#plus they already feel like they owe their mystery man one after he saved them
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angelsdean · 2 years ago
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imagine cas annoys the empty so much again it spits him back out except...it spits him out into the wrong universe (and time) and that's how *our* cas ends up in the winchesters universe. and at first he doesn't realize it's not the right time or universe and he goes looking for dean and instead finds the Lebanon bunker closed off and eventually finds john + mary and he thinks it's his universe's past john and mary and he tells them he needs help to get back to his time (bc his grace is still too low). he tells them he's from the future and needs to get back to someone and he pulls out his wallet and shows them a picture of dean and they're like "whoa whoa we know that guy!!!!" and cas is like, "that's impossible. he hasn't been born yet." and they're like "no no he was here. he helped save our universe. he's from another universe and he came here from heaven because he's dead and there was this young guy with him, jack? and an older guy, robby or bobby or something...." and cas is just slowly losing his mind, all the color draining from his face because first of all what do you mean he's dead?!!! and then all the other universe stuff and then jack? and bobby??? and yea anyways they team up to help get cas to dean and along the way hmmm what if jack pops in again....only this time he's acting even weirder than before, because chuck / the god power are gaining more control / corrupting him more. and jack becomes the big bad, thwarting their attempts to get cas to dean, and wreaking havoc on their universe, so the winchesters squad help them save jack and then dean and cas can eventually get their proper reunion (which everyone in the winchesters squad is now nvested in, especially carlos, number one deangirl and destiel stan) oh and the whole time they also do not know dean is mary and john's AU kid because cas never gives a last name just keeps calling him dean. and so john also grows invested in seeing these two people get their happy ending and BOY would it be cathartic for dean to see a version of his father who is so happy to see dean happy with a man-shaped person<3
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volvolts · 5 months ago
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tell me about one of your new story projects, please? :)
ah im so sorry it took me awhile cuz i really wanted to draw more stuff on it thank you for letting me ramble <3 you've been warned
basically my recent project is im kinda sorta stealing my kynseed ocs for it and also One Guy but that One Guy is so different that if i didn't say anything im pretty sure that no one wouldve known lol
its a story about one man who gets saved by a mysterious deer who turned out to be a fae in disguise and grants this man very potent plant magic and everything that happens after
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(his name is oscar btw but he goes by Oz) more talking and also pictures and rambling under the read more
oz has spent his whole life being affected by the fae. they dont mean any harm but some of the more animal like fae get kinda aggressive sometimes so oz has had a lot of close calls in his life! seeing this deer and finding out it was a fae was probably something he was going to see one day but to be granted powers for protecting it (and nearly dying as a result) was not what he was expecting
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thing is oz doesnt want these powers! it's difficult for him to control and he didn't even ask for it (because the fae are supposed to ask him what he wants right? and how is that equivalent to his deed?) plus his powers are much stronger than any human could ever dream of. plant magic is already one of the hardest magic for a human to learn but not even experts can achieve what oz can now do accidentally. it feels like overkill for simply taking an arrow to the stomach for an odd doe. that and it now feels like they expect oz to owe them now for this power, which unsettles him if that is the case
also theres another guy, jonah
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(sorry for the big ref its all i got)
jonah is known has a sentinel, children blessed by very powerful fae at birth with golden eyes, long lives, among other traits. sentinels are always born as fraternal twins; one boy and one girl. at 18 theyre expected to help humans and fae get along. jonah's sister didn't want to do that and she left while jonah fulfilled his role. he's considered one of the best sentinels in history, known as the Dove for being a peacekeeper.
jonah nearly dies trying to fight a monster that threatens all life and his patron fae puts him in a magic coma in their last ditch effort to keep him alive. he's been slumbering inside a tree for about six(6) years before
until oz accidentally wakes him up with his powers
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jonah is a bit premature but he's mostly recovered so it's not too bad, however he's not at his peak health yet. while jonah is still trying to figure out the whole monster problem, oz wonders if he can have jonah find the fae that gave him his powers and negotiate for something else, which jonah thinks is stupid
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theres a lot more (like jonah's sister and a few others) but its already long and maybe when i have more drawings i can try to ramble more
anyway thank you for anyone who read this at all and honestly i would love feedback or even just questions about this story!
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physicalturian · 4 years ago
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[16+] Define "Hate" - Miya Atsumu x Fem!Reader
[She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18]
Words : 9956
Archive of our own
Tags : Enemies to friends (to lovers) / A random dude tries to make out but fails / Drinking / Partying / Fluff / Wholesome / Tenderness / Slight non-con
If you think I should add some tags, tell me!
Summary : Your friend Bokuto invites you to a party, where due to circumstances you're forced to hang out with a man that hates you : Miya Atsumu. The evening does not go as planned, and slowly, you're coming to the realization that your entire relationship may have started on a misunderstanding.
A/N: The unwanted advances are from a random person, so is the non-consensual touching. It does not go further, the person is stopped. The story is cute, but you've been warned if you're sensitive to such topics! Have fun!
- - -
I knew the moment I heard Bokuto say “I’ll meet you there then!” that I shouldn’t have accepted his offer to go out. While I was aware it was a rare opportunity considering his lack of free time, I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach it was going to turn out bad.
Before I could ask him what he meant by meet there, he had hung up, telling me he was excited. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I stared at the screen and tried to call him back right away, I had to ask him where we were meeting since in his excitement, he had not shared the location.
He never picked up. Even after 4 calls.
With a heavy sigh, I got up from my desk and grimaced at my last option to get hang of the man, “I really don’t want to call him… I should get Hinata’s phone number, that’d be more enjoyable than him.” Shaking my head, I told myself that we were both adults, and we could have a proper conversation. Clearing my throat, I pressed the name in my contacts and waited, drumming my fingers on the back of the phone.
After a moment, I heard some hubbub in the background before hearing the fake-joyous voice on the other end, “Well, isn’t it the little faker, are you calling me to come clean and finally be real with me-“ “Hello to you too, is Koutarou nearby?” I cut him off, not wanting to hear his little speech.
Every time we would meet, he would talk shit about the way I’d act. I was very social during those gatherings; I was calmer in normal situation, and I’ll admit putting on a tougher face when around more people I did not know. But what bugged Atsumu Miya was that I was never getting mad. His sole purpose seemed to try to tick me off.
Perhaps he was himself mad that I kept throwing him comebacks and that he’d struggle to come up with something just as good. Or perhaps he only heard about me from Bokuto and wanted to see the less stoic side Bokuto probably talked to him about.
The blond Miya twin huffed, it was followed by a more muffled sound. “I could ask, I could answer, really. But I’m not fond of the attitude, so I might just hang up-“ “You do that,” I had started tauntingly, thinking he wouldn’t do it. Before I could say more, he hung up.
It was my turn to huff as I called him back, he picked up just as fast, “Back so soon? How can I help you? And don’t waste time on formalities, I don’t need the fake niceties. This ain’t an interview,” His grin could be heard through the phone, it made me roll my eyes as I sighed.
“I really don’t know why Kou gave me your number instead of literally any other guy from your team. Just tell me if Koutarou is here, that’s all I am calling about.” Just when I said that, I heard my friend’s voice ask who was on the phone. I was very close to threaten Atsumu, thinking he was going to be shitty and not tell Bokuto it was me. Instead, he told him the truth and handed him his phone.
“Hey!! What’s up?” “Kou, you said we’d meet up there, where is ‘there’ exactly?” He burst out laughing for a long while before telling me he meant the pub near the campus, he added that the closest they were to the campus, the more they could get wasted. Or as he put it ‘the waster-er we can be’. “Right, but I’m a bit further from the pub. I don’t live that far, but not that close either-“
Hushing me, he said, “I know, I know, that’s why Tsum-Tsum is going to come pick you up! He said he wasn’t going to drink tonight, he’ll be our designated driver, I already gave him your address.”
I blinked a few times, not responding. Was he fucking with me? “Bok, Bok, can’t you just pick me up yourself?” “Nah, I have to go get my bro, he said he’ll need to be saved from a boring party he was forced to go to,” He explained. He then cut the conversation short by telling me we’d see each other tonight, then another voice spoke.
“Sheesh, who would have thought, right? Hope that does not make you mad. Better be ready at 5, don’t forget the condescending attitude, we wouldn’t want the others to know who you really are, right?” “You are obsessed with me, it’s getting ridiculous. I’m not fake, Miya. It says a lot if all you want is for me to get mad at you, perhaps you lived in a too lenient household? In dire need of being reprimanded?” The man scoffed and repeated to be ready by 5, then hung up.
I had a few hours left to get prepared and did it in no time. Enough to wear something casual enough, but still standing out a bit to look good. With the time I had left, I rummaged through my place to find an empty reusable bottle and filled it with something to spice up my drinks and have more fun. Going to bars was fun, but it did not come cheap, plus if I was going to be somewhere where Atsumu Miya was, I was not going to be sober.
I was putting my bottle inside my bag, when I heard my phone ring in my back pocket and quickly grabbed it only to be attacked, “When I say be ready at 5, it means be in front of the building door by 5, not take your time going down the stairs.” “Did you skip breakfast or something? Such a sour mood Miya, even for you it’s surprising. I’ll be there in two minutes.” Doing as he did to me, I hung up before he could say anything and left my place, making sure to turn everything off and lock the doors.
I had left a note to my roommate, telling them I was going out and not to be surprised if I wasn’t home.
Knowing that staying in Atsumu’s presence was going to take a toll on me, I took a few measured breaths as I went down the stairs. Most of the people I knew appreciated how calm I was, but the man child seemed annoyed by it more than anyone. He was dead set on making me mad. If anyone asked me, I’d say he got mad one time I did not laugh at his stupid jokes and put himself up to the challenge to get a reaction out of me. And since his humor was not on point, the easiest way, in his books, could be getting me mad.
I never really understood why he was like that with me, since he never explained his nasty attitude, but I was bearing through it.
Giving him a nod, I knocked on the window and told him to open. Rolling his eyes, he did and put his phone back on the stand on the dashboard where the aux was connected. He put on some music and started driving, not saying much. It felt like he was forcing himself to not speak, which made me sigh in annoyance. He was being too petty, and for what?
Keeping things civilized, I said, “Thank you for picking me up,” I held back from saying I was surprised his car was clean. There was a sports bag on the bag seat, but it was still clean, and it did not smell bad. “I owed Bokuto, that’s all” “Still, thank you. You could have told him no since you hate me,” I said jokingly, hoping for a reaction. It did not take long to get one, in a whiny voice he looked at me with a scowl, “I don’t hate you, you’re just-“ “Look at the road, then bitch and moan,”
“Like that, you’re like that, God,” He huffed, focusing back on the road. In a calm voice, I said, “Well, I’d rather we did not get in an accident just because you have anger issues, you know?” I taunted, making him grip the wheel tighter.
“I don’t have anger issues; I just know you’re not as calm as you appear to be. No one is, I’ve seen, at best, two emotions on that arrogant face of yours and I’m sure they were all fake,” He stated, definitely believing what he was saying. Quirking a brow in response, I hummed inquisitively, playing with the seatbelt. “Is that so? My theory is that you’re mad I don’t laugh at your jokes,” I shrugged.
With a quick glance, he raised a finger in emphasis as he said, “First, I’m hilarious,” he raised another finger, “Second, I’ll get you to show some emotion at some point, but tonight I’m having fun and not caring if I have a fucking rock with me,”
I’ll admit it hurt a bit to hear him say that. But I didn’t show it. If the man was going to act as such then so be it, “Sure, sure, call me Wall-E because I’m an emotionless robot, right?”
“Wall-E was in love with Eve, he had emotions,” I heard him mumble. A smile drew itself on my face when I heard that, I don’t know if I wanted to tell him it sounded cute the way he said it. Now I took it as a challenge to keep all of my feelings away from him, since he seemed too keen on unraveling the mystery that I seemed to be in his eyes. “Right. That he was, sure.”
“Have you not seen the movie? Do you even cry during sad movies- no, do you ever cry, at all? Or is it just bitterness and pure attitude?” “Doesn’t it get tiring to be mad at nothing?” I ignored his questions, finding them absolutely ridiculous. All I wanted was to jump out of his car and walk the rest of the way to the bar.
“I’m not mad!” He said, annoyed. “Well, you don’t have a very positive attitude Miya, Bokuto keeps telling me how you’re so funny and cool but all I see is a little bitch who’s upset over meeting someone who isn’t as loud as he is,”
With a scoff, he replied, his tone getting rougher, “And he keeps telling me you’re so great to be around, and the best kind of company and yet I’d feel better hanging out with a goldfish.”
“Since we’re on the same page, I suggest we stop talking. That’d be better for both of us.” My tone was strained, I never had such a tensed relationship with anyone. My chest felt heavy knowing the reason I wasn’t getting along with him was his utter dislike of who I was, but I ignored it. I was not going to let it get to me, I was going to get drunk and have fun.
I reached out for the phone to increase the volume, my hand almost bumping with Atsumu. We seemed to have had the same idea. He looked at me with a raised brow, “Choose whatever song,” he said. I turned my face to look at the window instead and shrugged, “I don’t care, we’re almost there,”
Another sigh followed when Atsumu changed to something a bit more upbeat. I wanted to sing along, and as I glanced his way, he also did. His mouth was matching the lyrics, but no other sound followed. It was kind of cute.
“Do you want something?” He asked, probably feeling my stare. “No. Just lost in thoughts.”
The rest of the drive was spent without another word. I only thanked him when we arrived, the loud music could already be heard from outside. The reason for it being the windows being wide open along with the door. It felt familiar, the tension from the car dissipated easily. I was finally going to be able to avoid the Miya twin and have fun.
Except I still had him close by when we walked up to the entrance of the building. “Stop walking with me, people will think we came here together,” He said in a panicked tone.
“Which we did, but you’re right. I wouldn’t want to be seen with you,” I sped up my pace and walked further in front of him, turning around and saluting him. “See you,” I said with a mischievous grin upon seeing his surprised expression. He scrambled to his senses and added “Never, see you never!”
I rolled my eyes at how childish he sounded and made my way inside, feeling much more welcome by the loud music and beer smells than I felt in the car of a man that despised me. I was startled when I heard my name being called but let out a shaky laugh when I saw Bokuto at a table, waving at him I joined him.
“Hey Kou!” I looked at the black-haired man next to him and nodded, “Kuroo,” Bokuto scooted closer to his friend to make me some space, so I sat down. In front of us was his teammates, Hinata and Sakusa, which I greeted along the way. Before I could join the conversation, Bokuto handed me his beer, “We can’t really start without this, right?” I rolled my eyes, knowing full well what he wanted from me. I chugged the drink, slamming the cup down. “Bro, it wasn’t just beer, the fuck did you put in that?” “Fun, I put fun in it.”
“Yeah well, I’m not chugging another one of those, I’ll wait a bit before taking something else,” I huffed a laugh, looking around a bit. I met a random dude’s gaze who seemed to be fixed on mine. When I made a confused face, a smirk drew itself on his face. It felt very off-putting, his gaze was not leaving mine, I only looked away when Bokuto placed a hand on my shoulder. “Tonight is the night we get wasted,” The last word being said in a much louder tone than the rest, almost screaming it.
Nudging him, I quirked a brow, “That changes from the usual because?” “Because everyone is here!” He turned to look at Hinata and Sakusa, a huge grin on his face, “What’s your poison?”
I let out a laugh, about to tell him no one said that but Kuroo beat me to it, “Bro, no one says that. That was cringe,” he looked at the two other men and smirked as he placed both his hands on the table, ready to get up to get the drinks. “What’s your Kryptonite?”
Sakusa sighed, I looked at the two best friends and told them that no one said that either but at least we knew what they meant. Hinata said he didn’t usually drink, while Sakusa said he was not planning on getting wasted. Bokuto proceeded to whine and try to convince the dark-haired man. While he did that, I got up and went to the bar to get a few beers. Once I had ordered, I waited for the barman to serve the drinks.
In my waiting, I was pushed a bit around considering the amount of people around. I gripped the bar tight to stay put and felt someone touch my ass, I turned around with a scowl, ready to beat whoever did that. All I could see was a person leaving, they seemed tall, but I couldn’t really tell much more about them just from their back. “Fucking asshole,” I mumbled as I turned back to get my drinks, thanking the barman.
I had to hold back a loud sigh when I saw Atsumu seating next to Hinata when I joined back my friends at the table. I had planned on having fun and having him there only made me uneasy.
Putting the drinks on the table, I sat down and grabbed my bottle, looking him dead in the eyes. I observed a moment, assessing, checking how annoying he was tonight. “Five.” I said as I gulped down some of my drink.
Confused he put his glass down, “What ‘five’?”
Finishing drinking from my bottle, I closed it and smirked, “I’ll need 5 shots until I can handle your whiny ass tonight,”
He gasped and pointed at Bokuto, “Bok! Your robot friend is being a bitch again, how can you stay with her!” He complained, earning a loud laugh from Bokuto. Kuroo answered instead, “She’s funny, and pretty reasonable, I would have said 7.” Atsumu grumbled in response and hurried us to start the drinking game.
I did not really understand what the game was about, it seemed to have been invented by Kuroo and Bokuto, but clearly, they were having a blast. I didn’t quite follow the rules but would drink when they’d tell me to. Hinata was already a lot louder than 3 drinks ago, his cheeks flushed pink and his hand gripping Atsumu’s biceps when he’d talk.
As loud as both Kuroo and Bokuto already were, it had gotten louder. And a lot less clear, their words being more slurred. It was still joyful as the smile on their face was beaming when they’d tell one another joke. It was so wholesome; I couldn’t help but join their stupid giggling.
Sakusa had left after a few hours, Atsumu had drove him back before coming back and joining us once more.
I don’t really know what I talked about with Bokuto during Atsumu’s absence, but I remember leaning in and resting my cheek on his shoulder. “Atsumu hates me…” I mumbled. I heard Kuroo whisper something but didn’t quite catch it, instead Bokuto placed a hand on the back of my head. “I don’t know bro, he definitely feels something, but I don’t know- you know like, he just, when I….But like…” I nodded.
“What I’m saying is like, I don’t know man, I thought you’d both get along!! You’re both so cool, but yeah no… So, like- he looks like he’s been challenged or something man,” He grumbled, nudging Kuroo and bringing his head against his chest along with mine. “It makes me sad,” he whined the last part. “I just want my friends to get along, I don’t want you to be fighting,” Feeling his chest move weirdly, I realized he was crying.
Kuroo huffed a laugh and tried to cheer him up, I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. I found it slightly funny, both Kuroo and I were smiling at how Bokuto turned out but still did our best to cheer him up.
Checking if he was coming back, I instead met the gaze of the dude from earlier. He was watching me intently from his spot at the bar. He raised a glass my way before taking a sip.
The feeling in the pit of my stomach grew, it was unease, uncomfortable… Unsafe. But I ignored him and looked back at Bokuto. “Alright, alright, I’ll try to talk to him,” I slurred a few of my words too, more out of exhaustion than anything. When I had too many drinks, I was not angry or sad, but tired. Still when I saw Atsumu Miya walk in, I chugged down my shot and stood up. “Wish me luck,”
I quickly made my way towards him, “Miya,” he turned away from me and ignored me.
I could have called his name again, but that would have made me look clingy. I followed him instead, trying to grab his arm, but he was walking fast. Maybe he didn’t hear me, right? Maybe he did not even think I called him, because why would I… right?
I huffed at my own thought, why was I trying to justify this man just not wanting to deal with me?
In my loss of focus, I bumped into someone and apologized quickly. They grabbed my biceps to keep me in place, a forced-nice tone in their voice. “Hey there, be careful next time,”
I held back my disgust when he brushed his thumbs over my arm. “Thank you, have a nice night.” Shit, I should have been more fake. Now he’ll feel offended. Too many words too. I should I have just said thank you. Fuck.
His eyes focused on mine a moment, damn it, he was going to use that card… “Hey have we met already?” I shook my head, trying to get out of his grasp. “Oh right! You’re the one who kept looking at me, haha.” I gave him a fake smile, still not saying anything. He let go of one of my arms and tried to guide me somewhere, but I stood in the spot. I didn’t want to move, there were already very few people here, I did not want to go somewhere even less crowded.
“Hey, I really have to go, my friend-“ “The one who was ignoring you? Haha, I think you should let him go, if he’s like that.” A fake laugh was what I gave him with a nod, I did not want to make him feel attacked. “Come on, I see the way you were looking at me. You can’t act shy now,” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, I felt my heart beat faster in fear. I wasn’t in any condition to do any real damage, maybe I was overthinking it, but I considered screaming, not that anyone would come in.
I gulped and straightened my back, “I believe you were looking at me like a hawk more than anything, I was just glancing.” I was glad I didn’t stutter, but the moment his smile disappeared, I tried to pull my arm from him. “I’m pretty sure you were looking like I was, maybe thinking of what we could do together…” His eyes traveled over my body. I tried to push him off, he grunted. “Hey, why are you like that? I’m just being nice here,”
“I’m sure you are, just let me go, I’m not interested,” He held only tighter, pushing me to the wall and gripping my jaw to have me look him dead in the eyes, “I’ll show you what you’re missing, do you mind if I-“ His hand was starting to drift to my collarbone, “I’m sure you don’t, I saw the way you acted with those men-“ He nipped my neck, and I elbowed his side.
This was enough, I glanced down and saw an opportunity to knee him in the balls before punching his stomach and biting his arm to let me go. He tried to grab me, but I ran off, tripping as I did so. I could hear him swear under his breath and call me a bitch, a maniac, a psycho. I huffed and went back to my table. I tried to brush off what happened, but the stress made my hands shake.
I was breathing heavily. Eyes tearing up. Deep breath, in …. Out… I told myself as I brushed my clothes off and tried to smile before reaching the table, calming myself down. I just wanted to get Bokuto and stick by his side, his presence was reassuring and that’s what I need. I just wanted to get my friend, maybe a hug… just anything. If the man came back, he’d probably back off, but I couldn’t be alone.
When I got to the table and only saw Atsumu, I let out a nervous laugh. “Miya, where’s Kou?” I looked behind me, making sure the man wasn’t there. “He disappeared with Kuroo and little Shoyo,” He said off-handedly, glancing at me as he spoke. I clenched my jaw, knowing if I spoke, I would break down. Deep breaths, in… and out… in…. and out…“When’s he- coming back,” A knot in my throat gave away that I wasn’t as composed as I seemed. But I did not want to be mocked by Atsumu and prayed he didn’t catch on.
“I don’t think he is-“ He cut himself off and looked at me with a frown, “Hey are you okay?” I waved him off, feeling my lips wobble a bit. I cleared my throat and frowned, “I need to find him, I’ll go find him-“
Turning around, I ignored him when he called my name and walked off as fast I could. This place did not feel as welcoming as it once did. Any bump against my shoulder made me feel more and more on edge, I didn’t feel safe, I didn’t feel good, I wanted to dig a whole and hide in it. Or build a house only made of walls, no windows, no door so that no one could see me or reach out for me. I wanted to cry, of frustration and dread.
When I finally reached the door and stepped outside, a loud shaky sound left my lips. “Fuck, fuck,” I looked around quickly, making sure there wasn’t anyone around before walking behind a tree big enough to hide my form. When I was hidden, I slid down the rugged tree, and let out controlled breath, trying to calm down. I kept swearing under my breath, not finding anything else to say.
I went to grab my phone and realized I left it in my bag, which meant I had to go back inside. The mere thought sent chills running down my body. I took a few more deep breaths and stood up, tucking my hands in my pockets to hide the fact that I was shaking. When I was about to make my way to the pub once more, I bumped into someone. My heart skyrocketed in my chest, I gasped and stepped back, “Hey, be careful,” The sentence in itself made me feel sick, then I realized it wasn’t the man from before.
I couldn’t see much from how dark it was, but recognized Atsumu Miya’s voice. “Miya,” I let out a breath of relief. Something hit my feet, I looked down, my eyes squinted I understood it was my bag, “Thank you,” I was a lot more relieved than my tone portrayed, but I did not want him to know what was going on.
“What’s up with you?”
I looked up at him, my hands still in my pocket. “What’s up with me? Nothing. What’s up with you?” Please leave me alone, please leave me alone. If you stay here any longer, I’ll break down. I thought, my nose and eyes were starting to sting. I could feel tears coming in.
“You seemed shaken inside, why did you need Bok? He left; you won’t find him.” I never realized he had an accent, unfortunately my mind was not focusing on that. It was focused on the fact that Bokuto wasn’t nearby. My breathing wasn’t getting any calmer.
I did not answer.
Atsumu seemed to be looking for something, then he pulled out his phone and turned on his flashlight and aimed it at me. I squinted my eyes at the sudden brightness and looked away, trying to cover my face. “Hey, don’t- are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying,” He reached out for me and took hold of my hand to uncover my face, pulling his phone away and leading me away from the tree to get the moonlight to help him see and not blind me.
“I don’t know why you needed Bokuto, but I can help you if you need,”
I didn’t move. Glancing at our hands, I squeezed his hand, my actions did not match my words as I said, “Stop being nice, I know you hate me- so just… fuck, look away,” Mid-way through my words, I started crying. I quickly tried to wipe them away, my motions were stopped when Atsumu’s hands pried mine from my face. He then pulled me closer and held me tight.
“I’m not looking, I can’t see much right now it’s pretty dark,” I understood what he meant by that and held his sweater tight then started letting all out. I couldn’t formulate any sentences; all I did was let out all the stress and tension that had gathered inside my body from that one short encounter. When I tried to wipe my tears to not wet his clothes, I heard Atsumu chuckle, “Something fun about playing volleyball is that I genuinely couldn’t give more shit about my clothes being wet, usually it’s sweat though but, I’m not picky.”
I let out a breathy laugh and made it obvious enough that I was purposely wiping my tears on his sweater. “Now that’s a bit too much, I’m not your tissue, am I?” He said jokingly, I shrugged, mumbling against his chest, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams…” It elated a loud laugh from the man, he quickly cleared his throat and calmed down, “Not funny, nope.”
We stayed like this a moment until I calmed down.
I could still hear the muffled sound of the party still going on inside the building, but I felt a lot better now, although embarrassed.
I didn’t want to go back inside, and my friends had left. “I should go home…” I said in a low voice, shocking myself with how little energy there was in it.
“I’ll drop you off,” he said while letting go of me. I hadn’t let go right away and heard him made a confused sound as he was about to wrap his arms around me, I let go and stepped back, my cheeks warming up. “Just like that? No questions?” I was confused and felt like an idiot for breaking down in front of the only person who I thought would laugh at me for doing so. Instead, he was humane.
He was about to talk once more, but I was faster, “I’d imagine you nosy, and curious,” I stated, looking anywhere but at him.
“Yeah? That proves you don’t know me, not that you ever tried.”
“Neither did you, Miya. You think I’m a bitch just because I’m not as loud as your friends, or as easily readable as Hinata. And yet, you get along with Sakusa, can you feel the irony?”
He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. I sighed and sat on the ground, looking at the sky. “To be honest it’s tiring, it stresses me out to be around you,”
“What?” He sounded utterly confused. I continued, “You know, Bokuto’s an emotional drunk,” I paused, Atsumu agreed. “He cried when you left. I told him you hated me, and he broke down in tears because all he wants is for us to get along,” So do I, I want us to get along. The way Bokuto talked about him made him sound funny, but every time he was around me, he turned sour and just kept being a bitch.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about it and when I followed you and called out your name you just completely ignored me, so there’s that.” I shrugged before wrapping my arms around my knees. I felt Atsumu sit beside me and do the same as me, “I don’t remember that, when was that?” I grimaced, “Yeah, figured. But like, don’t make it sound like you would have listened if you had heard me. You can be real with me and just,” I waved his way, motioning to his entire being, “Drop the fake-niceties. You’re being too civil right now, it looks weird on you,”
I said that, but what I meant is that it weirded me out, more than it looked weird on him. Not having him frowned at all my words, not having him huff all the time, or look mad… it felt strange, and I was not against it. “I’m not a bastard-“ I did not control the snort that escaped my body. Atsumu scoffed, “See! This is why you’re unsufferable!”
