#Also this week has absolutely been kicking my ass I have not written as much as I would have liked to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

7-wonders · 1 year

Note

Can I request a Morpheus x reader fic where reader is really tired, but she ignores it and keeps doing what she has to do, even though she feels overwhelmed. Morpheus knows from her dreams how she's feeling, he feels bad cause she didn't tell him anything, so he decides to ask her and surprisingly, she breaks down, telling him everything. He listens and reassures her, telling she doesn't have to fake emotions with him, he loves her anyways. Thank you <3

It’s been a long couple of weeks, and life seems to really enjoy just kicking you in the ass. Be it at work, where your boss continues to chastise you for problems that are not your doing (really, how is it your fault the internet went down for an hour yesterday?), or the deluge of school projects and deadlines that are all coming at you in a short amount of time, or even just petty drama within your friend group. It’s stressing you out to be so busy, but is life not just a series of periods so busy that you think you might be losing your mind?

You’ve been able to find absolutely no respite, not even in sleep. This, you know, will soon become a problem, thanks to the fact that you’re somehow in a relationship with the Dreamlord. Your dreams have been just as stressful as your waking life, actually nightmares about failing at all of the tasks you’re working so hard on, and they’re almost always fitful to the point where you’re not even asleep long enough to recognize you’re in the Dreaming and will yourself to the Dreaming proper before you’re waking up with a jolt and staring in resignation up at your ceiling. He’s going to find out, it’s a matter of when, not if, so you’re hoping you can somehow be faster and magically finish all these stressful tasks before he decides to look into why you haven’t visited him in the Dreaming lately.

That plan is almost immediately derailed by the essay you’re currently stuck writing. By stuck, you mean that you have absolutely no idea of how to finish it. It’s a longer assignment, 10 pages, and though you have about half of it written and know the topic and how you had set out to complete this assignment, it’s suddenly as though you’ve forgotten everything you knew about writing. For almost an hour now, you’ve been stuck staring at the cursor as it blinks mockingly at you, daring you to try and write something, anything, that will make sense.

(Jeez, maybe you really do need a break if inanimate objects are starting to pick fights with you. Narrowing your eyes at the offending computer pixels, your hands hover over the keyboard and you decide that, actually, the best revenge is to make this bitch work overtime as you whip out the rest of this essay.)

When you feel a pair of large hands settle on your shoulders, you don’t even flinch, too focused on finishing typing the paragraph to even summon enough energy to be surprised. Plus, by now you just seem to innately know when Morpheus appears in your general vicinity, and this also takes away from the element of surprise he used to possess when you first began becoming involved with the King of Dreams.

After you’ve completed your sentence, you tilt your head backwards in order to properly look upside-down at Morpheus, who’s already smiling at your antics.

“Hi,” you greet.

“Hello.” He leans down to kiss you, before spinning your chair around so that you’re actually facing him. “You look tired.”

You huff out a laugh. “I’ve been tired for, like, a week now.”

“Your absence has been keenly felt by my realm’s denizens.”

With a raised eyebrow, you ask, “Just your denizens?”

“No being has missed you more than I,” he says with a smirk.

“That’s better.”

Gently, Morpheus tugs you up from your chair. “I believe that you deserve a break.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

He just smiles in response (his smiles, of course, are fleeting and barely there, but you know how to spot them by now that you almost never miss them) and walks with you to your bed. Normally, when he’s spending too much time trying to get one of his new creations just right or when he’s too stuck on research and running himself ragged, convincing him to take a break is your specialty. You should protest this and insist that you need to finish your assignment first, but it’s almost impossible to say no to your beloved. Really, now you see why he gives in almost every time you pull this move on him.

When Morpheus does get you on your bed, he sits right next to you so your thigh is touching his. He’s so touch-starved that it would be almost endearing if you didn’t know the reason why. Instead, every time he has to be touching you, you just wish that Roderick Burgess was still alive so that you could beat him to death for what he did to Morpheus.

“If I have the wrong impression, feel free to say so.” Morpheus makes sure that you’re making eye contact with him, and you know that you’re screwed. “Are you alright, though?”

You were going to reassure him that everything was fine and that you could handle it, really, you were. And then he just has to go and cup your cheek with his hand and rub his thumb along the soft skin under your eye, and that ruins everything. The moment that he does that, you break and feel tears begin to spill down your face, which surprises you just as much as it surprises Morpheus.

“Y’know what, I don’t think I’m completely alright,” you admit through your sudden outburst of emotion. When Morpheus wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, your cries turn to sobs.

Sure, you know you’ve been stressed, but you didn’t think that it was “verge-of-a-mental-breakdown” stressed! Apparently, you were completely and utterly wrong, and now you’re facing the mortifying ordeal of being known in one of the most vulnerable ways that a human can be known.

One of the nice things about Morpheus is that he doesn’t try to fill any silences by talking or trying to distract you. Instead, he simply lets you cry it out. And cry you do, probably ruining his shirt–made out of the finest dreamstuff, of course–with all of your tears. You’ll worry about that later, though, when you don’t feel like your chest is caving in from crying.

When you finally feel like you can breathe, which is an indeterminate amount of time later, you pull yourself away from Morpheus’s chest and wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. You feel Morpheus push something into your other hand, and you look down to see he’s produced an actual handkerchief from out of thin air. Regardless of your continuing awe at the things he’s able to do, you take it from him.

“Thanks,” you say hoarsely, using the soft cloth now instead of your shirt.

Morpheus allows you to collect yourself, rubbing his hand up and down your back and making sure that your breathing slows down to match his. Morpheus, of course, doesn’t actually need to breathe, but he’s currently doing so simply so that you have something to focus on. God, you love him so much.

Finally, you think you can form a full sentence without crying again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I really didn’t think I was at the level of stressed where I start crying.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Morpheus says firmly, leaving no room for discussion. “Why did you not tell me you were feeling this way?”

You scoff. “What, like I’m gonna bother you with my silly little human problems? Tell you that I’m stressed because of work and school and my friends? You have better things to worry about than that.”

“There is nothing more important to me than you. Not my power, nor my realm, nor my station–nothing. If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”

“Why?”

“I could sense the nature of your dreams, and the way that you kept waking up throughout the night. I assumed, however, that you would come to me first with your problems and that I would not have to seek you out.”

“So you forgot that stubbornness is one of my most endearing traits,” you say sheepishly. You had that very thought, that you should talk to Morpheus about how stressful your dreams were, but then talked yourself out of it due to believing he had better things to do than deal with one human’s dreams.

“Yes. My mistake.” The dryness of his tone makes you laugh a bit, and the relief on Morpheus’s face is palpable. “My love, you need not hide your worries from me.”

“I wasn’t trying to do so on purpose, I just…thought I could handle it myself.”

“Is it not part of a relationship that we both support and take care of each other?”

You nod begrudgingly. “It is.”

“You take care of me so ardently, in a way that nobody ever has before.” He brings his forehead to yours, sitting with you for a moment before he pulls back just enough to look at you again. When another tear escapes from your eye, he’s quick to meet it with his lips. “Won’t you allow me to return your kindness?”

“If you think you can handle it, then sure.” You’re still feeling a little self-deprecating, which, by the pout on his face, it’s obvious Morpheus doesn’t appreciate it.

“Caring for you is the easiest and most natural thing I’ve ever done.”

It’s obvious that he’s going to take you to the Dreaming, but you can’t help casting a helpless glance at your laptop, still sitting open on your desk. “I really need to finish my essay first.”

“No, what you need is to rest and relax, both of which you shall do in my realm. Your schoolwork will still be here when you return.”

“What if I just write, like, one more paragraph?” you try to barter.

Morpheus remains unimpressed. “If you’d prefer me to use force to get you to the Dreaming, I certainly can.”

“No, I don’t have the energy to put up a worthy fight.” With that admission, you have no choice but to let him lift you up into his arms so that he can take you with him to the Dreaming.

Plus, the more that you think about being pampered by your ethereally attractive, devoted, eldritch nightmare king of a boyfriend, the less that homework seems important. Not that you’re going to let him know that, though.

#morpheus #morpheus imagine #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #the sandman #the sandman imagine

305 notes · View notes

baejax-the-great · 4 days

Note

been wanting to write fic for the longest time, but i only really manage to make one shots

so i’m curious - how do you plan/start your fics, especially the long ones? do you ever write scenes that are five chapters ahead or do you write it in order?

thank u.. n i love ur work!!!!

I absolutely write scenes that are five chapters out. Sometimes those are the first scenes I write.

Usually my process starts like this: I think "wouldn't it be funny (or angsty af) if this thing happened?" And then I always say yes, because it would.

The next question is then, what caused that thing to happen, and what are the results (and are they also funny)?

This was actually a big struggle with Sunset In Your Veins. My original thought was just, "lmao, what if Achilles was cold and crying on a street corner. What if he thought it was Hell. What if he tried coffee. What if he wanted to fight the L. What if he stole a dog."

But none of those things is actually a story. Sure, Pat falling in love with him makes it a story, but what are the stakes?

This actually took me weeks to come up with (as I remember it anyway), and meanwhile I was adding more goofiness to Achilles in Chicago, writing whatever struck my fancy. Obviously he thinks the lake is a sea. He's going to LOVe the bean. They definitely have to watch Troy.

The only idea I could really get to work was turning it into a fairy tale. he's in Chicago because Aphrodite thought it would be fun, she's given him a challenge, and if he fails he dies. Also Aphrodite has said this is a "Reboot" so obviously Patroclus has to actually die at the end. This gave the overall fic some structure, and then I could get us from point A to point B in whatever way I found funniest.

I write my entire fics in one document, and when I get a silly idea I want to add to the fic, I add a descriptive header and then write the idea before I forget it. Here are some headers from WitD:

The ideas that are super solid, like Ambrosia, didn't need a lot of description because I knew exactly what was going to happen. The ones with question marks not so much.

I like using these headers because it's easy to skip back and forth to sections and reorder them, and I do this a lot. Like a lot.

I think a common pitfall for early writers is to start a fic because the premise rules, but not know how they are going to explain the premise or resolve the issues that stem from the premise. At least, I had this issue when I first posted longfic.

These days, I will only start posting a fic if I know how the story is going to resolve, and something like 'they live happily ever after' isn't what I mean. I have to know exactly how they are going to get that happily ever after, so in the case of Sunset, Pat's death was written within the first third of of me writing the story. Once I knew I had to get them to that intersection, happy, on the cusp of the deadline, and for Achilles to still be wearing stupid ass shoes, then it was a matter of figuring out *how* to get them there.

What has to happen for two people to fall in love? What has to happen for these two people to decide falling in love is worth it despite the massive cultural differences (and the rest of it)? What would give Aphrodite the most satisfaction with her game? What parts of Chicago/modern life would torture/delight Achilles the most? How will Pat reconcile his two identities? How would Ajax?

In a way, I fill the story in both backward and forward.

HOWEVER. One-shots are awesome. Because sometimes you don't want to world-build or work out the logic of the situation or give everyone a backstory or resolve shit. Sometimes you just have a kick ass scene in your mind and that is good enough.

#honestly sitting here looking at my chaptered fics and thinking #when did I stop writing one shots and why #why am I doing this #bring back the one shot

10 notes · View notes

galvanizedfriend · 1 month

Note

Hi Yokan 👋

I have questions

First question - how’re you doing? Hope life hasn’t been too stressful for you!

Second question - have you been reading anything that has really resonated with you in the last couple of weeks/months.

Third (and most weird) question - if you could choose a superpower what would you choose? (Dumb question I know😂)

Fourth question - most proud moment in your writing career.

And final question - how’s writing going with the Wolf? Hope you’ve not struggled too much in starting it!

hope your doing okay! ❤️

Hi, friend! How's it going?

Can I just say, it's so lovely to get all these questions! ✨ I love this so much, thank you! 💝

First: I'm ok! Work is always stressful these days, I don't think it's going to give me a break until at least September. 😂 But it's not the worst right now. Tomorrow is my birthday and I just the best piece of chocolate cake humanity has to offer, so I'm cool right now. 😇 Just wish tomorrow wasn't Monday. 🥲

Second: I have read 7 books this year so far, but nothing that's stood out as being great, sadly. :( Still haven't had a 5 stars. I finished a thriller called None of This is True by Lisa Jewell which was pretty good, if you're into thrillers. 4 stars, maybe.

In terms of fanfiction, I've have been reading random pieces of non-Kc fic, as per usual 😂 But I have also read The Little Wolf by @morningstargirl666, which is absolutely fantastic, if you haven't read it yet. It's a retelling of the show's canon about the Original family and how they were turned into vampires, with special focus on Klaus' werewolf heritage, and it's so, so, so good! And so much better than canon! It actually gives depth to the siblings' relationships, and it has so many little nods to what we know of them in the future. Beautifully woven! I have also read Till I Tasted You by @kirythestitchwitch, which is a canon divergent AU where a spell goes wrong and Caroline ends up finding out Klaus is her soulmate. It's hot, it has absolutely nom-nom-able dialogues and A+++ interactions between KC, it features Damon getting his ass kicked! I don't know, it's just the whole package. 🤌

Third: This would be a very weird question if I hadn't spent an irrational amount of time thinking about that. 😂 I guess it really depends on what kind of universe you mean, because it varies. But I would very much like to have telekinesis like Prue in Charmed.

Fourth: That's a tough one. I'm an extremely critical person of my own writing, so it's hard for me to feel proud of stuff I've done tbh. 😂 But I think I was pretty proud when I finished The Wolf 2. It's not my personal favorite thing I've ever written, but I think it's probably my best written story. I really like the final part of that story, the way I managed to tie it back to TVD, I think it was very full circle and made the story a lot more unique. I also had a lot of fun writing the Mikaelsons and Caroline back in Mystic Falls after the time they spent in Nola. 😂 So maybe that.

Final: It's... going. 🥲 I took a pause after writing two chapters back to back, tried to work on some other stuff, and then I circled back to it. I've actually just started the next chapter, have a couple of scenes. I don't think this first chapter will be a long one, but I think it will take a lot of editing tbh. 😂 I haven't been at most inspired right now, so not sure how much of what I've written will stand the test of a re-read. I had plans to get a chapter out before the end of the month, but I'm not sure I'll manage it. 🥲 We'll see how this week goes. Pray for me.

Thanks for the questions, friend! I hope you have a wonderful week! ✨

#yokan answers #marginally-accurate #nice people being nice

9 notes · View notes

karahalloway · 11 months

Text

Sleepless in New York: Chapter 10 - Darkfall

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: Drake tries to navigate a rough night...

Word Count: 5,300

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, angst, obsessive-compulsive exercise, sexual fantasy, masturbation)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Sorry this took soooo long to get out! As per usual, real life has been exceptionally busy, so I haven't had as much time to write as I'd like to.

A/N2: This is also my slightly belated submission for World Whiskey Day, hosted by @drake-walker-appreciation, and the prompt that this fits with (more or less) is 'The whiskey burns my throat like her absence burns my soul.'

A/N3: I just realised that this kinda (maybe?) qualifies for the @springfeverpitch event that was on this week (Apologies! There are a lot of events on at the moment!) In any case, this would count as domestic x home run I guess 😅

Chapter 10 - Darkfall

I kick the covers off with an irate growl.

Un-fuckin'-believable...

After the shitshow of a day I've had, I should be running on fumes.

And I am.

Yet for some reason, I’m not able to nod off. Despite the fact that I've been on the go since 6am and have barely gotten any shut-eye the night before.

Because my body’s apparently a sucker for punishment and doesn’t seem to know when to quit. And even though I know I desperately need the recharge, I also know that staying in bed’s gonna achieve nothing 'cept hypertension.

So, swinging my legs out onto the carpet with a tight-set jaw, I reach for my phone.

02:18

I run a heavy hand through my hair.

The hell am I gonna do for the next six hours?

My eyes land almost unwittingly on the ragged shirt-tail peeking over the edge of the trash can.

I rip my gaze away with gritted teeth.

