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thedrunkenreadersreviews · 4 months

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Regarding Alastor's Hallway Scene in Episode 5 of "Hazbin Hotel"

Good day, folks! As sweet Mimzy said, "...pour a few fingers of rye and he turns into a kitten" so let's do that. Let me set up my Redemption, and let's get into this.

*Sip, sip*

Now, this is quite an interesting thing; the phenomenon of the reactions I have been seeing particularly regarding Alastor in episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel has been ... curiouser and curiouser.

*Sip, sip*

The big question that I think we should be asking after this episode is who Alastor is leashed to---but there seems to be something else on people's minds and that is the interaction Alastor had with Husk in the hallway of the hotel. I mean, every great character needs an epic hallway scene. For Star Wars it was Vader and Luke. For Hazbin, it is Alastor. Let's explore this.

*Sip, sip*

As a society, feasting on entertainment, whether it be through books or films or a series, fans often say that they enjoy the "villain" or "morally grey" character as opposed to those who are set on their compass of goodness. I find this to be a lie that we often tell ourselves and believe completely.

Sure, we find them more entertaining and thus we favor them, but then we try to find excuses for their behavior, make it a despicable act that is done for righteous reasons. Or because we desire to see someone who is tremendously struggling or has a rather horrid reputation overcome this and prove to be a fantastic character underneath all the layers of darkness. We don't like them because they are bad. We may pity them for they often have the most tragic backstories, or we see the potential of their goodness. But we like them because we believe that everyone in their universe has the wrong perspective of their wickedness while we, outsiders looking in, see the potential of their heroics. What they can do despite everything.

That is not liking a character because they are the villain. That is liking a character because of why they are the villain and how they can overcome it.

A few examples:

Rhysand dressing Feyre up like a whore and tattooing her without her consent: well, he was doing that to protect her and help her.

Darth Vader: Mass murderer and second in command of an empire built on absolute control; but he fulfilled the prophecy of the Chosen One and had originally fallen because he wanted to save the love of his life and his unborn children.

Loki: Yeah, he slaughtered 80 people in 2 days, attacked NYC with an alien army killing hundreds if not thousands in the process, and committed genocide prior to that, BUT that's because he was severely broken and now he sits all alone at the end of time, saving an infinite amount of people.

Granted, I love 2/3 of those characters because of the reasons provided. But also because in their prime they were WICKED!

*Sip, sip*

Now let's look at Alastor.

Alastor, the Radio Demon, and one of the most feared overlords of Hell ... threatened one of the souls he owns. And now, I see people comparing him to Val or saying they hated him at that moment or now have a poor taste for him in their mouths. But ... this is exactly what you asked for from him.

*Sip, sip*

Val, who ACTIVELY tortures Angel Dust, is being used as the comparison for Alastor because he THREATENED and scared Husk after Husk stepped over the line.

*Sip, sip*

Alastor, when alive, was a serial killer. Alastor in Hell captured overlords, tortured them, broadcasted the torture throughout Hell, and became one of the most feared overlords.

He didn't do that by being "nice" or "charming." He did that by being vile and not for a greater good. He did it because, as far as we know, he wanted power. And, damn, he got it.

Demons KNOW to be afraid of Alastor. Granted, his reputation may have faltered because he has been away for 7 years but before his departure and even upon his return, for the most part, demons avoid Alastor as though he were death incarnate.

*Sip, sip*

Now, let's examine him in episode 5. Only the scene that is getting the most traction; I'll talk about Alastor and Lucifer in another post. But let's look at this scene:

Alastor and Husk in the hallway.

*Sip, sip*

Let me put some quotes here real quick:

From the Pilot:

Husk to Alastor: "Don't you [Alastor, the owner of my soul] 'Husker' me, you son of a bitch!"

Husk to Alastor: "Are you [Alastor, the owner of my soul] shitting me?"

Husk to Alastor: "You [Alastor, owner of my soul whom I have just shoved off of me] think it must be some big fucking riot just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I'm some kind of fucking clown? [even though I am contractually obligated to obey your summons]"

Husk to Alastor: "I [the one contracted to serve you and obey your commands] ain't doing no fucking charity job [even though you told me by your order that I have to]."

Alastor to Husk: "Don't worry my friend [you, who sold your soul to me so that you could keep your power because you almost gambled it all away], I can make this more welcoming [providing you with something that you enjoy even though you are contractually obligated to obey my commands without payment/reward], if you wish."

From episode 5:

Alastor to Husk: "It's nothing I can't handle, don't worry, Husker. [Proceeds to walk away, leaving the conversation] Who in their right mind would cross me? [Continues to walk away, posing the question as rhetorical and not requiring an answer]."

Husk to Alastor: "... You've been gone a while. And it's not like anybody knows why---"

Alastor to Husk: "They don't need to know. [And it does not need to be discussed further, so leave it alone.] And don't you worry your fuzzy head about it. [Drop it. Drop it now. Don't pick it up]"

Husk to Alastor: "You may own my soul, but I ain't your fucking pet!"

[Personally, I think Val would have instantly backhanded AD for that alone.]

Alastor to Husk: "Hmhm. But you are [So stop talking, just let it go, I'm letting a lot slide here]."

Husk to Alastor [the owner of his soul, who has slaughtered overlords of Hell]: "Big talk for someone who is also on a leash."

Alastor to Husk: "Aha. What did you say? [Now you have tested my patience too much!]"

*Sip, sip*

In the pilot, Husk openly and without fear insults and cusses at Alastor. And what does Alastor, the owner of his soul, do? He lets it slide.

In the one scene between them in the hallway, Alastor essentially still does nothing even though it is evident that Husk struck a nerve. At least twice over in this scene alone, Alastor gives subtle hints to Husk that it is best he just stops. And it is not like he even dismisses Husk's worries about Mimzy or even his absence. It's more along the lines of, "Oh, I know she is in trouble and came here for me to clean up her mess, but I am a bit occupied at the moment dealing with the actual King of Hell, so I'll get to it when I get to it. Just keep her busy for now." And in regards to his absence, he makes it abundantly clear that Husk is better off just not mentioning anything about it. He cuts Husk off, and essentially says, "Look, just keep quiet about it. It's no one's business but mine and I'm fine, I can handle it, so let's just leave it alone."

All the talk people say of Alastor having a big ego, oh undoubtedly, but it makes sense why Husk is in pride in this one scene alone. Alastor tells him "let it go," and moves to walk away from the conversation.

But Husk pushes. And pushes. And on that final shove, I think Husk even knows before Alastor got mad that he went TOO far.

*Sip, sip*

And Alastor still, for the most part, does nothing.

He reminds Husker that he owns his soul, pulls on the chain just to knock Husker off-kilter, and then, rather demonically, tells Husk to not EVER mention the fact that he is leashed again. Honestly, with what Alastor COULD do to Husk ... that was letting him off SUPER easy. Like, Husk should be kissing his feet that that threat was the only punishment he received for that comment.

Val? Forget it. AD would probably be filming for 3 days straight. Alastor doesn't even touch Husk.

This move is also a sense of security for Alastor, I think. Husk probably thought this was just another comment that would result in Alastor just ignoring it. But it takes Alastor by surprise and destroys his comfort. He loses himself in a fit of fury and pulls on Husk's leash to remind both Husk and himself, "Yeah, I might be leashed but I still own YOUR soul, Husk! So do not test me!"

*sip, sip*

So, yeah, Husk gets scared, as he should. Alastor is terrifying.

Should this lessen our opinion of Alastor as it seems to have done with so many fans?

No. Absolutely not. If anything, this scene provides balance to that paradox I supplied earlier; how we like the evil characters because of the good they could do but we should also like them because they are evil and should be expected to do evil things.

Alastor IS evil. He owns Husk's soul.

And yet, this evil overlord allows Husk to get away with soooo much. And when Husk oversteps, as he absolutely did, to not even be smacked by Alastor speaks volumes of Alastor's opinion of Husk.

*Sip, sip*

Here is my speculation:

Husk obviously knows more about Alastor than most. But Alastor owns hundreds if not thousands of souls. Husk is someone he calls on often, obviously. Husk knows Alastor is leashed. Faustisse, a former employee of Spindle Horse, and one of the original teammates beside Viv for the Hazbin project said that Alastor regards Husk as one of his closest friends. Perhaps not friend, but maybe one of his closest confidants. Why else would Husk know that Alastor is leashed? Granted, we cannot tell from the dialogue if Husk knows where Alastor was for 7 years or even if he knows who Alastor is leashed to. To some extent, though, Alastor must trust Husk.

In this scene, Husk violates that trust. He deserved to be threatened, reminded, and terrified. I adore Husk. He is one of my favorite characters and when I saw the hallway scene, I thought Husk deserved way worse than what he got.

And Alastor still takes what Husk had to say about Mimzy into consideration. He still tells Mimzy, a friend he has had since he was alive, that she needs to leave.

*sip, sip*

Yes, Alastor is evil. And it is soooooo good to see him BE evil. And not for a good cause but just because someone got under his skin. He owns Husk and he lets Husk off very easy. So to see him lose his temper and not even physically hurt Husk allows the nugget of possible, minuscule glimmer of somewhat kindness to linger.

I loved the hallway scene. It did a fantastic job of showing us what Alastor COULD be if he really wanted to, why you shouldn't mess with him, and how he elicits fear.

Val lords over his souls through physical abuse. Alastor does it mentally when called for. They are two totally different overlords with really no comparison to be made between them save for this: they are both evil.

*Sip, sip*

Alastor ate in episode 5 and left no crumbs. He remains, quite possibly, the most interesting character in the show. I cannot wait to discover more of him and watch him be absolutely wicked towards others.

Cheers to you, Radio Demon. If I were in Hell and had to be leashed to anyone, I would want to be leashed to you.

*Sip, sip*

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin alastor #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel episode 5 #hazbin hotel pilot

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bronx-bomber87 · 4 months

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Happy Saturday wonderful fandom :) Ahhh the next in the line of goodies to come. This one doesn’t have a ton for them but doesn’t mean there isn’t absolute gems in it. So it'll be a littler shorter than the last one ha Also Aaron is amazingly hilarious in this episode. I love him to death. Let us get started.

5x09 Take Back

We start off with Tim being Watch Commander while Grey is miserable in NYC ha Things get immediately awkward when Chris arrives. Still clueless as ever asking Tim of all people about Lucy’s taste in houses. I mean if you don’t know her taste at this point should you really be buying a house together? Tim looks intrigued when he says he needs his opinion then it gets so awkward when it's about a house...

Tim is so very uncomfortable when he asks his opinion. Knowing this is going NOWHERE for Chris. I’ll never forget this hilarious post I saw about this scene after it premiered. I couldn't find it this time around. Had the lyrics from anti-hero by Taylor swift. ‘It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem it’s me.’ You ain’t ever getting that house with her because of that man sitting there LOL Idk why that post made me laugh so hard but it did. It stuck with me clearly haha

It’s so very weird Chris comes to Tim for this. It's obvious he knows Tim knows her the best. Crazy to me he's not threatened at all by that fact. Clearly he isn’t if he’s coming to Tim for advice. Blows my mind how blind he is. Lucy comes in asking what they’re talking about? Chris tells her he found THE house. Lucy looking as uncomfortable as ever at this news. Saying he's going to call the realtor and call her later. Lucy's high pitched 'I can't wait...' Couldn't be more awkward if she tried.

He gives her a kiss on the cheek and leaves. Tim giving that good ole fake Sanford smile when he does. Tim's face crack me up. Like he stole your girl and you have no idea you putz heh Also just so on brand for Chris to not see how uncomfortable Lucy was. He’s been blind their entire relationship It’s unreal. You can also see how much Tim hates seeing him kiss her. Even if it’s on the cheek.

It’s almost a grimace really as he watches it. Probably thinking of all the ways he could easily kick his scrawny ass haha That fake smile begging for Chris to leave the room so this awkwardness can pass. How Chris doesn’t pick up on either of these vibes I don't know. But then we call him the clueless clown for a reason don’t we?

Lucy doesn’t look comfortable till Chris leaves the office. Tim asking 'How the breakup is going?' HA Cleary it's going well Timothy...Lucy tells him she’s in the planning stages. Just reviewing the literature. Classic Lucy response. Wanting to plan this out completely before pursuing it. Tim telling her a psychology journal isn’t going to tell her how to break up with Chris. I mean he's not wrong.... It's just a bandaid you have to rip off even if its uncomfortable as hell.

He’s so matter of fact with his wording. Using a sports metaphor to explain how she should do it. Makes me wonder if he's actually done this before? Ha She’s adorable in her reply of saying ‘Playbill?’ She truly has no idea what he’s talking about. It’s too funny. It's comical really Tim giving her advice on how to break up with Chris. So you know he can date her haha

Tim has been very patient in all this but you can see him getting a little antsy about it. It is interesting how full circle this moment is. He set them up in 4x12 and now he’s ready to help break them down in this 5x09. Tim is just so ready for Lucy to do this cause he’s anxiously waiting to be with her. It’s pretty damn cute if you ask me. He’s trying to be patient but also is like can we hurry this along a bit?

Lucy says that’s too cruel she wants to handle it her way. No matter how this goes down Chris is going to be hurt though. It's how breakups go there is alway someone who walks away more upset about it. Her empathy taking the front seat in this decision. Where Tim just wants her to rip the bandaid off. Get this over with ASAP.

This is where we see little bit of Tim’s self doubt kick in. It's written all over his face when he asks her if she's having doubts? Worried she’s delaying this because she is having second thoughts about him. About them. Lucy immediately squashes his anxiety with her reply. Shooting massive heart eyes his way as well. She wants Tim to know she’s all in just like he is. That there is nothing for him to worry about.

I love how sure Lucy looks when she tells him 'No, I'm not'. She is so certain this is what she wants. Needs him to know this as well. Not a doubt in her mind about this whole thing. She just has stuff to work out with this breakup first. The certainty in her eyes is everything. Nothing makes more sense to her in this moment than him.

That confidence of hers is why Tim relaxes the way he does above. His whole body draining of the tension he was carrying. His cute smile saying ‘Good.’ Could this man be more of a soft puppy for her? Look at him. That hope and excitement back in his eyes. Lucy replying in kind with her own 'In love 'gaze. They’re both all in and it makes my heart very happy. Also they’re having a full on flirt session in Grey’s office for everyone to see.

I adore Tim being so open and vulnerable in this scene. Making sure she wasn’t backing out. The same Tim who couldn’t communicate in his other relationships to save his life. But with this he is checking in with her. Letting Lucy know his stress about her not breaking up with Chris yet. Lucy assuages his worries instantly. When it’s the right one the harder stuff seems a little easier. More natural. Lucy sensed that panic and instantly calms him with her words and heart eyes. Gah so good. Look at these idiots in love. I just adore them so very much.

This next scene with Aaron is pure gold. I love him so much he cracks me up. Never expected him to be as funny as he is. He notes how quiet she is being and is asking what's going on? Lucy letting him know she needs to break up with Chris. First off like to say we are all Aaron when he says ‘Finally.’ To her breaking up with Chris. Yesssss and Hallelujah finally breaking up with the clown. Nails it even further when he says Chris was never on her level. I mean yeah he never was. Not ever.

Aaron is speaking for the whole Chenford fandom in this moment LOL Chris had nine lives with her and they've finally run out. Aaron's reaction is the best part of this scene. I love that he knew where Lucy's heart was and it obviously wasn't with Chris. He knows it’s with Tim 100 percent. Like most people in their world do. Tim is her equal in so many ways it’s insane. Chris could never compare as Lucy figured out last ep.

Aaron tells her they can practice her breaking up with him. So it’s much easier when the time comes. It’s not a bad idea tbh. This is where it gets hilarious. Lucy brings up them looking at houses. Aaron kinda judging her for letting get as far as looking at houses. Telling her 'Yikes....' HA Tell us how you really feel my man. Lucy reprimanding him saying that is not helpful....Oh Aaron I love you so very much.

Lucy starts her speech trying to find her footing in what she is trying to say. She looks over at Aaron in the middle of it and see he is crying. lol If you didn't laugh at this scene you're dead inside. It's so damn funny. Lucy asking him WTF he is doing? Aaron telling her he is channeling Chris's pain LMFAO I mean he's not wrong she had to be prepared for an emotional response. It's just the way he went about this that is so hysterical. He is having way too much fun with this.

Telling her they should do angry next. I'm rolling. Lucy is doing some channeling of her own. She is channeling her man in this scene. It’s so funny. So aggravated with his role playing in this. Wondering why she asked for his advice in the first place? hahaha They then get a call about a 'Navi'. Lucy is so confused. Aaron geeks out and says it's from Avatar. Tells Lucy she should ask if it’s full grown. The look she gives she is channeling her husband again so much. ‘Aaron, it’s a fictional character...’ LMAO

I really love this ending scene with them. Aaron wants to do one more practice run with her. Lucy tells him she doesn’t need it. (Oh but you do....) That she’s just going to go with her gut on this one. It sounds like a solid idea in the moment but it's honestly the worst thing to wing it. Especially when it's something this intense.

When something is this emotional the right words tend not to just come to you IMO. They sure don't for me. I love him being brutally honest with her about it LOL Saying it’s a terrible idea. That he likes the sentiment but this isn't going to end well. I mean he’s not wrong as we will see here in a bit. Lucy once again channeling Tim in this moment. Cutting him off from saying anything else and just tells him good night haha

We get to the breakup scene we’ve all been waiting for. Lucy is bumbling and awkward. Not knowing where to start. Chris once again blind as a bat. He has no idea why she’s acting this way. Lucy curses Aaron for being right about this moment. Saying she should practiced more LOL I adore her panicking and defaulting to Tim’s playbook advice haha idk what’s funnier that or her being shocked Chris knows what she means by saying that.

All that prep and thinking this out and she went with her man’s advice on how to end this. This makes me giddy to no end. I bet you it’s cause Tim was on her mind from the minute Chris entered the apartment. My guess is that is part of the reason she fell back on his advice. Literally the most Lucy Chen thing ever to use it then be surprised Chris knew what she meant. I love her sfm haha

Chris stumbles around shocked as hell she’s breaking up with him. He seems so very blindsided by the whole thing. I mean if the man opened his eyes for once he wouldn’t be that shocked…But this Chris we are talking about. Lucy tries to get him to talk to her more. Saying they should sit down and talk this out. Chris just bails not wanting to talk at all. Not wanting to fight for her at all. Just takes off like a child who didn't get what he wanted.

Now I’m ok with this. Obviously we all are. Just goes to show you Tim was willing to fight for her and Chris wasn’t in the end. Lucy said it was over and he just left. I mean he wasn’t wrong there isn’t much to talk about out. She doesn’t love him. But still no fight in him at all after Lucy does this. Just folds like a cheap suit. A clueless clown from beginning to end...

We’ve reached the scene of the ep that made us all swoon and squee. I remember feeling so anxious to get to this scene. I had to re-watch the episode to truly appreciate it all. I was too antsy to get back to them sharing a screen. I was so damn giddy this was the place we were in. They spent the majority of this episode apart. So all I could focus on was her coming back to him in this moment.

I adore Lucy coming back into the station to talk about the breakup right away. Needing to share this news with him as soon as she could. I love that she returned to work just to tell him about this. So anxious to get back to Tim after it was done. Lucy wanted him to know as soon as she could it was over with Chris. Knowing he was just as anxious as she was about the breakup. It's sweet how he tentatively approaches her when she says why she is back.

He wants to be understanding about it. Seeing if she wants to talk about it more. Doesn't just want to jump the gun and bulldoze her feelings about the matter. Lucy isn't there to chat about that though. She wants to cash in on him asking her out. Because she couldn’t wait another second without him asking her out again. They're both so damn nervous and sweet in this scene. Fidgety and excited about the prospect of their future. Lucy messing with her hands the entire time as she explains the breakup. Tim keeping his distance while she explains it.

