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variousqueerthings · 5 months

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according to letterboxd i've watched 261 films this year (not counting un-logged films and the couple of weeks left to go)

so despite being tripped up in my plans by suddenly speedrunning doctor who these last couple of months, it's not been a bad year on the whole:

watched my first horror exploitation films -- "cannibal holocaust" and "last house on the left." I cannot say this genre will ever be a favourite, but there is a fascination to the uncomfortable feeling of realism in both of these

overall I watched much less horror this year, partially because I spent october travelling, so didn't do my usual one-per-day themed watch. out of these "lair of the white worm," (generally want to go down more of a ken russell rabbithole next year) "ravenous," (the best cannibal film that nobody's ever seen) and "nightbreed" (the other clive barker directed, which, listen, it may have flaws but it doesn't I tell you, this is a perfect movie!!!) stood out the most, but was also positively surprised by both "return of the living dead" (which, yes, was schlock, but very enjoyable schlock) and "the ritual" (I was expecting to like the ritual, but not for it to feel incredibly personal somehow -- the underrated of the two horrors I know of about english-speaking tourists with trauma trying to recover in the swedish wilderness, by far my favourite!)

also, finally watched the original "the exorcist" which... argh, you know when people say "this thing is really good" and you go sureeeee whatever, it's ruined by the hype and the way you talk about it makes me think I'm not gonna like it, and then you watch it and it's really good dammit!

also, i was convinced I watched "nope" last year, but it may be this year. I watched it three times this year, and I didn't log it last, so that means I get to go ohhhhh "nope" is just a movie of all time, it deserves the future cult status it's gonna have, I've been yelling about it with @le-red-queen because finally finally someone I know has also watched it why does it feel like my friends are sleeping on this film????

also! "prey"!!!!! ohhhhh the future of horror looks bright! my favourite predator film, including the first one. it made my brain buzz, it was beautiful, it's incredibly blunt statement that the predator is barely a threat compared to rapidly expanding colonialism, the lead's journey is stellar and painful and punch-the-air and... great film

I got to spend a lot of january watching a film festival that centred on movies by indigenous people "from Turtle Island and around the world" (as it says on the website -- definitely and understandably mainly around america and canada). favourite of these was "honey moccasin" a fascinating little comedy movie that maybe predictably hooked me because it also had a queer focus within its portrayal of community

also at a local queer film festival, got to see "wildhood" a movie about a gay multiethnic mi’kmaw teen, who goes on a roadtrip looking for his mother -- think this is probably one that would be difficult to find otherwise, so youknow... check out local film festivals you never know what you'll see!

have gone on several rambles about "great freedom" and "joyland," movies that I watched relatively close together that have basically haunted me all year, acting as comparisons to nearly everything else I've seen -- think they've put ideas about queer stories in my head that are exemplified in a lot of queer writing and avant garde film-making, but often isn't seen on such a big scale, budget and quality-wise (this not to say the small-budget films are less worthy, it was just a bit heady to get to see these two and be blown over by their largeness). also something about a film that takes place in post-wwii germany and a film that takes place in modern-day pakistan feeling like they belong together to me. they're thematic, philosophical, political kin

got to go deeper into todd haynes, with "safe" and "poison" (yes yes we're super late to the todd haynes dive, but sometimes you just want to rewatch velvet goldmine a million times forever, so it takes you awhile to get to his other greatest hits). very excited to watch his latest film, sad i can't see it in theatres

watched quite a few queer documentaries, including "lotus sports club" (about a football club in indonesia run by a trans man, that provides a safe place to lesbians and trans boys), "you don't know dick" (interviews with trans men in the 90s), rose von praunheim's "transexual menace" (a sprawling, seemingly random depiction of trans people in the US -- a million amazing portraits), and "kokomo city" (a documentary about black trans women sex workers, directed by d smith, who is herself a black trans woman, music producer, excellent writer -- the way this movie is edited is so Vivid and you can tell there's so much freedom to really say things than in work that isn't community led. the philosophy, the politics, chatting while in the bath, that familiarity, that openness!)

in more classic musical news, got to see "the court jester" (only mildly a musical), "on the town" and its thematic successor "it's always fair weather," (gene kelly on rollerskates), and fiddler on the roof (finally) -- enjoyed all of them! shockingly low on musicals this year, but I intend to get inspired by @fabiansociety's list for the upcoming one

a few surprises for me were "streets of fire," which I've become mildly obsessed with, for being simply The Coolest Film you never watched as a kid (baby willem dafoe biker gang leader + music written by the guy who wrote for meatloaf and fleetwood mac??) it's just a straightup good time and also did this thing of writing a male role, casting a woman in it, and accidentally giving us a butch lesbian (with a line to make it seem like she had a boyfriend one time, but like... that doesn't take away her butch cred),

and also scorsese's "kundun," which I had no idea what to make of, because it didn't feel like a scorsese film at all. I think I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with scorsese in that I think his movies are frequently gorgeous, but his focus is almost always to the left of the people that interest me (that is, everyone around the white guys with guns who yell a lot). kundun is about the dalai lama and it is. very very anti-violence in its depiction of the invasion of tibet, because the POV is a pacifist who's shielded from seeing the violence, so the three scenes that briefly depict it are all the more shocking. and like... scorsese seems to have been coming at this movie from the perspective of education/plea for the freeing of tibet? which, yay, but... unexpected movie, that is all. also they speak english, although the actors are tibetan, including the grand nephew of the dalai lama portraying the dalai lama (I think this movie shouldn't be in english, but that is very cool). strange film, definitely watched a bootleg dvd copy with a completely wack aspect ratio that I couldn't format on the screen, but sometimes that's how you've gotta see something

a few classics. saw "jeanne dielman" for the first time, then utterly failed to describe it for everyone I talked about it with. I feel like saying "three hour long movie about a woman's repetitive life that is slowly, but surely, about to explode" is... idk, maybe it's going too much into detail. pointing out the static camera, the near-lack of dialogue, the scenes that simply consist of her sitting, and people instinctively go "oh that's a gimmick." but I also think if one can herald something like "orphee" or anything bergman did or "stalker," then this is not so off-putting (I found stalker to be a lot harder to focus on actually, which surprised me considering its subject matter). I know a lot smarter people than me have pointed out that what may truly be disturbing to people is the fact that we're following a life in such detail that isn't considered a valuable/interesting life to follow, especially not for so long. and that is... well that is just our internalised sexism. it's a good movie

this turned out quite long, but wanted to sit with some of these movies for a bit. I'd rec all of them, depending on personal preference and limitations

#i think next year.... well i have a list ofc so there's the list #but specifically east and south asian cinema was quite lacking this year #watched a few favourites + another wong kar wai + joyland but i didnt go as deep as id have wanted to #and then also musicals would be nice #death in the gunj im still gonna see if i can get in this year #there's a few films that also really sat with me that i havent mentioned here because... idk.... indescribable feelings #i also had a point for truffaut but tumblr decided to cut me off after 14 for some reason? wouldn't let me hit post on anything longer so 😂#400 blows and small change were the ones -- movies with a focus on children's rights #literally wouldn't let me write any more within the points either... this is new...#cinema #film #queer cinema #me

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5s-missing-eye · 1 year

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Small rant about Lorien Legacies and stuff bc I wanna get it off my chest

I first heard about this series in like 2015 when I watched the movie with my dad and brother. I really liked the plot but I didn't know the books existed so I just kinda forgot about it.

Fast forward to 2017/2018 when I watched the movie again and I loved it sm but I didn't look it up any further bc I was stupid.

Then a few months later I was at my local library searching the science fiction section for something to read. And what do I see there? The mf ian4 book. I immediately remembered the movie and thought "well if I liked the movie I will love the book." I was right bc my 12 year old self was so happy with it. That book was my escape from all of the other bullshit that was happening in my life. My childhood best friend had just moved away to Germany and my friend group fell apart, leaving me lonelier than ever. Adding to that, my parents never took me seriously so I couldn't talk to them about any of that.

After reading ian4 in less than a week I borrowed po6 and fell in love with the series even more. The books made me feel special. And they made me feel like I'm not alone. Like there are people in the world just waiting to meet me and be my friends. I always felt like an outsider at my school and this series made it feel like a blessing rather than a curse. Marina and Six meeting up felt like a sign that someone is eventually going to save me from everything like Six "saved" Marina.