No. Absolutely fucking not.

It’a bad enough that I walked out on Gale without so much as a half-assed explanation. I ain’t gonna compound my dick-like behaviour by showing up at her door in the middle of the night, demanding to pick up where we left off.

Especially not after everything I've already subjected her to today — getting her fired, burning her in front of her friends, pulling her into a fight, dragging her on a forced route march 'cross town, and then literally ripping the shirt off her back. And, if that isn’t bad enough, I topped off her night by dumping the proverbial clutch on her when I should've been taking her for the ride of her life.

I swallow painfully. No. That ship had definitely sailed...

Which means it’s high time to take my own fuckin' advice and get her — and this entire mess of a day — out of my head.

No excuses.

And since the overpriced mini bar had let me down, I’m down to my only alternative — running myself into the ground.

Pushing myself up with a resigned exhale, I trudge over to my duffle. Reaching in, I extract the exercise shorts and t-shirt that always forms part of my go-bag, no matter where I went. Because you never know when you’re gonna need to blow off some steam. And going for a run’s a damn sight healthier than disappearing down the neck of a bottle. Even if the latter’s a helluva lot more convenient.

Throwing the clothes on, along with some socks and my well-worn trainers, I turn back to the bedside table to grab my phone and gun...

...and catch sight of the shirt again.

Motherfucker.

Jamming the phone and the Sig into my pockets — it always pays be prepared then be left holding your dick when shit inevitably hits the fan — I march over to the bin and yank the accursed thing out.

Scrunching it up, I turn on my heel, and stomp out of the room, snatching the keycard up on the way. Wrenching the door open, I let it bang shut behind me as I head down the corridor.

I cannot catch one goddamn break tonight...

Reaching the lifts, I briefly contemplate calling one. But given that I’m already wound tighter than a two-dollar watch, I know I won’t be able to stand the wait, no matter how brief.

So, I divert instead to the fire exit. Pulling the heavy door open, I throw myself into a jog and take the stairs upwards two at a time.

I guess I could've just as easily gone downstairs. But I don’t trust myself not to wind up at Gale's brownstone again if I hit the streets. Which means that the only place I can conceivably go is to the top-floor gym.

Which — all things considered — is probably the better bet anyway. Because going for a jog in the dead of night around the City That Never Sleeps is a risk not worth taking. And even though Central Park’s less than a block away, it’s not actually an option, given that (a) it’s shut overnight, and (b) it isn’t the best lit, and I don’t particularly feel like getting jumped by a knife wielding yahoo, or twisting an ankle on an uneven path.

Plus, I'd have to be a monumental idiot to even think about leaving Chris unattended again. Not that I expect to him go anywhere at this hour — except maybe all the way with Hayley. But I’m not about to make the same mistake twice in one day.

Christ knows I paid for it hard the first time 'round...

I feel my legs start to burn as I continue to climb relentlessly. But knowing that this is exactly what I need if I’m to have any hope of catching some zzz's tonight, I ignore the discomfort and push myself on.

Arriving on the 25th floor, I pause on the landing to catch my breath. But the short burst of exercise has merely thrown me a second wind. I still have a long way to go if I want to waste myself completely.

So, moving over to the stairwell door, I pull it open and step into the gym. Given the lateness of the hour, there's not a soul in sight, and it's just me and the view.

But there’s one thing I need to take care of first.

Locating the changing rooms, I head inside. And before I can think too much on it, or change my mind, I stride over to the dirty towel hamper and chuck the ruined shirt in...

...and dump a few towels on top of it for good measure.

Dead and buried.

Spinning quickly around, I exit the way I'd come, focusing my attention on the row of TechnoGym treadmills that face out onto the distantly twinkling lights of Harlem in the north, and not on how twisted my guts feel all of a sudden.

Picking a machine, I pull my phone and sidearm out of my pockets and place them onto the console so they won’t bang against my thighs as I ran, but still remained within reach in case I need them.

Taking a deep breath, I step resolutely onto the belt and hit go on a program at random.

The pace starts off sedately, barely faster than a speed walk. Reaching up to the console, I tap the speed up impatiently, not wanting to waste time on a warm-up I don’t need and most definitely don’t want.

I’n here to burn rubber.

The motor kicks into a higher gear, but it's not enough. Even though I’m now at a steady jog, my heart rate's barely above resting and I've yet to break a sweat. Not to mention the fact that my mind’s still fixating on the very thing I need to flush out of my system.

Gale, legs spread and head thrown back, moaning my name...

Raising my hand with a growl, I slap the panel again... and again... and again... until the belt is a blur beneath my feet and I'm pelting it like a demented bat outta hell.

The sudden speed forces my body into overdrive. My chest expands, my focus narrows, and my blood begins to pump in earnest, trying to supply my body with oxygen faster than it was being consumed.

I fall into a breakneck rhythm, limbs pumping to the rapid beat of my breath in a desperate effort to stay on the treadmill.

In... In... In... In... Out... Out... Out... Out...

The minutes and the miles tick past on the screen in front of me, but I barely register the stats. I'm too busy chasing oblivion...

...which remains stubbornly out of reach.

Because even as I push myself to the limit and my lungs start to burn and my muscles start to cramp, I can't escape her. She's still there, hazel-green eyes dancing on the edge of my awareness, the honey scent of her hair tickling my senses like smoke on the breeze.

And even as my vision begins to swim and the relentless pace pushes me to the verge of puking, I don't let myself ease up. Because that would be an admission of defeat and I’m not the type to quite that easy.

Not when there’s so much on the line.

Because beyond the fact that I let myself become consumed by a girl I barely know — an unhealthy and unsustainable hang-up that I need to nip in the bud, pronto — my continued preoccupation also ended up endangering Chris' life tonight.

And that’s inexcusable.

Not only is the guy the heir to a fuckin' throne, but he is my best — and arguably only — friend. And I let him down, both personally and professionally, by allowing myself to get distracted, just because a pretty set of legs had walked by.

And while I somehow managed to salvaged my colossal fuck-up, and we all walked away tonight without any casualties, I probably won’t m be able to pull a miracle like that out of my ass every time.

Nor should I expect to.

Especially not during the social season, when Chris is going to be constantly in the spotlight, shaking hands, being interviewed, always in an exposed setting. All it would take is one moment of distraction, one second of lost focus, for someone to pull a gun, to slip through the crowd, for our worlds to come crashing down.

And I’m not gonna let Chris — my brother — down like that.

I can’t.

So, doubling down, I dig deep and continue to pound the vestiges of my frustrations, my failings, and my regret relentlessly into the treadmill, the hard and fast staccato of my feet against the machine echoing around the otherwise empty space.

I have no clue how long I run for. Minutes? Hours? It makes no difference. Every wheeze feels like my last, every exertion a desperate attempt to break free of the purgatory of mistakes I trapped myself in.

And still I push on. Until I hit the proverbial wall and collapse against it, my vision blurry, my limbs shaking, my clothes drenched.

I stand there for what feels like eternity, feet straddling either side of the machine, the belt still whizzing at breakneck speed beneath me while I cling to the console like a life-line, trying to catch my breath.

And eventually my heart-rate slows, the buzzing in my ears clears, and I regain enough coherence to lift a hand and slap the treadmill off.

Pushing myself up to a standing position as the machine whirls to a stop, I wipe the sweat from my eyes and glance at the screen in front of me.

10 miles. 56 minutes.

I scoff wryly. Well, fuck me if that ain’t a new personal best... Who knew that self-pity could be such a potent motivator...?

Exiting the menus, I grab my stuff and move to step off the machine... only to very narrowly avoid face planting into the floor.

Oh, shit...!

Grabbing the console, I shake my head to try and clear the sudden nausea.

Christ, I feel awful...

My eyes land on the water fountain and I lurch towards it like a drunk out of a bar. Because that’s exactly how I feel like — sluggish, light-headed and stumbling around like a newborn calf. Which is no surprise considering I've just run the best part of half a marathon as if the Devil himself had been after me, having consuming nothing but two bottles of beer beforehand.

Apparently I do hate myself.

Managing to make it to the far wall without any incident — just — I lean over the dispenser to inhale the cool stream of water, nearly making myself choke in the process.

But I know I need to rehydrate myself, otherwise I’m gonna be in a world of pain in a few hours' time. So, after overcoming the initial shock to my system, I force myself to loosen up on the pace and start taking longer and slower gulps.

Having finally satisfied my body's cravings, I let go of the dispenser button to run the back of a trembling hand over my water-soaked mouth.

Sweet Jesus, I’m a mess...

I can’t remember the last time I pushed myself this hard on a workout.

But then I've never felt this way before... Like I’m an idiot, like I missed the pass, like I’m stuck in a maze with no way out.

And even though the hard run had managed to clear my mind, that latent feeling of... something is still there, writhing just beneath the surface, like an unscratchable itch under my skin.

And maybe it'll never go fully away. But I’m not about to give up without putting in a damn good fight.

Pushing myself up, I turn towards the pool. And even though I haven’t brought any swim trunks with me, my feet are already pulling me towards the siren call of the water.

Because if there’s one thing that’a guaranteed to set me right, it’s a full-body dunk.

Arriving at the side of the pool, I peel my sweat-soaked clothes off, leaving only my boxers on for the sake of modesty in case someone happens to walk in.

Taking a breath, I step out over the edge and plunge straight in.

The sting of salt hits my nose — not the same flavour as the Med, but then no pool’s ever gonna compete with that — as the water envelopes me and I let myself sink below the surface.

I hit the bottom and the echoey silence settles like a blanket around me, soothing my senses, taming my pulse.

I've always loved the water. Even before I could walk, I'd make a butt-shuffling beeline towards the end of the beach where the waves crashed onto the shore, unveiling a treasure trove of crabs, seashells and shiny rocks.

Of course, Mom'd been terrified that I'd get swept out to sea, or drown. So, to appease her fear, Dad had started taking me to swim lessons — first at the local therapy pool, but graduating quickly to the higher classes in the lap pool as I learnt to float, hold my breath, and leap off the diving board, all by the age of three.

From there my obsession only grew. I joined the school swim team, the water polo team, and even got certified as a lifeguard over the course of one summer. In short, I spent almost as much time in the water as out of it.

And then Chris introduced me to sailing.

At first I couldn't see the appeal of drifting around the Med on a sofa-sized boat when you could be swimming in it. But I've never been able to say 'no' to my best friend, so when he insisted I join him for a spin around the marina in his new Wayfarer one evening, I'd begrudgingly said yes. And had become instantly hooked. The speed, the technical precision, the feeling of flying over the water — it was all addictive.

Jack Sparrow'd had it right when he'd said that a ship is not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails. Because even though those things are integral to the make-up of any craft, what a ship — or yacht, or catamaran, or any other vessel — really is, is freedom.

And for a restless 14 year-old, there was nothing more attractive than ditching the world to hang out with your buddy in the middle of the ocean, free of worries or adult supervision, just enjoying the endless view while you fished and talked about nothing in particular.

Of course, being teenagers, we were bound to get ourselves into deep water — quite literally. Which is how we ended up deciding that it'd be a great idea to take out a much larger sloop one evening... only to end up paying for that mistake when a storm decided to roll in out of the blue, catching us off guard and capsizing our craft.

And while that particular misadventure had ended up turning Chris off sailing once and for all, it had made me even more determined to get back out onto the water and obtain my ICC license. Which I did, the following summer.

And even though I no longer have Chris to share my maritime adventures with, my love of sailing — and of being out on the water — never diminished.

Because the sea is — and always has been — my personal haven.

Feeling my lungs start to itch from the lack of oxygen, I reluctantly open my eyes and kick back up to the surface.

But I don't feel like returning to dry land just yet.

So, drawing a quick breath, I stretch myself out and dip into an easy freestyle. Half-a-dozen strokes and I reach the edge of the pool. Diving down, I flip myself around to kick off the wall, resurfacing into a backstroke.

I repeat the pattern for about ten laps, enjoying the rare sense of peace that comes with gliding weightlessly through the water, strokes moving effortlessly in time with my breath.

Eventually, though, I’m forced to call it quits as my body finally runs out of steam and my rhythm starts to falter.

Grabbing onto the edge of the pool, I pause to catch my breath, arms and shoulders tingling from the exertion...

...and I suddenly realise that I'm starving.

Which, all things considered, is hardly surprising. The last time I had anything to eat was at that Midtown stake-house at dinner-time, which was over eight hours ago. And since then I've probably burnt through 800 calories' worth of pure stress, not to mention all the physical exertion I've put myself through. So, my blood sugar levels are shot.

Pulling myself out of the water, I pad over to the other side of the pool to collect my gear.

I briefly contemplate having a shower, but quickly ditch the idea on the basis that (a) I hadn't brought a change of clothes with me, and (b) I can’t trust myself not to go rooting for the ruined shirt that I ditched in the changing rooms earlier.

So, brushing off the worst of the water, I head straight for the lifts.

I’m not expecting to cross paths with anyone at whatever time in the morning it is. And if I do... well, they can suck it up. It's not like I’m walkin' around buck-ass naked.

Arriving back on our booked-out floor, I make my way to my room. Fishing the keycard out of the pocket of my shorts, I let myself in and flick the door closed behind me.

Dropping my exercise kit by my duffle, I locate the 24-hour room service menu and do a quick scan of the options.

A couple of items jump out at me, but knowing that I'll probably have breakfast with the guys in a few hours' time, I don’t want to have anything too heavy.

But then my eyes land on the cheeseburger, and before I can think twice about it, I've reached for the hotel phone and I'm putting the order through.

And even though I tell myself that it's because I never got to finish the one back at the dive bar two nights ago, I know that I'm lying to myself...

...so, I add a bottle of whiskey to the order for good measure.

Because I don’t want to blow up all my hard work by falling back into the same emotional sink hole that I only very narrowly managed to drag myself out of just now. So, I need something to distract myself.

Hanging up, I quickly sort my sweaty clothes out and stow them in the duffle before making my way into the bathroom to have another shower.

Once done, I throw on my jeans and a t-shirt (not bothering with socks or underwear) and flick the wall-mounted TV on to find something to pass the time with while I wait for the food to show up.

Not seeing any movies or series that particularly interest me, I eventually settle on a rerun of an old Pats game...

...but I find my mind wandering.

And it doesn't take long for my treacherous sub-conscious to dig up the very images that have been stalking me all night.

Gale, up in my face out on the club balcony, testing my limits and my sanity with that sassy smile of hers...

Gale, head thrown back and ass pressed up against me as we move to the techno-beat on the crowded dance-floor...

Gale, legs wrapped around me as her nails rake over my skin, fighting to get my shirt off as my tongue invades her mouth...

I groan despite myself, shifting uncontrollably on top of the covers...

...and realise that I've already lost the battle.

Shit.

My eyes land ruefully on the tell-tale tent pole straining the front of my pants.

I huff out a tight exhale.

If there'd been one thing I wanted to avoid tonight, it’s this...

Because I know that as soon as I dip a toe in that particular Rubicon, I’m screwed. And not in a good way.

Because when you've been continuously pushed to the edge, only to be yanked back each and every time from the precipice of release, a plain ol' wank just isn’t gonna do it.

Sure, jacking one out relieved the immediacy of the pent up need. But it’s never gonna hold a candle to the real thing. In part because it’s over in minutes and in part because cumming into your own hand feels about as satisfying as throwing yourself a one-man pity party.

Because sex is a team sport. And trying to run a solo play — when you know what the real thing feels like — is always gonna fall short of expectations. Because when you’re on your own, there’s no one to share the thrill with. To kiss, to tease, to fuck to the limit before letting go so you can finally implode into each other.

Which is why I'd tried my damnedest to exhaust myself so I wouldn't find myself in this situation. At least not until we were back in Cordonia, and I could avail myself of some options...

...'cept now I don’t have a choice.

Not unless I want to greet the bell hop with a raging hard-on...

Because unfortunately for me, my dick has apparently decided that it'd had enough of being baited, and is now gonna bend me over the barrel to get what it wants.