Gah I love her fidgeting near her ring as she approaches Tim. Anxiously awaiting for him to ask her out again. Lucy’s nervous way of reminding him to ask her again like they decided. How she looks into the bullpen before approaching Tim. Saying ‘So…’ He looks nervously excited by her doing this. Eric the king of expressions strikes again. The way his eyes go to check the bullpen as well before refocusing on her. He isn't sure what she is going to do in this moment.

The entire station can see into this office. He looks so friggin cute in his nervousness. I love that that she makes him nervous like this it's so adorable. Lucy gains her confidence and looks him directly in the eye flirty as can be. Asking him if there's something he wants to ask her? The whole purpose of her returning to work is to secure their date. Telling him about the breakup was the catalyst yes. But truly she was wanting to hear him ask her out again.

Tim see's her confidence and starts shaking off his own nerves. Replying in a sassy manner. Their banter the undercurrent of this moment going forward. Fueling them with the courage to say what they want to. Tim can't help being playful and sassy with her replying ‘I can’t remember.’ Doing that cute smirk of his that I love so very much. Wanting to push her buttons a little because well it's Tim.

Lucy is affectionately violent in her reply haha Look at her she is beaming with adoration. She loves this goober in front of her so very much. ‘Don't make me hurt you.’ Because she would legit hurt him if she had to in this moment haha I saw a funny parallel from this to her ripping that tape off in 4x07. She'll do it Timothy LOL Don't test your girl.

I love how he gets serious after she says this. It's the way he slowly moves towards her. That intent look on his face in the first one. *fans self* gah. Then in the second one the way he melts for her. In a way only Lucy gets to see. Asking with as much giddiness and excitement as I ever seen in this man. "Do you wanna go out on a date? Look at this puppy of a man. He is beyond excited to ask her this question again. Knowing now he will get a yes with no stipulations this time around. There is still a little nervous hesitation in his delivery which is precious.

Lucy is bursting at the seams with absolute giddiness when she replies ‘Yeah. I do.’ So happy he's asked her again. How one looks when the man they love asks them out. There’s so much to love about this scene. He’s asking her out in the Watch Commanders office. I love that sfm. Both ecstatic they’re finally going on a date with nothing holding them back now. They’re at work and have to restrain themselves from being too obvious. Which you know they suck at heh