“Uh? Excuse me? Who’s the one who keeps assuming shit about the other? Because it’s not me, I’m living my best life and you’re just, constantly mad at me. And you’re assuming wrong shit too? All in all, your vision of me is wrong, and you hate that same vision you built of me,” I fully turned to look at him, my speech getting faster, my tone a bit higher, my frustration growing. “Don’t you understand it’s completely stupid? Don’t you realize you look like an idiot? I’m sure you’d be great company, if you weren’t exactly what you say you’re not: a bastard.”
I pushed his legs, “So to make things clear, because that’s what confuses you and maybe you’re not smart enough to read me: I feel scared, I feel embarrassed and I feel frustrated, all of this at this very moment. I’m not a fucking gold fish, and I’m sure gold fish have emotions too, okay?”
I finally let out a breath I felt like I was holding and met Atsumu’s wide eyes, he was looking at me speechless. He opened his mouth once, closed, twice, closed. Then he hummed. “Whatever, at least act neutral around me, bear through that hate because Bokuto’s sad.” I huffed, about to get up. Before I could, Atsumu pulled me down and looked at me with a worried expression.
“Do I make you that unsafe? I didn’t-“ “It’s not you, it’s…“ I shook my head, deciding against telling me. “All you make me feel is bad about myself,”
The blond frowned, any smile on his face disappearing. “I… didn’t know,”
“Of course, you didn’t! How could you? Your assumption is: the emotionless bitch,” I huffed. My heart was beating faster, for some reason. Letting it all out was one thing, but bearing the consequences of telling him, I was afraid he’d get mad anyway. I knew that talking some sense into him would be hard, but I felt like I went too hard with how he looked.
“Why are you scared then, if not because of me? Are you sure it’s not because of me? I can go-“
I wanted to roll my eyes, but instead I grabbed his sleeve to stop him from leaving, “No, no it’s not you. Your presence is… different than usual, so it’s kind of soothing if anything.” I told him, thinking of how to word it. I couldn’t really tell him that if I ended up alone once again, I’d feel a lot less safe.
His usual cocky tone was back, he did not mention what I told him about his actions but instead said, “It feels like you’re avoiding answering my question though,”
Taking a deep breath, I sighed and looked at him in the eyes, “There was this dude the entire evening, he kept looking at me. I ignored it, because … I’m not interested or anything, but when I tried to go after you, he blocked my path. Then he started making advances, and tried to make out or something, I kicked him in the balls and … all that jazz, then made a run for it.” I explained, adding that that’s why I wanted to find Bokuto. I didn’t want to be alone.
Atsumu’s tone seemed determined as he asked where the guy was, he tried to get up, but I pulled him down with force once more. “Why would you go after him?”
“Oh, you think I’m letting this man go ‘bout his life like that? Fucking asshole,” He started mumbling more insults, his blood boiling. He tried to get up once more, not listening to me. His accent seemed a lot stronger now he had lost his cool, I wanted to laugh but the panic of being alone was stronger.
“Atsumu!! I don’t care if you want to beat his ass-“
“Then let me go!”
I tried to make him understand what I wanted; I gave him an intense look, but he was confused. “I-“ I stopped talking and looked away before letting him go. “Whatever, you’re free to do as you please, go,” I shooed him away. Grabbing my bag to get my phone. Atsumu asked me what I was doing, “I’m calling Bokuto,”
“Why? I told you, he’s somewhere, but-“ I heard the ringtone coming from Atsumu, and gave him a confused look. “He left his phone, so…”
“Great. Fantastic, yeah, well. Have fun proving you’re the alpha or something,” I shrugged. I was acting almost as childish as him right now, but I didn’t want to straight up admit what I wanted.
Atsumu didn’t move. He stayed right where he was, after a few moments he sat back down. “You confuse me, I don’t get what you’re doing,” He stated, looking at me, lost. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at me without blinking.
I only saw his look from glancing his way, but I wasn’t facing him. I spelled it out for him, articulating each word, feeling my throat tighten as I said them, “I don’t want to be alone. Because if he finds me before you find him, I don’t know…” I ended up mumbling the last part.
All that left Atsumu’s lips was an ‘Ah’ before he scooted closer. “Alright, well, as your knight in shining armor I can’t let you down, you know.”
“You’re not a knight, you just have the privilege of being very muscly and intimidating.” I said as I rested my chin on my knees when I brought them to my chest.
The blond was humming, thinking, not replying right away. He did not say much about what happened, and I was thankful for that. I already felt like an idiot for breaking down in front of him out of everyone, so if he had brought it up, I would have died on the spot. But with him next to me, it felt almost relaxing. A lot different than the mood in the car. Almost as if things had slightly cleared up, but I must have been imagining things.
“So, I’m a bastard, muscly, intimidating, very bad at reading people,” As he started listing tings, I was nodding along, saying ‘yes’ until he said the last one, “And hot” “Yes- Wait, I didn’t say that. The other stuff I said, yeah, but not the last one,”
Pointing at me, he grinned, “Haha, you said I was hot, you said it, I heard it, it’s out there now,”
Rolling my eyes, I slowly faced him and observed him a moment, trying to assess what was his deal, “What’s with the change of attitude? Aren’t you supposed to hate me?” I did not mind him being playful, but once again… it was strange, and if he was doing that just because I felt bad, I didn’t need it. Feeling a bit cold, I started rubbing my hands on my arms, still focused on Atsumu.
The man sighed and rested his chin on his fist. Like me he had brought his knees to his chest, but what differed was that he was pouting right now, I was not. “See, I never said I hated you,”
“Perhaps not, but your actions told me otherwise,” Never have I ever felt welcomed in his presence, he made it very obvious he did not like me.
“Hey, your actions are also very much not-lovey, okay?” He said in a defensive tone, I met that tone with a quirked brow. “Is that so? What did I ever do to you Miya?” From what I remembered I acted the same around him that I did around the others. Perhaps a bit colder since I was not friend with the man, but I never disrespected him.
“You make it very obvious you don’t want to be around me!” “How so?”
“You don’t smile, you don’t laugh- the constant glaring, the whispers with Bok- and now I know it’s ‘cause you don’t like me and not ‘cause you’re being emotionless, you made it clear.” He blurted out. It seemed he had that list at the ready, and he needed to let it all out. But I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“So… you act like a little bitch because, according to you, I don’t like you? Because everyone should like you, right?”
“Yes!! People always love me, I’m handsome, funny, a great guy really, but you hate me, it doesn’t make sense, what did I ever do to you?”
Sucking my teeth in, I smacked my lips, “Well, it seems it’s a bit of a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah? What’d’ya mean?” He asked. I smiled to myself, hiding behind my hand as I pondered on how to word it. The first time I saw him, he looked very handsome, that’s why I stared at him. Clearly first impression made the lasting impression… “First, I’ll admit you’re funny. I just don’t laugh as loud as Kou, if we can call that a laugh. I’d say a bark would be more fitting. But I do find you funny, you just need to pay more attention.” I shrugged.
He frowned, “That doesn’t explain the rest!”
“When did I glare at you?” “The day we met! When I told Bok, he said I wouldn’t understand,”
I rolled my eyes, why had he said that to him? For the love of God, he made a bigger deal out of this than it was meant to be. “Yeah? Well, believe it or not, I was checking you out.” I stated, not looking at him.
“You what?” He moved suddenly and was now crouching weirdly next to me, pulling at my leg, literally, to get my attention, “What? You what? You’re kidding right?”
Facing him, I gave him a deadpanned expression, “Do I look like I’m kidding? And while I’m at it, the whispers could have been one of those three things,” I emphasized by raising a finger at each count, “Number one: ‘he’s cute’, number two: ‘Bro where is the food?’ and last but not least, it does vary” I paused, feeling a bit more hurt when saying this one, “Did I say something mean? Why is he looking at me like that? Why does he hate me?”
Before he could say anything, I placed both my hands on the ground and was about to stand up, “Anyway, great talking to you, that’s enough opening up for one night-“ “Hey, no, no, you don’t get to go! We’re making progress,” He gripped my hand and pulled me back before I could fully stand up. I clicked my tongue against my teeth, annoyed, but did not say anything. It was humiliating enough to have told him that, but now I knew it flattered him. His ego was only boosted from this.
“No, because this changes everything!” Dear fuck, no.
Feeling my back ache, I laid on the ground and asked, absentmindedly “Does it, now? How so? You were still a bastard to me, no amount of charm can save that, Miya.” I regretted saying the last part, thinking he would feel even bolder after hearing me tell him he had charm.
There was a silence. A long one.
After a few minutes, Atsumu laid down next to me. “I’m sorry, I thought you hated me for no reason. I clearly misread… Everything… It also ticked me off that you were so stoic all the time… I was trying to get you angry for a good reason, not just because you randomly hated me, you know? Does that make sense?”
To be fair, I didn’t see the logic behind that. I was a bit confused too, but he seemed genuine in his apology. “It makes some sort of sense, albeit being a bit of an immature reaction… Clearly, we started on the wrong foot,” I told him in all honesty.
Both of us were silent for a moment. He was right, it indeed changed everything. This entire time we had known one another, we had acted like assholes for nothing. I wanted to ask him what he wanted to do now that this was cleared up, but I also felt like he wouldn’t care. But he surprised me.
“Do you wanna start over?” I heard Atsumu ask in a somewhat shy voice. I stared at the sky with wide eyes. Had he asked that? I didn’t mind that.
Not really knowing how to do it, I quickly sitting up and looked at his still laying form. “Come on,” I hurried for him to sit up, he did, a bit lost. Reaching out for a handshake, I waited for him to take it, when he did, I told him my full name, “Nice to meet you, I’m Bokuto’s best friend and I really have to pee,”
Atsumu snorted a laugh and shook my hand, “I’m Miya Atsumu, the best volleyball player you’ll ever meet, and I’ll escort you to the bathroom,” chuckling at that, I accepted his offer. He got up and helped me to my feet before telling me to go first. Shaking my head, I told him to go first, “That way you’re my shield and I get to take a look at those cakes,” I said jokingly. Shit, no, no, not that friendly yet, I thought.
He had pulled out his phone at this very moment, his screen lighting his face. I could see the way his cheeks turned pink when I said that. “In a friendly way! Tell me not to do it, I won’t, I was joking,” I said quickly when started walking. Looking over his shoulder, he shook his ass, “Nah look, I don’t go to the gym 4 times a week for nothing,” We both laughed as we made our way inside.
Before we entered the bar, Atsumu stopped dead in his track, making me bump in his back. I swore under my breath and stepped back, looking at him curiously. “Grab my shirt, I’m not losing you in the crowd,” He said seriously. It was sort of cute how he was suggesting this seriously, but I couldn’t help but grin, “Is this like a third-grade school trip? I think I’ll easily find that little mop of yours, among those people, that is if I lose you-“ “And I’ll find yours, which means the bastard will too, okay?”
I was taken aback by his bluntness, but he was right. His reminder made me feel my stomach churn, in the little time I had spent with Atsumu, I had made sure to try to forget about the incident. But I couldn’t just do that, not when the party was still going on. “Okay… sure, but can I instead hold your arm or something, it feels very childish to hold onto your shirt Miya,”
His expression changed from seriousness to bashfulness when he looked away and reach out for my hand, “If you wanted to hold my hand so bad you could have just asked,” He started, adding over his shoulder, “And it’s Atsumu, Miya’s for people who hate me,” He grinned happily. I sped up to be at his pace, “You seem to be too much at ease to switch from hate to flirting, Atsumu,”
His name rolled strangely off my tongue, but I was willing to make the effort. After all, I had a new friend, the least I can do is respect his preferences. His answer was to walk faster, his hand still gripping mine tight. I don’t know why, but I didn’t mind, his stupidly rough hand and his complete change of attitude made him somewhat enjoyable to be around.
As we zig-zagged in the crowd, I felt someone touch my shoulder but didn’t look at it. Only gripping Atsumu’s hand tighter. Instead of reacting out of panic, I thought: it’s alright, it must be an accidental bump, nothing much, people having fun. Then it happened again, it was with more force this time, I had to look around. When I did, I saw the man from earlier, I pulled Atsumu’s arm urgently, earning an annoyed ‘what’ when he turned around.
“Tha’ your frien’? The one tha’ was ignoring you? Mmmm? Where were you goin’ with ‘im?” My heart was in my throat, I felt sick. Insistent people were annoying enough as it was, but add alcohol to the mixt? Awful. They seemed to be even less aware of their action, and a lot more sensitive to whatever was being told to them. I hated it. “Ye bit me,” he went to grab my arm, but I pulled it back before he could, “You’re playin’ hard to get, I like that ‘bout a girl, feisty and all-“ Before I could tell him off, Atsumu stepped forward and punched him.
“That’s for being fucking disgusting,” Was what he said, then punched him again, “That’s for being a creep,” He raised his fist again, I quickly grabbed his hand and lowered it, twisting his arm in a weird angle which force him to stop. “Hey hey hey, it hurts, let go-“ “Can you please stop? Let’s just go,” The man behind Atsumu was being checked by people around, it annoyed the blond, I could see it, but he did not say anything. “Right, bathroom first.” He said as he pushed me towards the bathroom.
I tried to stop him from pushing me, but he kept on doing that until we were in the corridor. “I’ll watch over here, no one’s gonna bother you,” I gave him the semblant of a smile and entered the bathroom. When I did, only a few seconds after did I hear Atsumu’s voice yell that the man he had punched was a bastard who tried to take advantage of someone. I tuned out from his little speech, feeling embarrassed but also, strangely, warm? He was being over the top, but I think he was trying to do something good.
The muffled sound of what was going on outside of this room felt peaceful. I could finally hear my thoughts, hear how fast my heart was beating. Looking up from the sink, I finally saw how bad I looked. I was shaken, my hair more messy than usual, my eyes were glassy. When I glanced at my collarbone, I saw the redness from when the man nipped at my skin. “Gross,” I mumbled as I grabbed some toilet paper, wetted it and added some soap before scrubbing the spot.
Am I overreacting? No, he’s fucking disgusting. He didn’t do much though, but he could have. It’s been so long since some shit like this happened, I can’t make a big deal out of it, it’s stupid- A knock interrupted my thoughts, “Hey you good in there? The water’s been running for a while now, can I come in? I’m coming in-“ I dropped the paper towel in the trash and turned around to look at Atsumu with a bored expression.
“What if I was doing super private? You’re lucky there isn’t anyone else in the stalls, you’d be kicked out,” I said with a short laugh as I grabbed my bag, Atsumu stopped me and looked at me with a frown. “Why are you red?” He asked sternly.
“Maybe it’s an allergy,” I trailed off.
He shook his head, “But it’s not though, you didn’t do that to yourself, right?” “Dear- no no, I didn’t- maybe, kind of but no,” It wasn’t a good enough answer for him. The expression on his face was one I had never seen yet, perhaps had I never paid enough attention, or perhaps had he never shown it to me, but whichever it was, I felt guilty for making him look like this.
“Just the weird dude tried to kiss me or something, I don’t know, a bite, a nip, call it what you want. I didn’t want to see it, so I scrubbed it… It feels gross, I know it’s nothing and you might say I’m overreacting but I feel violated and-“ My breath caught in my throat, I swallowed my saliva and took a few deep breaths to talk down, “And it’s over, so yeah, let’s leave-“
“I wouldn’t say you’re overreacting; I think someone was a real jerk and like, invaded your personal space, and you’re definitely in the right to feel like that, you know? I feel like you don’t need me to feel sorry for you… so uh, you’re strong, and he’s got a big black eye, and he’s pretty lucky I didn’t rip his tongue off,” Atsumu said quickly, his eyes trying to catch mine, but I was playing with my hands, listening to each word leaving his lips.
If someone asked me, I would have said I didn’t need to hear those things. But it would have been a lie. I never would have thought hearing someone else tell me I was feeling something valid would make me feel so relieved. With shaky breaths, I looked up, eyes tearing up and shoved his shoulder playfully, “I was kidding when I said you had to prove you were the alpha or something,” I sniffed and wiped the tears that were threatening to fall, “You’ll be lucky if no one jumps you when we leave, you’re impulsive,”
“He deserved it! And he was ugly, now he’ll have to go home knowing someone so much hotter than him beat him up, and that he lost,” I laughed breathlessly at his words, rubbing the spot on my collarbone absentmindedly. “Well, I think he could have used a bit more kicks in the balls,” I said jokingly.
Nudging my shoulder, Atsumu said, “It can be arranged, you know,”
“Nah, we’re good, let’s just… Leave,” I said that, but I didn’t move. Nor did Atsumu. Someone walked behind us, and we waited until they were done cleaning their hands, and the door slammed behind them, to finally say something. “D’ya got lipstick?” Atsumu asked in hushed whisper, poking my bag.
Quirking a brow in confusion, I rummaged through my bag but didn’t find any. Instead, I found a pink highlighter, I was going to shove it back when Atsumu grabbed it, “That’ll do!” He uncapped it and started coloring his lips, I considered stopping him, but it was very fascinating and a bit funny.
“When’s your birthday? I might buy you one if you think that’s your color,” I said, huffing a laugh. Atsumu motioned for me to wait, a finger raised. I did just that.
When he was done, he handed me the highlighter back. “Stop me if you feel uncomfortable,” He said a bit too suspiciously.
I gave him a nervous smile, then he started leaning in, I leaned back avoiding his face then noticed he wasn’t trying to kiss me. Instead, he went lower and pressed his lips on the redder part of my skin, on my collarbone. I felt my heartbeat speed up but didn’t say anything. He quickly pulled back, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. “There! Now it’s not weird, it’s pretty, and it’s not him, it’s me, I think it’s a great upgrade.”
My cheeks were heating up as I gazed down at the kiss mark on my skin. We could barely see it, but I knew it was there. I could still feel the pressure of his lips against my skin. Tearing my gaze from it, I went to take some paper towel and wetted it, then grabbed Atsumu’s chin and proceeded to wipe his lips properly. “I don’t want you to lick your lip and just- eat the ink like a child- hey stop moving, you did that to yourself.” “You could at least say something!”
When I was done, I threw the paper towel but did not trust my voice to make any sort of coherent sound. Atsumu’s voice however had no problem to spur complete idiocies, “Nooo, don’t go all mute on me, you’re so sexy-“ “Did you really just say that?”
“And I stand by it,” He opened the door and told me to lead the way. The conversation was paused while we made our way outside, the loud music and people made it almost impossible to hear one another. What I could hear was the loud whines of the man at the bar while the bartender was tending to his ‘wounds’ which consisted of one black eye and that’s it. Rolling my eyes, I picked up the pace and exhaled loudly when I reached the outside, fresh air hitting my face instead of gross drunken air.
With Atsumu still behind, I pulled out my phone to look at what he had left on my skin. I pull out the flash to see properly. Idiot… why is it nice… no, no, it’s nothing, it’s just that, nice. Nothing more. Good method to hide the gross ass mark, good for me. Yeah.
“Ah! Soooo you like it so much you’re taking a pic of it? Bring me lipstick next time, I’ll leave an even better mark, maybe two-“ “I’m not taking a picture, I was checking-“ “It out, you were checking it out, because it’s hot, right?”
Maybe. “I think I preferred bastard Miya to loud Atsumu,” I taunted him, hoping he wouldn’t take it wrong. I was caught off guard when he looped his arm around my shoulders, “Nah ye don’t, come on, I’ll get you home,” “Thank God you didn’t say you’d bring me to your place, I would have gagged,” I joked, earning a scoff from the player. He bumped my hips with his, “You know what? It’s actually a great suggestion! I think the night’s just started, maybe we could watch a movie or something?”
My instinct was to refuse his offer. But then again, I would have to stay awake until I got news from Bokuto’s wellbeing, may it be from Kuroo’s phone or a new number if Hinata was still alive. “Don’t you try weird shit, I’m not falling asleep at your place, and it better not be freezing- and also it better not smell-“ “Alright, alright, I get it! My place’s pretty clean ye know? I barely spend time there, how can I dirty it?”
“Right. No weird shenanigans, okay?” Waving me off, Atsumu agreed, telling me it was going to be alright. He unlocked the car and we slipped in, finally surrounded by a comfortable silence.
I let my head hit the back of the seat and exhaled loudly, “How about we go get some food first?”
“Sounds like a plan! You pay for it since I’m paying for the gas of this beautiful baby,” He said as he gently slapped the car door. Giving him an incredulous smile, I said, “Yeah… No, I’m paying for my shit, you pay for yours,”
He threw his hands in an over exaggerated manner, “Fine! But I choose the movie then!”
“I genuinely couldn’t care less of what we’re watching, you do what you want-“ “Wall-E it is,” He started as he started the car, “I think it’s a poetic start to this relationship,”
“Fine by me, I’ve never seen it anyway,” I shrugged as I buckled my seatbelt. I regretted saying this when he looked at me in pure shock and started telling me how it made sense that I made such a bad metaphor.
God was this ride going to be long. But at least, I was no more bathed in tension and feeling the urge to jump off the car. I was feeling pretty content right now, and perhaps Bokuto was right. Perhaps Miya Atsumu was funny and just a little bit cool.
Just maybe.
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idga-buck · 4 years ago
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Some and Others, 1/?
Bucky wasn’t looking for a relationship, he was looking for a good night’s sleep, but when he found you he got more than he bargained for.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 5,758
Content: swearing, soft smut (18+ only), Bucky being clueless, IW and EG just didn’t happen? idk, everyone’s alive and living in the compound #classic, also me fitting in a bunch of information that probably wasn’t necessary for the first chapter but what’s a story without a sturdy foundation?
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After a mission, Bucky is some kind of way. Steve is too careful with him, but he doesn’t exactly blame the captain. Plus as an uncommissioned officer, 70 years without promotion, who is he to disagree. Maybe he isn’t ready for a life of avenging. Certainly isn’t ready for the questions that will follow another sleepless night, so Bucky didn’t stay in. He went out.
His memory wasn’t what it used to be, but Bucky recognized your street the second he’d stepped onto it. He’d parked his bike in the grassy alley on his right, gotten coffee at the Caribbean supermarket across the street when he finally left that afternoon. Technology wasn’t his strong suit, despite his depth of interest in it. There was etiquette and a way to do things that were as nuanced as they were mysterious. Bucky often wondered if people just lived by their own set of rules, leaving everyone else in the dark and only interacting with the persistent few who engaged correctly. He didn’t have the patience for that sort of thing. Shuri reminded him of that more than he cared for, but in terms of debts owed, he could smile through her jokes for a lifetime after the second chance she’d given him.
Bucky Barnes was a ladies man… at some point in his life, but more accurately, his life had been colored with women stronger than him since the day he was born. His mother was the first to hold him, followed shortly after by the older sister who tried to sell him to the milkman. Luckily Mr. Spenser wasn't in the market for a throw away babe and Bucky got to grow up in a house dominated by women. His sister, his mother, his grandmother with the accent that was just gibberish outside of their living room, the two more sisters that were welcomed in after him, though he’d never dream of bartering them away for bubble gum. They were all loud, but kind and could always bring a smile to his face. Even still. Rebecca, the most distant in age, but the closest in spirit, was still living. His baby sister was all grown up to the point of growing back down, shrinking in on herself the way old women do. Bucky made regular trips to the Alzheimer’s care center, sitting with her and loving her as only a brother could. Though her recollection of recent history was gone, Rebecca Barnes could still pinpoint the exact moment that all her girlfriends fell in love with her brother, which made Bucky shake his head and laugh. Her CNAs were worried for her mind when Rebecca introduced them to her big brother, looking closer to a man in his 30s than a man from the 30s, but he assured them that she was correct. He hadn’t changed a bit, she told him with two wrinkled hands on his cheeks. In appearance, not as much as he should have, but in all the other ways people usually mean, Bucky couldn’t feel more disconnected from the man he was when Rebecca was all bright eyes and secret kisses under the corner store awning. Bucky had no problem leveling those boys with a stare back then, but now most of them wouldn’t think twice before using their canes as a switch across his shins just for cocking an eyebrow in their direction. Talking to his mother wasn’t possible anymore and his sister wasn’t in a state to give out girl advice. Shuri was on another continent. Natasha… was Natasha and he would never ask for her help with something like this. Wanda was usually awake late at night when he was, but she was still so young.
Bucky looked up from the street, noting your second floor windows were dimly lit. Golden squares stood out against the bricks, blackened by the late hour, and through the gauzy curtains he spotted movement. Without his mother to advise against it or Shuri to give him something better to do, Bucky reached for his phone and scrolled through the recent calls. You’d called yourself before he left, but thinking that he wouldn’t see you again, Bucky hadn’t actually saved the number. Something of a bad habit, he noted, scrolling through lines and lines of unrecognized and unsaved phone numbers, hoping he’d just know it when he saw it. He didn’t.
Until one appeared on its own, presenting him a choice. Answer or reject. A simple question with unknown consequences. Rejecting the call seemed safer, so Bucky pressed the red circle and resumed his search.
“Weren’t you a spy or something?” Your voice drew Bucky’s eyes up from his phone screen to the now open window above his head. You were leaning out a bit, the posture helping your voice to carry over the surprisingly still busy street.
“Somethin’,” he grinned, pocketing the useless device. Both hands secured in his jacket, Bucky tipped back on his heels to get a better look at you. “Gonna invite me up?”
You shrugged and planted your palms against the window sill to lift yourself up. Even from that angle, Bucky was transfixed by your cleavage. Subtle under the tank top you wore, but he remembered it fondly. As if you could hear his thoughts, your arms snapped closed over your chest, bringing the colorful wings of a kimono with them, shielding yourself with floral patterns and defensive body language that made him take a step backwards. “You didn’t call…” you said and though accurate, your accusation made Bucky regret what he was about to do. After waking from the best night’s sleep of his life, he said he’d call you. No amount of self love could bring that much refreshment into his life and the feeling of waking up after a deep and dreamless sleep was enticing enough. The sex was good for a one off sort of thing, Bucky would even say great, but the sleep that came after… he hadn’t been able to replicate it yet. The lure of a good night's sleep and the softness of your body against all of his rough edges were too strong to stop him now. He was committed to this indiscretion, but before he could defend himself, you’d moved on, already smiling again. “And you just ignored my call.”
Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and lifted in quick succession before he pulled the phone from his pocket again. Saved. And for good measure, he pulled it up to his ear again. You frowned, turning away from the window, presumably to look for your phone. The glass slid shut behind you and Bucky bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited for the metallic purr in his ear to be replaced by something even better.
“What are you doing?” You said over the line.
“Hey, it’s Bucky-“ he heard you stifle your own laughter with a choked ‘oh my god’ in the background. “Remember me?” You hummed and Bucky waited with his eyes on your window. When you didn’t return, he kept talking. “I know it’s late, but I was just in the neighborhood-“ another quiet giggle made him smile as he spoke. “You up?”
“Is this Bucky Barnes’ first booty call?” You asked.
“I guess it is…” he said, half his mouth curving up even though you couldn’t see it. “How’m I doin’ so far?” There was a pause and Bucky started moving toward your door on instinct. It was illogical to think something had happened in those few seconds, but after the day he’d had Bucky didn’t feel confident ruling it out. “Making me nervous out here, doll.”
“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him and Bucky leaned back against the door in relief. “I was about to go to bed… but since you came all this way-“ the end of your sentence was cut off by the loud buzzing in his ear as the lock on the door disengaged from above. Bucky stepped into the first hall, street lamp making the small row of Golden mailbox fronts glitter, and leisurely took the first few steps up. “Better hurry,” you sighed and Bucky stopped, foot hovering over the next step. “Door’s unlocked and I’m already naked.” Bucky was in your apartment and snapping all three locks into their closed position before you’d had the chance to hang up from his impromptu phone call.
