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wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl · 4 years ago

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Hi! How are you!? Hope you're good 😁 Could I request a BuckyxFem!Reader oneshot? ❤️

A mission goes wrong. The reader and Bucky are trapped in a cell surrounded by several HYDRA agents. One of them says the keywords to activate the Winter Soldier just at the moment when Steve and Tony appear to help them, they fight against Bucky trying to make him the same again until a scream takes him out of that personality: the reader is wounded, wanting to protect him from another HYDRA agent getting in the way of the bullet. Bucky becomes him again and takes the reader in his arms to return to the quinjet.

Maybe lots of angst and fluffy ending with them confessing eachothers love at the hq?

Thank you so much!!!!!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

A/N: Hi guys! Wow it’s great to be back and free from college stress. I received this request two months ago, and again I am so sorry it took this long for me to make it, but writing academic papers had absolutely kicked my ass this past semester. This ask obviously takes place where Bucky has not been to Wakanda yet to get his trigger words removed. I hope you guys enjoy! I am a little rusty, and not sure if I should write from the first person perspective or third person perspective for Y/N fanfictions so let me know what you guys prefer. Happy Summer!

Pairings: Bucky x female!Reader

Warnings: Talks of blood, gun violence. Other than that I don’t think there is anything else.

Word Count: 2.5k

You’re My Endgame

The floor was cold. It’s not like you haven’t endured worse, but the concrete you had been resting your head on was less than inviting. Your body was rigid due to the freezing temperatures and the uncomfortable position you curled your body into. The HYDRA facility you had been captured at was in Lithuania, Bucky promised he knew it like the back of his hand. Things had changed since his work and internal torment as the Winter Soldier, something he wasn’t expecting due to lack of funds on their part. Unfortunately, no one could’ve predicted there were spies in SHIELD funneling crazy amounts of money into new buildings and updating new HYDRA facilities and weapons.

You decided to sit up and stretch your limbs. It had felt like weeks you were being held hostage, but in actuality it was only a day at most. The HYDRA agents kept you and Bucky busy with periodic torture. You’ve been kicked, punched, beaten into the ground even but neither of you talked. Bucky was more familiar with these torture treatments than anyone, but he focused all of his attention on you.

He was the first real friend you had made at the Avengers’ campus. He had trauma, you had trauma, one of the best bonding factors you had both concluded. He listened to stories of your abusive childhood, being trained by your father as his own personal assassin, and he would share whatever he was comfortable telling you. You never poked and prodded. You knew you were more open than most when it came to over sharing experiences. Talking helped some people, others not so much.

You stood up and shook out your arms and legs. Once you stopped, you assessed the bruises on each body part, counting how many had accumulated over the canvas that was your skin. 48 in total. A new record.

You looked over at Bucky to see he was lying in a similar position to you, close enough that you were in arms reach but not too close that you were uncomfortable with his touch. You were both exhausted from the continuous torture, touching was not in anyone’s best interest at this point in time.

He groaned softly, beginning to stretch his limbs out as well. Trying to turn a horrible situation into a lighter occasion (as if that were possible), you cracked a joke in Bucky’s direction.

“Good morning sunshine, I see you decided to join me for our delicious gourmet breakfast” you gestured to nothing behind you on the concrete floor.

Bucky cracked a smile “Good thing I didn’t miss it, I’m starving” he joked back. You understood each other’s humor and personality so well.

“How’re you feeling Buck? I know they did a number on you after me” you looked down at him somberly.

He shook his head “Don’t worry about me. Show me your arms and legs. I wanna see how much they hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Buck I’m fine. I can hold my own just the same as you. We are trained for these situations.”

Bucky rolled his eyes back at you. “Did I ask if you were trained? No. In fact I didn’t ask you anything at all. Show me your goddamn body Y/N”

You didn’t want to stress him out anymore, so you just knelt down in front of him and started showing him your arms. He hovered over them, careful not to touch your delicate flesh. His phase was full of confusion, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He shook his head, not even wanting to see your legs if this is what your arms looked like. He didn’t want to upset himself even more, which would in turn make you upset.

“Lay back down Y/N. You need to rest, even if it is on concrete. We can’t have your pretty self looking like that when we get back to the compound now can we?” Bucky replied, trying to lighten the mood once again. It was worth a shot.

Bucky always told you you were pretty, never really thinking anything of it. Steve or Natasha was his endgame, and you respected that. You were best friends and best friends always complimented each other like that. You definitely didn’t need to make your relationship more complicated, even if you were desperately in love with him. You would keep those feelings locked down in the deepest crevices of your brain, unwilling to share with anyone.

You smiled towards Bucky, getting ready to sit back down when you heard the door to the basement unlock. You both winced at the sound, turning to look at each other with dread in your eyes.

Please dear god no more. We can’t take anymore.

You wanted to keep Bucky safe from HYDRA’s wrath, and he wanted to do the same for you. Given the circumstances however, it was near impossible. Bucky felt helpless that he couldn’t properly protect you against their torture, only adding to his mental torment. He was in pure agony, and hearing that door again made him want to scream out to a higher power he didn’t believe in.

“Rise and shine dirtbags, we have a new surprise for you today” the first HYDRA agent said with a small smirk on his face.

You had no idea what they had in store for you today, always expecting the worst. You definitely were not prepared for what they were planning to do to you today.

“You, girl, have you ever met those they call the Winter Soldier?” the second HYDRA agent asked.

You had no idea what he was talking about, honestly thinking he was talking about Bucky. You knew he had been called the Winter Soldier in the past, but Bucky never shared much of his trauma. You didn’t know to the full extent what he was capable of, he never wanted you to know what he was capable of. In response, you nodded with a confused look on your face.

Bucky, however, knew exactly what he was talking about. His heart felt like it had dropped to his stomach, unable to prepare for what was about to happen. He started shaking his head furiously, begging softly. “Please, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything, just please don’t do this. Not with her.” You could see the pain in his eyes.

A third HYDRA agent strutted into the room, just as smug as the other two. He was holding a red book with a black star on it. You thought it was just a log of what torture they had performed on you, but it was much more sinister based off of Bucky backing up into the far corner of the room with absolute dread in his eyes. That’s when the third HYDRA agent started to speak.

“Longing, rusted, seventeen.” Your confusion only grew as the HYDRA agent spoke these words, but your confusion slowly faded as concern took over. You looked over to Bucky who was squinting his eyes as he hugged his rigid body. He was whispering “No, no god please no, please stop.”

You walked over to him gently, crouching. “Bucky? Bucky what’s wrong..”

The second HYDRA agent took the book from the third, continuing reciting the words “Daybreak, furnace, nine.” Everyone’s smile grew wider except yours and Bucky’s. He was starting to shake from fear and anger, knowing what was about to happen. Bucky screamed at you, something he had never done before in his life. “Y/N, get away from me. Just stay away!”

You were a strong woman, never faltering during a mission, especially in times of crisis, but you felt like curling up into a ball and crying. You were worried, disoriented, and even worse, you couldn't do a damn thing about it. The words kept flowing from the HYDRA agents’ mouths.

“Benign, homecoming, one” the HYDRA agents spouted in unison. Bucky was screaming in pain. You couldn't bear to look at him, tears streaming down your face as you heard his agony. This was far worse than any torture inflicted on you yet.

Then, the final word was spoken.

“Freight Car”

Bucky’s eyes shot wide open. His rigid body remained the same, only beginning to stand instead of hugging himself in the fetal position. That’s when he spoke.

“готов подчиниться”

You understood the meaning, but didn't understand what your best friend had become. That’s when an explosion behind the three HYDRA agents erupted, causing everyone to become disoriented.

Debris had been blown everywhere, dust clouding your vision and settling all around you. You didn’t see Bucky, you didn’t see the HYDRA agents. All you could see was a glow. It came from beyond where the explosion came from. You began squinting, trying to identify what was heading in your direction. That’s when you began to see flashes of the one and only “Hot Rod” red, along with the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. Although you wanted to smile at your rescue, your thoughts were all encompassed by Bucky. You hadn't known what happened to him, only knowing he was in extreme pain, now missing. You yelled out to Tony and Steve.

“Over here!! I’m over here. Do you guys see Bucky??”

That’s when you heard a shift in the rubble, only a few short feet from where you were lying. A metal arm had popped out of the ground, reminiscent of the scene in the Evil Dead.

Thank God. At least I know where he is.

You worked slowly over to where he had appeared out of the ground. You began removing the stones off of his body with vigor. You could finally see his face and somewhat of his body, calling out his name.

“Bucky? Bucky tell me if you’re hurt. Bucky please talk to me. You’re scaring me”

His expression remained blank, awaiting orders from whoever was willing to give them first.

That’s when you heard the faint commands of a fallen HYDRA agent, determined to finish his job.

“Attack”

Bucky’s reaction was immediate. He grabbed your throat with force, causing you to claw at his metal arm with what little energy you had left. Gasping and kicking your feet as he held you in the air, you tried calling out to him. This was your best friend, surely he had to recognize you. That’s when Steve threw his shield directly at Bucky’s legs, causing him to loosen his grip on your neck.

You fell to the ground coughing, your body begging for air as you inhaled so sharply you thought your chest would explode. Your coughing didn’t stop for a few seconds, only being brought back from reality when you heard the clash of vibranium on vibranium. You looked up to see Steve and Bucky fighting, Steve screaming “Buck! Buck it’s us!”

Bucky replied with angry grunts, not understanding anything but his commands. While Steve and Bucky fought, Tony was busy securing the area, taking out other HYDRA agents who had flooded the scene. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew Bucky was your top priority. You called out to him several times, hoping he would realize it was you. Your cries fell on deaf ears, however, as he continued to fight Steve with all of his might.

You quickly glanced at everything going on, that’s when you noticed a HYDRA agent Tony had missed while fending them off. He was holding a loaded pistol, directly in Steve and Bucky’s direction. Before you could truly process what was going on, you heard the gunshot go off. At this point you weren’t too far away from them, sprinting in their direction to protect them from the bullet. You launched yourself in their direction, screaming in pain as your body was pushed to it’s limits already in pain. As you fell to the ground, you barely noticed the bullet had entered your right shoulder. Figuring the pain was from landing on sharp stones, you groaned loudly.

As soon as you screamed, Bucky was ripped from his Winter Soldier persona and back into reality. However, Steve didn't see his realization, landing a punch straight to Bucky’s jaw, sending him staggering back. Both Steve and Bucky turned their attention to you, lying on the ground and bleeding everywhere. Bucky, who couldn’t care less about the fact that he just got punched in the face, moved over to your body with haste.

He looked down at you softly, covered in dirt and blood. His heart wretched in his chest, knowing all of this could’ve been avoided if he just double checked the layouts of the base before invading the building for their mission. “Y/N? Y/N sweetheart talk to me please” he said as he picked your head up gently to lay in his lap. You coughed up a little spittle of blood as you turned to look at him with tenderness in your eyes.

“Bucky? Is, is it you?”

He smiled down at you, with tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Yes sweetheart, it’s me. Just hang in there for me okay? We’re gonna get you to the quinjet. It’s gonna be okay.” You could hear the cracks in his voice as he spoke to you, but couldn't focus on it for too long. Both your vision and your hearing were starting to waver, going in and out as the chaos ensued around you.

The last words you remembered hearing before everything went back was Bucky’s voice.

“Don’t leave me now sweet girl, I need you. Please don’t go, you’re it for me.”

He continued talking, but lost consciousness as he spoke. Everything was dark.

_______________________________________________________________________

You woke up, looking at an absolutely blinding light. You squinted as you opened your eyes, not fully able to open them completely thanks to the mini sun above your head.

You began to move your limbs, realizing that someone was holding your left hand. You looked over to see Bucky, sitting with you in the quinjet infirmary, his head hung low and gentle sobs escaping his mouth.

You spoke up softly, unable to speak at a normal tone.

“Bucky?”

Bucky picked up his head, eyes puffy and red from the crying, not expecting you to be awake so soon after how much blood you had lost.

“Y/N? Oh god, oh sweetheart” he stood up and kissed your forehead, not wanting to move your body by embracing you with a hug.

You smiled up at him as he hovered above your face, taking in your beauty.

He spoke with a quiver in his voice.

“I, I thought I’d lost you. All because I was a fucking idiot who couldn't do my job before the mission, Y/N I am so sorry, I don’t, I never wanted you to see me that way. I’m so stupid, I’m-” you stopped Bucky from continuing his pity party by raising your left hand to his lips, shushing him with one finger.

You gently removed your hand and lifted your head slightly to meet his lips with yours. You both closed your eyes as your lips met, savoring how delicious you both tasted, even post mission. You deepened the kiss slightly, angling your head so you both had more access to each other’s mouths. You held the kiss for what seemed like forever, finally decided to pull away softly.

Staring into his beautiful ocean blue eyes, smiling up at him while holding the back of his head, you spoke softly “You are Bucky Barnes, and you’re my endgame.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan characters

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superhero--imagines · 4 years ago

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A/N: I liked this request so much, I’m making it into a (short) series. Maybe three/four parts. This is mostly going to be a comedy, so feel free to leave any critiques you have in the comments! If you want to be tagged for the series just lmk!

You met Nightwing first. You were a hostage during a bank robbery that had gone bad. Not that you were worried, you were sure any second now a superhero would come bursting through that door to save the day.

This is the third time this week you’ve been inconvenienced by a villain. You pull out your textbook. All these villains are really starting to get in the way of your study schedule.

If you’re going to be stuck here for a while, you might as well catch up on studying for your test. You can’t have read more than ten pages when Nightwing comes bursting down from the ceiling.

Hooray, at long last your hero has arrived.

