had a fear of heights, but she can still feel the thrill of vertigo running up her spine as she looks down at how high up she is right now. She once read somewhere that if one wants to commit suicide, jumping from the 4th story guarantees a death. She should be sufficiently high up enough to guarantee a swift death. It’ll just be a quick, painful moment, and then it’ll be all over.

There’s nothing to fear about death. Ako isn’t even alive to begin with. She’s just an object. What happens to an .obj file when it dies? An object is not a real person, an object wouldn’t have an afterlife. Not that a fictitious world would have one to begin with. Taking off her shoes and leaving them behind, Ako’s about to find out what happens after death.

“Wait-! Please, don’t!”

Ako stops, just before she steps off the edge of the building, when she hears Sayori’s voice. She had a feeling she was going to try and stop her.

Still panting from having run so much to catch up to her, Sayori says exasperatedly, “Please, don’t jump, Ako-! Just… please, don’t do this…”

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Ako asks solemnly, “Sayori, why do you care? I’m not a real person. I’m just an object. You should save your energy for someone who actually deserves it.”

“Ako, don’t… don’t say that…” Sayori cries, desperation in her voice, “You’re… you’re my friend, Ako, and I really don’t have many! I don’t want to see you go, not like this…!”

“Sayori, I know the truth.” Ako says, her voice depressed, “I’m an object file. I’m not a character file, I’m not a living being, I never was. I don’t belong in… in the literature club. It doesn’t matter if I’m gone, nothing is going to change.”

“That’s not true at all! It matters to me, to Natsuki, to Yuri, to Monika! It matters to me, and all of our friends!”

“Monika?” Ako turns around and glares sharply, her expression finally changed from indifference to anger, “Sayori, you know as well as I she’s never going to accept me, that she’s always going to have your affections. She’s not just your girlfriend, she has freaking god powers, Sayori, and I’m just a fucking object. There’s nothing, not a fucking thing I can ever do that’s ever going to deserve your… your love, Sayori…!”

As much as Ako wanted to keep her angry disposition, in an attempt to intimidate Sayori into backing off and leaving her to die alone, as she finally admits to her true desires, her voice breaks and her tears well up. She didn’t want Sayori to realize her weakness, she didn’t want Sayori to care so she could just leave everything behind, and she’s so angry at Sayori for giving her second thoughts about dying.

“Ako, that’s… that’s not true…” Sayori tears up herself, finally seeming to realize Ako’s true feelings beyond just her words, “Ako, you’re my best friend, you don’t need to compete with her like this. I know… I know that she’s still being difficult about accepting you, but Ako, that doesn’t mean I love you any less…! I don’t care if you’re an .obj file or a .chr file, you’re my best friend, and I care for you so deeply! Like, there’s just…Ako, you… you and Monika are the two closest people to me in my life, I can’t bear losing you…!”

“Sayori…” Ako reaches up and wipes away her tears, just as they start to roll down her cheeks. Even now, she doesn’t want to show any weakness to Sayori, wishing she would just leave her alone already. “But why…? I’m not… I’m not even alive, I’m just… I’m just a silhouette given an image… why did you even approach me that day at the library…?”

“I… I don’t know why I did, but I don’t care.” Sayori sniffs, and blows her nose into her handkerchief before continuing, “Nothing… this entire world is just a game with complex programming anyways, nothing’s real, not even me, Ako. I’m… I’m ultimately just a file too, but I don’t care.. You’ve made my life so much better ever since you came into my life, you’ve been such a friend, even through our ups and downs, and we’ve shared so many beautiful moments together. So I don’t… I don’t ever want to lose you, Ako… “

Unable to hold herself back any longer, Ako hugs Sayori tightly, sobbing out all of the tumultuous emotions that has festered within her all day, as her best friend does the same, holding onto her tightly and crying into her shoulder. Although she’s still shaky and vulnerable, Ako finds comfort and solace in her best friend’s arms. And, for the moment, finally feels as if all is at ease.

—

“Ako, I want to apologize for having mistreated you all this time.” Monika sighs, her laptop closed, “I haven’t been handling my jealousy well at all, and have just been really unfair to you, even going as far as violating your privacy by using your file as a guide. I’m sorry.”

“…It’s fine.” Ako says nonchalantly, seeming to have returned to her usual monotone, the only signs of emotions on her being the redness around her eyes after having bawled her eyes out. “You just wanted to make a beautiful world for your girlfriend.”

“Ako…” Sayori frowns and pouts. As flattered as she is to hear that, since it very much is true that Monika has been generating new content for her sake, she doesn’t really want Ako to just resign like this.

“No, like I said, this isn’t fair to you.” Monika says firmly, and adds, “I promise I won’t open your file again, and that if I really want to start learning to program more complex objects, I’ll learn through legitimate means rather than just copy and pasting parts of your file. In fact, if you want, I’ll even ask Sayori to put a password on your file so I can’t access it-”

“That won’t be necessary.” Ako says, smiling a bit. “I appreciate the sentiment though.”

For a moment, Monika eyes up Ako’s smile a bit, seeming to interpret it as a smug smile at having won against her for once, before Sayori suddenly steps in and says, “Okay, the both of you, from now on, no more competing over me, okay?”

Ako and Monika both turn their attention to Sayori, a curious look on their faces. Sayori continues, “These… these little competitions were nice and all, but now they’re amounting to nothing more than causing trouble. Monika, you’re my girlfriend, and you know I’m always going to love you romantically as my girlfriend. Ako, you’re my best friend, and you are as important to me as Monika is. So just please, stop competing for my attention, okay-? I’m always going to love the both of you a lot, and I’m always going to want to spend more time with the both of you. So just please, get along-?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“Very well, I won’t.”