You fucked him slowly that night. The rush he felt taking your stairs two at a time dissipated once he was in your bedroom. It wasn’t as frantic or fumbling as it had been the first time and Bucky was happy for the change. When he’d followed you home from the bar, it seemed that both of you had an understanding. One night only, so make it count. It was hard and fast, but so so good. Even the next morning’s repeat and the finale in your shower before he finally pulled away sated had been more like back to back sprints than whatever this gentle marathon was. As if you could feel the stress that Bucky needed to let go of, you moved carefully around him. Totally bare in the bluish glow of the bathroom plug in that lit the scene before him, you took your time undressing Bucky and placing his hands back at his sides whenever he tried to help move things along. When you dropped to your knees, leaving him open and vulnerable standing naked in the middle of your bedroom, he made a sort of wounded noise that made him want to bolt, but didn’t seem to bother you. If anything it spurred you on, drawing more whispers from his rosebud lips until he couldn’t take it anymore. For the first time in his life, Bucky begged for more attention. Not the teasing he did on street corners- come on, baby, you’re breaking my heart here- when a dame tried extra hard to resist his charm. This was real pleading as if he thought he’d die frozen in place without your heat to revive him.
He’d made the right choice. Bucky decided while lying across your bed, one hand twisted up in your pillow case while the other was splayed across your bare thigh, that he’d done the right thing coming to you for this. He could have gone back to that bar or a different one and gone home with another girl just like he had with you, but then he’d be missing the view from under you. Having a new girl everytime Bucky found himself feeling restless sounded exhausting. He’d also determined that his mother would be incredibly disappointed in him if he had rows and rows of unsaved phone numbers from girls that didn’t know they were being used. Finally and maybe most importantly in that moment, Bucky didn’t want to start over with someone brand new. He liked your crumpled linen sheets, liked the smell of ink from the printing studio beneath your apartment. While you rode him to mutual satisfaction, he liked the way your hips rolled sensually over his, liked the slick grind and the dull bite of your nails against his stomach. He liked that after your first, when he asked you to slow down again and extended his hands to you, you took each of them without hesitation. Supporting your weight on outstretched arms, Bucky got to enjoy your hands in his while you gasped out a second. If it had been your first time sleeping together, you’d probably be too prideful or embarrassed to admit that you were tired. He wouldn’t have gotten to hear that whine when you asked if he was close and he replied -smugly- not at all. If it had been your first time together, he’d probably be too prideful or embarrassed to ask you how you wanted him. He wouldn’t know how sweet it felt to have your back pressed up against his chest and he wouldn’t have known to turn you onto your side so he could slip in from behind you. Bucky was so comfortable in your bed with your knee hitched up over his hip, body totally open to his roaming hands. He made the right choice coming back to you and as he finished with a grunt, both arms wrapped around you tight while your arm was bent over his head, gripping his hair with the perfect amount of tension, he’d already decided to make it again.
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The next morning, Bucky was refreshed, feeling like a brand new man. That was the feeling he’d been chasing last night or rather very early that morning, but the tightening in his lower body followed by ultimate release was a fine way to get there. Just like last time, he’d woken up alone only to find you in the bathroom, washing sleep from your eyes and fixing your face. His enhanced hearing meant he could listen to the tap running and the echoing “puh” of you spitting into the sink without having to open his eyes. Comfortable and naked against your pillows letting the familiar sounds tell the story of your morning routine. He didn’t mind waiting as long as you crawled back in beside him like last time. Bucky only peeked twice before he heard the zipper of your makeup bag close and the magnet on your medicine cabinet snap shut behind the mirror. You were back with him in a moment and he turned toward your scent, aloe fresh deodorant and sharp minty breath beckoned him closer and he hummed against your lips. If he cared to move, he’d swallow down the remainder of your mouthwash then swap cool kisses until his tongue tingled against yours, but he was so comfortable. Even more so once you’d laid across his chest, bumping your nose and chin against his until he opened his eyes. Bucky dropped his arms heavily across your back, keeping you planted against him, though you hadn’t struggled or made any moves to leave him. He couldn’t have that with someone new. If he swapped your number for someone else’s, he’d have to flirt and wade through the post sex awkwardness again. He’d have to go out more and hope his charm would work on another. He’d have to perform for them the way he had for you the first two times. The third, in your shower, was messy and wet and fun despite the soap in his eyes, which you wiped away for him while his hands were occupied by holding you up. He wouldn’t have that with someone new until he made it happen and frankly he didn’t want to make it happen. Not yet. Not when you were still cute and still into him and still happy to hear from him even at 2 in the morning when he looked like a creep under your window. Why trade all that just to say he could have another then another? Sex was good. That morning stuff was good too. If it was the orgasm that made him feel alive again, then the warmth of your bed and your lips drifting lazily down his chest was what made life worth living. One gal was enough for him. You were enough.
Bucky hadn’t even noticed that he was drifting off again until you spoke. He didn’t hear you, but he sure it didn’t matter and responded with some ta sentiment of his own. “Thanks. For this.”
“Thank you,” you corrected and he smirked at that, eyes still blissfully closed. “Hey, uh— Bucky…” You sounded nervous and he had to force his eyes open at the sound of your voice shaking around his name. You must have noticed his sudden concern and placed a hand soothingly over his chest. “I just…” you bit your lip and Bucky watched the wheels churn behind downturned eyes. It was sweet, the way you could flip from bold and sexy to this. An errant curl fell out of its place and he felt the desire to pull that twisty rebel between two fingers before moving it back to follow the part you’d intended all the up to his second knuckle. Your hair was the kind he wanted to touch over and over. Not because it was your hair per se, but rather because it didn't have that acrid home perm smell or a hundred little pins holding it in place like his sisters and the other girls he ran around with. They spent hours on their waves and rolls, but you flipped a fist full to one side, fluffing it with your fingers when you wanted his attention and damn if it didn’t work everytime. Before he knew it, a vibranium finger against your temple, following the curve of your ear. Your stunned look made Bucky chuckle. He even patted your cheek in encouragement. After a beat, you were gathered again. Another breath and you spoke. “I just wanted to say, I don’t really do this sort of thing.” His eyebrow shot up at that and you scrambled to correct yourself. “Not this,” you half laughed then gestured to his naked body and yours, hardly clothed. “The bringing strangers home from bars thing. I definitely wasn’t expecting to see you again- not that I didn’t love it- I just didn’t want you to think-“
“I think you’re amazing,” he said quickly to assure you he didn’t think anything else. He wouldn’t either. Couldn’t even imagine anything else after making an ass of himself at your first meeting. He’s felt so out of place and vulnerable and ridiculous trying to take you home the night you’d met, but you hadn’t made him feel wrong or silly for it. For that alone he was grateful. For the sex that followed, even more so. You’d met him with just enough teasing to keep him engaged, but not so much that he felt like he was an unwanted addition to your night and whenever his eyes drifted away like he wanted to run and forget the whole stupid idea, you gently guided him back, eyes and words making it clear that you wanted him too. It was a mutual feeling of desire, as simple as it was complicated. Bucky wanted to keep it simple though, if for no other reason than to keep seeing your awkward smile duck into his neck at the eagerness in his voice. He touched your face again and repeated himself. “I don’t think anything… just that I’m glad I met you… and I’d like to keep seeing you.”
You smiled at him and whatever silliness he felt in his confession evaporated. It was the right thing to say. You sighed and leaned in again like you were going to kiss him, before stopping short and looking up at him through your lashes. “I don’t think I can say no to you.”
“Then don’t,” he said, but it felt like begging again as he hoisted you higher up on his chest to kiss you again. The conversation was over and if you weren’t going to say no to him, then he wanted to start his morning with as many breathy yeses as he could get.
Random serendipitous encounters became less random and serendipitous with every passing week. Bucky was feeling lighter, yet somehow more whole. Boy, did he need that. A woman’s lovin’ will do that for you. He vaguely recalls one soldier or another making similar remarks while he was in Italy. Bucky’s blue eyes belonged to the nurses back then, as his own innocence slowly died with each body dropped by his own marksmanship. This new world, new century he now had to navigate was so different. His enemies weren’t always flesh and blood, even the ones that did bleed bled out in black and blue not Nazi red. Aliens, other worldsmen, some very human psychos with eerily familiar ideologies about who was of value and who was not. Bucky fought next to his friend, spilling blood of all colors when necessary, bearing the stains that Captain America couldn’t as a paragon of justice and honor. Then when the ringing in his ears got too loud, he sought you out. Over and over again. He never showed up unannounced and you always answered his call, even when you shouldn’t. You truly didn’t know how to say no to him and he truly didn’t want you to.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bucky knew it wasn’t love, but he didn’t care. It felt good and it felt right and against his better judgment it helped him sleep at night, knowing you were only a half turn away, hugging your pillow, but content to wrap your arms around him instead as long as he asked. And he asked. When he wasn’t in your bed, it helped him stay sane, knowing that someone in the world was waiting on him, caring from a distance, maybe praying for his return. In the Big War, his mother prayed for him. His sisters too. In these mini wars, fought stealthily around the globe, he had you.
Rebecca was still blessedly alive, but his baby sister only remembered him when she saw his face. He would bet that you remembered him even as he schlepped through the mountains of Siberia for the last time. Always Siberia. Evil men must be allergic to sunlight. Sam had jokingly asked him why he always went back and Bucky had jokingly thrown the Falcon’s coffee away, leaving Sam’s hand empty and his mouth full of indignant teeth sucking. That briefing was blessedly brief and Sam didn’t need the rest of his coffee anyways. The flight via jet was longer, but not as horrible as it could have been. Steve’s sympathetic glances were unbearable. It’s the last time, Buck. Yeah, OK. The mission was a success, if you could call it a mission. Sam spun magnificently through the mouth of a cave while Bucky fired back into it, detonating the whole mountainside and leaving this particular Cold War remnant under an avalanche of snow and well kept secrets, never to be reborn. Steve dealt with the press. He had the face for it. Reputation too. Sam soaked up the due praise that came along with it, the next Captain America with his wings and his wit to carry avenging into the 21st century. Bucky, however, peeled off his heavily armed get up and peeled out of the compound without any formal announcement.
When Bucky left for long periods, most assumed he was doing what Steve Rogers would do. Ride around in his bike, traipse through the old neighborhood noting how much it changed. Captain America was the old man, the icon. He had the luxury of wandering. Bucky hadn’t gone anywhere without a mission in mind since the 40’s. He was a soldier, a weapon and while his mind could no longer be weaponized against him, Bucky was still the guy taking care of things that just wouldn’t wash out of Captain America’s shiny cowl. So when he left the compound, no one asked questions. At least not directly to him, something he was thankful for on the hour or so ride to your place. The Bronx apartment was considerably closer than a nostalgic walk through Brooklyn and he got a lot more out of it. He had no mission in Brooklyn, but you were waiting for him and that was enough.
This particular mission was no different. Steve asked him to stay on site and he declined politely as he could without actually stopping to talk to his friend. Natasha called out his hurried steps and followed him halfway to the garage before giving up at his request. It was glaringly obvious to Bucky how they got along so well. Steve and Natasha were quite the pair. Tenacious friends, like the kind of friends that never give up and definitely won’t let you give up on yourself. He saw it in her fierce allegiance and protectiveness over Clint. Now that Steve was huge and well connected in the Avenging community, Bucky supposed that made him the Barton to Steve’s Romanoff. They were insufferable do gooders too. Sure, Natasha had her fair share of red in her ledger, but once she was with the good guys, she was the best of them. Neither one would hesitate to throw themselves on a grenade or over a cliff if it meant someone else’s chance to live. They were do it or die trying people. Sam was… Sam was Sam. And when he spotted Bucky making a beeline to the exit, he just waved and shouted “have a good ride.” The wink was uncalled for and made Bucky question how much Sam really knew. He was a deadly intuitive little shit and despite Bucky’s best attempts not to even think it… one of the best people he’d ever known. Not that he felt the need to tell Sam that. He probably already knew it. Blessedly, Bucky ran into no other superheroes on his way through the compound. The garage, more like a hangar, was empty. Only the most expensive toys in Tony Stark’s arsenal and a high tech key coded workshop that Bucky felt so out of place in he kept a small tool box of his own so he wouldn’t have to wander through it. God forbid he go digging for a socket wrench and laser one of his fingers off. Anything was possible on Stark property.
Bucky zipped across the Hudson and sped toward the zoo, stopping at the deli on the corner and looking up two floors at the flat corner window. You weren’t waiting for him like usual. He’d pulled off the road once he got away from the compound and called you like he always did, giving you plenty of advance warning. It would be more gentlemanly to ask your permission before leaving home, but you hadn’t turned him down yet and if you ever did, he figured he’d keep driving anyways just to be away from everyone else for a while. Most times, when Bucky rounded the corner, slipping his bike into the space between your building and the overgrown lot next door, you found your way to that window, waving him up and putting a little something extra in his steps. You weren’t there, but you knew he was coming, so he made his way to the building’s entrance. A call, a buzz, a knock and Bucky was in your space again, taking a deep breath and inhaling the sweetness from your kitchen.
Your back was turned to him, having opened the door for him before rushing back to your place at the counter without a formal greeting, and Bucky watched curiously as you dropped little chocolate chip cookies onto a paper plate. You waved your fingers around after using your bare hands to pull them off the parchment paper and sucked your thumb between your lips to rid it of a rogue chocolate dripping. Bucky eyed the plate presented to him then looked up into your eyes.
“I googled you,” you said proudly. Bucky nodded and said okay, like he knew what that meant. It sounded sexual, but he hadn’t seen you in a week and frankly, he was more interested in googling than cookies. “It’s your birthday, Bucky! Why didn’t you say anything?” You looked delightfully scandalized and held out two cookies for him, which he accepted with a half smile. They were warm and started to fall apart between his fingers, so he shoved both into his mouth before making a gooey mess of himself. While his mouth was full, you cleaned up your tiny kitchen and dropped the plate onto the coffee table in the living area, talking about how embarrassing it was that you hadn’t thought to look him up sooner, but how lucky you felt that you’d thought about it after he called. You wished you’d had time to make a cake, but wanted to be home when he arrived, so freezer cookies were the best you could do after work.
You weren’t dating. Not really. That was why Bucky hadn’t mentioned it. Steve and Natasha wanted to make a big stink out of it, but he wanted no part of that. He just wanted to see you and get some of that good sleep he only got in your apartment after wearing you out two or three times. Sitting on the couch next to you, he took another cookie from the plate. They were better than they looked and he planned to clear the whole dang thing before taking you to bed. Maybe he’d save a few for the refractory period. You’d need sustenance too. So Bucky took his fourth cookie, which made you smile even wider and pledge to leave the rest for later.
The truth was, Bucky hadn’t celebrated a birthday in decades. The last one he could remember being awake for was in the seventies. He waited outside the governor's mansion in Bermuda for hours, watching a dinner party eventually lull and disperse. The Winter Soldier had no clue of the cruel irony watching another man’s party on one’s birthday, the asset’s only focus was quickly killing the governor and his companion once they stepped out of the house for a walk. He’d spared the dog though, a massive and beautiful beast without a single aggressive bone in its body who loped away from the scene whining. You hated that story when Bucky confessed it. He hadn’t felt the need to go into much detail regarding his time as the fist of Hydra. At first because he didn’t care for you to know. It was a fling. Fun. What pieces he did remember from those days were anything but fun. After determining that he liked you, really liked you, Bucky kept his trap shut for fear of scaring you. You knew who he was in theory, but as long as he wasn’t relaying his bloodiest days to you like he was now, maybe you wouldn’t look at him like the monster he didn’t want to be anymore. To his surprise, you hated that he sat in a tree watching people eat and drink and laugh the night away on his birthday, regardless of whether he knew it at the time. However, you zeroed in on his attempts to spare the dog, filling in the blanks that somewhere deep within the Asset, he had maintained some of his humanity. Some of his Buckyness.
“I don’t know if that helps… or if it makes everything worse…” you said, hesitating to go on, but he caught your meaning. Was it better to think that Hydra succeed in wiping him clean, using only his body and latent memories, discarding his mind all together? Or was it somehow hopeful, to think that in all their trying to eliminate Bucky Barnes in order to free their Asset, some piece of him had remained intact? Bucky wasn’t sure he could stomach the idea that any part of him had been present during grizzly assassinations, nor could he ever fully shake the idea that he wasn’t. Either way, these conversations weren’t what he came to you for.
While you were still looking shy, wondering if you should have stopped him from telling his story, Bucky kissed you. It was sweet, not just from the chocolate on his breath. “Thank you,” he said softly, thumbing a brown smudge at the corner of your mouth. “For the cookies. For listening.” His eyes passed over each of yours in turn. “Thanks for being here.”
“Of course,” you smiled. It wasn’t as obvious as you made it sound, but he liked that you felt it was. “I could be around more, you know.” Bucky didn’t know what you meant, but that became clear in a matter of moments. You sucked in your lips and started again. “I know we haven’t talked about...uh, well, what this is, but you’ve been coming over for a while now and I guess…”
“You guess?” Bucky prompted you to continue, when you trailed off.
“I didn’t expect you to still be calling me, so I guess I’m asking,” you said. “Asking what we are now?”
“Oh.” Bucky hadn’t meant to say it like that, but it came out like that and your eyes widened immediately. He scrambled, grabbing your hands quickly and holding them both in a firm pile against your thigh. “Oh, meaning, I didn’t think that’s what we were doing here, so this is unexpected.”
“Oh,” you respond and Bucky imagines you meant it exactly how it sounded. Disappointed and the single syllable precursor to his being disinvited from your apartment. And your bed. And your everything.
“But, I like the idea,” he supplies quickly, but he can see your look is hesitantly hopeful. “Of more, I mean. Seeing where… ya know.”
“Yeah,” you smile and Bucky breathed out his relief. “So we’re together…?”
“As together as we can be,” he said, having no clue what he meant by it, but it seemed to be the right thing considering how you kissed him. You pulled your hands from his to wrap behind his neck and fit yourself into his lap. Bucky’s hands went to your thighs, spread wide over his hips, and he squeezed his way up the backs to your jean pockets, slipping his hands inside to squeeze again. “Here or…” Bucky pulled away to catch his breath and nod in the direction of your bedroom.
“Take your girlfriend to bed, Bucky,” you laughed, kissing him again and he stood with you still in his arms, legs clinging to his lower back. Girlfriend. Okay, Bucky decided in a snap. He could work with that. Especially if it meant chocolate chip cookies and birthday sex. Which reminded him and you giggled as he turned back around, hoisting you higher up on his torso with the vibranium arm below your butt and stooped carefully to grab the plate of cookies with the other before taking you and your cookies to bed.
His first relationship in the 21st century had surprised him. Come out of nowhere and nothing. One moment he was standing at a bar, nursing a beer that wouldn’t affect him at all while he listened to talk about your job before not so subtly asking about his, the next it was his birthday and he had a mouthful of chocolate chip cookies while you had a mouthful of him. It’s funny how fast life changes. If only he’d known just how quickly his new relationship would fall apart.
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A/N: I’ve been cooking up this series for a while now and I thought, why not post the first bit and see what happens. First time writing for this fandom, so we’re diving in head first with a feckin’ long series and some foolin’ around. I do welcome tags if you’re interested.
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jorvach · 4 years ago
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Been using the Take Notes - Journal of the Dragonborn mod for Skyrim to, well, take notes in an ingame journal for a kinda-sorta fanfic. Here’s what I have so far, plus some screenshots to set the mood.
---1. Some Life Experience--- Master Drogolf has sent me all the way to Riften to pick up some kind of magic crystal! He wouldn't tell me what it's for, but I'm sure it's important... though not important enough for him to go in person. When I asked about that, he said it'll be a chance for me to explore the real world a bit, rather than just sitting around in the tower in Helgen and reading about it.
I can't argue with that, so I'm off! First stop, Riverwood!
---2. City on a Hill--- Riverwood was a pleasant little village, and the people were friendly, but I didn't stay long, being excited about seeing the big city for the first time! Whiterun sits atop a great hill rising up from the plains, painting a breathtaking picture! The Jarl's palace, Dragonsreach is at the very top, looking down on the city. The stories say the dragon Numinex was held captive in that very building... How I wish he was still there, I've always wanted to speak to a dragon! Sadly, they're all extinct. And then there's Jorrvaskr, mead hall of the legendary companions warrior band. This city is truly steeped in history! But before learning all about it, I should head to the local inn and get a hot meal!
---3. Journey to the East--- During my stay in Whiterun, I did some odd jobs for some of the citizens, earning me enough coin to prepare for the journey through Eastmarch, which is supposed to be far more dangerous than the area between Helgen and Whiterun. That much is true, for on the border between Whiterun Hold and Eastmarch stands Valtheim Towers, home to a small gang of bandits. Or I should say, -was- home to bandits. As soon as my spells felled their leader, the rest of them fled into the hills, leaving the main road to the east a safer route... for now.
It's getting late, so I should find a place to rest. Perhaps that ruined tower set into the mountainside.
---4. Kaidan--- The tower turned out to be some kind of hideout for the Thalmor! Fortunately, it seems to have been almost abandoned, as there were only two of them inside. Good thing, as I'm not sure I would've fared well against a full garrison of Justiciars! They also had a prisoner, a man named Kaidan. I freed him and helped him get his equipment back from the Thalmor, including a large Akaviri sword inscribed with some strangely familiar runes. For aiding him, Kaidan has offered to become my bodyguard to repay the debt. I tried to tell him he didn't owe me anything, but he wouldn't hear of it, and so I've earned myself a travelling companion! I shall have to ask him about the runes, but for now, I really need some rest!
---5. Inigo--- We've arrived in Riften at last! While renting a room at the nearest inn, the innkeeper said that she'd been asked to watch out for someone matching my description, then handed me a strange note asking to meet in Riften Jail... Weird. I'll look into it later, for now, I should meet with the court wizard and collect Master Drogolf's crystal. --- Terrible news! Wylandriah, Riften's court wizard, tells me that Drogolf's crystal has been stolen! I'd rather not return from my first real adventure having failed, so I'll try to find some clues as to who stole it, and where I might find them. Following up on the mysterious note from the inn seems as good a place to start as any. --- I met with the one who left the note, A Khajiit named Inigo. He seems to think he tried to murder me, which is why he turned himself in to the guards and has been wallowing in guilt ever since. I tried to tell him he was mistaken, but he wouldn't hear of it, and begged me to kill him. I refused, of course, but still, I couldn't find it in me to just leave the poor fellow to his despair, so I offered to let him join us in our travels, to make up for what he thinks he did. Kaidan didn't like it, but something tells me Inigo can be trusted. Time will tell if I'm right.
Unfortunately, he didn't know anything about the crystal. Back to square one.
---6. Lucien--- A priestess of Mara, Dinya, said she saw a shifty-looking man handing over something that "looked like a soul gem, but green" to a figure in a black cloak! From what Dinya overheard of their conversation, the cloaked person might be going to Falkreath! It's not much to go on, and I don't even know for sure if it's the right crystal, but it's all I have. Luckily, a merchant is leaving for Falkreath very soon, so we could hire on as guards and get to Falkreath quickly! --- We asked around at Falkreath's inn, but apparently, strangers clad in black are common here. No surprise, considering the famous graveyards in these parts. After a fruitless, day-long search, we took a room at the inn. The next morning, as we were having breakfast, we were approached by a pretty fancy-looking young man in even fancier clothes, who asked us if we could take him to Helgen. He wants to meet with my master, apparently. After finding out about my apprenticeship, he became very enthusiastic, and offered a large sum of gold to escort him there. Having no further clues, I suppose I'll have to return home empty-handed... hope the crystal wasn't too important.
---7. Black Wings--- Something horrible has happened! As we approached Helgen, we saw great plumes of smoke rising from the town, and then heard a terrible roar! And then, taking wing from within the walls, a massive beast with wings black as night! A Dragon! Helgen is ruined, burned to ash and razed by the might of the dragon. We couldn't find anyone left alive, and Master Drogolf's tower, the only home I've ever known, is nothing but rubble. We didn't even have time for a proper search, as the dragon flew off toward Riverwood. Inigo insists we must follow, to warn the townspeople of the danger, provided they haven't already been slaughtered too. As much as I would like to stay and mourn for my home, I knew he was right. --- We've each been dealing with the events at Helgen in our own way. Lucien has been borderline panicked ever since, and talks incessantly about anything and nothing to keep calm. Kaidan is even more silent and brooding than usual, and is constantly grasping his bow, watching the skies for any sign of the dragon. Inigo, bless him, has been trying to keep our spirits up with jokes and encouragement, but I can tell he's shaken up bad. And as for me, I alternate between grim determination and feeling like I'm a daze, like I'm only having a terrible nightmare.
---8. A favor for a Jarl--- Riverwood was, fortunately, not burned down. We continued on to Whiterun to warn the Jarl of the danger. Jarl Balgruuf seems a sensible man. When he heard our news about Helgen, he quickly commanded his Housecarl to send men to protect the other settlements in his hold. He also introduced us to his court wizard, a somewhat abrasive man named Farengar, who has been studying the history of dragons. He's asked us to delve into a ruin in the mountains above Riverwood, named Bleak Falls Barrow, in search of something called a Dragonstone, supposedly a map of ancient dragon burial sites. --- As people say, Bleak Falls Barrow is full of Draugr, undead monstrosities who patrol the halls and strike down intruders. Their eyes glowing in the dark chill my spine. What with that, and the destruction of Helgen, it'll be a miracle if I ever get a peaceful night's rest again! Unexpectedly, Inigo is also terrified of these undead, despite being an adventurer of great experience. Perhaps I'll ask him about it sometime. For now, we will continue into the dephts of the Barrow, to find the Dragonstone.
---9. The Word Wall--- We've found the Dragonstone! In a sealed tomb deep in the barrow, it rested in a sarcophagus with a powerful Draugr, perhaps their leader or something - if Draugr have any kind of hierarchy... Something weird happened when we approached the back of the tomb however. There's a wall with a bunch of ancient writing - a Word Wall, Kaidan called it. When I got closer, I heard strange chanting and saw some of writing glowing? And then it was as if the world went dark, save for that noise and light. When I came to, the Draugr had risen from it's sarcophagus and was fighting my friends! Fortunately, they slew it just as my eyes cleared, and they seem no worse for wear. I'm very confused about what happened to me, and the others are clearly concerned about it as well. Still, I feel fine for now, and we need to return the Dragonstone to Farengar. If I'm lucky, maybe he'll know something about the Word Wall too.
---10. Success Story--- We got the Dragonstone back to Whiterun, and were well rewarded. Farengar even promised to look into the incident at the Word Wall! I suppose I'll return to Dragonsreach and ask him about it later. For now though, Inigo's suggested we celebrate our success with a hot meal and a bottle of mead or two, so it's off to the Bannered Mare for that - and a good room for the night afterward! It feels like ages since I've slept in a warm bed! ---
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impalas-r-important · 4 years ago
Text
Love of my Life - (6) How it all started
Summary: This is the story of how Dean and Y/N met.
Warnings: Some show level violence. Dean being a sap.
A/N: Okay, we're hitting rewind to delve into some back story before we continue on any further. I loved writing these next few chapters about how Dean and Y/N met. This is set just weeks after Dean returns from hell in S4. The italics are Dean's thoughts. Let me know if you'd like a tag for the rest of the series. Thanks for all the love!
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DEAN'S POV
Sam and I were in over our heads and we knew it. What was supposed to be a small nest of vamps ended up being a whole house full. The first few we took care of easily, then they started coming out of the woodwork. Left and right, up and down, they were everywhere. So, we did what we always did; we went to work. Heads were rolling, blood was spattering, fangs were flying, but I was backed into a corner with 3 of them closing in on me and Sam had his own problems. He was on the floor, trying desperately to back away from two onrushing blood suckers. Both of us weaponless, we exchanged looks as if to say goodbye, and I prepared myself to fight for my life.
I raised my bloodied fists, staring straight into the eyes of the monster who would surely kill me. He took half a step forward before stopping dead in his tracks as a quick flash of a blade sliced through his neck so smoothly that his head stayed balanced for a moment before slipping off to the ground with his body following suit. I didn’t have even have enough time to feel shocked when the remaining two vamps who were cornering me met the same fate. What the hell? I thought to myself. I looked up to gauge the situation when I saw her. Long Y/H/C hair danced through the room, swiftly flowing as she expertly beheaded pests left and right, a machete in each hand.