You’re about to pack up your things and get ready to leave when you notice someone’s holding a book out to you.It’s Nightwing in all his glory, scanning the cover of you book.

He looks younger than you had thought, in fact you can even see a few dots of acne on the sides of his face. He’s so close you can smell his aftershave too.

“Gotham university? Cool! I go th-“ suddenly his mouth clamors shut. “I-I mean, it’s really good to see more woman getting a good education and developing themselves” it’s a weird compliment, especially considering women in this city tend to be more educated than men considering the Wayne Foundation’s work. But you don’t want to make a big deal out of it.

“Thanks” You take your book back and head on your way. It’s only later that night when you’re about to wind down for the night finishing the chapter you started during the bank robbery, that you notice Nightwing autographed the cover

“What does he expect me to do? Tear of the cover and frame it?” You shake your head, but you can’t help but laugh. What a funny man.

You meet Dick Grayson shortly after. Well, meet is the wrong word. You’d say it was more like Dick Grayson met you.

You always knew of him, everyone did. He’s the school’s golden boy after all. All dimpled smiles, and shiny baby blue eyes, he had a legion of women trailing after him everywhere he went.

A golden boy who, for some reason chose to sit next to you in the 10 a.m lecture course, abandoning his usual spot surrounded by his fan girls.

You usually sit in the middle, not too close, and not to far. An inconspicuous place, for a person who doesn’t want to attract too much attention.

“Woah is that Nightwing‘s autograph?” The golden boy’s grinning as he looks at your text book. You can feel the eyes bore into you. “How did you get it?”

“I was a hostage in a bank robbery” the words leave your mouth in a monotone. It’s only after you’ve said it that you realize you have most of the classes attention now.

Right, inconspicuous.

“Are you okay? That must have been pretty rough.” Another classmate asks, her names Cassie or Cassandra or something. Almond shaped eyes bore into you as you shrug.

“Stuff like that happens all the time in Gotham, it isn’t that big of a deal”

Everyone in class thinks you’re super cool after that.

“Hey (Y/N), you wanna join our study group?” It’s a few of the girls from your class, Cassandra the girl from earlier, and a blonde name Stephanie. You know her name because she’s always getting called on by the professor for not paying attention.

You’ve seen them hanging out together before, and you found yourself a little jealous of their friendship. Maybe the three of you can be friends like that too.

“Sure”

The night air is warm, it’s hard to believe it will be fall in a few more weeks.

“This humidity is crazy” Dick says rubbing his neck.

It’s even harder to believe the golden boy is walking next to you too.

When you showed up at the apartment in the nicer part of campus, you weren’t expecting to see Dick open the door. You should have realized, of course Dick’s friends with the coolest girls on your class. And of course they host their study group out of his apartment. Being Bruce Wayne’s adopted son certainly comes with it perks. His apartment was so fancy, it had a chandelier in the foyer.

Still it was kinda fun. Though honestly calling it a “study group” was going too far. It was basically ten minutes of studying and two hours of chatting. Then all of a sudden Stephanie and Cassandra wanted snacks and alcohol. Frowning as they rummaged through Dick’s kitchen only to find cereal and milk.

And that’s how you ended up here, walking side by side with the golden boy himself. You’re walking on the outskirts of campus in the nicer part of town, heading towards the convenience store.

You’re not really sure why he had to come along, probably because it isn’t safe to walk alone so late at night.

“So you met Nightwing huh?” Dick says to break the awkward silence. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. He’s weirdly obsessed with that hero.

“Yeah, why are you a fan?” You ask, you don’t miss the slight blush that forms on his face.

“Kinda yeah, what was he like?” His eyes are bright as he looks at you, the blush only creeping onto his face further. You think back, it was a brief encounter, you didn’t really think anything of it.

“He has acne” You can tell by the look on Dick’s face that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Y-yeah and what’s wrong with that? It must be from stress, and it must be hard keeping a good diet when you’re fighting crime all the time.” Dick’s flustered. He’s getting awfully defensive for a complete stranger.

Suddenly it hits you like a lightening bolt. The golden boy had a crush on Nightwing. You totally get it, all those muscles in that skin tight suit, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little turned on yourself just thinking about it. You steal another glance of his blushing face. If anyone has a chance with Nightwing it’s Dick. Who wouldn’t be weak to that smile and charm? You totally ship it.

You place a hand on his shoulder, baby blue eyes meet your own. You’re looking at him with such serious eyes, he wonders if you’re going to tell him something reassuring about acne or how Nightwing is an an amazing hero.

“I support you.” You tell him with a thumbs up.

Richard has no idea what you’re talking about, but he doesn’t want to embarrass you.

Then all at once it hits him, like a lightening bolt. (The sane lightening bolt that struck you a few minutes prior) He must have given away that he’s Nightwing! You’re really smart, he’s noticed you’re name on the dean’s list almost every semester.

But how’d you figure it out?

His hand flutters to the side of his face, fingertips brushing over the few pimples that popped up last week. You must have realized who he was since the acne spot matched the place it was on Nightwing!

He stares at the thumbs up you gave him. this must be you showing support for his vigilante activities!

He feels his eyes water slightly as he nods. He’s always known you were a gentle and kind soul. But he can’t believe you’re supportive as well, he feels himself falling even further in love with you.

“Would you mind keeping it a secret?, it’s good to know I have a friend like you to support me but not everyone does, yknow?” You nod, he’s Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. It makes sense those old-money geezers have narrow minded views on love. They probably want him to be with a nice girl from a wealthy family.

It must have been so painful for him growing up, hiding who he really was. Wishing he could just be loved the way he is, but knowing deep down that there were parts of him those people would never accept. Your heart aches for him.

“Don’t worry, just follow your dreams, I’ll keep your secret!” There’s fire in your eyes, and Dick brushes away the tears that have formed in the corner of your eyes.

The two of you board the miscommunication train without another thought, walking side by side with completely different interpretations of the conversation you just shared.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom when you get back, after heaving two large bags of snacks onto the dining room table.

Stephanie looks at Dick expectantly when she hears the bathroom door shut.

“So how’d it go? Did you guys get closer?” She practically bouncing as a smile spreads across Dick’s face.

“You know, I think we did!” He’s practically beaming, his grin so wide it almost consumes his face. Stephanie lets out a squeal and Dick laughs.

Well you two are closer now, but not for the reason he thinks.

You’re washing your hands, taking in your reflection. You’re not really sure why, but you have this feeling that school’s going to get a lot more interesting now.

#batman imagine #dc comics imagine #bruce wayne imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #dc comics #batman imagines #red hood imagine #superhero imagines #dick grayson imagines #dick gryason imagine #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #nightwing headcanon #nightwing imagine #superhero--imagines

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bunnyywritings · 4 years ago

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May I please have headcanons on how hawks and grown up!midoriya would react if their daughter turned into a villain if it's ok? Thanks!!

their daughter becoming a villain

[a/n: this is such an amazing prompt! Thank you anon 💓I’m guessing the daughter is the reader? If that’s not what you had in mind then go ahead and let me know ☺️ I tried to make it as angsty as possible, I hope you enjoy! Uhh these came out longer than I thought...sorry -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]

takami keigo

✾ he honestly had no idea you existed

✾ he was on parole one day and there was an incident

✾ he was too far to help but he saw the headlines

✾ the hero had completely disregarded the woman being held hostage and had gone for the villain

✾ this resulted in the woman being brutally murdered

✾ his stomach churned as he shut off the tv, she had looked vaguely familiar but he shrugged it off

✾ later on in the day, he got a call

✾ he had a kid...a daughter to be exact

✾ the woman he had just seen on tv was the mother, someone he had a one night stand with and forgot about

✾ so there he was, sat across from a 13 year old with his wings and her mother’s lightning, who had refused to talk to him

✾ it took a few months but you finally warmed up to him, even calling him dad/papa

✾ you had gotten accepted into UA and were very excited

✾ it wasn’t till the anniversary came up, you though you had repressed the memory but it all rushed back

✾ and as time went on, everyone saw the change

✾ you were questioning the principles of being a hero, questioning why heroes were in the right and all villains were automatically in the wrong just because they didn’t agree with the ideals of being a hero

✾ the last nail in the coffin was when you met Dabi

✾ it was completely by accident but you had recognized him and had asked him what it was like to be in the LOV

✾ he was gonna completely brush you off since he knew why your wings looked familiar but the tears in your eyes and the genuine pain in your voice tugged at his heart and he had taken you to the hide out and had somehow convinced shigaraki to hear you out

✾ he did and invited you to join...an invitation that you had greatfully accepted

✾ sneaking back into the house, you got a few things and left nothing but a feather on your pillow

✾ that was the last time your dad saw you

✾ until...

After having run away from home, you were confined to the LOV hideout for a bit because police and heroes alike were searching for you and Shigaraki didn’t want you to draw attention.

Taking a page from Dabi’s book, you bleached and dyed your hair. It was now a bright, fun color instead of the drab natural hair you had before. You quite liked it. Your wings, however, were the same maroon as before. There wasn’t much you could do about it, at least not until one day that Toga had rushed into the hideout with some pet safe dye she bough. It would effectively dye your wings without damaging them and without needing to use bleach. Whenever you looked into the mirror, you barely recognized yourself. Your hair a fiery red and wings a jet black. Dabi had even given you a few piercings per your request, your favorite was the tongue one.

“Hmm so what d’you think?” You hummed, sticking your tongue out to show the metal stud.

“Ooh (y/n)! You look so adorable!” Toga squealed in delight.

“I agree, it looks super cute!” Twice agreed before downturning his thumb. “Looks terrible! Any hero with a magnet quirk would rip it out!” You giggled and thanked him.

Dabi watched from the side, a small smile tugging at his lips. It had been a bout a year since you had joined and he had noticed that you were way happier than before. He had felt a connection with you and he couldn’t help but see you almost as a little sister. He looked out for you, made sure you were eating and sleeping well.

After you had been missing for around two years, Keigo gave up looking for you. He had lost hope of ever finding you. There was a new villain who had joined the league that he had to worry about, it didn’t seem like they were up to anything violent...just petty crime. He couldn’t help but notice that as the anniversary of your mothers’ death came up, the crimes got more and more violent. It wasn’t until he was called on the scene that he had realized why.

On that day, Shigaraki had called a meeting. You were finally going to get the chance to get justice for your mother and there was absolutely no hesitation when you had agreed to come along. You had just through you were going to go in and smack him around a bit. You definitely did and it was more than a bit, but he was still breathing when you left him a limp mess on the ground...just barely. What you hadn’t noticed was that Dabi had gone in after you and set fire to the agency, after making sure those who weren’t targets had made it out. So you were a bit surprised to see the building being engulfed by gorgeous blue flames. Dabi smirked and threw an arm around your shoulder.

“How’s it feel kid? He finally paid up.”

“Yeah, and I say good riddance.” You smirked along with him, absolutely no remorse in your voice.

“B-aby bird?” You cringed at the name. Dabi frowned as he felt you tense up. Both of you turning around to see Hawks and Endeavor. He couldn’t believe it was really you. “(Y-Y/n)...w-what did you do to y-yourself?” There was tears in his eyes as he looked you over. Watching as you rolled your eyes, reaching a gloved hand up and removing the muzzle like mask from your face.

“What do you think Keigo?” You spat, “I got justice. That disgusting excuse for a human being murdered my mother and was basically praised for it!”

“That’s still a human being...where’s his justice?” His mind was racing, trying to figure out what in the hell was going on.

“We just gave him his justice, bird-brain!” Dabi snickered from beside you.

“You’re more angry about this bastards death than my mother’s?” You stalked over to your ‘father.’ “HOW DARE YOU! My mother was INNOCENT! She was held hostage and murdered because a hero wanted to make it on the front page!” Your feathers ruffling up with your anger, lightning crackling to life around them.

“I thought-but you said you wanted to be a hero? W-what happened?”

Scoffing, you brought your finger up to your cheek and pulled down the skin under your eye, tongue sticking out and a wicked look in your eye. “Things change pops! Try and catch me if you can!” You felt Kurogiri’s warp gate ruffle your feathers and you tugged at Dabi’s coat sleeve. He threw his arm around you once again and stuck his tongue out at both pro heroes as well, Keigo took notice of the matching tongue piercings the both of you had. “I’ve got a new family, I don’t need a phony holding me back.” You winked, flapping your wings and both you and Dabi leaned back and fell into the the purple mist. While Dabi’s heart swelled with warmth at your words, Keigo’s grew cold and crumbled into little pieces. He fell to his knees, holding out both his hands to catch the stray feather that had floated down. He gently caressed it with his gloved thumb, gazing sadly at the faded black dye, the natural maroon was faint but it shone through.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Kicking himself and trying to see where everything went wrong.

He lost his baby...he wasn’t sure if he’s ever bounce back from it. Not only was it the day that your mother died but it was the day he lost you too.

pro! midoriya izuku

✰ never would he had thought that things would end up like this

✰ he had been blessed with a beautiful wife, but with a healthy set of twins

✰ a baby boy and girl

✰ however, you were both quirkless

✰ either way, you and your brother were loved and cared for

✰ you grew up idolizing both All Might and your father

✰ it wasn’t until the both of you were going to take UA entrance exam that it happened

✰ you both new that he had possessed One for All

✰ so when your brother had suddenly manifested a quirk, your heart broke

✰ Midoriya watched as tears cascaded down your cheeks, a blank look in your eyes

✰ you couldn’t believe it, he had passed it down to your brother...