When I went back to the library to borrow ro9 I found out that it wasn't translated to my language. That made me a little sad but I knew I would find a way to read it. I didn't really know about pirating back then so when I found pirating sites it was like I was discovering a whole new part of the Internet. I would've ordered the books online but most of the time they're sent from the USA and the shipping is wayyyyyy too expensive. My english wasn't the best back then but I was fluent enough to read the books.

I remember thinking we would meet all of the Garde while reading ro9. I was so excited for Five bc that was my favourite number at the time. So ofc I was a little disappointed when I finished the book and Five was nowhere to be found. But that's what made him even better for me.

It felt like he was left out of everything interesting and he was missing out on bonding with the rest of the Garde. Then I looked him up and got Eight's death spoiled. I didn't really know how to feel about that so I just went to read the next book to finally meet Five.

Tfo5 made me hate Sam bc his pov is so annoying. He always has something to say even if it was uncalled for. He was so rude to Five for no reason (just like everyone else). Five is so awkward in this book and that made me fall in love with him. I love awkward characters bc they remind me of me. Five stood out to me even more than anyone else tho. It is so obvious that the authors wanted us to hate Five but he was so relatable to me that I couldn't hate him. I sometimes feel like we're the same person. I felt awful when Eight died obviously but I felt even worse for Five. He was manipulated and he was brainwashed. It wasn't his fault. He never wanted anyone to get hurt he literally wanted to protect them. But in the end it seems like anything he does just hurts others more.

I don't really have anything interesting to say about the other books. I hated how everyone treated Five with 0 sympathy. He deserved better. It was kinda obvious in Fugitive Six that it was him working with Einar. I was glad to see him actually having friends and hanging out with people the way he was supposed to with the Garde.

It's sad that he always knew he wouldn't get along with the Garde. It must've been horrible to see his worst fear coming to life. I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything is gonna be okay :((

I don't know what to say about rtz. The authors didn't even bother to write about the Garde getting a new scar after his death. Nor did they give us any hints that he might be alive. It's like they just wanted to get rid of him so they don't have to write about him anymore.

I think I read the novellas after the main series. I read Five's Legacy first (obviously). It just made me love him even more. He's literally perfect in every way. I just wish he was a little more appreciated in the series.

#this is more about five tbh but whatever #sad stuff #rant #FIVE DESERVED BETTER #i was bored so i wrote this #lorien legacies #i didn't read this after writing it so there might be mistakes #im sorry about that

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hiveswap · 8 months

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Ok sorry to do this again despite admitting I don't know shit the first time (I'm the "isn't it both" anon) but I had some more thoughts.

So, even tho being ex eastern bloc is defo relevant for certain analyses of current situations, I don't think it should play too hard into tryna determine whether a country you aren't from can be considered eastern Europe (tho i think it's valid to bring into it if it's about your own country probably? I am not a politically versed person) and one of the reasons I say this is that my mum is from Saxony which was part of the GDR.

The family had been preparing to leave for years and eventually did so a few months before reunification (kinda hilarious tbh) and I myself grew up in (former) western germany (tho i was born years after reuni anyway) so I never lived in the GDR or even in any former GDR states myself but my mother has always shared a lot of stories but that's besides the point.

And like... nobody is calling the ex GDR states (let alone germany as a whole) eastern Europe. There's even ppl who consider us western Europe (I think we're pretty firmly central but tbh western vs central as a distinction isn't as important (bc I do know central vs eastern carries a lot more weight n stuff) so I don't really care) despite part of our country having been eastern bloc. So when people (specifically non ex eastern bloc folks, you're obviously fine) use it as an argument it feels hypocritical.

And obviously ex GDR states had the support of other german states so it was much easier for them to recover but imo the modern day economics are way closer to helping determine whether a country is eastern Europe? Not geographically obvs but in my mind (feel free to correct me) eastern european is kinda like asian in that it shouldn't be an important distinction going by geography but in terms of politics and dynamics and stuff it very much is and it matters.

Like, eastern europeans, at least within Europe, dunno how true it is elsewhere, are kinda oppressed? Like, if I meet a western european (esp an english person) they're prolly not gonna be xenophobic to me when I tell them where I'm from but if I was like Belarusian or something, they might. And then there's the economic stuff and also like social progression.

I've heard a lot about eg LGBT rights in Hungary and stuff like that and no shade or anything ofc, especially to the LGBT ppl living there such as (i think?) yourself and the other Hungarians I follow, but it does feel a lot less progressive.

Things aren't perfect here either or anything but they're getting better, we've had marriage equality for same sex couples (not (all) nb or intersex ppl tho) for over half a decade, forced trans sterilisation was declared unconstitutional 12 years ago and we're finally getting that self-determination bill put into place next year and then I can get that d. D stands for diverse in this case, it's our third legal gender (tho we also have "none", none gender can't get married)

Meanwhile transitioning in Hungary was outlawed three years ago and there's plenty of other countries where it's still a struggle and all in all it just feels kinda... distinct? Like how scandinavian (or nordic in general) countries feel like they're on a different economic and societal level from us(excl), the latter especially in regards to sexism, education and incarceration but also other stuff.

Obvs there's always so many factors but it's always felt to me like they were, forgive me for simplifying, the "higher" tier of europeans in at least those areas compared to my life in central Europe. Grass is always greener somewhere I guess. But I'm gonna get back on track.

So even tho geographically it's hard to argue that Hungary isn't central Europe, I think it might be politically. And it's not the only country that feels like this to me, like eg Romania is geographically southeast but politically I personally view it as firmly eastern tho obvs I'm no authority.

Anyway, sorry this got so long lmao I have not been awake for long yet and my brain's a little squished lol. Hope this wasn't a completely useless read, sorry if it was. Keep on keeping on 👍

Oh hi i got scared for a sec when i saw that i got a whole block of text. I'm not really up to politics talk rn, but what you're saying makes a lot of sense to me!! Though i havent seen anyone consider romania central before, i've always thought of the border between us as the edge of central europe. Probably because of the timezone difference ngl

#asks #ask

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robinsnest2111 · 1 year

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the special edition kiss magazine has an ad for the 5 shows they're gonna do in Germany next month. and there are still tickets available for all 5 shows. and it'd be the very last time I'd get the chance to see them.

my rational brain says I should Not spend 200+ bucks on tickets and travel expenses and merch but my kiss loving brain says ONCE IN A LIFETIME BROTHER GET ON IT

#the decision would be easier to make if i hadnt already planned the def leppard/motley crue thing which will be 150 bucks #why must they all show up in june 😭#why must i love the music of such successful and established bands who do elaborate shows and ask massive ticket prices ugh #anyway. still got a couple days to decide if i should be irrational or not :')

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apersonwholikeslotus · 1 year

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Do you have any hcs for other misc grandkids of Germania ?

Hey anon, sorry this has taken me 3 days. I wasn't sure exactly what you meant but this so I have not one, but two forms of answer for you.

Answer 1. All of Germania's grandkids (in age order, including human names, and parent [that is Germania's kid])

Shetland - Fiona (Norway)

Orkney - Bodil (Norway)

Faroe - Ida (Norway)

Caithness - Ailsa (Norway)

Iceland - Ari (Norway)

Greenland - Aputsiak 'Sia' (Norway)

Vinland - Dagny [deceased] (Norway)

Åland - Kirsi (Sweden)

Kalmar Union - Karl [deceased] (Denmark)

Canada - Mathieu (England)

USA - Alfred (England)

New Netherlands - Otto [deceased] (Netherlands)

New Sweden - Johan [deceased] (Sweden)

Liechtenstein - Liesl (Austria)

Australia - Jack (England)

Germany - Ludwig (Austria/Prussia)

Luxembourg - Henri (Belgium)

New Zealand - Liam (England)

Austria-Hungary - Edith [deceased] (Austria)

Sealand - Peter (England)

Freetown Christiania - Benedikte (Denmark)

Kugelmugel - Franz (Austria)

Ladonia - Arvid (Sweden)

(there are definitely more that could be in this list but for now they're who I have)

Answer 2. actual hc, about them interacting with each other.