“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help?” She yelled as she slid one of her blades over to me. I picked it up and joined back in the fight. She had already taken care of the vampires after Sam and he was by her side, picking them off quickly. I took care of another three, leaving just two left who were quickly retreating and too far away for us to catch them on foot. The strays had almost made it to the door when I saw the mystery hunter throw her machete, nailing one square in the back. She then grabbed my knife from my hand, flinging it at the other, leaving both of them lying on the ground. Two bullseyes. Damn.
Sam and I jogged over to them, pulled the blades from their backs and, in unison, sliced their heads off. Chests heaving, we looked up at each other, then over to the new girl who was wiping blood from her machete on the jacket of one of the victims.
“Bleh.” I heard her mutter to herself as she casually kicked a severed head from her path and walked over to us.
“Sam and Dean, right?” She asked.
Sam and I, both still shaking off the shock, hesitated to answer. Sam cut the silence. “Uhm, not to sound ungrateful, but who are you?”
“Your new favorite person.” She gave a teasing side smile. “I’m Y/N. Bobby Singer called me and asked if I could check in on you boys. He said something about you having your heads too far up your asses to ask for help.”
I got lost in her eyes when she looked at me and my heart was beating so heavily that I felt my legs shake with every thump. I could only hope she and Sam couldn’t hear it beating. Sam noticed my dreamy state and hit my side, pulling me from the trance. I cleared my throat and desperately searched for the words to invite her to stick around for the rest of the night. I had to get to know her. A million phrases ran thought my mind, but all that managed to slip from my mouth was, “We have a shower.”
Sam dramatically turned his head and looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out my ears. Y/N raised her eyebrow and nodded a little. “Okay. Good for you?” She replied, clearly confused.
“Oh, no, I just…. I, uh…” I stammered. Sam quickly interrupted me. Thank goodness.
“I think what my brother is trying to say is that you are welcome to come back to our motel and clean up if you want.”
“I actually have a room not too far off from here, but I appreciate the offer.”
Crap. Say something, Dean! Don’t just let her go.
“Well can we at least meet up with you and buy you dinner? We owe you that.” I, too eagerly, counter-offered, just relieved that I spoke in full sentences.
“Okay, yeah that sounds good. Let me go get this blood washed off first though.” Y/N agreed.
“Great, meet us at that old timey diner on main street at five.” Sam added.
“See you then, boys.” Y/N looked between the two of us and smiled.
“It’s a date!” The words flew out of my mouth before I even thought about them twice. “Well, not an actual date, but you know…” I rubbed the back of my neck and grimaced at my own stupid self. Y/N gave a small laugh and sent a wink my way before leaving.
Sam waited until the door was closing behind Y/N before he turned to me. “Dude... We have a shower?” He mocked, clearly trying to suppress his laughter, which escaped in a snort anyway. “You’ve got it bad!”
“I do not!” I tried to fight, but I knew I was lying to myself. Right now, I should be feeling lucky that we didn’t die a horrible death, but all I could think of were Y/N’s deep eyes, brilliant smile and that wink she sent my way. Damn, that wink. “Shut up. Let’s get outta here.”
Sam’s laughter continued all the way back to the motel. He was having way too much fun reenacting the “lost puppy” look on my face.
Sam was in the shower and I walked over to the mirror hanging above the desk and gave myself an internal pep talk.
You are Dean freaking Winchester. Girls don’t scare you and you will not be an idiot tonight!
I gave myself a reassuring nod then reminded Sam to hurry so I could wash all the vampire gunk off of me.
We pulled into the diner just before five and the waitress seated us. The minutes seemed to drag on and I couldn’t help but check my watch every few seconds.
“Dude, relax. I can feel your anxiety from across the table.” Sam said, not picking his eyes up from his menu. I sent him a glare and began to read down the list of food they had here. The bell at the door dinged, signaling someone had entered and my eyes shot up. There was Y/N, dressed in blue jeans and a plain white shirt. How could she be so beautiful in something so casual? She looked around and I waved my hand at her, my heart singing the second she saw me. I was mesmerized by her doing something so simple as just walking over to us at the table.
“You two clean up nice.” She greeted. Sam had purposely sat in the middle of his side of the booth with our coats on either side of him so she wouldn’t have any choice but to sit by me. You would have thought I had just finished running a marathon with how fast my heart was beating.
“So,” she picked up her menu and glanced over it, “you guys been here before? What’s good?”
Sam answered first. “We got some take out last night. The grilled chicken salad is pretty good.”
“Nah, come on. We’re celebrating! I don’t know about you guys, but seventeen vamps inside an hour is a personal record. You can’t celebrate properly with salad.”
I tried my best to hide my smile at her comment.
“My go to is always a cheeseburger of some kind. Preferably with bacon.” I added.
“Mmm, you know what? Bacon does sound good. I’ll go for the BLT.” She smiled and shut her menu, placing it on the edge of the table. Man, this girl just keeps getting better. “So, I’ve gotta admit, I never thought that the first time I’d be meeting the famous Winchesters would be me saving your asses.”
“You’ve heard of us?” I ask, trying my hardest not to stare too much.
“Are you kidding? Everyone in the hunting community knows who you two are. Plus, Bobby loves you boys more than he’d ever admit.”
“I remember Bobby talking about you, too.” Sam joined in. “He said he loved you like a daughter, but he never sent us out on cases with you because he didn’t want us to ruin you.”
“Hah! Yeah, that sounds like Bobby.” Her smile absolutely lit up the small diner. “He told me he didn’t want me ever getting involved with you boys because you were bad influences. Well, mostly just Dean actually.” She looked at me and added, “Bobby said you’re too much of a womanizer for me to be around.”
I didn’t want her to think that I was interested in her just to use her. My soul wanted to get to know hers.
“I used to be.” I admitted. “Not so much anymore.”
“What changed?” Y/N asked.
“I guess going to hell and coming back really changes a guy.” I laughed.
“Fair enough.” Every time Y/N looks at me, I get a rush of adrenaline. I’m trying my hardest not to blush when the waitress comes over to take our orders.
Dinner was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. We exchanged hunting stories and talked about our lives a lot. Y/N’s family had died when she was little, and she bounced around between Bobby and a few other hunters who helped raise her. She seems to be the most put together person for having a past like that.
Y/N excused herself to use the bathroom and Sam made his move. “Alright, Dean, I’m going to head back to the motel. You good to walk?”
“What? Why?”
“I’m going to give you two some time to yourselves. Tell her I was just tired from the hunt and wanted to head back.”
I give him a suspicious look, but I’m actually more than happy I get some one-on-one time with Y/N.
“Oh, and don’t sleep with her. Bobby will send you straight back to hell.” Sam added with a hard pat on the back as he takes the keys from me and heads out the door.
Y/N comes back and asks where Sam went.
“Oh, he’s kind of a party pooper. He went back to the motel for some shut eye. You don’t mind if I keep you company, do you?”
“I’d like that.” A shy smile crept up on her face.
“So, we’re celebrating. How about some dessert?”
“Hell yes. You are speaking my language. I have the world’s biggest sweet tooth.”
“What are you in the mood for? I guess you get to pick since you saved my ass.” I was obviously hoping she’d choose pie.
“Anything chocolate.”
“Hmmm,” I look over the small menu off to the side of the table, “chocolate cream pie? I love me some pie.”
“Perfect!” She waived the waitress over and order a whole pie. A girl after my own heart.
A few minutes later, a beautiful, massive pie is set down on our table with two forks and we dive in. I ate my fair share, but Y/N polished most of that thing off.
“I’m impressed.” I sit back and rub my full stomach as I look at her finishing the last few bites of the pie. “I’ve never seen any girl eat that much.”
She shrugged. “I love chocolate. Plus, hunting makes me hungry.”
I can’t help but admire her every movement. She’s so kind and graceful, and her hair falls so perfectly around her shoulders. I can’t find one flaw and I know I’m in trouble. She catches me staring at her a few moments too long, but I shake off the embarrassment and keep the conversation flowing, not wanting this night to end. We talked for hours about anything and everything. Dreams, hopes, fears, music, food, family, and before I know it, the waitress is telling us that we have to leave because they are closing. My heart drops because I just can’t get enough of this girl. Everything in me was so drawn to her.
I open the door for her, and the slight breeze is just cold enough to give her goosebumps. Immediately I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders, holding it up enough to let her arms slide in.
“Thank you.” She smiled.
“Don’t thank me, I’m only standing here right now because you saved my life.” We stand silent for a few seconds just looking at each other before she breaks the stare and reaches into her pocket, pulling out her car keys.
“Well, let me at least give you a ride back to your motel. It’s too cold out here for you to be walking.”
It wasn’t too cold, but I wouldn’t turn down that offer in a million years.
“You mind driving? I’m pretty sleepy.” She held her keys out to me. Something about the way she said “sleepy” and looked up at me while drowning in my jacket made me go crazy. I hadn’t known this girl for even 12 hours, and she owed my entire heart already.
“Of course.” I gladly took her keys from her and subconsciously placed my hand on her lower back like we were some cheesy-ass couple, but she didn’t stop me, so I left it there as I lead her to the only car left in the parking lot, which I assumed to be hers.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
“At the Red Rock motel, about ten minutes that way.” She pointed north. I couldn’t help but laugh as I moved her arm to the right.
“Sam and I are holed up there too, but it’s actually east.”
We both laughed as I started up the engine.
“Don’t judge me. I drove twenty hours straight to save your asses and I’m tired.” She joked. “Plus, I’ve never been that good with directions.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got your own personal compass now.” I sent her a wink, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to fight the blush that was creeping up on her cheeks, which, in turn, made me blush. Dammit, am I a freaking teenager again?
We pulled into the motel and I walked her to her room. She shrugged off my jacket and thanked me as she gave it back and told me goodnight.
I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of my face the entire walk back to my room, and upon entering, Sam noticed.
“Aww, Dean’s in love.” Sam half mocked from the bed he was sitting on, with his computer in his lap.
“Whatever.” I brushed him off. “You got a new case?” I nodded to the computer and newspapers that he had been studying.
“Yeah, I think so. Some missing people in Montana have shown up with their hearts ripped out.”
“Sounds wolfy to me.” I added as I began to get ready for bed. “Maybe Y/N wants to come with us. You good if I invite her?”
Sam raised his eyebrows at me. “No, I don’t mind. But be straight with me for a minute here. Dean, how much do you really like this girl?”
I didn’t even feel the need to lie. “I really, really like her. Like I’m already in way too deep for not knowing her for a full day.”
“Wow. The great Dean Winchester is whipped. Never thought I’d see that day.” Sam closed his laptop and began to gather up all his papers. “Be honest, was it when she threw the machetes?”
“The freaking machetes, man. That was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen…” I trailed off. “But no, I mean, that’s part of it, but it’s just everything about her. I can’t say it’s one specific thing, because it’s just every single detail about her draws me in.”
“Alright Nicholas Sparks, well I’m getting some shut eye and you should too. We have a long drive tomorrow.” Sam turned off the lamp by his bed and turned away from me, snoring almost instantly. I slid under the covers, knowing that I should be exhausted after a long day that involved almost dying, but all I could think about was talking to Y/N tomorrow.
Chapter 7
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@vicmc624
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sterekruinedme · 4 years ago
Text
It's been a long time (without you)
on AO3
"You trust him. No, it's more than that. It is worse than that! You believe in him."
Barry was still staring at the door where Snart had just left when Iris' voice cut through him. "Iris-", he tried to placate her, but she cut him off. "He kidnapped Caitlin. And Cisco. And he hurts people! And yet you still believe in him!"
Barry sighed. He was suddenly very exhausted. "It is not like that, okay? We have a deal. He even saved my life!" Barry wasn't sure why they were even fighting about this. It's not like he was teaming up with Captain Cold again. Cold had just been there to warn him of Madon and the Trickster.
"Oh yes, he saved your life! And then he betrayed you!"
Barry sighed again. "Why are we fighting about this?", he asked. Iris's shoulders slumped and she finally uncrossed her arms. The fire in her eyes was still burning, but she seemed calmer now. "I just don't trust him."
Barry could feel his lips twitching. "I appreciate the concern. But Cold put himself at quite a risk to break into the house of a metahuman and a cop, so I'm just gonna trust him on this. Plus, he owed me one, and despite everything Cold has a codex. And he hates being in someone's depth. This is probably just his messed up way of saying thank you for saving his sister's life."
Iris huffed but relented. "He was right about the hot chocolate, you know? It's not the same without marshmallows."
.
Barry couldn't help but feel slightly smug. Leonard Snart had joined the Legends. Barry knew there was good in him. He knew it! The news made something warm expand in his chest. He inhaled sharply when he realized it was pride. He was proud of Snart for doing the right thing.
"What are you so happy about?", Iris asked from where she was sitting on the couch. For one ridiculous second Barry wanted to hide the postcard he had found in the post from her eyes. But then he reminded himself that it was just a postcard. And this was Iris he was talking to.
"Oh, uhm, it's a postcard. From Snart." He couldn't help but fidget as he watched Iris's eyebrows shoot upwards. "Captain Cold sent you a postcard?!", her voice went high with disbelief, and Barry winced.
"Yes?", he didn't mean for it to sound like a question. "He joined the Legends. The postcard is from 1989, I guess he thought it would be funny." Barry looked down at the postcard again, warmth flooding his chest at the caption: I guess you were right. Don't let it get to your head, kid. Cold.
When he looked up from the postcard again Iris was studying him silently. He knew that look on her face and he really did not like it. "He wrote you a postcard. And it is from the year you were born?" Barry could feel his cheeks flame. "Uhm yeah?" The hand that wasn't holding the postcard was now awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. It was a nervous habit he had wanted to get rid of, but apparently he couldn't. It took all of his willpower not to start fidgeting under Iris's scrutinizing gaze anyway.
"Look, I know you don't like him, but it is just a postcard, okay?" He tugged the offending piece of mail into his pocket and crossed the room to sit down on the couch as well. Iris was still looking at him like that. Like he was a mystery she wanted to solve, a particularly interesting piece of information she had not considered before. She looked at him like she sometimes looked at a piece of evidence for one of her articles.
"Of course, sorry. Let's just watch the game, okay?", she asked but her voice was still off. She let Barry pull her close, but he could tell that her thoughts were miles away.
"Barry?"
He had not noticed that Iris had entered the room. If she was back from work already then he really must have been sitting here for a while now.
"Barry? Are you okay?" He hummed and turned to look at her. Something about his appearance must have thrown her off because suddenly Iris hesitated to come closer to him
Maybe he should get up from the floor. His knees were starting to hurt from kneeling for so long.
"What happened?", Iris asked and Barry knew that fear in her voice all too well. She was expecting bad news, the kind of news that would leave him powerless on the floor of their bedroom.
"It's just-", his voice sounded raw even to his own eyes and he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. It wasn't "just" Snart's death. He swallowed and forced himself off the floor. "Snart's dead."
Barry saw the moment the words registered with Iris, saw how surprised she was to see him in this state over his dead enemy. But he wasn't just an enemy, was he? Cold had become an ally.
"Oh." Iris was staring at him with that look again and then her eyes flickered to his hands. He was still holding the postcard Snart had written him. "Oh", Iris repeated again and something shifted in her eyes. "He meant something to you, didn't he?" Her voice was careful now like he was a spooked animal that needed to be soothed.
"I-", Barry's first instinct was to deny that, but that would be ridiculous. "He was an ally, of course I care if he is dead. Especially if it is because I pushed him to become a hero." He said, his shoulders sagging under the realization that if maybe he hadn't pushed Snart to become a hero, he might still be alive.
"Barry, whatever happened to Cold is not your fault. He made his own choices, you know that better than anyone."
"I know", Barry mumbled and refused to look Iris into the eyes.
.
"Why HIM?", Iris had asked and Barry was asking himself the same thing now. He tried to justify his actions with the fact that Snart was the best thief he knew and that time was running out, but he had also missed the older man. He had missed their banter and the slow drawl of his voice and-
And he knew that he could trust him.
Snart proved him right when he refused to let Barry murder King Shark and he knew that he would be grateful for that when the dust had finally settled. The fact that Snart could read him so well, actually knew him well enough to know what he was planning and to come up with a different plan made something warm settle in his stomach.
Barry couldn't leave him in there with ARGUS agents sure to arrive any second and King Shark still on the other side of the door. No matter how much Snart taunted him, he could hear how scared he was in his voice, in the way it shook when he said his name. It felt an awful lot like he had to choose between Snart and Iris, but he just could not bring himself to leave him there. He had promised Iris he would do anything to save her, but he could not do this.
And Lyla just had to call him out on it, didn't she? She might be fooled into thinking that Barry was just a good person, a hero, too good to sacrifice somebody for his own gain. But Barry was not so sure about that. If it had been somebody else behind that door, somebody he cared about less, he might have left them there. He felt sick just thinking about it, but he couldn't stop. He didn't recognize who he was becoming.
Snart hit too close to home when he called Barry on it as well. He had not been sure if Barry would save him and that cut deeper than it should have. "I see the bad in you", he said but it almost sounded admiring. Almost. But then Snart put his hand on his shoulder and looked at him with that intense gaze. "Call me sentimental, but I think the Flash should always be a hero." Barry swallowed and had to avert his eyes, a private smile playing around his lips.
He suddenly wished he could just tell him. Tell Snart how he would die, save him somehow but he knew that that was impossible. "Be careful, Snart."
"There are no strings on me", Snart drawled and Barry smiled sadly at him. He knew how untrue that was, how attached to his team Snart would become. Attached enough to sacrifice himself for them.
He heaved a sigh and turned away from him, suddenly aching to get back to his own time, to get away from Snart's piercing gaze.
.
After everything was over and the dust had finally settled, after almost losing Iris, after having thought her lost, Barry felt completely drained. He dreaded the conversation he would have to have with Iris. About who he had almost become. He dragged himself out of bed with a sigh.
Iris was sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop, but she looked up when Barry entered. They had been tiptoeing around each other for a few days now, the air between them always charged with too much tension.
"Hey", Barry mumbled, awkwardly rubbing his neck.
"Hi", Iris closed her laptop and took a deep breath. "I think we need to talk." Barry huffed and sat down across from her. "I think you are right." "Look, there is something I didn't tell you. When Snart and I broke into ARGUS, things went really wrong for a second and I had to make a choice. I had to choose between leaving him there to fend for himself and getting back to you." Barry trailed of and hesitated, flicking his eyes to Iris and back down.
"Barry, I am not mad that you didn't sacrifice Captain Cold for me, if that is what you are worried about. Everything worked out and I am fine", her voice was soft and reassuring, but Barry swallowed hard and forced himself to look at her. "It's not that. I-, if it was anybody else, I-" He took a shaky breath. "I considered it. I considered leaving him there but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to do it. But if it had been somebody else in there with me, I think I would have. I would have sacrificed them. And that scares me."
"Do you have feelings for him, Barry?", Iris asked after a beat. "Is that what you are trying to tell me?"
Barry shook his head so fast, he was sure Iris only saw a blur. "No, my feelings for Snart don't matter." And shit, that-
That was not what he had meant to say at all. "I mean I don't have any! And that's why they don't matter." Didn't he though? A small nagging voice whispered in his mind, sounding annoying familiar but no-
He would deal with that question later. Not that it really mattered, because Snart was gone and he wasn't coming back and Barry should have warned him, he-
He put his head in his hands and just focused on breathing for a moment before he looked at Iris again. "What scares me is what I would do for you. Savitar only existed because I turned to darkness after you died. I would have killed somebody to save you. Since I was a little kid, I always thought that you would be the answer to all of my problems, that if we would be together everything would be alright."
He smiled sadly at Iris, who was staring at him with sad eyes. "I love you, I do! I just think I was so blinded by the fantasy, so in love with the perfect future I imagined for us that I became obsessed with it and that made me dangerous."
"You love me. You just aren't in love with me." Iris concluded with a bitter twist to her mouth. She had always known him too well. There were tears in her eyes and Barry could feel his own emotions welling up as well.
"Not anymore. I don't know what happened. But I do know that I love you."
"Just not like that", Iris finished for him and Barry nodded.
Iris slid the ring of her finger, the tears were running down her cheeks now. "I am so sorry", Barry whispered, but Iris shook her head. "It's not your fault. You can't help how you feel."
.
The weeks after the break-up were a blur. Joe didn't understand and his team treated him like he was fragile or perhaps going insane, so he mostly spent his time alone to avoid the pity and confusion and awkwardness.
The postcard had somehow found his way onto his nightstand when he had unpacked after moving out. He had used it as a bookmark at first, but now it was permanently residing there with the text facing upwards.
Admitting to himself that Iris had been right had been uncomfortable at best. Somewhere along the line, Barry had developed feelings for Snart. Sometimes he stared at the postcard and mourned what could have been. But he always shook himself out of it, because no matter what he might have felt, he was still an enemy to the older man. So instead, he focused on figuring out his sexuality.
He googled a lot and found some ridiculous buzzfeed quizzes before he found a forum for the lgbt community. The members were welcoming and open to answering his questions and he soon found a label that fit; bisexual.
Coming out was surprisingly easy. Joe simply hugged him tight and promised that this didn't change anything. Cisco simply said "cool" and high-fived him. Iris smiled sadly at him but gave him a hug nevertheless.
.
Months later Barry found himself at Saints and Sinners of all places. His feet had somehow carried him to the bar. The same bartender who had been here all those months ago was still behind the bar and Barry sat down with a heavy sigh. The bartender eyed him for a second before her face dawned with recognition. "Oh hey kid, Cold isn't here today."
Barry swallowed and tried his best to smile. No, of course he wasn't. He wouldn't ever be here again. "No, yeah, I know." This was probably a stupid idea. What had he been thinking? He could get into seriously trouble with his boss for just being in this bar. Barry shook his head. "I don't know why I'm here, I should probably go." He hadn't even ordered a drink yet, not that it would make a difference, but he left a tip anyway and turned to leave.
On his way out he bumbed into somebody and looked up to apologize only to freeze. Standing before him was Lisa Snart. She was eyeing him suspiciously and fuck- Barry really hoped that Len had kept his word and also that Lisa hadn't figured it out yet. "Oh, you're Cisco's friend", she said after a moment. Then her smile turned sharper and she cocked her hip. "How is Cisco?"
"Fine, he's fine. Excuse me", Barry mumbled and stumbled out of the bar.
.
Shyla was just bringing him his drink into the backroom when Lisa sauntered in with unmasked glee on her face. "Cisco's cute friend was just here. You know, the one that looks like bambi? Do you think he might bring Cisco with him sometime? Or maybe I should ask him for Cisco's number if he comes back?"
"Bambi? Oh yeah Len, the kid that bothered you a few times last year, do you remember him? He left when I told him you weren't here", Shyla cut in and Len saw the gears turning in Lisa's head. Oh no.
"Wait. Those bambi eyes. THAT kid is the Flash?!", Lisa exclaimed as soon as Shyla was gone. Len rubbed his temple. He could feel a headache coming on. "Yes."
Lisa had crossed her arms, but she was smirking now. "I can see why you were so obsessed with him. He is exactly your type, isn't he?" Len only glared at her. "Does he know that you are", she trailed off and vaguely waved her hands in his direction.
"Back from the dead?", he finished her question. "No."
Lisa frowned. "Why not?"
Len sighed heavily. He swore he could feel the headache intensifying. "Let him enjoy his wedded bliss before the announcement of his nemesis returning ruins his fun", he drawled but he knew that Lisa had always been able to look straight through him.
"He looked really sad, you know?", she said carefully. "There must be a reason why he came to Saints and Sinners. He could have gone anywhere."
Len knew what Lisa was implying but the thought of the Flash missing him was simply absurd. He remembered the last time he had seen the man vividly after all, remembered the fear and betrayal he had felt when the hero had nearly left him in the cell with that horrifying shark creature, remembered the resignation that of course the Flash would sacrifice him for his precious fiance, hell he had taunted him with his ruthlessness just moments before.
He also remembered the bone-deep relief when Scarlett had turned back for him.
Len snorted. "He is probably glad I am gone." He tried to sound cold and aloof, but his voice betrayed him halfway through. Lisa only raised her eyebrows at him.
.
"He is not married. He is actually very very single", Lisa announced when she strolled into his safe-house days later.
Len had been on the verge of taking a very much deserved nap, but now he groaned and sat up on the couch. "What?"
Lisa smirked. "He is single."
Len sighed. "Ramon? Congrats. Now, if you would be so kind", he made a shooing motion with his hand.
Lisa's smirk only widened. "No, your little Bambi. He isn't married." Lisa sat down on the couch next to him. "He is very single."
Len only gaped at her for a moment, before he exploded: "I'm sorry WHAT?" For a moment he was afraid that something had gone wrong, that Iris had died. It certainly would explain why Barry had been so sad.
"They called the engagement off a while ago", Lisa continued. "So Iris-?"; Len asked with bated breath.
"She is fine", Lisa confirmed and then just looked at him.
Len couldn't help but feel irritated. So he had risked his life to save Barry's precious fiance and then they hadn't even tied the knot?
"Are you okay?", Lisa asked tentatively. Len looked at her flatly and forced himself to smirk. "Peachy."
Maybe he would feel better if he checked on Barry, saw the situation for himself. It's not like he was worried for the speedster, he just wanted to know what had happened. One little visit to Starlabs surely couldn't hurt-
No. He had promised himself he would stay away from metahumans and heroes. He had no desire to get himself killed again.
.
"Bambi is here again", Shyla announced as she entered the back room where Len was going over some plans.
"I told you to stop calling him that", Len grit out but the bartender only looked amused. She had known him for way too long to feel threatened by him and they were both keenly aware of it.
"I think he is looking for something." Shyla's tone was poignant. "He isn't going to find it here", he grumbled.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. Something keeps him coming back. Or someone." Len ignored her raised eyebrow and glared at her. Shyla glared right back. "He doesn't know I'm-", he gestured vaguely, "back."
"Back from the dead, you mean? Oh, that's right, because you had a second chance at life and you spent it hiding away and planning small robberies you never actually go through with. What are you so afraid of?"
Len gritted his teeth. "Thank you Shyla, that will be all."
.
In the end, Len couldn't stay away. He had never been good at denying himself the things he wanted and he wanted Ba-
He wanted to see what was up with the speedster.
Looking back he really should have known that following a metahuman -and it wasn't stalking, shut UP Lisa- would be a bad idea. Barry had him pressed against the alley wall before Len could even register what was happening.
"Who the fuck are you? Why are you following me?", the speedster hissed, making Len raise both eyebrows.
"Now, now Scarlett. What a very rude way to greet an old friend." Len smirked as he lowered his hood, but he was wholly unprepared for the sound Barry made, a choked gasp followed by an angry, feral growl. "Do you think this is fucking funny? What the fuck are you, huh? A shapeshifter of some kind?", he sounded breathless.
"Hey, Barry, it really is me." Len made sure to keep his voice gentle. This certainly was not how he had imagined their reunion. Not that he had imagined it.
"No, you died. They told me, you-" Barry sounded as breathless as Len felt.
"Surprise?"
Barry narrowed his eyes at him. "Prove it. Prove that you are him."
"I wrote you a postcard. Sent it to you from the year you were born", Len said quickly, still pinned to the wall by Barry, but the other man only scoffed.
"You could have just broken into my apartment and seen it there."
For a moment Len was speechless. "You-" He swallowed. "You kept it?"
Barry's grip on him loosened some, but he was still eyeing Len suspiciously.
Len sighed. "Fine. The last time I saw you, I told you the Flash should always be a hero."
Barry's arms fell lifelessly to his side and he stumbled a step back. "You're alive", Barry whispered and Len laughed because duh-
"And you're not married. What happened there, huh? After I risked my life for your precious fiance...", Len trailed off. He had not been able to keep the venom out of his voice.
Barry flushed and ducked his head. Len observed with great interest as his blush spread down his neck. "Yeah, Iris and I didn't work out."
Len tilted his head to the side. "Mmh, it's a shame really. The least she could have done after you saved her life, was not break your heart."