Sayori gives a small smile, and pulls Ako and Monika both in for a tight hug. “Seriously, I love you two so much, you two have brought more meaning to my life than anything else, and I never, ever want to let you go.”

“Sayori… I love you too.” Monika returns the hug, putting her arms around both Sayori and Ako, although at first hesitant about being so close to Ako. “I’ll work on my issues more so they’ll stop causing trouble.”

“Sayori…” Ako says quietly, and returns the hug as well, hugging Monika as well. “…Thank you. Thank you so much…”

#❤️❤️❤️AAAAAAAAHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD AND SO CUTE OMG I LOVE IIIIIIIIIT ❤️#thank you soooooooo much for taking the time to write this it is fantastic!!!#thank you thank you thank youuu ❤️#fanart #fanfic #tw: suicide #submission

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berrytaetae · 6 years

Text

college!taehyung ♡

a/n: i was inspired by my favourite - @warmau - to start writing; if you want to read some beautiful imagines, please read her work if you haven’t alreadyㅠㅠ i love this boy very much so i hope i did him justice... since this is my first imagine, constructive criticism is much appreciated! also, please feel free to message me - i have no friends :) -🍓

being the fashion major that he was, taehyung was always around campus looking like a greek god

even if what he was wearing included a kilt and a pair of sandals, he was always turning heads wherever he went

of course... his hair was no exception

it was basically his canvas, painting whatever new colour he wanted onto it

people would always ask whether he was worried about his hair falling out but taehyung just smiled his wide, rectangular smile and said that it was fine! he always wanted to try shaving his head anyway

and although the fashion majors were known for keeping to themselves, there was not one student who could say that they had never heard of taehyung

he was quite the social butterfly, always at college parties with his best friends, dance major jimin and film major jungkook

he wasn’t one of those people who went out to forget about their problems and wake up in some stranger’s bed in the morning

no, taehyung was always found dancing and laughing with some new friend he had just made

don’t get me wrong, taehyung enjoyed a shot of soju every now and then... he just knew how to control himself

of course, you knew of taehyung as well - he was infamous for his good looks after all - but you had never crossed paths

that was until one day, a friend from your study group had urgently called you because they had left their graphic design portfolio behind in the library and you, being the amazing friend that you were, had promised to pick it up and drop it off at the art building after class

after a long, emotional exchange of “you just saved my life” and “i owe you big time”, you had decided to wander around a bit... you had finished all your classes for the day anyway and you had never been to this part of the school before

so as you were walking around, listening to some music and admiring all the pretty paintings and sculptures, you hadn’t even noticed that someone else had joined you

it wasn’t until you had stopped in front of a particularly stunning watercolour painting that you had realised a boy was talking directly to you

taking your earphones out and apologising for your ignorance, you looked up to notice that this was not just some boy... no... this man standing next to you was the one and only kim taehyung... and wow he was even more attractive than you had imagined

stopping yourself from staring for too long, you stuttered, “i-i’m sorry... i didn’t quite catch what you were saying”

with a glistening smile, he repeated, “that’s okay! i was just asking what you found most beautiful about this painting?”

and before you could tell him that no, you weren’t an art major, taehyung started describing all the small details about what he believed the student was trying to convey through this form of expression

and you didn’t know what it was, but something about the way that he had captured the beauty of the painting in his words had prompted you to do the same

so you carefully explained everything from the colour, texture and composition to what you had interpreted differently about the symbolism of the painting to taehyung who was listening intently on what you had to say

and when you were done, he moved onto the next piece, doing exactly the same

you lost track of how long you guys had been talking for, but as you came to the last few displays, you noticed that the sun had already set and the cleaners were telling you guys to leave because they had to lock up the building

so taehyung and you went your separate ways and...

that was it

you hadn’t talked about anything else let alone exchange numbers... heck, if he wasn’t already known as the boy who caused way too many heart palpitations, you didn’t think you would have even caught his name

so you didn’t think much of your small encounter with taehyung until a few days later when you were grabbing lunch at the cafeteria

you were chatting with a friend, talking about the stress of exams and assignments, when you had reached out for the last bottle of banana milk

but instead of the cool plastic of the bottle, you were met with a soft, squishy object...?

and looking to your left, you had once again come face-to-face with kim taehyung for the second time that week

with a smirk, he snickered, “i see you can’t get enough of me”

“you’re the one who keeps following me around”

“and you’re the one who’s about to steal my banana milk”

and that’s when you began to rant about the shitty mess of a morning you had just experienced with someone spilling coffee all over your new white top and how your professor got angry at you for something you hadn’t even done when taehyung stopped you with a wink and said “don’t worry - i’ll strike you a deal. you get the milk if you help me with my next project”

and maybe it was the thought of not getting your banana milk that day or the way that taehyung had winked at you, but without a second thought, you had agreed to his proposal

so after handing you a napkin that he had quickly scribbled his number on, taehyung was gone as fast as he had appeared leaving both you and your friend dumbstruck in the middle of the cafeteria

“what was tha-”

“i don’t even know.”

that night, you had received a text from taehyung properly introducing himself and asking when you were free

and in a couple of minutes, you two had decided to meet at the cute cafe near campus the following tuesday

you couldn’t tell if something out there had decided to play tricks on you, but you swore that time moved infinitely slower in the days leading up to your date(?) with taehyung

but you planned out a super cute outfit for the day anyway

and when you got there, sitting down with your beverage of choice, you nearly choked when taehyung revealed what his exact plans for his next project actually were