Regardless of the fact that it’s gonna be a massive let-down for both of us.

So, even as I try to shift my focus back to the Pats game — and sideline my ever-growing erection — all I manage to achieve is an even more persistent itch in my pants.

Because despite my resistance, we both know that thanks to the missed opportunity with Gale, chances are good that I’m not gonna find anything resembling decent satisfaction until after the Masquerade Ball.

As even though we'll be arriving back to a Palace teeming with all manner of women — from maids to staff to nobles — that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be casting a net. In fact, just the opposite. I’m not the type to shit where I eat (it causes too much unnecessary mess) and I learnt my lesson about fucking aristos the hard way.

Which means that unless I’m planning to shell out for a call girl — hell'd have to freeze over first — a self-administered hand-job is gonna have to tide me over until there’s a big enough gap in my schedule that I can get away from the Palace for a couple of hours and find some stress relief.

I heave a low breath. Fuck my fuckin' life...

But knowing that I've backed myself into a corner, I reach resignedly for my belt. Unhooking the buckle, I fling it to the side to expose the top button of my jeans. Snapping the fastening open with one hand, I yank the zip down with the other.

The denim falls away and my dick springs free of its confines, its rigid length snapping to attention like an overeager hound that has just caught a scent.

And even though this particular outing isn’t gonna end in the long, hard run we both know we need, that doesn't stop the damn thing from drooling like a mutt in anticipation.

Setting my jaw, I shove my jeans down over my hips, half-heartedly wishing I had some lube or something to try and improve this runaway train-wreck as I reach south...

...and groan out loud as my hand wraps around the warm shaft.

Goddamn...

I’m apparently more deprived than I realised. Though, I guess that shouldn't come as a massive surprise. Especially after the near constant edging that Gale subjected me to tonight, combined with the fact that it's been a good two weeks since the last time I managed to eke out time for a fuck. And that had been mediocre at best.

As if to emphasise the point, my dick bucks against palm, and it's clear that I have a lot of mitigating to do.

Sliding my fist firmly down, then back up again, I set about stoking up a rhythm. And even though it's nothing different to what I've done hundreds of times before, something about the familiar friction sparks an instant fire in my veins.

Maybe it's 'cause I’m exhausted... Maybe it's 'cause my mind’s a mess... Maybe it's 'cause I've gone cold turkey for too long...

But whatever it is, it’s sending me into a tailspin.

I feel my head tip back against the headboard with a low moan as I'm pulled rapidly under by the throes of my self-gratification.

And as my eyes shudder closed in the face of the rising tension, I give myself up to the darkest depths of my desire...

...and in a blink of an eye, I’m back in that cramped apartment, gazing up at Gale from between her legs, the imminence of her climax written on her face, the slickness of her arousal coating my mouth and tongue.

I groan into her as she grips my hair, urging me on with her increasingly desperate pleas, her body quivering above me as she careers towards the edge...

...and I’m suddenly possessed by an all-consuming urge to have her.

Shooting to my feet, with her legs still wrapped around my shoulders, I send her sprawling back over the top of the kitchen counter.

Because I know that we don’t have much time, and if I’m gonna make this happen, we need to do it hard and fast.

And I’m not gonna let myself disappoint her again.

Grabbing her by the waist, I yank her towards me. Her hazel-green eyes widen in shock as her ass dips over the edge of the counter. But my grip on her is unshakeable and she's not going anywhere.

Not yet anyway.

Not until I've fucked her six ways 'til Sunday, and even then I probably won’t let her leave.

Because this girl sets me on fire like nobody else, and I need her to burn with me.

Bending down to give her decadent folds one more self-indulgent lick, I steady her with one hand while I rip my belt and jeans open with the other, not able to take my eyes off her as she writhed before me.

"Drake...!"

The sound of my name slipping off her lips like a fervent prayer unleashes something feral inside of me. Something I didn't even know existed in the dark recesses of my soul. Something that instantly swallows whatever vestiges of rational thought I have left, leaving only one, single-minded purpose:

To make her mine.

And in some corner of my brain I know I should be terrified. Of this rabid hunger that she's unwittingly awakened within me. Of the fact that I can’t control it... and don’t want to.

But I'm already past the point of no return. And I can’t give a rat's ass.

Because the only thing I care about is fulfilling that unspoken obsecration of hers until she’s ruined for all other men.

Shoving my jeans and boxers down with a growl, I grab her hips and ram myself into her in one, brutal motion.

Her wet heat engulfs me, taking me fully, causing my eyes to roll back into my head as I revel in the sheer euphoria of her, her deep-throated cry of agreement rising up around me.

Christ, she feels amazing!

And if the mere act of being inside her doesn’t already feel like pure rapture, she then decides to up the ante even further.

"Fuck me, Drake," she demands, arching her lower back forward.

A guttural sound rattles my throat as she rolls her hips against me, cranking up the torsion as she pulls me in even deeper.

And I could've lost it then and there.

But somehow — whether through sheer force of will, or by the grace of God — I manage to tamp down the rapidly rising swell in order to heed her command.

Because this isn’t about me. This is about her. And I’m gonna make damn sure that she gets what she wants before I let myself cum inside her.

Even if it kills me.

Opening my eyes, I meet her hazel-green gaze with an affirmative smirk. "Yes, ma'am."

She wraps her legs around me expectantly...

...and I slam us together roughly, loudly, unapologetically.

She gasps beneath me, hands flying to the edge of the counter to grip it like an anchor in a storm, her entire body reverberating with the impact of our collisions.

But I don't stop. I can't. I pound into her like a man possessed... because I am. All semblance of logic, of reason, of God-given sense has evaporated and I devolve into the basest version of myself, one that is driven purely by lust and instinct.

And even though I know I won't be able to hold out, that I'll cave in the face of her rhapsodic screams and the almost painful pressure she’s putting on my dick, I'm powerless to pull the e-brake. If anything, it makes me rev the throttle even harder.

Because she just feels too damn good, and I've been at her mercy from the start.

Lifting my head, I lock eyes with her. And in those lust-blown, hazel-green depths, I see more than just need... more than just passion.

I see complete faith.

And it undoes me.

I explode into her with a ragged, animalistic cry, my body jerking with the force of my deliverance.

"Holy... fuck!"

The long-coveted wave of release crashes over me, wiping away my thoughts and my vision, and I'd be convinced that I passed out were it not for the high-pitched ringing in my ears and the thundering of my heart.

A few more pumps, a shuddered breath as the last swell rises, and I’m left drained, floating.

I stay there, motionless, revelling in that all-too brief moment of calm before the chaos of the world spins back up around me.

Sweet Jesus, that w—

Her warm lips brush against my sweat-streaked forehead, her honey-camomile scent drifting over me like a drunken haze...

I move to lean into her. "Harp—"

...but she's already gone.

The story continues in Chapter 11 - Cold Light of Day

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fangirling12566 @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @choicesficwriterscreations

Sleepless in New York only

@bebepac

Picture Credits

Insomnia - Dawn - New York - Run - Swim - Drake - Pool

#drake walker #sleepless in new york #world whiskey day #drake walker appreciation #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #drake x mc #harper gale #the royal romance #trr au fanfic

51 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 2 years

Text

The Punisher (2001) #16 and 17 Review: The One Where Frank Castle Does Violence to Wolverine’s Testicles (Comission for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people. And for those just scrolling by the punisher, wolverine or x-men tags and wondering “wait did this actually happen” Yes, yes it did. This story not only happened but somehow Frank Castle taking a bat to Wolverine’s junk after making him look like a partially unfinished terminator is NOT the weirdest thing in this story. So if that’s got you hooked welcome, i’m jake, I review comics and animation and today we got a weird one and just in time too.

See over the last week i’ve dealt with a lot. Last friday Bobbi, a woman who was like a third mother ot me, always there for me and mom, always nice, always taking us out to dinner.. passed away from cancer. It has been a hard week, harder still since I was SUPPOSED to have cut my schedule back by a day.. but the grief over the situation hit me so hard last week I had to push the watchmen review back to this week. So ending it by having a laugh at a so bad it’s good comic by a guy who actively hates superhero comics to an absurd degree, it helps honestly. I needed to review some garbage that dosen’t offend me on a deep level and is instead just fun to point and laugh at, and these issues delivered.

So some backstory for those just joining us: Late last year I covered the fourth volume of The Boys Comic Book. It was a work I had avoided for years due to being an overly cynical, overly edgelord, and overly half assed deconstruction of superheroes by a man who openly did not grow up with them, does not like them and does not want to get how they work. As such I had to deal with panels.. like this.

(Not from the arc but I read all four volumes up to it so it goes in there)

I had to put up with this for THIRTY ISSUES to have proper context. This comic was worse than I could’ve imagined.

So the reason I bring this up besides to let you feel my pain is that to properly research for this tire fire, I read this very arc i’m reviewing today for research, as I had heard ennis hated wolverine so much he had an arc where he gets his face shot off, gets hit in the junk, gets his dong shot, and then gets run over by a steamroller. And yes.. all that happens. This arc is a petty, spiteful take that at a character garth dosen’t like to glorify a character he idolizes. It is also incredibly stupid, mildly offensive, and insane in a way that really puts his “comics aren’t realistic but punisher is” brand of nonsense in perspective. And i’ll show you why under the cut as we point and laugh at Garth Ennis to show people why his hero is better than yours.

So before we dive in, I should give my thoughts on what I think of the Punisher and Wolverine himself.

For the Punisher.. i’m not a fan. He CAN be used well as seen when he intersects with daredevil, and i’ve LIKED some punisher runs. I still want to read war journal as what I have is really good, Ennis MAX run ironically enough is a brilliant decounstruction of the character , paticuarlly the bonechilling vietnam set “born” mini series that kicks it off, and while his other works are mostly questionable, I loved Matthew Rosenbergs run. The character can be well written and engaging... but he’s just not for me.. as for why it’s mostly a prefrence thing. I’m just not into taxi driver style dives into a bad man on the edge shooting people. I CAN enjoy psychlogical character pieces, I absolutely love american psycho for that, and darker subject matter.. but the punisher just never clicks for me. It’s all mostly just a cycle of examining a bad man doing thigns to worse men with no real change or upheavel. While given his recent work i’m not sure he can pull it off, at least jason aaron is trying something new making him head of the hand. Outside of some dallances with being a franketein or a war machine, Frnak’s really just stuck in a never ending feedback loop of misery. And while granted most heroes are prone to resetting, it’s a sad fate of comic books, frank is the most frustrating; He will NEVEr answer for the shit he’s done and given he could easily be replaced by someone else with a hard past in a gun, I don’t get why. If you like Punisher, tha’ts fine, good for you. But he’s not for me. With that said I did judge this comic fairly, as I said I liked ennis other punisher work and the character can be written well. This is just not one of his better stories.. and he’s been an angel once so that threshold is vast. Next up is

Who I do like quite a bit. Given i’m a fan of the x-men this shoudln’t be a huge suprise but while he’s not one of my personal faviorite mutants like say Cypher, Sunspot, Multiple Man, Strong Guy, Wolfsbane, Scarlet Witch (She’s still one to me dammit), Warlock or everyone’s faviorite sexy murder gilf Magneto, but I still like Logan quite a bit. He’s a character with a lot of intresting angels to approach from: he can be a man struggling with the beast within, a man whose lived a thousand lives and either has to recover them, reckon with them, or LIVE with those memories in the past few decades. On a team he’s invaluable, often serving as the suprising blunt voice of reason, willing to say shit people won’t or confront them and keep them honest, while also being a man so willing to stand up for his convictions he’ll split the x-men in half if that’s what it takes. I will concede though he’s very much a character whose tolerablility varies on thew riter: the good ones do the things I said above.. the bad ones will either reduce him to grumbly snikit man with no limits to who he won’t skewer instead of gneinely limiting it to what’s ABSOLUTELY necessary, or in worst cases have him try to murder a 15 year old time displaced cyclops because the future one, WHILE POSSED BY THE PHOENIX FORCE MIND YOU, killed Charles. Despite being a TEACHER. I.. I do not look forward to the inventible day I have to unpack the shit show that is All-New X-Men. But on the whole he’s a strong character and as we’ll get to in just a sec, Ennis REALLY dosen’t understand that nor did he care to.

Before we get to that though we have our setup: The Punisher has, as he helpfully puts it himself so I don’t have to read the 15 issues prior, recently thrown the east coast mob into chaos: After taking down the head, Tony Casino, the body is left fighting amongst themselves in chaos.. which naturally benfits frank as it makes him easier to wipe out his preferred prey when their confused and makes things safer when they can’t function properly. One of the remaning sub-bosses though, Big Tony Grigorio, is making some actual headway to getting everyone together so Frank plans to make his brains come apart.. only to find the place already massacred with all the legs sawed off. Ain’t that just the way? You break into a mob hangout to shoot them all up and someone’s taken all the fun out of it. And if you think there’s a mop in the punisher’s battle van.. well there is but it’s sure as hell not for this. It’s for keeping that van impaculate and choking info out of people, like all mops.

The next scene we enter the wolverine..and if you’ve never read this issue before.. you aren’t prepared for the delightfully stupid clusterfuck that is Garth Ennis’ Wolverine

OKay so as you might of noticed Wolverine sounds like the lovechild of The Ultimate Warrior and Scott Stieiner and is half as coherent. Ennis’ Wolvie is a rambly weirdo who won’t shut up, kills people over minor disputes, and calls himself the canucklehead for some reason, a phrase I don’t belivie has EVER been used for the character and if it has it’s not enough to warrant use this much in a parody. Seriously he calls himself that.

Ennis’ wolvie TRIES to be a parody, Ennis trying to show how Wolvie just isn’t a good character and here’s why Punisher is better. And you CAN have your characters show why their better: one of the most famous superman stories “Whatever Happened To Truth, Justice and the American Way” is like that, having Superman fight a pastiche of the authority while showing why he still matters. But this isn’t a discussion on why a type of hero still works despite some audeinces finding him tiresome, or WHY wolverine might not work. This is a man getting paid actual dollary doos to write n edgelord fanfic about why wovlerine sucks.

These issues try to sell it as frank is better.. but to even attempt so they essentially reset Wolverine to what he was like when he first joined the x-men. And make no mistake Early Wolverine is a massive walking erection who will kill anyone friend or foe and is barely kept in check by cyclops> Case in point here’ shim nearly murdering what would become one of his best friends over the dumbest reasons imaginable.

Yes that REALLY happened. and yes wolverine was a swaggering, chatty jackass who tried to murder a friend. The thing is.. he GREW from there. He slowly grew to care for his teamates, with again the guy he just tried to carve up like an mmmm turkey being one of his best pals to this day. He tried to reign himself in, slowly making it clear he hated being a savage beast of a man but had resigned himself to it. But it was also clear there was more to him: he had a snarky side, was loyal, and when backed against the wall in the dark phoenix saga, helped turn the tide against the hellfire club. This all cumilated in the classic Wolverine mini by Claremont and Miller, where Wolverine was driven to his lowest and forced to accept he truly was a man, defining his character forever after. Wolverine is a man who both struggles not to kill.. but accepts sometimes he must so the others don’t have to. While Frank Castle kills because he has a driven obession he needs health with and won’t stop till he’s dad, Logan does it so his friends will never have to become what he’s been forced ot be his whole life, and sometimes questions if he should even go that far. It’s who he is.