My god anyone looking in on them in that last gif could see how in love these two are. They're so excited just to be around each other right now. The way they’re just standing there looking into each other’s eyes with the dopiest in love smiles. I cannot. I remember thinking the break was gonna take forever to get through. What a time to be alive watching this the first time I remember. LOL

~~~

Side notes -non Chenford

Is it just me or does John have more chemistry with Genny than he does Bailey? Thought I’ve always had from this ep. Probably just me but I always thought they had solid chemistry.

Greys have a ROUGH SL in NYC.

Celina also has a hard time in the ep. With their suspect dying in custody. She has a tough rookie year.

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as8bakwthesage · 1 month

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I gave Tem Souldancer a proper reference for their civilian self and their Magical Boy/Enbie transformation!

So a couple of notes:

Tem Souldancer is 16 years old when they meet the Turtles. They use they/them pronouns. They are also a self-insert who I ship with Donnie.*

Tem is short for Artemisia, a name that they adopted after moving to NYC. Their "real" name is Crow, but they did keep their surname out of respect for their family's culture and history. So they went from Crow Souldancer to Artemisia Souldancer, but everyone calls them Tem for short.

Tem is Two-Spirit, and is on Testosterone. Their gender is "your worst nightmare." They are also ace-spec.

Tem was diagnosed with ASD as a child. Their special interests lie in the complexities of magic and systems of the mystic arts. They study magic almost like it's a science. And also crows. They have a huge thing for crows. Duh no shit

They are very silly

Tem's Backstory and Powers...

Tem's Backstory:

Headcanon time! The magic in ROTTMNT stems from two sources - from the Spirits of the Earth or from the Krang/Onni. The magic that comes from the Earth and its Spirits acts like veins, and ties all living creatures together. The veins are in all kinds of colours, depending on the life force of the person a single vein is connected to. For obvious reasons, Raph's is red, Leo's is blue, Donnie's is purple, Mikey's is orange, April's is yellow, etc. However, most people cannot see the Veins, including the Hamatos.

Tem, and by extension their family, can see these Veins, alongside some other stuff. This is because many centuries ago, a young woman was given these abilities by one of the more powerful Spirits in order to protect the Earth from the Demons who would try to destroy it (the Krang.) This woman adopted the title Souldancer because it felt like she was dancing among the souls of the living. This would become the surname for Tem's family.

Souldancer children are born with a small crystal on their body, varying in shape, colour, and location. These are called Soul Crystals, and they help the Souldancers use their powers. However, they only appear on firstborn children. Any other children born after do not get a crystal. The secondborn are taught how to do magic for reasons that will become apparent in the next paragraph.

The firstborn child would be trained in the mystic arts and in the ability to see and manipulate the Veins. The secondborn child would be responsible for producing the next generation of firstborn and secondborn children, so that the Souldancer line never died out. The firstborns are not allowed to have relationships or develop attachments to others. (Kind of like the Jedi Order in the Star Wars prequels, and the reasons why are the exact same.) The firstborn are called Guardians, and the secondborn are called Carriers.

Tem is a very weird case because they and their brother Rook are the firstborn together. They are twins, and they both have crystals. Rook's is green while Tem's fluctuates between white, shades of grey, and black (I'll come back to why that's weird later!) But Souldancer twins have never been born before this, so Tem's parents had to figure out what to do. Because Tem was born a few minutes after Rook, their parents decided that Rook would be the next Guardian because he was older. Tem would be the next Carrier. They were supposed to marry a man who was nine years older than them when they turned 16.

They tried to smile and continue living. But they've always loved using their magic and protecting and helping others, and they don't want to give up that part of themselves. So when they turned 15, they ran away from home and moved out to NYC, where they knew an entrance to the Hidden City was. They figured that being closer to the Hidden City would mask their Soul Crystal from their parents' detection.

Tem set up shop and began working as a waiter, while also doing VTubing on the side (which they are slowly but surely getting more views and money from.) They also use the nights to their advantage to not only fight crime and help out injured people using their powers, but also to fight any and all remnants of the Demons' armies. Tem is also trying to destroy any and all remaining Krang weapons (one of which being the Dark Armor.)

Tem meets the Turtles in season 1 of ROTTMNT. They get very insecure about having to share a spotlight with any other heroes. Tem has lived in their brother's shadow for years and wants to escape it and make something of themselves independent from their family. They project hard on the Turtle brothers as a result. However, they soon become friends with the brothers, and develop a rivalry/friendship with Donnie (which eventually turns into a romance, but that's a very slow burn.)

Tem's Powers:

Remember how I mentioned above that Tem's Soul Crystal being greyscale is weird? Well, here's why! All Souldancer firstborns are born with a Crystal, and they all come in different shapes and colours. However, no child has ever been born with a Crystal like Tem's before.

The scale of White to Black shades in magic is reserved for those with a LOT of power, typically Spirits. White magic was typically more focused and could allow a person to utilise any kind of magic they wanted to. Black magic, on the other hand, was harder to control and was more prone to instability. However, it was also the culmination of all colours, so it could also do crazy powerful stuff. The shades of Greys in magic are a combination of both of these aspects. The darker the shade, the more magical energy a person had, but that magic was unstable and difficult to control.

Tem's Crystal changes colour depending on how upset they are. If they feel a very strong emotion such as hatred or terror or even love, their Crystal gets darker. However, Tem's appearance while transformed is a mix of different shades of greys mostly because it is a reflection of their experiences with their magic and emotions. The colour of their Crystal only changes whenever Tem overexerts themselves.

Tem's powers are more specific however. They can see the Veins, but they can also interact with them. If they spend enough time, Tem could find anybody in the world using the Veins. They can even siphon magical energy from a large network of sources to heal others. Think of it like the Law of Equivalent Exchange. Typically, minor injuries like cuts or bruises or even sprains don't take too much magic or effort. Wounds, stabs, broken bones are trickier but also not too difficult to heal. Near-death injuries are harder, but not impossible. However, when someone dies, it is basically impossible to heal from that.

Tem also can drain the life force and magical energy from others. Very similar deal to the Healing magic. Draining magic is easier when it's in smaller quantities. Typically draining small amounts of magic from someone will make them tired or weaker. In larger quantities, it could bring someone to near death or even kill someone. However, removing so much magic from someone as to practically take their soul would absolutely be way too much Black magic for one person to handle and it could possibly kill them.

Alongside that, Tem can also mimic the powers of the Turtles, mostly whenever they are in close proximity to them. So the closer Tem is to a brother, the easier it is for Tem to mimic their powers. Their crystal and clothes even have the colour of the corresponding brother added to them, which disappears when Tem is no longer using their powers. It's also important to note that the more Tem uses one of the Turtles' magical abilities, they also tend to feel whatever it is the brother in question is feeling. They can only use one power at a time, and if they try to do multiple at once, it is too much.

In their Corvid form (as they like to call their transformed black and white self), they can glide, jump farther, run faster than any ordinary human. They also have a significantly higher pain tolerance and much faster reflexes.

*I have been a TMNT fan since 2012, and I was 16/17 when Rise was announced/released. Tem is an abridged version of myself in 2017/2018, which is when the events of the first season start. I'm adult now, so any and all content from me about teen Tem and teen Donnie will be strictly SFW. This is kind of a grey zone for me in terms of self-shipping because it's retroactive and Tem's experiences differ from my own drastically.

Why I'm retroactively self-shipping is very personal to me, but it boils down to healing my inner child/teenager. I grew up with these characters and I'd like to pay homage to my younger self and give them some love and support from healthy places. This is very much a love letter to teenage Aso.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt oc #rottmnt self insert #art #my art #tem souldancer #self insert

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ginger-canary · 9 months

Text

The Waters of NYC

Words: 2499

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Dimension 20 (Web Series), The Unsleeping City, A Starstruck Odyssey

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Riva & Sundry Sidney & Big Barry Syx, Riva/Em | Angel of the Waters, Sofia Lee/Margaret Encino (background)

Characters: Riva (Dimension 20), Sundry Sidney, Em | Angel of the Waters, Big Barry Syx, Sofia Lee, Margaret Encino

Additional Tags: When I say crossover I mean it, it's what they deserve, I took some liberties with Riva's powers let it go, Neurotypicals? In this economy?, Zine: D20 Zine Jam (Dimension 20)

Series: Part 2 of Like the Stars are City Lights

Summary: Part two to my crossover, sometimes love is between a sentient statue and a water-breathing alien. Riva, Sidney, and Barry go sightseeing while their ship is docked in NYC. They go to central park. We all know who lives in central park.

For the @d20zinejam 2023: D20 rarepair compilation zine. Follow the link to AO3 here or read under the cut!

Out of all the places to explore, Riva had to admit they were a little nervous about NYC. They’d looked up some facts and interesting places to visit while Maddie would be working on the tech upgrades. Sid and Barry had agreed to join them on their explorations, mainly because neither of them really felt like doing research.

Since this was an Earthly city, Riva had been concerned that they wouldn’t be able to explore at all but then Maddie told them about this Umbral Arcana that kept the not-so-standard creatures safe. With that information, and miss Margaret’s distracted blessing, the three of them had set off on their way. There were many places listed on the internet as “Must Sees” but Riva had picked some out that showed up on every list. Central Park was their first stop, and with some effort they took the subway there.

“Alright,” Riva said as they took their first steps onto the grass, moving to a less crowded area of the park. “Over there we have the Arsenal, which was a munitions supply depot for the NY state national guard. It’s supposed to look like a fortress.”

The three of them looked up at the building.

“They sure do fortresses differently here.” Barry squinted and lowered his sunglasses.

“It’s got the battlements?” Sid offered.

They moved along, skipping the central park zoo for obvious reasons and pausing to look at the sheep meadow. Sheep grazed lazily or lay down, napping in the grass- utterly ignorant of the people watching them.

“They look so cozy. Like grass is the best place to lay.”

Barry grinned and patted Riva’s drone’s shoulder. “Not to worry, you’re not missing out that much. Plus you’ll find pieces of grass everywhere afterwards. Now these sheep are really soft.” He reached out, brushing the back of a fluffy brown sheep.

Sid reached out and scratched the sheep behind its ears, who craned its neck, pressing against Sid’s hand.

Riva sighed. “Give it some extra pets from me.”

After the sheep had (to Barry and Sid’s opinion) had enough pets, they moved along to the strawberry fields, utterly free of strawberries.

“This is false advertising, it’s just a field,” Barry sighed.

Sidney shrugged. “Maybe they were going to do real strawberry fields but people kept eating all of them?”

“It’s in memory of mister John Lennon who sang the song Strawberry Fields forever,” Riva recalled from their research.

Barry crossed his arms. “Still could’ve used strawberries.”

As they walked to the Bethesda fountain, they took a moment to watch kids play on the ancient playground. It was strangely grey and brown for something inspired by ancient Egypt, with the play structures pyramid-shaped and bricks stuck out at several levels so they were easy to climb.

“This seems… grim. I thought it’d seem more fun.” Sid tried readjusting her perception of colour but it had no effect.

Barry shrugged. “Not every playground can be a win. At least there’s slides.” He turned, moving to the Bethesda fountain with the others in tow.

“Woah. Now this is impressive.” He leaned over the edge of the fountain, skimming the water with his fingers.

Sid focused on the angel. “I like her wings, she seems rad.”

“Thank you.” The angel unfroze and sat down on her pedestal. “I’m Em. You guys must be from the Würst.”

Riva moved their drone to between Sid and Barry and slowly pushed both their raised guns down. “How did you know?”

Em focused on Riva. “I can see through the Umbral Arcana. While this is the United States, people don’t usually carry guns that big here.” She gestured to Barry. “Or have a gun for an arm, for that matter.” She smiled at Sid.

The gunners sheepishly lowered their weapons.

Sid smiled politely. “So you know about our ship?”

“Yes, Sofia told me. At least- she told me about a hot dog spaceship so I asked Ricky for more information. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Riva informed the other two that Ricky was the jacked guy they had met when the ship landed via a mind message. “So you’re… um.”

“A statue, technically.” Em gestured down at her body. “I’m a living statue. I was created to guard this fountain and I’ve been living here ever since.” She hopped down, wading through the water towards them. “How about y’all?”

Barry scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I’m a clone. But also a human, I guess?”

“I’m an android.” Sid waved her regular arm. “Built to do anything- except walk on grass with ease.” She raised one of her skates to show the blades of grass stuck between the wheels.

“I’m Aguatunisian,” Riva said. “But what you see is not me- it’s my drone. I can’t go out as easily as the others since I have to stay submerged in water.” They tried to keep the tone of loneliness out of their voice but as they floated in their tank, no one else in sight, it was a struggle.

“Ah, I understand.” The words sounded baffling. Em was a statue in a metropolitan, someone who never left their home and existed in one place for over 200 years. Riva had seen tens of planets, a nearly infinite amount of stars and creatures Em could not fathom. RIva was not made for a purpose, like Em. But Em still understood.

“I like your fountain, though.” Riva took inventory of the large basin.

“Thanks. I’d invite you to hang out here but it would probably take a lot of effort to get you here, huh?”

The group agreed.

“So I think you’re rad as hell, but I expected the strawberry fields to have strawberries and now I’m hungry. Riv, what’s the best place to get some food?” Barry patted his belly.

“Oh, I don’t recommend grabbing food around here- everything’s a bit of a tourist trap.” Em gave Barry directions to the nearest bagel place that had been Dream Team approved.

Barry and Sid set off but Riva considered their options. “Why don’t you guys go ahead? I’ll stick with Em. I don’t eat in this form anyway.”

Sid opened her mouth to protest but seemed to catch Riva’s gist. “Okay. If you need anything you’ll talk, right?”

“Of course. Don’t get into trouble, okay?”

“No promises!” Barry yelled over his shoulder as they left.

Riva turned back to Em, happy that their drone could not blush. “I, um. I’m just curious.”

Em smiled. “Well, so am I. What’s your tank like?”

On the ship, Riva looked around trying to figure out how to describe their home. “It’s, well. It’s made especially for me. I have tubes running throughout the ship so I can explore which is nice.” They paused. “Sometimes I wish I could hug my friends more often.”

“None of your friends can breathe underwater?” Em tilted her head.

“No. Sid doesn’t need to breathe so I can hug her but she’s kind of a people pleaser and I don’t want to pressure her.”

Em stepped over the ledge of her fountain, towering over Riva’s drone. “I know we just met, but I don’t have to breathe and I have no tech that could break. Would you like a hug?”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Riva’s mouth fell open. “Um. Yes. But can you leave your place? Won’t there be consequences?” Somewhere in the back of their mind they wondered if they had to ask Margaret before having Em over.

“I know I can leave for some periods of time. Like I said- the Umbral Arcana takes care of me.”

“Oh okay. Cool.” Riva piloted their drone to hold out their makeshift hand. “I can walk you to the ship.”

“Actually, I have a faster idea.” Em flexed her shoulders. “I can fly. Let me carry your drone?” She tentatively held out her arms.

Riva laughed. “Okay. First I’ll check in with Miss Margaret just so she knows someone will be coming by.” Their mind reached out to Margaret, just a little further away in the monastery. “Hey Marge, I’m having someone over in the ship!”

In the middle of the dojo, Marge gained a blank stare. Sofia raised her eyebrows then flipped her onto the ground again. “You really should focus on me.”

Marge groaned. “I was sending mind messages.”

Riva received a loud “Yeah, sure. Just don’t make a mess.” They grinned and piloted their drone into Em’s arms. “It’s all good!”

For someone purely made of stone, Em flew swiftly and soon landed in front of the monastery. She decided landing directly in the garden would be a great way to get killed so they’d take the normal route. On their way in, Sofia greeted them.

“Hey, Em- wait a second.” She stopped walking and squinted at Riva’s drone in Em’s arms. “Did you break that?”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m fine miss Sofia,” Riva responded, making Sof jump.

“I just fly faster than they can walk,” Em added.

Sofia looked back and forth at their faces for a moment but decided to move onto her shower.

Em shrugged and walked to the backyard where Riva’s drone took the lead, helping Em navigate the hallways of the Würst. They deposited the drone at its usual station and Em walked onto the bridge.

“Hi.” Riva waved from their tank, circling around to avoid the nervous energy growing in their gut. “It’s nice to see you.”

Em stood stock still with their mouth open, watching the ease with which Riva moved through water. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You are so cool.” She moved closer to the tank, gently pressing her fingers against the glass.

Riva pressed their hand to the glass on the other side. “You are literally a stone angel.” Then, as an afterthought, “and so tall.”

“I love your colours.” Em started looking for a ladder, some way into the tank when Riva used their psychic push to press a button on the wall.

A ladder came down from the ceiling as the entire tank lowered slightly, leaving enough room for Em to enter the tank.

She started climbing without hesitation, hopping over the edge and slowly sinking down. “Hey,” she mouthed, reaching out.

Riva placed their hands in hers. They smiled and told Em “hi.”

With her feet now settled on the floor, Em pulled Riva into her arms, curling her wings around them too. To anyone walking in it must’ve seemed like a strange event. A stone angel at the bottom of a large tank with her arms and wings around Riva. But it didn’t matter.

“Thank you for coming all the way here just to see me.” Riva wrapped their arms around Em’s neck and connected their mind to hers.

“Testing… Can you hear my thoughts?”

“Yeah, it’s a part of my magic.”

“Cool. It was absolutely worth coming here.” Em pulled back but kept hold of Riva’s hands. “In hundreds of years you are definitely one of the coolest people I have ever seen.”

Riva laughed. “Will you tell me about the other cool people you’ve seen?”

And thus Em told tale upon tale about the world of The Unsleeping City, weaving wonders for Riva they could not have dreamed of. In turn, Riva told Em about some of the planets masquerading as stars in the night sky above the skyscrapers. The many people that they had met, and the way things went back home.

Sometimes, messages from the crew would come in but they were never urgent and Riva could reply to them without taking their focus off Em. Time passed as the stars in their worlds grew closer, similarities shining in their eyes.

Riva took the time to admire Em’s wings- every detailed carving done with care and effort. “You came into being like this?” They asked, hands pressed against the beginnings of Em’s wings, feeling the movements of her body.

“Yes. As far as I know I have always been this shape and size. No growing or changing.” She flexed her wings, sending small waves round the tank.

Riva twirled around Em. “You could still change mentally, though. Physical growth isn’t the only kind of growth.”

“That’s true. I think everyone I’ve met in my time as a defender of the city has taught me something in some way. That growth is something that happens when you come in contact with new people and experiences.” She pushed off from the floor of the tank, temporarily joining Riva in their spinning suspension.

“What have you learnt from me?”

Em reached out as she sank back down, her fingers brushing the scales on Riva’s back. “That the universe is so much bigger than what I can perceive of it. And that I like you.”

Riva grinned, taking a moment to look at Em. “I like you too.”

Smiling, Em shook her head. “You misunderstand me.” She curled her wings around herself, suddenly looking much smaller. “I would like to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Riva curled around Em, moving between the wings. “What a coincidence. I would like to kiss you too.” They wrapped their arms around Em’s neck and pressed their nose to Em’s. “So can I?”

Em laughed and kissed Riva, wrapping her arms around their waist.

“Well this has got to be the most normal thing we’ve walked into.” Sid and Barry had appeared on the bridge, each sporting a large bag of what Riva could only assume was NYC merchandise.

“Hey!’ Riva and Em smiled at them.

“Oh, don’t let us interrupt.” Sid elbowed Barry. “You owe me some credits- I told you it would happen.”

“And I told you it was just too weird.” Barry slapped a palm to his forehead. “I should’ve known never to bet against weird.”

The two walked off, bickering about whether or not this event could be defined as weird.

Riva shrugged. “Normal is not a concept I grew up on.”

“I don’t think something being weird matters. What matters is whether or not it’s right for you.” She pulled Riva closer. “Besides, both our worlds are super weird according to most people- isn’t it kind of inevitable for them to come crashing together?”

Riva kissed her. “While I do agree you should know these worlds have crashed together at more points than one.” They grinned. “Sofia and Margaret are out on a date.”

Em laughed. “Of course they are.” She brought up a hand to cup Riva’s chin. “If it’s okay, I want to spend the rest of the day just thinking about you. I’ve learnt enough about the world to know how to appreciate the good things.”

Riva felt the blood rush to their cheeks. “Cool.” They pressed their lips to Em’s again.

Hundreds of years ago, Em was named the angel of the waters in and around New York City. Right now, that included Riva’s tank- and Em had never been happier that her domain had grown.

#Riva #d20 zine jam #d20 #dimension 20 #a starstruck odyssey #aso #the unsleeping city #tuc #big barry syx #sundry sidney #em angel of the bethesda fountain #sofia lee #margaret encino #freckles writes things #queue can be your own boss too

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jmagnabo92 · 4 months

Note

Hi, rwrbnygiftexchange here! Your match is: ssmtskw. They would like fic or art or gifs and these are their prompts: New Year’s eve but make it Groundhog Day mixed with a little bit of Scrooge ~ one of them keeps living through New Year’s eve but it’s from various different years and this guy they haven’t met yet keeps popping up in all of them

Alex gets roped into going to a historical reenactment event with June and damn if the guy out there isn’t turning him on… maybe there is something to that Mr. Darcy billowing shirt stuff

One of them accidentally gets the other's winter hat on the subway and it follows them on their ridiculous journey to get it back to the original owner (bonus points if things end up on the news / they are somehow live blogging or sharing about their day) and the return of the hat isn’t the only sweet treat that evening

They don't want anything nsfw. Remember, don't publish this ask and keep your match a secret until New Year's Day. If you have any questions or problems, send us an ask. If you have to drop out at any point, please let us know ASAP so we can ask one of our pinch hitters to step in. For questions about the prompts, you can contact your match, but remember to keep your identity a secret until January 1st! If you want to let us know you received this message, you can create a new post and tag us. Happy creating! - Team rwrbnygiftexchange

@ssmtskw Happy New Year! & Thanks to @rwrbnygiftexchange for setting this up :)

I wrote the Hat Prompt - hope you enjoy it :)

IF HATS COULD TALK

When Alex finds a hat on the subway, he goes to any length to find the owner despite his friends teasing him about it. Luckily for him, the owner finds him.

AO3

***

Alex always hated winter, especially since moving to New York City. Although it was pretty terrible in D.C., it was even more terrible in NYC, and it made him terribly miss Texas, but his life had changed drastically when his mother had won the Presidency, and he’d chosen Georgetown for undergrad. It meant living in a cold winter area for nearly four years before choosing law school in NYC following his Georgetown graduation.

That… might not have been his greatest idea. He could’ve gone to a warm climate for Law School like June did for her graduate studies (once Alex left the White House, she figured it was time for her to as well), but he didn’t have a boyfriend in California that he was eager to be with like she did. Although, to be fair, he hasn’t really had the opportunity for much dating as the First Son, too much paperwork. June was lucky in that regard – meeting Evan before they were First Son and First Daughter.

Not that it matters, anyway, because he chose NYC and now, he has to deal with that.

He rushes through the crowd with Cash, his secret service protector, following close behind him as he barely makes the subway. He knows that Cash prefers that he uses secure cars, but he had enough of not being the normal college student at Georgetown and had insisted on doing it with law school, which meant riding the subway and being a real new yorker.