“the fashion majors are holding a fashion show and i need you to be my model”

your first instinct was to immediately decline - you couldn’t walk down an entire hall without tripping let alone an entire runwary

but the excited look on his face stopped the words from slipping out and you were forced to nod your head with a sigh of resignation

so your next few weeks were filled with countless sessions of sketching, measuring and sewing

the hours would include taehyung groaning as he stained yet another one of his drawings with coffee as he worked on his project while you studied next to him until he needed to take his next measurement

but you guys got along well too well

taehyung would always make you laugh until you had tears wellling in your eyes and the people around you were annoyed from the amount of noise

and there was the small smiles and touches and the pink tint of blushing cheeks

and the moments of eye contact that lasted a little too long to be accidental

it didn’t help that taehyung was also a gentleman - he always offered to pay for your drink, brought you your favourite snacks from the convenience store and walked you to your dorm

but as much as you pleaded, he never showed you what he was working on, keeping everything as secret as possible

all you got were glimpses of fabrics and thread - nothing more and nothing less

and before the two of you knew it, it was the day of the fashion show

you, of course, were nervous

you had never done anything like this before and you didn’t even know what you were wearing for goodness sake

taehyung could have made you a clown costume for all you knew

but when you saw his bright smile greeting you and asking you to close your eyes, you suddenly felt the butterflies in your stomach become something more than just the thought of walking down a runway

with taehyung’s hands covering your eyes, making sure you wouldn’t peak, and a countdown from three, you were soon confronted by the most beautiful outfit you had ever seen

the white silk, adorned with the most intricate, fine details, caught the lights around it in the most beautiful ways

and the thought of taehyung working tireless hours to perfect this dress to fit every curve of your body made all your insides feel giddy

so in the spur of the moment, you threw yourself into taehyung’s arms, overwhelmed with the spectacular masterpiece that stood before you

but to your surprise, taehyung’s soft lips pressed against yours and you could feel him smile into the kiss

and in a soft whisper, taehyung asked, “before you try it on, i need to ask you something...”

and with a small nod of approval from you, he continued, “will you go out with me?”

“only if you let me keep the dress”

“i was going to let you keep it anyways”

“in that case, i’ll be happy to go out with you”

and that’s how you and taehyung became the most iconic couple on campus

like you guys constantly look like aesthetic couple pictures come to life with the matching outfits and everything

and you quickly come to learn that wow, this boy loves to cuddle

tbh he probably loves being the little spoon just as much as he loves being the big spoon uwu

when you guys are together, he always comes up from behind and wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head and shoulders

taehyung’s favourite place to take you out is the movies

he loves the feeling of the dark, open space

like he isn’t one of those people who gets bored halfway through a movie and starts making out with their significant other

no... taehyung is the type of person who will put all the armrests up and cuddle you through the whole movie AND the credits (”because what if there’s a post-credits scene that just makes everything perfect” he says)

once, taehyung had dyed his hair bright red and you refused to call him anything but ‘berry boy’ for an entire week

he eventually convinced you to dye your hair as well so it was a win-win situation in the end

his favourite place to kiss you is your neck and collarbones

“they’re made perfectly for my face” he says

and taehyung is honestly just boyfriend material™... like he would treat you riGHT

he would always buy you a bottle of banana milk and put it in your bag where you would find it with a cute note stuck onto it

and sometimes he would take you to fancy dinners where y’all would hold hands and enjoy a plate of spaghetti ‘lady and the tramp’-style with some glasses of wine

while on other days, he would take you on a picnic on the roof of some building so you could go stargazing

and sooner or later he would end up lying on your lap while you played with his hair, asking each other deep and personal questions about life

and taehyung would genuinely listen to all your answers because he thinks that your mind is just as beautiful as your face

and with closed eyes and a goofy grin on his face, he would tell you how much he loves you

and while you’re at it, give yourself a pat on the back because wow, you managed to score yourself a kim taehyung

#wow this was too cute #can someone please find me a taehyung #also can you tell that i love taehyung's red hair #bring back taehyung's red hair bighit #bts #bts v #kim taehyung #bts scenarios #bts imagines #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #bts v imagine #bts v scenarios #bts au

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franeridart · 7 years

Note

I don't know if I like what the manga is doing with the eri story wise right now. Like, after the new chapter, if eri's quirk ends up doing what I think it does, it will probably be a huge loss for the manga story wise. (I love mirio and nighteye, but in this situation, to get them back this way, would probably feel like a huge cop out)

Ah, can’t say you find me on your side on this, anon - generally I’m a positive person! And I like bnha because it’s a positive story! So, yeah, if Eri’s gonna fix it and avoid deaths and permanent damages all around I’m not gonna mind it one bit. I understand your position on this tho, and I’m pretty sure you’re not alone on it. I guess it’s about what you’re looking for in a story, and what the point the story means to bring across is to begin with - you say that having an all around positive outcome to this arc is gonna be a loss for the manga, but bnha isn’t snk. It’s not Tokyo Ghoul, or D.Gray-man, or any other story made to drive across the point that life is sad and sad things happen and you just gotta deal with it as best as you can. The general point of HeroAca, since the very beginning, is that luck exists! Things can turn out for the best! Look at it, our protagonist didn’t even have a quirk and now he’s got the best one out there. Literally became the successor to the greatest hero alive without doing anything aside from being a nice guy

I mean. I get why you’d wish for a... more real story, I guess. I get that you might like the angst and the realness of life being shitty and bad things happening and all that jazz. But that’s never been bnha’s point? Since the very start? Deku’s whole arc is turning into a fight to show you that you should never lose hope and that even set futures can still be rewritten - and, about that, there’s also how big part of this arc is still about Nighteye and what he saw in All Might’s future, and about Deku wanting to prove that he doesn’t have to die, so a girl that can literally rewind said future to make it go some other way? That’s exactly what you need to counter Nighteye’s quirk. Deku might talk about twisting fate all he wants, but considering how Nighteye’s quirk works and how precise and definitive it is, without something that can make what Nighteye saw happen just to bring it back and change it there was no way Deku could have done much.