And just to make sure Garth hadn’t just been commenting on a recent trend I peeked at a few issues of his solo, both form the time and a few years before that, just to see if this parody had any weight based on comics I hadn’t reader, and they are as follows for transparency purposes:

150, 158 (A Raptor), 189, 145, 131, 145, 147, 176, 181

And not only was Logan’s characterization consistent despite four or five diffrent writers, but the one time he was unstable.. was when he had been going feral for several months anyway, and was so laid low he was willing to work with apocalypse, itself not the best metric. And I checked some late 90′s x-men comics too just to be sure and while they aren’t the comics finest hour, still not rambling snikit bub. X-Men (Adjetivless to make sure logan was in it) 65, 74, 106, and 108. And as for the main title at the time of this book.. that waas New X-men.. which i’ve not only covered the three arcs of but was one of my faviorite comics... so yeah Garth isn’t even parodying some new phnemonion he stumbled acrossed. He made a judgey assumption instead of actually picking up a single issue of x-men or wolverine. And look it was the early 2000′s, i’m aware trades were in their infancy if they existed at all, and getting back issues probably wasn’t INCREDIBLY easy.. but Ennis has said himself on the boys that working at the big two he got to see plenty of comics, and given this was post comic bust it wouldn’t be THAT hard to say, go into a comic shop, check out the bargin bin and swipe a few issues of wolverine to check to see if your justified, especially since this is a CANON story starring this character. I’m mildly suprised he even got away with this, with the x-office not even bothering ot check what he was doing. I get punisher was overseen by marvel knights.. but marvel knights was canon. Karen Paige’s death has stuck with daredevil ever since and Black Panther still once beat Mephisto after he tricked a guy into selling his soul for some pants.

So there is NO excuse for not telling the x-office “hey is it cool of Garth fucks with your bread and butter? Kay thanks” The only reason the suprise is mild .. is that comic books have done this shit since time began. Simply allowed a character be poorly portrayed by a book or creator because of artstic lisence, the creator being a big deal or simply not giving a flying Liefield what someone does as long as the book makes money. No one CARED Logan would be portrayed like this because he still had his books and they still had their money and that’s sad. You should take more pride in your work than what money it makes you. I’m getting 10 bucks for this, but i’m doing this because I wanted to and i’m proud of what i’ve written thus far. I took the time and effort to again pick some issues at random and make sure wolverine really DIDN’T talk like this and that garth REALLY didn’t have a point. And it’s more time than garth, any of the editors on this, or anyone who worked on this artists, inkers down took to actually think about how terribly half assed this version of wolverine is and how it’s not some clever deconstruction but just stupid. It’s just dumb. Just a raging fanboy pointing out how much a character he dosen’t like blows and it shoudln’t of gone to print that way. Garth Ennis, Marvel, and The Punisher all can and have done better.

Anyways now we’ve got the analysis squared away I can have fun with just how gloriously, stupidly insane this story and the old canucklehead are. So for the crime of some asshole at a bar calling him short, seriously that’s what kicked things off.. he darth vader’s the guy’s hand, then procedes to massacre the bar. Because when I think beserker rage I don’t think fighting goons for an evil clandestine orginzation, nazis or sentinels.. no I think a bunch of drunks in a bar Logan wouldn’t bother to actaully use his claws on if this comic didn’t come off like it was written with the magic of cocaine.

So while this fracas goes on someone kidnaps the guy Frank was after later.. and chainsaws his legs off, as Wolverine can hear the chainsaw.. granted he does have hightned hearing, so that is possible it’s just.. weird these guys you know.. DID THIS IN THE BACK OF A CROWDED BAR. They clearly have sound baffling but like.... we see right after this they have a hidden tourture lair, with a LOT of kidnapped men literally cut down to the knees. So there’s NO reason to do it on site except the script said so and Garth was too busy focusing on ways to make wolverine sound like someone put ants in his brain to actually make the plot.. you know.. make sense. Oh also Pete, the guy that was kidnapped, plans to wait on his brother paulie.. only for him to show up .. like this

And trust me folks.. you aren’t ready for the expination. Anyways Frank talks to his informant Soap, a former fbi man turned second rate Barbra Gordon who tells our protaganist that 8 other mobsters have been captured.. and might still be alive.

So Frank naturally goes to a strip club for his next move

And after casing the joint finds everyone knocked out via gas, and the music having been used to cover up the chainsawing leaving a bunch of legs and a blood trail. Canucklehead follows the same trail... and also makes an intresting comment

Yes but single amputatoin is fine.. I think Frank is trying to make him a hypocrite but again had to write Logan so out of character as to massacre a bunch of guys over a bar brawl that it looses the point. Not only that he’s TRYING to paint the punisher as better but...

Garth also has FRANK do something out of character. And given Garth is good at writing him this sticks out. Frank killing a guy this way if he did something extra henious or Frank needed info I could buy. He has almost no limits when it comes to his work. The only solid one is “No killing innocents”. But doing it “just for variety” isn’t him. Frank has issues sure, and is a serial killer, clearly. But his methodlogy is doing this for a warped sense of justice and vengance, and doing it as efficently, quickly and brutally as possible. He’s not going to get bored, tired, or anything, he’s going to keep going until he dies. Nothing will slow him down and even if you took his legs and arms and left him blind and deaf, he’d find SOME way to still keep going the second he was able. Frank Castle is many things and most of them are bad.. but he is DRIVEN in the most horrifying way possible and thus woudln’t waste time doing this.

So we naturally get to the fight.. and Wolverine is pitted as the bad guy.. despite the fact Frank is not only worse, but Logan has EVERY REASON to think Frank did this. He as far as I know dosen’t know frank well and to him he’s juts a serial killer no one’s been able to put down.

Now to Garth’s credit the fight does go as it should.. Frank gets his ass handed to him. He blows wolverine’s face off, sure

But Logan DOES have the upperhand the whole fight. The issue besides writing wolverine like he did all the cocaine in the NYC arc, is that Ennis treats Logan like some idiot who gets by purely on his powers and unbreakable claws. And that again.. is not the character. Part of why Logan’s deadly is that the unbreakable skeleton, the healing factor.. those are nice and defintley useful.. .but his main asset is he REALLY is the best at what he does. He’s been trained in ninjutsu, black ops, and all sorts of nasty stuff, and thus can kill like no one else. When up against an alien empire while fighting off one trying to make him into one of them, he still fought his way to the other x-men and freed them, single handed. If it was just raw power the brood would’ve killed his ass.. its his skill at what he does that makes him truly the best at what he does. Sure he loves a good scrap and diving into one.. but he can kick ass in 80 diffrent ways and taught Kitty Pryde how to do so, skills that have been invaulable since, and Jubilee got he same lessons. Logan is as skilled if not more than frank and were he not written like his brain was in beast’s lab for study that week and he was somehow still up and about despite that, Frank would be dead.

I will say though that as infamous as this next moment is.. it is clever and does feel warranted. Since his junk apparently isn’t adamantium, I don’t know the mechanics of that honetstly maybe they just didn’t have enough for his dong but given it’s b een implied he’s had sex with MANY women since getting his skeltington, it clearly isn’t so he did his research on one thing at least?, Frank targets it

As pety as this is.. I can’t help but laugh. it’s just fucking gloriously ludcrious yet unlike some things that are about to happen, fully in line with both characters and this universe. Before Frank can set him on fire, as you do, their interupted as the mysterious power behind these chainsawings announces itself over the pa and invites both to join.. .and says the mob will see the real power in this city “just as soon as we cut them down to size” and wellllll

And the answers are somehow evne more insane than an army of gangster dwarfs surronding a faceless wolverine and the punisher.

So after the two end up overwhelmed as Frank lacks a gun and Wolverine is coming down, we meet the boss , Tony Casnio, dwarf brother of the guy who frank killed and whose HAPPY his brother died. Besides the obvious power vacum Tony .. didn’t have the happiest last 35 years. See at fist Tony and his brother TOmmy were happy, loyal to each other.. but with Tony having dwarfisim, he was constantly tormented by his brother to make Tommy look better as time went on, with Tony slowly seething and plotting revenge. And once Frank left a power vacum because you know, he just kills people he dosen’t actually think of how to take them down and make them stay down, with his solution as we’ve seen being just kill the pieces, Tommy stepped in.. and see this would be fine. A dwarf mob boss is neat and him making his own mafia out of the disinfranchised from the various famillies and other bits of crime would be neat.. but then. .he outlines the rest of his plan...

Okay.. so Garth. You mock superheroes, you hate the concept and have not been shy about it tha’ts fine.. but don’t tell me THIS is any less insane. Don’t tell me using people with dwarfisim as a fucking stupid punchline and having them create a slave race by cutting peoples legs off is any LESS rediculolus than any superhero comic. I have seen things like a chruch try to use nightcrawler as pope, scrooge mcduck buy a whole island ot teach his nephew a lesson and hammer head cause a NUCLEAR EXPLOSION in aunt may’s inhereted breeder reactior that blows up an entire canadian island.. and this is still easily one of the dumbest things i’ve seen. Not only is reducting a disablity to basically a punchline after trying to treat it with some respect incredibly dumb, the issue is called “aim low” for fucks sake, but the fact Gartht hought he had any amoutn of high ground after this arc in mocking superhero comics, to the point his final arc is mocking superheroes, is just..the funneist thing i’ve ever heard

SO naturally Frank says NOPE to that and to Ennis credit, and as we’ve seen he has about as good a credit as Peter Parker, it’s why he has to web up bill collectors after all, he DOES give Frank good reasons to oppose them: to him killing these guys is just something that has to be done. Dosen’t make him right, god no, but it’s done out of duty. Tony.. is butchering people for revenge instead of simply rising above it. So frank pisses off wolverine into acting, which gets them away from them because he.. forgot he could overpower a bunch of normal people? ANd then when wolverine is clearly willing ot team up frank’s response is..

Yeah as I said the first nut shot, while clearly in part ennis trying to humiate a character he dosen’t like.. is actually funny and clever. It’s frank simply finding a bat and using it, and an funny yet still awesome way to distpatch someone FAR above frank’s weight class. This one though? This is just ennis being petty and Frank being stupid. Ennis coudln’t stop at ONE nut shot, he had to go for two and make the second one even worse, while Frank.. throws away a useful ally for no reason. I get in this story WOlvie is basically a giant mallet but like.. your outgunned and outmanned frank, it pays to take what help you can get and save the nut shot for if he gets out of hand.

So they try to cut WOlverine’s legs off with a chainsaw because this story has tgone so far off the rails it’s plowed into xavier’s school for gifted youngsters, but Frank frees wolvine, who gives Tommy some revenge by slicing his limbs off while his slave shoots himself. Frank mows everyone else down because punisher wins, and then rolls Logan over with a steamroller because Garth CLEARLY just had to get in one last petty shot. I mean i’d write it off as another quick gag if it wasn’t for the fact they spend TWO pages on this. So we end on frank killing all the amputees. YAY, one killer .. wins I guess

Final Thoughts; As you can tell this story is fucked.. but in the best way: from the edgelord humor to how cartoonishly over the top it is to how TRANSPARENT Ennis hate of logan is, this story while not good and certainly offensive, is fun to point and laugh at. I certainly did. If like me you coudl use a laugh.. this story isn’t bad. it was clealry itnended to be a comedy and it is.. just not how garth intended. The attmept at character assaination is so bad it just winds up being memorably funny instead. Maybe sometime i’ll review wolverine’s other apperance but until then follow for more, and thanks for reading.

#wolverine #the punisher #x-men #marvel comics #garth ennis #marvel knights #dwarfisim #the mob #logan howlett

17 notes · View notes

aaronafgash · 1 month

Text

10 NEW SONGS - 3/22/24

What a fuckin’ week! Full album releases from Waxahatchee, Good Morning, SiR, Matt Champion, Future & Metro Boomin, Adrianne Lenker, LOONY, and TYLA, on top of some incredible singles as well. I have been listening to new music quite literally all day and I’m not mad.

1. Cinderella - Remi Wolf

Remi Wolf really has never missed, and this fantastic lead single from her upcoming album Big Ideas continues that trend. It may be snowing here in Milwaukee, but at least I get to experience 4 minutes of spring every time I bump this. Funk-infused pop? Bright, punchy guitars paired beautifully with a brass section? Remi’s wacky, carefree, powerful vocals on top of all that? It all just works perfectly. Also - “Me and the boys in the hotel lobby!” is such a classic Remi line that I legitimately looked it up to see if she’s ever sung that before.

2. Like That (feat. ******** *****) - Future & Metro Boomin

I was already excited to hear this after some previews were floating around recently on social media, but holy hell, absolutely nothing could prepare me for the secret guest verse on this. It already would have been one of my favorite hip-hop songs of the year - a sensational Metro Boomin beat and Future sounding more locked in than he has in years - but the verse really took things to another level. (And yes, I am intentionally keeping it a secret for anyone who hasn’t heard it yet!)

3. So Sick Of Dreaming - Maggie Rogers

This is lovely. Some country / twang vibes, but still very much so a Maggie Rogers song. I particularly love the little breakdown where she talks about getting stood up for a dude who got tickets to a Knicks game. My sister described this as “HAIM x Shania Twain” - accurate!

4. The Lake - Good Morning

Good Morning has quietly become one of my favorite bands over the years, but they really stepped things up with their new album, Good Morning Seven. Basically all of their previous projects have sat somewhere between 15 to 30 minutes, consisting of some iteration of lo-fi songs with guitar, keys, bass, and drums. And they really perfected that formula, crafting gorgeous albums that connected deeply with their fans (aka me). But THIS is different. Running at 50 minutes, this 17 track album just feels more alive than anything else Good Morning has ever put out. Suddenly, the band is utilizing strings and synths and samples and background choirs. I couldn’t believe my ears when I got to this song, “The Lake” - it almost sounds like something off of the last Vampire Weekend album. Big, booming, almost tribal drums, layered guitars, airy synths … this rocks. Sorry, that was a lot of words about a small indie band, but I love seeing their growth!

5. Shotput - Still Woozy

I saw Still Woozy live in Madison in 2021 and he was straight ass. Not ass? This song. I still love all of Still Woozy’s music, and after a lengthy 3-year hiatus, he’s back with another slapper. He also continues his trend of having truly stunning album artwork.

6. Crowbar - Waxahatchee

This sounds like something you’d hear at the end of a movie, when the main character decides to drive out to one of the coasts, excited about the opportunities ahead. Waxahatchee kicks ass - every line I pick out of these lyrics is so well-written. “I move awkwardly at the speed of light” - same, dude.

7. POETRY IN MOTION (feat. Anderson .Paak) - SiR

SiR is a smooth dude. Anderson .Paak is a smooth dude. This is a smooth ass song. SiR is excellent at these R&B/rap hybrid type songs, and .Paak matches his energy perfectly. Many great tracks on this album, but “POETRY IN MOTION” stood out to me the most.

8. Steel (feat. Dora Jar) - Matt Champion

This song renders me speechless. This is basically me just writing what I’m hearing as I start the song over repeatedly, because I don’t know how else to describe what’s happening. A.G. Cook-esque electronic weirdness? Piano keys that sound like Bruce Hornsby? Sped up vocal samples? Dijon / Mk.gee textures? Dora Jar SLIDES on this - I love how she’s layering her vocals, and I love that little laugh she gives during her verse. I really appreciate how bouncy this is. You’re constantly on the edge of your seat thinking about where it’s going next, but there’s still that constant groove driving the song.

9. No.1 (feat. Tems) - Tyla

I never got into “Water” by Tyla, but I was impressed by her debut self-titled album, and this was a clear standout. Upbeat (but still laid back), she and Tems trade verses, floating over the highly percussive beat. I dig it.

10. No Machine - Adrianne Lenker

Adrianne Lenker is an old soul, and she makes that old school folk music, the type of thing you feel like you should be listening to around a campfire. Her tone is honest and pure - just her singing over a guitar is captivating enough as is, but the subtle background production / vocals happening on this really elevate the song. Big fan of how she hits the last note on “Don't know where I'd go without you” and the chords change around her while she sings the same thing.

#Spotify

0 notes

justasmallbloginabigklainefandom · 7 months

Text

@sohereswhatyoumissedlastweek replied to your post “Anyway I spent four hours straight up crying while...”:

Oh no!! Why? :( the course too hard?