He collapses in a seat, taking his hat off and laying it next to him, he’s relieved that something was open and closes his eyes for a minute or two. His stop is only three stops away, so he doesn’t have long but he was running late and needs a few minutes to himself. He doesn’t bother to notice the people around him, even as he feels a presence join him seconds after he sits and the presence leaves at the second stop.

When he opens his eyes to get ready for the third stop, he reaches over and grabs his hat without thinking, and makes his way out of the subway station. It’s not until he gets outside that he realizes he grabbed two hats instead of one.

One is his – slightly holey because he should’ve replaced it by now (and no, it’s not the reason that he was so cold and not into winter, no matter what Cash says), and one that isn’t his. It’s a soft grey hat with an H emblem on it. The H looks vaguely particular. Like some monogram he’d seen before, but he can’t place it.

“Cash, you didn’t see who this belongs to, did you?” Alex questions.

Cash shakes his head. “There were so many people that it could’ve fallen off of anyone.”

Alex hums and puts it on. “I’ll figure it out later, I’m already late enough.”

“Then, stop yammering and let’s go.”

Alex rolls his eyes but leads the way to the school. He couldn’t miss any more classes than necessary (he already misses enough due to stuff for his mom), he’ll worry about the hat leaver later.

***

Despite his earlier determination to worry about the hat leaver until after classes, as he sits beside his best friend and one-time lover Liam for lunch, he finds himself staring at the hat wondering about the hat leaver.

“You know that it can’t talk to you, right?” Liam teases. “It’s not going to explain who it belongs to any more than I would have explained to you that us fooling around meant something.”

“Maybe if you had, I would’ve figured myself out sooner and we wouldn’t have lost a year and a half of friendship,” Alex states.

He’d been quite oblivious and determined that fooling around with Liam hadn’t meant anything – it was totally a normal thing to do as best friends, except, you know, it wasn’t – and even though it didn’t work out with one of the staffers when he was working for his mom (however briefly) on her campaign, one kiss with another guy had certainly thrown things in perspective (especially when he insisted on talking about it) and reaching out to Liam had been one of his better ideas that resolved their issues and put them back as best friends just in time for Liam to take up graduate studies at NYU, too.

“Some things you just have to figure out for yourself, surely you’ve realized this by now.”

Alex huffs. “I just feel like I know the person.”

“Based off a hat?”

“Well, I mean, it’s embossed – that’s gotta mean something.”

“Are you sure that it’s for a person and not like a brand name?”

“It’s not a brand name, I’m sure of it.”

“Well, then, what’s your plan? How are you going to find one person in a sea of a million people?”

“I’ve got a few ideas…”

***

His ideas started with getting on and off at the three stations between his home and the school and visiting the lost and found. Unfortunately, no one had come looking for a hat and as Cash pointed out, they don’t know when the hat leaver got on or off the train. Thus, he had to go to plan B, which was to go through all of the different available brand name symbols and make sure the Liam was wrong about the damn thing and it wasn’t just a random name brand.

He asked Nora to help – who found his randomly obsessing over a hat as hilarious and tease worthy.

“What makes you think the hat leaver even cares?” Nora questions. “Not everyone gets so easily obsessed with things that they come across on a random subway.”

“Or maybe they’re missing their very precious hat and would appreciate my efforts to reunite them.”

“Not everyone cares a ridiculous amount about their hats – by the way, have you replaced that old ratty one you’ve been wearing yet?”

He hadn’t bothered to answer, and by the end of that endeavor, he had two thoughts: man, he has a thing for people who are assholes to him and that he really needs to control his obsessive behavior sometimes.

Now, is not one of those times.

He wasn’t giving up. He decides that maybe he could try and get on that exact train and that exact car, hoping to run into the hat leaver – even had a note attached to the hat that said, ‘Am I your hat, if so please tell me’.

Unfortunately, wearing a hat that said that did not help whatsoever and the he did not run into the hat leaver.

All that did was get Alex (and Cash) more annoyed as various people decided to interrupt throughout the day, but definitely were not the hat leaver.

It was not one of his better ideas.

After that, June suggested that he make a post a twitter – probably because she knew he’d get inundated with tweets back claiming that they were the hat leaver, when NONE of them could even tell him where they left the hat.

It was a truly terrible idea, but June, Nora, Liam, and Cash all ended up laughing at him for thinking that it was all a good idea. He knew better than to trust them.

At the point where he was with June at some event that he’s actually supposed to speak at, he can’t help saying, “I need to figure this out.”

“You know, I doubt the hat leaver as you call them even cares about the hat. If they’re fancy enough to have it monogrammed, they probably would’ve bought or made another one by now,” June offers.

“No, I don’t think they would’ve, but even if they did, I have to figure out who owns this hat.”

“Technically, it’s owned by you –”

“It’s borrowed by me.”

“– it’s been a week, baby bro, you’re not going to find a random person searching for their hat. It’s yours now.”

Alex huffs but doesn’t have to time to argue because he and his hat are on for their speech. Maybe the hat leaver would see him on the news and find a way to contact him?

He could only hope.

***

Alex can’t help groaning as he stands in the entrance way of the White House (he was annoyed to be here when it was halting his pursuit of the hat leaver since the odds of finding them aren’t high in D.C. when they lost the hat in NYC). Standing outside in the freezing cold to greet the Prime Minister, Prince Henry, and Princess Beatrice just a few days before the state dinner. It had been decided that he and June would show the Prince and Princess around D.C. as an attempt to foster a good relationship with Britain.

Considering that he and Prince Henry hadn’t exactly gotten along previously (despite the thawed ice after their near-miss with Prince Phillip’s wedding cake – they had nearly caused an international incident and been told quite frankly that they needed to find some way to be neutral to each other). The hour spent glaring at each other in silence in one of the many rooms at the palace had only been broken by June and Princess Beatrice insisting they talk out every one of their few encounters and figure out what the problem was.

It only took one – the first.

Henry had been apologetic when he figured out what the problem was, and Alex had apologized for not realizing that Henry was a prick to everyone in his grief (even though that wasn’t really his fault – how was he to know?). They had agreed to be neutral, but that didn’t mean they were friends.

In the few times since they’ve managed polite conversation, but they still didn’t interact much, and he didn’t know what he was going to do for three days while he supposedly showed him around the city.

When he voices this thought, June, who’s standing beside him, teases, “Maybe he’ll help you search for the hat leaver? You could go on an adventure searching for hat leaver with you.”

Alex groans. “I need better friends.”

June just laughs as they pull up.

***

Alex waits and accepts a handshake from Henry, who pauses, hand still in his, and says, “Is that my hat?”

“Your hat?” Alex questions. “What – how? This is a hat I’ve been trying to find the owner for – for a week now, who lost it in New York City…”

“I – er – I live in New York City now. I lost my hat a week ago. I think that’s it.” Henry lets out a laugh. “I saw your tweet, and you wearing it during your speech, but I didn’t realize until now…”

Alex takes it off as Henry lets go of his hand. He runs his thumb over the emblem. Now, it made sense – it’s H over the royal insignia for the British royal family. “I can’t believe – I’ve been trying to find the hat leaver since I found it – it’s��yours…”

Before Henry could respond, his mother and the Prime Minister interrupt to usher them inside and suggest that Alex and June show the Prince and Princess to their quarters.

“Henry says it’s his hat,” Alex states. “I told you I would find them.”

“Technically, he found you,” June states. “Are you sure that it’s your hat? Because it would be far funnier to continue watching Alex attempt to find one person in a sea of millions just to give them back a hat.”

Alex glares at her as Beatrice laughs.

“I like you – older sister privileges, teasing their younger brothers.” She winks back at Henry before asking, “Did you make him dress up in dresses when you were little, too?”

June doesn’t hesitate to confirm as Alex and Henry both yell, “Hey!” “OI!”, but it doesn’t matter because they’re both running off leaving their brothers alone and embarrassed.

“So… you’ve been searching to return the hat?” Henry asks. “Why?”

Alex looks down at the hat. “Oh, uh, I don’t know, really. It was just… I’ve had the same hat for a long time… if my hat could talk … it would basically be able to tell my life story… well, it’s winter story anyway. And I – it just looks cared for despite its slightly weathered age, and I just thought… the person who wore it might have a connection to their hat as I do to mine.”

Henry smiles, softly at him. “I do. Actually.”

Alex looks up, half expecting him to be mocking Alex’s thought about hats, but he isn’t. He seems genuine.

“I’ll tell you my hat’s story, if you tell me yours?” he offers.

“Sounds brilliant.”

***

He does show Henry his quarters before they go back to Alex’s room, and share stories about their hats. Alex’s hat is from 2010, the year his father left, and his parents divorced. It was his last hat given to him at Christmas from his parents – jointly. It’s dumb to hold onto it, he thinks, but somehow, Henry assures him it isn’t.

“Sometimes, we like to hold onto the past … and this is a piece of a past that you don’t want to let go of…”

Then Henry explained the origin of his hat. It was a gift from his father. He had felt terrible about being away to film his Bond movies, and he taken up knitting so that he could knit each of his children something special to bring home from his filming. It, too, came from 2010.

So that hat did have a story behind it.

They while away the night telling their hat stories (which are really just stories about themselves). It was as if telling the stories from the hat’s point of view allowed them to not feel like they were bearing their souls to one another despite not really being friends.

Well, except…

“I suppose we can call ourselves friends, now, after this, yeah?” Alex asks, as the night comes to a close. They have places to visit tomorrow, and it’ll at least be nice to feel like it’s less of a duty and more of something fun he can do with a new friend who’s not an asshole.

Henry pauses in his doorway. “Perhaps we could be more?”

“More?” Alex asks, admittedly confused.

Henry leans forward and kisses him lightly, like a Prince fucking Charming, and damn, it was good. So damn good.

They break apart, and Alex is quite stunned, but smiling. He’d completely forgotten that Henry had come out in the last year despite the stories about his foundation and the youth center for LGBT+ in NYC (which is why he was on the subway in the first place when he lost his hat).

“I know it would probably be a lot to date me, but if you’d like to …”

“… go out sometime?” Alex finishes. “Yeah, I – I, uh, would. Law school kicks my ass a lot, but uh, we have our couple of days now and uh, I would – would very much like to date you.”

“Good.”

Henry gives him another kiss, this one a bit deeper, but it’s interrupted by clapping, which jars them apart.

“Finally!” their sisters cheer, which suggests that they knew something that at least Alex didn’t, but he doesn’t find that he minds.

“Do you mind?” Alex asks. “We’re trying to have a private moment here.”

“In the middle of an open doorway where anyone can walk passed?” June teases. “Yeah, real private.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, you already interrupted –”

“And now, I’m dragging my brother off for details,” Beatrice says, not waiting for a response from any of them drags Henry away by the hand.

Henry follows after her glancing back and blowing Alex a kiss with his free hand. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” Alex calls after him.

He turns back to June, who pushes him back into his room and demands, “Details, dish.”

With a stupid grin on his face, he says, “If my hat could talk…”

***

A year later, Alex grins as he puts his hat in the pocket of his coat as he hangs it up. It’d only been a week since their anniversary and Henry asking him to move in together, but he couldn’t help feeling at home already.

It’d been a world wind of a year since he’d found Henry’s hat on the subway, but every day, he’s grateful it happened. It opened up their worlds to a different side of each other, a side that brought them together as more than acquaintances and potential friends, but to boyfriends… and it’s been perfect.

All thanks to a lost hat mishap.

Best mishap ever – totally worth it.

#RWRB #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox #henry fox mountchristen windsor #Alex/Henry #First Prince #Happy New Year!

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silvanoir · 2 years

Text

it’s too damn hot

Been sick from the heat. I’m one of those people with wonky immune systems that can’t stand it when it gets over 85. It it has been.

Recent study showed that all the air pollution from NYC blows right towards where I live. Now MA has more reasons to hate NY than Redsox versus Yankees. I see it, feel it, smell it, the grit on my car windows, yellow and grey powder long after pollen season has ended. I sneeze it out.

I’m also constantly nauseous and my head feels like it’s full of hot silly putty rather than a brain. And global warming is only going to get worse and worse every year for the rest of my life.

I’ve been missing a lot of work because there’s no AC in our warehouse, only fans. And the fans are in the center of the building. I work in the front. I bring a small rechargeable fan and an icepack but its not enough.

The grass died and turned to dirt. The garden withers despite watering it in the mornings, just a little, briefly. The town reservoir is drying up. Egrets and herons and seagulls take advantage of the flopping fish. Animals have eaten all my vegetables and fruits (damn deer, damn chipmunks).

My dad is still living me (I wish he was not, but... eh) and he’s an old man with no circulation and keeps turning up the thermostat and I keep turning it down. He likes it at 80. I like it at 70.

I’ve been spending a lot of time in my basement (at least it’s cold down here) remodeling it, painting the dark paneling white and the trim gold, clearing out all the junk my mother asked to “store” over the years. She had more shoes, more coats, more EVERYTHING than one human can use in a lifetime. Indeed, she died before using most of it. I have re-occuring nightmares about her, that there was a mistake, she’s not really dead, and they return her to me not as the mother I miss from 2015 and before-- the one I took shopping trips with and went to lunch with and got along with (and lived her her own place), but the one she was in her last year of life, sick and angry and crazy who’d scream at all hours and tried to stab me to death with a pair of scissors but was too weak at that point to succeed.

Been watching DVDs while I paint and clean. Right now its a rewatch of ANGEL, I’m more than halfway through season 3. I think this is the last time I’ll rewatch this show and give the DVDs away when I’m done (It’s the only box set I’ve ever had that’s in a literal square box, I don’t know why all DVD cases weren’t this way, lots of wasted space in a standard DVD case)

Should’ve taken before and after photos of the basement remodel, to show how much work I’ve been doing. Its taking up my free time rather than the internet and working on my own art.

#real life

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inflagranteinnuendo · 6 years

Note

i loved your suits x svu crossover with barba!! i know christine is in med school from an ask she answered a while back, could you write a grey's anatomy style crossover with barba?? love your blog girls x

Happy holidays les amis! :)

long ass pre-scriptum before this long ass fic:

i was in a fancy ass gourmet salad place downtown a few days ago and it’s a place where the waitstaff learns your name when you order. So whoever attends the table calls you by your name and i didn’t think much of it until this Sharply Dressed Gentleman™️ one table over suddenly got up, strode over, greeted me by my first name, and asked for my number.

can i just say i was really glad that i didn’t have salad stuck between my teeth anyways long story short i remembered this ask on my way home and was suddenly inspired

A story in 5 parts, set in New York, with foreplay consisting of words, a lot of sexy and feelings, and absurd, manipulative schemes.

A man crossed your periphery vision. Navy pinstripes, baby blue pocket square in a three-point fold, burgundy silk tie, dove grey dress shirt, clean-shaven jaw, slightly downturned lips, sharply curved nose, and preoccupied green eyes…

Your gazes cross. Distracted by your appreciation of this fine male specimen, you trip on your own two feet.

And upend the entire cup of your coffee down your front right in the middle of the cafeteria.

Your co-residents at the nearby tables unanimously clap in response, led by none other than Cristina Yang. You flush and let your head droop back in exasperation, sighing, as staff and visitors alike turn curiously toward the source of the lunchtime commotion.

“Very dignified, doctor,” Meredith Grey laughs. Fine male specimen forgotten, you frantically try to save your cellphone from a liquid death, and she thoughtfully fishes the stethoscope out of your coat pocket before you initiate the world’s first qualitative study on The Effect of Freshly Brewed Coffee on the Rate of (Overpriced) Stethoscope Tubing Degradation.

What a good friend.

“Let me get you napkins,” she says.

Slapping your cellphone on the table, you dejectedly drop down into a chair next to Cristina to await her return, grimacing at the feeling of rapidly cooling coffee against your skin.

“Still Bad Luck Week?” Cristina snickers around a mouthful of greens. “I told you. Get laid. A good dick will fuck the bad luck right outta you.”

“Turn around, Yang, bend over, I’ll show you where your advice fits in my stupid schedule,” you grumble, flinging a wet hand at her head. Laughing, she dodges the droplets that flew at her.

Meredith comes back with a fluffy Jenga tower of crappy cafeteria napkins, glowing that ungodly post-Derek-Shepherd-kiss kind of glow. You look past her, and…

Yep.

Dr. Derek Shepherd, MD, Msc, FACP –aka your off-service attending of the day– is cocking his head at you, his post-Meredith-Grey-kiss smile melting into a frown, silently marking you down on professionalism for disgracing his (and the hospital’s) good name with your attire.

You grimace at him and mouth a regretful ‘sorry’ in his direction.

He throws you an unimpressed glance when his next step lands him in the lake of coffee you left behind on the caf floor.

“Fuck. Grey, you gotta put in a good word for me with your boyfriend. Please. I just soiled his Reeboks. Bad Luck Week has gone on for twice as long as its name indicates,” you lament at Meredith and Cristina as you clumsily cover yourself with napkins that instantly bloom brown with your watered-down $2.35 coffee.

“Hang on, start from the beginning, I wanna hear this,” Meredith demands as she unashamedly dabs at your chest.

“It all started when I was given the wrong room number for the morbidity and mortality rounds. The email said sub-basement 4, room 5046. And do you know what sub-basement 4, room 5046 is?”

“Uh… no?”

“It’s a fucking unisex wheelchair-accessible bathroom.”

Cristina guffaws and Meredith sprays spits all over your face. “A-a uni-unisex wh-wheel-wheelch-” she wheezes, tears of hysteria welling up at the corners of her eyes.

Scowling, you grab yet another napkin from the depleting Jenga tower and wipe dots of her saliva off your face. Gross. She had just kissed Shepherd. “And then, I was locked between the OR door and the offices when my card magically demagnetized. And I had to spend 15 minutes trapped in that hallway, trying to convince security that I was an actual staff with an actual medical degree who has actually been paged for an actual laparoscopic cholecystectomy that has my actual name beside it on the actual procedure board –”

“Excuse me?” A voice interrupts.

Meredith and Cristina were still hiccuping, faces red, spines curved, heads between their knees, so you take the responsibility of whirling around toward the source of the voice.

What the actual fuck.

It was the fine male specimen from earlier.

He speaks again but this time, he enunciates your earned title, and puts an upward inflection at the tail of your last name as it shapes his lips.

And you acutely feel underdressed in your coffee-drenched attire and stolen cafeteria napkins when you spot the silver gleam of cufflinks, peeking through his impeccably stiff dove grey shirtsleeves, with an engraving that reads “RB” –his initials, you presume.

“Uh. Yes?” You very eloquently enquire, mouth dry.

Bless your white coat, soiled with coffee as it is. There was no way a man like RB would’ve ever mistaken you for a physician if you hadn’t been wearing it.

Cristina’s head snaps up and she eyes the man with a mix of appreciation and calculation.

“Hi,” he greets the three of you with a nod.

Meredith has finally stopped laughing and is watching your exchange like she’s watching a tennis match, head swinging back and forth between you and RB.

“I overheard your story about how bad of a week, or two, you’re having,” RB continues, now only addressing you with a singular focus and a slight smile. “My name is Rafael Barba. I work as a prosecutor for the DA’s office.”

Your eyes widen with every word that came tumbling out of his mouth. You watch, flabbergasted, as he reaches into his pinstriped suit jacket and slides a business card on the table by your damp phone. You stare down at the card, absent-mindedly slapping Cristina’s hand away when she stealthily reached for it.

“I don’t usually do this,” Rafael Barba boldly says with a small self-satisfied smirk, dispelling all notion that he was introducing himself in a professional capacity. “But I saw how you looked at me earlier –”

Your eyes snap up to his, cheeks immediately flushing red. He notices, and his smile grew. “–and you’ve really made my day with your stories, so please give me a call –”

He leans down and scrawls a number at the back of the business card, blessing you with a whiff of his woodsy cologne.

“–at this number when you have the time.”

Rafael Barba patiently waits, as if he had all the time in the world, for a sign that you understood.

You swallow and nod, still dripping with lukewarm coffee.

Then, with a last smile, and a faint ‘nice to meet you’, he turns and strolls out the cafeteria without a backward glance.

“What the fuck,” Cristina whispers softly. “And you think you’re wet?”

The huge Trump tower looms over you in all its judgemental glory and you frown up at it, judging it back, all the while feeling misplaced and underdressed once again. It was becoming a theme with this Barba guy. Maybe he was a loaded, die-hard republican, coasting on daddy dearest’s legacy. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you can just fuck him and that’d be it, he’d be out of your system and you can move on to bigger things.

“Jean Georges?” You demand in your airiest voice, trying to pass off as about 900 000 times more French and nonchalantly rich than you actually are.

“Right this way, ma’am.”

You consciously smooth down a scowl as you were guided through to Jean Georges Vongerichten’s pretentious eatery.

When Rafael Barba had suggested on the phone that you meet him at this particular restaurant, you’d shrugged and accepted without asking questions. Sampling every crook and cranny of your bed –not world class restaurants– was what you did in your free time. So when a quick Google search spit out the location of Jean Georges (Trump International Hotel & Tower New York), you were imbued with a Strong Sense of Civil Responsibility and took it upon yourself to extend your research in order to cover ADA Rafael Barba (Manhattan prosecutor, Straight Outta South Bronx, Harvard law) and his political affiliations (unspecified).

Due diligence is normally not part of your pre-date routine, but a dignified girl has to uphold her standards.

Meredith had been completely outraged when she’d learnt where you were meeting him, but Cristina had sat you down and painted your lips the colour of fresh arterial spray, and told you that good dick is good dick, but don’t fuck this abogado if he stinks too much of that orange stench.

A maître d’hôte greets you at the entrance. “Reservation under Barba,” you announce, before taking in your lush surroundings. Swallowing your apprehension, you realize that ending up under Barba this evening is becoming less likely as the night wears on… and you haven’t even laid eyes on him yet. Everything screams money, from the embroidered napkins to the people using them to dab at their botoxed lips. Thoughts arise, unimpeded, to the forefront of your mind –of one your patients wasting away, unable to afford the standard of treatment.

Your skin crawls in revolt.

You have never been more uncomfortable in your entire life. Despite wearing a dress that cost you about two months’ worth of rent, you self consciously straighten up in an attempt to push back at the aggressive shove that the sight of the top 1% gave you.

The maître d’hôte leads you toward your date’s table –and there Barba is, sipping at his water, eyes intently on you, following your form as you weave through the tables behind the maître d’hôte.

Barba stands up courteously from his seat when you reach him and smiles that small, smug smile at you again, perfectly at ease with being in the Trump International Hotel & Tower New York and Jean fucking George. And despite him wearing another sublime bespoke suit ensemble that looks like it would cost you the equivalent of your annual revenue as a surgical resident, you are completely and utterly disenchanted.

“Good evening, Mr. Barba,” you say in a tone dryer than the tannins ever bequeathed the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on the table. “What an interesting choice of restaurant.”

Under his hawk-like scrutiny, you sweep the back of your dress forward before settling down in the lily white seat among the richest lily white asses of NYC. His eyes do not dip down to your low neckline.

“Thank you, doctor,” he replies, nonplussed, nodding at the waiter in thanks before settling back down in his own seat. “Glad to know that you approve. You struck me as a woman with a taste for the finer things in life.”

While droning on about the differences between the prix fixe and the chef’s menus, the waiter tips the Cabernet Sauvignon over the crystal wine glasses. You tune him out to narrow your eyes at Barba over the stream of red spewing forth from the mouth of the bottle, wondering whether you could get away with breaking the stem of your glass and, in front of 30 live witnesses, stab Barba with the pointy tip –just for his comment.

Down, girl.

“We will have Chef Vongerichten’s selection, please, and a half-bottle of your 2007 Château Malartic-Lagravière, thank you,” you interrupt the waiter with a smile, then look back at your date, who doesn’t even blink at your ordering for the table. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mr. Barba. Maybe the finer things that appeal to my palate don’t include you.”