As I said, I get why you’d be disappointed in the possibility of a total fix-it, but as far as bnha’s plot goes I don’t think the story’s gonna lose anything with simply keeping up the positive-to-a-naive-point look on life it has always had, if that’s what it decides to do. You might end up finding the story less good then you’d been expecting, but that’s because you were seeing bnha as a genre it has never even tried to be. This is still a story in which at some point holding hands saved the day, after all haha

Anon said:you always thanks horikoshi for your life but seriously, thank you, for my life

sob you’re so sweet oh my GOD ;O; thank you so much, I’m so so happy you’re liking my stuff!!!

Anon said:YOUR LATEST KIRIBAKU COMIC KILLED ME AND I THANK YOU FOR THAT YOU TALENTED HUMAN BEING

WAAAHHHHHHHH I’M GLAD YOU LIKED IT OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Would you ever draw anything nsfw or at least a little bit steamy?? I would love to see some of that in you style

That’s actually answered in my faq! But yeah to keep it short the answer is nope, I try to keep my blogs as sfw as I can manage! Also why would you want to see that sorta thing in my style omfg hahaha I feel like it would just end up looking wrong lmao

Anon said:im legit crying over this kiribaku comic 😭😭😭 bless you

I’m super happy you liked it but please don’t cry omfg !!!!*hands you tissues*

Anon said:......LISTen!! !! ! I LOVE U SO MUCH!!! !! ! and thank u for the super quality content b l e s s u p! ! !!!

AAAAHHHHH I LOVE U TOO THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!!!!

Anon said:I rambled about it and I'm still blown away by it but that comic made my day so so so so so much I feel blessed. I was so excited when I saw how much there was and all of it!!! Was so good!!!! The art was consistently amazing and gosh u blow me away ur so good!!! I know it must've taken a lot and doing all that and SO WELL in 3 days??? I rlly appreciate the effort u put in and I wanted to let you know I think it was incredible C: I hope ur having as lovely as a day as that comic made mine

I’m gonna legit start sobbing, thank you so so so so much ;O; it did take a whole damn lot of work, but with how nice you’re being I feel like it was 100% worth it!!!

Anon said:your comic totally made my saturday, kiri is so cuuute wtf?? and baku so hella pretty? i mean, the way you draw him?? i cant rlly explain it but thank you for this beauty on my dashboard. i have all those warm mushy feelings when i see your stuff

Thank you!!!! and I’m happy I could make you feel the mushy feels hahaha feeling mushy mush is good I’m always glad when I’m told I managed to convey that !!!!

Anon said:your comics were so cute and so well drawn!! your art always puts a smile on my face :)

And your nice words put a smile on mine so now we’re both smiling and happy!!!!!! I love that!!!!!! :D

Anon said:bless you and thank you for the kiribaku content, you're making my day every time dude

You’re all!!!! so kind!!!!!!! aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thank you

Anon said:dRAW KIRISHIMA'S BLACK HAIR SPIKY OMG

That’s actually a nice idea, but can I maybe ask you to come around again with a “please” and “could you”? I’m sure you didn’t mean anything bad by it and I love the enthusiasm, but I prefer it when people are being polite when asking for stuff out of me

Anon said:Okay, how bout this? Bakushima Skyrim AU. This might be a little too close to the fantasy AU but hear me out. So Bakugoi Katsuki is a Breton Spellsword who is commanded by his lord (Aizawa) to go help the Empire with the Stormcloak Rebellion, he is then sent to Helgen by General Tullius to investigate its sudden communication silence. He then meets Kirishima (Eric the Slayer) at Rorikstead who is immediately fascinated by him, they end up traveling together and discover that Bakugo is dragonborn

I mean!!! That sounds like an incredible concept!!! But I’ve never played skyrim in my life before and I could barely manage to follow this ask all the way through, so I’m probably not the best person to suggest this to haha

Anon said:is momo your first option for our lil rocker lesbian or is it mina?

What a question! And one I don’t have a proper answer to, actually - I like both of them equally but for completely different reasons? MomoJirou is the type of ship I sorta see as more or less canon, like, they’re pretty damn obvious aren’t they? And they’re besties! And the aesthetics work so well! So generally I’m like, if I gotta pick one person for Jirou, basing the decision solely on canon stuff, I’m gonna pick Momo. They’re soft and warm too, have sort of a coffee-shop-AU feel to them, I love it

On the other hand Jirou and Mina don’t really have a significant relationship in canon yet - they’re friends and chill together now and again, but haven’t really interacted much in a proper way for me to say “yes, I can see it, this is a ship with some serious foundation” like I can with Momo. But. I understand this ship in a way I can’t seem to manage with MomoJirou. What Jirou would love in Mina and what Mina would love in Jirou, why they’d love each other, how they’d spend their time together and what the general feel of their story would be - the mood of it and the reasons behind it, I understand them, and I can’t seem to manage to do that with Momo yet.

So the actual answer is, if it’s about which of the two gives me more of a “this might actually be canon” feel, then it’s Momo. I do believe they love each other and their relationship is lovely. But if it’s about which of the two I have more fun thinking about, then Mina. It’s two very different ships with very different moods, after all haha

Anon said:your latest warm up my heart!!! man i love how you draw izuku and eri and mirio and well all of them but you dont often draw izuku especially congrats i never want to look away from it

I’M GLAD YOU LIKED THAT ONE I’m actually weirdly proud of how that Izuku came out since usually I can barely manage to make him look like himself, so!!!! thank you!!!!!!