AAAAAAAAAAAARH

Yeah, basically. Today was the same. My main problem is that the way I express frustration is crying, wanting to scream, biting myself, pinching myself, pulling my hear, ripping stuff apart, hitting things and throwing with stuff. (Rip to this textbook, I have thrown it a lot and at one point started slamming it against a chair.) (Also, no worries, I never bite or pinch to hurt and I don't actually tear out my hair. I hate pain too much for all that.) (It's more that I have all this pent-up anger and I need to hit shit.) And when I am in this mood, literally everything around me pisses me off and I lose my marbles over the littlest things. My entire body is tense and my neck hurts and feels hot.

Yeah, I know. Not Good.

Basically I am constantly on the brink of tears when thinking about it. Even now I am digging my nails into my hands and biting my fingers because I am already getting so ticked off. (Although, writing this down does feel good and is probably healthier than, you know, throwing my book against a wall in rage.) (That did feel good, though.)

So this course is absolutely kicking my ass because I don't understand shit and every time I think I do, I make an assignment, only to have, like, 90% of the questions wrong. Aka cue screaming and tears. And the worst part is that I don't see the point, which is apparently a huge deal for me as well. Idk what it is called in English, but nutsprincipe is a big thing that I am working on, because if I deem it useless, I have a hard time doing shit. This is what my post about bullshit is about. I genuinely do not see the point of this except for Frege to sound smart. I see no use for it at all. Why do we need a fucking formula language for pure thought, so that we can use these formulas to mathmatically calculate thought? Isn't the whole point of philosophy that reality, however you want to define is, cannot be boiled down to a simple formula? If this was exact science, I would at least partially understand it, but come on, you want to create a clear cut formula for language that discusses existence? Leibniz and Frege, turn on your locations, I just want to fucking talk.

AND on top of that, I have been feeling unwell with stress from the last 2.5 weeks because my entire degree is so much I honest to God cannot handle it. So on top of all the frustration and stress of this one course, I am also in a constant state of stress because I have so much to do and I can't find a way to relax, because the only way I can relax is to not do it, but then I don't get it done on time and if I miss one thing I am behind A Lot. One course has a week off, since my teacher is somewhere else, and it is such an immense relief because it saves me reading 3 other papers of idk 100 pages in total. If I also had to do that on top of all the reading and assignments for this week, I don't think I would've handled it. Like, we're not even a month in and I am already on the verge of some sort of mental breakdown. I am constantly tired. I am so tired.

This further isn't helped by the fact that I also have a lot of problems with another course and I feel kinda bad about it. Everyone keeps telling me not to, since this degree is specifically made for people without philosphy knowlegde, which is why the first year is basically a speedrun of philosophy, but every damn time I am in class I realise that others did get it, and that also frustrates me. Like, everyone starts talking about the "obvious conclusion that they read at the end of X" and meanwhile I have read X three times and I had no clue that that was written down there.

Again, I am not even a month in!!! Jesus Christ, but this crappy feeling is unbearable so I am already wondering if this is good for me. It unfortunately reminds me of 2019 which I have dubber The Worst Year, where I was also on the brink of a burn out and couldn't do anything else but cry and only the thought of my thesis made me burst into tears and made me feel like crap.

AND I like my degree, despite everything. I want to do it. I want to understand it (expect for the formula logic, because fuck that for reasons mentioned above.) I look up my future courses and I am excited, so I am sort of holding on to that thought as some sort of fucking lifeline, because in my frustration fuelled thought spiral I did start to fear that I had made a mistake by doing this. YET I don't love it. Others do. Some people were talking about how much joy this brings them and how privileged they feel to be able to do this and how they bike to university, thinking life is beautiful because of this degree. I don't think that, so like Eleanor Shellstrop, it feels like I am literally surrounded by people who are better than me and who belong more. AND I AM AWARE that I shouldn't compare myself. I usually am very good at that, but well, frustration-fuelled-thought-spiral be upon ye!

Not good. I know.

I did find a stress ball but I am at my parents' home and I didn't have that so unfortunately my parents had to endure me at my worst for 2 days. I had a full breakdown yesterday at dinner, mostly because this was just 2.5 weeks of utter shit. Oops.

Am I dealing with this? No, not at all. I need to figure out how to, because this is bleeding into everything. After logics I needed to read a chapter for philosophy of cognition and I still had all that anger in me that I still kept acting out, which obviously didn't bode well BUT I did find a new way to blow off steam. Cause I was slamming books and hitting tables when I realised my mum has one of those Ring Fit Adventure rings, which is made to be pushed in!!! And that's how I did fucking excercise and I fucking hate this but it works because I just smashed through some monsters in Ring Fit Adventure and everything was fine after that. (I hate exercise and sports btw. Fucking dispise it. I am actually not familiar with these positive effects of excercise, because it usually makes me feel worse because I hate doing it.)

I don't have this game on my Switch though and unfortunately we live in the world of digital games, so it's downloaded on my mum's Switch AKA I cannot pop a cartridge into mine. This is why I always say that, if possible, you should still buy your games in physical form! It has resell value AND you can share it. Fuck digital only!!!! (And yeah, great, this works, but I am not paying another €80 for this game.)

I did add my mum's account to my Switch so that the game *is* downloaded on mine, but Nintendo has build a "fail safe" or whatever it's called into the Switch. Other accounts can only play titles from other accounts if it's on a Main Console of the account that bought it. So I can play it with my account on my mum's, but not with my account on mine, because the video game industry fucking sucks nowadays. Anyway, what I am trying to say is that I am gonna attempt booting up the game on my Switch from my mum's account but then see if it's possible in-game to pick mine again, since that is possible in this game BUT I am afraid my progress will not move over to my Switch because again shared saves is paywalled BECAUSE OF COURSE IT IS IN THIS DAY AND AGE.

(Also, lol, Hard Times from Paramore just started playing.)

ANYWAY, this did end on a rant about the video game industry, but yeah, thanks for letting me indulge in writing this whole ass essay.

#sohereswhatyoumissedlastweek #replies #lb uni

0 notes

luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 10) - Take Care

Summary: The reader gets to meet Danneel’s parents in a somewhat unorthodox way but receives a warm welcome to her surprise. Meanwhile, a minor medical scare makes Jensen anxious that he takes too much and doesn’t give enough to the reader...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Playing With Their Hair

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, minor frightening situation, minor medical situation, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy! Also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo...

________

One Week Later

“Y/N, can we get orange?” asked Arrow from where she sat in the shopping cart. She pointed at the tubes of frosting and you took one off, handing it to her as you went back to searching for a box of red velvet mix.

“Come on,” you sighed, squatting down. You saw one shoved in the back and you bent down, reaching back to get it. You huffed when you pulled it back, the expiration date still plenty good. “Score. Okay Arrow what other color…”

She wasn’t in the cart anymore as you stood, her bright pink shirt and shorts nowhere in sight.

“Arrow!” you shouted, people from the farther end of the aisle turning to look at you. You breathed hard and spun around, exiting the aisle and looking at the checkouts. “Arrow!”

“Mam,” said a man in a white dress shirt and slacks, walking over with a headset on.

“I had a little girl with me and she’s missing and she was in the cart and I would have heard her climb out,” you said, walking quickly, the man following with you as you checked down aisles. “Arrow!”

You heard the guy talk into his headset when you caught pink and a guy near the front of the store. She spun around and you ran over, the manager not too far behind you. You didn’t say a word when you kicked the back of the guys knee and grabbed Arrow, picking her up.

“What’d I do?” he said, Arrow turning away. He looked more angry than you were expecting and you swallowed, the manager urging you back. “She’s the one that took my granddaughter!”

“She’s not your fucking granddaughter, pervert. I’m her nanny and soon to be step-mom so you can back the fuck off.”

“Step fucking what?” he said, his face going blank.

“Grandpa I told you Y/N’s my friend,” said Arrow. You blinked and stared at the man.

“Prove it,” you said. The man angrily pulled out his wallet and ripped out a picture, turning it around. It was a large group photo but you could clearly see Jensen and the kids in it along with… “You’re her father. Danneel.”

“Who the fuck are you,” he said. You took out your phone and went to your pictures, showing him one of your backyard bonfire from the weekend before.

“Is there a problem?” asked the manager. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes and left.

“Sir, I’m so sorry,” you said. He nodded and glanced down.

“Well, I can’t blame you. I understand the feeling,” he said.

“Can we...talk?” you asked.

“I think that’d be best before somebody else gets their ass kicked.”

Fifteen minutes later you had your bag of baking supplies in your trunk, Arrow was playing on the jungle gym and you were sat at a picnic table with Danneel’s parents.

“You guys came down early for JJ’s birthday, huh,” you said.

“We had to come down this weekend instead. Something came up last minute next week,” said her mom. You nodded and took a deep breath.

“I am so sorry. That is absolutely not how Jensen and I wanted to tell you both.”

“I’m old but I’m tough. I’ll survive,” said her father. You looked over to where Arrow was playing, gnawing on your bottom lip. “You said you were the nanny and soon to be step mom. Mind unraveling that for us?”

“I uh, I started working for Jensen in January as a nanny to help with the kids. The relationship part came a few weeks later. We’ve been engaged very briefly. Don’t even have a ring or anything yet,” you said, shaking your head. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s taken him so long to stop feeling guilty for having feelings for me. Please don’t be upset with him. I don’t...I’m not trying to replace anyone or anything. I didn’t want to like him. But I did and I love him and he deserves to be happy again.”

They looked at one another and back at you.

“Good,” they both said.

“Excuse me?”

“We think he deserves to be happy too. He was in such a bad place after the accident,” she said. “He’s sounded like himself again recently.”

“Plus if you’re willing to kick my ass for thinking I took Arrow, that gets you some brownie points,” he said with a smile. You nodded and looked down at the table, swallowing. “Not what you were expecting?”

“Your daughter’s husband is engaged to a younger woman. I wouldn’t blame you at all for whatever you might think,” you said.

“He’s got a lot of time left,” he said. “He doesn’t have to be miserable for it. We don’t want that for him. It’s not what she’d want. He’s doing exactly what she’d want from him and that’s all we can ask of him. Well and maybe stick around the country for a bit so we can see the kids some more.”

“Yeah, no plans to be anywhere but home right now,” you said. You looked over at Arrow and watched her jump off a high platform. She fell down to her knees but got up and brushed them off before she was running again.

“She’d like you,” you heard, your attention going back to the two of them. She was staring at you and you smiled.

“You don’t know a thing about me mam.”

“I think we know the important parts,” she said. You nodded and glanced down. “What do Jensen’s parents think of all this?”

“They know he’s dating but that’s it. I’m supposed to meet them next week,” you said.

“We’ll keep our lips sealed for the time being then,” she said. “What about your folks? What do they think of Jensen and the kids?”

“The kids probably haven’t met either parent yet, right?” he said.

“It’s kinda complicated...I was adopted. My mom died a long time ago. I don’t have a dad or family really,” you said. You pursed your lips and picked at the corner of the table with your fingernail, the air heavy.

“Well we approve of him,” he said. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know. He’s very special,” you said. “I just wish something so horrible didn’t have to happen to him and your daughter in order to meet him.”

“We can’t change that fact,” she said. “She’d want you to take care of him, keep an eye on him. Oh and remind him to take a break and slow down every once in a while. He always gets so caught up in work and being on the go. She had to calm him down sometimes.”

“I have noticed that trend,” you said. “I hope you don’t feel like he’s going to forget-”

“No we don’t worry about that. If we learned anything from this it’s just that you have to live while you have the chance,” he said as Arrow ran over.

“Y/N, I’m hungry,” she said.

“Alright, munchkin. Why don’t we head home and maybe your grandma and grandpa will have lunch with us?” you asked.

“We’d love to,” they said. “We’ll meet you two there.”

“That went shockingly well,” said Jensen late that night when you were having an extra slice of JJ’s early birthday cake. “Those guys loved you.”

“I think we both got a little too worried over the parents situation. Dee’s parents were great, especially considering I nearly broke his knee. I’m really excited to meet yours next weekend.”

“It’s not too long of a drive up there. I haven’t been home in a long time. I’m looking forward to it too,” he said, a big smile on his face. “I’m really glad they liked you.”

“What’s not to love?” you said, Jensen smirking around his piece of cake. “You’re so hard on yourself. I’m really happy they like me too but even if they didn’t, there’s no problem there. You’re allowed to live your life. Dee wants you to keep living it.”

“I still wonder if she was just like ‘this boy is driving me nuts again, he needs a girl,’ and somehow shoved you into my life,” he said.

“Maybe. I mean, it was good timing that I was looking for a new job the same time you were looking for a nanny.”

“Did you ever report that last guy as an inappropriate employer?” he asked.

“I tell the agency but nothing criminal no. I mostly feel sorry for the families. Nannies are stability in the kids lives and leaving them isn’t easy. Unless they’re little shitheads but even then I don’t blame them, it’s the parents that turned them into it,” you said.

“What’d you think of those three, when you met ‘em I mean,” he said.

“They’re all a little shy like you but they open up if they like you. They’re pretty damn funny. They got wit and sarcasm, even if they don’t know it yet. They’re kind and intelligent and they look to you in how to act like most kids. I knew they were good kids from the start.”

“You’re gonna be a great mom,” he said. You smiled and watched him eat a piece of cake, Jensen tilting his head. “You know they have called you mom before. All three of them. Accidentally but still.”

“Being a nanny has some of the roles of a parent but there’s still a difference,” you said.

“Yeah but you’ve never just been the nanny,” he said, scraping up some frosting with his fork. “Speaking of your sudden thrust into motherhood, the whole kids thing...how many of your own were you thinking of?”

“I don’t know. I don’t need to make a baby to love it. I was adopted and my mom loved me so much. I mean there’s already three of ‘em to chase after.”

“I’d like to have a baby with you. Someday,” he said. You dabbed your finger across some frosting on the plate and sucked on it, staring at him. “I know you do. Y/N there’s no more secrets. There’s never gonna be a secret between us ever again. Sometimes you get nervous but we have to talk about these things and everything. The big choices and the little ones we make together.”

“Honestly? I don’t want you to think I’ll love them less than a kid I make. I won’t. I will treat them all the same but I don’t know how to prove that to you.”

“You told me the day I hired you that I needed to hire someone I could trust, that trust was going to be so important. Y/N, I’ve never doubted your feelings for them. Shit, I’m pretty damn sure you were in love with them before me. And I get it because they aren’t scary. They can’t hurt you like the adults can. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I had a shred of doubt.”

“I gotta think about kids more I guess. How many, when. I don’t know that right now.”

“We’ll figure out all that when we’re ready. Just let me know and we’ll come back to this conversation,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You know...hearing about what you did at the store...that’s kinda super attractive you know.”

“Uh what?” you said, Jensen pulling you into his lap.

“You, going protective badass...that’s very, very hot you see,” he said.

“You’re such a guy,” you said while he picked up the last piece of cake on his fork.

“Well we-” he said as you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the dessert, pulling back with a smile. “Oh you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” you smirked. He narrowed his eyes and set his fork down before he was standing and flipped you over his shoulder. “Jensen! Put me down!”

“Do the crime, do the time!” he said, walking over to the stairs. “Hm...what to do with you...ah I know…”

“You know…” you said before he flipped you down onto the couch and plopped down on top of you, catching most of his weight on his hands on either side of you. “Troublemaker.”

“You love it,” he said. He leaned down and kissed you, your hands wandering to his hair, holding him close. You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist, Jensen kissing you sloppy and cheeky and like a teenage boy making out for the first time.

“Dad,” said JJ, rushing down the stairs. He dropped this forehead to yours and sighed.

“What is it?” he asked. He sat up and you both looked at her, spotting the pale tint of her skin. “Feel okay?”

“Jensen call an ambulance, now,” you said, pushing him off and going over to her. He sat up and you kneeled down next to her, her lips slightly blue. You put a hand on her chest and felt the labored breathing. “Did you eat something new tonight? Or did a bug bite you?”

“I stepped on a prickly in the bathroom a minute ago,” she said.

“Jesus,” said Jensen as he rushed into the kitchen. “She got stung by a scorpion.”

He grabbed a bottle from the cabinet and started unscrewing it.