"She, uh, she didn't." If anything Barry flushed an even deeper shade of red and Len needed a second to catch up with what the speedster had implied.
"YOU broke HER heart?", he all but yelled. Then, forcing himself to calm down and not get his hopes up,"Oh my, it seems like we have a lot of catching up to do, Scarlett."
.
Barry couldn't believe it. Leonard Snart was alive. They were sitting at a table at Saints and Sinners of all places. Snart had ordered them both a beer, although he knew that would not do anything for Barry, and there was a plate of fries on the table. It almost felt like a date. That thought made Barry want to laugh just a little hysterically. After all, they had been in this exact position before, and that had definitely not been a date.
Snart had suggested this bar to "catch up" and Barry hadn't even thought about saying no. But now the older man was just looking at him, studying him, while Barry felt like vibrating out of his skin. "How did you-, When-, I mean how long have you been-"
Snart smirked at him. "Breathe Barry."
If he heard the way Barry's breath caught at the use of his name, Snart ignored it. "I've been back for a while now", Snart said, but didn't offer any other information. "And you never thought to mention that you were alive? We all thought you were dead!"
Snart levelled him with a cool look. “Why? So I could let myself be dragged into the superhero life and die again?” His voice was controlled, but there was an emotion in his eyes that Barry could not decipher.
Barry shook his head. “No. Just so that I could know you were alive. I was sorry to hear that you had died.” He hesitated. “I missed you, Snart.”
Snart snorted and shook his head. “I know you are a hero kid, but even your heart cannot be so pure that you missed your archnemesis.” There was a playful lilt in his voice, but the same indecipherable emotion was still in his eyes.
Barry swallowed. “You know you were never my archnemesis. That was Thawne”, he said, aiming for playful but missing. “I’d like to think that we weren’t even enemies, at the end.” Barry stared at the table, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. Maybe that was all that Snart ever thought of him; that he was his enemy, the annoying metahuman that always thwarted his plans.
“What would you call us then, Barry? Friends?” Barry didn’t have to lift his eyes to know that Snart was smirking unkindly. His voice had hardened. Barry didn’t know what he had done, but he was certain that he had pissed the older man off somehow.
Still, he swallowed nervously and said softly:” I’d like to think we could have been.”
Snart scoffed. “Wake up, Barry.”
“Don’t treat me like some dumb little kid”, Barry growled and finally looked into Snart’s eyes again. He had enough of the older man acting like he didn’t care. “You’ve been calling me Barry all night. What’s up with that?”
For a second Snart’s carefully crafted façade broke, before he was back to smirking at Barry.
“That is your name, isn’t it?”, Snart asked innocently.
Barry huffed. “Yes. My first name. No ‘Scarlett’ or ‘kid’ or even ‘Allen’. You’ve been calling me Barry since we sat down.”
Snart glared at him and shifted in his seat. His gaze flickered across the room, before landing on his beer. He shrugged and drained what was left of his drink in one go, before turning back to Barry. “You really want to go there today, huh? Alright, fine, let’s go there. Tell me, Barry. Why aren’t you married?”
That wasn’t a conversation Barry was ready to have, not with Snart, and definitely not sober. He sighed and looked sadly at his beer, wishing desperately that he could get drunk.
.
Len didn’t know what he had expected when he had suggested that Barry and he should catch up, but it certainly wasn’t this. Barry looked like he wanted to drown himself in alcohol or run away. Or both. If Len hadn’t been feeling like things were about to spiral out of control, he might have enjoyed this. Still, he couldn’t help but fluster the speedster just a tiny bit more. “Oh, and call me Len”, he said and winked at Barry.
For a moment Barry just stared at him, opening and closing his mouth as if unsure how to even begin answering Len. Then, he dropped his gaze back to the table and shrugged. “Iris and I just didn’t work out.”
Len snorted unattractively. “The love of your life? And it just didn’t work out? Somehow I find that hard to believe.”
Barry blushed and mumbled something that Len didn’t catch. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
He could see the speedster’s jaw clench in frustration, but then Barry finally raised his gaze again and stared straight at Len. Oh, how he had missed the fire in Barry’s eyes. “I said she is not the love of my life.” He shrugged, but levelled Len with a smirk. “I figured out that I wasn’t in love with her. I was in love with this perfect idea of her, but she deserves better than somebody who is obsessed with this perfect marriage because he saw it in a stupid time machine.” At Len’s confused frown, Barry shrugged. “Long story. Anyway, you actually helped me figure that out.”
Now it was Len’s turn to be speechless. He stared at Barry, waiting for the younger man to explain what he had meant.
“You know when the door closed and you were locked in with King Shark, I really scared myself. For a moment I hesitated. If it had been anybody else I might have left them there and-“ Barry sighed, a frustrated and helpless little sound, and raked his hand through his hair, before catching Len’s eyes again. “That is just not somebody I ever wanted to be. It put a lot of things into perspective. Made me re-evaluate a lot of things.”
Len had barely heard the last part of what Barry had said, his mind going in circles. “If it had been anybody else?”, he blurted out, hating how breathless he sounded, but unable to stop it.
Barry smirked humourlessly. “Told you we could have been friends.”
Friends? Maybe in a different lifetime. But Len knew that there was something else between them, something else hiding at the edges of their complicated relationship. He leaned forward, suddenly driven by impulse and desire. “Is that what you want Barry? Do you want us to be friends?” Without his permission, one of Len’s hands reached across the table. Barry gasped softly at his touch, but he didn’t pull away. “Is that really what you want?”
Barry shook his head and pulled his hands out of Len’s reach. In a blur, he was standing beside Len. “I don’t want us to be friends”, he panted and the next moment Len had a wide-eyed speedster in his lap.
“Correct me if I am wrong, but I don’t think that is what you want either.”
Len gripped Barry’s hips tightly, keeping him steady and secure in his lap. “You’re not wrong.”
Kissing Barry was nothing like Len had expected. Not that he had thought about it often. But the meta-human kissed gently but deeply, hungrily but never demanding, claiming him but also making him feel cherished.
Len knew that he could easily get lost in Barry Allen. After all, he had done it before, had gotten lost in his obsession with The Flash. But now things were different. Maybe it would not be such a bad thing to get lost in this Barry, in the Barry that climbed into his lap and kissed him until they were panting for breath, the Barry that had followed him into Saints and Sinners without a single complaint, the Barry that had missed him, that was happy to see him alive and well.
Yes, it would not be a bad thing to get lost in Barry Allen.
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henrystickminbrainrot · 4 years ago
Text
Hi yes I was really in the mood for writing, so...
As always, this AU belongs to @rhmg-au . They’re amazing, please follow them, reblog their art, give them fanart, support them in any way possible, etc.
This is a sequel to the previous fic, this time focusing on the Toppat Clan. 👀
TW: killing, killing mentions, guns
——————————————————————
Ellie was biting her nails.
She knew it was a bad habit, but even so, she couldn’t stop. She always did it when she was nervous.
And saying she was nervous was an understatement.
Henry had been captured by the Government, of all people. Reginald said they had some history, but Ellie didn’t know much about that.
All Ellie knew was that leadership was entrusted to her.
Look, she already knew being leader was tough just by watching Henry.
But it was even more tough than she imagined.
Plus, it wasn’t like she was in the best mental state. But her’s was better than Reginald’s, anyway.
To be honest, though, anyone’s mental state can be better than Reginald’s.
Ellie took a sharp breath as she collapsed on her desk and buried her head in her hands. She just rested there for several minutes, trying and failing to not think about Henry.
She couldn’t help it. She owed his life to her.
That was a debt she could never repay.
Was he safe? Was he warm? Was he happy? Was he lonely? Was he well fed? Was he hurt?Was he even alive?! Those questions constantly followed Ellie, swarming around her like a nest of angry hornets.
Ellie had never been one to show emotions. But with loosing her best friend and all the stress of being appointed the temporary leader, she felt like crying more than once.
But she kept it together. If she was stable, the clan was stable. And she knew that’s what Henry would’ve wanted.
Speaking of Henry...
Ellie looked over the notes from her last meeting. It was unbelievable that some Toppats didn’t want to save Henry. So what if it was a trap? Henry is the clans real leader. He got captured helping the clan, and now the clan was going to save him.
That was the plan Ellie was proposing, anyway.
Reginald was fully on board, though she suspected that was just so he could look for RHM. But having him agree with Ellie, despite any alterior motives, was good enough for most of the clan. Now they had to prepare for the Government raid.
Ellie heard a knock at her door, and she jumped. She smoothed her fiery red hair as she walked over to and opened the door.
“Reginald?” she sighed. His face was anxious and excited at the same time. Normally, seeing him would be a surprising sight, but the two had been leaning on each other a lot after Henry was captured.
“Is this a bad time?” he asked. Ellie shrugged.
“Nah. I was just taking a break after that exhausting meeting, anyway.” Ellie said, taking a step back from her door so Reginald could walk in. They sat down on the two beanbags Henry had bought for her. Seeing anything reminded her of Henry. That was a real bittersweet feeling.
“So the Government raid was finally agreed to today,” Reginald began, twiddling his mustache. It wasn’t malicious or anything, it was just a bad habit. Just like Ellie biting her fingernails.
Ellie nodded. “I’m anxious, but the thought of seeing Henry again makes it more than worth it.” Reginald nodded fervently, knocking his top hat off his head. He put it back on before continuing.
“After the meeting ended though, I started thinking. I feel like... we’re endangering the clan, just to go on this rescue mission.” Reginald continued, his voice guilty. Ellie resisted the urge to scoff.
“Henry endangered the clan by going to Earth to rescue the Toppats there, and you didn’t feel bad about that,” she reminded. Reginald hesitated.
“That was... different. Those clan members were in mortal peril. Henry and Right are more... valuable hostages. They wouldn’t kill or hurt them... right?” Reginald asked quietly, his hand curling up into a fist.
“No, of course not!” Ellie quickly said reassuringly. Reginald gave a forced smile, but it was better than nothing.
“I’m just worried about the clan. The Government is so strong... I don’t want anyone to die.”
Ellie took a couple breaths. “Casualties are inevitable in situations like this.” she began. “But if we prepare enough, we can minimize them.” She shrugged. “Just my two cents, though.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Reginald replied unhappily. “But if we can do this the peaceful way, than we don’t have to worry about casualties, right?” he asked hopefully.
Right. The peaceful way. Ellie was going to turn over the Norwegian Emerald and the Romanian Ruby in exchange for Henry and Right. ‘Course, if they didn’t accept the trade, they’d be forced to get violent. Ellie already sent the trade offer to the general, warning him that if they declined, blood would be spilled, and it would be spilled on his conscience.
Ellie personally didn’t think the general had much of a conscience, but the trade was worth a try.
“Don’t worry, Galeforce is smart, or so I’ve been told,” she assured. “He doesn’t want any blood to spill, just like us.” Reginald nodded sagely, a bit of his confidence restored.
“I... thanks, Ellie. I really hope this raid is peaceful.” Reginald said, getting up. Ellie gave a little salute as he left. She leaned back in the beanbag, getting comfier. It felt good to have someone to talk to. Henry was... a man of few words.
After five minutes, Ellie forced herself to get off of the beanbag. She took in a sharp breath as she thrust herself back into her paperwork.
———————————————————————
The Day of the Raid
Well, today was the day.
Where Ellie and Reginald would get their best friends back, whether through trade or force.
Ellie straightened her top hat, wanting to look her very best. Pure adrenaline was the only thing keeping her going right now.
“I’m coming Henry,” she whispered fiercely, lightly slapping her cheeks to phyche herself up.
Despite how excited she was to see her best friend again, despite what she told Reginald, she couldn’t escape the fact that some of the people fighting alongside her wouldn’t be coming back.
It was a gruesome thought. A terrifying thought.
But Henry was more than worth it.
Ellie put on her top hat and grabbed the stop sign leaning on the wall. She chuckled slightly.
“My favorite weapon,” she murmured as she opened the door to her bedroom, taking in many breaths. The walls were filling with clan members getting ready to fight. Ellie easily found Reginald in the crowd. That was a talent of hers. Reginald walked over to her.
“This place is packed. I didn’t realize how many people were willing to go on this mission.” Reginald commented. He had a lot more confidence today, or so it seemed. Both he and Ellie were faking it. Both he and Ellie were terrified. She didn’t know about him, but Ellie was lying to herself just enough that she was able to forget about her fear, just for a moment.
“Henry and Right were both...” Ellie struggled for words. “Important to the clan. On a personal level, I mean.”
“All our members are,” he murmured, his face sad as he was reminded of the ones they’d lost to the mysterious Toppat Killer.
Ellie wanted to find that killer, beat them until there was nothing else to beat, and get revenge for their fallen friends.
“Thinking about them isn’t what you need right now,” she reminded him, her tone fierce, but considerate at the same time. Not sure how well she was pulling THAT off. Reginald cleared his throat significantly.
“Yes, I’m aware,” he sighed. “We should probably head down to Earth, don’t you think?” Reginald prompted. Ellie nodded, a fire in her eyes that couldn’t ever be extinguished.
———————————————————————
Reginald was terrified.
Of COURSE he was terrified. Who WOULDN’T be terrified?
He wished he wasn’t, though.
He was just so worried about Right...
But that wasn’t worth thinking about.
Or maybe it was.
As he and Ellie dragged the two gems behind them, Reginald wasn’t sure WHAT to think.
Other than how much he missed Right.
If the Government did anything to him, he’d crush the whole lot of them.
Or that’s what Reginald kept telling himself.
There was no way to know what had happened to Right until the clan made it to the Government base, gems in tow.
General Galeforce and a blond woman walked out the front door, an odd glint in their eyes.
It occurred to Reginald that woman was Dr. V.
He got a sinking feeling in his chest, but he couldn’t quite say why.
Ellie nodded at the troops as a way of telling them to halt, and she walked over to Galeforce, weaponless.
It was a way of showing peace, she said. It was foolish, in Reginald’s opinion. But if it helped get Right back, he wasn’t complaining.
“General Galeforce,” she said curtly, doing a small bow. Galeforce was silent as his icy eyes surveyed the troops, than the gems.
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing so much troops,” he commented coldly.
“You’ve taken our leader and a very close friend. Bringing this much soldiers is just common sense,” she replied calmly.
Ellie always had the right thing to say. That was something Reginald envied. If they never got Henry back, she’d make a fine leader.
“Have you come to a conclusion on our offer?” Ellie prompted.
“After much careful consideration, we’ve declined it.” Galeforce replied, chuckling at the stunned look on Ellie’s face.
“Any death of our or your troops will be on your hands. Remember that.” Ellie warned, raising her hand to signal the troop to start fire. As she did, however, a lightning fast bullet shot from the roof of the building into Ellie’s side. A sharp screaming broke out as gunshots were fired everywhere.
Reginald knew that bullet wasn’t from a gun. It was from a cyborg. Only question is, was it Right? He didn’t have much time to ponder this, though, as he rushed to Ellie’s side.
“I’m fine,” she said through clenched teeth. “Find Right, but find Henry for me, ‘kay?” Sven rushed in and grabbed Ellie as she started to black out. Reginald gave him a quick thumbs up as he took off running, ducking and weaving between the crowd. He was lucky to have missed the especially close bullets. He ran into the Government building. Finding Henry was the most important thing for the clan, but finding Right was the most important thing for HIM. After all Reginald had done for the clan, he figured that he could be a little selfish.
His first thought was the jail cells. That would be too easy, but he had to try. He ran drivenly through the building, hoping the clan was okay with every breath.
He went down a passage he assumed was the cells, and sure enough, he was right. There was only one person in the cells.
“Reginald?!” Henry cried, surprised. “Are you okay? Why are you here?” He connected the dots pretty quickly. “For Right. Of course. But- wait-“ Reginald kicked down the jail cell door.
“No time,” he grunted. “Where’s Right? Where are they keeping him?” Henry took in several sharp breaths.
“That’s what I was trying to say. The thing is-“ A bullet narrowly missed Henry. Reginald snorted and grabbed his pistol, shooting and killing the guard.
“Where is he?” Reginald demanded.
“Dr V!” Henry cried. “She joined the Government and... reprogrammed Right.” His gaze went dark. “Among other things.” Reginald was stunned.
Reprogrammed?
The Government had a brainwashed cyborg working for them?
That couldn’t be good.
“Those BASTARDS!” Reginald yelled. “Right is still a HUMAN! That’s- torture! I’ll kill them all!” Henry looked uncomfortable.
“Look, Reg-“ Reginald shoved Henry aside, tossing him a revolver.
“We’re going to rescue Right, kill Galeforce, and get the clan out of here,” he snarled. Henry shrugged.
“Can’t say that’s not a good plan.” he replied, walking beside Reginald.
“Do you know where he could be?” Reginald asked. Anger was really the only way he could handle his emotions. Reginald had never gone through something like this before. Above all, he hoped Right wasn’t too far gone. Henry shook his head, looking at the ground.
“No, sorry. From what I gathered, he was kinda all over the place.” Reginald let out an annoyed huff.
“Then we’ll tear this place apart looking for him.” he said grimly. As he and Henry walked through the Government base hall, Henry stiffened.
“I hear something... metal walking.” he whispered, sticking a hand in front of Reginald to stop him from going any further. Now that Reginald had stopped, he heard it too. Right! Although it probably wouldn’t be the reunion he wanted it to be.
“What should we do?” he whispered back.
“Walk toward the noise. Quietly.” Henry warned, starting to creep toward the sound of metal walking. Reginald kept pace with him, his heart beating faster and faster. He and Henry stopped at a corner, and Reginald snuck a quick look over the corner. That was Right, alright. Reginald looked over at Henry and nodded. Henry grasped his gun, but Reginald fiercely shook his head no. Henry WASN’T shooting his Right Hand Man. No way. Henry looked at Reginald curiously.
“I’m going to talk to him,” Reginald breathed, his words so quiet they faded into air. Henry looked panicked. Reginald fiercely shook his head. “No, you can’t come with!”
“Who’s there?” asked a familiar voice. Henry gave Reginald a quick salute as he walked calmly toward Right.
Pretty quickly, a gun was aimed at him.
Reginald could tell that Right would’ve shot by now if he were any other Toppat. But the mere sight of him caused Right’s now green eyes to glitch red.
“Right, it’s just me.” he said calmly, though on the inside he was anything but. “Reginald Copperbottom. Don’t shoot.” Right was holding his head as Reginald slowly reached out toward him, but Right shoved him away.
Well, it couldn’t be that easy.
Suddenly, a bullet was shot. Not from him, Henry, or Right. A third party. Another cyborg was rushing down the hallway. This one was wearing red headphones. Henry gasped sharply.
“No no no no,” he whispered, tearing up.
“Henry, go take care of that other cuborg while I try to snap Right out of it.” Reginald commanded. Henry flinched as he made eye contact with the other Android, but Reginald wasn’t focusing on them. He reached out toward Rights hand. Right shoved him away, aiming a gun at him.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Right yelled, his eye glitching green to red and back again. Reginald held his hand in front of his face.
The one with the ring.
Right immediately tensed up as he saw the ring. Reginald gritted his teeth and got up.
“Right, we both don’t want to hurt each other,” he said calmly as Right fired a series of wildly inaccurate bullets. Right sank to the floor, his whole body shaking and pulsing with electricity. Reginald took a sharp breath and ran toward Right, hugging him tightly. He heard him gasp and struggle slightly, but Reginald would never let go, not even when Hell freezes over.
“R-Reg...i-i... n-nald?”
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sapphire374 · 3 years ago
Text
Soy Sol: Chapter 12 (I'll Be There Through Every Step)
Wattpad Link
Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17
Ámbar runs into her apartment with tears falling on her face. She tries to escape into her bedroom, but Simón catches her before she’s able to. “Ámbar, what happened? Why are you crying?” Simón guides her to the couch and she cries on his shoulder in the comfort of his arms. Tears smearing the mascara all over her face. “Remember when I told you I had a meeting with some students from Law school. Well, the truth is I wasn’t going to meet for any school project, I went to go talk to my biological mom,” Ámbar tells Simón. “Look I didn’t mean to lie; I just didn’t feel like hearing anyone tell me how bad of an idea it was. I felt like I owed that moment to myself, to discover more who I am before I married you.”
“Ámbar I would’ve never stopped you and you know I always support you on every decision and step you make. Us getting married means that we have to trust each other. You have to trust me that I’ll always be here for you no matter what. I know it’s tough, to try to discover more who you are. That happened when Luna was trying to discover from who and where she came from.” Ámbar nods and wipes away her tears from the tissue Simón gave her. “It didn’t even matter anyways since part of me doesn’t believe her but then the other part of me wants to. It made sense everything she said but still hurts, a lot,” Simón holds her tight as she tells him everything Sylvania told her.
“Originally I was considering on meeting Sharon as well to have some questions answered but I don’t want to end up feeling hurt again and in tears like today. Maybe I should just leave everything in the past… I don’t know,” Ámbar says. “I know this can be very hard for you but if that’s what you want, I think it’s a good idea, to speak to Sharon even just a little if you’re ready. Maybe it can tie some loose ends, and you can finally have some of those questions answered. That’s the least you deserve.” Ámbar stares to her lap and thinks about it for a second. Simón gently holds her hand and lets her know, “I will always be here, whether you decide to go talk to Sharon or not. I’ll be here every step of the way.” Ámbar holds out her arms and gives Simón a tight hug. She kisses him on the cheek and lays her gentle face on his shoulders again.
Jam and Roller
It’s the next morning and the whole gang is huddled around Delfi as she prepares their skating video. The nerves crowd the air as she finishes the project on her computer. “Done! It’s ready you guys,” she exclaims. Some are anxiously sipping their shakes while others are tightly holding on to their companions. Pedro stares in awe and shows how proud he is of his soulmate and the whole gang. “You guys this is just the first step into making this dream, the Jam and Roller, stay alive and come true. You all should be proud because we have finally came together, worked hard and did an awesome skating routine. We got this,” Luna announces. “On ready, one, two, three… Jam and Roller!!” the gang all chant.
Delfi presses the button on her computer and it’s official, the video has been sent to the competition’s organization. After sharing a group hug with Juliana, they resume to their posts. “Since today is a special day in which we sent the video, I’m willing to give you guys this day off. Enjoy it, you all truly deserve it after how hard you guys have been working,” Juliana lets the team know at the rink. Gastón heads over to where Matteo is at and says, “hmm well someone seems to be saved by the bell.”
“You’re right, speaking of which I’m so excited to finally sing that song, I’ve been working on for Luna. I spent all night practicing it hoping she forgives me, and everything can get back to normal. I hope this plan works,” Matteo chuckles. “Don’t worry amigo, everything will be fine and lately I’ve been seeing her in a much happier mood. I think she even probably forgot about the arguments and such,” Gastón suggests. “Yeah, I hope so.”
Luna rolls by Matteo and he doesn’t help but stare at her. “So, are you going to talk to her, or should I have to do it for you?” Gastón jokes around. Matteo takes his advice and heads to Luna where she is taking off her skates. “Hey Chica Delivery, are you getting ready for the concert I’m having today,” Matteo asks. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Luna giggles. “Glad you said that cause I may or may not have a surprise all planned out,” Matteo comments. Luna gasps and couldn’t help her excitement cloud the air. “Chico Fresa, I didn’t know you were the mysterious type?” Luna and Matteo begin to laugh in synchronicity. “Well, I guess there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me then.” Matteo’s phone begins to buzz. He picks it up and answers the phone call.
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Once he has hung up, he lets Luna know he has to leave. “I’m sorry but I have to go now to start preparing for the concert. I would love to continue this conversation, but the surprise won’t reveal itself on its own hmm,” Matteo teases. Nina rushes to Luna after seeing him slip away. “Luna, what was all that giggling?” Nina whispers. “A special moment that truly felt like it hasn’t happened in ages,” Luna responds.
Jazmín and Delfi both sit together on the couch as they discuss their plans on how they’ll find out who the secret admirer is. “So, I was thinking we can look at all the comments of your recent video and maybe find some clues as to who the secret admirer is. I feel like they probably must have known you from your videos I’m assuming,” Delfi states. “Of course, they know me from my videos, I am the most popular on the web. Who honestly wouldn’t want to date me?” Jazmín insists.
A delivery man holding a large bouquet of flowers enters the Jam and Roller and hands them to Jazmín. Delfi stares in shock. Jazmín pulls out the card and reads “Mi amor, I chose these flowers because they represent the beautiful tones of your eyes and bring out your inner sparkle. I hope these make you feel the happiness I feel just seeing you.” Jazmín holds the card close to her chest and doesn’t help but cheer. “Oh my Jazmin, this person is head over heels in love with you,” Delfi says. “I know! Whoever this is, he already sounds so charming.” Delfi is beyond excited for Jazmín but can’t help but feel a little worried for her friend since they still don’t know who this person is. Why are they sending them anonymously? She finds this a little fishy.
Sharon’s Apartment
Ámbar knocks on the door, she shakily turns the knob when she hears the door unlock from the other side. “Come in,” Sharon states while her personal caretaker guides Ámbar to the dining room as Simón follows her in. “Don’t be shy and take a seat.” Ámbar and Simón pull two chairs and sit down in response to Sharon. She slowly takes a sip from her tea as the room fills with silence. Ámbar is beginning to have flashbacks of all the lonely nights she would have being with Sharon.
“It is a pleasure getting to see you again Ámbar, you hadn’t visited in 7 months. I was beginning to worry that maybe you have forgotten about me,” Sharon admitted. “No, it wasn’t like that, I have been just so busy with law school and managing the Jam and Roller. That’s all,” Ámbar replies. “You’ve always been busy, that’s never changed. I suppose that you’re here but not only to just meet me or stop by to say hello because you would’ve done that before. I can sense you’re here for something,” Sharon remarked. Ámbar turns her eyes towards Simón as a sign for help. “Ms. Benson, I don’t mean to intrude but Ámbar has decided to come here to ask about her past,” Simón answers. “I was wondering what made you decide to adopt me?” Ámbar asks.
Sharon takes a deep breath. “In the past, I had always wanted a kid, but it never seemed like the right time. When I heard Sylvania was planning to give her child up for adoption but didn’t know who would be fitting to be the parent of her baby, that’s when I saw it as a sign of fate. It was meant for me to be your mom,” Sharon takes another sip of her tea. “I’m a little surprised since you never seemed like the ‘loving children’ type. No offense or disrespect,” Ámbar comments. “You know I was a lot different before the fire, after that everything felt a lot stressful with life in general.” Sharon reaches out to hold Ámbar’s hand and feels the ring on Ámbar’s finger.
“You’re engaged?” Sharon questions. “Yes,” Ámbar responds. “And you never told me?!” Sharon shows her dismay and stays silent. “Well, it was pretty recent, I was planning to tell you I was just not sure when or how. It’s complicated and you know that plus you never liked Simon anyways,” Ámbar said. “I know we’ve never had such a close relationship but just know I’ll forever regret not being that loving caring parent you deserved to have. I know it’s too late, but I still care about you and love you.” Sharon begins to cry and tries to wipe her tears with her fingers. “I know madrina, I know, and I love you too mom.” Ámbar heads out with Simón since she thinks it’s for the best.
Benson Valente Mansion
Monica is seen gathering some tulle and fabric in the living room. She hears the door unlock and it’s Ámbar and Simón. “Oh, hello guys! I’ve already begun preparing some of the table arrangements for the wedding reception,” Monica states gleefully. Ámbar looks a little flushed and just nods trying to avoid crying. “Mija, what’s the matter? Is everything okay?” Monica seems concerned for Ámbar. When she notices Ámbar doesn’t say anything, she does what she knows best, she hugs her. Ámbar hugs her back.