Anon said:Fran, hi! I saw some drawings of you (like, YOU) and I got under the impression that you're really tall??? Would you mind telling us your height? If it's too weird and it gets you uncomfortable, please, just ignore!

I decieved you, anon lmao I’m ~160cm, more or less like my girl Mina! Still the tallest girl in my family, but a small bean none the less in the grand scheme of things haha

Anon said:EVERY AU WHERE ALMA LIVES AND IS TOGETHER WITH YUU BEING HAPPY AND LOVED IS A VERY VERY GOOD AU!!! 💕

WHAT A CONSTANT ETERNAL MOOD THO

Anon said:Looking at your art reminds me that there still are good things to look forward to. Thank you.

This is such a soft ask??? Oh my god???? Thank you so much for the kind feeling!!!

Anon said:you did!! A background on the momojirou!! And I LOVE IT!!

I’M HAPPY YOU LIKED IT!!!!! It’s just flowers, tho haha

Anon said:Your art is so nice to look at, it's really soft and pretty and looking at it makes me really happy!! I fell in love with your style the moment I saw it. Thank you for making such lovely art and posting it here, I really appreciate getting to see it ♡♡♡

;O; thank you so much oh my god!!!! I still feel like it’s sort of all over the place, but this ask makes me feel so much better about it aaah!!!!!!

Anon said:minajirou!! i never thought about so thank you fran bcause its so cute!! and soft!! and bright!! my best girls yess

THEY’RE GOOD AREN’T THEY bright beautiful ladies they make me so happy hahaha

Anon said:Your blog has changed my life for the better. thank you

I’m sure that’s an exaggeration omfg but I’m happy I can make you happy!!!

Anon said:Gosh Fran, I just wait for Kirishima with his hair down to be animated. Thank god you indulge us with your doodles of his fluffy hair down while we wait! On another note... I love how you add some random details in your drawings (like Kiri's tag sticking out lol).

THANK YOU for noticing even the small things like that hahaha some details like that are more for my personal amusement than anything else, but it’s nice to know some people pick up on them too hahaha

#fran answers #taking a break from drawing today to let my hands rest #and my back too #sometimes i should think about this sorta stuff as well #........................#then again tomorrow and the day after i won't be able to draw as well so #maybe i'll indulge a bit later #who knows #!!#anonymous

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hoenursey · 8 years

Text

worst behavior || nursey + jack

“Nursey.”

He doesn’t answer him, typing away at his keyboard in a way that’s visibly agitated, or at least irritable. What are normally soft, smooth clicks against the mac’s surface are now harsh, broken-sounding; each near-slam of his slim fingers makes a sharp clack in the quiet of the haus’ living room.

“Nursey,” Jack says again.

The continued silence makes it clear that he’s being ignored. Inwardly, he sighs.

“Twenty-eight, your captain is talking to you. Answer, now.”

“Yo, Captain. Didn’t see you there,” Nursey drawls. Jack makes the executive decision not to call him out on his blatant lie and gets to his knees so that he doesn’t loom over Nursey where he’s scrunched up in the corner.

“You’ve been tense lately. There’s something wrong with you. What is it?” Shit, that was probably the wrong way to go about it, but it’s already been said. Something flickers across Nurse’s face too fast for him to identify, and even if it had been obvious, he’s not sure if he’d be able to properly identify what it was then either.

“There’s plenty of shit wrong with me. There’s plenty of shit wrong with you, too. We’re both older than the people in our respective grades for a reason, Capitane.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. You’ve been snapping at people, aggressive on the ice like you usually aren’t, fighting with Dex more often. You nearly dropped your gloves last game.”

“It’s an aggressive sport. I’m still playing good hockey, aren’t I?” Nursey asks, his tone deceptively lazy.

Jack makes a quietly frustrated noise. “You’re playing damn good hockey. You know that. You’re a great player and a hard worker. You’re serious in practice. But you aren’t okay. You–”

“Why do you care?”

Jack stops. “What?”

Nursey raises a brow. It’s a little condescending. “I said, why. do. you. care.”

“I’m your captain, of course I care, Nursey,” Jack says. “It’s my job to care about your wellbeing.”

“On the ice,” Nursey shoots back. “Dunno about you, but i’m not seeing any ice. I think it’s hardwood, actually.”

“Nursey, you’re being purposefully obtuse and I know you’re smart as hell. I’m worried about you. You don’t have to…” Still frustrated, he switches to French to calm himself down.

<< “You can tell me what’s wrong. I won’t tell anybody, but I have a right to know what’s affecting my players because it can affect the team in the long run. You’re maintaining because you’re a good player but that won’t last forever. I pay attention. I know you’re upset about something. Just spit it out.” >>

<< “All you pay attention to is hockey and your major. Your whole schedule is ‘eat sleep hockey class hockey, Bitty, Shitty, Lardo repeat’. You’re all in on that shit. That’s fine, but I don’t fall under that list. My problems aren’t yours until they affect you on the ice, and from what you’ve said, they haven’t.” >>

<< “It’s being preemptive,” >> Jack protests. << “I care about the whole team. I want to know.” >>

<< “Every reporter in America wanted to know about you, didn’t they? And they still don’t know the truth. It wasn’t their business, and it was a matter of privacy. I don’t ask you. Don’t ask me,” >> Nursey says, and the note of bitterness along with the icy coolness in his tone is enough to make Jack back off a little, because… well, Nursey’s sort of right. It’s his privacy.