“Yet,” he amends, without missing a beat.

You unceremoniously shove Barba onto the perfectly made bed before stopping to breathe while you take in the sight of him: hair tousled, pupils blown, lips swollen, tie loosened, half-undone belt askew.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you hiss at him, kicking your heels off angrily. “Why would you do that to me?”

“I like my women riled up,” Barba drawled, slowly easing himself up to watch you perform the quickest strip-tease in the history of forever.

“What the fuck,” you bite out breathlessly with your hands on your hips, “is your problem? Don’t you think I’ve had enough crazy on the job? Couldn’t you have brought me to this nice, low key place where the fucking chef’s menu doesn’t divest you of several hundred dollar bills?”

Barba raised his eyebrows. “You’re the one who ordered some obscure Bordeaux off the cuff,” he retorts. “How about you stop trying to out-argue an attorney and divest yourself of that pretty bra?”

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows. “Well, Mr. Attorney, since you’re so good at arguing, why don’t you argue me out of it?”

He sits up fully to undo his tie, the motions of his wrists deliberately slow. “When did you realize–”

“–that you were fucking with me?” You scowl, crossing your arms.

“Well,” Barba pauses, letting the newly freed ends of his tie drape down his front. He leans back on his wrists to leer at the top of your tits, “that’s not entirely accurate. Technically, I haven’t fucked you yet–”

You step forward and he spreads his legs to accommodate you, pulling his trousers taunt across his crotch. “What makes you think,” you lean over him to leer at the line of his hardening cock, “that you are going to fuck me, not the other way around?”

“Tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to,” he whispers.

…un-fucking-real.

“You did all this to rile me up?” You ask, whipping his tie off his collar and pressing him backward with the weight of your own body. Down on the bed he goes, almost docilely, save for that predatory glint in his eyes. “That’s a… sizeable lump sum to invest in a one night stand.”

You suddenly find yourself on your back, dizzy and out of breath, staring up at a pair of sharp green eyes.

“Oh,” Barba says softly, reaching out to unhook the front clasp of your bra. “Is that what I am to you?”

“What else are we to each other?” You retort, gasping as he follows the line of your sternocleidomastoid with his lips and occasionally, his teeth. You reward him by undoing a button of his dress shirt each time he nips at your skin. When every button has been undone, he raises his head to kiss you.

“Even now, knowing that I’m not a complete asshole?” Barba huffs self-deprecatingly, breaking off the kiss. And he looks so vulnerable, especially with that stray curl of his hair over his furrowed brow, that you can’t help but smile.

“Who said you’re not a complete asshole? The burden of proof is on you, Mr. Barba,” you cheekily counter with a wink, though not unkindly.

An appreciative grin makes its way to Barba’s lips. He gives you another kiss, a deep, all-consuming one that has your guts twisting pleasantly. Was this a thank you kiss for not making fun of him?

“How high are your standards?” He wonders curiously, while unfastening his cufflinks and shrugging off his shirt. He chucks them carelessly to the side before leaning over you again.

“Beyond reasonable doubt,” you manage to gasp out as he gently tickles the tips of your nipples with his tongue.

You feel his chuckles vibrate through your thorax. “Of course,” he concedes, running a hand up and down the soft skin of your thighs, making you shiver. “The highest standard for the highest court in the land.”

A laugh escapes you before you could reign it in. “Did you just call me your workplace, the Supreme Court?”

He mouthes along the length of your sternum till your xyphoid process, as if performing some erotic median sternotomy, then obliquely, down the right costal margin of your ribs, simulating a Kocher’s incision. “Well… you are a piece of work.”

“Work at me then, Mr. Barba.”

“Oh, believe me, I will.” His fingers ghost linearly, above the line of your panties – Pfannenstiel, your mind supplies– and a sudden blaze of pleasure makes you arch your back.

He has barely even touched you and you’re already reacting this way.

“So, doctor,” Barba begins casually, propped up on a forearm beside the splay of your hair, as his fingers dip below the waistband of your panties. “You strike me as a woman who knows exactly what she likes in the bedroom.”

“And you strike me as a man who knows exactly how to please the highest court in the land,” you breathe against his lips, each words a kiss. And as he narrows in on your clit with astonishing precision, so does your focus. Unconsciously, you begin undulating your hips to meet the pads of his teasing fingers.

Then you realize that the possessive bastard is spelling out his own name against your pussy, but there’s nothing you can do to stop him now, because you are too busy tearing the 1000 thread count bedsheets apart with both hands and squirming up against his body, begging for more friction, for more of him, because your entire body is on fire, and he is gasoline, and only he can feed you this kind of pleasure, that possessive,

…R, possessive bastard,

…B, and his green,

…A, green eyes–

–and you come violently with a loud gasp, arching off the bed, head cradled against his forearm, thighs tensed and clenched around his.

“Fuck m-,” you pant, but the rest of your words are muffled against Barba’s curved lips as they press against your own in a bruising kiss.

He rips your panties off –this man does not waste any time. And so you don’t either. You reach down to unfasten his trousers, trying to stay single-minded on your task despite the highly distracting tricks that his tongue is playing on you. But you are drunk, much too drunk on the inoxicating liquor that is Rafael Barba.

He was right. You did have a taste for finer things in life, and he was one of them.

The third time you fail to unzip him, Barba laughs into your mouth and helps you out of pity. “What have you done to me,” you grumble at the ceiling as he kicks off his trousers and boxer briefs. “I transplanted a liver yesterday. Now look at me.”

“I’m not done with you yet,” he ominously cautions, rolling on a condom.

“By all means, counselor,” you taunt, running a hand through his chest hair. “Make your case.”

If Rafael Barba were anybody else, you would have kicked him in the nuts for being such a fucking tease.

“Beg for me.”

Eyes scrunched shut, bottom lip bitten through, you hiccuped before shaking your head defiantly at him. “Those your opening arguments when you try your cases?”

In retaliation for your remark, Barba runs the tip of his cock from your clit down to your entrance again, parting the soaked lips of your pussy to rest himself there for what seemed to be the 28th time. You were about to sob in desperation but one glance at his flushed face stopped you. Because, to your absolute delight, he looked as frustrated as you felt, if not more.

You’ve got to admire his tenacity, though.

“Beg,” he reiterates.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the idea, doctor.”

He does it again and both of you groan at the filthy wet click of your pussy as the length of him slid around your clit. You clench on dissatisfactory emptiness, and suddenly, you’ve had enough.

It’s 2017, and you’re a strong, independent woman who knows exactly what you like.

This time, he was the one to find himself on his back, dizzy and out of breath, with you straddling him triumphantly, grinding yourself on the underside of his cock. “And what an excellent idea,” you purr, manhandling him into position.

As you sink down on him, his pupils progressively dilated, until his irises were mere rims around them. He blinks as you clench around him, and his fingers tighten on you, digging crevices into your hips as the girth of him splits you wide, and the length of him assails you crudely. You put one hand around the base of his neck for balance, the jump of his carotid quickening under your fingers as you did so.

Anchored, you begin snapping your hips forward, riding him hard and fast, never fully unsheathing him on your way back. And maybe it was the fact that an attorney always strives for control, or maybe he was too turned on to care, but his hands are restless –pushing you further down on him, squeezing your tits roughly, roaming your thighs, making you sigh, making you shiver.

Abruptly, Barba surges up, steadying you with a hand in the back of your neck when his change in position almost threw you off him. He pulls you closer to him while he rocks up into you. The intensity in his eyes makes you falter and it’s almost too much for you, too real, too sudden, too significant, so you let your eyelids flutter shut to distance yourself from that look when he rests his forehead against yours.

That was not a look you’d give a one night stand.

“Look at me,” his voice rumbles. “Don’t close your eyes.”

You bite your lip, choosing not to obey, but a sharp, deliberate twist of his hips makes you gasp, and your eyes fly open involuntarily.

“Rafael,” you stutter, floored at the exhibition of his tenderness as he traces your zygomatic arch and follows the line of it to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear. At the sound of his name, he shifts his hands to cradle your head as if you were precious to him, and you whimper helplessly against his lips when your heart skips several beats. Your lips can’t help but be drawn to his in a deep kiss, pouring in all the feelings you don’t have the courage to let yourself express.

You come before him, still lost in his eyes, silently, turbulently; and he, next, inhaling in your exhales, shuddering.

And for all your earlier exchanges of taunts and parries, silence.

He captures your lips in a slow, momentous kiss as the both of you wind down, and you finally yield to it, to whatever that has shifted between you in flagrante, letting your defensiveness and fear of intimacy recede with the tide of your high. Beneath your hand, Barba’s heart is still beating wildly, despite the languidness in his half-hooded green eyes and the relaxed set of his shoulders.

This is one perceptive man, your mind idly remarks, impressed, as he notices the change in you and breaks the kiss to look you in the eye.

“You ok?” Barba asks you softly, running a hand through your hair.

Dissatisfied with being away from his lips, you seek him out again and he indulges you for a moment before pulling back slightly.

“What’s wrong?” he persists, cupping the back of your head to make sure you can’t look away from him.

And that is really the problem with you, isn’t it? His intensity, his sincerity, his honesty –he makes you feel naked, like your soul has been bared to him, including all the indents that the ugliness of your cynicism and mistrust have made in it with ruthless picks and chisels.

“You’re not a complete asshole,” you whisper, rendering your verdict, feeling vulnerable and small in his embrace, “and I’m not sure I know what to do.”

Barba hums, leisurely stroking your back reassuringly. “When did you come to the conclusion that I wasn’t a complete asshole?”

In your mind’s eye, you replayed the end of that hellish dinner during which you both had tried to out-suave each other to death. “At the restaurant, when I brought up the incongruity between your stance against the principles of misogyny and your presence in the Trump Tower, and you had that look on your face, that’s when I realized…”

You trail off, distracted by the swirl of his tongue against the biphasic throbbing of your jugular.

“… that’s when I realized that you had voluntarily put yourself, and I, in the Trump Tower, not because your presence within was coherent with your political interests, but because you wanted me to make me uncomfortable.”

His hand stills between your scapulae.

“It made me so mad, when I realized that you played me. And that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To have your women all riled up?” And you were halfway to getting riled up again just remembering how offended and outraged you had felt.

“That was a joke,” Barba half-apologized, half-explained, bending his neck to catch your eye.

You narrow your eyes at him, cheeks bright. “Then why –why the hell did you do that to me, and then –and then look at me like that, and then make me look at you while I–” you pause, biting your already mangled lip, flustered.

Rafael Barba smiles haltingly, slyly, mischievously, not unlike the blades of sunlight playing hide and seek, inadvertently piercing through swirls of tumulus clouds in their carelessness –and your breath hitches at the sight of him, sporting that smile, threatening you with traumatic pneumothorax.

“I wanted to make you very uncomfortable,” Barba murmurs, affectionately extricating your poor bottom lip from the grasp of your teeth with his thumb, “because you struck me as a woman of many faces. And when people are uncomfortable, they let their guard down. They can’t hide behind a façade.”

He glides his index down the bridge of your nose, drawing back the crumbled remnants of your resistance. Your heart lurches, acknowledging that no one has ever exposed you so completely, and knowing that no one will ever do so, after him.

Forehead to forehead, you stare at each other, all your cards laid down. There are no aces left up either of your sleeves, no defensive strategy left in either of your tactical minds.

Match point.

“I’m not like most people.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “That’s why it took the Trump Tower to find you.”

Your throat squeezes shut. “You went through all this trouble for –on our first date?”

Rafael Barba’s eyes are kind, and green, and limpid. “I was not only looking for the silly woman from the hospital cafeteria, who ended up dripping in coffee because she couldn’t look away from me.”

“Not only?” Is this what angina pectoris felt like?

“I saw you on the 6th floor, before we met in the cafeteria. You were fighting tooth and nail to get your patient on a clinical trial, but you were dismissed before you ever finished your arguments. And that flare of righteous anger. I was looking for that woman too, in the Trump Tower.”

This is exactly what angina pectoris felt like.

“Did you find her?” You ask shakily.

“I’m looking at her.”

(img credit x)

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #rafael barba x oc #law and order svu #grey's anatomy #crossover fic #rafael barba x you #you are a surgeon in this #and grey's is set in nyc because reasons #grey's characters appearances: yang grey and shepherd #ok this is so fucking long #it took me so fucking long #but here it is #christine writes shites #long ass shites that take a long ass time #but it's worth it i swear

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musclelover4826 · 2 years

Note

How about an agency that specializes in turning guys who were ment to be country boys or jocks but didn't end up that way because various things into what they were always supposed to be

Bryan was an up and coming banker. At least that was the ambition. He had gone to college for finance, graduated and got a job at a bank corporate office. He had grown up in a small suburb but for school and now work had moved to the city. Sure the lights and the noise never stopped, the rent was more than half his pay for a small apartment and there was never a square inch of personal space with how many people there were. But he had room to grow. Get higher in the company and get higher pay. He was happy with his life as it turned out. Hard to believe it almost didn't end up that way. He had been adopted by his parents. He didn't know a damn thing about his birth parents and frankly had no interest. Regardless of their reason they didn't want him so why should he go out of his way to go on some soul search and hunt them down. They could research and find him if they were so inclined. Why is it the adoptive parents are never the ones who go on a 10 year search to find their child? He didn't need to know where he came from because he knows who he is. A professional from a upper middle class family and setting himself up to be a big shot. He could imagine all kinds of scenarios for hid birth family. It could be tragic, a family that wanted whats best for him. Or it could be some poor teen woman in a low income family found herself pregnant at 16 and couldn't afford or couldn't be bothered to raise her son. He spent his childhood wondering before at 17 he finally decided it didn't matter. The people who raised him were his parents and that was that.

Everything ended up the way it was meant to.

Or so he thought. One day while walking the 2 blocks from his apartment building to the bus stop, a woman in a buisness suit walked up to him.

She hardly stood out from the sea of other similarly dressed professionals on their way to work. What stood out was when she walked up in front of him and stopped "Bryan Wentworth?" She asked. He was annoyed, she might make him miss his bus.

"Yes thats me" he said and she nodded pulling out a badge. Was she a police officer? FBI? Well let her be, he hadn't done anything illegal. But the badge was for a agency that he didn't recognize. She identified herself as well

"Agent Wendy Markson, LCA" she said

"LCA?" Bryan asked

"Life Correction Agency" she said without missing a beat, as if she was regularly asked that question. Was this a joke? Well it wasn't funny he was going to be late.

"There's no such group, I need to catch my bus to work" he said but she kept stepping in front of him as he tried to walk by.

"Birthname Buckley Ruth, date of birth August 9th 1994, birthplace Westfield, Georgia" she said looking at a small note book. The date was right, his parents had known that, the rest was random. He had grown up in New Jersey and of course now lived in NYC. she looked at him blankly. "Glad I have your attention, our agency's job is to correct peoples lives, sometimes they end up different than whats meant to be" she explained as if this was normal.

"Well my life is fine so please let me get to work" he said trying to get past her as she stepped in front again and this time she snapped her fingers and suddenly he felt strange. His feet felt cold all of a sudden as he looked down to see his black dress shoes and grey dress socks had vanished. His feet bare against the pavement but oddly enough the roughness of the sidewalk didnt seem to bother them any. He looked up at her as she snapped again and he felt the breeze on his chest. What the fuck? His suit jacket, white dress shirt, and tie were all gone! He was shirtless and bare foot in the middle of the sidewalk.

"What are you?" He asked as he looked at him, not seeming amused or cocky, looking annoyed if anything.

"Its not a government agency if thats what you mean, my employer is a bit less conventional" she snapped again and his black dress pants had turned into a pair of blue jeans, slightly ripped at the knee and stained. There was a belt as well with a huge confederate flag buckle. His boxer breifs had also changed and although he couldn't see them he could tell they were boxer shorts now. He looks at her again but before he can say anything she snaps again and they weren't on the city streets anymore but now standing a small bathroom of a old trailer. The noise of the city gone as Bryan panicked looking in the mirror as he sees a cap on his head, his hair that he kept relatively short but neat was now buzz cut. Another snap and his face shifts, getting younger but harder, more angular and manly, with a chin strap beard. His skin tanned as his chest swells into firm pecs and his stomach became hard abs. His arms were strong with big biceps. Though it seemed more like what came from hard manual labor than a gym membership. A tattoo appearing on his chest.

"What the god damn hell did yall do ta me!" He shouted covering his mouth. His voice had a thick southern accent and he sounded so uneducated. That was aweful grammar! "I sound like some white trash hick!" He said and Wendy looked at her notebook, disinterested.

"Well yes, you were never meant to be adopted, you were meant to stay in Georgia and grow up as a redneck, you were never supposed to have the opperrunity to educate yourself" she said cooly. "So in this reality your pops decided to man up and stay with your ma, they kept you and you grew up low income in a trailer, you worked mowing lawns starting at 9, then at a gas station starting at 16, after high school which you somehow managed to pass you moved out and got a job as a farmhand. Very kind of them to let you have your own trailer on their property" she said. "Lets see you played football all through high school, had sex for the first time at 14, oh my even sex with a few teachers, well thats probably how you passed isn't it Buck?" He wanted to scream, tell her to shut up but as she said each thing that memoey clicked into place. He was forgetting his previous life, losing IQ rapidly and started to grin and flex in the mirror.

"What about my parents?" He asked and Wendy lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh well you were never up for adoption so they adopted someone else, in the previous timeline he grew up as a gang member but was meant to be a professional banker so we actually corrected two lives for the price of one in this case" Buck wanted to yell at her more but his language was turning crass, his vocabulary shrinking.

"Fuck you ya bitch!" Was all he managed. "Yeah? You want to fuck me?" She smirked, seeming to enjoy this for the first time. Is that what he wanted? She was hot. He felt his dick stirring in his pants, wasn't he asexual before? Too focused on his career to bother with relationships? Naw he fucked all the time and he fucked good.

"Yer pretty hot" he said as the light in his eyes dimmed.

"I think I can put a wrap on this case now." She said writing something down then snapped one more time, vanishing. A few seconds later Buck forgot she had ever been there and grinned. He was sweaty. He left the bathroom and grapped a beer sitting down on his couch and flicking on the old tv. It was always nice to chill after a long days work on the farm. Yup he was horny, happy, and dumb. A few beers from now and he'll be drunk too! Haha! Life was perfect.

Everything ended up the way it was meant to.

Author's note: there were two requests that were very similar about correcting a persons life so I mixed them for this.

#dumber #redneck #my stories #reality change #reality shift #nerd to redneck #redneck tf #Life Correction Agency #request

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lindsayrises · 2 years

Photo

January 1st, 2022 (picture explanations are at the end)

The days leading up to this New Years have been different than previous years. Different in a good way.

I’ve done a lot less dreaming and planning...

I haven’t set any resolutions or goals. For as long as I can remember, my resolutions and goals were all about my weight, food, exercise, and how I’d reward myself for losing weight.

Lately? The number on the scale hasn’t been my focus (obsession). I did weigh myself on Wednesday morning, but only because all of my pants are falling off of me so I wanted to see if I had lost weight. I had not. But that’s ok.

But before Wednesday? I don’t remember the last time I weighed myself at home. In fact, it took me a few minutes to even find my scale. It used to be in my bedroom. I would weigh myself every morning. I let the number on the scale dictate so much of my life. For months it’s been in my basement.

...and a lot more reflecting and appreciating.

I would guess that from 2013-last year, all of the reflecting I would do at the end of the year would be painful. Judgmental. Critical. Full of regret and “what if?” I would compare pictures from Christmas, 2012, to current pictures. All I could see was failure. It made me sad. And then I’d turn to, “Ok, how can I get back to this weight?” and start making unrealistic plans regarding food, exercise, and rewards.

The reflecting I’ve been doing the past few days have been on appreciation - for what and who I have in my life - and for my life in general...that I’M STILL FUCKING HERE.

Yesterday was a really good day (for a few reasons). There was a moment yesterday morning when I realized how lucky I am to have so many wonderful people in my life who truly love me and care about me - NO MATTER WHAT I WEIGH OR WHAT I LOOK LIKE. It nearly brought me to tears. For a long time I’ve thought (and truly believed), “How can anyone love me? Why do people even care about me?” I think this belief is slowly starting to change.

I am so thankful for this little blog. I have met incredible people and had incredible experiences I wouldn’t have had if it weren’t for Tumblr.

Other years I would put so much emphasis on doing the “right” things (whatever the fuck "right” means) on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day to have such a great start to the new year...so that it would set the tone for the rest of the year and would set me up for success (whatever the fuck “success” means).

This year? Nope. Yesterday I did whatever the fuck I wanted. I didn’t get everything done that I wanted to. But it didn’t bother me. In the past it would have been a string of thoughts like, “Ugh! You never plan things right! You have horrible sense of time! You should have gotten up earlier! Now you need to replan the rest of the day! You, and everything about you, is a failure and a mistake.

I spent the end of 2015/beginning of 2016 in NYC. I thought, “This is such a magical place to be on the first day of a new year. This is going to be my year!” Then, on January 1st, 2016, I ate a cupcake for breakfast. I acutely remember feeling so ashamed by that choice - so disappointed. In my mind, it was as if I had already failed for the WHOLE YEAR because of ONE CUPCAKE. I know that doesn’t rationally make sense. Thank you, all-or-nothing thinking.

This morning? I had cold pizza for breakfast. And guess what? My world didn’t come crashing down around me. I don’t feel like I fucked up the entire upcoming year.

I've still been thinking about New York a lot. I’m still 99% sure I’m going to cancel my March trip. Some of my all-time favorite memories and experiences are from New York. Two of my most favorite, special New Year's Eves were spent there.

1st Picture: On December 28, 2015, I bought this candle (Grey Amber) from the Papyrus shop at Grand Central. I loved the scent and I thought it was soooo pretty when lit. The next day, I went to three different Papyrus stores to find more of these candles. I think I came home with 4 of these candles. I rarely light them. I don’t want to waste them. I want them to last forever.

2nd Picture: Of those 4 candles, there was one that I had never lit. I wasn’t saving it for any certain occasion. I just didn’t want to burn the last one.

This morning? I said fuck it. This candle, while smelling lovely and in such a pretty container, doesn’t hold any magical powers. I can live without this candle once it’s burned down. For a long time, I’ve placed such hope into THINGS, OTHER PEOPLE, EXPERIENCES - as if it/they/them would magically help turn my life around. I don’t need a candle, journal, book, podcast, coach, trip to create a better life. The magic and the power is within me. I have everything I need inside me.

That picture of me you see? It is one of my favorite pictures from when I was little. I keep it out to remind myself to treat myself the way I would treat a 4-year-old me. I see a spark in those eyes, life in that smile. It’s what I see in my mind when I read/hear “Who were you before the world told you who to be?”

3rd Picture: New York Stock Exchange tree (Dec, 2018). You can see the Fearless Girl in front of the tree.

4th Picture: The Fearless Girl.

5th Picture: What I see for my future...Becoming the leading lady of my own life.