“Well, I think I should leave you two in private,” Simón whispers to Monica. Simón leaves to the kitchen when they head to the couch as Monica gives Ambar the tissue box. “Have you ever felt empty inside? Feeling as if everyone you knew as a child and grew up lied to you. That your own story held in the hands of someone else. I feel like….. me trying to uncover the pieces are as if their edges are shattered and there’s no way on putting the puzzle together. Nevermind, this all might sound very silly to you,” Ámbar sniffed. Monica thinks for a little bit. “It’s not silly at all Ámbar, it’s normal to feel this way not being able to know your own story of how your life began. But just know it doesn’t make you who you are entirely. For example, when I look at you, I don’t see the girl who was manipulated by her madrina. I see a strong-minded, hardworking, caring young girl beside me who does an excellent job managing the Jam and Roller while attending Law school. Not anyone can pull off all those moves at once, and you do it so effortlessly. You may not know the full story and only some parts of it, but you are not your mother’s mistakes. In fact, I’m proud of you. After everything you went through, you still managed to seek the right path in life, and it worked. You gave it a second chance, you had what’s so important to have, and that is hope. So, when you walk down the aisle wondering ‘who am I,’ you’re Ámbar Smith, the one who overcame it all.”
Ámbar turns to Monica sobbing, but this time with a huge smile on her face, even showing her teeth. “How do you do it?” Ámbar asks. Monica looks at Ámbar with a confused expression. “How do you know exactly what to say at the right time?” Monica smiles back giggling alongside Ámbar. They stay wrapped in each other’s arms on the couch. Ámbar starts glancing at all the beautifully tied table arrangements for her wedding, how you can tell the amount of effort that was put in each one of them. That’s when it hits her.
When they break away from each other’s arms, Ámbar faces Monica. “Can you be the one to walk me down the aisle? You have always been there for me whenever I needed you these past couple of years and…. I don’t know how to say this, but you have showed me how it feels like having a mom. Why wouldn’t I want my mom there?” Ámbar starts tearing up again. “It would be an honor to attend it, and it truly warms my heart hearing you say that. Ever since our family reunited with you and Alfredo, it’s felt much bigger and cozier. I’ve got two daughters, Luna and you. I wouldn’t miss your dress fitting or wedding for the world.” They begin to hug again. Near one of the walls close to the living room, there’s Simón who couldn’t help but smile while spying on them. It makes him feel ecstatic knowing that Ámbar does feel like she has a family now and is not alone, not ever again.
Matteo’s Concert
All of Matteo’s fans begin to huddle up near the pit of the stage. Everyone is beyond excited to hear his collaboration with Viviana on stage for the very first time. Luna enters with Nina. Nina stays holding Luna’s arm, trying not to get dragged away by the crowd of people nearby. “So Luna, how have you been feeling about the whole thing?” Luna turns towards Nina and says, “A little conflicted not going to lie, but I’m here to support Matteo. I’m still a little bit upset at what he did calling me jealous and standing me up on our date, but I think I’ve put it past us. Today is a special day for him and I shall be here for that.” Nina nods in response.
Gastón rushes over to Matteo backstage. “Everything okay amigo?” Matteo picks up his guitar and nervously answers, “Yes. Once Viviana and I stop singing, you turn off the lights and have only the spotlight facing me. Just like old times when I had sang to her Alla Voy. I will sing this song I wrote for her, and it shall feel like we’re the only ones in the room. This night shall be perfect for her.” Gastón approaches him and smiles while patting him on the back. “Don’t worry you got this!”
The crowd starts chanting when the lights turn on as Viviana and Matteo approach the stage. They begin singing into their mics, Viviana doesn’t stop staring at him while Matteo’s eyes are fixated on Luna. He is in awe of how beautiful she looks tonight, even though he feels like Luna looks beautiful all the time.
Luna starts dancing along to the song with Nina, they don’t stop giggling and having a great time. Viviana starts noticing who Matteo can’t keep his eyes off of. She grows green with envy. She never liked Luna and was always hoping he would break up with her. She tries to get really close to him, even at times trying to have a sharing mic moment. Viviana throughout the song doesn’t stop making eye contact with Matteo and keeping him close. When she sees that this doesn’t Luna, or him she reacts quickly. Once the song ends, Viviana standing next to Matteo grabs his neck towards her and kisses him. She has her hand caress his cheek. The fans are screaming with excitement.
As for Luna, she’s speechless. It feels like the world has stopped and she has lost track of her surroundings. When Matteo pushes Viviana off him, he turns and sees Luna running out of the venue crying.
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libsterslobsters · 4 years ago
Text
I'm Gonna Crawl: Post 1
(Divided because of length)
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Post 2
Summary: Five years. That's how long the reader and Bucky have been apart (although for him, it was only five minutes) Now with Thanos defeated and both of them taking up the mantle of Avengers, can their relationship return to what it was? Or will they have to discover a new normal?
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! super-soldier! Reader (Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)
Warnings: Angst, fluff, language
Author's note: Tumblr is being a poo-poo head and won't let me post the whole fic because it's too long, so this is a two parter.
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The text comes when she’s in the middle of teaching English feminine and masculine pronouns. Immediately, she knows it’s something important. There’s a very limited amount of people she’s allowed to filter through the “do not disturb” status she sets her phone in while she’s in the classroom. Her first though is Barnes, but at this point, he’s memorized her schedule even more thoroughly than she has, so it’s unlikely he’s responsible for the disturbance. Pepper, maybe? But no, she’s a powerful enough woman that if she needed anything, she could simply ask and it would be hers. Peter? It’s within normal high school hours, so if he’s messaging her, she’ll give him a lecture next time she sees him for texting in class. That only leaves one person, or rather, organization. As she instructs her students to come up with a few examples of common words which can be said different ways to demonstrate masculine and feminine, then takes a moment to check her phone, her suspicions are confirmed. Rhodes. The Avengers.
“You guys keep working. That’s an example of an English masculine. Now what would the feminine be?” A chorus of ‘gals’ follows her out the door. Once she’s rounded the corner, she dials the number, completely skipping the texting process. The line only rings once before Rhodey answers.
“Hello?”
“Soothsayer. What is it?”
“You need to come in. We’ve got a mission, and it has to be you.” She lets out a silent groan before asking,
“How much time have I got to square things away at work?”
“Wheel’s up in ninety minutes. You need to be here at least fifteen before to read over your orders.” Her boss isn’t going to be happy, but it’s doable.
“Right. I think I just got a crippling migraine. I’ll call you back later.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.”
“You’re damn right.” She mutters it as the line goes dead.
Thirty minutes later, she’s on her way after giving the sub her notes and her boss a bullshit excuse. So far, no one’s worked out that she’s one of the people who fought in the battle against Thanos, and she hopes to keep it that way.
She speeds across the city, driving a little faster than is responsible, but her reflexes are fast enough to cover for it. If this is going to be the sort of mission where they need her brawn as well as her brains, she’d like a few minutes to warm up before she has to hop on a quinjet. Grabbing her go-bag (complete with weapons, her suit, and a set of spare cosmetics), she jumps out of the car as soon as it’s parked in front of the newly rebuilt Avengers compound. Warm up, and make a call to-
“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” She turns her head towards the voice, catching sight of Sam and-
“What’d you tell them? Stomach flu?” Barnes. Okay, maybe she won’t have to call him after all, but that brings up more questions than answers.
“Migraine.” She falls into step next to him while Sam rushes on ahead. “They called you too, huh?”
He nods, grimacing. “Looks like it’s something big.” Obviously. If they’ve called in both him and Sam, not just one or the other, then it’s a guarantee the situation is FUBAR. Plus her? She’s usually in the background. If she’s being pulled then-
“You alright?” She nods, smiling with more confidence than she feels.
“Yeah. Just wish I knew what we were getting into. If they want both unstable super soldiers-” It’s a joke, which thankfully, he gets.
“Then the situation must be pretty hairy.” That’s putting it lightly. They’ve never been called up together before. Never.
If the mounting evidence weren’t enough to clue her in that this is going to be major, the final factor would be, after Rhodes explains to all three of them that with the return of so many people to Earth, a former dictator who disappeared in the snap has gathered up his forces and is attempting to usurp a now-peaceful democracy in hopes of using the territory to levy compliance from surrounding nations. Usually that wouldn’t be their thing, but when the words “dirty bomb” and “gamma radiation” are brought into play, it’s no mystery as to why they’re being called in.
It’s about what she expected. Falcon is running point, Winter Soldier is the man on the grassy knoll (she shudders when Rhodey goes with that particular descriptor because of a confession several years back just after he woke up in Wakanda; “I really hope I’m remembering this wrong and it was just a dream, but I think I was behind what happened to the president.”), and she’s on evac and rescue, making sure there’s as few civilian casualties as possible. However, when the briefing is called to a close, it’s a total shock that Sam is let go while she and Barnes are told to stay back.
Rhodes sits at the edge of his desk, arms crossed, wearing his most serious expression. “You two have completed the appropriate training hours together, correct?”
“Yes.” They say it at the same time, and she has to bite her cheek to keep from yelling out, “Jinx!” It was a requirement after the defeat of Thanos that the two of them specifically learn how to work together as a team, play off of each other’s strengths, just in case something truly catastrophic happened. She also trained with Bucky and Sam as their third. What she’s wondering is, why ask a question Rhodes clearly knows the answer to? He’s the one who set up the training, after all.
“And you’re comfortable working as a squad?” She catches Bucky’s eye, and it’s clear that he’s come to the same conclusion as her: this isn’t what Rhodey is really after.
“We’re fully capable, yes.” He’s the one that answers, while she reaches out into the unknown, hoping for a vision. No dice.
With a sigh, Rhodey stands.
“What I mean is, can you be objective out there on the battlefield? Can you work together like anyone else?” This time, she’s the one to speak up.
“Can we be objective? Yes. Can we work together like anyone else? No, but that was your goal with the training program.”
“You wouldn’t have called the two of us up if you didn’t need what we can do together.”
For a moment, she feels sympathy for Rhodes. The poor man is clearly struggling to make a point. That’s when it hits her, a vision of what he’s prepared for them to do. As soon as it passes, she kicks Barnes’ chair leg lightly, which is enough that he gets the message.
“Just say it, because she’s already seen it.” She wouldn’t want to be in Rhodes’ position for the world right now with the news he’s about to deliver.
“Fine.” Rhodey nods. “If we get in a tight spot, someone is going to have to draw fire. It can’t be Barnes for obvious reasons.” Part of their mission is to obtain stolen scientific data located deep inside enemy lines. She’s smaller and therefore faster, can fit into tight places more easily, but he’s been trained to go unnoticed, and what’s more, to incapacitate anyone who sees more than they should. It’s an obvious choice. She’s in essence the diversion, the boy crying wolf while the real thief makes off with the shepherds’ wallets. Her size and speed will work to her advantage, as well as the fact that they won’t recognize her, so they won’t know right away that she’s the decoy, whereas the second they have eyes on him or Sam, they’ll know to batten down the hatches.
She doesn’t have to look beside her to know what he thinks of that idea. She can practically feel him seething. But, it’s a scenario that, along with Sam, they’ve trained for.
“What I need to know is that, once the bullets start flying, you won’t fall back on instinct and run to protect each other. Out there, you are not a couple. You’re teammates, fellow soldiers, nothing more. Got it?”
She keeps her eyes focused on Rhodey’s face as she nods, otherwise hers will show what she’s feeling. “Agreed.”
“Barnes?” There’s a pause, so long she’s about to kick his chair leg again just to get a reaction.
“Understood.”
“Good.” Rhodes’ posture immediately changes. “Now, suit up. Quinjet is leaving at 1300 hours.”
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“Oh!” Bucky looks up from the building schematics he’s studying at the surprised noise from the woman next to him. “This one’s actually not bad.”
“Which one?” He leans towards her, scanning the house listing on her phone. “Nah. I don’t like the look of that roof.”
“True, but it says here they’re willing to knock some off the asking price if we’re willing to do our own repairs-”
A groan issues from the other side of the jet.
“Are you two really searching realtor.com while we’re on our way to save the world?” Sam asks, scowling.
“No, of course not.” She shakes her head, smirking. “It’s zillow.” That reminds him-
“Scroll down. Let’s see when it was built.” It looks like… ah. “Hard no. That thing’s older than me.”
“And like you, it has character.” It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. He sees an opening, and he’s going for it.
“Did you just compare me to a house?” She snickers.
“Now that you mention it, there are some similarities. Good bones, had some renovations done, could use some landscaping-”
“You know, you could’ve just said ditch the beard.”
She gasps, clutching a hand to her chest. “I would never!”
“Alright, I’m gonna stop you there.” Sam holds up a hand. “If you’re gonna talk about his hair anywhere below the neck, I’m gonna open up the hatch and jump out.” It would be a more effective threat if he wasn’t already wearing his wings.
“Mind out of the gutter, Sam.” She half-heartedly scolds before returning to examine her phone. “The market is just shit right now but there’s got to be something listed that’s less expensive than renting an apartment in the middle of Brooklyn…” That’s what all of this is about, really. After the snap (at least from what he’s read) the price of renting was lower than it had been since the fifties. Now that everything is back to normal, everyone and their mother is looking for a place to rent. Not that he can blame them. He’s one of the returned, after all.
“I guess we could move into the complex once it’s repaired. Just for a little while-”
“Nope.” Sam cuts them off. “Hell no. It’s enough that I gotta deal with you and Judge Dredd here being all domestic on missions. If I have to hear you two going at it, I’m gonna lose my shit.”
He may not understand the pop culture reference, but he caught the sexual one. The truth is, they haven’t slept together since he returned. It’s not like things have been platonic; they shower together, cuddle, and make out like teenagers walking down lovers’ lane. However, five years is a long time (even if for him, it was barely more than an instant), and while he’s ready to resume their sex life, he’s not going to push in case she’s not there yet.
Before he can go too far down that rabbit hole, the intercom crackles to life and their pilot announces that it’s time for the drop. He’s not a huge fan of parachuting (falling to his near death and losing an arm sort of took the magic out for him), but he calls on what remains of his training now that HYDRA’s brainwashing has been deactivated and puts on an emotionless front.
“Com links on.” As Sam speaks, he activates his own com. “Everyone getting a signal?” He is, and if the face she just made is anything to judge from so is she. “Okay. I drop first, then on my mark, Winter Soldier drops; five seconds later, Soothsayer follows. Copy?”
“Copy.”
“Copy.”
Sam shoots them a grin that doesn’t completely hide his nerves. “Good luck.”
As soon as his partner’s exited the plane, he catches her eye. “Love you. See you on the other side.”
“Love you. Come back in one piece.”
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Even before Sam hits the ground, he knows it’s going to be a shit show. Even though he doesn’t activate his com to tell them as much, it’s obvious as the super soldier plummets past him that his chute didn’t open. Sam might worry about this if it weren’t for the fact he saw Steve jump out of many a plane without anything to keep him from free falling. Their tag-along, however? She has activated her coms (either that or she forgot to deactivate them) and she lets out a gasp. That’s all, a gasp, but it’s enough to put Sam on edge. This is why coupling up is dangerous in this line of work. Your affection can work to your disadvantage.
Because he can’t have his team scattered, worrying about each other, he asks, “Barnes, do you copy?”
“Copy, Falcon. Don’t think I’ll be doing that again.”
“Oh, you are so getting shit for that when we get home.” He rolls his eyes.
“Let’s cut the chitchat. We have a mission. On my mark, Soothsayer heads into the encampment to lead any P.O.W.s and civilians away. Copy?”
“Copy.”
“Copy.”
He lands just before she does, and as soon as she’s detached her shoot, he gives her the go ahead.
Any thought that they might have succeeded in having the element of surprise on their side goes out the window when a shot whizzes past his head.
“Barnes, cover me.”
“Copy.”
Even with the rain of bullets from his own personal sniper, he barely gets past the first defensive line in one piece. He takes out at least a dozen hostiles, incapacitating when he can, eliminating where he must. Just outside the main fortress, he asks,
“Come in, Winter Soldier. How many hostiles between you and my position?”
“Eighteen.” A muffled shot follows the statement. “Seventeen.”
“Alright. Clear a path. Let’s show these sons of bitches what they get when they threaten innocent lives.”
He thinks that maybe they’ll be able to turn it around when they find their human target fairly easily and are able to capture and incapacitate. The orders, however, were not just to bring him in alive but also to seize the assets they’ve lost before a bomb squad and team of radiation specialists comes in and sweep the place. The only way he’ll be able to get their target back to the jet unharmed (not to mention survive himself) is if they do the one thing he was hoping it wouldn’t come to.
“Soothsayer, this is Falcon. Come in. Over.”
“Copy, Falcon.”
“Winter Soldier is going in. Deploy “big bad wolf” initiative.” In other words, go get shot at while at the same time covering me.
“Copy. Be advised, there are hostages in the building. I repeat, hostages in the building. Over.” For a moment he wonders if she saw it in a vision or if one of the people she’s just helped escaped has started talking out of gratitude, but pushes it to the side. He has biggest issues.
“Winter Soldier, Soothsayer, get into place. On my signal, we move.”
“Copy.”
“Copy.”
“Three… two… one… go!”
Sam kicks off into the air, thanking whoever the hell out there invented this tech that he doesn’t have to fly with an extra 250 pounds of dictator in his arms (Redwing is handling that). Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Soothsayer making a run for it, shooting as she goes. Where the hell did she get the gun? Problems for later.
He’s just about to radio into the jet to see if the ‘package’ was delivered when the shots turn in his direction. He returns fire at the same time a dagger flies past his head.
“Throw it a little closer next time Soothsayer. I dare you.” It’s muttered under his breath.
“So you wanted a sniper’s bullet in your back?” Damned super hearing.
“Aren’t you supposed to be causing a distraction?”
“I am. Close your eyes and cover your ears.” He complies just in time for the flashbang to go off over his head.
“Fuck! You could’ve told me that’s what you were doing!” There’s no reply. “Soothsayer?” A grunt followed by the sound of impact comes over the com.
“Little busy. Hold up.” Hand to hand, if he had to venture a guess. More shots are fired, and he flies lower, returning them, kicking a few assailants in the head as he goes.
“Winter Soldier, this is Falcon. Come in.”
“I read you.”
“Do you have eyes on the target?”
“Almost there. There’s a few more obstacles than we thought.”
“Copy. Over and-” He doesn’t get to finish the sentence as a yell of “Get down!” pierces the night.
It all happens in slow motion. He reaches for the shield, but he can already hear the gun discharge. A force runs into him, knocking him to the ground. Realization hits him: it’s her. He doesn’t see the bullet impact, but he hears her cry out. On instinct, he covers both of their vital organs with the shield, and that’s when he sees the splotch of red blooming from her right shoulder, which so happens to have acted as a human barrier, blocking what would have most assuredly have been a kill shot to the head for him.
“Falcon, Soothsayer, come-” There’s a muffled shout over the com, followed by more sickening thuds and a few shots.
“Barnes?” He hears a whisper of movement from behind him, and without looking, fires. “Barnes, do you copy?” As he speaks, several hostiles gang up on him at once. Using the shield to it’s full advantage, he knocks two off their feet, kicks another in the gonads, then chin, and punches two more’s lights out. He starts on the one that’s left, but out of nowhere, the hostile’s legs go out from under him. What-
“This is Barnes. I have the target. Moving hostages out now.”
Sam opens his mouth to speak again, but a tug at his ankle draws his attention. She’s sitting up, features drawn in pain and still bleeding, her fist bloody from the last hostile’s face.
“Don’t tell Barnes.”
Internally groaning, he speaks again. “Copy. Meet us back at the ship. Over and out.” Grabbing her good arm, he hauls her to her feet and drapes her body over his shoulder. “Pretty sure the blood’s gonna tip him off. And the bullet hole.”
___________________________________________________________________________________
“It’s not that bad.” This has to be the tenth time she’s repeated that sentiment in the past five minutes since arriving back at the quinjet, and yet it’s still not making an impression. As she stands yet again, Sam gives her good shoulder a hard push.
“Sit your serum-ed up ass down. You’re gonna bleed out if-” She narrows her eyes at the man with the shield. “Fine. You’re still dripping blood everywhere.” Yeah, well, it’s not like it hit a major vein or artery. She saw it coming, after all. Still… it fucking hurts.
“Shouldn’t you be hailing Barnes again?”
“Who’s in charge here? You or me?” She thinks about snapping back with something truly brutal, but bites her tongue. “Only thing you should be worrying about is how we’re gonna get that slug out of you.”
“Give me a pair of pliers and I’ll do it myself.”
“The hell you will.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! It’s-” Before she can repeat herself again, the door opens. Her breath seizes in her throat a she takes in Barnes’ appearance. Dear God.
“Target acquired?” Sam nods and motions towards the back of the plane.
“What about you? Package secure?” With a thump, a black bag is dropped onto the floor between them. Sam opens his mouth (more than likely to make a sarcastic remark about being careful with the brain child of at least a dozen scientists worldwide), but before he can-
“You’re hit.” He’s in front of her, crossing the narrow space in just two strides.
Biting back a wince, she stares pointedly at the oozing bullet wound in his thigh. “So are you.”
“It’s nothing.” She’s about to call bullshit (that’s a fuck ton of blood, and also she doesn’t remember that cut on his forehead last time she saw him), but he turns away, fixing Sam with a hard stare. “Why didn’t you say we had a man down?”
“Not a man-” She starts.
“And technically, she never went completely down. Plus-” She knows what he’s going to say, and mouths a silent ‘Don’t’, which Sam ignores. “-she told me not to.” There it is. She’s never gonna hear the end of this.
Returning his gaze to her, he asks, “You told him-”
“It wasn’t a big deal. Can we talk about this later?”
“I second that.” Sam nods. “Preferably when you’re not both about to bleed out in the air.” Bucky’s lips twitch momentarily, and she barely contains her own smirk. They’re not about to bleed out. Still-
“You want to go first with the pliers, or do you want me to?”
“For the last time, no one is using pliers to go spelunking for bullets. Aren’t you two supposed to be smart?” She raises an eyebrow in Bucky’s direction, and he smirks.
“Technically, I think the serum just turned us into better soldiers. Not geniuses.”
“Right, and since it would take us what?” She glances at her phone, checking the time. “Five hours to get home? More than likely we would’ve already started to heal pretty significantly around the bullet and would have to disrupt that so they could dig them out.”
“So, pliers.” She nods.
“Pliers.”
With a groan, Sam stands and, digging around in the compartment overhead, produces a first aid kit.
“Fine, but if either of you starts to hemorrhage, don’t come crying to me.”
Rolling her eyes at his retreating back, she asks, “The question still stands. You want to be the surgeon first or the patient?”
“That depends.” Bucky motions to her own bullet wound. “Is that as bad as it looks, or worse?”
She attempts a shrug, but the motion makes her wince. “It’s just a scratch.” The look on his face tells her he’s not convinced.
“Then I guess I’ll dig yours out first. If push comes to shove, I can fix myself up.” This time, she’s with Sam. The hell he will. She’ll just power through.
“Alright.” She motions to the few members of the TACK team still hanging around. “If you don’t want to see me shirtless, I’d suggest you find somewhere else to be, or at least look away.” Shockingly few heads turn at her words. “Okay smart-asses. What I mean is give a lady some privacy and avert your eyes.” There. That’s more like it.
She’s kinda pissed off that she’ll have to junk the suit. It was a new one. Even more infuriating is that when she goes to unzip it, thanks to her injured shoulder she can’t manage it, and what’s worse, she lets out a groan of pain.
“Easy. Let me help.” If they were alone, she’d make an off-colored joke (something along the lines of “any excuse to get me undressed”), but she swallows it down and grits her teeth as the material tugs at her wound. She’s just going to have to toughen up and rip it off like a band-aide.
“I think there’s a water bottle somewhere, so we could soak-” Bracing herself, she gives the material a sharp tug, completely exposing herself. “-or you could just do it the hard way.”
“After all these years, why would I start doing things the easy way now?” She feels more than hears the short intake of breath that signals a laugh.
“Good point. Hold tight while I check the kit.” Taking advantage of the brief lull, she closes her eyes. She’s not exactly squeamish, but there’s something about seeing a bullet lodged in her shoulder that’s somewhat unsettling. “Alright. This is gonna sting, and then it’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” That one earns her an actual snicker.
Sure enough, it does sting. That is, if by “sting” you meant “feels like I scrubbed myself with a sandpaper washcloth and then rinsed off with vodka.” Still, she manages to keep still and wipe any expression of pain from her face as the disinfectant is poured on, completely soaking her.
“Sorry.” She shakes her head.
“Nothing a towel won’t take care of.”
He’s in front of her now, so she opens her eyes, concentrating hard on his face so she won’t look down.
“You alright?” It’s completely false, but she pastes on a smile.
“Splendid. Thinking of taking this up as a hobby, actually.” He frowns.
“You couldn’t just take up embroidery like a normal person?”
“No one-” Her breath catches as he starts to probe for the bullet. It was a distraction. “-takes up embroidery as a hobby anymore.” Deep breaths. She needs to take deep breaths.
“Shit.” Shit? That’s not comforting. “Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”
“Dealer’s choice.”
“Good news, it’s in one piece. Bad news-” He looks up, holding her gaze. “It’s lodged pretty far in there, Doll.” Of course it is. Just her luck. “Do you want to wait ‘til we get home, or-”
“Just do it.” Once more, she closes her eyes. “Sooner we get it out, sooner the super soldier mojo can do it’s thing.”
“You sure?” She nods.
“Just do me a favor. Don’t tell me when you start pulling it out. I don’t want to know.”
It’s silent, no one saying a word. Still, she clings to the little sounds she can make out in order to keep herself occupied. The engine running. The air filtration system. Her own jagged breaths and his measured ones. Despite her attempts at distraction, she can feel it the moment he starts easing the bullet out of her shoulder. On instinct her body seizes up, and she has to force herself to relax each muscle. It’ll only be more painful if she’s tense.
“Do you want something to squeeze? Maybe a hand to hold?”
Taking a slow, deep breath, she answers.
“That depends. How much do you like that arm?” If she takes out the pain on anything else, she’s almost certain she’d crush it.
“I’m sort of attached to it, so-” She chuckles, and that’s when the bullet slides free. “And, next time you make fun of my corny jokes, I get to remind you of this.”
The patching up process is simple from there. The bleeding is easily staunched and although it’s in an awkward place, they manage to bandage her without much trouble. She’s so nervous, she expects her hands to shake as she takes her turn and, with her good arm, digs the bullet out of Barnes (his is in fragments but luckily, a vision hits and shows her the shards�� locations), but surprisingly, her hands are steady. She glances up at his face just as she pulls the last shard out, but of course, he’s shut down, completely expressionless.
Finally, the quinjet touches down outside of what used to be the Avengers’ compound. Normally they would disembark, then head straight off to a debriefing, but under the circumstances, Sam calls it a night and tells them to get some rest, then come in tomorrow to go over mission reports. As they watch Falcon climb into his car and drive away, it hits her how terribly exhausted she really is. Between her bum shoulder and his bum leg, neither of them is really fit to drive home, so-
“Think we can get a cab this time of night?” Great minds think alike, it seems.
“I don’t know, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
It’s only once they’re home safely and she’s climbed into bed that she allows herself to wonder if they’re ever going to talk about today.
32 notes · View notes
musedblues · 4 years ago
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Send My Love
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summary: Eugene misses home. You miss him. But there's a lot neither of you can say.
a/n: Here's an angsty bit of nonsense I word vomited out of the blue for no reason at all- besides the fact I love Eugene. Plus I sort of owe this to @joemazzmatazz​ for hooking me up with The Pacific and for also just being the angel that she is!
w/c: 5k
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
He couldn't burden you with his darkness. He couldn't tell you that he hadn't caught a wink of sleep in three nights straight. He dared not tell you whose blood was on his hands, if he even managed to figure out who it'd belonged to. Or how he'd become fearful of lingering silence. His chest would fill with lead as seconds crept by in the twilight and even the blowing of the wind pricked his ears as he waited for the next big bang. He couldn't even tell you he missed you. Because all the other throat constricting truths were tangled in that one simple fact. He missed the warmth of your bed. The smile on your face on a breezy Sunday drive. He missed never knowing what he was missing out on, before.
I love you. Now that, he could say. Actually, he said it all the time. He said it when he admired his only worn photo of you near candle light. He said it when he thought of you, as all his friends and enemies cries pierced so loudly it deafened him.