“Euh… I, uh. Yeah. Yeah,” Jack manages to get out. “I'm… damn. Désolé, Nursey.”

Some of the tension fades from Nursey’s shoulders and what he thinks is surprise lights in his sleepy green eyes, but it disappears quickly.

“C'est bien. I’ve got to finish this paper before midnight, though, so, like…”

“Yeah, sure. Uh. Good… luck. I hope you do well.”

“Thanks.”

For the next week, Jack tries to be a little nicer to Nursey– to all of the frogs, actually, because Nursey had a point: he didn’t really get close to many people and when he did, he stuck with them and didn’t oftentimes branch out. Chowder is of course delighted, but he’s fairly excited by most things; Dex is a little more hesitant, but Jack remembers details about people, and he asks for a basic tutorial on how to fix small things around the house for his new apartment wherever he goes and the freshman warms right up to him, even if he talks a little fast and seems a little redder than usual. He takes time out for Ransom and Holster, too, who seem surprised but pleased, and willing to be around him; he finds he likes it even outside of their haus movie nights.

Jack doesn’t exactly seek out Nursey, but he does know now because of Dex that he tends to seek out Lardo when he’s thinking about anything. He’d asked the younger defenseman, which he had gone a little odd about.

“Why?” he asked suspiciously, gripping his stick. “Is he in trouble?”

“No,” Jack tried to say, but Dex barreled on.

“Who did he yell at? Was it Chowder? Was it you? He’s weird but he probably didn’t mean it, Jack, I swear, and he’s been weirder than normal it’s probably some dumb art thing-”

“Dex,” Jack said firmly. “Nursey’s not in trouble and he didn’t yell at anyone. I’m just trying to figure out where he hangs out so that if I ever need him, I know where to find him. He’s the only person I don’t know where he goes.”

Dex blinked. “Oh.”

“And you shouldn’t say that,” Jack added. “Art’s important. Most of the stuff we know about history is because of art.”

“I. Uh. Yeah? Sorry. Sorry, Jack,” he stammered out, flushing badly. “He hangs out with Lardo and Shitty.”

“Thanks. And thanks for showing up to optional skate. Go warm up.”

“Yes sir.”

The next time Shitty’s room smells prominently of weed– enough that the rest of the haus gets a bit of a contact high– Jack slips inside and sure enough, Nursey is there, laid out on his back with a joint between his lips, his eyes closed.

“Yo, Zimmermann,” Lardo says lazily. Shitty vaguely waves an arm: he’s face down on his bed, his laptop open on what looks like a college application, probably Harvard again. A choking noise comes from over Nursey’s direction, but Jack ignores it and settles next to Lardo, who promptly eases into his lap like a cat. He tucks his chin over her head and she makes a happy noise that rumbles against his chest.

“You smoke?” Nursey asks, wary.

Jack shrugs. “Sometimes. Not always. Not often. It helps, y’know? With the anxiety. Stress.”

“Jack usually just sits in here,” Lardo supplies. “It’s better than his meds sometimes. Right Jack?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, and squeezes her lightly around the waist.

“I know,” Nursey says under his breath–he already talks at a low pitched little thing, almost a mutter– and it’s just quiet enough that he almost misses it.

Huh.

Jack does end up taking a couple hits, just enough to give him a buzz, then spends the rest of the time playing with Lardo’s hair and eventually, Shitty’s. He’s good at braids. The wariness doesn’t fade from Nursey’s eyes, not quite or at least not all the way, but the tension does.

“Hey, Bit- uh, Bitty?” Jack asks from the doorway. It’s warm in the kitchen, and something pop-y and light is playing, which makes sense, because Bittle’s arms are covered from fingertip to elbow in flour. He gets distracted for a second, staring at the contrast between his now ghost-white forearms and sun-kissed upper arms and shoulders, until Bitty says, “Oh, Jack! I’m sorry, you haven’t been standing there long, have you? C’mon in here, Lord, you ain’t gotta stand there, it’s your house too.”

“Right, yeah.” Jack steps in, and Bittle looks up at him expectantly for a minute until he remembers that he’s here for something, and not just to hover around while he makes food.

“Uh, do you know Nursey’s favourite pie?” He asks.

One little blond brow quirks up at him. “Yes, Jack, I know all of your favourites. It’s sweet potato. How come?”

“No reason,” he says evasively. It doesn’t work. Bitty’s mouth turns up at the corner a little, and he leans his hip against the counter, dusting his hands off.

“So you just… happen to be asking what Nursey’s favourite pie is, randomly? No reason behind it at all, hm? Why not Ransom’s? Or mine?”

“Yours is peach-lemon,” Jack says immediately. He isn’t sure why he knows that, but then Bitty’s cheeks go a little pink, and something sort of twinges in him and goes That’s why. Because Bitty likes when we remember stuff about him. He ignores it– aggressively– and instead pounces on the fact that Bitty is now in a good mood if he wasn’t already.

“Do you think you could maybe make a sweet potato pie? Just, uh don’t let the boys get at it, eh? It’s a surprise, kind of? A pick me up?” He’s rambling, a little, but it’s not like he talks a hell of a lot anyways.

Bitty’s brow creases a little, which means he probably said something wrong, but he can’t take it back now.

“Jack, is Nursey alright?” He moves to grab something, a pie tin, and starts shaping the dough within it. “Now that I think about it, he’s seemed a little off, but I thought he was just tired because of class, I should’ve said somethin’, i’ve been so distracted by this dang blog that I haven’t even tried! I wish someone had said–”

“Bitty,” he says firmly, a little loud. The smaller man looks up, startled.