I’m not going to call these resolutions, but reminders:

Talk less, listen more.

Judge less, love more.

Fear less, live more.

I hope 2022 is everything you want and need it to be.

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gunnhildrr · 3 years

Text

Just thought of such a great, yet horrible way for a Buddie confession. Okay, so don’t hate me, but here’s the episode/fic idea:

The episode opens with Buck bloodied and lying on the ground in the middle of the road. There are muffled voices and shadows dancing around him. A car alarm blaring in the background. He just stares up at the audience. His voice comes over to narrate something Grey’s Anatomy style about wishes, love, death, and missed moments.

Cut to black.

Earlier. Buck wakes up in the same kind of position in his loft bed, eyes looking through the screen. It’s bright and sunny and he hops out of bed to make breakfast. He’s got a shift today and he needs to run some errands for this big dinner he planned for tonight. Today’s the day he’s gonna tell Eddie he loves him.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s prepping Chris for school with Carla and they discuss his dinner with Buck and how he feels awkward he hasn’t told him that he and Ana are moving in together. Carla is *shook* - and knowing Buck and Eddie finally speaks her mind: “are you sure you’re doing this for the right reasons?” Eddie’s confused and tries to say something when Carla interrupts and says “don’t lie to me, I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing our Buckaroo lately; and Chris tells me you’ve been spending more time thinking about him than pretty Miss Flores.” Eddie goes all red and tries to make excuses, but Carla’s not having any of it. Finally, he says, “I can’t. Buck’s too important to me and besides, he’s got Taylor.”

Little does he know, Taylor’s long gone to NYC for a new job as a reporter for NBC.

Buck’s walking out of Whole Foods with bags of new ingredients he and Bobby have been working through in their quest to explore the culinary world. Buck crosses the street and BAM! A crash - cut to black.

It’s 12:32pm and Buck still hasn’t shown up for his shift. Bobby, Hen, Chim, and Eddie are starting to get worried. But their concerns are interrupted by the alarm. A vehicle accident plowing through a crowd of pedestrians on Lasalle (just made that up lol). Eddie shudders, a sudden wave of worry washing over him.

Now, it’s back to the opening scene. Buck can’t move - it hurts all over, he just stares helpless at the audience as blood seeps through his clothes and mouth. Whimpering.

The 118 pull up to the scene and they check on the driver. This woman is distraught - “I didn’t seem him coming! I didn’t see him coming!” Eddie shivers… he’s hit with deja vu. He gets her checked and proceeds to the epicenter of the commotion, presumably the person who was hit.

Chim and Hen are bent down by a blonde man. Eddie rushes over but is stopped by Bobby. Eddie’s confused - why can’t he help? “You can’t do this. You’re too close to this.” Bobby mutters.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach. He uses his strength to push Bobby aside and pushes past the crowd to see Chim and Hen crouching by Buck’s side, body broken, skin pale and bloody, body angled in the same way Shannon’s was in her last moments.

Eddie’s world slows. Every emotion he felt then, he felt now. Maybe even worse the second time around. Bobby tries to pull him back, but he doesn’t relent. He crouches down next to Chim as he puts a neck brace on Buck. Buck, slowly looks at Eddie, whispers “E- Eddie… you-you’re here” through the severe pain he feels in his chest, with a pained smile and tears flowing down his face. “Looks like m-my luck finally ran out this time,” he says effortfully.

Eddie tries his best to keep it together. “You’re gonna be fine, Buck. You’re gonna be fine.” He turns on medic mode and tries to help Hen and Chim finish up their check. Hen and Chin exchange a solemn look and shake their heads as they begin changing their course of treatment, trying anything to keep Buck alive. Eddie follows along as he tries to keep Buck talking. They get to a point where they just have to hoist Buck on to a gurney and transport - he’s losing time.

Chim gets into the front of the ambulence, while Hen and Eddie get into the back. Hen’s getting the monitors set up and all the tubes and wires placed onto Buck’s body. “Eddie…” Hen looks over to him with watery eyes.

“Wha- what are- why aren’t you doing anything?” Eddie exclaims.

“When I put this tube in… there’s a good chance it may not come back out.” Suddenly, Eddie’s breathless. These are almost the exact words she said to him when it was Shannon.

He turns to Buck. “Eddie, listen to her. We- we don’t have much time left.” Buck is weakly holding on to Eddie’s wrist.

“No, Buck. Don’t say that. Stop it. You’re going to be fine.” He can feel his voice shaking.

“I- I don’t feel anything anymore,” Buck explains. “Eddie, I- I have something to tell you.”

Eddie can’t stop the tears flowing from his eyes now. “Save it for later, when you’re in your hospital bed, awake.”

“I- I’m not sure if I’m gonna make it. Eddie, I- I love you.”

Eddie’s heart explodes.

“Eddie, I’ve been in love with you for- for so long. That’s what I was gonna tell you tonight.”

“But, what about Tay-“

“She’s gone. New York. New job. Look- It took me so long to figure this out, but- but it’s you. It’s always been you and Chris.”

“God, Chris.” Eddie’s tears flow more fiercely. “You can’t do this, Buck. You can’t do this! He- I- we will never forgive you for this.”

“I- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Buck cries weakly. “All I ever wanted was to be a part of your family.”

“You are! You always were. Come on. You’re in my will for gods sake. I LOVE YOU TOO!”

Buck smiles and reaches for Eddie’s face. Eddie grabs his hand and kisses it. He leans and kisses him. “I love you too, okay? I love you too. So, fight. I put you in my will because you are a fighter, now fight it, damn it! Whatever light you’re seeing, whatever’s calling for you, fight it, Evan!”

There’s so much emotion in his voice, so unlike himself. Buck laughs, seeing the love of his life finally being honest with his feelings. “I love you…” his voice fades on the last word as the monitor starts to flatline.

“No! No! Buck, wake up! Wake up!” Eddie pleads. Hen pushes him out of the way and intubates him. It’s no use, as the monitor is still flat, the long beep signaling no heartbeat ringing through the ambulance. Hen moves to compressions. It doesn’t work. Eddie pulls himself together. He grabs the paddles and yells “charge!” and shocks Buck. His heart comes back momentarily, but then flatlines again. He keeps going.

“Eddie- I” Hen says, crying.

“No! I know he wouldn’t stop fighting for me, for us. So I’m not stopping for him.”

Eddie alternates between compressions and the paddles. They finally arrive at the hospital. The back doors open as he’s mid-compressions. “Male, 29, multiple traumas - he was hit by a car.”

The doctor looks at the monitor: “how long has he been down?”

“Approximately 5 minutes.” Hen replies.

A brief pause. Then “Call it.”

“What?” Eddie yells. “No, stop. What are you doing.”

The doctor holds his hands up and gets closer. “I’m sorry, he’s been down for too long, I’m afraid- I’m afraid he’s-“

Eddie cuts him off. “He’s not! He’s not gone. Come on, Buck, wake up. Come on, Evan!”

He can feel Hen’s arms reach to pull him away. Suddenly, the heart monitor picks back up. It starts slowly, then gradually get’s stronger.

“He’s back!”

“Alright, let’s get him to OR 2! Stat!”

The doctors grab the gurney and rush off.

The last scene leaves Eddie with Buck’s blood over him, standing alone looking through the ER doors as they shut in front of him. Cut to black.

#911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #henrietta wilson #chimney han #bobby nash #fic ideas #episode idea #buddie #buddie fic #someone please write this #@911 writers wanna steal my idea?#please write the fic #and tag me #i wanna experience it and cry

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bookofmirth · 3 years

Note

Can you please elaborate why it is considered problematic that SJM wrote that elain is uncomfortable around lucien? You mentioned in a previous response that it was not a good move for her to write elain being uncomfortable by a disabled POC but I’m not quite sure why that is a problem because she is not uncomfortable because of his disability or race- her discomfort has nothing to do with that.

Also, racism is not an issue in prythian the way it is in real life. You have high lords such as helion and tarquin (among others) that are explicitly POC and there has never been mention of any hostility towards them because of the color of their skin. The only discrimination I can recall is between high and lesser fae which is classist not racist.

I’m just confused why it is considered ableist or racist when SJM decided to write how elain is uncomfortable around lucien when it has nothing to do with his skin color or disability.

On another note- would it have been racist if amarantha (a known rapist) was written as a WOC rather than white? I’m just trying to understand your point of view and I’m a little lost. To me, acotar is a diverse world with characters of all races and some are good, some are evil but pretty much every character has done something morally grey at at least one point in the series. And none of that is not specific to one race vs another. There are white characters that are good, morally grey and downright evil. And the same can be said for other races.

I appreciate any further elaboration you can supply!

Hello! I will try my best. I don't mind answering questions like this! I recognize that I have had a lot of education about these topics and I have learned A Lot from Black women on Twitter over the years. I hope to share it in a way that is useful. I can maybe make a reading list if anyone is interested, but people should definitely ask around so that it's not getting filtered through just one person (aka me).

So the whole thing with talking about race in the fandom is that race does not function the same way in the acotar world as it does in ours. You are correct about that. You may have seen my post that attempted to break down various ways that characters access privilege in Prythian? Either way, yes. It is not a one-to-one correspondence with our world and the book world.

However, there are issues within the acotar world that mirror issues in ours, and the way that fans engage with those issues can reveal underlying prejudices. I mentioned in this post that we don't have to intend to do these things. (Also, intent versus impact is like diversity, inclusivity, and equity training 101. It's one of the first, and most important things you will learn. Even if you didn't mean to harm someone, they still feel hurt, and it's important to acknowledge that.)

The issue with the way people talk about Lucien - and I mentioned in another post that this is perhaps just as much on Sarah for creating this scenario as it is on the fandom for hopping on that horse and riding - is that there is a history of white women being painted as the victims of Black men specifically.

I'm going to put the rest of this under the cut because I want to show you some examples.

I hope that I don't have to explain why this is disgusting. There is a real-life example of this ^^^ if you google Emmett Till and read his story. This is by far not the only example of a white woman claiming that a Black man (or boy, in his case) was harassing her in some way, and often, that has resulted in lynching.

These are clearly older examples, and also really good examples of how people of color can be dehumanized, but these problems persist. The methods are just more subtle. More recently, it could result in police brutality. When that women called the police on a Black man in NYC last summer, it played into the long history of a woman claiming that she was being threatened or victimized by a Black man. As @gimme-mor explained in her post, the concept of white womanhood is often used as a way to uphold racism and white supremacy because it shows people of color as being violent threats, giving white men (and white women) a reason to retain their privilege.

You're probably wondering now what the fuckity fuck this has to do with Acotar and Lucien. I am getting there!

Because of this historical context, there are many slurs and stereotypes used against POC that on the surface, seem innocent. However, they have a deep, dark history of oppression and violence. It's not about the "one time" that someone said one racist thing, but generational trauma. I can't speak to what this is like as a lived experience, and so I would really appreciate anyone who does want to add on!!!

For example, just to take us away from acotar for a minute, there is a problematic, sexist and often racist trope in which characters get fridged. This is a term used to refer to the way that women, women of color, or characters of color (this could include queer and disabled people as well) are killed off to further a white person's story. This happens SO OFTEN. Nehemia was killed in ToG to motivate Aelin. Sorscha was killed in HoF to hurt Dorian. In a multitude of super hero and action movies, the wife or girlfriend of the main character is killed off in order to provide either pain or motivation to the white male hero.

Individually, these events are whatever. Taken as a whole, though... it shows a trend that the girlfriend of the hero is disposable. It shows that people who are not white, straight, able-bodied males are worthless, and only function to further someone else’s plot.

So that's what is sort-of happening here. After a long, long history of white women positioning themselves (or being positioned) as the innocent victims of brutish, violent, barely-even-human men of color, there are some disturbing parallels when people try to say that Elain is a shrinking violet next to Lucien's insistent attentions.

The context is everything. It's not about this one event, but that there is a history in the real world of this trope playing out over and over, and it has even been an explicit tactic used to perpetuate white supremacy.

This context influences the way that we interact with one another in fandom. The point of that post was not to critique the acotar series itself, but to expose some problematic aspects of the fandom.

I am not going to speak for anyone else, but I think that the original intent of pointing out this parallel between Elain/Lucien and white feminism was not that we want people to stop saying that Elain feels this, or Elain feels that, or Lucien is doing this or that, etc. The reason why this has been mentioned in the past is because there are some very uncomfortable, violent historical precedents set, and while people may not realize that those exist, they may be unintentionally furthering that stereotype.

There were many, many other points made in that post that I think bear repeating and further attention. I hope that this made sense. It's hard to condense literal centuries of racism like this, and of course I am only talking about the context in the U.S. I'm sure it's different elsewhere.

The main takeaway from that post, though, is that it wasn't about the world itself. It was about the way that the fandom engages with the world, and how they utilize some problematic tools to do so. Critiquing the world itself is a completely different issue, which... I will sorta touch on now!

One last point, since you brought up Amarantha and the potential of her being a WOC and a rapist - it could be viewed as problematic and racist, due to the oversexualization of Black women in particular (again, the context throughout history supports this). However, that would not be a fandom problem! That would be an sjm problem.

BTW - I do have serious problems with the way that Illyrians are portrayed in acotar, again because of the history of POC being portrayed as uncivilized, brutish, violent, and... that word that means someone isn't religious. I am getting tired and forgot the word. When sjm says that Illyrians are that way, and when she emphasizes the fact that they are a race... yikes. It's not racist of us to point that out, but it was highly questionable that she created them to be that way in the first place.

Let me know if any of this doesn't make sense, please! To anyone reading this to the end, first off RIP! But also let me know if I've gotten something wrong or if you see something differently.

#acotar #acosf #acotar fandom #cw racism #cw racist images #ask #anon

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hwrryscherry · 3 years

Text

The one where Harry and Model Y/N miss their christmas flight and have a little fun on their detour.

blurb: It's the most wonderful time of the year so Harry & Model Y/ N rented a holiday house on the French Alps to celebrate Christmas with their families. It's finally the day to go and Harry is the one to blame when they lose their flight to meet their families in the Alps. Spoiler: Model Y/N gets furious at Harry's calm behavior.

warnings: fluff. They left Los Angeles on December 20th and arrived in the Alps on December 21st in case you guyst get confused.

word count: 7.1K

author's note: HIIIIIII guyyys! It's officially CHRISTMAS week and it's my favorite holiday ever sooo I imagined what Model Y/N and Harry would do on their holiday trip and I guess I'll post a blurb everyday with Christmas theme. AND i'll be suggesting a christmas song in every blurb. Enjoy and Merry Christmas♥️♥️♥️♥️

christmas song of the day: Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande.

December 19th, 2020 - 11PM

It was a very cold night in Los Angeles for you to be walking around in your pajamas with no shoes on, a face mask on your face and wet hair that left small water drops through the closet floor as you continued to walk between your clothes and your suitcase that was settled in the floor. You wanted to be laid down in bed, in your cozy and warm bed because you were so tired and a good night of sleep were everything you actually desired.

As you tried to decide on the coats that you were going to take to your Christmas holiday in the French Alps. You felt a gaze directed to you, what made you bring your head up so you could see Harry stopped at the door frame. He looked very calm. Otherwise, you looked desperate; your flight was scheduled to 6:45 AM. You had to sleep as it was already late and you haven't even packed your stuff but at least you could do it with just some minutes unlike Harry. Anyway, Harry had his grey sweatpants on with a TPKW merch hoddie, his hair, unlike yours, was already completely dry. You probably have to stop washing your hair so late at night but now wasn't the moment to think about this.

— God, why didn't I pack earlier? — You asked rhetorically as you sighed taking some of your favorite pants and folding them right before putting them in the suitcase.

— Exactly! I told ya to do it earlier today but you said you still had time. — Harry said on a convincing way as he drank a sip of his water that he held in a bottle. You just rolled your eyes at him. You hated being stressed and you hated even more when you were stressing over something and Harry says something like "I told you so." You hate conflict and specially when it's with Harry and now was definitely not the moment, so you just shrugged it off.

— By the way, which suitcase are you taking? Because I found yours up in the shelf. — You said, never taking your eyes away from the clothes you were putting on the floor as you created combinations and outfits for you to have an idea before putting it in the suitcase; you were on your knees as you decided to which clothes you'd take with you.

Harry went completely silent at the moment he heard you. This was the time he realized that with all the things you both were setting up for the trip today, he completely forgot of packing his stuff. Harry froze, he felt it through all his body. He knew how much you were stressed over all the things you both did today to get prepared for the trip, and he'd swear to god that you'd completely lost it at the moment he'd tell you he forgot about it.

You looked over at him because of his silence and his expression said everything his mouth didn't. You stopped moving your hands immediately and kept a straight face at him literally praying he was only joking, but he wasn't.

— Are you for real? — You'd ask resting your hands over your thighs as you only received silence as a response — Harry, I can't believe you! — You'd say sounding extremely frustrated. You'd pass your hands over your face trying to wake you up more because truly, you were so sleepy right now. You'd feel your cold hands pass through your wet strands of hair before looking at him getting more into the closet now.

— Love, I'm so sorry! — Harry'd say entering the room and bend down next to you avoiding touching your clothes on the floor — It's just... I went all the way today resolving all the other stuff for the trip and I completely forgot about it! — Harry would say with puppy eyes, he actually felt kinda ashamed for just saying to you that he told you to pack before when he didn't even remembered to do it himself.

— I know, I know — You said getting more relaxed on the floor now crossing your legs — It's just, you take so long to do it everytime and we need to grab some sleep tonight — You'd say making an emphasis on the "so long" making Harry sigh. He instantly stand up after you finished talking, walking directly towards the shelf to grab his own suitcase putting it on the floor as he opened it too.

— No, I won't take too much time! I'll just grab some stuff. I'll show you and you tell me what you think! — Harry said as he opened his part of the closet immediately looking through the pants, the many pants he had actually — It's okay! — He'd say, probably trying to convince himself more than actually you. You have no idea why but whenever Harry had to pack his suitcase he'd take hours to do it, he would just take hours to decide on each outfit and then he'd decide when to wear it and if he was actually going to wear it, so yes, it would literally take hours.

Later, Harry'd think about it all while he contemplated you from the bed. He was lying on his side, propping his head on his hand, so he could get a more proper look at you.

It took both of you two hours to pack Harry’s suitcase and it was around 1AM now. You don’t think he knows what ‘'It’ll be fast’’ actually means. You were now in front of the mirror. You used the comb to brush your now dry hair while looking in the mirror. You have had long nights at work before and you've been very tired several times but this time, it felt different.

This is the first time that you and Harry have decided what to do for Christmas and thank God there would be no hosting; but even so it's difficult to organize things for so many people. Harry has been so helpful, and you can't complain. Even though he was tired of being on set, he always donated his time to talk about Christmas, but how could he avoid it? He loved it. He loved being able to get together with his family and spend a good and happy time. Harry remembers the first Christmas you spent together. It was 2018 and you guys went to Holmes Chapel to celebrate. That was also the first Christmas of your life where you wouldn't spend it with your mother because, well, you didn't want to abuse it and take her to Anne's house. Harry realized how sad it had made you and surprised you on Christmas Eve afternoon when he came home from an alleged "supermarket drive" with your mother. He remembers how happy you were, your genuine smile that you just couldn't get off your face, and he remembers how much he fell ten times more in love with you that day. There was not even a year that you were together, god, as time flies.

You have finished brushing your hair and put the comb in the first drawer of the counter. You left the bathroom to walk to your bed feeling Harry's gaze on you making you frown and smile at him as you lay on the bed covering yourself with the covers.

— Why are you looking at me like this? — You ask taking the covers up to your neck while turning to be able to face the boy's face, who was now accompanied by a tender smile.

— Nothing much, just memories! — Harry said as he watched the yellow light from his lamp reflect in your eyes —You're so beautiful it makes me angry sometimes. — Harry said pulling a chuckle from you. God, how he loved that sound. He then extended his arm to turn off the lamp leaving the room in total darkness, then going deeper under the covers as well.

— Oh, you're just saying that! — You responded by making him chuckled now with your fake modest — You set the alarm clock, right? — You asked him softly, trying your best to keep your eyes open even though they insisted on wanting to close.

— I did! — Harry said approaching you, feeling your body heat under the covers. He brought his right hand to your waist and pulled you closer to his chest, taking the opportunity to kiss your temple. — Let's sleep now okay? I love you! — Harry said feeling you nod and whisper a soft '' I love you too ''. It was a combination of you to say you love each other every night before going to sleep; you did it even when you fought, but in these cases I love you's usually came with "but I'm really mad at you."

December 20th, 2020 — 6:00 AM.

You were in such a deep sleep, you two were. The truth is: this instability was not your thing. At one day you were in London, the next in NYC, the next in LA, then in Palm Springs and now back in Los Angeles, the hard part would believe you wouldn't be tired of it. And it's precisely because of tiredness that neither you nor Harry heard the four times that the alarm went off, but let's agree that having gone to sleep after one in the morning packing Harry's suitcase was a big factor to consider.

5:00 AM, 5:20 AM, 5:30 AM, 5:45 AM... Nothing, you didn't even move, well, you did move to pull the covers next to you. For some reason your eyes slowly opened. You stared at the light coming from the curtains content with yourself for waking up even before the clock woke up, little did you know.

You stretched and took your hands to rub your sleepy eyes then using one of them to get your phone that was powering on the nightstand next to the bed. When you unlock the phone screen and face the hours, you felt your heart beat faster. You blinked briefly to see if you were seeing the right time and got out of bed in a heart beat.

— HARRY! — You said basically screaming. Harry woke up quickly, his heart racing as he sat on the bed and watched you standing, putting on your slippers quickly. He watched you take a hair tie from the drawer of your nightstand and quickly tie your long strands of hair into a ponytail.

— What...What happened? — Harry said using his hands to rub his eyes as he slowly got up from the bed.

— It's already six in the morning, the alarm didn't go off! — You said quickly what surprised Harry, since normally you spoke even slowly — Come on, get up! We have 45 minutes to get to the airport, and it's a 35 minute drive. We need to start getting ready quickly. — You walked directly to the bathroom counter, pouring liquid facial soap into your hands and washing your face. You couldn't see it, but you heard the noise of Harry changing clothes in the room. You absolutely hated leaving the house in the morning without taking a shower, but you wouldn't have any time for that.

You chose not to wear any makeup, as always in fact. You just put sunscreen on your face and loosened your ponytail feeling your long strands of hair fall over your shoulders as you retreated from the suite bathroom and spotted Harry wearing jeans and an oversized black sweatshirt walking past you to use the bathroom himself now. You opened your part of the wardrobe by grabbing yourself a black jan bell pants, a black t-shirt too and a pink sweatshirt over it in which you dressed up fastly, and put your white sneakers as well.