✰ you withdrew your application for the hero course and applied to the General Studies course

✰ with your grades alone, you instantly got in

✰ and even as your father congratulated you, you could see the overwhelming pride in his eyes as he praised your brother for getting into the Hero Course

✰ it wasn’t until your third year that you had enough

✰ you watched your brother receive special treatment, how he flew through each semester with absolutely shit grades but he was going to take your father’s place as the symbol of hope

✰ you watched your brother become the pride and joy of the family

✰ your accomplishments never even got any attention, always being brushed off by your father who was too busy helping with your brother’s training

✰ even your mom ignored you in favor of babying your brother

✰ so you left

✰ it took them a whole three days to notice

✰ in the first week of working as what society viewed as a “villain”, you made quite the name for yourself, in your first year of working...well, let’s just say that there was a good amount of heroes on the look out for you

✰ in reality, the villains were the ones abusing their power to oppress those that lacked those insignificant quirk cells...those a re the people you got rid of

✰ you had captured a low level “hero” that had been framing innocent people for crimes they didn’t commit, all to get his name to the top of some stupid list

✰ that’s when your father saw you again

“How pathetic.” You spat, wiping the blood from your Bowie knife on your black cargo pants. The man whimpered in fear, still trying to escape his restraints. Relacing your boots, you stomped on his ankle. A sickening crack echoeing through the empty room. Tears leaked from his blindfold. “This would be so much easier if you confessed, y’know?” You chuckled manically, gazing into the camera before refocusing on the task at hand. “No? Okay then.” Shrugging, you pulled the cloth sack over his head.

You fixed the plain face mask that you had worn and made your way into the convenience store and picked up some cheap and quick things to eat before heading back to the abandoned warehouse that was working as your base for now

What you hadn’t noticed, was the person following you. They watched as you entered the building.

“Deku...I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think it’s her.” He spoke into the earpiece. “I’m going in.”

Back inside, you sighed and tossed the wrapper of your meat bun to the side. You were growing irritated. You had this man chained up for three days and he hadn’t said a word. No matter how much you cut at his skin, no matter how much you made him bleed. Growling, you went to your table of toys and grabbed a gun and reloaded the magazine. The sound of a cocking gun made the hero quiver in fear.

“Alright, I’m done playing games with you!” You pulled off the cloth hood and ripped off his blindfold. You placed the muzzle of the gun right under his chin. “Confess or pay for your sins!” His lips quivered.

You were intimidating, despite technically still being a third year. You had a mask that was similar to Shinso’s artificial vocal cords, it distorted your voice and your eyes were wide with insanity. Your outfit could be classified as tech wear. You had a harness strapped above the black long sleeve you were wearing. Multiple knives and other weapons strapped to the harnesses on your thighs.

He stayed silent, eyes glossing over with more tears as you pressed the cold metal into his skin. “OKAY! OKAY! I DID IT!” His voice cracked as a satisfied smirk played on your lips.

“What did you do, Mr. Hero?”

“I-I framed all those people. The ones in jail, people that were put on death row. They’re innocent!”

“Good to know Mr.” You giggled. “The jury finds you guilty of all accusations, Penalty: Death.” You grinned.

“WAIT-!”

A gunshot echoed through the warehouse as he fell limp in his chair. The splattering of warm blood against your skin made you shiver.

“Great, now I’m all dirty...” You sighed.

Just before anything else happened, an explosion sent you skidding across the room.

The dust clearing and your eyes widened. “Uncle Katsuki?” You asked softly.

When Bakugo saw the blood, he panicked that he had hurt you but then he noticed the body that had fallen to the ground. Gun still in your hand. Anger bubbled in his chest.

“YOU DAMN IDIOT!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU-“ Before he could finish his reprimands, Shoto ran in.

“Uncle Shoto...” The fog in your head cleared as memories of simpler times flooded your brain. The days where you’d get spoiled by Uncle Katsuki and Shoto before they had their own kids. The comfort they offered you before you ran off.

Shoto took advantage of your distraction and slowly approached you. “(Y/n)...sweetheart I need you to put the gun down okay? You’re safe now.” The look in your eyes was too familiar. It was the way his mother’s eyes looked when he first saw her in the hospital. Broken, lost, terrified. He knew you weren’t in your right mind. Hope filled both him and Katsuki as your trembling hand held the gun out to him. Of course, that was until-

“(Y/N)!!” You flinched, snapping out of your docile state. Eyes hardening once more as you kicked away form Todoroki’s knelt form. Seeing your father filled you with absolute rage.

Midoriya froze, eyes running over the scene. Realization setting in as he saw the gun clutched in your hand.

“D-did you do that?” He asked, eyes glossy.

“And what about it?” You giggled. “Why do you care all of a sudden? HUH? DAD? WHY NOW?!”

“You’re a murderer (y/n)...a villain.”

“Better than being a phony and pathetic hero! I’M NOT IN IT FOR THE MONEY!” You growled, cocking the gun and pointing it at Midoriya. “But he was. He’s had dozens of people locked away for life, people sent to the electric chair for things they didn’t do...all because he wanted to be in the top 10.” You shrugged, biting your lip coyly. “He’s the real villain here, not me.”

Midoriya clenched his fists, holding in his tears. It felt like his heart was violently being ripped from his chest. “I thought I raised you better. How do you think your mom feels? Or grandma? Your own brother-“

“Uhm, news flash! This is all your fault! Plus, I couldn’t care less about my degenerate of a brother!” That’s what made Shoto and Katsuki realize what happened. “WHY?! WHY HIM?!” They were all caught off guard by the tears that drenched your cheeks. “I worked hard and did my best...but that wasn’t enough for you! He was failing all his studies but NOBODY CARED! He was your successor and that was enough! I got a B on my final exam and all you did was give me a lecture about the importance of studying...HE FAILED! HE GOT AN F AND ALL YOU SAID WAS TO TRY HARDER NEXT TIME!”

The tears finally escaped Midoriya’s eyes. ‘Did he really do that to you?’ ‘Had he been such a terrible father that it drove you to this?’

“HOW WAS A QUIRKLESS DISSAPOINTMENT LIKE ME SUPPOSED TO COMPETE WITH THE GREAT DEKU’S SUCCESSOR?! YOU BASICALLY SET ME UP FOR FAILURE!” The tears were streaming down your face but instead of sobs leaving your lips, they were replaced by deranged giggles. “It’s okay Papa...don’t feel bad. It’ll all end soon.” No one noticed when you pulled the pin from the sphere in your hand. Not until the flash bang went off and everyone turned to shield their eyes.

Once they regained their senses, you were far gone. Leaving behind empty meat bun wrappers and several cassettes taped with confessions of those that you had ruled guilty. He screamed. It was so gutteral that it hadn’t sounded human. His body filled with dread and anguish.

“I’m sorry (y-y/n)...I never meant to-“ A choked sob interrupted his whispers. Then another...then another. Both Katsuki and Shoto watched helplessly as their friend completely broke down. Their hearts heavy as well. The little girl they watched grow up was gone.

“I lost her...she’s gone.”

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱(open) : @ohbois-biggay-bnha @yuiji-yuiji

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku x reader #pro hero midoriya #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #anon ask #anon request

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lokiarsene · 5 years ago

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2/2 Discussion With Maruki - ENG. translation.

MAJOR PERSONA 5 ROYAL SPOILERS. Please do not read if you don’t want to know about Maruki, Ren, and Goro’s conversation regarding the dream reality in the third semester.

Note: I alternate between using reality and paradise for three reasons. 1: It’s pretty clear to me that Maruki thinks he’s made a paradise for people to never suffer; 2: constantly saying reality was getting annoying, and 3: the final area where you fight Maruki is even called Eden.

Maruki: Sorry for the sudden intrusion. … How is Yoshizawa-san doing? I’m worried that she will find this reality difficult to accept.

Ren: Answer #1: She’s fine. Answer #2: Sumire’s strong.

Maruki: Is that so…? That’s good.

Maruki: I must ask one last time, to be absolutely clear: do we really have to fight?

Ren: Answer #1: … Answer #2: I can’t accept this reality.

Maruki: From your point of view, this world that I made may seem distorted.. But it’s a world where everyone can be happy… As long as they’re here… No one will have to suffer having something taken from them ever again!

Ren: Answer #1: Have you suffered too, Maruki? Answer #2: Was something “taken” from you, too?

Maruki: …! So, you saw Rumi. No, I haven’t suffered. It was my fiancee… Rumi. However, she was actually taken away by happiness, and is here in this “distorted paradise” that you and your friends cannot appreciate.

Mona: But… that means your fiancee forgot all about you. Are you really okay with that?

Maruki: She lives happily enough without me. And besides, this isn’t just about Rumi… I also want you and your friends to be at peace, too. (lit., want you guys to smile). And in order to create your happiness, I had to take matters into my own hands and do it myself (lit., In order to self-grow that happiness, I have to move forward). … And she can’t be involved with that.

Mona: Maruki…

Maruki: I won’t change my mind (lit., my opinion will not change). A number of different chances fell into place to give me this power. But what’s done is done; it was inevitable, and I can’t do anything about it. But I will bring happiness to everyone in this paradise I’ve made.

Maruki: … And yet, Amamiya-kun… how can you be so certain of your decision? (lit., how can you say you are not hesitating? The verb here can also mean “to give in to temptation,” which has very appropriate Garden of Eden thematic resonance.)

Ren: Answer #1: What do you mean? Answer #2: What are you trying to say?

Maruki: Or should I say that to you.. and one other person? Are you there, Akechi-kun?

(Goro walks into Leblanc.)

Mona: You–!

Goro: … So you noticed me.

Maruki: Yes.

Maruki: What I want to say now isn’t just for you, Amamiya-kun. Akechi-kun also has something to do with it.

Ren: Answer #1: How is Akechi involved? Answer #2: Me and Akechi?

Goro: …

Mona: What do the two of them have to do with it?

Maruki: The relationship you two have is truly incredible. A detective and a phantom thief… Despite being rivals, it is a relationship you both hold dear. (lit., Even if it is hostile, it is a different relationship that you value. Alternatively: you don’t hate each other.)

Maruki: That’s why I was so sorry for you both when I learned about Shido’s Palace.

(Flashback to cognitive!Akechi and Goro facing off behind the shutters in the Palace.)

Maruki: Amamiya-kun… You regretted what happened, didn’t you? You couldn’t save Akechi, the boy with whom you had such a deep connection... And that is why I created this paradise where you two could start over and be together again. (lit., That’s why I made a reality that you could start over in with him.)

(Flashback to Goro asking Ren to promise to take down Shido, and Ren responding.)

Mona: If that’s true, then the Akechi from our original reality is...

Maruki: … Do you understand now? I didn’t want to tell you the truth, as I thought it might seem like I was holding Akechi hostage. And no matter what you think of me, I want you both to have this paradise.

Goro: … So, what? You told us the truth, and now you expect us to surrender our lives? (Note: Goro’s speech has changed from his softer, more polite way of speaking. He’s very harsh and blunt.)

Ren: Answer #1: Did you know about this? Answer #2: When did you figure it out?

Goro: I have no evidence. But after we fought… I didn’t remember anything clearly until I met you again. And then of course, there’s the issue of Isshiki Wakaba and Okumura. I'm not an idiot; I know there’s something wrong here.

Maruki: … I see. I assumed that if I told Akechi-kun about this reality, he would not waver from his opinion. What about you, Amamiya-kun? Do you also want to “surrender your life,” as Akechi-kun has said? If that’s how you see it, that’s fine with me. But I must ask again: will you accept this reality I’ve made?

Maruki: You are the one who shined light on my research, and gave me the power necessary to create this world. I thank you for that, and I have no regrets. I hope you understand that. I don’t think it’s fair of me to expect an answer of you right away. I will leave for now.

(Maruki stands up to leave.)

Ren: Answer #1: Take this. Answer #2: Don’t forget this.

(Ren throws the calling card on the table. Maruki picks it up and reads it.)

Maruki: Ah, yes. Message received.

(Maruki’s threat meter reaches 100%)

Maruki: I’ve said all that I had to say. As promised, tomorrow I will wait for you at the Palace. I’ll see you then… as long as you don’t change your mind. If, however, you don’t show up, then I will assume you have accepted this reality. Take care.

(Maruki leaves Leblanc.)

Mona: … So what do we do now?

Goro: … I want to talk to Amamiya.

Mona: Akechi… All right, I understand. (To Ren) Please tell me later what you decide to do.

(Mona leaves. Goro and Ren stand up and face each other.)

Goro: … I’m the one to decide my own path. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life living like a pet in a world made by someone else.

Ren: Answer #1: Is that okay with you? Answer #2: But, Akechi... You...

Goro: So what? You should fight Maruki, just as you planned. Or are you the sort of person who bows down to someone else’s will over a little thing like this?

Ren: Answer #1: It’s not a “little thing.” Answer #2: Don’t say it like that. Answer #3: I will not give in.

Goro’s Answer to #1: That’s exactly what it is! Do you think I’d be happy with you feeling sorry for me? I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need that kind of hesitation!

Goro: Your hesitation... is like a betrayal to me.

Goro: …Tell me. What do you want to do?

Ren: (If we fight Maruki and get rid of him, we can go back to our original reality. But Akechi…)

Goro: Don’t make me wait. Answer me.

Ren: Answer #1: I’ll fight Maruki. Answer #2: I’ll live in Maruki’s paradise.

Goro’s Answer to #2: ... Are you serious?

Ren: Answer #1: No. Answer #2: ... I’m serious.

Goro’s Answer to #2: So that’s your answer. I have nothing more to say to you. The deal’s off.

Ren: (Is this the right thing to do?)