Tbh its a good thing Germania isn't alive, bc sleepovers at grandpas would be insane with this group.

You know how with cousins there is absolutely the age gap groups? The group that gets to sit at the adult table first vs the group that's gonna be at the kids table for the next decade?

group 1 is Fiona to Dagny

group 2 is Mathieu to Liesl

group 3 is Jack to Edith

and group 4 is Peter to Arvid

Karl and Kirsi got to be their own group :p (too young for the viking age cousins, too old for the America's cousins (and brother))

they have a stupid tradition when they play board games at family reunions to leave 5 extra settings(?) for the game out.

They throw stuff at each other at UN meetings.

Half of them don't understand each other even if they're all speaking the same language. (Henri stopped trying to understand a single word from Jack years ago)

Because of travel and stuff they didn't see each other regularly until like 50 years ago.

Now they rarely go 2 months without a full blown get together.

Norways kids, so Fiona to Sia, claim absolute reign as the eldest kid :)

The elders have gotten in trouble multiple times for sneaking the youngers out

Benedikte technically only has one older sibling, and Karl is obviously not around anymore. So Norways kids are basically her surrogate siblings <3

Henri! is the only only child in the group! He's got only child habits! his cousins are hellbent on getting rid of those!

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tabithwaslost · 1 year

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Defendant Klavier

Turnabout of The Star

Day 1.

Rayfa, knocking on Apollo's office door:

"HORN HEAD! YOU HAVE A VISITOR!"

Apollo, in the inside had a lot of paperwork to get done. He was pretty shocked upon hearing the fact that he had a visitor instead of a client.

Apollo: "Let them come in."

Rayfa let the visitor come in, to Apollo's surprise it was a certain blonde, German rockstar.

Klavier walked in grinning ear to ear and immediately called out to apollo saying:

"Herr Forehead! It's been a while!"

Apollo: "Klavier..? Weren't you in Germany..?"

Klavier: "Ja, but I just thought I'd come by to visit you. I miss you!"

Apollo: "That's nice, Klavier... But I have some work to do."

Klavier: "I can help."

Apollo: "Are you sure?"

Klavier: "Ja. I'm sure."

Apollo: "Alright then, come, take a seat."

The blond German rockstar sat down on a chair next to the new Justice Minister of Khura'in and they started working.

Then, Justice spoke up and called out:

"Hey, Klavier?"

Gavin asked Justice:

"Was?"

without lifting his eyes from the paperwork.

Apollo looks at Klavier and asks:

"Where do you go? You're there and then all of a sudden you disappear for like 2-6 months!"

Klavier's eyes went dull as if Apollo said he's gonna kick a puppy, he clutched his pencil harder and with a straight, harsh voice answered:

"Where I go is NICHT Ihr Anliegen.. Is that clear, Schatzi?"

[Translation: Where I go is NOT your concern. Is that clear, Sweetheart?"]

Apollo understood what Klavier said since he has been learning German and was a bit shocked by that response, especially since Klavier hasn't been acting his usual self anymore. He's now a bit duller, colder, and even takes a lot of days off from work because he wouldn't be feeling too well. The Chief Prosecutor is really worried sick about him, hell, everyone is worried about him.

Apollo remembered about his bracelet and he stood up and he asked Klavier a certain and fairly simple question:

"Klavier, how are you feeling?"

Klavier knew what Apollo was trying to do, so he stood up and looked down at Apollo and replied:

"Ich sollte Sie nicht im Geringsten beunruhigen."

[Translation: I shouldn't concern you in the slightest.]

Apollo raised his voice a bit and asked:

"Why won't you answer this simple question?"

Klavier raised his voice more than Apollo and HE asked:

"And why do YOU of ALL people CARE?!"

Apollo was stunned at the response and his angry face turned into a sad yet slightly surprised face within a second. His eyes went duller and he stuttered while speaking. He replied:

"B-because I... I..."

Klavier:

"I of all people SHOULDN'T concern you THAT much."

Klavier started walking to the door and Apollo looked at him and asked:

"Hey! Wh-Where are you going?!"

Klavier turned at him and answered:

"I booked a room in a hotel and it's getting late, I should go now. Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Justice."

[Translation: I booked a room in a hotel and it's getting late, I should go now. Goodbye, Mr. Justice."

Apollo looked surprised, Klavier hasn't called him "Herr Justice" in 2.5 years, they've been calling each other by first names for like 6 months. Apollo didn't expect that from Klavier.

Klavier left and slammed the door shut, meanwhile Apollo sat back down on his chair and started working again.

He thought to himself:

"I better ask Nahyuta what's wrong with Klavier since they're coworkers and he probably knows more about Klavier... I'll ask in the morning."

Apollo worked a little more while thinking about that argument he had with Klavier. He looked at the time and it was already 02:00 A.M.

Apollo thought to himself:

"I've been thinking about that argument for a while now... Klavier came in at about 10:00 and he left at 11:00, it's been 3 hours..."

"I should probably get some rest, we'll settle things in the morning."

Apollo left his desk, changed into comfier clothes, brushed his teeth and went to bed.

Then he woke up at 09:00, had breakfast, got dressed and at 09:30 he heard a loud banging on his door and a girl's voice shouting:

"HORN HEAD! YOU NEED TO OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!

He knew something was wrong. It was a gut instinct, no a Gramarye instinct that something was wrong and that something bad might've happened to Klavier. He opened the door to Rayfa and asked:

"Your Benevole- I mean- Rayfa, why are you banging the door? What's so important?"

He forgot that Rayfa told Nahyuta and Apollo to not be too formal around her and to call her "Rayfa".

Rayfa answered:

"I have came to inform you that your visitor from yesterday has been arrested by the police today."

Apollo expected that. A Gramarye's instincts never lie.

Apollo then asked:

"I'll be his defense. Did they finish interrogating him?"

Rayfa answered:

"They have just arrested him. So I doubt that they interrogation is over."

Apollo then announced:

"I'll be his defense."

And he asked:

"What are the charges?"

Rayfa looked down, closed her eyes and shook her head a No while saying:

"I unfortunately do not know."

Apollo thought that they couldn't be something too big, he thought it was just a murder. He has dealt with a lot of murder cases before, he can handle one more.

Apollo asked:

"Come in, we'll see what the charges are on the news channel."

Apollo then thought to himself:

"The charges can't be that bad."

She agreed to go in and they turned on the TV and the first thing that popped up was Klavier's arrest. The news reporter was in Japan, Tokyo. Both Apollo and Rayfa spoke Japanese, although Rayfa's wasn't as fluent, but they both understood the reporter fully.

News Reporter:

"Breaking News. German Rockstar Prosecutor, Klavier Gavin just got arrested this morning in The Kingdom of Khura'in at 09:20 A.M. Khura'inese time. Approximately 09:15 A.M. in Japan, Tokyo. The crime scene was The Great Waterfall Hotel. Let's see what Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth thinks about Prosecutor Klavier Gavin's arrest."

Apollo was a little surprised and said:

"Wait, they're asking Chief Prosecutor-"

Rayfa put her hand on his mouth and shushed him. Apollo moved her hand and didn't finish his sentence.

The Chief Prosecutor was on TV, and he said:

"The charges aren't so simple. Any attorney who decides to take this case is gonna have a hard time proving him innocent. However I will believe in Prosecutor Gavin's innocence until the very end."

News Reporter:

"How do you feel about the fact that one of your prosecutors is accused of multiple crimes?"

Apollo was genuinely shocked and with a louder voice than usual, he said:

"MULTIPLE CRIMES!? PLURAL?!"

Rayfa was too stunned to shush Apollo.

Miles: **Sigh**

"All the prosecutors in my building, including myself have been accused of a murder or more. One of my prosecutors even went to prison for 7 years."

The news reporter turned the camera back to herself and said:

"As for what the charges are, The German Rockstar Prosecutor is accused of 8 murders, 3 attempted murders and an account of theft."

Apollo then shouted: "WHAT?!?"

And Rayfa shouted: "HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN!?!"

Apollo turned off the TV, looked at Rayfa and said:

"I'm going visit him in the detention center."