— Have you finished? — You said putting your cell phone, charger, wallet and other essentials in your handbag as you approached the bathroom door observing Harry dry his hands on the towel and then saying a brief "Yes" after putting on his rings on his fingers. He turned off the bathroom light and turned to you while the two of you started walking towards the stairs, where you went down with your suitcases in hand. The original plan was to call a car to take you to the airport but clearly, there was no time for that, so you guys would go in Harry's car, which would be picked up at the airport by Jeff who had promised Harry that he would take him back to the house.

The sun was still cold, that cold early morning sun where the sky still has that lilac color mixed with orange. You left your suitcase in front of the trunk and walked to the passenger seat next to the driver where you sat down and installed the belt instantly while Harry just put both suitcases in the trunk, then closed it and walked to the front of the car as well, and right after sitting in the driver's seat putting on the seat belt, he started the engine and starting to drive as well.

The drive to the airport was quiet. There was little traffic, nothing compared to LA traffic but there was still a little. Harry prayed it didn't have any fans at the airport, not because he didn't want to see them, but because you were so late and he knew that neither of you would ignore your fans and just keep walking. When Harry parked the car, you might notice some paparazzi's outside, nothing too crowded actually. In less than two minutes, you were already out of the car with your bags on a cart walking, let's say, very quickly until the airport check-in. You were a little impatient to see that there was a line of about five people before you. You looked at the time on your cell phone and sighed, turning the screen to Harry showing that it was now 6:47 AM and there were still three more people in front of you. You had a frustrated and worried look, just the thought that maybe you can't make it to your destination and Harry realized that, he always perceives the smallest things in and about you; let it be a different sigh to a different gleam in the eye. He perceives everything, even though you're wearing a mask now.

Harry wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tight and kissing your hairline as a form of affection. Your head was between Harry’s neck where you could perfectly smell his scent, and the comforting warmth he emanated; you could have sworn that nothing and no one could get you out of that moment, but then your turn came in line and a man called you.

— Good Morning ma'am! May I help you? — The man said trying to sound sympathetic. You were hoping that Harry could resolve this but apparently, the guy asked you and not him. You put a few strands of your hair behind your ears, and you formed the phrases in your head.

— Good Morning! — You said first, feeling Harry touching the ends of your hair behing your back — So, we had two tickets for the flight of 6:45 AM for Paris but, unfortunately we couldn’t make it in time. Is there any way that you could get us new tickets? Anything would be amazing! — You said, while mentally praying that there was at least one flight that would take you there. The plan was that you were going to make a scale in Paris and then taking the train to the French Alps which would be a 5-hour train ride, but as you were counting on a direct flight to Paris, it wouldn’t be a problem to stay on a train for five hours.

— Look, ma'am. — The guy sighed looking a little frustrated. Harry touched your shoulders and squeezed a little feeling how hard your shoulders muscle were from tension — I do have a flight for Paris! — In the moment he said it you and Harry let out a deep breath relieved — But, it's going to scale in New York and London!

— And how many hours of traveling? — Harry asked getting a little closer to the counter putting his glove covered hand over the counter as well.

— Around 18 or 20 hours — The man answered and you and Harry sighed. You would be there in the morning on the LA time, and on the French Alps time it will probably be 6:30 AM too. You let out a long breath, and Harry looked at you attentively looking for any sign of giving up; he wanted to go, of course, but if you said it would be better to stay, he would be without a second thought.

— Well, we have to go, right? — You said softly to Harry and then redirected your gaze to the man and nodded. — Okay, we’ll keep the tickets.

—They’re economic tickets, all right? I see here that you had executive tickets — The man asked and you can't hesitate to drop a light chuckle.

— No problems! — Harry replied, and then he returned to finishing to configure the informations of your new tickets.

It didn't really take long, a few minutes and you already had the new tickets in hand. As you both walked to find a place to sit, you remembered that with all the running from the morning none of you had breakfast. You checked your bags on the conveyor belt and went up the escalators at the big LAX Airport looking for a small restaurant to buy something. You chose the Urth Caffé & Bar because you were used to eating in there whenever you had to travel. It was a very cute and cozy place with a yellow lighting, wood tables and chairs that gave a whole charm to it. You both ordered a coffee; you ordered a latte and Harry ordered a black coffee, and to eat you both ordered bagels sandwiches. There were some fans in there this time. They were all pretty respectful and nice when they came over asking for pictures. You both took the pics and talked with them for a while until you had to leave which honestly made your heart aches. You loved when you could meet and talk to your fans, to create that connection it's so important to you but you couldn't risk missing another flight.

As you were already settled up on your seats, you re-checked your seat bell probably five times in a row while the "In case of emergency" video passed on the little screen in front of you. Harry noticed you checking it again, and he used his hands to hold yours as a sign to stop you.

— Hey, you already did that... — Harry said looking directly into your eyes — Five times, love!

— Oh... — You whispered then redirecting yourself on your seat. The truth is, you're a model, you date a singer and you're probably more in a plane than in your own house, but you are terrified of it. You've always been, just the thought of being on a plane scares you. And we don't even have to say about whenever a turbulence would occurs. Harry knew that, and he took it as a responsibility of his to keep you calm whenever you were on a plane together.

— Oh, let's watch something together! — Harry said getting his upper body closer to you looking at your little screen — We can choose the same thing and watch it!

— Sure, something on your mind? — You asked as you grabbed the ear plunges of the plane trying to turn it on as Harry now were turning his phone off.

— I don't know! Since we finished watching Bly Manor, I have no idea what we should watch next — Harry said putting his phone on his pocket, and then grabbing himself his ear plunge.

— Oh god, and how good was it? — You said having a fan girl moment. Literally, you were such a fan of The Haunting series and all about it. You and Harry binged watching The Haunting of Bly Manor in like a day. — But.. — You turned on your screen and started to look through the christmas movies, yes you also loved them. Both of you do, who doesn't like christmas movies? — Oh, let's watch Princess Switch 2? We didn't have time to watch it! — You clicked on the movie, so you could read the synopsis to have an idea what would be about. You and Harry watched the first one back in 2018 and you guys really liked it so this could be cool. It's actually kinda crazy all of the stuffs you've watched together. It's crazy how you guys can watch a really serious and heavy movie and then watch all of Barbies movies on the same day.

— Alright, let's watch it! — Harry agreed as he searched for the movie himself — I saw in the trailer that there's a third twin on this movie.

— Love, they're not twins!— You'd say getting your movie ready to be started.

— They're not? Of course they are! If they're not, then what are they? — Harry said putting his ear plunges on and getting the covers that the airplane company use to put on the seats for the passagers. You actually think it's cute that Harry has this thing on being under the covers and cuddled up whenever he was watching to a movie, and with the weather like this, it would be perfect. I mean, it's cold in LA with 46 F°, as you lived in NYC before you could only imagine how the weather was in there with 32F°. But anyway, you kinda missed NYC a little bit. It's honestly kinda messed up now because you haven't officially moved to LA from New York, but the last time you were in NY was probably in early May, before your birthday because you both celebrated your birthday in Holmes Chapel with Anne and Gemma.

— I don't know — You'd chuckle to answer his question feeling him spread the covers on both of you and snuggle himself on your chest — I think they're relatives in some point, but they're not twins! — You'd hear a soft "oh" from Harry as you put the ear plunges yourself and clicked the movie to play. In general, you watched the movie commenting on the scenes and you both really liked it, it was funny and not tiring at all. And then after it, you both bing watched The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, I know it seems crazy but you've been so obsessed with it lately and anytime you were obsessed with something you'd usually make Harry get obsessed too. And I mean, it was a 5-hour long flight and you both could catch up with some housewives drama. The flight ended, and you both arrived in NYC, you'd have a 1 hour and a half stop and you managed to think you both could actually do something in this hour, obviously nothing to far away from the airport, you wouldn't take any risks. So you'd chose one of your favorite places in New York ever aka the M&M's Store. God, you loved this place, and you loved M&M's, and so did Harry.

There were some paparazzi on the street, but this is NY and it's just a daily basis thing. You both walked around the store buying some really cool chocolates when you saw a cute one with marshmallows and you showed it to Harry getting a disgusted face from him.

— No, I'm so allergic to marshmallow! — Harry would say grabbing some kind of M&M's to see and you rolled your eyes recalling the number of times you both had this conversation before. You turned around getting right on Harry's front and looking into his eyes.

— You’re not allergic to mashmallows! You’re allergic to one of the ingredients in it, if you do the homemade one you can eat it normally, oh my god! — You said trying your best to show your sassy side and Harry actually only continue saying this because he knows you'll react like this and he think it's cute, so he'd just get closer to your face and give a peck to your lips.

— I know, sorry! — He'd say smirking a little and fixing his beanie on his head with his left hand — I love the ones you make, by the way.

— I know, I'm such a master chef that's how I made you fall in love with me! — You'd answer him with a smirk on your face when you turn around to look more over the chocolates.

— And who said I love ye’, miss? — Harry said mocking you and you’d immediately turn to stare at his face with the most realistic offended expression you could create now.

— Um, excuse me? — You’d say with your righthand touching your chest with raised eye browns — If that’s how you feel I'm just gonna go over there look for Brad Pitt! — You’d say with your sassy tone starting to walk away from him but you were stopped by him when he grabbed your empty hand bringing you closer to him

— Oh so you're overlapping me for Brad Pitt? — Harry said making you roll your eyes with a playful smile in your mask covered lips.

— Well, take it as a revenge for overlapping me for Mitch every day! — You'd say making him let out a loud laugh — But, I'll consider letting this go if we go to Victoria Secrets right now and you buy me my favorite fragrance!

— Oh, you're such a blackmailer! — Harry would say shaking his head slowly and crossing his arms close to his body watching you put your best puppy eyes on display — Alright, just because I probably love that fragrance more than you! — He said making you give him a big smile that he could notice by the way your eyes got smaller. This is actually a joke because it was pretty rare for having you ask Harry to buy you anything, you'd always tell him that you "didn't need anything", and specially when he comes home with those really expensive Gucci merch. Honestly, all the expensive things that you have, like, Chanel, Versace, Gucci were usually gifts from the brand and a few from Harry because you're much of a economizer thinking that these are actually pretty expensive things and you don't actually need. Why would you go around with a 3 thousand dollars Gucci bag when you can buy a super cute bag for 50 dollars? Yep, Harry didn't understand that on the many times he got you something expensive so then, now he rarely does it because he knows that the way for your heart it's probably the most simple and genuine he can be.

In the VS shop, you were looking through the fragrances for you favorite one that was Bare Vanilla, it's probably the best. And you've been using it for years now, literally since you were a teenager. When you finally found your Bare Vanilla Kit, you were actually surprised by Harry behind you holding a set of lingerie on the color of pearl with some baby blue lace details. You looked at it and then later at the lingerie and then at him again with a "what is that?" expression on your face.

— Love, I know ye' came here to buy the fragrance but this would look so good in you! — Harry said making a louder voice while pronouncing the "so good" making you touch the fabric with your hands in silence thinking about it as you looked, yes it was really pretty. What can you do? Your man does have a good taste. — Ok I'll buy it as your christmas gift! — You said taking the lingerie carefully from his hand.

— For me? I was thinking more of you in it, but I can wear it if you want. I bet it will define all of my sexy curves — Harry said putting a hand on his own waist making a pose making you laugh out loud of his words, it's the sass for me.

— No, oh my god! I'll be the present. This could be the gift paper — You'd say winking on an eye at him as you tried to control your laugh seeing the smirk on his face, this little promiscuous guy.

On your way back to the airport you noticed very similar words on a wall beside you and you couldn't hold your emotion when you saw it. It was a black wall written "Do You Know Who You Are?", as in Lights Up. When you showed Harry he got so smiley and blushed at the same time, it's just the shyness in him. You took a quick picture of it before actually entering the airport again. Right on time.

You were about to face another flight with a six hour and 40 minutes of duration and god, in this cold weather, with covers, hoddies, M&M's, movies and your love made everywhere feels cozy and warm. On this flight, you agreed to watch The Notebook with Harry, and you liked it very much, not as much as he did, but you liked it. You had taken your sneakers off staying with your socks only, you had also let your hair loose as you leaned your head on Harry's shoulder this time, fixing your covered legs under the cover and feeling the warm sensation coming from his body heat, it wasn't much until Harry realised that you were completely asleep when he tried to talk to you about how Ellie's mom had such an attitude when she decided to hide Noah's letter from Ellie all those years but instead, he saw your sleeping face on his shoulder and his heart melted at the vision so he just decided to let you sleep because he really thought you deserved to, and also, after the movie ended he did sleep as well.

Your flight arrived in London by 7:28 PM on Los Angeles time. By London's time it was already 5:28 AM, and it had a 44 F° weather. You had a smaller scale time this time. It was a 35 minutes scale, thank god. You both took your time to walk inside the airport. You loved London. You really did. You loved the weather and the beautiful places to visit in here, oh and the cute british accents, you loved it.

You both walked through the airport observing everything. The people, the christmas lights and the stores. Harry had one of his arms over your shoulders as you walked through it. As you entered the stores session, you'd spot World Duty Free store and look at Harry. — Let's go to World Duty Free and buy colorful highlighters so you can use it on christmas eve! — You say while stopped walking when you got in front of the referred store. Harry looked at the big illuminated sign with the store's name and then back at you.

— A colorful one? D' you think it'll look good? Maybe a gold one, no? — He said pushing you into the illuminated store. You loved that Harry knew this stuff and how sometimes when you'd have nothing to do he would let you put some makeup on his face because he knew you didn't like putting it on your face often.

— Yeah, a gold one would be better! I'll go find one, try looking for other stuff — You'd say getting out of his embrace and walking to the other corner of the store. You looked through the makeup wall in front of you as you searched for a gold highlight.

— Hello, may I help you? — A very young lady came to you with the store's uniform. You looked at her smiling tenderly and shook your head. — Oh no, thank you! I was just looking for a highlighter, but I already found it! — You said showing her the little package in your hand and she smiled back at you saying that if you needed anything else you could call her and you thanked. You would keep looking through the wall to see if you wanted anything else when you noticed a tall man coming over you. You looked at him because well, he was staring you.

— Hm... Hi, I'm Ryan! — He said shyly to you. You just stayed there looking at him with no moves — Hm, I just wanted to say that your American accent it's really cute and... Would you mind giving me your number? — He'd say nervously, and you let out a chuckle as you closed your eyes for a moment.

— I’m really flattered, but I’m here with my boyfriend, I’m sorry — You said softly as you could see Harry coming over to you guys with a very straight face. — There he is! — You pointed at Harry that quickened his pace a little when he saw you pointing at him.

— Oh, I apologize! Anyway, merry christmas! — He said with a tender smile as he walked away from you when you murmured a "Merry Christmas". Harry finally got to you and frowned his eyebrows a little looking at the guy’s back and then back at you.

— Who was it? — Harry softly asked containing his jealousy. Whenever Harry would say in interviews that he was an easily jealous person, he wasn’t joking. But he learned to contain it now because this was the biggest discussion maker on the beginning of your relationship.

— It was this guy Ryan trying to hit on me — You’d say with a smirk on your face because you knew this would tease him — He politely asked me for my number, and then I told him that I was here with my boyfriend.

—You should’ve told him you were here with your handsome and sexy boyfriend — Harry said with joking tone and you raised your eyebrows at him as you started to walk towards the cashier.

— No, I think just ''boyfriend'', is enough! — You’d say mocking him before you paid your bill. And walked back to the departuring space for Paris.

You confess that coming back to Paris made you a little nervous. The last time you were here was in February and it was quite...peculiar. But it would be just a scale and things would occur right.

The flight for Paris were definetely the the fastest one as it lasted only an hour and fifteen minutes. You both had dinner in the plane while binge watching The Real Housewives of Bervely Hills, a little obssesed maybe? Harry had already warned Anne about both of you being late as you all scheduled to get there maybe 6 or 7 hours ago, but as the iconic Queen of Genovia said once ‘’A queen is never late, anybody else is just earlier’’. Oh, you both could’ve watched The Princess Diaries today, damn it.

— As we’re here, we have to admit it... It was quite an adventure, wasn’t it? Three cities in a day — Harry would say taking the ends of your hair between his fingers.

— It was, but I kinda wished we had a little bit more of time in London so we could go to the London Eye — You’d say causing Harry to happily agree with you as it was one of his favorite attractions to go in London.

— All I know is that when we get in there I’ll sleep for as long as I can.

— How can ye’ be sleepy? You slept all the flight from New York to London and I know it! — You’d ask really curiously about his answer because it actually made you surprised on how easily he could sleep. He could be sitting on the most uncomfortable chair in the world but if he closes his eyes, he’ll easily fall asleep.

— It’s my natural talent! Did you think that I could only sing? — He asked rhetorically with a very convincin' tone.

— I’m sorry then Mr.Sleepy! — You would say mocking him as you turned your phone on to answer your missed texts. Gemma has already sent you tons of texts about the house and how’s the climate in there. She told you that you both better be all wrapped up or instead she’ll push your face, oh the good old family love.

When the plane landed, you and Harry grabbed your suitcases as fast as you could so you could get a cab to the train station and finally arrive on the Alps. You loved Paris in the winter. You loved Paris by the night, and that hasn’t changed. There weren’t paparazzi which contributed to keep you calm but there were maybe some fans spotting you guys and asking for pictures. They’d ask if you both were going to celebrate Christmas in Paris and you’d tell them that it’s just a scale. You were calm but Harry wasn’t. Since the prank in Paris from February, Harry has been incredibly more protective than he already was, and getting back in Paris actually remembered him of that night and that he wouldn’t let it happen again.

But it all turned out good, the train ride actually felt so relaxing and that made you wonder why in the world none of you have ever traveled together by train. Neither of you slept, though, you both talked. Talked for hours nonstop. You talked about your jobs, your experiences, what you like and what you don’t. You talked about what you wished for 2021 and you even chuckled a bit when Harry said he was looking foward to put ring on your finger in 2021; bullshit, you'd think. But anyway, you'd talk on how in some way you both were grateful for having each other during the hard times we’re all living, getting to know each other better while there was nobody on the streets because actually, if the world was ending you both wouldn’t want to spend it anywhere else and with anyone else.

The train ride was so calm, so great, so both of you. You were not the kind of couple that needed all luxury, that needed to go out every weekend to have dinner on a fancy restaurant, that needed to buy each other expensive gifts and needed to share every detail of what you did. You were simple. You were comfortable discovering a new world and experiencing things together on your own way and your own time. Neither of you needed all of those stuff. You only needed each other. You needed to feel the warm of each others body, you needed to be graced by the sound of each others laugh and voice, you needed to see the smile on each others faces and to know that even when times get hard you’d always have each other. Your relationship wasn’t perfect, none are. But in the end of the day love always win and if you love each other and it’s meant to be the rest will be history.

As the sun was starting to rise, you leaned your back in Harry’s chest so you could both see the view from the big glass window. You had your hair loosened on his chest as he envolved you on his arms hugging you from behind supporting his chin by the top of your head. The light yellow sun made the snow even whiter and more resuscitating by touching it with its rays. The sky had this lilac and orange colors, and it seemed to have a breeze air, you couldn’t confirm it though as the train was warmed by a heater. You’d start murmuring to the song Turning Page by Sleeping at Last which caused Harry to smile tenderly. He knew you were doing it by a reflex and actually didn’t think he was going to listen to it, but he did. And he smiled because this had been you guys song for almost three years now.

—Your love’s my turning page, where only the sweetest words remain — Harry would start singing really close to your ears. Really close and really softly, causing you to smile now but never taking your eyes of the view of the window — Every kiss is a cursive line. Every touch is a redefining place — You’d close your eyes caressing his arm around you and then opening your eyes again, messing with his rings that covered the fingers on his strong hands.

— I surrender who I’ve been, for who you are — You’d complement the song lycris with your eyes closed, feeling nothing more than peace.

— For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart — Harry kept singing holding you tight, because he never would want to let you slip away of his embrace — If I had only felt how it feels to be yours, I would’ve known what I’ve been living for.

— What I’ve been living for! — You complemented. There’s no other place either of you would want to be now. Of course this wasn’t the trip that you both planned, but it was better. It was different, funny and relaxing, and that’s the one thing for you.

You both got out of that train feeling nothing more than peace, and that’s the spirit of the holidays, isn’t it? The cold sharp of air hitted your face immidietely and you both rushed to get a car that could take you to the holiday house. Gemma would probably kills both of you for not being properly wrapped up but she actually didn’t, thank god for her to be sleeping.

When you both arrived at the house you struggled a bit to unlock it with the keys but it worked and you came across a beautiful Christmas decoration with a huge christmas tree with a lot of lights and some other cute decorations too. It almost felt like North Pole but it would probably be ten times colder than it was here. You both left your bags on the living room floor and went to take a small tour on the house, when you arrived at the kitchen there were a plate full of brownies and a small note.

Harry & Y/N,

we couldn’t wait for you to arrive because we were so sleepy but we did those brownies for you guys. Eat it, you must be hungry! We love you and we're looking foward to see you in the morning

— love, Anne.

— Your mother is the best person on the entire universe! — You’d say showing the note to Harry and grabbing yourself a piece of brownie as he took the small paper on his hands to read it himself as you took a bite from one brownie— And those brownies are the best thing I’ve ever eaten.

TO BE CONTINUED.... Christmas special part 1

#harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #HARRYxMODELY/N #HARRYxMODELY/NxCHRISTMAS #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader

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sazc94 · 3 years

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Pietro and Bunny

Here is my second entry for the wonderful @msmarvelwrites 2k Challenge.

This a spin-off from my Bucky fic: The three times Bucky broke your heart. Part 1 linked Here.

It follows the same timeline and explores the relationship of Pietro and Reader (Bunny) More.

Words 4890 ish

Themes. Angst, Suggestions of smut. But mostly lots and lots of fluff. 18+ Because of the smut suggestions.

Part 2. (Part 1)

2015. Pietro and you stayed in touch. Both getting swept away in your busy year. Pietro had gone into Business with Wanda creating a fashion company. His dad was helping to fund the start-up costs, but Pietro was never one to take a handout so worked an extra job, he mostly did courier services. this allowed him to be flexible with his days.