I love you. He thought, hours after sending you another letter, as he dug his nails into the dirt of a foreign land. He thought only of how dearly he loved you because even the mud he crawled through wasn't enough to ground him. Not when the dirt clouded his already blurred vision.
///
"I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I-"
You let the new letter fall against your writing desk as your eyes scanned the page. It was chock full of those same three words without punctuation. His writing was sloppy, almost careless. But he'd taken the time to scribe the sentence in repetition, so you knew his heart was in the right place.
But the word's meaning didn't leave a long enough effect on your heart before worry swallowed you whole. He loved you, and you knew it. But a whole page full of the declaration felt tragic. Like a warning. Not at all what it should have felt like.
You bit your lip as you pulled your own stationery in some kind of sudden hurry. The quicker I write this the better. You though. But the thought caught you off guard. You'd never thought it before.
"Dear Gene,"
No sooner than your pen hit the paper did a knock come across your bedroom door.
"Come finish dinner before your father and I have to leave to beat the snow." Your mother softly demanded, and you stood without haste. But your eyes lingered on Eugene's letter as you turned to leave.
"The mail was from Eugene, wasn't it?" Your mother grinned, stabbing her fork into a lump of mystery meat she insisted on coming over and cooking for you. The exchanges between yourself and Eugene had dwindled significantly over the while he'd been away. And quite the while it had been indeed. So when a letter finally did arrive between the collection of cobwebs in your mailbox, it was like Christmas day. Better.
"Uh-huh." You agreed, biting into some asparagus and hoping to high heavens that your voice sounded even and calm. The new letter was so sweet. So why did it leave you with such a heavy heart?
"How's Gene, then?" Your father boomed.
"He's good." You decided, keeping your gaze fixed on your dinner plate. Sure enough, your father spun into the most frightening updates of the state of your country's men. You pretended to listen, white noise flooding your ears and stealing your focus. The sinking feeling in your gut took up too much space for any more food.
Your sister changed the subject to some school girl fantasy. The boy she fancied had yet to leave the comforts of his family home. But he would likely be up and away like the rest of em' soon enough. So was it really a change of subject at all?
///
"Gene?" You called. His silhouette was shaped by a sunlit door frame. When he stepped into the room all the way, the floorboards didn't creak. But your heart did. He lifted a silent arm toward you, but you couldn't let him any closer.
"This isn't real. Don't break my heart in another world, Gene."
You shot awake from the dream with the realization that you hadn't finished writing a response to Eugene's latest letter. You couldn't be stopped from padding toward your writing desk in the black ink night.
You scribbed a hurried response that assured your lover you loved him just as much as all the times he said so on paper. You tried to keep it short, but as you kept jotting down your feelings, you couldn't stop. You took up three pages confessing how scared you were. How lonely and worried and dazed you'd become. If anyone should know your heart's murmurs, it was your Gene. So you sealed your words in an envelope and sent your lengthy letter through priority mail the next day.
///
You couldn't be sure if your letter got to where it was meant to go. Six long dreary months passed since you'd seen anything besides bills in your mailbox. The winter's snow had been melted by a warm spring. Trees blossomed and flowers too. So why were you wilting? Because you hadn't received one single bit of mail from Eugene since his page-long declaration of his love for you.
The repetitive letter laid exactly where you left it on your writing desk, something your eyes glanced over at least once a day. It had become a fixture of your scenery, and you were glad for the reminder.
Maybe Eugene knew he wouldn't be sending more letters. Maybe he filled up every blank space in his last with love, for all the times he feared he'd miss out saying so in the future.
Some days you let ideas like those get the better of you. Friends of friends would be united with their war-torn lovers. A girl dropped her grocery basket in the produce aisle to sprint into her long lost man's embrace. Another would brush past you at work to tackle her husband to the ground with all the kisses she'd saved up. You would pretend to smile for them and curse at yourself for feeling so selfishly bitter. Their love came home. And in a way, yours did too, in so many written words. You had to remind yourself that Eugene's last letter was better than nothing at all.
But soon, nothing at all was your everything. No letters, no calls, no news from anyone you'd hope would have some. Nothing. You kept Eugene's side of the bed neatly tucked in, and his clothes on his side of the closet. You ran out of shirts that smelled of him, after cuddling them all too close. Their charm might have washed off in the laundry, but they were still Eugene's.
///
You worked through the summer and went out with your friends on the weekends, if you could. When another lonely autumn started to approach, the steadily dissipating hope you'd been grasping hold of, had been lost. You'd passed the stage where everything made you sad; like frequenting Eugene's favorite shops in the city, and catching glimpses of his favorite cars on the road. You'd turn the radio down when songs he liked came on air. You'd noticed his favorite trees outside your cozy home, but wouldn't let yourself admire how they'd grown.
One afternoon you noticed the letter on your desk for the first time in a while. It'd become a part of your background, something your eyes were so used to it was almost like the letter wasn't even there. But one day, you sat down to do some mind numbing paper work; and glanced over to realize half of Eugenes scribbles had started fading from the sun that crept past your curtains day in and out.
You took the sun bleached letter into your grasp and let your eyes fall across the page. His words might have started to disappear but you didn't have to squint to know what he'd written. The patterns of each sloppily scrawled line had been burned into your brain for good, by now. But you couldn't let it go on fading. It was all you had left. So with a heavy sigh, you pulled out the box where you'd kept all the other letters, and stuck it in the very bottom of the pile. That way, if you'd ever venture to read through some of Eugene's outdated updates, the last one you received would hopefully keep some semblance of it's original form. And if the words were even harder to make out by the time you came upon them again, you'd know exactly what was missing from the washed out letter.
///
Your friends stopped asking if you were alright, because they knew you'd only answer like you always did, by pretending you were. Secretly hoping that forcing a smile on your face would make it stick till it became real, or at least natural, again. But you hadn't felt that fizzle in your chest for a long time, the one that bubbled up in the theater during a funny film, or a thrilling plot twist. You hadn't even felt a tinge of jealousy when your coworkers went on trips to spend time with their lovers distant relatives.
By Halloween, you barely felt anything at all.
Your sister begged you to come along for a night-long hallows eve celebration. You didn't know what kind of night she planned on having, but you simply weren't up for pretending to have any kind of fun. And you really didn't want to be pulled through a house of horrors or tossed a handful of sweets to tied you over till the next scary thing popped out. You'd spent too many nights scared of what might happen next. You wanted to stay in and practice your new routine of praying for a better tomorrow.
But nothing could stop the neighborhood children from knocking on your door, asking for candy. And you'd be a real monster if you didn't have any to offer. So you filled a big bowl with chocolates and spent the night marveling over kid's homemade costumes.
You spent a while chatting with little werewolves and ghouls, musing with their parents about the weather. You handed out candy as the sun went down and put a record on in between. Your home felt lonely as ever but the bustling streets were an odd comfort.
When a fireman, and a lion knocked on your door for a treat, a princess was leaving a trail of flower petals on your porch, dedicated to her role. You chuckled and watched her twirl into the crowded street, shouting about the excellent quality of the candies you were handing out. Children of all ages were floating down the block, and your neighbors were giving out sweets too, on their aptly cobweb-covered porches. For a moment you wished every day could be so full. You wished the streets were always jam packed with smiling faces. You wished the knocks on your door were always so frequent.
Among the sea of costumed kids, and parents with cameras, one figure slowly parted through the rest, making their way toward you. It was akin to an eerie vision. A sick joke. You'd had dreams like this, that never came true...
You stilled as the kids on your porch reached into your candy dish, and more came up the steps for their share. But your gaze was fixed to the person in the road.
Could it be? A lone soldier was drifting closer and closer, a familiar swath of auburn hair tousled in the warm night air. This was no costume. Suddenly, children's laughter was muddled, and the record inside your door sounded miles away. This wasn't another one of your dreams, for once- even though time seemed to slow down while your heart beat a mile a minute.
Eugene was here. Eugene was home. He was looking right at you, and when he realized you noticed him, his face relaxed into something softer, sweeter than a smile.
You dropped the dish of sweets in the doorway because you were only capable of running now. You pushed through the group of children scrambling to collect your mess of candy and bolted down the petal covered porch steps.
Eugene stopped walking through the crowd in order to brace for impact. He scooped you up in a long-awaited embrace, nearly stumbling over from the momentum you'd gained.
"Hey watch it!" Some kid cried, ringing the bell on the front of his bicycle. The crowd of comers and goers had to redirect their swarm that you'd rushed into the middle of. But you were in no state to offer up apologies for disrupting the bustle. All you knew was the feeling of Eugene's strong arms around you. That's where you belonged. You wrapped yourself around him, like if you didn't cling on for all it was worth, that he would evaporate into a fever dream you'd had once before. But then he spoke up, reminding you this was all really real.
"I missed you." Eugene's warm voice was muffled in your hair. And he meant it. He always had, of course. But now that he was back, he didn't have to miss you anymore. So he could finally say it. And it wasn't until then, that you realized he'd never said it before. You realized why, too.
You couldn't hold back your tears as you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck. If you could have focused on anything besides the reappearance of your long lost love, you would have been able to register the neighbor's chatter and the children's ongoing griping for you to get out of the middle of the road. But you just kept on crying.
So Eugene kept one arm around your middle, and pulled the pair of you steadily toward the porch steps, apologizing to the candy snatching children he maneuvered around.
By the time he shut the pair of you inside your home, the record had stopped playing and the neighborhood's collective buzz was reduced to white noise.
Eugene pulled you to the floor and held on to you all the same. He couldn't tell you he was too relieved too cry along with you. He couldn't ever find the proper words for a moment like now. So he just savored the way you adhered to him; as he held you close in the living room of your home that's carpet felt like clouds beneath him.
Your cries slowly morphed into whimpers as he smoothed back your hair and hummed in your ear. It was amazing, the way Gene sent you reeling and calmed you down all at once.
"I'm sorry." Embarrassed that you couldn't stop crying, you buried your face in Eugene's shoulder. Only then did he dare to release his comforting grasp on you.
He tugged you to face him, wiped your tears away and peppered your cheeks with soft kisses. The way he always used to do, when you were angry or exhausted. You lifted a hand to his face and relaxed into his frame in a way you'd longed to do for ages.
"It's alright. I'm just glad to know you missed me so much." Eugene admitted through a sweet chuckle as you pulled back to gaze into his eyes that were even more striking than you'd managed to remember.
"Why didn't you tell me you were comin' home?" You asked, not unhappy in the least, just curious when you recalled all this time you'd gone without hearing from him.
He couldn't tell you why he'd gone so long without sending you something. He couldn't tell you that time seemed to tick, and when it stalled, the words he could have conjured just for you were stolen away when those rare moments of respite were, too.
But he could tell you that when he was finally sent on his way, the train he'd boarded with anxious glee- broke down in the middle of no place at all. He combated another couple days of waiting to get home with the peaceful knowledge that he was headed in that direction without a doubt.
"Well, welcome back." You smiled, sitting up with your knees on either side of his legs, pulling his shoulders closer toward you for a kiss. You felt Eugene melt in your clutch as his strong arms coiled around your waist. This was just like before. But better. You could get used to this.
///
He was everything you missed. He was patient smiles as you fretted over what to wear. He was the last to ask for help with anything, but you were the first he asked, when defeated. He was around every corner with big strong arms already outstretched, eager to pull you in for a bit of reassurance, or just because he simply longed to hold you close.
And as the weather turned cold and you got used to his being home, readjusted to the way his presence brought you warm peace; you had a few other things to get used to, as well.
He still waited for the perfect time to crack jokes, when he knew they'd make you laugh hardest. They made your family laugh too. And when all the champagne bubbles and chuckles fizzed out near the end of a big dinner, so did something in Eugene's gaze. He didn't go missing his spark or the warmth that radiated from his forest toned eyes. But you noticed the shift before everyone else seemed too. You watched his focus break away before he got up from the dinner table without a word and slipped down the hall.
Your sister's boyfriend would halt mid tall tale and act as if he couldn't wait to go on telling his story without Eugene near to listen. You had to rest your hand on top of the schoolboys, when he made as if he was going to shoot up away from the table and down the hall to talk your man's ear off. The boy would cast you a curious glare, and you would shake your head as your father made a show of kicking conversation in an all new direction. Then you all sat and waited, hard as it was.
You wanted to run after Eugene too, but you knew he needed the space.You knew, when he'd found whatever he went off looking for, he'd always come back in time to help clean up with a soft smile that reminded you why you'd fallen so hard for him way back when.
So you learned to leave him be. You learned it was normal to find he'd wake up before you, now, and linger in the kitchen with a cup of tea. He'd let the drink go untouched and grow cold till you found him nodding off at the table, and offer to make him another.
When you went on walks, you watched him drift toward the nearest patch of quiet until you'd finished catching up with the women you bought fresh flowers from. When you'd finally manage to float in his direction again, he'd hold his arm out for you to take; and then greet you with some cheesy line that left you blushing, despite all your years of becoming accustomed to his sweet talk.
So you'd let Eugene go quiet. Because you knew sooner or later, he'd pull you into his lap or close to his side, where you'd spend the rest of the day dreaming of the many more you had left to waste away together.
Of course, though, some days you couldn't let him go by sulking in the sunroom one minute longer. Your heart would crack down to the wire, each hour you passed by the door to peek in on him-  slumped a little lower in his favorite old chair.
And when the day started turning to night and all that time passed without a peep reminded you too much of the quiet that crept in when he wasn't around at all- you swayed into the sunroom on a mission.
You found Eugene how you'd left him early in the afternoon, flipping the yellowed page of a book you knew he'd read a thousand times before.
"Why don't we call it a night, then?" You wondered softly, leaning against the chair and letting your hand fall to Eugene's mess of hair. His locks were mused by wrestling for a wink of sleep the night before, and his fingers today, as he fought to stay awake through his parents surprise morning visit.
He glanced up at you now, letting the book in his lap flutter to close. You knew just the method to settle his duo of restless exhaustion. So with tender encouragement, you got him up from the chair and scurried to run a bath.
His smile flickered back to life in the dim light of the washroom. The softly coloured walls and the scents of the soaps you'd always found worthy of splurging on, all combined into some kind of small luxury. You filled the tub with bubbles, and unbuttoned your man's shirt while the sky went dark.
When you ushered him to settle in the bath, you kneeled at the edge and asked Eugene if he was happy; like your efforts were a tried and true formula set to melt away every trouble. He responded by splashing a bit of warm water your way with a grin that faded, like he was exhausted by the effort to remember how to smile.
"Would be happier if I had a little company..." He swept his eyes across the vast expanses of the bath as if it were the sea that had kept you apart for too long before.
So then you joined him without discussion. He watched you ease before him, your form disappearing below the steam and bubbles. His gaze was dazzling, albeit foggy, but entirely fixated on you. His brow furrowed when you brought a hand to his face, like he'd never been treated so kindly in all his days. As you studied his expression Eugene hung his head with a deep slow breath, solidifying his unsettled nature. His long, water warmed fingers trailed up your wrist, pulling your hand between both of his to hold.
"I should have written more."
"You wrote plenty." You assured, firmly, softly. Shifting closer, trying to catch his eye.
"But I could'a done more. I went so long without-"  He looked at you just in time, before you managed to hide the flash of sadness that crossed your eyes.
"What you must have thought..." Eugene suddenly realized in a shudder, reaching up to wipe drops of water that he'd splashed to your cheeks.
"It doesn't matter what I thought." You spoke decidedly. "You're home, now." You watched Eugene watch you, the crease in his brow deeper from being so permanently furrowed, his lips curled into a small frown, still. And when you nodded, to guarantee you were simply glad to have him back in your arms again, he still wasn't settled. Eugene's eyes searched yours as his frown grew.
"You... you thought I died, didn't you?" He asked.
It wasn't so much a change of topic as it was a direct acknowledgment of the matter you'd both been dancing far around since long before his leaving. It was always a concern, always a worry. Always something morphing into an ugly, mangled, all consuming thought you'd never let come out from the very back of your mind. And as you try to hide the way Eugene's question made your heart plummet, and as you consider what to tell him without lying or adding to the sadness filling his gaze; you failed to say anything at all.
Eugene decided your silence was plenty loud enough of an answer.
And then his troubled gaze started turning to the look that flooded his expression you'd come to recognize. The look he'd get before leaving families to wonder where he'd gone at the end of dinner.
So to save for the way your silence deafened the room, and the way you still couldn't say anything, you pulled Eugene to your chest. You threaded your fingers through his mused hair and held him close, because your "doesn't matter, you're home now speech" hadn't worked this time around and it was the only one you knew how to give without breaking up.
Then, Eugene's cold breath fanned across your collarbone as he started stammering through a speech. All about how he could have done more and how he'd so carelessly broken the promise he made to take care of you even while he was away. How he'd failed you and how he hadn't done nearly enough for you, and how he'd never be able to make it right...
"I'm sorry for makin' you think I was dead but, for a while... well  I might as well have been.  But damn it you don't need to hear that kind of thing. I could have done more then and I could be doing more even now but-"
"Gene stop." You gripped his shoulders, pushing him away from your hold until your eyes met. His expression was still curious and grim, but it slowly morphed into something even more somber as your eye's pierced into his.
Eugene broke your stare to hang his head. When he started to cry, you clamored closer and wrapped around him all the same. You held him close as ever and assured he'd done enough. Assured he had nothing to be sorry for. Assured you loved him and were glad to have someone to worry so feicrly over. You held him close while he held you too.
///
And you stuck just as close after the water turned cold and you'd slipped into your night clothes, together. You held Eugene right against you as you both pretended to sleep.
When he drifted from under the covers as the sun rose, you let him clatter about the kitchen for a beat before you followed close behind. Then you both sat at the table with cups of tea and let the silence set in. Eugene's knee brushed against yours every time he snapped back from staring at one page of the newspaper for too long. You bumped your elbow into his side every time you rose your cup of tea for a sip.
And then, as often as you could get away with- without offending too many of your neighbor ladies who stopped for a chat, you let Eugene pull you along when he floated away. He'd never said much, then. But he made tiny promises to do better, for you. You'd tell him he'd already done enough, and sat with him till the quiet seemed less suffocating.
Then, one day, you checked the mail to find Eugene had left a brand new letter. It was written in careful scrawl, echoing the promises he'd always repeated, when he wasn't too burdened to say so out loud. And though it was still missing so much of everything he'd never be able to say, it was full of thanks for you. He wrote how he'd never even want to try and claw through the darkness that seemed to swallow him whole, if it wasn't for you. For your dumb jokes and your pretty hair, and the effort you made to show him how much you cared. He wrote that every little thing about you, were the only things that got him through minutes he couldn't kick the habit of counting as they passed by.
You had to slip into the darkest room of your shared flat to cry where he couldn't hear. But these tears were less bitter, much more sweet than before.
Eugene wrote more letters, when he skipped out on parties you attended. He wrote about how he wished he could have gathered up the guts to have gone along with you. He wrote how grateful he was to know you'd come home to him at the end of the night. He wrote to you when he couldn't sleep, about how sorry he was for keeping you up with worry, all the same.
Your mailbox was usually full of bills, but you weren't surprised to keep finding odd envelops from Eugene. You collected the notes in the same box you'd stored his others away in, and watched Eugene sit up a little straighter each day he'd managed to get some of those heavy thoughts off his chest, in so many words.
Between letters, his laughter came back. His conversations lasted longer. And he'd stick around to join in the chatter at the end of big dinners.
Of course, there were still nights his tears mixed with the bathwater and his cries seemed to echo from places you'd never know. You'd never ask, not directly. You'd just make a warm drink and sit with him in the silence that told you all you needed to know. He'd never tell you. Not even when his thoughts spilled over onto papers he'd leave for you to find. He'd just hold your hand a little tighter under the dinner table until your father was done rambling about his own time fighting.
For fleeting moments, you wondered what Eugene had been through. But you reigned in your imagination as soon as it threatened to keep you up at night. And you made sure to sing along to songs on the radio- even the ones you didn't like very well, theatrically enough to get Eugene to smile, and turn his blank gaze from the empty fields you drove past.
You realized the thoughts that kept him awake till dawn might always. You realized there wasn't much you could do. Sometimes, you wrote letters back, and left notes under his pillow, when sharing silence wasn't enough to ease his frown. But more often than not, you'd started to spend nights together that reminded you of the day's before everything changed. You'd take each morning in stride, next to Eugene.
You got back to some kind of normal. The war was over. Eugene was back in your arms and in your world. He was your world. And no matter how far away he seemed to drift some days, Eugene was finally home.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
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crossdressingdeath · 4 years ago
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I just legit don't understand people who say that WWX giving his golden core was selfish or done only for himself. It's an argument that can only work by relying on the element of surprise created by the sheer implausibility of it, and I don't understand how it even managed to get hold in the fandom in the first place because just what mysterious advantages WWX gained from doing this? JC not dying? JC being able to be sect leader? JC not being sad? None of it is to WWX’s direct benefit,1/6
especially compared to what he lost to make it happen or that WWX was the best candidate to be the next leader if JC found himself unable to lead the sect. Plus in the situation they were in back then, even WWX knowing about the possibility of a core transfer and doing nothing at all and just watching JC letting himself die could not be considered selfish, tragic at most, because even when you love someone, you are not obligated to sacrifice your everything for them, especially when the2/6
chances of it working were only 50% at best as guestimated by WQ. So the argument that going far and beyond his duty in that situation is what makes WWX selfish is just so, so plain stupid. The spin on this argument that WWX is selfish because he didn’t think about JC’s feelings is even stupider because WWX did nothing but think about JC’s feelings? That’s actually the whole reason he gave him his core? He had already risked his life (and WN and WQ’s) to save JC from prison, and nothing was3/6
preventing JC from going on with his life other than his feelings about the situation. Of course, JC was right to be horrified and depressed by the terrible thing that just happened to him! But it doesn’t change the fact that the only reason WWX gave his core to JC was to spare his feelings; JC’s life was in danger after the golden core loss only because JC felt that his life wasn’t worth living anymore, and WWX would never have gone through with it if JC showed even the smallest sign that4/6
he could pull through. Like the whole reason that WWX didn’t speak about his sacrifice is selflessness because he didn’t want JC to feel indebted to him or JC to feel like his achievements weren’t his (WWX very well knew that JC’s first or even tenth thought wouldn’t be about how giving his golden core would impact WWX; it’s not even me gratuitously JC-hating, it’s shown in the narrative by the contrast between JC and LWJ’s reactions, LWJ who was also “lied to” and paid a terrible price5/6
his punishment, but whose first and only worry was if WWX suffered terribly during the operation or not.) We are supposed to see that JC's accusations that WWX just wanted to play the hero as absurd and in line with JC's tendency to needing a scapegoat for his own shortcomings because WWX never tried to leverage the debt to his own or people under his protection’s gain when he could very well have and went to his death with his secret intact.6/6
I mean if you think about it, the whole reason the golden core reveal happened is because a murdered teenager already resurrected once and thought dead again was freed on a accident from the prison he was left to rot in by another dead man, resurrected as a by-product of yet another man looking to avenge his brother’s death, and then the truth came out only because JC was attacking them. If not this astonishing series of coincidences, JC would never have known whose GC he has. 7/6
My response to the “WWX was just being selfish” argument is always “Okay, what did he gain from it?” It can’t be considered selfish if he got nothing out of it, especially given everything he lost doing it. You could maybe argue that he was being selfish in ignoring JC’s wishes, but JC only wanted to die because he didn’t have a core, so WWX giving him his solves that. No one would ever have known about the transfer if a situation hadn’t arisen where WN, against WWX’s wishes, told JC about it, so WWX didn’t want to play hero. WWX didn’t reveal it to try to push JC into helping him and the Wen remnants, so he didn’t want it as a bargaining chip. What did he get out of this transfer? I’ve yet to see a single “WWX was being selfish” argument that actually explains why it was selfish beyond “Oh, he just wanted to play hero”, which as I just said doesn’t make any fucking sense because if he wanted to be the hero he would’ve revealed it.
I am convinced that when MXTX wrote the golden core transfer reveal we were supposed to recognize that JC was being ridiculous and looking for a scapegoat so that he wouldn’t have to face his own failures. Everything in that scene screams to me that JC is clearly in the wrong and that MXTX deliberately wrote it that way. I mean, he spends the entire conversation about in it the temple jumping back and forth between “how dare you upstage me” and “this is the least you owe my family”! I... genuinely have no idea how so much of the fanbase became convinced of something that’s so obviously untrue.
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orangeoctopi7 · 4 years ago
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I’m looking at all the Journal entries Dipper made about McGucket before Ford came back for Fic Reasons and I’m noticing something interesting.
There are two full entries on McGucket, one dealing with how he built the Gobblewonker, and one written after they take down the Society of the Blind Eye, plus a brief mention of him building the Gideon bot in between. It’s very interesting to look at these entries from the perspective of Stanford going back and reading these entries for the first time.
This got long so it’s all under the cut.
The Gobblewonker 
“The cast on his arm had a strange hum coming from inside. He’s a genius when it comes to robotics. Could he have a robot forearm? Is he slowly turning himself into a robot???”
I could see Ford’s reaction being something along the lines of “I wouldn’t put it past him”
“Totally wall-eyed yet he always seems to be staring at me. Very uncomfortable.”
I’m not sure what causes wall-eyed-ness but I think this might make Ford concerned for his friend’s health.
“Never wears shoes. He calls them ‘foot prisons.’”
I would not be surprised if Fiddleford wasn’t fond of shoes even before the sanity slippage. Some people just prefer to be barefoot and considering he grew up poor on a hog farm, I wouldn’t be surprised if any shoes at all were considered Sunday Best when McGucket was growing up. So I don’t think this tidbit would be surprising to Ford.
“I swear that every time I look at him, the gold tooth has moved to a different part of his mouth.”
Again, I think this would make Ford concerned about McGucket’s health more than anything else.
“Not sure what the bandage on his beard is all about. But when I reach for it, he starts to growl like a small dog.”
This is the first really clear indication of Fiddleford’s sanity slippage in Dipper’s entries, but when taken in conjunction with the next entry, I wonder if Ford maybe thought his friend was putting on an act.
“There’s definitely something suspicious about this dude, but I can’t tell if he knows more than he lets on or LESS than he lets on. I wonder if the Author ever had to deal with strange locals like this guy.”
Considering Dipper’s speculation that McGucket knows more than he lets on, I feel like that’s a line of thought Ford would latch onto. It would be easier to believe his friend was just pretending to be crazy, probably to protect the secrets he knew, than to accept that no, your friend didn’t just get better once you left, he continued down the path he’d already started on and got much much worse.
The Gideon-Bot
“McGucket built it. I guess he’ll invent stuff for anyone who will hang out with him. Still can’t tell if he’s a good guy or a bad guy.”
Obviously, I don’t think Ford would be surprised by McGucket building a giant mech. What I do find interesting is Dipper’s comment of McGucket inventing things specifically to get people to hang out with him. Now we don’t know a lot about McGucket’s child/teenaged years. He may have been an unpopular outcast because of his intelligence, but we don’t know. But we DO know that Ford was an unpopular outcast, and there are codes in the Journal where he specifically says that he’s building the portal, not just to bring about an incredible scientific discovery, but also to get people to like him. So I think Ford would really relate to his poor friend in this instance.
(PS I was totally in the same boat as Dipper on not knowing if McGucket was a good guy or a bad guy before SotBE)
A Break in the Case
“We uncovered and defeated the Society of the Blind Eye and we owe our success to Old Man McGucket. Remember the guy I thought was just a lunatic hillbilly back during our Gobblewonker adventure? Turns out that “crazy” ol man has a heart of gold and saved our minds!
But more important, McGucket used to be a brilliant scientist- specifically, the one who worked with the Author! The ‘F’ the Author referred to was Fiddleford McGucket, and he could be the key to unravelling the big mysteries in Gravity Falls!!!
IF he can get his mind and memories back. There are encouraging signs- although he still does seem to like talking to racoons. Mabel and I have hope. And we were glad to have made a new friend.”