“Was I rambling again? My bad. I’m just–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, I do it too. Can you make the pie?”

“Of course, Jack. When do you need it by?”

“Tonight would be. That would would be good, if you can. Or tomorrow night, either way, it doesn’t really matter–”

“I’ll make it tonight,” Bitty says cheerily. “Don’t you worry your head, i’ll just make a murder run and i’ll use this crust here, buy some more stuff for another since we’re dang near outta flour anyways.”

“I can, uh, come with you, and help you carry your stuff back from the store? Or just so you don’t have to walk alone…?”

He looks surprised at the offer, and maybe a little touched. “Oh, Jack– I mean, if you’re busy, you don’t hafta, but i’d sure appreciate it if you’re sure you want to.”

“I’m sure. I’ll grab my phone. You should grab a jacket.”

“Chirp, chirp, chirp, Mr. Zimmermann. I’ll get you back one a’ these days, mark my words.”

It’s a little late by Jack’s standards when they finally finish up the pie; somewhere in the middle, Bitty had gotten the idea for a marshmallow top crust and had absolutely needed to work it out on paper for later, on a pie that didn’t have so much weighing on it. Still, it comes out well, and Bitty bags him up, sends him off with the pie, a container of cool whip, and a thermos of milk, “In case you decide not to drink those beers with my pie,” he says, gesturing to the two bottles with their slim necks tangled between his fingers.

Jack thanks him and Bitty sends him off with a smile. He stands in the doorway, waving, and it makes him warm and a little less anxious about what he’s about to do to know that he has the support of the younger man. Got your back, he thinks, and knows they all mean it.

Jack knocks softly at Nursey’s door, as gently as he can with the two bottles clutched in his hand. There’s a loud scuffling noise, some brief swearing, and what sounds like chips being crushed, and then Nursey opens the door.

He looks… kind of a mess. Not that Jack judges anyone who looks a mess, because he’s very, very familiar with that look, but he looks bad, like he’s genuinely not feeling well.

“Jack?” Nursey croaks, then looks startled at the sound of his own voice. He clears his throat quietly, then speaks up again. “Uh- what are you doing here?”

“I brought a pie,” he says, awkwardly holding it aloft. Nursey looks at him, the pie, the beers, and then back at him, then silently backs away from the door to allow him inside the dorm.

Jack ducks his head, pleased, and eases inside, beelining for the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Nursey trailing slowly behind him; he can’t see the expression on his face, but somehow he doubts it would tell him much.

“I’ve got milk, too,” Jack offers when he sits down. “Bitty packed it in… euh, a thermos.”

“Beer’s fine,” Nursey murmurs. He hesitates, hovering by the table for a second before going over to the cabinet and grabbing something. Until he turns around, Jack doesn’t see it, but when the freshman settles in a chair he sets the item (items?) on the table: two little forks and a bottle opener. “Oh, thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Jack unwraps the foil from the crust and peels the cling wrap off, then slides it Nursey’s way while he cracks open the beers. He remains mostly socially polite and doesn’t eat before him, though he pulls off a bit of crust and nibbles at it until Jack offers him his beer. The freshman raises it in mock salute before pressing his lips to the rim and drinking deeply from it.

Jack digs his fork in quietly, which gives Nursey the go ahead to hesitantly slide in his fork with his own.

They’re like that for a while, just the sound of quiet eating and their bottles settling on the table every so often. Jack watches Nursey as he works his way through the pie; only the glow of the light above the stove illuminates the little kitchen.

Maybe half of the pie is gone when Nursey speaks up.

“So we gonna do this after pie or during? Because it’s kinda late and I’ve got an eight am tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Jack says. “Or– well, yeah, sorry for that, but, euh… I wanted to say sorry.”

Nursey blinks at him.

“For prying,” Jack says. Awkwardness creeps into his tone at the blank silence he receives. “Uh, earlier, in the week? You…”

“No, I know what you’re talking about,” Nursey interrupts. “Just. That was kind of… unexpected.”

He is instantly so, so fucking relieved.

“I mean it. You were right, I don’t– i’m not entitled to knowing. That’s not my business. And I don’t pay attention to everyone. I’ve been trying to get better at that, which is kind of why I was doing the prying. You didn’t see me last year, but I wasn’t who I am now, and even who I am now isn’t really great. I’m a lot better,” he says earnestly, waving his fork a bit as he spoke. “So i’m sorry. That was hypocritical of me, eh? To ask for all that when I don’t tell anybody? And it was rude.”

Nursey blinks again. “Uh.”

“Sorry. That was a lot.”

“No…? I… that’s. That’s not what I, uh, was expecting,” he manages to say a few tries in. He leans back, and Jack can see from the dip that forms in his cheek that he’s biting the inside of it as he taps against the table with his fork.

Jack wanted to ask– was he forgiven? Was all alright? Were they good? It was making him anxious, honestly, that he didn’t know how Nursey was feeling– but he wouldn’t go back on his word and therefore stayed silent until Nurse cleared his throat quietly.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I’m not super into sharing feelings and whatevs, y’know? Like that’s not what i’m about really. But thanks. For taking what I said into consideration.”

Jack nodded, relieved. “No problem, Nurse.”

Nursey shot him a weak smile. He fiddled with his fork, slim fingers rolling the utensil in his grip. “You mind if I put this away? M’not really that hungry anymore and, uh, early class.”

“Oh, of course, sorry,” he says. “Uh, here, take the foil. It’ll do you more good than me, probably, eh?”

Nursey chuckles softly and takes the foil. His hands fold lightly around the edges, molding it around until it’s covered neatly. “I’ll walk you out,” he says softly. “You’ve got everything?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll grab my ID.”