Rayfa: "I'm coming too."

Apollo: "But Rayfa, you're the queen! You can't just-"

Rayfa: "Yes I can."

Apollo: "Are you sure you want to assist me?"

Rayfa: "Yes I'm sure I want to assist you."

Apollo: "But if you are on my side then the judge will probably pick my side..."

Rayfa: "How about this; I'll assist in the investigation and another person will assist in the trial."

Apollo: "Alright, if that's what you want."

#ace attorney #klavier gavin #apollo justice #rayfa padma khura’in #miles edgeworth #defendant klavier #Turnabout of The Star

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alexbkrieger13 · 10 months

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Peter isn’t relying on older players, but he does have a hard time letting go of some of them. He should at least admit Seger is there because he feels she deserves a last world cup because of her many years in the sport, not because of her current contribution.

It doesn’t matter right now. He wants Seger on the bench and her doing her own rehab session work outs on the side during a world cup, not fine by me, but it’s not in my control. Let’s focus on the players who are there to actually play. Seger coming on is not a luxery for Sweden, it is a curtesy to Seger.

We shouldn’t be so quick to paint Sweden as perfect. The perfect team emvironment, the perfect coach, the perfect selection. We haven’t been tested properly yet. The next game is win or go home. Collecting 9 points against two teams that we should beat and one who fell apart, is not really worth much if we can’t keep the momentum going in the first knock out game.

I have faith Sweden can beat the US. We should be confident but not complacent. The job isn’t done yet. And in no way should we use it as a practice game for Seger or any other injured players to get back to match form. That would be crazy and could be punished in the blink of an eye.

The US will be missing Lavelle. Good for Sweden. Vlatko is also under pressure to move Ertz to the midfield. I don’t think he will, because that would mean changing their center back pairing for a knockout game, after three games of the same pair. But if they don’t think their midfield has worked so far, they might take a chance. A midfield with Horan, Ertz and Mewis/Sanchez and one of Cook or Sonnett come into the backline. Sweden need to prepare for different scenarios, and no doubt they will.

I think we all know just from April alone that Sweden are not a perfect team they have flaws and definitely agree cannot be complacent it is going to be a difficult match against the US and Sweden are gonna have to throw everything at it.

Listen it's been admitted already that if she wasn't ready she was going home and Peter isn't stupid he's not going to play a player he doesn't think is ready. Obviously I think it's understandable why people might not want her in the squad but at the same time I can understand why she is there and throw that she has now in the squad.

If I've learned anything about Sweden over the many many tournaments I have seen them in is that there can be very prepared for teams that they are expecting to meet. Like look at 2019 against Germany they had spent months leading up to that preparing to play Germany and I think realistically the they were doing the same with the US knowing that they reread they're going to meet them straight out of the group or later on in the tournament. Obviously a lot has changed with us squad in general since we last played them in 2021 so they will probably be several game plans ready for whatever the US throw at Sweden. All we can do now is just hope and Pray to the universe or whatever god you believe in that's Sweden and can get over the line and accomplished that

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judeswhore · 2 years

Note

fic idea: you surprising jude in germany and he’s all ‘omg what are you doing here’ bc imagine him engulfing you in a bear hug OR jude coming to surprise you in london and you walk into your flat and he’s just standing their with flowers and his goofy smile on his face

back to you - jude bellingham

ik it’s not valentine’s day anymore i just take forever to write smh

"I'm exhausted. My feet feel like they're gonna fall off." You grumbled into your phone, your body leant against the wall of the lift as you held it to your ear. You were met with your own overly tired expression when you glanced up at the mirror on the opposite wall and you grimaced. "And I look like shit."

"Rough day?" Jude's voice was quiet down the line and the soft note of sympathy you could just make out had your heart twisting in your chest. It had been two months since you'd last seen him and the phone calls and facetimes only seemed to be making it more difficult. It also didn't help that with Valentine's Day being tomorrow the entire café had been in some sort of weird love spell for the past few days and you'd been subjected to the ins and outs of everyone else's romantic plans.

"The worst. I just wanna go to bed, I think I could literally sleep for the next week." You ran your finger beneath your eye to clear a bit of smudged mascara as your boyfriend hummed lightly and you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms.

"You don't have any plans tonight do you?" You gave a quick shake of your head despite the fact he couldn't see you before quickly amending.

"No, I was meant to go to this new club in town with Lola but she text while I was at work to say she couldn't make it. Kind of glad, don't think I could last without falling asleep on the dance floor." The lift shuddered to a stop on your floor and you slowly pushed yourself off the wall, eager now to be inside your flat. "What about you? You're free for the next week, does that mean partying with Erling again?"

"No," Jude gave a soft snort and you could picture him shaking his head with that small grin. He was probably sprawled out on his sofa and you'd really do anything to be there with him, your head settled against his chest while he told you about his day. It was those small things that you missed so much when you were apart, just being able to curl up with him after a long day and talk about absolutely anything. "Thought we could facetime, watch a movie or something? But I think you might end up falling asleep on me."

"I can stay awake." You held your phone between your shoulder and ear as you rooted around in your bag for your key. Lola being with her boyfriend tonight meant you had the flat to yourself and that wasn't really something you were going to complain about if it also meant you could talk to Jude in peace.

"Really? Last time you said that you fell asleep like twenty minutes in."

"That was you! I had to end the call because your snoring was irritating Lola's cat." Jude's next words were muffled slightly as you pulled the phone away from your ear while unlocking the door but you caught the last part of 'don't snore.' which had you rolling your eyes. "You sound like a bulldozer, you need to get checked out or something."

The lights in the flat were already on and you mentally cursed your best friend for not switching them off when she left. You awkwardly kicked the front door shut with a soft bang and dropped your overflowing bag to the floor, keys clattering on to the little table by the door. Jude was oddly silent down the line as you pulled your coat off and hung it on the hook and your brows drew together, mouth opening to ask him what was wrong.

"Do I now?" Jude's voice was loud and most definitely not over the phone and your heart slammed unevenly in your chest when you caught sight of him standing just by the kitchen door. He was carrying a bouquet of roses, face lit up in a smile and within seconds you'd launched yourself at him, legs and arms wrapping around him as he tried not to stumble backwards into the wall. His arms curled around you and he gave a soft laugh as he spun the two of you slightly, his head turning so he could tuck his face away in the crook of your neck.

"What are you-?" You cut yourself off, unable to find words as you took in his familiar scent and basked in the feeling of his arms around you again. Jude stopped spinning slowly, his hands finding your hips as he set your feet on the ground, his gaze meeting yours, lips tilting into an even bigger smile.

"I missed you," He mumbled, fingers sliding along your back, pushing carefully beneath your jumper. "And I wanted to see you." He dipped his head so he could nudge his nose against yours and your arms tightened around his neck, your fingers flattening against the back of his head. Your heart and tummy were still doing odd flips and you suddenly had the overwhelming urge to cry, your emotions creeping up on you as you thought about how long you'd gone without him.

"I missed you, too, God, so fucking much." You pressed a kiss to his lips, pushing up on to your tip toes to hold him closer. He tasted like coffee and Jude and you never wanted him to leave again. His thumb brushed over your hip and you let out a quiet noise into his mouth, nipping softly at his bottom lip. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I could have planned something."

"Wanted it to be a surprise." He spoke the words between kisses and you knew without a doubt that the two you wouldn't leave the others side for the next few days. "Made sure Lola cancelled your plans so you'd come straight home, she let me in before she left." This had you pulling back and you eyed him, fingers sliding down his neck so you could cup his jaw instead.

"How long has this been planned?"

"Few days."

"Lola knew you were coming and she let me mope around whining all day about how much I missed you?" Jude grinned and peppered kisses across your cheeks, lips lowering to graze your jaw.

"I told you, it was a surprise, I asked her not to say anything." He pressed a kiss to the very tip of your nose, his smile brightening when you scrunched it in reply and set the flowers down on the little table. His hands came up to cup your cheeks as your brows drew together in a soft frown.

"Not gonna actually give me the flowers, Bellingham?" Jude's eyes were set on your lips and they briefly flickered to yours before he shook his head. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and he stepped impossibly closer to you, his grip on your cheeks tilting your head back further.