“Jensen go see what the scorpion is and get rid of it before the twins find it,” you said. He left the bottle with you and shoved the phone against your ear. “Hi, sorry how much of the anti-venom do I give her?”

“There should be a child dosage on the bottle, half the cap,” the person on the other end said. You unscrewed the lid and poured some out, having her swallow it down. She whined and you didn’t blame her based on the smell. “An ambulance will be there shortly.”

“Thank you,” you said, spotting Jensen at the top of the stairs. He was holding his wrist and had a slightly smushed object in one of the clear plastic cups from the kids bathroom. “We have the scorpion.”

“EMT’s should be able to identify it,” she said, Jensen walking down slowly. He took a seat on the bottom step and shook his head.

“Jensen?” you said, his hand reaching for the bottle. You moved his hand from his wrist and saw two dots there. “Shit. My fiance was stung too.”

“There’s a nest in the bathroom vanity,” he said, pouring himself a dose and knocking it back. “I blocked off the door but get the twins out of there, please.”

“JJ,” you said as you saw her color get better while Jensen was getting paler. You took your phone out of your pocket and dialed, handing it to her. “Tell Uncle Jared to come over right now.”

Five minutes later Jared was there, JJ and Jensen sat in the back of an ambulance, Jensen getting a shot of something in the leg.

“We’re taking them to West County,” said a paramedic.

“I’ll see you guys soon,” you said, JJ staring worriedly at Jensen who has holding his wrist again. Jared looked around as they took off and you sighed. “Hey.”

“JJ said she and Jay got stung by a scorpion?” he asked.

“She got one as far as they can tell. Jensen got three. There’s a nest in the bathroom cupboard,” you said.

“Idiot,” mumbled Jared. You raised and eyebrow and he shook his head. “He forgot to get the pest spray done this year I bet. Dee always handled that kind of stuff. They’ve had a scorpion problem before when they first moved in.”

“Oh.”

“I’m gonna take the twins and stay the night. I’ll call and get the spray guys in first thing in the morning. You go take care of those two,” he said. You nodded and he grabbed your arm when you headed for your car. “Wait five minutes to calm down.”

“Jared I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You just don’t know it. Go inside, get your purse, Jensen’s wallet, take a beat, okay?”

“Okay,” you said. “Make sure-”

“I got it. Go on,” he said. “Make sure he’s not freaking out. Last time he was at a hospital it wasn’t good.”

“Right. Okay. Call me if you need something. And stay away from the kids bathroom.”

“Y/N. I know. It’ll be alright, I promise.”

One Hour Later

“Is dad okay?” asked JJ from where she sat in your lap. Jensen peeled an eye open and smiled.

“I’m okay. Sleepy is all. We’ll be home in a few hours,” he said. His wrist was bandaged and he had an IV in his arm but he’d taken the anti-venom soon enough that they had enough time to get the proper medication in both him and JJ. She was already discharged but you didn’t want to leave Jensen by himself.

“Mr. Ackles,” said a doctor when she walked in the room. “Your bloodwork came back and everything looks good.”

“Awesome,” he said, sitting up in bed. “Can I get out of here?”

“You got about fifteen minutes left on that IV drip but I’ll let the nurse know to start the paperwork. I want you to take it easy tomorrow. Nothing strenuous.”

“I got it,” he said with a nod. “Nothing strenuous.”

“Jensen,” you said around noon the next day, catching him unloading some wood from the back of his truck. “What are you doing?”

“I was gonna work on those shelves for the kid’s playroom,” he said. You crossed your arms and he threw his head back. “I feel fine. The nest got cleared out and the house got sprayed. I wanna work on this.”

“You have all the time in the world to do it. Work on it tomorrow,” you said, picking up the wood plank. He tried to take it out of your hands and you growled.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Please do what the doctor said and rest today,” you said. He bit his lip and you moved the pieces of wood into the garage, Jensen leaning back against the side of the truck when you shut the trunk. “You’re scared, aren’t you.”

He nodded and glanced at his wrapped up wrist, then down to the ground.

“Hospitals freak me out now,” he said. “I don’t like bugs. My body hurt and knowing I forgot to do something so simple put them in danger sucks. Knowing if she hadn’t come downstairs it might have been real bad sucks. If you hadn’t noticed I don’t know if I would have and it scares me not knowing.”

“Close your eyes for me,” you said. He shut them and took a deep breath, letting you take his hand and walk around to the back of the house. You spun him around a few times stopping him so he was facing the pool about twenty feet away. “Know where you are?”

“Somewhere in the middle of the backyard,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“You said not knowing scared you. Lots of times you don’t know. It’s kinda just how life works,” you said, dropping his hand and moving a few feet away. “Take a big step forward.”

“Y/N, I don’t like this,” he said, fidgeting his hand along the bottom of his shirt.

“I know you don’t. But would I hurt you?”

“No,” he said.

“So listen to me. Big step forward.” He took a step and you looked around. “Jump backwards.”

“What?”

“Jump backwards.” He frowned and took a small bunny hop back. “Again.”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Says the guy who plays pretend for a professional career. Now hop back and then step to the right,” you said. He groaned and did as asked. “Jog forward until I say stop.”

“Are you trying to kill me out here cause I feel like I’m about to break my neck slipping in the pool.”

“I’m trying to get your anxiety out in a non-life threatening way, okay?”

“By having me jump around the backyard like an idiot.”

“By having you get comfortable with the fact that most of life is spent not knowing and you can’t change that fact. You can’t see it all coming.”

He threw his head back but kept his eyes shut. He stared to run towards you and you wrapped your arms around him when he got there, Jensen peeling them open slowly.

“See? I wasn’t gonna let anything bad happen,” you said. He nodded and rested his forehead on your shoulder, pulling you into a squeezing hug. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry for being short and not doing what the doctor asked,” he said.

“Hey, it’s alright. I got scared too last night. Everything is fixed now so no need to worry over it. Why don’t you take a nap and maybe we have a real quiet lazy day while Dee’s parents got the kids for the day,” you said. “Sound fun?”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll take quiet today.”

Three hours later Jensen was curled up with a blanket, his head resting in your lap as you watched a movie together. You played with his hair, Jensen turning into the touch every so often.

“I know you’re worried about me,” he said. He turned and faced up at you, your fingers swirling in his strands. “I know I’m kinda clingy today which I’m normally not.”

“You can cling all you want, honey,” you said, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “I wish life would give you a break for a second. No work, no badness. Just some peace and quiet for you.”

“My parents lived here after the accident. For a few months. They were here, Jared and Gen were over every day, my siblings would stop down every week. The first few months I understood. I had an injury I had to recover from. But I felt like a child those few months once I recovered. Everyone taking care of the kids, of me. I was barely a father to them. Playtime. A story at bed. Someone else made most of their meals, did everything for them.”

“You’re a father but you’re still someone’s child,” you said. He blinked and you shrugged. “You were hurt, possibly the worst out of anyone. I know taking care of everyone else is your default but people get to take care of you too. I get to take care of you.”

“I feel like all I do is get taken care of by you,” he said. “I never give it back.”

“You’ve given me a family again. You take care of me every single day.”

“I never see you getting upset. It’s always me. I’m always the fuck up,” he said. You slumped down and took a deep breath.

“I get upset Jensen. I got upset that very first time we fought, that night with the ice cream. I got upset when you got jealous of that nanny in Canada and we saw my father the first time. I got upset telling you the truth of it all because you of all people don’t need problems like that dumped at your feet. I got upset when we saw him again because I was scared and I was scared he might hurt you too. I got upset when we fought when you got home and I got upset when you proposed because you were so scared and I get upset Jensen. I get upset when you’re hurt. I get upset when I hurt. But I don’t have all those safety nets under me that you do, remember? I just got a couple right now and you’re my last resort. I’ve been my own support system for so long that I can’t undo that all overnight. I know it’s been months but the fact I even let you see me cry, the fact I can even talk about this stuff with you and know all you’re thinking about is how to make me feel better...I still need to heal too. You’ve done so much already. I’m gonna have my moments where this is switched, believe me. But today’s not my turn for that, it’s yours.”

“I love you,” he said, staring up with the softest green eyes you’d ever seen on him yet. “Even more than five minutes ago if that’s possible.”

“I love you,” you said, bending down and kissing him. “You’re the expert on the falling in love stuff though so I’ll leave that up to you.”

“It’s very...it’s what you think it is and it’s not at all what you think. There’s falling and nerves and then calm and then falling and calm and you spend the rest of your life doing that. It’s not magic and it takes work to keep it alive sometimes but all you gotta do is talk. Just talk and it always seems to work out for me,” he said.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. He nodded and smiled as you went back to playing with his hair.

“You know I really like when you do that,” he said.

“I know you do. It relaxes you,” you said.

“Makes me feel safe too,” he said. “But what’s your secret cause eventually I’m gonna want to know them all.”

“I was very attracted to you when we met. But that kinda freaked me out a bit. I found myself liking you a lot that first day I was here. You got me a birthday cake. I realized how kind you are that night. It wasn’t for anyone’s benefit other than my own. I had a crush on you, even though I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

“I had a crush on you from when you made me a cup of coffee. You’re so good and kind yourself,” he said. He reached up and cupped your cheek. “I’m really happy you had your mom eventually. I would have liked to have met her.”

“Maybe she and Dee are hanging out wherever they are.”

“I hope so. She won’t mind sharing me with you,” he said.

“You honestly think so?”

“You gonna mind sharing me with her?” he asked.

“I’ve always shared you. Just hope that wouldn’t bother her.”

“I used to think maybe it would but no, she wants me to be happy and that’s you so you got all eternity to get to know each other eventually if you think about it.”

“Well when you put it that way we got nothing to worry about,” you said.

“Oh don’t worry about that. I think your mom was right. I get to have two people is all, kinda like she did,” he said.

“She would have liked you. Would have said you’re a little old for me but she would have liked you.”

“Wasn’t she older than Ray?” he asked.

“Yeah. She was. She was only fifty,” you said.

“You grew up too fast,” he said quietly.

“Maybe. But it got me here and I don’t think I would have done anything different. I wouldn’t want to screw that up. Well I’d do one thing different.”

“What?”

“Drop by this house, have a conversation with a certain someone.”

“Say hypothetically you had that ability, you’d really do that knowing what you’re giving up?”

“I’d give her back to you right this second if I could.”

“I appreciate that, really,” he said. He let his hand fall down and reach around your back, curling around your waist. “But she’s not more important than you are. I miss her. Everyday. But I lose one of you either way in that scenario. And I can’t choose. I’ll never be able to. If she were here and you weren’t, I’d still be just like this. It’d still hurt.”

“Make me a promise. I keel over early, you try again. Try for both of us.”

“I will if you will,” he said. He held up his pinky finger and you grabbed it with yours. “But he can’t be hotter than me.”

“Equally as hot?”

“Slightly less hot but that’s my final offer,” he said.

“Eh, fine,” you said. “You’ve worn me down.”

“Always words I want to hear,” he chuckled. You slid further down the couch until you were practically laying back, your arms wrapping around him. He got up and lay down with you on the wrap around side of the couch, pulling you into his chest. “Can I take you to dinner tonight? Just us.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, honey,” he said, kissing your forehead. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just thanks. For what you said. What you did earlier, just being with me,” he said.

“Lucky for you I like being with you a whole lot,” you said.

“Very lucky for me,” he said. “Very lucky indeed.”

______

A/N: Read Part 11 here!

#supernatural #tell me a story bingo #SPN #jensen ackles au #jensen x reader #jensen acklees #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

419 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 320: Deku vs. Class 1-A

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Kacchan was all “fuck Deku and fuck his stupid goodbye letters, I need to speak to somebody in charge.” Endeavor was all “hello, I am Somebody In Charge.” Kacchan was all “listen up asshole, you need to let us go out and collect our wayward nerd because you stupidly left him alone with All Might and that’s a fast track to disaster right there.” Endeavor was all, “[self-incriminating silence].” Rat Principal was all, “okay sure, have fun kids.” Back in the present, class 1-A was all “hi Deku” and Deku was all “I’M FINE!!!!!” and Kacchan was all “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY YOU DUMB FUCKING NERD” and so the kids all got ready to fight, because OF COURSE they’re gonna fight. Sorry guys, but yeah it’s happening.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “what’s up Deku you look like a possessed Rorschach test, so anyway how are the new quirks coming along.” Deku is all “they’re coming along like THIS” and uses Smokescreen to try and get away. Kacchan is all “PHASE ONE COMMENCE”, and Kouda, Sero, Jirou, and Ojiro leap into the fray to shower Deku with heaps of love and violence, because this is a shounen manga and kicking someone’s ass while simultaneously proclaiming your undying admiration for them is just how it’s done in these parts. The KoudaSeroOJirou squad then passes the baton to Satou, Momo, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and Shouji, who are all “fuck this mask” and do a bunch of stuff to tear Deku’s mask off because they’re the real heroes. Shouto is all “LOOK AT THE LITTLE CRYBABY, THAT’S RIGHT, GO AHEAD AND FUCKING CRY and by the way let us share your burden please,” and once again I swear this is all very deeply moving and touching within the actual context. The chapter ends with Tsuyu being all “look at me. I’m the cliffhanger now,” and damn.

lol what

I don’t think anyone was expecting that. I mean, not that I’ve got anything against Tsuyu or anything. anyways it’s a very nice cover and I love the colors and I hope this means Tsuyu’s gonna do something badass

also, “Deku vs Class A” -- pretty much the expected title, but it’s still got me hyped nonetheless fuck yeah let’s go

IIDA ANGST

Iida Tenya really said “fuck the uniform code, we’re leaving the helmet at home today.” sorry kids, prim and proper C-3PO Comic Relief Iida has left the building. can I interest you in some Serious Iida

meanwhile Kacchan is all “sup Deku, I heard you got a few more quirks, and might I just add that you look like the Snyder Cut of Detective Pikachu”

“you look like a tarred and feathered squid” okay easy there Kacchan. I mean it’s all true of course, but still

“thank you all for coming” OH EXCUSE ME SON, WERE YOU PLANNING ON GOING SOMEWHERE. LET’S JUST SEE HOW THAT PLAYS OUT

yep and there’s Smokescreen, right on cue

okay Horikoshi, I leave it in your hands. hopefully you can come up with some more interesting combos than my dumbass predictions lol

LOL THIS ISN’T A COMBO AT ALL

“explosions solve everything” -- Horikoshi Kouhei, 2021. something something shockwave, something something handwave ta-da no more smoke. lol okay then

oh, ouch

he would know, wouldn’t he. nice application of one of your many hard-earned life lessons, Kacchan

by the way you guys, just as an experiment, I’m going to try to anticipate some of the discourse this week in the hopes of preemptively addressing it and thus saving myself some time later on lol. so here’s our first test run!

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “oh my god what a fucking hypocrite can you believe this fucking guy”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: it’s precisely because Kacchan has been in this exact situation himself that he’s able to recognize his past self in Deku now and call him out on it. just because it took him sixteen years to get it through his head that he can’t accomplish every single thing completely by himself doesn’t mean Deku has to go down that same path. so yeah, maybe it is a bit hypocritical, but if you insist that the only people qualified to call out stupid shit are people who have never done a single stupid thing in their own lives, then what you’re basically saying is that absolutely no one on earth is qualified lol. so yeah, I’d have to disagree

and one last unrelated note, I’m willing to bet the whole “you didn’t even say a word before you ran off” thing is possibly the first thing Kacchan’s said in this whole encounter that actually does stem from genuine hurt rather than his tough-love-harsh-truths strategy. I’M TAKING NOTES HERE HORIKOSHI. at this rate it’ll take twice as many chapters as DvK2 for them to hash out all the stuff between them, geez

anyway so I gotta say, so far Deku vs. Class A is looking an awful lot like a DvK3 wearing a hat, trenchcoat, and sunglasses lol

OH SHIT I TAKE IT BACK??