“Thanks for the pie,” Nursey says at the door to his building. “Means a lot.”

Jack knows intrinsically that Nursey isn’t talking about the pie. It warms him a little. “Thank Bitty, he did all the work. I just bought supplies.” It’s nothing, i’m happy to do it.

“Still. You didn’t have to. Personal pie and all that.” I still appreciate it.

“No problem.” You deserve it.

They stand by the door a little awkwardly until Jack claps his hand on the other man’s shoulder gently. He makes his voice low. “Jusqu'ici tout va bien, eh?”

Nursey nods. “Ouais, ça va. Juste fatigué est tout. Promettre. Problèmes personnels.”

Jack meets his eyes and keeps them for a second. It wasn’t quite a lie, or enough of one that he needed to be called on it, so he nods and squeezes his shoulder. “À plus tard, ouais? Stop by the haus sometime this week. Bitty misses you, there’s too many calories and not enough mouths in the haus to feed.”

That gets another weak laugh out of him. “Sure. I’ll see what I can do. À bientôt, Capitane.”

Jack gives him a mock salute, which Nursey returns with a tiny, tiny smile, and then slips out into the night to make his way back to the haus.

Everything isn’t fixed, he thinks to himself, but maybe Nursey is a little less miserable.

They don’t talk about it, but Jack finds Nursey nearer to him in the next few weeks, and he welcomes it. He had been neglecting even his close friends, he realizes. Nursey eases up when Jack finds his way into Shitty’s room, doesn’t go so tense when he lightly places a hand at his arm. He allows himself to be corralled out of arguments with Dex. When Jack says something to him, he no longer quietly and subtly shuts down– which was what had been going on, Jack realizes now; he didn’t seem to take well to being called out in a group individually unless others were– it still seems to sting a little, but it doesn’t look as if he’s visibly taking offense or harm from it.

Jack opens up in return: he gives him space, respect, recognizes his work ethic on and off the ice. Jack finds himself saving food for him (he doesn’t eat much. Why doesn’t he eat much? He’s two inches taller than Jack,) and a month later finds himself at a poetry reading. He sees Dex out of the corner of his eye and nods to him; he flushes and nods back. Jack only stays for Nursey’s reading, third, and catches his eye and smiles lightly before he heads out.

“Thanks,” Nursey says softly the next day, pleased and flushed.

“It’s no problem–” is all Jack manages to get out before a voice calls, “Nursey, c’mon, we’re gonna be late to meet Chowder and Farmer!”

Jack raises a brow at him and Nursey flushes a little more. “Dex, uh, came. To the poetry reading,” he says, as if that explains anything at all, but it does.

“Just as long as you’re being safe–”

“Oh my god, it’s not– we’re talking. That’s it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Nursey rolls his eyes. “Salut, Jack.”

“Later, Nursey.”

“Yo, what the fuck is–”

“Shhh.”

Shitty rounds the corner; when he’s in full view, Jack is there, pressing a finger to his lips and frowning.

“Why am I being shushed, brahooh is that motherfucking Nurse? Why in the hell is he–”

“Shh,” Jack says again. His frown grows deeper, but he turns back to his book and gently eases his fingers back into Nursey’s silky curls.

“He’s letting you do that, right? You didn’t, like, hit him over the head with a hockey stick, right?”

“I wouldn’t do that to a stick,” Jack says, still frowning. “Or Nursey, for that matter.”

Shitty snorts and flops onto one of the other couches. “Loving where your priorities lie, brother. Still, can’t believe Nursey’s laid out on you like that. Took him a pretty long time to open up to me, if we’re being honest.”

Jack looks down at their position on the couch, or rather, Nursey’s: Jack himself is sitting upright, a book in his hand, mug of tea on the table next to the couch, while Nursey is just as Shitty said, laid out, his head resting face-down on his thighs.

(“Move your book,” Nursey had said.

“What?” Jack asked, alarmed, as Nursey tossed his backpack into the floor.

“Move it. Tea too. Arms up.”

Jack had obeyed, bewildered; Nursey kicked off a shoe lazily and had begun to shuck off his jacket.

“Oh my god, please don’t get fucking naked–”

“I’m not getting naked, crisse. Shits and I went to the same school,” he plopped on the couch and then squirmed onto his lap. “That’s where the similarities fucking end.”

It took him a few minutes to get truly comfortable, but he mumbled into his leg, “You can put your arms down,” so Jack wasn’t really concerned with him moving after that.

Maybe a minute or two later, Nursey had grabbed his hand and put it in his hair. Jack froze for a second, but then he heard, or rather felt, a little grunt against his leg and he began to tentatively run his fingers through his curls.)

“He’s tired,” Jack explains. “He said, uh. Two tests and an essay and then some presentation? And then he’s doing something for Lardo later so… napping. I respect it.”

“You would,” Shitty said, rolling his eyes fondly. “You want something from the kitchen?”

“Protein shake? And maybe a brownie.”

“Got it, brahski–”

“Bring another one for Nursey, too.”

“Gotcha.”

Shitty retreats to the kitchen, humming; Jack returns to his book until a clumsy hand comes up and pats at his face.

“Mmm… ‘anks, Jack,” Nursey mumbles sleepily. Jack smiles and squeezes the hand, gently pulling it from his face.

“Got your back, Nurse,” he murmurs, rubbing a hand along his spine. “Always.”

#drug use tw #canon typical drug use #alcohol ment tw #nursey and jack #jack zimmermann #nursey #derek nurse #derek malik nurse #my writing #(fanfic): mine #my fic

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