"Later, I just wanna.." He leant in and kissed you softly, tongue meeting yours almost immediately and you hummed quietly into his mouth, fingers tugging him closer by his shirt. His kiss was slow as though he was savouring every second and you half melted against him when he stroked his thumbs over your cheeks, your stomach flipping at the softest of gestures. "I really fuckin' missed you."

He kept his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes still closed and you bumped his nose, sliding your hands beneath his shirt to span your fingers across his bare chest. "Maybe you should sneak me into your suitcase when you leave?” This had him grinning, shaking his head as he kissed you again, gentle and fleeting.

“You’d definitely fit.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, eyes searching your face as though he was trying to commit every detail to memory before he left again. His gaze was soft and so completely full of love and your cheeks grew warmer with each passing second, face suddenly contorting before you hid away in his neck.

“Stop doing that weird staring thing.” Jude’s laugh was a startled one, his fingers playfully swatting at you.

“It’s not weird.” He turned his head to kiss the side of yours. “You’re just pretty.” It was your turn to nudge him but before you could say anything else, he was pulling back and reaching for the flowers again. “Happy early Valentine’s Day, baby.” He held the roses between your bodies, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

You reached out to run your fingers down his arm, twisting your fingers around his and squeezing. “I didn’t get you anything, I didn’t think-“ Jude was shaking his head before you’d finished speaking.

“I don’t need anything,” He squeezed your fingers back, lifting your hand to his mouth and skimming his lips over your knuckles. “I’m home with my girlfriend and I’m about to keep her in bed for the next two days, that’s my gift.” You opened your mouth to protest but he shut you up with another kiss, mouth carefully covering yours and cementing his words. His fingers tugged the flowers from you again, his lips still pressed to yours and his next words had your tummy fluttering, your fingers tightening on him. “I think I’m gonna start that now actually.”

#football #football imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff

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astro-rain · 3 years

Text

delicate; b. barnes

chapter thirteen - “sober desires & the reminiscence of a winsome smile”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4k

synopsis: wakanda gets a visit from our favorite captain, two drinks is too much rum for a reticent psychologist, and bucky knows (& feels) more than meets the eye.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

[A/N]: this took so long to write but WHEW this chapter!!!! pls let me know what you think >:D

The knock on the outside of his hut was followed by a deep accented voice, one that he had heard before.

"Sergeant Barnes?" it called.

Quickly enough Bucky was outside, facing the king of Wakanda himself. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. You see, the majority of their past interactions included the Black Panther trying to kill him. T'Challa was kind and Bucky trusted him. It was just... a little awkward given the history.

"Your highness," he greeted.

He smiled bashfully at the title.

"I have some news for you."

Bucky's head cocked to the side, curious. News? Should he be worried? He hadn't been expecting anything.

"Captain Rogers is on his way here. He was alerted about our recent complication with N'Jadaka," he said, referring to who Bucky guessed was who Y/N called Erik Killmonger, "and he asked to come check in, make sure you're okay."

Steve was coming. His mood was immediately uplifted. He hadn't seen his oldest friend for months. It was weird to have Steve feeling the need to make sure Bucky was okay; it was usually the other way around. Nonetheless, he was excited. And he had the sudden urge to tell Y/N.

- - -

READER

"Sharon. Hey," she said into the phone.

The friends hadn't spoken since Y/N left for Wakanda - security measures since Sharon helped Steve and betrayed the... well everyone.

"Y/N!" Sharon greeted. "How is everything? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no I'm totally okay. The Killmonger thing was more the royal family's deal than mine. I was just hiding out in some bunker with Barnes."

Concerned weaved its way into Sharon's voice. "Oh my god. Did anything happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, historically, stress hasn't affected him well..."

She wasn't sure why she almost got offended. "No... he was completely fine. He doesn't lose control out of nowhere and turn into the winter soldier. It's a lot more complicated than that... We were fine."

"Oh, that's good. Listen... I'm actually on my way to Wakanda right now."

"You're-... what?"

"Steve needed to check in on Bucky after Killmonger. Wilson and I are coming too."

They must all be together. It makes sense considering what happened after the disaster in Berlin, and then the airport fiasco in Germany and then... everything in Siberia.

Aw, they're in hiding together, Y/N joked in her head. She almost laughed out loud.

"Oh. Is that safe? For you? For everyone?"

"I've been careful. We've all been careful. But, things don't always go as planned. And T'Challa feels bad about putting you guys in a dangerous situation when he was supposed to protect you."

"It wasn't his fault."

"I know. We all know. But, it's kind of his way of making up for it: letting us stay so that Steve can check in on Barnes and we can cool off for a bit."

"Was Rogers mad?"

"Well, he wasn't thrilled that his best friend was trapped alone in a country that just got taken over..."

He wasn't alone.

"...he was mostly worried," Sharon continued. "Still is."

"Right."

"Alright, well I got to go. We'll be there in a couple hours."

"I'll see you. Be safe."

"See you."

- - -

BUCKY BARNES

"Hey Buck," the happiness in Steve's voice was genuine as he patted his oldest friend on the back in the middle of an embrace. "How you been?"

"A hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you, that's for damn sure," Bucky smiled.

Sam Wilson stood next to the star spangled man with a plan. Bucky briefly glanced at him.

"Wilson," he deadpanned.

"Barnes," he returned the greeting.

"I was worried when T'Challa told me about Killmonger," Steve said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they let you stay here, but I just didn't think I'd have to be worried so soon."

"It's alright. Everything turned out okay and I was fine the whole time. You don't have to lose your head."

"I'm not losing my head."

"You never had it in the first place."

The blonde changed the topic of conversation.

"You were with that therapist right?"

"Yeah."

"What do we think about her?" he asked with equal parts caution and suspicion. "Do you trust her?"

Bucky wasn't sure why he was almost offended.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you know what happened the last time you were with a psychiatrist..."

"Yeah well, this one doesn't have a personal vendetta against the Avengers."

"You sure she's alright?"

He looked serious, and Bucky could see the genuine concern etched into his friend's face. Steve was truly wary.

"I'm positive. She's helped so much since I've been here. I really trust her."

"Okay, if you say so. I trust you."

Bucky smirked. "Hey uh... is Sharon with you?"

Sam said nothing but radiated a smirk to match Bucky's perfectly, a kind of smirk that only a ball-busting best friend cracks.

"She is..." Steve replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing. Just wondering, that's all."

"She said she wanted to talk to a friend."

"Oh, she's probably with Y/N."

"Who?"

"Y/N. Dr. Y/L/N. 'The therapist.'"

"I didn't know they were friends."

"Why do you think Sharon recommended her?"

"She said she knew 'the best' person to help."

"That true. She's crazy smart."

"As long as she can do the job, I'm all for it, no matter whose friend she is."

In a short-lived thought, Bucky wondered what Steve Rogers would think of who else Y/N was friends with. He wondered if Steve would think it was strange to be friends with your doctor, or if he'd be pleased that Bucky had gotten close to someone, anyone else in this world.

"How long are you guys staying for?" Bucky asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Honestly, we were only planning on staying for like a week or so. We've been moving throughout Europe, and the other day, when we were in Prague... it was almost really bad."

"We need to stay low for a while," Sam added.

"What did you do?" Bucky asked, used to Steve getting himself into trouble.

"It's a long story..."

"What did T'Challa say about it?"

"He said to take as much time as we needed," Steve filled him in.

"You know, I'm startin' to really like this guy," Sam nodded, smiling. "Obviously when he went all cat murderer on you, he was a bit of a pain in the ass. But now? Guardian angel."

Bucky shook his head at Sam's nonsense. What an idiot, he thought. He wondered what Y/N would think of Sam, but then a more pressing question popped into his head.

"Where are you guys gonna stay?"

"I'm guessing there," Steve said pointing behind Bucky.

When he turned around, Bucky was shocked but he also wasn't. Behind and around his hut stood three more just like it, but slightly smaller. He could've sworn those weren't there yesterday, but that's the beauty of Wakanda. They were ten steps ahead of the rest of the world and he guessed that included speed building as well.

"I will never stop loving this place," he admired.

He tried not to sound too eager when he knocked on her door. She looked shocked but didn't really try to hide it.