Goro’s Answer to #1: Good. That’s a relief. I refuse to accept this reality; I’m sick of being controlled. (lit., I’ve had enough of dancing along to someone else. He’s referring to what the cognition of himself said in Shido’s Palace, as being a puppet who dances at Shido’s command.)

Goro: Let’s go home, to our reality.

(Loki and Robin Hood fuse to form Hereward.)

Goro: Yes, this is perfect! Nothing can stop me now! (lit., I’ll rampage as much as I can)

(Goro turns away from Ren.)

Goro: It’s not worth living in a narcissist’s paradise (lit., It’s not worth living in a reality of self-satisfaction). We’ll win this, together.

—

So.

1: MARUKI IS A SHIPPER ON DECK

2: The problem with this reality is 1: they can’t be sure Goro truly survived, 2: Goro has no proof that he did die, but he’s operating based on assumptions, 3: Goro does not want to live in a world where he’s yet again powerless to someone else’s will. Ren basically has to choose between who he will make happy: himself (staying in the paradise) or Goro (and risk losing him). It’s honestly… really romantic?

3: This is the person Goro’s final Persona is based on.

#akeshu #shuake #persona 5 royal #persona 5 royal spoilers #p5r spoilers #mod krist translates #long post

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patchwork-panda · 5 years ago

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If A Moment is All We Are (5.1/?)

This chapter is REALLY long so I split the text ver into 2 parts for Tumblr.

AO3 link: here

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Story type: Romance/Drama/comedy

Pairing: Dazai x OC/reader (Dazai is endgame, fic is long-running and will also feature Kunikida x OC)

OC (Kusunoki Kyou) and Ability are based off of "The Story of Your Life," written by Ted Chiang, aka the basis of the Amy Adams movie "Arrival."

Rating: M for Blood/violence/themes of depression, anxiety, suicide TW: The second half of this story will deal more heavily with themes of suicide, depression/anxiety. *No major character death will occur*

Story follows OC as she joins the ADA, partners up with the detectives to solve various cases around Yokohama and develops feelings for Kunikida and Dazai (Dazai endgame).

Written for those who want an immersive ADA experience :)

Updates every Sunday evening around 6pm PST

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It wasn’t always like this.

Okay, maybe it was.

For as far back as I could remember, the visions had always been random, random events I would see of the future. If I was in physical contact with someone, the visions would be from their future. If I wasn’t, then the visions would be from my own life. Sometimes when I was really stressed, the visions of my future would actually come in the form of a dream, like in manga or novels.

Perhaps that was the best way to explain how The Story of Your Life worked; it was like taking out a book, keeping a finger against the pages and flipping until that finger finally caught on a single page. Then, flip open that page and read the first paragraph that jumps out; the book was the person’s life and the paragraph was the event, a single scene from that person’s future that I bore witness to.

The visions didn’t always show me death, blood and despair.

In fact, the very first vision I had was that of a puppy—a cute little thing my friend Kiko gifted me at my fifth birthday party. I must’ve seemed shockingly unsurprised (and possibly rude) to Kiko and her parents, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain that I’d seen her giving me this puppy half a year ago.

In retrospect, the puppy vision had been great. Sure, it took some of the fun out of a surprise gift but it was still a vision about a puppy. Honestly, if my visions were nothing more than glorified versions of baby animal videos, I’d be perfectly fine with that.

Maybe then, I wouldn’t be left with this overwhelming fear of my own Ability.

I used to be able to touch people, shake their hands, and hold them. In the beginning, “The Story of Your Life” only activated with a prolonged touch...

At first, “prolonged” meant more than ten seconds. That meant getting to play tag in kindergarten, going over to friends’ houses and having sleepovers. Normal stuff. My life didn’t even change all that much when ten seconds shrank to seven some time around middle school; I was able to play contact sports and go out on shopping trips without incident. Seven seconds became five halfway through high school. Again, no need to make lifestyle changes. I could still hold hands with friends, so long as it didn’t go on for too long and I was still able to have my first kiss without seeing even a hint of my boyfriend’s future.

And then, college. Five seconds was no longer doable. It became three at best and just before I’d become a shut-in, even an instantaneous touch was enough to trigger my Ability. By then, however, I’d gotten pretty used to having the visions, so I remained relatively unbothered when I’d see a vision of the barista breaking up with his girlfriend when I got my morning coffee. In other words, managing my Ability was no big deal.

Or so I thought.

About six months ago, my visions went from being an occasional distraction to a panic-inducing nightmare. I still wasn’t sure why...

Maybe it was just luck of the draw. I’d only seen good things, mostly, for the first ten-plus years at least: faraway cities, weddings, and graduations. Every once in a while there would be a failed exam or a lost wallet but overall nothing too out of the ordinary for an otherwise regular teenager to see.

Maybe it was just a sign of the times. As I got older, so did the people around me, so the more likely it was that they were entering that phase of their lives where things could start to go south. Or perhaps their previous lives were just catching up to them.

Or maybe, it was karma finally catching up to me. I’d be lying if I said that I’d never used my Ability for personal gain before. There were a few exams I managed to ace with the help of a well-timed touch of the hand and a few pitfalls I’d managed to avoid through a combination of sheer luck and a decently fast reflex. Perhaps six months ago, whatever granted me this power finally decided that I had a good run and it needed to end in the worst way possible...

And it all happened so quickly.

I never had much control over my visions to begin with and they never really bothered me before but suddenly, they were invading every part of my life—and with each vision I saw, the accuracy increased. My dreams became more vivid than ever; I would see things that had yet to occur and before I moved out, my college roommate would wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of my screams. I started passing out in the middle of class if someone so much as tapped my bare shoulder and when I came to again, it would be a minute before I remembered where I was and what I was doing. I was starting to consider seeking some kind of help until one day, I finally saw my first death.

It was horrible. I was at dinner with friends on a group date and I hit it off with one of the guys. He wanted to take me to the movies that weekend, and being relatively new to college and Yokohama in general, I agreed. Then, smiling, he’d held my hand just a millisecond too long and I saw it: him getting hit by a car while crossing the street.

I tried not to think about it too hard. Sometimes the vision were wrong. There were times when they’d been off by just a fraction of a second and because of that, I still had hope. Maybe there was a chance that things could change last minute, either by a miracle or by someone’s sheer force of will. But as time passed, my anxiety grew. He was running late and I didn’t like it. Finally, I spotted him at the intersection and, frantic, I waved him down just as the “walk” sign lit up and he started crossing the street.

That’s when it happened.

A single black vehicle, no license plate, ran a red... and ran into him.

I would remember seeing his body flying into the air for the rest of the semester.

After that, I started taking an alternate route to class, just to avoid going anywhere near the part of campus where he’d died. It wasn’t that people were whispering behind my back or accusing me of having a part of it—I just couldn’t handle the memory.

That was the first death.

The first.

It was as if some kind of floodgate had been opened. I had never seen death before that day but after...? Death became all I saw. I briefly shook hands with a foreign exchange student and immediately saw an image of a middle-aged woman lying in a hospital wing. The woman had been the student’s mother and I heard she died a week later. I could not have been responsible for the cancer that claimed her life but I spent weeks feeling guilty about it anyway. There was another incident where I accidentally, and literally, bumped into my English teacher on the way to class. I saw his brother being hit by a bus downtown. His death was announced a month later, on the morning news. When I saw it, I broke down in the middle of the cafeteria and my friend Eri had to take me home.

And it just kept happening.

I became afraid to touch people. I began wearing longer layers during the summer months and started keeping to myself. When even a brush of the hand or bumping into people on public transit could trigger a vision, I started wearing gloves. I got a lot of stares on the subway for wearing itchy winter gloves in the subtropical heat and the knitted fabric made gripping the overhead handholds difficult so I ended up changing to disposable nitrile instead. I got less stares for that but unfortunately, I eventually had to give up public transit entirely when I got squished between two tourists and had a panic attack in the middle of the car.

But giving up public transportation put me in a tough spot. My dorm was pretty far from campus and I didn’t know how to drive. If I really wanted to, I could walk but that would take far too long and make for far too many chances to see another person’s death. And I really didn’t want to ask anyone for a ride because that would just mean more questions and more explanations I wasn’t willing to give.

And yet somehow, I managed to make it work for a time, waking up early to go to class, avoiding hangouts in-between classes and running back to my dorm as soon as I got a chance. But I was still attending classes with lots of people in a crowded lecture hall and living with roommates in a dormitory building. Ultimately, the stress of trying to avoid people while also trying to keep up with increasingly difficult classes caused me to start having nightmares. They were frequent and they were bad. And I knew that these were all things that would someday happen to me: me and a friend being held hostage in an abandoned apartment building, a woman in a suit and sunglasses pointing two machine guns directly at my face, a man didn’t recognize growing steadily colder in my arms as I screamed for him not to leave me...

That following morning, I woke up sobbing—crying as if I wished I was the one who had died instead. When my roommate tried to comfort me, I jerked away out of instinct and immediately realized I’d made a mistake.

And that was it.

I couldn’t it take any more.

About a week later, I left the dorm and found myself a tiny studio apartment, one that I could still afford on my shoestring budget and more importantly, one where I could live completely alone.

Soon after, I dropped out of college and became a shut-in. In true shut-in fashion, I shunned all contact from classmates and friends in case someone came to visit and decide they needed to barge in because they couldn’t—shouldn’t—do such a thing. My apartment had become both my sanctuary and my jail. So long as nothing changed around me, none of the horrible visions would come to pass.

Thankfully, a month into my new lifestyle, the nightmares stopped.

So long as nobody came near me, I wouldn’t have to witness another death with my waking eyes...

I still remembered the night I decided to stop going to class. It was the same night I looked out the windows and saw my own reflection, touched my fingers to my face and pulled them away, confirming that it was indeed blood and not salt tears that dripped down my cheeks. I started avoiding mirrors from that day on and threw myself fully into watching anime, joining fandoms and drawing commissions, anything to distract myself from the invasive, self-destructive thoughts that grew stronger whenever I looked into a reflection of my own eyes.

Yes... Staying was the only solution. If I never stepped out of the apartment again, the world would be spared the sight of my hollow eyes and bloody tears... And I—I would be spared the curse of witnessing things I should never have seen to begin with.

***

“So you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the last six months doing...”

Kunikida frowned, tapping his pen against his chin.

“What exactly? Rent in Yokohama isn’t cheap. How have you been supporting yourself?”

“Commissions,” I explained. “I started watching a lot of anime and playing video games and fans pay good money for drawings of their favorite characters, original characters or even pictures of themselves in a stylized form.”

Summing up my Ability meant practically telling these two my entire life story, not just recalling the events of this morning, and I had to commend the detectives’ patience for sitting through what I would’ve considered a pretty long-winded explanation. Now I was even telling them how I’d stretched my budget and supplemented my allowance.

I held out my hand.

“If I could have some paper and something to write with, I could show you, if you like...?”

Dazai immediately ripped Kunikida’s notebook and pen out of his hands. Ignoring his partner’s protests, he held them out to me and, throwing his arm out to keep Kunikida from taking back his own things, sat back to watch me draw. Within seconds, a coarse outline appeared on the pages, followed by facial features: eyes, nose, hair—a minute later, I handed back Kunikida’s notebook, a quick, rudimentary pen sketch of each detective on its two open pages.

As one, they leaned in to stare at it.

“This is pretty good,” Kunikida said, looking up at me. He squinted down at the page, tracing the lines with his fingers, mumbling, “Does my hair really look like that?”

“It is... isn’t it?” Dazai agreed, rubbing his chin.

As Kunikida puzzled over the drawing, a mischievous glint appeared in Dazai’s dark eyes.

“Kusunoki-san... Have you ever considered a career as a sketch artist?”

At once, Kunikida shot him a warning look.

“Don’t even think about it, Dazai,” he growled, “Making decisions without the President’s approval—”

“I’m not making a decision, only a suggestion,” Dazai declared. “And what’s wrong with a good suggestion?”

“Dazai...”

Ignoring Kunikida entirely, he turned to me.

“Really, I don’t know how we survived like this for so long. We’re a detective agency, one of the best in the city and yet, we don’t have a sketch artist... It’s a shame, don’t you agree, Kusunoki-san? What do you think? Interested in a change of career?”

“Wait... are you asking me to join you?” I asked warily, looking from one detective to the other. “Why would you want someone like me? I can’t fight. I don’t even know how to shoot a gun.”

“I’m asking you,” Dazai said pointedly, “if you would be interested in becoming a sketch artist. I mean, it just so happens that we are in dire need of one—(“No one said that!” Kunikida roared)—and you happen to have the exact skill set we are looking for! Not to mention you’re an Ability User... Just think of all the people you could help.”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, looking away, “Wouldn’t someone like me be more of a burden than an asset? I can’t even control my Ability, much less use it to help people—”

“But what if you could control it?”

I froze. Having had no control of my Ability for my entire life, the possibility hadn’t even occurred to me...

“There’s a way?” I asked, looking back up just as Dazai’s grin turned into a triumphant smirk. “How?”

“I could tell you,” he drawled, his smirk growing even wider, “But it’s a closely guarded secret. You’d have to join us if you want to find out... Of course, I’d be more than happy to vouch for you if you’d like to apply—”

“Dazai—!! You—!”

Kunikida was on his feet.

“We can’t just offer a job to every stray Ability User we rescue from the Port Mafia! Atsushi was one thing but—”

“Oh my, so you’d be perfectly fine sending a nice girl like her back into the jaws of the Port Mafia? Really, I thought better of you, Kunikiiiiiida-kun—”

“That’s not what I said!”

“So you agree, we should take her in?”

Kunikida’s face was in his hands.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but it’s not our decision to make! And besides, she’s clearly been through enough, what makes you think she would agree to—”

“I’ll do it.”