FUCK YEAH, YOU GO KOUDA. and I guess he ditched his mask as well! excellent

so far the strategy here seems to be “Kacchan says all the mean tough love shit while the rest of 1-A balances it out with warmth and kindness”, which actually works pretty well imo. Deku is one of those people that doesn’t usually need a Kacchan Translator anyway, but just in case, this is very efficient

mm but of course Deku is slingshotting himself away with Blackwhip. all right then, who’s up next!

FUCK YEAH

okay but seriously you guys, what is going on with Sero’s face in these last couple of chapters though, it’s really starting to unnerve me. is he trying to emulate Kacchan’s whole asymmetrical facial expressions thing?

in fact let me just quickly hit pause here because,

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “SERO IS TOGA??!”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: no

oh snap looks like Jirou’s getting in on the action too!

poor Jirou probably spent days racking her brain trying to think of something she could bond with Deku over. is Horikoshi doing these in reverse order of the kids who have had the most interaction with him? that would explain why poor Kouda didn’t get a flashback lol

omg. well that answers that

so by my count, Satou and Hagakure are the only ones remaining in this first tier of kids who Still Appreciate Midoriya even though they’ve barely ever spoken two words to him in their lives lol. so they’ll probably be next, and then we’ll get to the next tier of kids who are pretty good friends with him but not quite besties. and then we’ll move on to the IidaRokiRaka trio, and then lastly, to the boy who is in a tier all his own

BUT FIRST, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR

and by “sponsor” I mean the Dekuangst. just in case that wasn’t clear. indeed, many thanks to the Dekuangst for making this all possible

(ETA: okay so this whole “take me away” line seemed pretty weird to me, and sure enough it’s yet another one of those cases where only the verb is specified, and the object is left to the reader’s interpretation. so even though the translation says “take me away”, I’m pretty sure that what Deku’s actually saying is “take you away” -- as in, his loved ones will be taken away by AFO.

and that is literally the way he phrases it, though -- the verb used is “奪う” (ubau), meaning “to snatch away; to dispossess; to steal.” which, god, that hurts my whole goddamn heart though, because for him to say it like that?? not “AFO will kill you”, but “AFO will take you away from me.” he can’t have nice things anymore because of AFO. he can’t be around the people he loves because AFO will hurt them. he can’t have happiness because AFO will take it away from him. anyway so where the fuck is AFO right now, motherfucker I just want to talk.)

by the way can Ojiro just extend his tail to whatever fucking length he wants or what because it’s like twelve feet long in this panel lol

WOOO FUCK YEAH TOKOYAMI

YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!! BUT WHERE’S YOUR FLASHBACK? YOU’VE HAD A BUNCH OF INTERACTIONS WITH HIM, THAT’S NOT FAIR

okay so now Satou’s stepping in which is back to my anticipated order, so maybe Toko will finish his little moment afterward

dskfjfkk

“REMEMBER THAT TIME DEKU BORROWED SATOU’S FOOD COLORING” Horikoshi says, sweating. “AND REMEMBER THAT TIME HE, UM, SMILED IN HAGAKURE’S GENERAL DIRECTION”

actually I am curious about what Hagakure’s part will be because, you know, the whole traitor thing lol

(ETA: funny how we just skipped right over it huh. can we get a traitor reveal countdown started here? definitely getting close to that time.)

whoa lol wtf

MOMO??? THIS HAS MOMO WRITTEN ALL OVER IT DAMMIT

-- SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK

“SORRY MIDORIYA-SAN, I LEFT MY FUCKING CHILL AT HOME IN THE LOCKER NEXT TO IIDA’S HELMET” holy shit lmao

and here I thought she’d get a flashback to her time on the Baku Rescue Squad or something. but nope, no flashbacks from Momo, only terrifying sci-fi torture devices

poor Dark Shadow is such a trooper omg

“why am I the only one who has to make prolonged contact with his smelly disgusting self” taking one for the team there DS

FUCK YEAH KAMINARI NO JUTSU

THE PRICKLY BASTARD WHISPERER STRIKES AGAIN!! don’t suppose you brought any clean clothes you could sneakily force him into huh Kami

okay here we go, so now Shouji and Tokoyami are joining forces

um excuse me this is fucking awesome

wonder how he’ll break free? don’t think he’ll reveal Fa Jin until the end of the chapter, so maybe Air Force or something? idk

TOKO GETS AN EXTENDED MOMENT BECAUSE HE IS A TIER TWO PATREON REWARD LEVEL FRIEND YAY

WHY IS MOMO MAKING THIS FACE LOL YOUR THING WAS WAY WORSE

and Shouji just casually hitting him with what is easily the best comment from anyone yet. too bad Deku’s just gonna ignore it. you deserve better Shouji

KAMINARI OMFG

it only just occurred to me that Kami is currently trapped inside Dark Shadow right along with him lmao omg. realest one in the entirety of BnHA, right here. we will never forget your sacrifice

aaaaaaand Deku’s yeeting himself

do you really hate the thought of taking a bath that much my dude

oh shit the mask!!

-- oh shit the feels

o(TヘTo)

fuck. and I mean, we knew he was crying, that was a done deal. but still, to see him in this much pain is just...

and the acknowledgement that he knows they’re worried about him, but that it doesn’t change his mind one bit. this, right here, is why they have to be a bit harsh with him, you guys. because they’re up against the full, unbridled stubbornness of Midoriya fucking Izuku, and if they don’t match that stubbornness with an equal stubbornness of their own, they basically don’t stand a chance

(ETA: quick note that there is apparently another mistranslation here -- rather than saying that his friends are oblivious to the danger, what Deku is actually saying is that none of his friends have activated his Danger Sense once throughout this entire fight. which I had been wondering about, and it turns out Horikoshi actually confirmed it. so basically none of the kids bears any ill intent toward him, and there’s literal proof right there.

incidentally, as @class1akids pointed out, this also casts an interesting light on this chapter in terms of who hasn’t fought Deku yet. not to play the Hagakure Traitor Music for the billionth time you guys, but I’M JUST SAYING lol.)

anyway, but the good news is that they all seem to understand that. and the even better news is that we have reached the tier 3 friends!!

“OR ELSE” lol, great to see Shouto wielding his friendship just as aggressively as Deku once did towards him. I do love a good role reversal

p.s., ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “why is Shouto being so cruel to Deku can’t he see how hard this is on him”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: this is a callback to the classic “even heroes cry when they have to” Shouto line from chapter 137. Shouto is clearly following Kacchan’s lead here and going for the more ruthless approach, knowing that the gentle approach isn’t getting through to him (if anything it’s only making him more stubborn as we saw on the previous page). basically it’s his way of pointing out that even heroes are still only human, and so is Deku last time he checked

ah okay, and there Tsuyu is at last

okay real talk, I get why Tsuyu is included in the tier 3 friends, because she was one of the first people to team up with Deku going all the way back to USJ. but that said, this probably would have had more impact if their most recent interaction hadn’t been like 150 chapters ago

but anyway though it’s still a good speech. maybe not quite a cliffhanger-level speech, but a good speech nonetheless. in a way though, I’m glad to see that Horikoshi seemingly didn’t give a fuck whether he ended this on an actual cliffhanger or not for once

and that “headed toward the climax” part has me excited too, ngl. because if we really are getting to the so-called climax this soon, that makes me even more certain that there is indeed a DvK3 in the forecast. so I presume that next week (or I guess two weeks from now) will be the tier 3s along with the remaining tier 2s like Kirishima and Aoyama

and then after that, well... [orange and green banners being hoisted] [sound of screeching airhorns and vuvuzelas in the distance] [sound of All Might approaching in his car which I didn’t notice until I looked back at this page a second time whoops] THE PROPHECY WILL NOT BE DENIED

#bnha 320 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #asui tsuyu #tokoyami fumikage #kaminari denki #todoroki shouto #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

365 notes · View notes

hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

sundress || part 8

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 8] || weirdly normal

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : ['cause you're a one in a million // there ain't no man like you] streets x doja cat

taglist [open] :

@deepseavibez @thetrueghostqueen @reddeathraven @dingzerenistall @skyrro @unadulteratedlyunique @ramyagovindraj @itismochirice @wwhseokjin @drpepperobsessed @monamone @thekookiecorner @army-moa75 @burningupp-replies @lele-bb @pb-n-juju @red-kebab @heonsbebe @peachyyoongs @superloverpielamp @marifujioka @butterflylion @heyitsgigi @lochness-butmakeitsexy @miki-chi @cahowlkook @worshiphoseok @lilacdreams-00 @bongsbeforebibles @miriamxsworld @oasiswithmyg @peonyplace @annewrighthglc @calling-dips-on-j-hope @yoongiofmine @loveyoongles @instantspot @missmadwoman @x-xjaeminx-x @luvtaeha @vanillxangxl @renhold-nightspear @taeshuworld @lvrseok @supahumbreon

Saturday, 18 September, 4:33pm

“Sex?”

“No sex.”

“Not even a little bit of sex?! Just like, once a week!” Y/n lifts her head to level Yoongi with a glare, one that has him shrinking back and whispering ‘okay, no sex’. With a shake of her head, she’s dipping her head again, focusing in on the roll of parchment in her lap.

They’re sitting face to face on her bed, each holding some parchment and a quill as they try to ‘negotiate fair terms for their arrangement’, as Y/n had put it when Yoongi had complained about not needing rules.

Y/n’s making the final list of rules on her own parchment, Yoongi tearing off scraps of his and submitting suggestions, most of them sexual in nature. There’s a pile of rejects next to him, but he’s yet to lose hope. Ripping off another piece of paper, he scribbles ‘blowjobs?’ quickly and folds it in half, handing it over to her with a smile. She doesn’t even look up or open it, immediately crumpling it and throwing it back at him. It hits him squarely between the eyes.

Blinking once, he tears off another piece, unfazed - this one says ‘so no head?’. Somehow that one also hits him between the eyes.

“Okay — what do you think?” Y/n sits up straight with a smile, offering Yoongi her draft of the Rules List. He looks it over, eyebrows raised.

No sex!!

Romantic affection is to be kept to public situations as much as possible.

Saturday Night Routine is to remain untouched and untainted.

Min Yoongi must keep his scumminess to a minimum in private.

He finishes reading before looking up, eyes deadpan.

“You are so fucking boring.” Y/n scoffs, reaching out to take the parchment back, but he’s holding it above his head, grabbing for his quill. Quickly he scribbles a fifth rule, one that says “MAKE JEON JUNGKOOK SUFFER” in his chicken scratch. And then he looks up at her, another thought on his mind.

“We should have practice sessions.” Y/n furrows a brow, eyeing him with suspicion.

“What does that mean, and why do I already not like it?” He taps a finger on Rule #2, underlining the words ‘public situations’ lightly with his quill.

“We’re gonna be doing most of this stuff in public, so you’re gonna have to get used to getting freaky with me in public spaces. Library, broom closets, empty corridors and classrooms — that’s what I’m known for.” He looks almost proud when he says it, and Y/n can’t help her amused smile even as she shakes her head in disappointment.

“How are you so fundamentally gross as a person?” He grins back because she’s clearly fond of him, so he feels no shame in how he is, only explaining further.

“If the entirety of Hogwarts is gonna believe I’m taken and off the market, you’re gonna have to keep up with me, babe.” Y/n rolls her eyes, knowing he’s right despite not wanting to admit that. If Yoongi’s putting in the work to make it seem like he’s committed to her, she should at least meet him halfway. And Min Yoongi is a lot of things, but being a total sex fiend is what most people know him to be. She is gonna have to keep up.

“You realize it’s obvious you’re just trying to find somewhere to let out all your sexual frustration, right?” He doesn’t respond, only lifting an eyebrow, silently asking if she’s okay with that. After a moment, she’s sighing, pointing down at the list in his lap.

“Alright, fine. But we need rules for that, too.” He groans, throwing himself backwards onto her mattress dramatically.

“Why do you enjoy ruining every good thing in my life?” When she kicks at his thigh, he’s rolling over onto his stomach, flattening the parchment out in front of him so he can write the word ‘Sessions’, underlining it quickly. And then he looks at her.

“What are you comfortable doing?” She purses her lips, a smile dancing there, because she notices that he doesn’t make it about him and what he is and isn’t allowed to do. He makes it about her and respecting her boundaries. And she knows, by the way he’s tilting his head in confusion when she only smiles down at him, that he has no idea that he’s made that distinction. If he were anyone else, she’d be incredibly attracted to him right now.

But he is him. So she’s blinking that thought away, humming as she considers his question.

“Nothing below the belt…” He nods, writing as she speaks.

“Can I touch your butt?” When she lets out a noise of confusion, he’s looking up at her again. “Like, hand in your pocket while we walk, ass grabbing— that stuff.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. She nods after a moment, not seeing the harm in him doing that. “Sure? Not my boobs, though.”

Immediately, he’s flopping backwards onto the bed again, whininess coating his voice when he complains.

“But I already felt everything in the shower! What’s the difference—Ow! Okay!” She’s pushed her feet up against his torso, kicking at him aggressively until he’s rolled away to where she can’t reach him. And then he’s pouting, making grabby hands at her for emphasis while he continues, at a distance now where he can complain safely.

“You know I’d pick tits over ass any day! You’re just doing this to hurt me.” Y/n only smiles mockingly, reaching out to tap a finger on the paper.

“Don’t forget to write ‘no boobs’ there, too!” Yoongi grimaces, rolling back toward her and picking up his quill, angrily scratching the words into the parchment.

“Okay, anything else?” He’d made a big fuss about not being able to touch her boobs, but he’s already over it, and — again — Y/n finds herself full of adoration that Yoongi will never push her boundaries, already having accepted them even when he was complaining about them.

You’re just all bark and no bite, aren’t you?

“Actually, I do bite. I like biting. Why do you ask?” Fighting the urge to smack the palm of her hand to her forehead at the realization that she’d said that aloud, Y/n shakes her head at Yoongi, who seems innocently confused. He shrugs when she doesn’t explain, his eyes lighting up when he thinks of something.

“We should do kinks.” Y/n rolls her eyes.

“Absolutely not—"

“Why not?! We’re gonna figure out what we like eventually if we’re doing these practice sessions, so why not talk about it?” He looks childishly enraged, his pout returning. She only laughs at him, shaking her head.

“Because we’re not doing anything sexual, so what’s the point?” He sighs, sitting up and facing her, crossing his legs as he goes.

“Kinks don’t have to be sexual, you big nerd. It’s not about the sex — it’s about the trust.” Y/n blinks, not having expected him to say something so serious.

“Okay… but if it’s about the trust, how are you acting on all your kinks with the other people? You don’t really know them.” He smiles softly, shaking his head.

“I usually don’t, actually. I just do whatever they want.” Y/n gapes at him, unable to believe that Yoongi had been holding back this whole time.

“So, if someone’s into choking—"

“It’s up to them if they want to trust me to do that for them. Obviously, I’d never go too far, but everyone’s trust thresholds are different. Mine’s just really high, so I always made it about them instead.” He shrugs while he says it, as if they’re talking about what he’d had for lunch and not the surprising weight he puts on trust in sexual situations.

“And you wanna explore that stuff now? With me? We’re not even together.” He tilts his head in confusion again.

“Yeah? There’s no one I trust more than you.” Y/n thinks her head might actually start spinning, because Min Yoongi’s brain is just not wired the same as hers. His ability to be both incredibly simple about his life outlook and shockingly nuanced about the inner workings of his mind — he’s more than just confident and sure of himself. He’s completely self-aware. It’s not the first time she’s been stupidly fond of him, but right now, she thinks he’s amazing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/n blinks, realizing she’s just been staring at him that entire time. She shakes her head, slightly dazed, not even noticing that Yoongi’s looking at her with suspicious eyes. Pointing back to the list, she clears her throat awkwardly.

“Yeah, sure, kinks. But — I’m not telling you shit, it’s embarrassing. Figure it out yourself.” Eyebrows flying to his hairline, Yoongi reaches for the quill slowly, uncertainly.