"Oh," she sounded confused. "Hi, Bucky..."

"Hey," he grinned. "I have a proposition for you."

Her eyebrows lowered as her lips twisted into the most devilish smirk. She could communicate an entire joke with just her face.

"Not like that!" he exclaimed.

She laughed, smirk morphing into an endearing smile. "Like what then?"

"Steve wanted to have like a bonfire sorta thing to catch up since we're all together for once. You know, just like drinks and stupid stories from the forties. D'ya think you could part with your paper work to grace us with your presence?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure?"

"Of course. I'd love to have you there."

She wrung out her hands. "I don't know, Buck. Is that really appropriate? To have your doctor hangin' out with your friends?"

"That may be, but that's not what I'm asking. I want my friend to 'hang out' with my other friends."

Out of her composure seeped a meek smile. The air felt softer to him.

"And maybe you can analyze Wilson and tell me what his biggest fear is later," he added.

She snickered.

"Okay. Lead the way, James Buchanan."

The fire was a monster, roaring and crackling with all the life in the world. Bucky loved it. He loved the warmth, the heat, the lack of cold.

"I'm gonna get another drink," Y/N said. "You want anything, Buck?"

"I'm all set," he smiled, gaze lingering for only a second too long.

"Sharon?" she turned. "You?"

The blonde shook her head. "Oh, I think I've had plenty."

Surrounding the fire sat five chairs. All but one was empty as Y/N went to get her second drink. Of course they were in Sam's hut, Bucky thought. After all, even though it was Steve's idea, Sam was most excited about the whole thing, actually sitting down and just relaxing instead of fleeing from belligerent governments.

"Therapist's pretty," Sam noted with a smirk once she was out of hearing range.

"Y/N," Bucky corrected, mind going completely elsewhere. "She's so smart."

"Smart enough to call you Buck..." Steve said, catching on to Sam.

"What?"

"She calls you Buck."

"Yeah, so? You do too."

"Yeah, but I've known you longer. And I'm your friend."

"She's my friend too," he shrugged.

"She's your doctor..."

"And I'm a hundred year old man with one arm trying to get un-brainwashed in a country that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists. None of this is conventional."

"...fair," Steve said, with only a little bit of skepticism. "Are you guys close?"

Does spending hours alone talking with someone in a hidden bunker make you close? Does them comforting you after a nightmare and then subsequently allowing you to get the best night sleep you've had in forever? What about making daring voyages to quaint waterfalls and laughing a kind of laugh that makes your heart swell? What about-

"Buck?"

He shrugged. Again. "I guess so."

Sam narrowed his eyebrows. "How close?"

"Wilson," Sharon admonished exasperatedly. "Y/L/N's his doctor, come on. That's inappropriate to suggest."

Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. Briefly, just briefly, Bucky imagined kicking the leg of Sam's chair and watching him fall back. He didn't, obviously. But it would have been funny if he did.

The seemingly never ending conversation was cut short when Y/N returned, drink in hand, and took her seat next to Bucky.

"What'd you get?" he asked, demeanor subtly but swiftly changing into something lighter, something happier.

"I don't know, but it has rum in it," she shrugged sardonically before clinking her glass with Bucky's.

"Cheers," Sam raised his glass, trying to engage.

Y/N wordlessly, and with a half-smile, raised her glass in his direction.

"So," Steve started, comfortably crossing his legs and leaning back into his chair before asking Bucky, "you wanna know what actually happened in Prague?"

"Do enlighten me. I've been waiting all night."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

The rest of the night went on sort of like this. The group took turns telling stories and then listening. Cracking jokes and then laughing. Everyone but Y/N, Bucky noticed. She just... sat and drank, livelihood only extending to the borders of her seat.

He hadn't seen her like this before, and he found himself stuck halfway between confused and worried. Had something happened? Had something wrong been said?

He kept an eye on her as dusk melted into night. He told himself it was because he was concerned, but that was only in addition to the way he was magnetized to how she looked with the light of the fire gleaming on her skin.

After she would finish a drink, she'd stare into the fire for a little while, before leaving to get another. When he made sure no one was looking at him, he'd look at her. Discretely. At her eyes. The reflection of the fire in her pupils made him wonder if she would burn the fire before it could ever burn her. He was all too aware of the heat that accompanied her gaze. It was a ravishing burn that made him ache for the searing feeling as soon as it was taken away.

He didn't dare think of it for too long or else he would get distracted. And someone would call his name, pulling him out of a trance he didn't want to be caught in. A trance he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that he was in.

The night remained as such until someone - he couldn't remember who - said they were tired, and everyone bid their farewells, and wished their good nights.

Y/N spared about a side hug to Sharon before walking off on her own. Bucky half volunteered, half insisted on tending to the fire to make sure it went out, only to ignore it as soon as everyone was gone and follow after his psychologist.

He caught up to her as she was in the middle of opening the door to her living quarters.

"Y/N."

She turned around in the spot, door wide open, staring up at him.

He bore into her eyes, looking at something, noticing her dilated pupils and hazy stare.

"You're drunk," he said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah."

"But you don't seem drunk?"

"I'm not wasted," she padded into the room, carelessly leaving the door wide open for him to walk through. "Just drunk enough to remember why I didn't drink in college."

She rubbed her eyes.

"Think I want another one," she sighed, heading for the door with a bitter smile. "More rum."

Bucky gently closed the door, maneuvering himself in front of it, and blocking her from exiting. Another drink is definitely not a good idea.

He changed the subject. "Why didn't you drink in college?"

Her eyebrows raised, introducing a look that said Really? You think I don't know what you're doing?

"Wow, look at you being the voice of reason for my otherwise inebriated brain."

Nevertheless, she cooperated.

She sighed. "It just... makes me miserable. I'm a sad drunk."

"Better than a mean drunk," he offered.

"Possibly. It's a real mood killer, though."

"That why you were off all night?"

"Off... ? I don't know, I guess so... I'm usually pretty inconspicuous when I'm drunk. Didn't think anyone would really notice."

There was no hesitation when he spoke.

"I did."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. Just... why did you keep drinking if it only makes you miserable?"

"Alcohol is a depressant," she breathed mechanically, as if speaking was difficult. "It depresses your nervous system, then you get disinhibited. Then you don't care about rationality and just drink! Then in the moment it feels kinda good... but then it makes you sad... and then you need more to blur the feeling away. It's like... the worse you feel, the more you need to drink... but then the more you drink... the worse you feel..."

"How are you drunk but still talking... sorta still like you usually do?"

She smirked, looking like she was trying not to laugh. He was glad she was smiling.

"Maybe you're not the only one with heightened metabolism as a result of the serum..."

He looked at her quizzically, amused. She wasn't making total sense, but he couldn't find it in himself to give much of a damn. She smiled, again.

"Kidding. I just have outstanding self-control."

She plopped down on the floor, deciding that she no longer wanted to use her legs. Fine motor function was overrated for intoxicated people.

He sat down with her, next to her.

"If I tell you a joke will you be less sad-drunk?"

"I already am 'less sad-drunk.' I wasn't before, but," she took a breath in, "now you're here, so... improvements have been made."

"That's good 'cause I was worried before."

She glanced up at him with brazen eye contact. Her face held a mixture of what looked like a confused and pained expression, as something changed. Some sort of realization or reality check.

She wiped her hands over her face. "God, this is so ridiculous. I'm sorry. You shouldn't be worried about me, that's not your job. I'm sorry. I should just go to bed, and you can leave..."

"I know it's not my job. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I was alright- it... it's not like I was crying at the fire or something. I was fine."

"After your second drink, you were silent almost the entire time."

"You were counting my drinks?"

Not exactly.

"I was paying attention."

"To what?"

To you.

"You completely turned into yourself. Your elbows and legs were drawn in close to your body: unrelaxed and almost apprehensive posture. You were nonverbal, didn't make any jokes, no sarcastic commentary. I was literally purposefully saying things I knew you would correct or tease or laugh at and nothing. I was waiting for a 'smartass' or a 'there's a reason behind everything' explanation or anything science related. But there was nothing."