Kunikida’s mouth dropped open. He looked stunned.

“You will—? Wait, no, I never said I agreed—”

“Let me apply,” I said, looking him firmly in the eyes. “I want to help people. I’ve always wanted to. Isn’t that what you do here at the Agency? Use your special Abilities to make their lives better?”

“That’s true,” Kunikida admitted, folding his arms over his chest, “But this can be a dangerous job. Especially for a non-combatant. You almost died today! Why do you want to help people so bad? In fact, let me ask you...”

His eyes flashed from behind his glasses, his expression fierce.

“Why did you go so far for a neighbor with whom you weren’t particularly close?”

I glared right back.

“I had to save her.”

“But it sounds like you already did, when you pulled her off the sidewalk—”

“That’s not good enough!” I burst out, startling Kunikida. “How could I say I saved her, truly saved her, if I knew she was going to die in a week and I did nothing to stop it?”

My hands clenched into fists.

“That doesn’t count. Saving someone means seeing it through to the end, to fully committing yourself and doing what’s right! Isn’t that what you did for me? What both of you did to bring me here today?”

Kunikida was struck dumb. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Dazai got to his feet.

“I think it’s about time I take Kusunoki-san back to her apartment,” he said, making his way to the door, his long tanned trench coat swishing elegantly as he moved.

He patted Kunikida on the shoulder.

“I’ll let you think about what we should tell the President later.”

Kunikida instantly flushed an angry, embarrassed pink.

“Dazai, you—”

Ignoring his partner, Dazai called out to me.

“Kusunoki-san? I won’t be taking you back to your original apartment tonight. We’ll be going to one of the Agency’s safe houses instead. After everything that’s happened, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Port Mafia had staked out your building and had someone ready and waiting for you at home. And if you’re wondering, Yamazaki-san is on her way to her nephew’s place in Nagano, so you won’t need to worry about her.”

“But what about my things?” I asked, “What am I gonna tell the landlord?”

“It’s already been taken care of,” Dazai replied, opening the door for me. “Shall we?”

#dazai x oc #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai #doppo kunikida #fanfiction

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quatschmachen · 6 years ago

Text

Tangles

A small late Christmas Monmonton fic. Takes place in 1984.

Masterpost

XXXXX

Outside the wind was blowing the cold snow across the street, whipping the drifts across the sidewalk, where a once cleanly shoveled pavement was once again covered in the light crystalline fluff not yet crushed underfoot of passersby.

Inside the home the tree was fresh, standing there bare, slightly pulled out from the corner, close to the crackling fireplace. It seemed rather forlorn amongst the festively decorated house, where popcorn garlands and handmade stockings hung.

Across the room Étienne and Samuel had entered into a heated argument as to how to decorate the tree. Edward was helping Jacques put the bubble lights on, or more honestly, untangle the bubble lights and test them. Somehow in detangling, the lights had wrapped around his elbow with one of the bubblers poking him in the bicep.

<Let me help you with that,> Jacques said as he gently lay down his section to untangle Edward.

<Tell me… do they always do that?> Edward nodded to where Étienne had grabbed the box of ornaments and was holding them hostage to an ever increasingly angry Samuel.

<So… what happens?>

Jacques took a moment to respond, as he worked out one of the more complicated tangles.

<Why do they need to fight if it’s the same result each year?> Edward was feeling like a fish out of water having come to this intimate family gathering. He was still baffled as to why they had invited him, but anything to escape the awkward Christmas with Edith he would take. Christmases at his place had never been the same since his time in the asylum. He sensed that Edith had been privately relieved as well when he had informed her of his invitation to elsewhere. The invitation elsewhere which originally had meant to only be him at Étienne’s, a planned out event of relaxing while Étienne moaned on about some artist he had to read about in class, or excitedly jabber on about some weird modern art style he had just learnt about. Ever since Étienne had gotten it into his head to get an MA in art history – and actually got into the school, Edward had noticed a gradual change in the other man, where once there had been an odd vacancy of interest, a renewed spark had taken hold. Étienne had one more semester before he graduated, and Edward was very… proud, mixed with something else.

What he had assumed would be a private Christmas actually meant going to Trois-Rivières for the ‘family shindig’, a change in plans which he had not mentally prepared for. How the hell would he be explained? Étienne had waved off all his concerns informing him that ‘Suzette was the best’ and ‘we always bring friends over so its not a problem’ followed by ‘you really need to try Suzette’s tourtière’.

So he was here, the lost stranger amongst the tight knit family, talking to what could tentatively be called the patriarch. He had not figured out the other man, he was reserved, not at all like his two brothers, perhaps a little more like Élyse in nature.

Jacques shrugged as he gently released Edward’s arm from the lights, <It’s how they say they love each other.>

Étienne was loudly screeching because Samuel had swiped the box from him, followed by thumping as Samuel quickly ran from the room.

<Love, huh? Almost sounds like a murder.> Edward joked, pleased to see a small smile appear on the other man’s face. Love was the reason why he was here, sitting with the brother, keeping distances between him and Étienne. Somehow being here was making everything around him seem real, where in private he could dream that the man he loved could return a feeling, being plunked down into this scenario made everything that wasn’t apparent. Consciously he did not touch the other man, he lived in absolute fear that the family would suspect something. The something that wasn’t there. The something that had twisted him, the thing that tormented him. What the hell would he do if anyone asked if he and Étienne were… more than friends? Lie of course, lie bald faced to the sweet-cheeked Suzette, ‘no, just old friends’, where the lie was mostly truth, the most effective tool to bury down the truths not meant for the waking day.

<We should test before we wrap,> Jacques said as he plugged it in, distracting Edward from the pandemonium in the next room. There was that moment of anticipation, a brief flash, and then a gentle pop.

<Oh no, the blue bulb.> Edward automatically said.

<Don’t worry, I have replacements…> almost proudly, Jacques produced a small box. Methodically he tested each and every bulb, found the culprit and replaced it. The care with which Jacques did the action, the satisfaction on his face as the lights once more flickered on, his face suddenly reflected in blue, twisted Edward’s stomach. He hated it, but he was jealous. Adjusting his glasses, Edward shifted away, trying to quell these unpleasant feelings. Mechanically he helped Jacques wrap the tree in the lights, pricking himself in the process, thankfully not drawing any blood. Standing back, Jacques surveyed the tree, making small adjustments to the lights, until he nodded in satisfaction.

Looking at Edward he said, <Now we let the two hyenas fight over the decorations… do you want some eggnog?>

<Sure...> Rubbing his hands on his corduroy pants, Edward followed Jacques into the kitchen, where Suzette was putting together some of the meal for the next day. As she placed the lid on the dish, she let out a sound of surprise as Jacques snuck up from behind and wrapped her in his arms, giving her a kiss on her neck.

<Jacques!>

<Nutmeg, cinnamon, brown sugar….> she began listing off, before she noticed Edward awkwardly standing halfway in the kitchen, almost ready to flee. <Édouard, did you want some eggnog?>

<Yes.>

<O-ok.> quickly Edward found himself a mug, and hastily ladled some of the warm alcoholic liquid into it, before making a hasty exit not wishing to see any more of what he could not have.

The hallway wasn’t well lit, and as his wool socks slid slightly on that gap where the wood floor peeked out from the rug, Edward warmed his hands on the mug and looked at the photos on the wall. All the frames were the same, a nice medium brown wood, with different images of the family. It looked as if they had recently had a professional photograph taken, as that one was pride of place amongst the constellations of smaller images around it. There was an image of Suzette and Jacques under a tree, hands clasped as they looked at each other deep in conversation, whoever had taken that photograph seemed to know the exact moment to capture, a moment where the sun was shining, the soft dapple of the leaf shadows around them, haloing a couple deeply in love.

Taking a sip of the cinnamon rum eggnog, he swallowed the creamy mixture, licking his lips as he glanced over the photo of Élyse wearing the hugest hair bow he had ever seen in his entire life, an image of Samuel posing dramatically on some stone stairs, and then one of Étienne wearing some ridiculous pompom sweater. Another photo of Étienne and Élyse at the Montreal Olympics, wearing the official jacket smiling in front of the flame, eyes alight with pride. This house, Edward realized, served as the heart of this strange family nucleus, where Jacques, though quiet and never one much to be noticed, was the anchor. What would it be like to have that back home? He wondered.

A place for people to gather, feel safe, be happy together. He hadn’t had that in a long time, and his mind drifted to his family. Edith who was spending Christmas with some friends, Mac, hell when had he actually had a good sit down visit with him? Calvin? He wasn’t really family, plus he was busy annoying the hell out of Caroline and whoever else had the misfortune to be in his festive Christmas proximity. His thoughts were broken when he heard something fall to the floor in the other room, followed by Étienne letting out a string of very serious curses.

Curiously he made his way to the living room where he saw Étienne on the floor holding something, tears in his eyes as he continued to shout at Samuel who was looking down at him with a rather nasty expression.

<Relax baby brother, that decoration never really fit in with the theme anyway, that little piece of ugly… “art…” as you call it, was never worth much anyway, I think it looks better like that.> Samuel responded in a not at all comforting manner.

Was Jacques really sure this is how they expressed love for each other? Edward thought. To him it just looked like a terrible relationship. Samuel had turned his back on Étienne and was beginning to decorate the tree. As he once more looked to Étienne, Edward realized that he was in fact starting to sob rather hard. What the hell had broke? His legs were moving before he had even considered that it might be bad to walk into this situation, and he crouched next to the other man.

<Bouclés?> he said softly, <Do you want to come to the dining table with me? Bring the ornament.>

Étienne looked at him, face red from crying, then looked at the ground trying to see if he had missed any pieces. Edward also looked, finding a small wire, and an odd ball. He looked at the ornament in Étienne’s hand, and then, when Étienne confirmed they had all the pieces, he followed Edward to the dining room, carefully laying out the broken pieces on the wooden table. Sitting down, he placed his mug on the table with a thud, and looked at it frowning in thought. Étienne had quieted down slightly, watching him.

<Do you have some needle-nose pliers and glue here?> Edward asked, his thoughts shifting to the ornament, moving the parts around. Finally before him was something he could do. He was good with his hands, with fixing what needed to be fixed. Years of necessity had taught him to repair. This ornament, while probably never going to be perfect, was doable.

<Uh—yeah.> Étienne disappeared, returning quickly with the asked for items. He handed them to Edward, then once more sat on the chair nearby, knees drawn up to his chin as he intently watched the other man work.

Edward felt sort of guilty for having avoided the other man ever since they had got to this house, guilty about being sort of snappy when he had been shown Étienne’s room – asking where he would sleep, and having a minor freak-out until Étienne had rolled his eyes and showed him the pullout couch in the den next to his bedroom. He probably shouldn’t have done that, but there was nothing to do about it now. He could feel the other man’s eyes upon his hands, and he hoped that maybe repairing this ornament could make up for his mood earlier.

The only sound in the dining room was the tick-tock of the grandfather clock out in the hallway.

<So… this goes here, right?> Edward asked.

<Yes… but a little like…> Étienne reached out, his fingers brushing against Edward’s as he shifted the ball.

It took every inch of willpower not to automatically pull away, to relax into the brief touch. No one would suspect anything from such an innocent moment, even if secretly his heart was pounding. Trying not to sound shaky, Edward asked, <So I glue it like this?>

<Yeah.>

Edward glued the piece into place, and then looked up at the other man with a wry expression, as he held it. <Looks like I might be here for a while, I should have thought this through. This is a Calder piece, isn’t it?>

<Bouclés, who else is known for making cool mobiles and was featured at Expo 67? Of course the moment you saw this tiny mobile you had to get it.>

Letting out a snort, Étienne mumbled, <Well I think we might have interfered with the artistic intent… probably won’t move as it should now… but thanks for fixing it.>

<Oh ye of little faith,> Edward responded, then, <Hey, can you like… hold up my eggnog so I can drink it?>

It took a little awkward positioning, but finally, the mug was held up enough and Edward managed a sip.

<This is gonna take a while of me holding it together, so why don’t you entertain me? Tell me something interesting.> Edward prompted, knowing that if he had to sit in silence for the next twenty minutes next to the man he should not touch he would go absolutely mad.

Étienne’s face lit up. <Yeah! This semester I took a class on surrealist art and when it comes to Magritte…> his voice droned on as he enthusiastically informed Edward all about this artist, and how he had adopted some of the techniques discussed into some of his own paintings (paintings which Edward had yet to see manifest.)

Nodding along, Edward made the appropriate comments, genuinely interested, but also halfway trying not to lean into the other man. Whenever that urge got too strong, he would get Étienne to hold up his eggnog, taking that movement to gather himself.

After another twenty minutes, Edward set the piece down onto the table. <This probably shouldn’t be moved until tomorrow. Let the glue cure.>

<But… how am I supposed decorate with it to save the tree from the boring Christmas aesthetic Samuel is subjecting it to?>

<Bouclés, just wake up early,> Edward rolled his eyes and then let out a sound of surprise as Étienne was suddenly much closer, back of his hand brushing warm against his cheek, as Étienne leant forward and whispered.

<That’s usually tough to do with you around.>

<We’re not sharing the same bed,> Edward hissed, <I thought we covered I’m sleeping on the pull-out couch downstairs?>

<You haven’t slept on that pull-out couch…> Étienne replied ominously as he quickly pulled away as the sound of someone walking drew closer.

Élyse peeked in, <Oh that’s where you two are. C’mon, it’s Christmas carols.>

#quatschfic #pc: edmonton #pc: montreal #1980s

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words-writ-in-starlight · 8 years ago

Note

so i'm assuming that all the reincarnated ham crew look like their musical actors, which, awesome. but i was thinking about jefferson, who was a racist fucker being reincarnated as a black man. like. how would that even go down?