I imagine Ford would have mixed feelings about this one. On the one hand, seeing his friend called ‘lunatic’ and ‘crazy’ would be difficult, not to mention Dipper saying McGucket WAS a brilliant scientist, PAST TENSE. It kinda drives home how much McGucket had lost his mind. But on the other hand, it’s clear that Fiddleford is still a kind-hearted and caring individual who saved the kids’ lives, and they have hope that he is recovering what he’d lost, and they became friends.
Anyway, I thought that this was interesting and maybe some of you out there will too.
(PS Dipper never mentions that McGucket lives in the dump. NOT ONCE! I imagine that would be quite the surprise once it comes up in conversation. “Now that I’ve bought that big fancy house, I’m gonna have to move all my stuff outta the dump!” “I’m sorry out of the WHERE?”)
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canyouhearthelight · 5 years ago
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The Miys, Ch. 90
The more chapters I post, the weirder that number feels. I swear.
“Have a good night, Grandma Kim,” I smiled from the door and waved as she and Lyric made their way into the stream of foot traffic in the corridor.  Conor had just come home from work, so I had the obligatory two people to keep any eye on me for the night.  Turned out that my mandatory escorts were not only for travelling to and from anywhere - and locking the door to my quarters wasn’t considered enough, either, since “Too many people have permission to just walk in,” as Xiomara pointed out.
When I turned around, both men were already seated at the table, a small and tidy dinner of roast, boiled potatoes, and salad waiting. “No GK?” Conor frowned, pointing at a fourth place setting.
“She said she had to get to another appointment,” I explained.  With a groan, he reached down.  To my surprise, he picked a fifth place setting off the floor.  “Wait, you set a plate for Lyric? You don’t even do that for Mac!”
 Jokingly, he shook a finger at me. “That cat’s a damned menace,” he grumbled. “Besides, we all know Mac eats from whatever and whoever’s plate he wants. He doesn’t need his own.”
 Maverick just smiled at his back as the taller man put the plates and silverware away. “Says the person who always saves an entire serving of everything for the ‘damned menace,’ as you put it.”
“He likes my plate better.” With a wink and playful grin, he sat down and started slicing the roast.
Smiling lightly, Maverick brushed his hair out of his face and turned to me. “Stuff better between you and Tyche?” 
Stabbing a potato, I shrugged before wobbling my hand a bit. “Kind of?  We’re still working through a game of Twenty Thousand Questions, but we aren’t mad at each other anymore.  So there’s that.” 
“You’ve been in a noticeably better mood, at least.”
I scowled as he set some salad on my plate. “I haven’t had five minutes to myself since the incident with Charly.  That’s going to make anyone cranky.”
“You didn’t help when you put that bloke flat on his back, love,” Conor chided gently. “One slice or two?”
Eyeballing how thick he cut them, I thought for a second. “One, for right now? With gravy?”
“What heathen doesn’t put gravy on roast?” was the scoffed answer.
Maverick’s head snapped up, half a slice of meat hanging out of his mouth. “Ee guy ah even eh own eye ussoom gayey.”
“Babe, please cut the rest of that up before you choke…” I begged, looking away.  The military had done horrible things to his table manners, but at least he kept them isolated to ‘private’ meals.  “On the topic of Tyche, we fence twice a week while Arthur scowls at us or Coffee pretends to ignore us and read a book. I ask her questions, and she whallops me when I guess wrong.” 
“And why is your sainted best friend scowling at you?” Conor stabbed half a potato and shoved it in his mouth, staring at my skeptically.
I stabbed my own potato before cutting it carefully in half. “He may prefer saber.”
“Ehrr oaf.”
“Maverick,” I sighed without looking over. “I am begging you…” A snort of laughter forced me to surrender and turn towards him. “You shit.”
He was sticking his tongue out at me, mouth clearly empty. After I stared long enough, he lost his composure and started laughing, squeezing my upper arm with one hand. “I’m sorry, Sophia.  I’ll stop, I swear.”  Briefly managing a serious face, he ran a hand down and then across his chest. “Cross my heart.”
“King’s X,” Conor corrected.
All I could do is roll my eyes. “It’s the same thing…”
“Still tense, huh?”
“A little,” I admitted softly.  I usually would be laughing and joking with them - who could you be gross and ridiculous around, if not your loved ones? - but I just couldn’t right then. “I think being watched all the time is making me feel watched all the time.  Like I always have to have my public face on.”
Conor hummed, rubbing the arm facing him. “Maybe we can think of something to let you have a bit of time to yourself.”
“We could have the sensors monitor you, have one of Miys specifically keeping a watch on that?”
I shook my head. “That’s literally how I met you, remember? Someone destroyed the navigation sensors, and hacked the monitoring ones in order to destroy the replacement parts.  Xiomara will never agree.”
“Damn it,” Maverick swore softly. “We can at least leave the room?”
Dropping my fork, I threw my hands in the air. “And go where? It’s not like you can leave our quarters.”
“She’s right.  And we can’t even go in the bedroom and leave her out here… If we aren’t in the same room with her, we have to be in one closer to the exit.” Conor pointed over his shoulder with a fork before using it to dig into his salad. “Meaning she can be in the bathroom or bedroom alone.”
“At which point I may as well be a prisoner.”   My frustration was vented against my slice of roast, and I absolutely did not cut it more aggressively than strictly necessary.
With a wince, Maverick slowly lowered his hands from where they had been covering his ears. His eyes darted to the knife that was now laying beside my plate, clearly trying to figure out how to take it away from me. “More potatoes?”
Clearly discretion was the better part of valor in his case.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, prodding the lumps of formerly-roast on my plate.
“We’re going to get through this, Sophie, I promise.”  Conor stood, but rather than trying to approach me, he stepped into the kitchen.  When he returned, he had a plate of soft rolls.  Tearing one in half, he started scooping the massacred remains of my dinner onto it before handing it to me. “There. All better.”
I gave him a watery smile as he set it on my plate.  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a grumpy bitch lately,” I whispered.  Glancing up, I could see them exchanging puzzled looks.  “Oh come on, don’t pretend I’ve been an angel. Just last week, you two left me and Tyche here, with strict orders to sort our shit out.”
“If you didn’t get grouchy when things are out of your control, you wouldn’t be Sophia,” Maverick pointed out generously.  “Besides, it’s not like you threw anything.”
“Or broke shit.”
“I still owe you both an apology,” I argued. “Just because I’m out of my comfort zone, that doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to snap and snarl at you two.”
Conor snapped his fingers several times. “Dinner.  At the Undine. You, your sister, Charly… Maybe don’t get drunk this time, but a night out, yeah?  People who would be there anyway, just like we’re usually the ones with you at night. Whatcha say?”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t think Xio is going to approve that. Both of us in one place, for starters. Plus somewhere that crowded?  Security would be a nightmare.”
“What about camping? Charly keeps mentioning at work that she’s dying to go camping.”
This time, it was Maverick’s turn to be confused. “Where?” he gestured around us. “We’re on a space ship.  Where can we go camping?”
“BioLab2,” came the answer. “It goes into night mode from mid Beta-shift to the start of Alpha. That’s fifteen hours of night time.  We’d have to get special permission, since folks aren’t usually allowed in there at ‘night’, but given the circumstances, I think Grey could be convinced to try it out.  See how the nocturnal species in the lab react to their schedule being interrupted.”
“You seriously want me to go camping?” I asked skeptically.
“Hey, I love to go camping!” He looked comically offended.  Glancing at Maverick, he raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“Never been, but I can give it a shot,” was the mild reply.  In the bottom of my field of vision, a hand snaked over and snagged the sort-of stuffed bun from my plate.  I didn’t even stop him, just waited for the inevitable.  Sure enough, less than a minute later, he started sputtering. “Oh, that is disgusting!”
Conor tsked at him, shaking his head. “Love, you saw me put her poor roast on the bap. You knew it had gravy on it.”
“But you put the mushrooms on the bread, too!?”
“I did it for the lady, who likes mushroom gravy.”  Heaving a sigh, he stood up, went back into the kitchen, and returned with a small carafe of something. Prying apart another roll, he gently tucked a slice of roast inside, before pouring the contents of the carafe - plain, brown gravy, as it turned out - both beneath and on top of the meat. “You have to have something or it’s too dry,” he explained, handing it to Maverick, who surrendered mine back into my own custody.
I took a bite of mine, and gave a little hum of delight. It reminded me of being in school and stuffing mashed potatoes with gravy and thin sliced mystery meat into a yeast roll to make the meat edible, only much better.  Gesturing to Maverick’s own sandwich emphatically, I waited.
Unlike his enthusiasm for stolen food, he stared his own bun down suspiciously before taking a very ginger bite.  Chewing carefully for a moment, he furrowed his face in thought before finally making a similarly happy noise and taking a larger bite.  Covering his mouth with one hand, he gave his verdict. “Dis iss guh!”
Conor and I both rolled our eyes, landing on each other’s face. “You’d think the boy never had chipped beef on toast. Or a French dip sammy,” Conor scoffed as he made his own.
It took everything I had not to dissolve into laughter as I watched my beautiful roast dinner be turned into schoolyard sandwiches.  But sometimes, that’s what you need, I reminded myself as I took another bite. Kids have the right idea.
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officiallynuts · 4 years ago
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A/N: Hi there! It’s been so long since I’ve written anything, like really written anything. and so I’m going to pop in with a little fanfic for you guys. So I’m going to start this off with a little fic of Elu from Skam France! (Yes, I know, cliche ship to start with but I would be more than happy to do the others as well if anyone would like me to! Even the friendships too! Or when my own inspiration strikes. Anyway, enough rambling, sorry). So I hope you guys enjoy! 
(Note: I do not own the characters. All credit goes to the creators and showrunners of Skam France) 
Word Count: 2,888.
Dark. Never-ending darkness. Reaching out all around him. All-consuming, gripping hold of his heart. Tightly, squeezing, never letting go. No release for the wicked. He couldn't breathe, couldn't feel, could barely move. All he felt was cold. Cold as everything was a slush, moving slowly as if he were underwater. No sense of what was up, nor down, he had no choice but to go forward. But there was a force pushing him back, it made him grow weak. Tired, too tired to move anymore. And so he floated. Arms held out beside him, hair floating up as he felt himself sink. Lower and lower, as his visioned blurred. He felt his last breath escape through his lips in a bubble, rippling away as he felt too weak to reach for it. Too weak to do anything but close his eyes one last time.
Hands. Hands were the first thing he felt. And soon they were all around him, sliding around his chest in a strong grip, pushing against him till he had no choice but to open his eyes, his mouth opening in surprise, feeling the gasp engulf him as water rushed through his turning blue lips. Blue was all he saw when his vision cleared, blue, maybe gray as well, eyes and brown hair that glowed like caramel as a light shone behind his savior. Closer the light came, till he was suddenly able to spit out the water he collected. Gasping for air, he let the hands led him to shore. Where his panicking friends were yelling out his name.
"Lucas! Merlin, are you okay?!" Worried voices called out as more arms helped pull him out of the water and to the soft grass. The drowning boy, Lucas, feeling as blue as his own eyes and scarf that felt like was strangling him, only coughed in response as he shivered harshly. He could barely speak, barely move. Even as everyone longed for him to say something, anything, to show that he was already. But he wasn't. Lucas was entranced in shock.
"The scarf." A rough, new yet familiar, voice spoke calmly. Possibly the only calm one there; Lucas appreciated that for a moment. Only a split moment, as he found a distraction. The body of his savior kneeling in front of him, hands reaching for his neck. Slowly, as if not to startle the shivering boy, he unraveled the scarf around his neck and laid it aside. "Lucas.. you're okay now. Can you breathe?"
Breathe, right, he could do that, Lucas thought to himself as he felt another wave of shaking cold rush through him. Closing his eyes, he tried to push through everything and focus. Focus... fo-
"Focus, Lucas," The voice continued as if he could read the other's mind. There you go, you're doing great. So great, Lucas. Yann, get me my wand, it's in my robes." His voice took on a demanding turn, still as soft but left no room for argument.
"W-wha..." Lucas was able to rasp out as he felt his breath coming back to him. He watched with wide eyes as his savior took the wand that was held out to him, then proceeded to wave it over Lucas's body slowly with murmurs of spells. Gasping out, Lucas felt his clothes dry as well as heat rushing back to him. He could feel the heat rushing to his face, turning his cheeks a slight pink. Feeling warm all over, like he was never in a cold, black, lake in the first place.
"There we go." His savior spoke softly, again, as he set his wand aside, his hand reaching out to hold Lucas by his cheek. "How are you feeling?"
"Better..." Lucas breathed out, sighing as he slowly pushed himself in a sitting up position. "What happened?" He frowned, looking from blue/gray eyes to the eyes of his friends standing around with freaked out eyes.
"The idiot-"  Arthur started, pushing up his falling glasses as he sighed with a shake of his head.
"Hey!"
"Got excited when he saw a certain blonde-haired Hufflepuff and tried to impress her with a spell, only to have it backfire as always." He continued as if he wasn't interrupted, sending a look to the one who yelled out. Basile, who was frowning at the other.
"You were walking towards the Lake, we were supposed to meet for a study session, and you walked right into the spell. Sent you flying." Imane, the only one who probably took their studies as seriously as he did, pipped in as she knelt to look him over. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Imane. Really. Don't feel like frostbite so that's a plus." Lucas shook his head, grateful for his friend's concern as he rested a hand on her shoulder for a moment.
"Speaking of which," his last friend, and maybe best friend out of them all, Yann, spoke as he turned to the boy who had saved him. "We have Demaury to thank for that. Seriously, man. You reacted faster than any of us. How did you even know it was going to happen?"
Demaury. Lucas knew the name. And the face. He was two years older, a Slytherin that came in the middle of the year mysteriously. He was quiet, kept to himself, but was one of the friendliest around. And maybe most beautiful, too, Lucas thought to himself. Everyone loved him, wanted to know him. Even Lucas did, secretly. But he could never suck up the courage to speak to him. Someone as... entrancing as Eliott Demaury was, didn't become friends with boys like simple Lucas.
"Oh." Eliott coughed as he shifted in a more comfortable sitting position. "I was drawing when I heard Basile yelling out his spell. Saw Lucas walking, put two together and... yeah. Here we are." He shrugged almost sheepishly, almost shy like as he turned his head. Like he wanted to avoid everyone looking at him. But his eyes met a certain set of blue, Lucas's.
"Well, still. Thank you for saving our Lulu! We'd be lost without him." Basile cut in with a wide smile on his face, only to frown again when Arthur reached to hit his arm.
"No thanks to you! Come on, you owe Lucas an apology dinner. And to explain to the professors why he won't be in class for the day." Arthur didn't give him a chance to deny the request, turning the curly hair boy around and away from the crowd. Back to the castle.
"What? I'm not?" Lucas frowned, watching his two friends leave before looking to the others.
"Are you kidding? Lu, you nearly drowned! Take the day. Imane will fight off any angry teachers." Yann scolded lightly, patting him on the shoulder as he turned his body to leave as well. "I'll see you at dinner, yeah?" Waiting for the nod of approval from Lucas, Yann looked from him to the last boy of the crowd, Eliott, then back at him to wiggle his eyebrows once before walking away.
"Feel better, Lallemant. I need you in top shape for the potions assignment next week." Imane talked as if she was demanding, but Lucas didn't feel threatened. He knew better. He could see the soft, relieved, look in her eyes as she stood up and left.
"She secretly likes me, I promise." Lucas let himself joke, to break the silence that seemed to take over once there were two left. He turned to the other and almost felt his breath leave him once again. Eliott was looking at him, staring at him. So close, so intensely, he felt like someone was casting the heat charm on him all over again. "So, um.."
"You scared me." Eliott started, not once looking away. Like the thought of taking his eyes off the boy physically hurt him. "Seeing you fly into the water like that... I didn't think I was going to reach you in time."
"But you did." Lucas put in, straightening his back to watch him. "You saved me, Eliott... Thank you. Seriously." He whispered by the end, his eyes wide as he felt the gratitude rush all over him. There he was, Eliott Demuary, saving Lucas Lallemant even though the two never met before. Never before now.
"I only wish I had gotten there earlier, save you the trouble from almost drowning. Before you hit the water, if I had run faster, or cast a levitation spell, or-" Excuse me, what? Was he seriously trying to blame himself right now?
"Eliott, no. Stop." Lucas shook his head slowly. "You couldn't have gotten there in time, I'm sure. Diving after me in the water... was probably the safest way. Who knew what spell would react to Bas's. It could have made things worse." Lucas felt himself wanting to reach out, to reassure the other. But he kept his hands to himself. He didn't deserve to touch.
"Still I-"
"Saved my life, thanks to your quick thinking," Lucas butted in before he could finish speaking. "I wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for you. Thank you, Eliott. Take it." He spoke strongly, not giving any room for a rebuttal as he moved to stand up. Eliott stuttered as he scrambled to stand up, taking Lucas's arm to help him. Just in case he would fall. If Lucas was shocked by his actions, which he was, then he didn't show it.
"I'm not sure you should be standing right now.." Eliott frowned, looking down at the boy. Which was something else, their height difference. Lucas knew he was shorter than others, and usually, he hated it. Still did. But having to look up at Eliott, who still had that glowing light behind him, he found that he didn't mind as much.
"Probably not. Which is why I should get to my dorm, to lay down." Lucas informed with a small smile, shaking his head. "I could use a nap after the near-death experience. And I'm sure you have a class you should go to."
"I can skip it." Eliott put in quickly, shaking his head as he took a small step to him. "Let me walk you back. Just to be sure."
"I.." Lucas bit his lip, licking them once, before shaking his head. Now that the shock was running down, back came the wall. Lucas could feel himself closing in, could feel everything coming back. So used to admiring Eliott from afar. But now he was so close he could just reach out and touch him if he wanted. But Lucas couldn't. He didn't have the right. They didn't know each other.
"Please." Eliott gave it one last try, sounding like he was practically begging the other. For what, Lucas didn't know. More time with him? He wished. But that couldn't be it.
"Alright." Lucas finally caved, letting himself smile a little when Eliott shot him a blinding grin. Biting his lip, he let the older gather their things, handing everything back to Lucas. All but the Ravenclaw scarf, Eliott rolled it up before putting it into his own bag. Saying he knew of a spell that would never let it get wet or something like that. He didn't know, Lucas still felt a little dazed by everything.  But after gathering their things, together they started their journey back to the castle.
The walk back was quiet, mostly. Lucas could feel himself getting awkward, not knowing what to say. But he also kept stealing glances at the other. If this was a once in a lifetime experience for him, being so close to Eliott, then he didn't want to miss a moment. He wanted to cherish it while it lasted.
Eliott, on the other hand, was secretly waiting for the other to speak. Come on, Lucas, what does it have to take to get you to talk to me like you do with your friends, he thought to himself, shooting the other silent looks. He, himself, didn't want the time to end. He wanted it to stretch on forever if he could make it. But as it always seemed to happen, time went by fast. Too fast. The portrait leading to the Ravenclaw common room was right up ahead, coming closer into view. The painting watching the two students come to it, no doubt waiting to speak the perfect riddle for them to answer.
"Well, this is me." Lucas cleared his throat, coming to a stop. He turned to Eliott, once again having to tilt his head up to look at him. "Thank you for walking me back, though you didn't have too."
Eliott, letting out a soft, almost disbelieved laugh, shook his head as he stepped forward. He reached up, taking a strand of Lucas's hair and brushed it back. "It was my pleasure, Lucas. Thank you for letting me." He spoke softly, letting his voice drop into a whisper. Like he was sharing a secret for just the two of them. "I'll see you around, yeah?"
"Yeah.." Lucas whispered, his eyes had fallen shut the moment Elliot touched his hair. But the snapped open when he heard the latter take steps away. If he was going to leave, Lucas needed to at least watch him go. If this was going to be the last that they saw each other, despite the promise just made, then he wanted to memorize everything about the moment.
"Good." Eliott smiled at him, still taking small steps backward, not wanting to look away as he left the younger boy standing there. But he soon came to a point where he had to turn around. But as he did, he was stopped by a voice calling his name.
"Eliott." Lucas started, pressing his lips together with a small frown as he waited for him to turn back. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, ever since he came to his senses. Ever since he realized who saved him, and that they knew him. Everyone knew Eliott, everyone always knew the new kids. But how did he know him? "How did you know my name?" He finally asked, letting out a breath as if the question hurt him to say out loud. He probably sounded crazy. Merlin, he probably scared him off now.
"Lucas Lallemant. 6th year Ravenclaw. Bluest eyes I have ever seen in my life," Eliott started with a small laugh. The silly boy. How could he not know? He could he not see before? "You were the first I saw when I accidentally bumped into you in the hall on the way to the Great Hall. You were with your friends, so you didn't see me. But I saw you. I only saw you. And since then, you are all I can think about. Drove Imane insane until I got her to cave, telling me your name."
Lucas was speechless after that, not knowing what to say. His lips fell open slightly to show his surprise, watching as Eliott gave him a soft smile and laugh.
"I'll be seeing you, Lucas. Have a good nap." Sparing him from what Eliott could guess would be a stuttering mess if the flush to his cheeks was any indication. He gave the boy a wave before finally leaving, walking away down the hall.
Slowly, Lucas started to smile to himself and turned, walking to the painting of a bronze eagle waiting for him. Answering the riddle after a second thought, Lucas walked through the opening portrait, and the next thing he knew Lucas was in his bed. He felt like he was in a trance, replying the day, the encounter, over and over in his head. Not believing any of it, but the missing blue scarf was the only indication that it was real.
If it wasn't the scarf, it was the warmth that enclosed around him. Where Eliott had touched him before, from inside the water, to his cheek, to his arms, everywhere. He never felt so warm before. It was mind-blowing and soothing. And cold, as the reminder that he wasn't near the other, made him feel cold all over again.
"Oh.. I'm in trouble," Lucas whispered to himself with a sigh, already feeling his heartbeat a little faster the more he thought of the Slytherin. While he was used to that reaction, it was different now. He had the sound of a voice to go with the mental image of him, and a feeling of touch to go along with. It made his heart race faster than before. That alone scared him, almost terrified him, how affected he was by the first meeting.
"Okay.. okay. Breathe. You need to get some sleep. Calm down." Lucas continued to whisper, sighing as he shifted. Moving to lay on his side, he closed his eyes. It took some time, Lucas never did fall asleep easily. His mind was always racing. Thought after thought. Daydream to nightmare, whatever it may be, sleep was hard for him to come under. And a nap was no different, only this time his mind only had one thing in mind. Blue/gray eyes. Eyes so intense, they somehow lulled the boy into a slow sleep. And soon, Lucas was out. Dreaming of his savior, saving him even in his sleep.
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ameliyaahn3 · 4 years ago
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Hi, I just found you blog! May I request a romantic matchup for One Punch Man and Knb please? I am a straight female, I am 16 and I am an ISTJ. I am creative, a little shy, unique, funny, smart, sly, sensitive, confident, a little ambitious and mysterious to some ppl. I am a Pisces and I am a 5w6. People usually say that I look really mean and avoid talking to me😔😭.
My love language is quality time and words of affirmation. I really like making art, purple, competing in track and field, winter time, eating, alone time, cooking/baking, Thai boba tea and tamales! I dislike loud ppl and ppl who assume stuff about me. My appearance is 5’5ish, brown skin, brown almond eyes, hair is usually an Afro or braids, slim built with thick thighs. I fear not knowing about my future. My life goal is to live a happy and fulfilling life and to do what makes me feel good!
A/n : Sorry for the wait time, i wasn't in a good mood theses day and I had useless homeworks to finish T-T.
One Punch Man >>>
I match you with...
Zombieman
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The chillest relationship I've ever had to write for.
Since you don't like loud peoples, you will even wish he was more talkative.
But Zombieman does show his love for you with acts of services.
Rather mysterious or mean, first time Zombieman did find you interesting :
( it happened in the OPM universe)
Unlike other normal peoples that would wait for heroes to help them, cause they're paralyzed by fear, even if it was difficult you managed to escape a monster thanks to your intelligence and good athletic abilities. and luck
But as the monster for some reason did have something against you, he reappeared under another form that let him slide on little spaces like sewer and catch up with you.
Fortunately, Zombieman came at that moment and saves you, taking one of his glock and shooting at him.
So since this day you owe him life and it was supposed to be the only string that would reliate you to him but it happened that to times to times your environnement or just you were involveld in his investigations without asking for it.
Seem like you live in Z city lol
So you two naturally just talked more despite you're shy nature or his more reserved one cause of the stupidity of the situation.
And you liked each other presence, way to be and started to frequent.
Zombieman like that you're smart –objectively I even think this a must for him - so you two can have pretty serious conversation but big plus you're funny too and it's essential.
He isn't the best to deal with your sensitivity, particulary because most of the time you show a confident facade, so sometimes his words can hurt you without that he mean it but he always make up later to you like he can.
He's admirative of your creativity and most of the time watch you making art when he's here.
Loves that you priotirize spending time with him despite that his hero schedule is very busy, also each compliments and affective words from you may make him flustered but touch him through heart.
Wasn't that much familiar with track and field competition but does want to learn more since it's a hobby of yours.
He act like he's annoyed by you when you tell him that he shouldn't smoke, it doesn't affect him for real but he's glad that you worry for his well being.
Don't like that much to eat but does drink and likes his coffee with sugar so you two can always have Starbucks dates.
He think that you have great tastes in general, he likes winter too.
Zombieman may not know of what his future is made of but with him, I think you wouldn't even have to worry about it not because he's reassuring but that you feel very at ease besides him. Also, if most of the time he has an hard time to express his feelings for you he at least make sure that you know that he want you happy.
Zombieman isn't familiar with afro culture, but find your hair very pretty!! In an afro or as braids ! Likes the shape of your eyes and the way how when the sun is retiring your skin is glowing.
Others potential matchs :
Genos.
Kuroko no basket >>>
I match you with...
Aomine Daiki
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You two probably meet at Too Gakuen, but first time wasn't that ideal despite that you are in the same class.
I am sure Aomine tried to grate on your nerves just for fun and that you tried to return him the same treatment, fortunately Momoi was here to control the situation.
But you have to admit he was quite funny and easy to talk with, the other way around Aomine, if he was honest would say that you're kind of funny too and that he likes how despite you seem confident, mysterious and ambitious you're a little bit shy.
He didn't even though of you like mean but tease you about your shyness to death. 💀
Stops if he see that you take it at heart even if it bothers him, let you know he's annoyed through.
So let him know you're annoyed about his magazines too.
Aomine is such a dumbass 💀 but he dares pretend he's smarter than you because of his lazyness that is according to him hiding is intelligence.
Always ask for your homework.
But I think that Aomine is pretty wise in secret, he likes a little bit philosophy.
He likes how you're creative and watch you making art, don't struggle one second to gives his own opinions.
But if he have to choose between you making art or you running, the second option of course despite that he may think the first one is already a pretty good hobby to have.
Beside basket, he's always here when you're competing in track and field.
Aomine in general is too lazy to be loud but when he support, he's supporting you for real.
If you consider eating and drinking as activities, know that Aomine too.
Would often ask you food for if you're a good cook, don't let him takes too much advantage of it.
Is capable to take you on date at that good restaurant that just opened in the town.
He isn't intrusive at all and let your alone time. Show his love for you with Act of services and physical touch. He isn't afraid by PDA and let everyone know you're his.
But is flustered when you talk about you loving him with concrete words since he is a lil tsundere, or that you makes efforts when he's here to only focus on him.
Your love story is magic. Just imagine that weird love-hate relation at first that become a proper friendship but then blurry few times after cause you two feels very strange about your relationship.
Pisces x Virgo = Great compatibility.
Don't even think about draging him outside during winter for a long period of time, or you will hang out with a machine that can only complain.
Plays basket-ball better when you're here, the only one who can beat him is you.
Aomine may makes fun of your height, he's the one to worship your body everyday. Thoses thights will kill him.
Also if when you have a afro your hair are shorter than when you have braids, know that he prefers shorter hair in general and that he find the texture fascinating.
Isn't the one to think a lot about his future, like Zombieman i don't even think he cares but absolutely want to do what he likes only, so would watch for your back and hapyness too.
Others potential matchs :
Murasakibara Atsushi.
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