Her face was blank. It took her a second to catch up. Blinking slowly, she shook her head, eyebrows furrowed, all emphasis on the word. "Why?"

Her tone was truly confused. It was like she, in her heart of hearts, for the life of her, could not believe he was concerned.

"Y/N you're my friend," he chided. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She averted her gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

"Look," his voice was soft. "I know you know everything and you know my mannerisms and micro-expressions and you know when I'm lying and whatever else 'cause you're a genius psychologist. But is it really that hard to believe that, after all the time we've known each other, I know you a little too? That I saw you for once instead of you always seein' me?"

"I think you're the only person who sees me."

The words leaked out before he thought to analyze them, tone lower than a whisper.

"Well I can't seem to look at much else."

He had never felt such potent silence. Did he just fuck up majorly? They just sat, on the floor, eyes glued to each other like twenty year old dried cement. He didn't think he could move away if he tried.

"I see you now," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Blue," she breathed. "Your eyes are so blue. I don't... think I've ever seen that shade of blue."

It happened exponentially slowly, but the closer her face got to his, the more his chest felt like it was going to burst in the best way possible. As if liquid light poured into his lungs, inflating his chest and igniting every nerve with adoration.

Her lips hovered over his so lightly it was as if it wasn't even happening, like her affection was a ghost. But it was happening, and he could feel it. He could feel the softness in her lips and the smell of the rum she drank as they combined into the wondrous dual sensation that permeated throughout his brain.

They weren't kissing by any stretch. Their lips were hardly touching. However, in that moment, he was at her mercy. He was prepared to bend the laws of nature to her will if she would allow the continuation of this feeling for even a fraction of a second more.

Until it stopped and she waned away like the moon bidding adieu to the morning sky.

Her voice shook. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't... it's-"

"No. It's not okay. It's not okay."

He leaned back, examining her face. She looked confused and embarrassed and scared.

"Y/N, it's fine. It's okay, seriously, don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm drunk and I'm disinhibited and it's affecting my judgement and making me impulsive. I'm sorry."

He couldn't be exactly sure, but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.

Neither of them moved a muscle.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

She was silent, frozen. It reminded him of a past conversation about the fight or flight response.

Bucky stood up and offered his hand to the woman sitting on the floor in front of him. "Here."

She took it gingerly and stood up with him before wide eyes stared into his apologetically.

"Please don't feel bad," he pleaded. "Barely anything happened."

"Still..."

"Why don't you just get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow. I promise it won't seem like such a big deal when you're sober."

She nodded but they both remained motionless, hands still together. He knew they needed to let go, but her hand didn't move, and she just kept looking into him.

"Okay," she whispered.

She walked him to the door, hand still in hand, and until he was forced to let go of her to open it. He stepped, ever so slowly, out of her room and onto the grass outside. He looked up at her, the doorway between them suddenly feeling like worlds of distance. They stood on opposite sides of the open door like statues. Bucky didn't know what to do and he wasn't sure what to say.

He settled on a, "Goodnight."

He tried not to make it sound so weak and timorous but he failed entirely. He didn't want to leave her like this. Guilty and alone. God knows he knew what it felt like.

Her voice was dry and quiet. "Goodnight."

He wasn't sure when the door shut or which one of them had shut it. The only thing he was sure of was the feeling of formidable regret pooling in his stomach.

On one hand, there was regret for letting her lean in and get so close because now he was scared that their dynamic was ruined and worried that Y/N felt awful. On the other hand, there was regret that he just let her pull away. Regret that he didn't lean in more and shamelessly drown in her. Regret that he didn't unapologetically suffocate himself with the softness of lips, the inebriating smell of rum on on her tongue, and the utterly bewitching taste of her he was sure would follow.

He wasn't sure what he felt, to be honest. He was a muddle of emotions of which he had no idea how to sift through. Momentarily, he wished he was drunk so he wouldn't have to think so hard. Then, he remembered the saying, "drunk words are sober thoughts," and he was damn glad he was stone cold sober; he could only imagine the things he would say to her if he was drunk.

This lead him to pondering, it got the gears in his brain turning. It made him wonder. Maybe... just maybe... if drunk words were sober thoughts, then what if drunk actions were sober desires?

Thinking like this could cause him read the situation completely differently. Thinking like this could make him read the situation in such a way that conceived the slightest sliver of hope for emotions gone repressed. Hope is dangerous...

Hope is dangerous, so Bucky shoved it down into the deepest cavern of his brain, the very same cavern where his feelings for her resided. It was a monster in a cave, growling and hissing menacingly. Intensely.

It scared him, this intensity. It scared him so much that the only way he could fall asleep was by thinking about the way James Buchanan sounded when she said it with a winsome smile.

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years

Text

Hanahaki disease - read on ao3

Tagging: @lokitonypeter @just-things-things @thegreenmetblue @someonepostedart @andacheesyoneliner @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup @useless-fanfictions-for-mcu

*-*

Peter's known for a long time that he was in love with Tony. Since he was seven, and Ironman saved his life. Since he came home to Tony Stark on his couch, talking with his aunt.

Since the trip to Germany, and everything else leading up to now. The more time he spent with the older man, the more in love with him he became.

Peter never really thought he'd be the one to get sick. He thought he'd been immune. He's had crushes before, been in unrequited love before, and he never got sick.

But with Tony, it came on so suddenly. One day he was fine, and then the next, blue petals were in his sink after a coughing fit.

He'd been so shocked he'd stumbled back and almost hit his head on the bathroom door.

That was six months ago, and its not gotten better. He's been lucky enough to hide it from everyone.

With May's long hours at the hospital and his school's wacky scheduling, and the Avengers keeping Peter on the outskirts, its easy to hide the blue flowers.

He's read stories about people with the disease getting better on their own, or even learning to live with it for the rest of their lives.

He's also read about it killing people.

But he can't tell Tony how he feels. He just can't. Tony thinks of Peter as a kid. Plus, while the age difference doesn't bother Peter at all, it might bother Tony.

The man was old enough to be his dad anyway. So Peter decided to hide the flower petals. For as long as he could.

"Hey, Pete, you getting the popcorn or what?" Clint calls from the living room. Peter coughs again, hunched over the trashcan beside the kitchen island.

"Yeah!" He shouts, coughing again. He reaches into his mouth, picking the petals off his tongue before straightening. He glances down at the trash, covered in wet, wilty petals and feels his stomach roll.

He quickly grabs a bunch of paper towel, throwing them into the trash to cover them, then pushing it all down as far as it'd go.

After a second, he grabs the two bowls of popcorn and makes his way back into the living room.

"Sorry, I had to melt the butter," he excused, handing one bowl off to Clint -who would be sharing with Nat, Bruce and Steve.

Peter handed the other bowl off to Sam, who was in reach of Tony, Thor, Bucky and Peter.

"What are we watching again?" Peter asked, clearing his throat. It was always worse when Peter was around Tony.

"Halloween," Sam said, smirking over at Peter.

"Its August," Peter exclaims.

"Yeah, and we were going to watch A Walk To Remember but Tony doesn't do chick flicks, and the grandparents haven't seen it yet."

"Hey, Tony hasnt seen it either," Steve yelped, waving a hand at Tony, sitting at the corner of the couch, beside Sam.

Peter tried not to think about how close they'd be if Sam and him just switched places.

"That's because Halloween is a terrible series."

"It not!" Peter can't help interjecting. "Its right up there with Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th."

"How do you even know what those movies are?" Clint asks, laughing on the other couch.

"I watch old movies," Peter shrugged, feeling the familiar sense of self-consciousness creep into his chest, tickling at his lungs.

"Old!" Tony barked. "Kid, the 80s aren't old."

Peter forces himself to laugh and shrug and make a joke about hanging out with people twice his age, and the conversation moves on.

But it just reminds Peter that Tony would never see him as an equal because of his age. There was no way he'd ever accept that Peter loved him. Or would love him back.

The movie plays, and Peter chews handfuls of popcorn to keep from coughing up a lung.

Bucky and Steve are on the edge of their seats, fully invested in the corny horror film when Tony starts coughing.

Everyone glances over in concern, but the man just waves his hand, mouth pressed into his elbow.

"Pop-corn-" he chokes out between coughs.