*emerges from cave, shamefaced* Right, so, does anyone remember that this AU exists? Because I swear to God I didn’t forget, I just only now have had the time. I actually have a bunch of prompts for it, not all of them are going to get written based on...like...my inspiration level, but also this series is alive again, so like. Yep. Here is some Jefferson. Full disclosure, I dislike Jefferson and think his economic plan was some racist bullshit, so...that is evident.

To all you newcomers, I do recommend reading the other stuff, even if you could probably figure it out.

All In One Spot AU

So, the academic affairs office holds out longer than theirpredecessor. Not by much, but by alittle. It takes two full weeks for Alexto hammer through his petition to be allowed to take more than max credits—and it’squite a petition. Angelica takes one look at the twenty-page,double-sided, single-spaced letter to the dean of academics and disavows anyinvolvement, and John grins fondly, remarking that the dean has no idea what he’sgotten into.

The dean, incidentally, has lived his life with pleasantly dim memoriesof Philedelphia with cobblestone streets and a vague impression that he knowsthe unfortunate teacher annually strong-armed into teaching History of theAmerican Revolution. He recalls verylittle else of his time in the Continental Congress—indeed, at gunpoint hecouldn’t have identified what exactly he was doing, back then.

He has a blindingly vividflashback upon looking at the first page of the letter—the pamphlet, really—and immediately feeds the entire thing through hisshredder.

“Jake,” he says, sticking his head out of his office to look at hissecretary.

“Yes, sir?”

“Approve whatever Hamilton’s request was before he sends anymoreletters. I’ve seen enough for severallifetimes.”

“You got it, boss,” says Jake, whose past life was a blissfullyunremarkable farmer in the Italian countryside and who therefore has no ideathat his boss is sparing them all a lot of trouble.

Now, the reason this matters is because Alex walks into his Econ 101class for the first time two weeks into the semester, takes one look at thelesson outline the grad student wrote on the board, and makes a sound ofabsolute incoherent horror.

“Oh my god,” Alex says faintly, frozen in place two steps inside thedoor. He was never an especiallyreligious person, but he’s wondering if maybe the universe is punishing him forpast crimes. He’s not saying one way orthe other if he deserves it, but this seems excessive. “Jefferson is haunting me from beyond thegrave.”

“Listen, kid,” sighs the grad student. She wears her hair buzzed short on one side and is clutching her coffeealmost as fiercely as Alex is, and he thinks this is maybe not her first classtoday from the also, I don’t carelook on her face. “We’re doing a reviewof some basic socioeconomic structures, and the Jeffersonian/Hamiltonian debateis, like, critical. So could you--”

“But it’s bullshit,” Alexbursts out before he can even try to hold his tongue. “It was bullshit when Jefferson first came upwith it, and it’s bullshit now.”

“Jesus Christ,” a voice fromsomewhere in the front third of the lecture hall mutters. A tall figure unfolds itself from a chair andsays, “Have you ever taken an economics class in your life?”

Alex can actually taste the way his blood pressure skyrockets. It occurs to him, briefly, that someone—possiblyEliza, also possibly the General—might kill him if he starts a fight right now,but. On the other hand. He’s going to start a fight. He’s got no choice, basically.

“Have you?” he demands rudely,turning to stare up the lecture hall at the young man—maybe a sophomore, he’stoo angry to be sure, but he’s wearing a very questionable magenta hoodie andhis hair is even fluffier than Lafayette’s and honestly he has a very punchableface, in Alex’s humble opinion—and narrowing his eyes. “I mean, do you have a single legitimateargument for why Jefferson’s bullshit plan would work? Because let me just say, plenty of Southernersloved to sit around and talk about how the country was being railroaded by thebig cities in the North but--”

“If the North can’t balance their own needs with the supply they cangenerate, why should the South--”

Fine, if that’s how he wants to play it. Alex raises his voice to try to drown the other guy out. “If the South wants to call itself a part ofa country, it needs to support--”

“State-by-state trade--”

“—what, you expect landowners to share their profits freely enough tokeep a country alive, God you’re naïve--”

“—freedom from the chokeholdof a national bank--”

“—so the country can be held hostage by the South?”

“Farms and farm owners should be able to dictate where their finances--”

“—can’t punish the North for the sin of not having huge arable fields--”

“—your vaunted manufacturing facilities cover it?”

By now they’re bellowing at each other over the heads of the rest of theclass, real anger kicking up an intellectual debate into something familiar,and so Alex isn’t really surprised by the next slip of his tongue. Old habits, new dogs—old dogs? Something like that.

Anyway.

Point is, Alex slams his textbook down onto the grad student’s table andhollers, “Goddamnit, Jefferson, I wasright and history proves it, get off your fucking high horse!”

There’s a long couple seconds where Alex remembers, in the dead silencethat’s settled on the lecture hall, that he was kind of planning to keep a lidon that? Oh well, any hope of secrecywas blown to shit by Washington’s class anyway and fuck it, he’s right, he was right then and he’s right now, andfurthermore—

“Go fuck yourself, Hamilton,” the tall guy says, and Alex has a smallheart attack.

“Jesus God, fucking Christ, what the fuck,” the grad student blurts allat once in a rush, but Alex doesn’t answer her, too busy taking a deep breathto launch his next volley.

Admittedly, it’s not a gracious one, but listen, just listen: Alex is not a gracious personand no one ever said he was, certainly never more than once, and definitely notafter having an argument with him.

“Hey, look, I’m sure it’s rough to realize that all your best effortsonly ended in Andrew Jackson’s racist ass closing down the federal bank andlanding us all neck deep in shit a hundred and fifty years later--”

“Excuse me, I wrote--”

Alex drives over the tall guy’s protests—Jefferson’s protests, and wow, he’s going to hear about this fromWashington later. “—but you really haveto get over your bullshit economic plan and just admit that it depends on slavery.”

“It does not!”

“Oh my god it does, it totallydoes, the only way your plan works is if there’s basically no economic overheadfor labor, and like, listen, buddy, I’m not sure if anyone ever told you this,but we had a whole war about the slavery thing, it was a very big deal, itkilled like a million people and then we agreed that slavery was bad.” Alex pauses and very slowly arches an eyebrowat Jefferson, enjoying this…probably more than he should. “Do youagree that slavery was bad, Thomas?” he asks with a wide smile.

If Jefferson purses his lips any harder, Alex thinks they might actuallyfuse. “Still an asshole and animmigrant, I see.”

“Well, not all of us had such an easy karmic target on our backs as,say, just for example, a slave owner with a realbad track record getting brought back as a black guy,” Alex points outgenerously. “If Maria shows up, I’m morethan happy to let her follow Peggy’s example and punch me, I’m doing mypenance.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Jefferson tells the ceiling.

“I dunno, man,” the girl sitting next to him says. “Sounds like you might. Like, I did the reading and your plan was kind of bullshit.”

Honestly this is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him—well,no, it’s not even the greatest thing to happen to him this month, but it’s upthere, okay, it’s way up there. “I feel so, so validated,” Alex tells thegrad student, who looks like she might be in shock? Her eyes are wide and her jaw is slack, so hecocks his head and asks, “Are you okay?”

She shuts her mouth with a click, closes her eyes, swallows. Pinches the bridge of her nose between herthumb and finger. It’s shockinglysimilar to Washington’s patented Headache Pose that always appeared during thelatest cabinet battle royal.

“Can you two be trusted to not kill each other if you sit on oppositesides of the hall?”

“Come on, now, we worked together for like—most of a couple decades,”Alex says after a second of mental math.

“Yeah,” she says, opening her eyes and visibly trying not to be star struck, which Alex…appreciates, to becompletely honest. “And then you, youknow, mutually annihilated each other and he spent a couple more decades tryingto blackball your name out of the history books.”

“It’s so rare that I feel like the bigger person,” Alex says, bouncingon his toes.

“That’s because you’re unnaturally small,” Jefferson mutters, sullenlyresuming his seat.

“I am not listening to baseless insults about my height right now, thankyou, Jefferson, I have the eternal trump card and there’s nothing you can doabout it.”

The grad student puts her head back into her hand, and squeezes her eyesshut.

#all in one spot au #alexander hamilton #hamilton #hamilton fic #reincarnation au #thomas jefferson #tjeffs #I'M NOT DEAD #also is it blindingly obvious from this ficlet that i've had this argument?#because i have #this is an angrier shoutier transcript of an argument i've trotted out several times #basically PAY YOUR FUCKING TAXES #this has been a psa #anyway rip this grad student idk who she was maybe anna strong or something #she doesn't deserve this #washington is going to be Very Done also when he finds out this is a thing #pour one out for all these students who are going to have to put up with these two assholes in their econ class #now some more full disclosure: i have never taken an econ class #anyway A N Y W A Y #god focus jesus okay #in case it's not blindingly obvious i low-key assume alex had adhd and write him accordingly #OKAY NO MORE RAMBLES #necessary tags #moran writes stuff #anonymous #asked and answered

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its-buckysbabe · 8 years ago

Text

Zelus (3/5)

im so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up - life had different plans for me and i had to deal with that. everything is back under control now, which is good, but at the same time i have a lot of uni work to deal with and since this is my last semester i gotta make sure i do decently good.

the positive that came from all of this is that i have a pretty strict schedule for the next few months which means i have regular times i can write and as such im gonna do my best to upload regularly, every friday. i dont know if there’ll be another chapter this friday but i’ll try my best!

also this sounds really weird but honestly i channeled my inner DJ Khaled while writing this.

Characters: bucky x reader

Summary: Y/N tells Bucky that she isn’t the jealous type and so it turns into a sort of competition to see if he can make her jealous. based on this prompt by @buckyprompts

Warnings: mentions of Stockholm syndrome.

Word count: 2,250 words

Also read here: AO3

Masterlist Part I, Part II,

Weeks passed without another incident, so much so that you’d honestly completely forgotten all about Bucky’s little challenge. The entire team was scattered about on the Quinjet, each tending to their injuries, with some even tending to the wounds of the hostages you’d just rescued.

This mission had been a little different to the things you usually dealt with. You had been trailing and apprehending a businessman who was also involved in illegal international arms dealing - and by ‘involved’ you meant that he was singlehandedly responsible for about 80% of all guns and weapons bought on the black market in the entire world. The mission would have normally been something you’d leave to the international community, perhaps the team would offer their assistance to NATO or whoever, and be done with it. But this mission had been particularly personal to Tony, understandably so, and as such the whole team had gotten involved. Even Thor was on standby in Asgard, ready to travel through the realms at a moment’s notice.

Thankfully everything had gone off without a hitch and you were all on your way back to the tower, to return to your relative normalcy. First, though, you had to drop of the hostages at the FBI headquarters. Unannounced. Which would probably cause a shit-tonne of paperwork. Which would probably shave at least two entire movies off the Fassbender marathon you’d been mentally preparing for the duration of the flight.

You were in the middle of making mental calculations, trying to figure out when it would be best to take your designated bathroom breaks when you locked eyes with Bucky across the Quinjet. He was sat with three of the seven hostages, and judging by his body language he was doing his best to ignore them. He was angled away from them, his head turned even more in the opposite direction even though that left him starting at the wall. His shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. You also noticed that he was still wearing all of his weaponry, strung across his frame on strategically placed hooks. You couldn’t help but snort at that. Trust Bucky to be the one to run into open gunfire to rescue complete strangers but then leave an AK-47 strapped across his back so he didn’t have to speak to him.

He heard your snort and broke his scary façade for a second to wink at you, knowing you’d understand why he was doing his best to appear menacing to a few harmless civilians. Though you did belatedly realise that they were all women, which may have also been another factor in Bucky’s unease. Bucky was completely incorrigible, a flirty man who was not ashamed of his sexuality and very in tune with it. He loved to tease, make innuendos and he also had a wicked sense of humour. It did take a while to get to that level of comfort with him, though. You remembered when you first met him, how standoffish and distant he’d been and how that contrasted to the playful and charming man that emerged the longer you knew him.

Regardless, you grinned at him, silently basking in his discomfort. You knew that he wasn’t genuinely uncomfortable. He could hold a friendly, and professional, conversation with these women if he chose to. He could play the part of a hero but he also got incredibly flustered and somewhat frustrated when people he didn’t know would flirt with him. Which was bound to happen judging by the looks on the women’s faces. Not that you could blame them! Bucky was always handsome but there was just something entirely different about his aura when he was in his tactical gear. It was dark and sexy, a thrilling danger surrounding him.

Suddenly Bucky’s eyes lit up, and a cheeky smirk was prominent on his features. He rolled his shoulders back before he shuffled in his seat, turning his body towards the pretty woman to his left. He opened his legs, essentially manspreading on the small bench, and crowding the woman’s space with his very presence. Not that she was complaining. Her eyes lit up and she rearranged herself too, almost straddling the bench in a bid to minimise the remaining space between herself and Bucky.

He started talking, and judging by her reactions he was laying it on thick. She blushed and laughed and giggled. He brushed the hair out of her face and she gently rested her hand on his forearms. You watched with mild interest from your seat, nudging the almost asleep Sam next you. He startled awake, immediately looking for a threat in, still running on his adrenaline. You shook your head before pointedly looking forward until the sleepy Sam followed your gaze to Bucky and his new friend.

“That man does not know what he’s getting himself into, does he?” Sam asked, humour very apparent in his voice. You knew Sam’s relationship with Bucky and you also knew he would immensely enjoy this. Which was precisely the reason you’d decided to wake him up from his well-deserved nap.