“For real? You’re down?” She nods, trying to move on already, but Yoongi’s not letting it go, even as he writes it down. “Like… a game, then? We just test shit and see how we react? Because I already know you like having your hair pulled—“

“Oh my— Yoongi!” He snickers at her embarrassment, shaking his head. She has no reason to be shy, he thinks to himself. I’m the last person she has to worry about.

“So…” He glances up at her from where he lies, his eyes full of mischief. Y/n eyes him suspiciously, because he’s definitely about to say something stupid.

“Should we start now, then?” Lifting himself up onto all fours, he starts to crawl over to her, a smirk dancing on the edges of his lips — one that’s hidden quickly by the hand Y/n’s planting on his face, stopping him from coming any closer.

“Get out of my room, Yoongi.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Redirecting, Yoongi heads for the edge of the bed, sliding his sneakers on before standing. “I’ll be back in a couple hours—“ Turning, he cuts himself off, leaning down into Y/n’s face and smiling fondly when she backs away, rightfully wary of him.

“Kiss, please.” She’s immediately glaring, and he’s pointing down at the list on her bed, affronted. “You said Saturday Night Routine has to remain untouched — I still have like 2 hours until then. Kiss, please.”

With an irritated sigh, Y/n leans up, cupping Yoongi’s face and pressing her lips gently to his. Even knowing he’s probably got something up his sleeve, she’s unprepared for him to nibble at her bottom lip, trying to deepen the kiss. Pulling away quickly, she’s smacking at his arm indignantly, glaring when he laughs openly, his shoulders shaking as he does. He leans down quickly, pressing one last kiss to her lips before ducking out of the way of her swinging fist, chuckling to himself as he slings his bag over his shoulder and heads for the door.

“Don’t forget to choose something for us to watch while I pick up our food, okay? I’m not tryna let my dinner get cold because you’re indecisive.”

“That only happened once!” He shoots her a grin over his shoulder as he’s pulling her door open, his eyes amused.

“Love you!” Y/n rolls her eyes at the sing-song way he says it, responding with an annoyed ‘yeah, love you too’ as he’s closing the door behind him. She sits on her bed in silence for a few moments, vaguely disgruntled as she looks down at their list of rules and thinks about that entire conversation.

That was… weirdly normal.

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts texts #bts hogwarts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi texts

224 notes · View notes

pale-silver-comb · 4 years

Note

So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals.

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong.

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day.

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.)

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon.

#leverage #leverage ot3 #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #nate ford #talk leverage to me

7K notes · View notes

starbuckie · 3 years

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐬

pairing: highschool!bucky barnes x reader

words: 1.0k words

warnings: senioritis, fluff, and bucky being a clingy little shit

summary: senioritis is a bitch, and that virus certainly extends to two teens in brooklyn.

a/n: i’m tired of high school and shit and finals are kicking my ass so i wrote this lil thing. (also look at this lil skinny noodle theater boy, i woulda dated the heck out of him) anyways, please enjoy <3

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Y/N’s eyes focused in and out on the pot of pasta her mother was cooking on the stove. There were many other things she should have been doing, pressing matters like the fifteen unfinished assignments she had to turn in by the next Monday, but the combination of a near-summer school day and the stress of not actually doing the assignments was getting to her.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Great.

The bane of her existence came in the form James Buchanan Barnes, God-like dick game and loved by all mothers. His fluffy chestnut hair was swept under a baseball cap, and he carried two bags of groceries, for her mother, into the kitchen where she sat.

It wasn’t as if she were bothered by her boyfriend, but with him around there was no way in hell she would get anything finished. Turning back to the half-assed, half-written page she had been working on for hours, she tried to ignore the presence of Bucky hugging her mother hello.

Once again, an absolute kiss ass.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Bucky dropped a kiss to her forehead as he started to put the groceries away. Fucking suck up. “How come you didn’t answer my text? I asked if I could come over.”

“I did answer your text, asshole.” Y/N turned over her phone to check the texts for evidential proof. “Yeah, see, I texted you no.”

Bucky shoved the phone away from where she held it out to him, placing an orange on the table. “And I chose to ignore that text because I wanted to see you.” He sang with a smile.

That little smirk he wore was enough for Y/N’s tough resolve to break and she stood to pounce up on him from behind with a hug. She nosed his neck gently and smelled his cologne, amber and oud filling her senses and making her mind all boggled with thoughts of him.

“Hey, if you two are gonna be gross, then go upstairs,” Ms. L/N smacked her shoulder with the dirty dish rag and she squealed away from the hit. “But if you two are gonna bang, then go to his because I’m not washing those damn sheets for you do that.”

Both of the teens blushed at her ribbing, and immediately grabbed their stuff to scramble upstairs. As they trudged up the stairs with their backpacks, Bucky noticed the way Y/N’s eyes would flutter shut for a moment and the way her steps faltered. It was no secret that her five AP exams were kicking her ass, and the studying was no better.

The way he saw it, there was no point in struggling onto the slippery grasps of sleep in replacement of studying. Highschool was three weeks from being done, and soon enough they’d be out of Brooklyn and on their way to California to hit the sun and study their asses off in college.

As soon as they entered her ivy-painted room Y/N slammed the stupid essay on her desk and slumped into her swivel chair. Bucky knew the drill well enough by that point, dropping his backpack by the foot of her bed and flopping onto the pristine white sheets with an obnoxiously loud groan. “God, this bed feels so good, pumpkin, I don’t know how you can stay out of it for so long.”

“Well, when you’re falling behind in school it’s a lot easier than you’d think.” Y/N quipped back distractedly. The words on the paper seemed to swirl and move right under her stare, and there was no way she could focus. She knew that eight more pages of blank papers sat right under the first, all waiting to be filled out with sentences about the effects of cardiorespiratory coherence on the spectrum of human emotions.

Bucky groaned, hauling his legs onto the sheets and turning towards his girlfriend with a pout. “C’mon, babydoll, if you come over here, you can have sex with me. How’s that sound? You wanna have sex with me? I’ll do that thing you like, even make you shed a few tears...”

Though his offer sounded more than appealing, Y/N had to turn it down and shift herself in the chair to ease the throbbing of her core. “As much as I would like to cry on your dick, and trust me, I would very much like to cry on your dick, I unfortunately need to cry on my essay instead. I was getting work done all until you walked in with that cute lil’ smile of yours.”

Bucky blushed at the comment which made her grin. It was amusing how flushed he got after making such raunchy things to her. “Well, what do you want, babydoll. I can bring you a bowl of mac and cheese from your ma, or,” he scooped her up in his arms, reveling in her squeals of laughter, “I can snuggle ya to death. How’s that sound?”

Her voice was muffled against the fabric of his henley, but he could kinda not really understand the words she gurgled out. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

Y/N laughed in his hold, turning over to smush her face into his chest. “I’m just tired of this bullshit. All the assignments and late nights, and don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, but if I get one more comment about my study time management, I’m going to scream.” She sighed, clutching just a bit harder around his back. “I want it all to be over, I guess. Just you and me in California already, sitting in the sun and drinking green juices, or whatever shit they do over there.”

Bucky didn’t even have to say anything, Y/N knew he shared the same sentiment. College was fast approaching and scary, and the stress of the impending graduation did nothing but make it seem that much farther away.

“God, you’re so warm, I wanna lay with you here forever. Studying can go fuck itself.”

“Then stay with me, pumpkin,” he chuckled, pulling her closer. “I ain’t going anywhere yet.”

Legend has it that there was no studying done for the rest of the night, and Y/N’s mom would find them passed out in each other’s arms before six o’clock.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #highschool!bucky #bucky x yn #bucky barnes x yn #sebastianstan #marvel

259 notes · View notes

the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

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

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #avaskian caldwell #cliffhanger #sorry folks #not beta read

75 notes · View notes

dirtychocolatechai · 3 years

Text

meet-cute | b.b.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): fluff, awkward Bucky, vet appointment stuff, Alpine Request: Babes if you're lowkey taking requests can I lowkey make one? 👉🏼👈🏼🥺💕 something flirty and cute and maybe a lil spicy with Bucky and vet!reader where something's going on with Alpine? Not self indulgent at all 😻💖 Notes: This was the first thing I’ve written in months and it felt damn good. Funny story, I actually almost went to school to be a vet tech + shadowed a vet for two weeks and got to see some wickedly cool things.

This was a bit self-indulgent on my part because I had a cat who passed away some years ago because of struvite stones and I wished he had a happier ending like Alpine so I thought why not 🤷‍♀️💖

Taglist is open

(gif from google)

There’s nothing Bucky hates more than the stringent smell of industrial cleaners and clinical white walls - too many associations and shades of memory long laid to rest - except for when something’s going on with Alpine. The Turkish Angora was fine up until a few days ago when he started to hide away and sleep all day.

That wasn’t too concerning at first...

But then came the pained little noises, the frantic running back and forth from the litter box, the excessive grooming. The pit that started forming low in his belly grew, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong, very wrong, with his little buddy.

Bucky wasn’t about to fuck around and set up an appointment with the first vet office he could find that had a same-day opening. And now he’s trying not to fall apart at the seams while he waits for the docs to do their magic and tell him what the hell’s going on with his cat and what he has to do to fix it.

The vet tech collected Alpine a bit ago and every minute stretches into years, the cat’s pitiful meow echoing in his ears and those betrayed eyes burned onto the backs of his eyelids.

I know, Bub, I’m sorry but they gotta figure out what’s going on. It’ll be okay, they’ll take care of you.

His ass went numb from the plastic chair ages ago, his leg jiggling up and down at a rapid pace as he chews on his thumbnail and waits.

And waits.

God, he knows these things take time but he’d rather be back at home, curled up on the couch with Alpine pigging out on breakfast food and watching space documentaries.

How much longer-

“Alright, Mr. Barnes?”

The heavy door swings open with a click, a kind, professional voice preceding a pair of sensible shoes as the vet steps into the room with a clipboard cradled against her chest. His eyes snap up, skipping over her completely to look at the tech holding his cat who looks absolutely miserable.

She introduces herself but he’s not paying attention. He’s not meaning to be rude but all his focus narrows in on that white little face, the knot in his chest unfurling at the little mew.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he breathes, “Hey there, Little Buddy.”

The vet doesn’t push, in fact, she seems a little enamored with how much he melts at the sight of his pet. Her own lips quirk up into a soft smile while she stands off to the side patiently as Alpine’s set down on the metal table.

Bucky gets in a few good scritches under his chin, the beginnings of a purr just starting to vibrate his hand when the vet clears her throat delicately.

He clears his throat, heat burrowing into the apples of his cheeks. “Shi - uh, ‘m sorry.” A hand scrubs over the back of his neck. “I’m just - uh - y’know...”

Her laugh trickles down his spine like warm rain, the sound effectively drawing his attention away from the cat rubbing up against his side. He gets his first look at her and oh.

A bare face and a no-nonsense hairstyle greet him, her scrubs and white coat adding to the overall doctor vibe but she’s still breathtaking. The natural beauty in the curves of her face, the slant of her brows, the sparkle of her eyes.

He feels like he got sucker-punched in the chest, his heart giving a sudden throb that has him coughing like an idiot as he scrambles to not look like such a jackass.

“So,” he clears his throat, scratching at the stubble along his jaw, “What’s - what’s wrong with him?”

Glancing down at Alpine’s chart, she hums and writes a note before glancing back up with a reassuring smile. “Nothing that can’t be managed with a special diet and watching his water intake.”

It’s like the weight of the world disappears from his shoulders, his broad frame practically heaving with his sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking- ahem, ‘scuse me - thank god.”

Her chuckle and sly smile have him blushing from the roots of his hair to the collar of his shirt, his stomach squirming in discomfort. Old habits are hard to break, especially ones his momma taught him with a box to the ear.

“You’re allowed to swear, Mr. Barnes,” she says, reaching down to run her fingers through snow-white fur. “We’re all adults here.”

“No, no, I know...”

“Hm, anyway, his blood work came back and everything looks fine which is a good thing.”

And it’s back to business like that, any hint of personality hidden behind cool professionalism that Bucky thinks even Tasha would admire. Except for the playful gleam in her eyes as she sneaks peeks at him while going over everything they did and what they found.

“Struvite crystals are quite common in cats at low levels, especially males because their tract is longer and narrower.” She pauses, flipping to a new page. “Depending on the severity, they can clump together in the urinary tract and actually form stones. That’s where the true problem lies because get one large enough, and it can cause a blockage.”

He’s listening with rapt attention, soaking in the knowledge she’s imparting to him all the while, petting Alpine who keeps nuzzling him and making little sounds. Honestly, he could listen to her talk for hours even if he didn’t understand a goddamn thing.

She’s so animated when she speaks, holds eye contact and makes sure he understands everything without making him feel like an idiot. He’s had so many doctors who talked at him rather than with him, staring through him without seeing, more interested in the paycheck rather than their patients.

But not her, she cares.

Deeply.

He can see it all over her face and it’s utterly enchanting. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little enamored, charmed.

Turning the tablet towards him, she shifts closer and a waft of whatever perfume she’s wearing tickles his nose as she explains what the x-ray of Alpine’s abdomen found.

“These are the stones but thankfully they’re relatively small,” she points to several hazy white ovals starkly visible on the radiograph, “We caught them in time before they became a really big problem.”

Shit, she smells so good...

“Now, we’ll send you home with a special diet and see how he does. Also, make sure to up his fluid intake as much as you can. The food can take several months to start dissolving the crystals so we’ll have to do everything we can to help. Sound good?”

Bucky hasn’t pulled his eyes away from her face once this entire time, and how fucking creepy is that?

Quickly looking down at Alpine, embarrassment gnawing at his belly, he nods and wishes for the first time since he cut his hair that he hadn’t so he’d at least have a passing chance at hiding the blush burning its way across his face.

“Yeah,” he says, picking up the ball of white fluff to hold against his chest, a makeshift shield. “Is there anything else I should do?”

“No.” She smiles, writing another note and tapping away at the tablet next to her. “I do want to see him again in about a month for a check-up.”

Fuck, he doesn’t want to leave so soon.

The irony isn’t lost on him either.

How does he make this last longer? What can he do? If Sam was here right now, he’d be kicking him in the ass and bitching at him to ask for her number already, Ice Pick.

The clack of the chart being set down rings through the room, bouncing off the walls and sounding so fucking final that he starts to panic.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

She’s already halfway to the door when she asks, “Do you have any questions?”

The word vomit spring from him, unbidden and sudden without any thought, more forward than he’s been with a woman in years.

“Can I have your number?”

As soon as the question leaves his lips, he curses, cringes and wishes he could snatch the very words from the air itself.

Great, I just hit on my vet.

No amount of backpedaling can salvage this but goddamn it if Bucky doesn’t try, stuttering out some half-assed excuse about wanting it just in case he thinks of something later.

When he glances up, he wishes he hadn’t. The vet tech is in near tears in the corner, biting her lips so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if they started to bleed.

But it’s the absolute surprised bafflement on the woman he just inappropriately hit on that does him in, makes him about ready to burn all forms of identification and run for the hills.

Her brows nearly reach her hairline, her mouth slack, eyes startled. She gets ahold of herself before he does, and he barely stops himself from slapping a hand over his face.

Right when he’s thinking there’s no way he’s going to be able to show his face in the office again, her expression softens with gentle amusement and her lips twitch.

Struck dumb, he can only watch as she writes something down on a slip of paper before handing it over to him. He barely believes the string of numbers and the cheeky little call me anytime :).

The wink she sends his way is there and gone, so fast he almost believes he imagined it.

“For emergencies only,” she says, slyly. “Of course.”

“Of course,” he agrees, almost tripping over the cat carrier as he hurries to stuff Alpine back in. “Of course, thank you. I...appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky leaves the room in a stupor, the world sharply shifted to the left as he heads to the front desk to make the follow-up appointment, but not before hearing the whispered, “Girl, you’re lucky. He’s fine!” and the “He is, isn’t he?”.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you

469 notes · View notes