"You're supposed to chew it," Nat laughs. Peter tries not to outwardly show how worried he is when Tony's face grows red, the coughing so bad he has to get up and make his way to his bedroom down the hallway.

Everyone returns to watching the movie, but Peter can't help but wonder if Tony's okay, especially when he doesn't come back right away.

"Uh, I gotta take a leak," Peter lies, climbing to his feet.

"Thanks for sharing, little man," Sam huffed. Peter doesn't say anything else,just makes his way down the hallway.

Tony's bedroom is all the way at the end. The only people who live in the penthouse with him are Steve and Bucky, and Wanda and Vision -though they're out on a date for the night.

He passes the bathroom door, and his frown deepens when he hears Tony hacking in his bedroom.

He keeps light on his toes, reaching the bedroom door that's not all the way closed, and pushes it open just a little.

"Ton-" the sight before him cuts him off, and he ducks back a little, worried maybe the older man might've seen him.

He feels his chest tighten at the sight. Tony, leaned over with a bedside trash can between his knees, coughing up little pink flowers.

Peter's eyes widen when the man spits a glob of blood into the basket before continuing to cough.

Tears burn at Peter's eyes and he quickly backs up, rushing down the hallway and past the living room.

"Hey, where you going? Where's the fire?"

"I-I gotta go home aunt May- uh, I gotta go she wants me home," Peter shouts, snatching up his keys and phone on the way out.

He's in the elevator, and he can't stop the sobs from tightening his throat.

Tony's sick. Tony's in love with someone who doesn't love him back. Tony's in love with someone and its not Peter.

Be chokes on tears and petals all the way to the main floor, shoves the petals into his pocket and runs from the building.

He knew his love was unrequited. He knew there was no chance, but to see Tony so in love with someone else -it was like digging a knife into his heart and twisting.

He makes it to his bedroom and buries his face into his pillow, muffling his crying so May won't hear when she gets home. Hopefully she'll think hes still at the tower and won't check on him until the morning.

He cries himself to sleep, eyes gritty and heavy.

*-*

"Hey, kid, how's patrolling going?"

Peter jolts at the sudden sound of Tony's voice in his ear, momentarily forgetting he has a connection to the tower now. New upgrades.

"Uh, good," Peter huffed, swinging from building to building. "Stopped a mugging, and helped a couple people with the parking meters."

Tony chuckles over the coms. "You gotta stop showing people the coin on tape trick."

Peter can't help but smile through his mask. He clears his throat when he feels the familiar tickle at the back of his throat.

"Fuck capitalism, Mr. Stark," he says.

"You do know capitolism is kind of my job?"

"Its not," Peter countered. "I mean, it relied heavily on it in the beginning -what with the weapons and war profiteering- but you've come a long way! Sustainable energy and you're even recycling!"

Tony chuckles again, and Peter has a moment to regret his words -Tomy probably thinks he's just a dumb kid- before a coughing fit hits him out of nowhere.

It's so bad, Peter loses his momentum and drops onto a rough of a small cafe. Hes on his hands and knees, crawling from the edge of the roof as he coughs and hacks.

"Pete, you okay? What's wrong?" Comes Tony's worried voice.

Peter feels the petals coating his mouth with nowhere to go and frantically tugs on his mask. He's choking, suffocating.

He rips the mask off and heaves a mess of petals and blood onto the gravel roof.

Its never been this bad. Panic grips his chest when he coughs and wretches more than he can get a breath in. He's suffocating.

Tears burn his eyes as he struck less desperately to take a breath. Just one breath.

His head begins to spin, chest heaving and he drops from his knees to his hips, legs curled off to the side as he holds himself up with shaky arms.

There's so much blood and petals, Peter doesn't know where its all coming from.

He's too busy dying to notice the suit of armor that drops onto the roof, or that Tony's suddenly rushing towards him.

"Jesus, kid!" He breathed.

Peter lets out a sob, blood and petals continuing to fall from his mouth. His stomach hurts from the heaving, his chest from lack of oxygen.

Tony grabs him by the arms, pulling him forward until he's away from the pile of bile, blood and blue wilting flowers, nearly cradling him in his arms.

"Its alright, you're okay, you're gonna be okay," Tony repeated, rocking Peter while he continued to cough and sob.

He shakes his head, even as exhaustion and lack of air flow has his eyelids drooping, body settling further into Tony's hold.

When he wakes up again, he's in a hospital bed. Theres an iv in the back of his hand, and a tube running down his throat from his nose.

He swallows around it and has to fight back panic at the strange feeling.

There's a heart monitor on his index finger, and a few on his chest -which is bare.

Peter moves shaky hands to the blanket and pulls it up just enough to see. Someone had taken his suit off, leaving him in his red boxers.

He blushes at that. Who had taken his suit off? Damn, he hoped it wasn't Clint or Sam.

He drops the blanket just as the door opens. He looks up to see Tony step inside and he wants the bed to swallow him whole.

"Hey, kid," he greeted, shutting the door behind him and making his way towards Peter's bed. "You had us all pretty worried."

Peter drops his eyes to the itchy white hospital sheet, picking at a loose thread and not saying anything. What was there to say?

Tony sighs as he settles down into the chair beside the bed.

"Your aunt May is in the middle of a shift, but she'll be stopping by when she's got a break to check up on you."

"Okay," Peter barely manages to murmur.

"The doctors had to pump your lungs," Tony continued. "But its not a cure, Pete. They'll come back."

Tears burn at his eyes and he quickly brushes them away, sniffling as he does so.

"I know," he said. "Its alright, I'm okay."

"Peter," Tony sighs, grabbing Peter's hand. He looks up then, seeing the concern in the older man's eyes. "You're not okay, you're really sick."

"People live with it all the time," Peter brushed off.

"Who is it?"

"What?" Peter asked, heart monitor matching his fast pulse.

"Who is it? How long have you been like this?"

and it must be because Peter is tired -exhausted and drained and so sick of being sick- because fresh tears bloom and he pulls his hand from Tony's.

"Long time," is all he can say as he presses his palms into his eyes, rubbing at the tears.

"Who," Tony presses.

Fuck it, Peter thinks. He's already dying, he's already humiliated. Why not just confess?

"You," he says, pulling his hands from his face. "I've-I've been in love with you for- for years."

He can't handle the shocked look that filters through Tony's features, so he looks down at the iv in his hand, lower lip trembling.

"And I know you don't think of me that way," he continues. "I know, so its okay, I'm fine, I'll get over it or, or get the surgery or something-"

"Peter," Tony interrupts, moving from the chair to the side of the bed. He grabs both sides of Peter's jaw, forcing him to look up at Tony. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," he says on a wet breath. "Because you've always thought of me as a kid. You- I'm still just a kid to you, and thats okay, Mr. Stark, I'm-"

Tony's eyebrows furrow as Peter has to stop talking. He's getting to the point where he's babbling, not understandable.

"I don't think of you as a kid," Tony says.

"Yes, you do," Peter huffed, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself down. "You do, and thats okay, I promise, I've live this long with it, I'm okay."

"Has it always been that bad?"

Peter shakes his head.

"What made it worse?"

Peter's showing his hand already, he might as well expose the card up his sleeve too.

"I saw you," he murmured. "During the movie. You're sick too. I didn't mean to, I was just- checking to make sure you were okay but-"

"Peter, sweetheart," Tony interrupted, and Peter looked up at him, realizing suddenly the man's eyes are watering a little.

"I'm sick because of you."

Peter feels like someone punched the air from his lungs, and he blinks up at Tony, eyebrows drawing close as he tries to process what Tony's said.

"What?" He asks feebly. A small smile pulls at the corner of Tony's mouth and he leans forward, kissing Peter softly on the mouth.

It's a simple kiss, but it sucks the air from Peter's lungs.

"We're really bad at communicating, kid," Tony chuckled wetly, their noses brushing. Peter can't help but sniffle a laugh as well, his hands moving to grip the front of Tony's shirt.

"M'not a kid," he mumbles, pressing his forehead against Tony's. The older's hands are still cradling his face, thumbs brushing against his wet cheeks.

"No, you're not," Tony agreed.

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #ironman #spiderman #starker #ao3 #my writing #sfsummerbingo21

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