“Nope.” You replied, popping the ‘p’.

“How bad do you think she’s going to be?” Sam wondered aloud, his lips quirking up slightly the longer he thought about it.

“She seems really nice but, honestly, I think he’d fucked.” You said in a matter-of-factly.

“And why are you enjoying this so much?” Sam asked you a moment later, seemingly only now realising that you were watching your boyfriend flirting with another woman with rapt attention.

“Because I am not pulling her off of him later on.” You answered as you turned towards him, mischief clear in your voice.

“See. I knew there was a reason you were my favourite for a reason.” Sam grinned at you, slinging his arm across your shoulder and pulling you into him.

“Thanks, birdman.” You laughed back at him, affectionately slapping him in the chest.

“Y/N. Sam.” Steve’s voice broke the silence you had found yourself in. Both you and Sam were just content watching Bucky dig his own grave until Steve showed up.

“Steve.” Sam nodded at him, not taking his eyes off the train wreck that was happening across the jet.

“Dorito.” You said in the same voice as Sam, though you couldn’t help but look at Steve. You loved his reaction whenever you called him that. His eyebrows would always rise in surprise and then his face would turn red. He still got flustered when people made comments about his physique, especially ones that were complimentary even if they were teasing, and you found it absolutely adorable.

“I thought you agreed to stop that?” Steve almost whined. So adorable.

“No.” you shook your head, a grin on your lips.

“Alright.” Steve simply shook his head at you, mocking disappointment though you could see the small smile gracing his lips.

“What bring you over here to the fun side of the jet, Stevie? Shouldn’t you be off somewhere on the phone explaining to the FBI why we’re flying into their facility unannounced?” You asked after a second, partly curious but also partly hoping to move this whole conversation along so that you could continue watching Bucky set himself up for trouble.

“Nah. I figured I’d call a few of them ‘son’ and then sort of wing it.” Steve said as he shrugged.

“He’s really good at that! You should’ve heard the speech he gave at SHIELD with the whole helicarrier thing. I still can’t believe he came up with that off the top of his head…” Sam exclaimed excitedly. He looked up at Steve with something akin to awe in his eyes, to which he replied with a tiny little smirk.

“Actually, I came over here to ask you what’s going on with Buck?” Steve explained though by the end it sounded more like a question.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“He’s over there flirting up a storm with one of the hostages and you’re sat here with Sam…” Steve said slowly, vaguely waving his hand at you.

“Hey! That’s a perfectly logical choice! She’s finally had enough of you senior citizens and also if you go black you never go back. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” Sam said indignantly. He turned to you at the end, mouth cocked in a smirk and eyebrow raised in what he assumed was a suave expression. He just looked silly to be completely honest.

“Sam. Samuel. My friend. My colleague. My teammate. I’m asking you for the sake of humanity to never, ever, ever, say anything like that ever again. And I mean ever.” You said seriously, as you took one of his hands between yours in what was meant to be a comforting gesture but really only caused Steve to barely contain a chuckle at the scene before him.

“Damn… Ain’t you ever heard of letting a brother down gently?…” Sam grumbled as he walked away, probably to go find Natasha somewhere and annoy her for a change. You patted the empty seat and Steve lowered himself into it.

“Anyway, I’m not bothered. I know Bucky wouldn’t genuinely do anything like to me so it’s alright.” You told him simply. It was true. You never thought for a second that Bucky would ever cheat on you. And also he was smarter than that. If he were ever to do something like this he would definitely not be doing it in a crowded space with his friends, and especially not a few metres away from you.

“I realise that but she might not?” Steve questioned. It seemed he was still in ‘Captain America mode’ and was only thinking of the civilian’s wellbeing.

“I’m betting on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever heard of Stockholm syndrome, Stevie?”

“No?”

“Right, well. It’s this thing where you fall in love, or what you think is love, with someone who’s kidnapped you. Which is beside the point here but what I mean is that she’s just come out of an emotionally stressful situation, and your best pal Buckaroo is offering her safety and affection.” You explain

“So?” Steve questions you, apparently not following along.

“Stevie, she’s gonna latch onto him like a magnet.” You deadpan.

“Oh.” Steve replied articulately.

“Yeah. And I am 100% not dealing with that.” You carry on, vaguely gesturing in Bucky’s direction.

“I see.” Steve says, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He leans forward a little, finally as interested as you were in the situation that was unfolding in front of you. You settled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, content to watch Bucky ruin the rest of his day.

Barely ten minutes passed and Tony was pulling the jet into descend. You still found it difficult to comprehend the speed of the Quinjet. Sometimes you really loved his obsession with technology. Honestly, after being part of the Avengers taking commercial airplanes would never be an option again.

The second the jet touched down and the emergency lights turned off everyone jumped into action. Steve got up and fetched his cowl and shield, Sam checked on Redwing as he strapped himself back in and everyone else made sure they had all their equipment firmly attached to their person. You were currently buckling your tactical suit back up, watching with amusement as Bucky tried to extract himself from the hold the girl had on his arm. He finally managed to shake her off, none too gently, and tried to walk away to safety. Which is when she very promptly burst into tears.

It wasn’t big, ugly crying. She didn’t scream or wail. A few tears streaked down her face, and honest to God you felt bad for her. You momentarily thought about going over there and comforting her yourself when you saw Bucky exhale heavily and close the little distance he had managed to create between himself and her. He gingerly placed his hand on her back, gently running it up and down; trying to console her but the look on his face almost killed you. You genuinely had to place a hand over your mouth to stop your pealing laughter from escaping.

Bucky’s face was scrounged up, expressing his discomfort. His body language screamed that he really didn’t know what to do; he stood a little further from her than was social convention and he held his left hand in mid-air, not really sure what to do with it. At this point Steve had made it back to your side, quickly finding the source of your delight and looking on with an amused smile.

Finally the door opened and the tarmac made itself visible. FBI agents stood by the jet, waiting for the team to descend. You turned to follow Steve out, but turned around at the last minute and walked over to Bucky, a spring in your step. He looked so confused, and just entirely overwhelmed that you almost felt sorry for him but then again he’d brought this on himself.

You took his still suspended metal hand in yours; shaking it firmly while looking him straight into the eyes before you muttered the words you’d been planning to say for the last 45 minutes.

“Congratulations, you played yourself.” You said with a pleasant smile on your face, Bucky looking confused at your words. You strutted off the jet to join Steve, intent on hearing his freestyle speech.

Somewhere in the distance you heard Sam cackle.

Tags:

@skeletoresinthebasement

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #my writing

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purplesurveys · 6 years ago

Text

444

What may we call you?: Robyn is fine.

When can we send you a birthday card? (Figuratively, of course.): April 21st.

And, where are you calling from? (Again, figuratively.): Somewhere in the Philippines, but you don’t need to know the details.

What is your favorite Hostess/Little Debbie snack?: I only know Twinkies and I loved it the one time I tried some, so I guess that would be my default favorite?

Do you/your family buy loaf from the bakery or bagged on the shelf?: Always bagged. There aren’t any bakeries nearby, and the brand we buy from is already good anyway.

White, wheat or other?: White, I don’t think I eat any other type.

Have you ever fixed something without knowing just how you did it?: I’m sure I’ve done it a few times before, I just can’t give specific cases right now.

Do store brands actually taste the same?: I don’t know about the States, but local store brands are usually suckier so we never buy those.

Quick! Grab the closest book to you, open to page 5 and type the first line: I don’t have any book nearby, I’m in a coffee shop and I just brought my laptop :/

What was the last non-fiction book you’ve read? (Not a school textbook!): Oh I have no idea. Probably AJ’s autobiography, which I never get tired of reading.

Do you make surveys or just take them?: Just take them. I’m not ~creative enough to come up with new random questions that no one has encountered before.

When was the last time you were on a plane?: February or Marchish this year, I don’t actually remember since this semester was such a blur.

Where were you going and why?: We went to a small island down south. Went to the beach and stuff. Family vacation.

What’s the best news you’ve gotten lately?: I passed my econ class. It’s my lowest grade so far in my time in university, but at least I didn’t fail and at least I don’t have to redo the course.

^And, the worst?: Someone I know’s thesis has not been approved and he might not graduate this semester.

How is 2010 treating you so far, anyway?: Wow, a 9 year old survey. Life was shit at the time uhhhhhh no friends, peak loneliness, hated by family. Plus I was 12 and puberty hormones were raging. I was just mad at the world.

If you could invent something, what would it be?: I was just telling Gabie that I wanted a tumbler that was able to hold two drinks haha. I had the idea because I brought the equivalent of two cups of coffee in my tumbler to school once, but my chest started to hurt and there was nowhere to drink water so I was stuck with a pounding chest and palpitating hands for my classes.

Tell me about your favorite pair of pants.: They’re kinda high-waist, ripped, mom jeans. It’s super casual and matches with any top.

Do you like getting dressed up?: It’s always a good idea!

Would you rather receive (or give) flowers, chocolates or jewelry?: Any of these would be nice so long as it was sincere.

Do you drink Vitamin Water?: Nope.

^If yes, what flavor is your favorite?:

What color are your headphones/earbuds?: I lost my earphones like 8 months ago :( They were white.

Is your technology up to date?: I think so. My laptop is a little old but it’s still working fine; and I think an iPhone 8 can still be considered pretty recent.

Ever been stuck next to someone really annoying on a LONG plane/train ride?: I wouldn’t call it annoying but the last time I was on a plane, the guy beside me was asleep from boarding to touchdown. He was snoring the whole time, too. It was super distracting and kept me from just having a peaceful flight.

What sound just drives you crazy?: When metal utensils scrape against a plate, or against each other.

Would you be embarrassed to find out you snored loudly in public?: Yes I think so. I get embarrassed when I wake myself up snoring lmaoaoaoo so it’d be worse if I did it in public and someone else had to point it out to me.

Do you embarrass easily?: Y E S

Why were you embarrassed last?: Gabie paid for dinner tonight because I had no money left for the week.

Are you afraid of heights?: Not really. I find it cool to be seeing so much stuff from the top.

What is a compliment you get most often?: Either on my work ethic or my skin.

Tell me about the last frightening/weird dream you had.: We were stuck in a classroom being held hostage by the military, who were all just surrounded outside the room with guns, ready to shoot. All the lights were out and we were trying to stay as quiet as we can so that we don’t provoke the people with the guns.

Now, about the last pleasant dream you had.: I don’t remember; I usually forget the dreams that aren’t scary.

Do you feel guilty about killing bugs?: No. I hate bugs. Sorry, I know it makes me a bad animal lover, but almost all the bugs in the Philippines are fucking pests so I’ve grown to hate them.

If there is a spider in your room, will you be up all night knowing that?: Nah, I’d ask my mom to kill it.

Is there a trait typical to your gender that doesn’t apply to you?: I dunno...I hate wearing makeup? This is generalizing though, so I don’t know how to answer this properly.

How do you feel about coconut?: I only love coconut milk in my soups. Otherwise, I’ve always found coconut to be weird-tasting; plus I hate the weird crunchy texture of it.

^ Ever cracked one open?: Nope. But I honestly should have done so at least once being that the Philippines is rich in coconuts lol.

If you like someone, what do you do?: Listen to them; find out the things they like and strike up a conversation with them.

If you DON’T like someone, what do you do?: Ignore them for the most part.

What do you feel most insecure about?: Hahahahaha, doing anything that requires me to be creative. Poster-making, conceptualizing ads, making sketches...I always pass them off to someone who can make them better than I could.

Crash into water or an open field? D:: Both hurt like hell...can I opt not to crash at all?

What’s the best thing about being your gender?: Periods will always be a guilt-free reason to eat whatever the fuck we want. ^ And the worst thing?: Men.

Do you do your part to save the earth?: Yesssss I always try to do my part.

Does it ROYALLY piss you off when your intended username is already taken?: Well it’s never happened to me since my default username (I’ve been using it since 2010-ish I think) is pretty unique.

What color do you wear most often?: Black or white. For sure.

What’s the most you’ve spent on a pair of sunglasses?: I don’t really like sunglasses.

^Or, ladies, what about a purse?: I’m not into spoiling myself with girl stuff like purse or bags. The only purse I own was a gift from family in the States.

Actually, what’s the most expensive clothing item/accessory you own?: Probably one of my shoes.

Who do you think should have their portrait on a bill?: Ramon Magsaysay.

What is your favorite spoken language to listen to?: Spanish and deep Filipino.

How long until you turn 40?: 19.

#survey #surveys

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specialagentfluffstein · 7 years ago

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good morning cute and sort of mysterious lady. ALL THE QUESTIONS PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

Good afternoon enthused and sort of mysterious new friend! Here all the questions.

1. Do youbite or lick ice cream? Neither. I use a spoon because ice cream is so damn messy.

2. What ishome to you? Wherever my record player is.

3. What wasthe last lie you told? That I definitely had a great time at someone’s birthday party.

4. Doeseveryone deserve the truth? In the end, yes.

5. What isthe creepiest toy ever made? Kewpie dolls.

6. Describea moment in which you did something unacceptable in a bad situation. Encouraged an officer to let me stay late and help with a holdover shift, even though explorers are supposed to get dumped off after twelve hours.

7. List twothings that are more easily done than said. (No, I didn’t mix them up.) Opening the door to the backlot outbuilding garage and unlocking the Bearcat G3; Running an ID card over tac two on a felony stop with multiple subjects.

8. When wasthe last time you worked really hard to achieve something? Getting to the place where I could graduate a semester early.

9. How manyall nighters have you pulled? I’ve seen my share of Graves.

10. Ifhumans didn’t evolve to laugh or smile, how would we express our happinessinstead? Probably through other verbal indications and physical expressions.

11. How manyromantic “things” or “flings” have you had? Enough to know what I’m not looking for.

12. What isyour paradise? unlimited access to media - e.g. music, movies, tv, books, etc. and a comfy place to listen/watch/read

13. What isyour favorite background noise? (Ex. Water dripping, people talking.) Fancy restaurants or reruns of television shows.

14. How manyhearts do you think you have broken? Probably quite a few. At least four in the past two years.

15. What isthe most important thing about electronics? What does this say about you? That they can handle multiple things at once. It says that I am a multitasker.

16. Why dopeople care about celebrities? Do you care about celebrities? Because sometimes it’s nice to escape to a world where the only real problems are botched nose jobs and whether or not someone should have worn something. I care in that I’ve got my favorite celeb crushes (Hi, Alexander Skarsgard!)

17. What isthe most annoying thing someone can do to you? Act like they know what they’re doing when they obviously don’t. Also act like I can’t do something because I’m a girl.

18. Do youoverexaggerate? What are the pros and cons of this? not really. I tend to encounter so much weirdness that I don’t have to. Pros: I’m a good story teller. Cons: people sometimes think I am exaggerating.

19. Have youplayed any instruments before? Which instruments? I can play three elvis songs on the piano.

20. Do youlike taking selfies? Why or why not? Yup! Because I’m self centered as hell.

21. List 3things you like about yourself? 1. Great hair; 2. Smart; 3. Loud.

22. What isthe best advice someone has ever given you? “If the worst thing that happens today is that you mess up on the radio, it’s been a good day.”

23. Do youhave what it takes to raise a child? Why or why not? Yeah not a big fan of small children.

24. How doyou cheer yourself up after a bad day? Television.

25. When wasthe last time you felt awkward? Truly awkward? I somehow ended up sitting in on a male officers yearly physical exam results last year, because no one thought to leave the female explorer in the waiting room or make her wait in the hall. Homeboy was in prime health though.

26. Are youintroverted or extroverted? Or a mixture of both? definitely an extrovert.

27. Whatconstitutes a good friend? Being invested, but not clingy.

28. Wouldyou rather have a lot of friends to hang out with or just one best friend? Depends. I have a super ultra best friend, but I also will talk to anything that moves, so I generally need to be around people.

29. In aregular day, what do you not want to hear? “How will the detectives/officers/males in general be able to get any work done with you looking so cute?”

30. What isyour dream job? FBI SWAT Medic or Television critic

31. Is itbetter to be lazy but smart or hardworking but unintelligent? The former.

32. What isa truth about yourself that others find hard to believe? I graduated high school at sixteen and I’ll have my bachelor’s at twenty.

33. Whathave you always wondered about the other gender? Does the penis bounce around when you run/go up stairs/move in general like breasts do?

34. Whichfantasy world would you like to visit the most? Does Bludhaven count? Because I’m totally down to be a cop with Dick Grayson.

35. Describethe worst friend you have ever befriended. I tend to inadvertently pick up cling-ons, so I spend a lot of time trying to look like I really have to be somewhere on campus whenever I see someone who thinks we’re besties.

36. Imaginethat you have switched bodies with someone you don’t know. You can’t switchback. What do you do? Are you sure I can’t switch back? Because I think I might be hunting down shadowman and making him change me back.

37. If youfound the recipe for immortality, would you sell it or would you burn it? Is keep it for my own personal gain an option? Can I develop it into a serum of sorts to deal with life-threatening illnesses and injuries?

38. What isthe most important, applicable class you have ever taken? Statistics in high school and First Responder. I am so good at calling 911.

39. Name thelast book you read. One Bullet Away by Nathaniel Fick.

40. Imaginethat you are unable to express emotion. How would this affect your world? Ha! Jokes on you I’m already an ice queen with no feelings!

41. When wasthe last time you made the first move? Last spring, on the hot Marine in my advanced nonfiction class. Got his number and everything.

42. What isyour opinion on electronic music such as dubstep or trap? I like Deee-Lite, does that count?

43. What wasthe last movie you watched? Blue Ridge Fall. Chris Isaak is great.

44. Do youlike and appreciate your life? I do.

45. Do youlike and appreciate yourself? I do.

46. When wasthe last time you cried? ???? Good question.

47. What areyou scared of? Not a huge fan of fire.

48. What isthe most embarrassing, cringe-worthy thing you have ever done? same story as last time.

49. What aresome of your hobbies? I knit! I’m working on a shawl right now.

50. What isa superficial yet annoying mistake you constantly make? Confusing the boxes on J4 (paperwork) because I’m not paying attention.

51. Are youa good friend? What makes you a good friend? If not, what makes you a badfriend? I think I’m a good friend. I’m pretty loyal once I think you’ve earned it.

52. Do youhonestly learn from your mistakes? Yes. At least I try.

53. Whathave you learned the hard way? The running boards/ any protruding edge on SWAT trucks are not fun to collide with.

54. What isthe most important thing to have in order to attain happiness? A Happy outlook.

55. Whichmedium do you use for expressing your artistic emotions? (Singing, writing,etc.) I write, and I like to sing in my car, and I knit.

56. Are youa creative or a logical thinker? I’m logically creative.

57. What isthe smartest thing you have ever done? Bought a unique antenna ball. I always know which white four door sedan is mine.

58. What isyour ideal meal? Sushi. or any meal shared with people who make me laugh.

59. What isthe worst thing someone could do on a date? Say “I hate cops” and/or hold me vaguely hostage for ten hours.

60. Do youlike animals? Which kind is your favorite? Can I say Porgs? Does that count? I also like doggos.

61. If youcould turn one legal thing illegal, what would it be? Riding your bike on the sidewalks around campus.

62. Do youhave any guilty pleasures? Bad television.

63. What isthe best thing that the internet has ever created? Dog videos. And the ability to look things up in seconds.

64. Do youlike playing video games? Which video games? Uhhhh I still play the nintendo ds lego games. I like the batman one.

65. What isyour opinion on beauty in today’s society? It’s so unique! Like there are so many ways to be beautiful even on just a superficial level.

66. Are youa morning person? When do you usually wake up? Yes! I try to be up and moving by 8am.

67. Do youhave a favorite Disney movie? Character? either Sleeping Beauty or The Princess and the Frog. I love love love Judy Hopps from Zootopia and I’m quite partial to Prince Phillip.

68. Wouldyou rather live in the city or in the countryside? 110% City Girl.

69. Wouldyou rather live near the ocean or in the mountains? Ocean.

70. What arethe best things about winter? Sweaters and cocoa and fluffy things.

71. Whatscares you most about the future? That I don’t know who will be there with me.

72. Whatmakes you feel old? Being around fourteen-year-old explorers.

73. How manyhours do you spend on the computer or phone on average? five? more if I have a lot of homework?

74. What aresome of your New Year’s resolutions? I don’t resolutions so much as goals. I’ve met most of them.

75. What isyour life story in 6 words? Why is this happening to me?

76. Describeyourself in one word. Loud

77. What badhabits do you do? Obsessive gum chewer.

78. Whatgenre of music do you listen to? A wide range of stuff. I’m really into Opera and Choral right now, but I’ve also listened to “Southern Nights” and “American Girl” on repeat today.

79. Mostprominent childhood memory? Sunday Dinners with my family.

80. Imagineif you had an older brother. If you already have one, what is it like? If youdon’t, how would this change your life? I wouldn’t be the oldest, which means I couldn’t pull the oldest child card.

81. Spiritanimal? Grizzly Bear

82. Do youbelieve in horoscopes? Sometimes.

83. What isthe worst advice you’ve ever been given? any variation on “let things come to you”

84. List the3 most important people in your life right now. Sister, Mom, BFFL.

85. Favoritememory of your family. The last time my uncle came and visited.

86. What doyou look for in a relationship? Being treated with respect. Also a uniform (especially a USMC one) doesn’t hurt, but it’s not a deal breaker.

87. Do youhave a role model? Why or why not? Yeah! But it’s more like I like the way people act or do things and I adopt those traits and things.

88. What isyour opinion on social media? A good way to fuel the mild narcissism I try to keep quiet. Also good for amateur detective work.

89. Are youa pessimist or an optimist? Aggressively optimistic.

90. Listsome things that you think are overpriced? FEMALE TACTICAL ANYTHING.

91. What isyour worst memory or creepiest experience? Sixteenth Birthday.

92. Whatsuperpower would ruin the world? Invisibility.

93. What issomething you swore you would never do when you grew up, but you did anyway? Go to college in my hometown.

94. Whatlessons have you learned from movies and which movies were they? You can be both a princess and a total badass (Star Wars); It doesn’t matter where you came from, you can be a hero/achieve your dreams/make things better (Pretty much all of the Disney movies). Ohana isn’t necessarily the people you’re related to (Lilo and Stitch).

95. If youcould travel anywhere, where would you go? Right now? Disneyland Paris.

96. How doyou approach people? Confidently.

97. What isyour opinion on first impressions? Usually pretty accurate, barring some wild exigent circumstances.

98. What aresome things you did as a child that you no longer do? Wear frosted lip gloss.

99. Whatlanguages can you speak? English, Spanish, Regional Law Enforcement, and I’ve got a basic understanding of Old English.

100. What doyou think society will be like in 30 years? Better.

101. What doyou do on your lazy days? Watch TV.

102. Whatended your last relationship? A move to Colorado.

103.Favorite food? Sushi. and Pizza.

104. What isthe most terrifying dream you’ve ever had? I dreamed I was living on a house boat and I was pregnant. I woke up terrified and thinking ‘How am I going to be a cop if I’m pregnant?!’

105. Whenwas the last time you got seriously angry? Anytime my co-lieutenant does anything.

106. Whatwas the last friendship you broke? I’m not really sure. I try not to burn bridges.

107. Do youhave any pet peeves? Wrinkled clothes and mismatched socks.

108. Who wasthe last person you gave a hug to? My sister?

109. Whenwas the last time you got seriously stressed? Trying to finish a profile for my nonfiction class last month.

110. Whatpart of your personality do you want to change? I can be a little cold.

111. Who isthe most positively influential person in your life right now? One of the detectives I work with.

112. What isyour biggest motivation? Fear of failure.

113. Whatdid you want to be when you were little? A Triple Threat.

114. Whatare some things that you are good at? Knitting, being the cutest explorer, making breakfast foods, basic makeup.

115. What isone thing you want to be good at? winged eyeliner.

116. Whatdistracts you the most, especially when you’re trying to work? My sister. In the best way, though, She’s always sending me silly memes or dog pics.

117. Howimportant is privacy to you? Really important.

118. If youcould create one social norm, what would it be? Disney music being acceptable on the radio.

119. What’sthe craziest lie you’ve ever told? I once convinced a boy scout troop that I was British.

120. Whatstory do you like to tell about yourself at parties? I like telling the story about the time a guy shoved meth up his butt in the back of the squad car I was riding in on a ride along. It’s a crowd pleaser for sure.

121. What isthe lamest thing that you have seen someone do? Tell a class that he enjoyed going to the gym as his icebreaker fun fact.

122. What isthe stupidest thing you’ve done to impress someone? Gave him a bunch of Junior Officer stickers. (it worked, though)

123. What isyour morning routine? Tumble out of bed, stumble to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition.

124. What’sthe last thing you did that is worth remembering? I bought some professional clothes beyond just a white button up and black pencil skirt.

125. Ifkarma was coming back to you, would it help or hurt you? I think it would help.

126. What isyour opinion on playing “hard to get?” You should probably just be straight with people.

127. Whatare the pros and cons of straightforward? Pros: no bullshit! Cons: People think you are “scary” or “brash.”

128. What doyou consider “leading” someone on? Lying about your intentions.

129. Are youthe friendzoner or the friendzoned? I’ve been both.

130. What doyou admire most about your friends? They are so kind.

131. What doyou admire most about your family? We are a resourceful and resilient bunch.

132. What isyour opinion on “going with the flow?” Something I have to work on.

133. Do youenjoy talking or listening? Both.

134. When isit time to end a friendship? When it’s unhealthy for either party.

135. What isthe worst excuse you’ve ever come up with? “My mom won’t let me give my phone number out” I was fifteen.

136. If GPAdidn’t matter, what courses would you have taken? More science and physics classes. And theatre. And art. And writing classes.

137. Whatare your favorite baby names? my current favorite baby is named Finley…

138. Whenwas the last time you had a deep conversation with someone? I talked with a detective about some of my ambitions.

139. Whatinstantly ruins a conversation? Felony Tones (ha) and ignorance.

140. Biggestturn ons and turn on offs. On - Nice smiles; Off - “You’re too pretty to be a cop”

141. Biggestdisappointment - Not making Captain.

142. Do youhave any self-restraint? Yes, unless it is with puppies and then no.

143. Whendid you last do something outside of your comfort zone? I did something with the permission of one advisor and his supervisor that was in direct opposition to what my main advisor wanted. It worked out in my favor though.

144. Prizedpossession(s)? Four gold medals from competing in SkillsUSA in high school, some photo boxes, my record collection, my playing card collection.

145. What isyour opinion on second chances? Okay when they are truly deserved.

146. Text orcall? Text. Or call. Whatever. I’ll likely ignore you either way.

147. What doyou like about the 21st century? I am not socially obligated to wear a skirt if I don’t want to.

148. Whatadvice would you give to yourself 5 years ago? It’s okay to change your mind. Do what’s going to make you happy. Kiss that boy.

149. Howorganized are you? Pretty organized, when I have time to sit and organize.

150.Favorite mode of transportation. Bearcat G3.

Thanks for being nosy!

#fluffy answers

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