Meaning he was able to pick up supplies and do whatever else it was his sister had him running around the city for. It also helped pay towards the rent of his apartment, his father covering half. One day in the summer when Pietro was rushing around he entered into the Baxter building and literally ran smack into a head of blonde hair.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I keep getting told I should slow down.” Pietro said bending offering a hand to the woman he had knocked over. “I’m just as much to blame, honestly I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and all though I may be nicknamed The Invisible woman, I need to remember that I’m not actually invisible” replied the blonde brushing herself down.

She was pretty in that conventional way but her piercing blue eyes drew Pietro in. “Pietro”, he said sticking out his hand. “Susan, but you can call me Sue”, she replied shaking his hand.

Pietro and Susan began dating in the autumn. All though you and Pietro still stayed in touch. The contact was dwindling. He also found it incredibly hard not to call you by your old pet name. “Hey sis, Vis”. Pietro said walking into the small office space they rented in downtown NYC. Wanda was hard at work behind her sewing machine.

“So you’re dating Susan Storm,” Vision said. It wasn’t a question but Wanda’s eyes shot up from her machine to look at Pietro with an acquisitional look. This was news to her. She knew you were dating someone but Susan Storm was practically a celebrity with her brain and looks, plus her high profile relationships with Reed Richards and Victor von Doom. Not to mention her dad was a renowned Scientist too.

“How did you know?” Pietro asked grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the space. “Your pictures from last nights date are all over the internet. Someone called Prez Hilton broke the story” Vision said shrugging. Wanda shot Vision a puzzled look, he may be great with technology and smart enough to work with Tony Stuck, but Vision didn’t usually follow much on the internet. “Ah yes, Pepper Potts showed me how to set up google alerts”. Vision said before heading out the door.

2016

Pietro knew you and Bucky had grown closer over recent months, but it still took him by surprise when he heard from you that you had gotten back together. He knew he had no right to be jealous as it had ultimately been his decision to break up, and he was dating the stunning Sue Storm. But it didn’t stop the small seed of jealousy he felt.

What didn’t help matters was that Sue had been working later and later at the Baxter Building, and getting closer with her ex, Reed. Pietro tried to shrug it off but ultimately after almost a year of dating, he could see that Sue’s heart belonged to another, and if he was being honest. Part of his heart still belonged to his Bunny. So, after a night out in NYC Pietro had kissed Sue Storm goodnight for the final time.

Pietro respected you too much to ruin your newfound happiness with Bucky and it seemed like he had finally turned a leaf over. That was until he got a text from your cousin explaining that Bucky had been unable to get the time off for your Grandma’s funeral.

Pietro didn’t even think twice about using his links to his dad to secure a flight out of NYC for the funeral in September. His heart shattered when he saw you at the airport, with tear-stained cheeks, a red nose, and puffy eyes. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into a huge hug.

“Shhh Bunny” – the old pet name slipping out. “It’s okay, I’m here. She was a wonderful woman. She wouldn’t want all these tears” he said releasing you from his grip. It had been two years since you’d last seen each other in person. Other than the brown in your hair having slightly grown out, no doubt due to your mind being on more pressing matters. You looked exactly the same. His Bunny.

After the funeral Pietro planned to catch the first flight out of Miami back to NYC. With the launch of Scarlett Witch fast approaching Pietro didn’t want to leave his sister to deal with all the pressure herself. At least that’s what Pietro told himself was the reasoning. Truthfully it was that he couldn’t bear to be around you and not be with you.

But when your family had insisted on putting him up for the night and feeding him, he couldn’t refuse.

After the wake when your Mum had insisted on Pietro leaving the dishes, he grabbed two beers from the fridge and went looking for you. He found you sat on the private beach your grandma’s house backed on too.

You sat with one of Bucky’s jumpers wrapped around you. It wasn’t cold but still, you felt cold, so you had grabbed his jumper as a source of comfort and warmth. Pietro stopped for a second before swallowing. This wasn’t about him; this wasn’t about Bucky. This was about you and being there for you whilst you waded through this grief. 7

“Hey Y/N. I thought I’d find you here. Your grandma used to tell me about how she found the sea hypnotising” Pietro said sitting down on the sand before offering you one of the beers he had grabbed.

That night Pietro sat with you in solidarity offering you nothing more than friendship and a pillar of support whilst you cried and then laughed, and then cried some more reminiscing about your cherished times with both your now deceased grandparents.

After Pietro returned to NYC, he put the thought of you out of his head, instead, he turned his efforts to focus on the upcoming December launch party. Thanks to their dad’s connections. Wanda’s hard work and a few strategic tweets and IG posts from a hard-working friend who did add campaign work for a living there was a real buzz around Scarlett Witch.

“Hey Brother, I was thinking of asking Y/N to attend the launch and to wear something from the evening collection for the launch, Jane is in town and already said yes, she’s bringing her Boyfriend Thor, I extended two further invitations to them encase Thor’s brother Loki is around. What do you think?” Wanda said throwing herself onto the grey sofa opposite Pietro. They were at Pietro’s apartment as he had the most amount of spare room.

“Excellent idea, she should bring Bucky too,” Pietro said sipping on his coffee. Pietro wanted to remain in your life and after the funeral, your conversations had been a bit more frequent. Most importantly Pietro wanted you to be happy.

Pietro brought a date along to the event; her name was Crystal and they had been on a few dates before. However, they both had an understanding that this was more of a casual thing and that neither of them were looking for a relationship with each other. Crystal had gone off to schmooze with some of the guests when you arrived. Pietro made a mental note to introduce you both later, he was sure you would both get along with your similar senses of humour. Pietro couldn’t take his eyes off you the moment you entered the event. You looked stunning, Wanda had asked for Pietro’s input when choosing the outfits that You, Wanda and Jane were going to wear. Pietro had chosen a silver two-piece skirt and top for Jane, a scarlet red ensemble for his sister and a Black strapless dress, the top was form-fitting made from chiffon fabric, the skirt cut out the front made of black tulle sparkled with the touches of glitter.

Pietro had chosen the ensembles for two reasons, one they were undoubtedly the showstoppers from Wanda’s evening collection and they all complimented each other well. He made a mental note to ensure Peter Parker got a photo of the three of the ladies together before the evening got away from everyone.

“Bunny! I agree absolutely amazing. Bucky, you don’t look too bad yourself” Pietro said kissing you on the cheek. Pietro was wearing a deep blue suit; it made his hair and ice-blue eyes pop. Wanda had insisted on the blue over a grey suit Pietro had originally planned on wearing. Pietro didn’t miss the smile on your face after they had complimented you, it was as big and bright as it had been that final summer. And you've got a smile That can light up this whole town

After photos and ensuring everyone’s, drinks were full, Wanda and Pietro left the small group of old school friends in the private area of the event and made their way around the guests. The press contained fashion bloggers, small fashion magazines, social media influencers and gossip columnist too. Pietro found his way back to Crystal after he’d finished making the rounds. He was on his way to introduce you when he spotted an unfamiliar red head amongst the group.

Thor introduced her as Natasha, Pietro tried not to give away the surprise in his eyes, but he could sense that there was some tension as you avoided making eye contact with both Pietro and Bucky. Pietro kept his nose out of it for the most part, but when the pair of you said your farewells for the evening, he couldn’t help but assure you that he was there if you wanted to talk.

“Was that Natasha Romanoff I saw hanging around Thor and Y/N’s group most of the evening?” Wanda asked when she and Pietro slipped into the back of the waiting car. “Yes it would appear so, did you know she was coming?” He asked loosening his tie. “Vis said Jane had asked to bring a friend along as Loki couldn’t make it, I told him to tell her it was fine as she technically had four invites. I didn’t realise it was going to be her”, Wanda explained, there was an emphasis on her.

Regardless of her brother's relationship status with yourself she genuinely liked you and always would, her loyalties lied with you and as far as Wanda was concerned, she didn’t even want to know Natasha, something about her didn’t sit right with her from the few interactions they’d had over the years.

“Will Crystal meet you at your apartment? I didn’t see her as we were clearing away”, Wanda said changing the subject. “Huh? Oh, no she’s meeting her friends downtown at the Voodoo Lounge, something about a magic night” Pietro said looking out the window as the streets of NYC blurred into one. He couldn’t help but worry about you, you could put on a bright smile and laugh all you liked, but Pietro knew when you were faking.

2017

The launch of Scarlet Witch had gone better than Pietro and Wanda had hoped. When the label opened up to online orders in February, they had sold out of everything in 30 minutes flat. Now they were looking at opening up an in-person store in the lower east side sometime early next year. Pietro was working late one night in the office when Vision turned up.

“Hey Vision, it's good to see you but Wanda’s not here,” Pietro said sitting back down behind his desk. It was late and the numbers had started to dance around the screen but Pietro was determined to get these figures finished before the weekend. It was the least he could do as Wanda had been working flat out, she insisted on sewing as many of the items herself as possible, and when she had hired two seamstresses, Wanda still checked all their work.

“Thank you, Pietro, but I know she is back at our apartment. It is actually you that I came to see” Vision said. James or Vision as everyone called him very rarely looked nervous, yes he sometimes missed social cues but he was never one to act nervous. Pietro sensing this was important saved his spreadsheets and shut down his computer.

“What’s going on Vis?” Pietro asked walking over to the sofa area where vision, stood awkwardly. “Traditionally, this question would be asked to your father, but as your father was not in your lives much until recent years, I felt it better to ask you” Vision babbled on. Pietro had a pretty good where this was going, but this was Visions plan and Pietro wasn’t about to jump the gun, besides if this was going where he thought it was, it was only right to make him suffer ever so slightly.

“Well Vision, I’m all ears. What is it you want to ask?” Pietro asked grinning. “Well you know how much I adore your sister Wanda, and we have been together a good many years now. So I would like to ask your permission for your sister's hand in Marriage” Vision asked. Vision’s heart was pounding so loud and fast he thought that he might collapse. Pietro’s eyes watered, he was happy for his sister and he was of course going to say yes, but he wanted to have a bit of fun first. He quickly stood and turned away from Vision, heading towards the small fridge of the small office kitchen.

“So you want to marry my sister, are you certain about this Vis? Because once that ring is on her finger, there is no backing down, even if you get cold feet.” Pietro remarked. “I assure you Mr Maximoff, I want this with my whole self” Vison responded. Pietro couldn’t continue with the charade anymore. “Of course you have my blessing Vision, I would be honoured to call you brother,” Pietro said handing Vision a beer.

Vision proposed to Wanda that summer on the fourth of July. The three of them attended Tony Stark’s exclusive fourth of July bash at Stark Tower. Vision had a good relationship with Stark and Pepper was a hopeless romantic at heart. Shortly before the fireworks, Vision and Wanda wandered off to a private balcony three floors above the outside decking where everyone else would watch. Tony introduced the display then the three of them slipped out of the crowd as the fireworks got underway.

Tony had his AI software J.A.R.V.I.S set to record the whole thing. As the firework display got underway. Vision got down on one knee and popped the question. Wanda of course squealed and said yes between tears. That’s when Pietro, Pepper and Tony appeared with glasses of champagne and toasted to the happy couple. “Congratulations Sis, also please let me be there when you call Y/N and tell her, I know she is absolutely going to flip her shit when she finds out,” Pietro said kissing his sister on the cheek.

Sure enough, Pietro was right, three days later when Wanda Facetimed you to show of the ring your excited screams were loud enough to be heard all through NYC. “Oh my god. He did it, he finally proposed! I was wondering if he was ever going to pull his finger out and propose. Oh Wands I am so happy for you, you deserve this” you said. Wanda was so elated she missed the small crack in your voice towards the end of the sentence, but Pietro didn’t.

“Here Pietro want’s to say hi. Go on tell her all about how you had known about this since March! I’m going to get ready Visions parent’s got into town today and we’re meeting them for dinner before they see a show tonight,” Wanda passed the phone to Pietro before heading off to her shower. Pietro had come round specifically to hear the call. Pietro waited for the door to close before he turned his attention back to your face on his sister's screen.

“Everything okay Y/N?” Pietro asked. You sighed before letting your hair out of its ponytail, You were avoiding the question. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m tired, going out later with Peggy Carter, she’s the girlfriend of Bucky’s teammate, Steve. We’re going to get some lunch and do a bit of shopping, Steve’s working on some projects and Bucky said he’s running some extra training drills at the stadium. Not that he needs to the season doesn’t start for another two months, oh I’m sorry. I’m wittering on, how are you? Had any good dates recently?” you asked forcing your voice to be light and carefree.

Pietro knew what you were doing but it wasn’t his place to call you out on lying. “Naa, not really. None that would ever go anywhere” Pietro said. The two of you stayed on facetime for a few more short minutes before Pietro reluctantly advised he had to get going to the office.

September 2017

“So Y/N I have a very important question, will you be one of my Bridesmaids?” Wanda asked. Pietro walked into Wanda’s office just in time to hear you scream your response. “OH MY GOD, ARE YOU KIDDING OF COURSE I WILL” Wanda moved the phone from her ears and looked up at her brother who just grinned. “You owe me 20 bucks I told you she would scream,” Pietro said making himself comfortable in the chair opposite his sister's desk.

“ I should be offended, but I’m in too much of a great mood to care” you chuckled. “Oh, is that so?” Wanda teased. Pietro felt sick, had Bucky proposed? Worse, were you pregnant? “I got offered this amazing job opportunity, it would be working for Stark Industries, Pepper Potts approached me directly about it the other week, I shot it down but she called me again today doubling the offer,” you squealed.

The weight that had threatened to crush Pietro lifted, not that his sister hadn’t noticed the change in his complexion a few moments ago.

“Oh my god Y/N, That’s amazing! Are you going to take it? I miss you and would love to have you nearby like old times. And I am not only saying that so you can do my wedding planning for me” Wanda sang. “I don’t know, I said I would think it over and get back to her after the weekend, I’m going to talk it through with Bucky tonight” you replied. “It sounds like a great opportunity Y/N” Pietro responded with earnest.

“Huh, that’s weird, I wonder what she’s doing here,” you said out loud “Who’s where?” asked Wanda. “Oh um nothing, look I got to go I just got to Buck’s and I’m cooking dinner, going to talk to him about Tony’s offer,” you said before hanging up. Wanda and Pietro just looked at each other. Pietro got up to leave but Wanda shot him a look as if to say she wasn’t finished with him.

“You still love her” she spoke plainly. “He doesn’t deserve her. He’s always posting pictures of him and that Natasha doing “Official” Lions events” Pietro replied simply. “You are right brother, he doesn’t deserve her, but like I told you all those years ago. If you had asked her she would have waited. You don’t get to complain that she moved on with someone who was a big part of her life for 13 or so years” replied Wanda.

She was right and Pietro knew it. He sighed before lifting his gaze to meet his sister's cold blue eyes. “You’re right.” He said simply before exiting the room.

Pietro awoke to his phone ringing at 2 am, he wasn’t going to answer it until he saw your name and the picture of the pair of you from Uni flash up on his phone. “Y/N? Is everything okay? It’s 2 am.” Pietro asked rubbing a hand along his face. You didn’t respond.#

“Y/N, are you safe? Should I call Bucky?” he asked urgency surging in his voice. “NO!” you practically shouted. “Sorry, no please don’t call Bucky,” you asked quietly.

Pietro shifted leaning over to turn on his bedside lamp. “Bunny, you’re scaring me, what’s going on?” Pietro pleaded. The comfort in his voice was enough to break you all over again. You started sobbing all over again. How you had any tears left was beyond you.

“I’ll fucking kill him” Pietro growled. Pietro knew, the pictures Bucky had been posting on IG, the tears now, the way you had withdrawn recently. You didn’t need to say it for him to know. “Please don’t, I don’t have enough money to bail you out of prison” you managed to squeak.

Pietro felt his heart shatter, all he had wanted since you two had started dating was to save you from the heartbreak you had experienced in the summer of 2010 and he had failed you. That night Pietro stayed on the phone with you until 4 am where you finally fell asleep exhausted from the day's turmoil.

May 2018

Pietro and Wanda had helped you apartment hunt. They helped decorate and furnish your apartment ready for your move to the Big Apple in January. Wanda had introduced you to her friends slash employees but to Wanda, they really were her friends: Doreen Green, Janet Van Dyne, Julia Carpenter and Laura Kinney. Including you on many girls nights.

Vision and Pietro always walked you home after nights out. Wanda made sure to invite you to brunch with her and Vision when Pietro was attending. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to give you and Pietro another shot, it’s just you weren’t certain he would want you, after all, Bucky had really done a number on you again.

Sighing you picked up your phone and decided to take a leap of faith and text him, the two of you hadn’t spent any time alone together since you had moved in January.

Pietro’s Pov

Pietro’s phone buzzed. You, me and that little cafe in times square tomorrow = date? – Y/N x Pietro was stunned, he was sure that the time for you guys to be a couple had long passed. “Brother, are you listening?” Wanda asked agitated at her brother's lack of respect, the two of them were going through the plans for the rest of the year. Plans for when they would drop certain collections, run certain in-store promos. When they would run online promo’s.

“Sorry, it’s just Y/N just text me, asking me on a date” Pietro’s voice came out dazed. All though Wanda was miffed, she couldn’t help but smile. Looks like Y/N had finally listened to the girls last night when they went out for Monday night happy hour. “You had best text her back then brother” She responded raising her eyebrows at Pietro. I thought you’d never ask. How does 5 pm work? Pietro shot back.

Perfect x Your response came through almost immediately.

Your Pov

You got to the café early, you were too nervous to focus on anything in the office. And as you were only scheduled to work until four, you decided it was just easier to go to the café and wait with a book or something, you had to deal with this nervous energy somehow. You walked in expecting he’d be late, but Pietro got there early and he stood and waved. You walked to him Pietro pulled your chair out and helped you in. Pietro sat down opposite you and shot you a small nervous grin.

“I ordered you a hot chocolate and a cookie, I know how much you like hot chocolate even if it’s warm out like today,” he said shyly. “Thank you,” you said, you felt yourself blush. For goodness sake Y/N this is Pietro, you dated him for three years get a grip you silently berated yourself.

As the date got underway you felt yourself relax and slip into a comfortable bubble, you told Pietro about a recent mishap where one of your colleagues Darcy Lewis had accidentally thrown toner waste all over you.

You couldn’t help but smile as Pietro threw his head back laughing like a little kid. He took your hand and rubbed small circles on the back of it, that familiar feeling made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again.

December 2017 Pietro’s Pov. The snow was falling, and the streets of New York City were quitter than usual, a sign that Christmas was just around the corner. You had finished for a nice long Christmas break earlier that week and last night Pietro had taken you out for drinks and dinner as a surprise. However, due to the snow the restaurant had been unable to open as staff couldn’t get in due to all the delays on the subway. Pietro had felt crestfallen.

Right up until you had suggested that the pair of you skipped dinner and went back to Pietro’s straight for dessert. Pietro had struggled to leave you this morning. As he only had a few things to deal with before Scarlett Witch shut down for three weeks for a well-earned extended Holiday break he hadn’t left until later that morning around 10:30.

You had once again found your way back to the bright bubbly person you and everyone else knew you to be. Pietro as always being that safe place for you to heal. The way you danced around the kitchen cooking pancakes had Pietro beside himself. You really were ultraviolet. That fire you ignited, Good, Bad and undecided, Burns when I stand beside it Your light is ultraviolet. Pietro thought to himself.

All though you had only been back together since May this time Pietro was never going to let you again.

Pietro was leaving the office for a late lunch when his phone pinned with a google alert. James “Bucky” Barnes announces engagement to Natasha Romanoff! Read the headline. Fuck. That piece of shit. Pietro felt rage on behalf of you. He knocked on Wanda’s door. “Hey, Wanda. I know were almost done here anyway, but I got to go early” Pietro shifted uncomfortably.

“Why?” Wanda asked simply. They were almost done but Pietro was meant to be shutting down the website whilst Wanda finalised everyone’s surprise Christmas bonuses. Pietro didn’t say anything simply handing his phone to his sister. Wanda scanned the headline and the article. Sucking in a deep breath. “Go. I’ve got this. Go check on Y/N” she said her eyes softening.

Pietro practically raced home. Just as he was coming out the subway his phone rang, caller ID showing Sam. “What the fuck is that dickhead playing at?!” Sam asked. Pretty much the entire friend group had cut ties with Bucky after they found out he had been cheating on you again.

“I have no idea, but he better hope to god I never see him, because I will not hesitate to rip him a new one, look I’m just letting myself into my apartment building, Y/N stayed here last night as she didn’t have work today and we’re meant to be going to Stark’s Christmas gala this evening. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later. Pietro said ringing off before Sam could respond. Pietro knew Sam would understand.

“Hey handsome how was your day?” you asked not taking your eyes away from the street below. Pietro breathed a sigh of relief, he was certain he would have come home to find you curled up in bed, or worse the floor crying. You were happy together but that didn’t make Bucky’s betrayal sting any less.

“It was good, busy” he replied taking off his coat and walking over to join you at the window seat. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. He smiled to himself as he caught sight of the kids below. He could faintly see in the reflection of the window that your eyes were rimmed with red.

“How about you Bunny? I saw a news alert. I’m guessing you know about the engagement?” he asked. You hummed a response. Pietro knew you loved him; he also knew that you knew how much he loved you. But that didn’t make seeing you hurt any easier. Suddenly you shifted turning around to face him. His floppy silver-blonde hair covering those beautiful ice blue eyes, they looked at you with such love and endearment, they also spoke a silent promise. You kissed him gently on the lips before standing up.

“Come on Quicksilver let's shower before the Stark Christmas Gala,” you said pulling your boyfriend along behind you shooting him a knowing grin. God, he fucking loved you.

All this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me

#pietro maximoff #pietro x reader #pietro x you #pietro fluff #bucky x natasha #wanda x vision #msmarvelwrites2k #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #avengers au #pietro x y/n #soft pietro

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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Star is getting better, Sam is getting a friend, Stephen is a Sad White Boy™. A layover chapter. I'm not very happy with how this turned out but hey, it's an update and its still pandemi-lovato outside, we gotta be gentle on ourselves. PA turned out to be way more serious than I planned it to be anyways and I think that's very yeehaw of me to expand my writing from the usual almost-crackfics that I write. Love you all 3000.

Days stretched like a piece of chewed up gum, bleeding into one another at a snail's pace, one dull grey NYC afternoon after the other. The hospital wing I was forced to camp out in Tony's tower was top notch but everything, starting from the constant beeping to the sharp, chemical smells, irritated me, and what little strength I had to communicate was mostly spent on listening to Sam's tall tales.

Odette had stopped by shortly after the first wave of weakness had set in; no, I didn't dramatically faint or suddenly develop third stage cancer, I simply turned into a near-catatonic vegetable, devoid of any emotion or will to exist. My bones were like Jell-o, my thoughts - sluggish, sparse clouds that rarely swam in the grey plains of my overtired mind.

My boss was fussing over me for hours, I heard faint echoes of her and Stephen's argumentative conversations before she flipped out and shut the door to my hospital room, strong aromas of incense and smoke briefly overshadowing the bleach and plastic stench every hospital seemed to have. I

I became mostly coherent after her ministrations; enough to see the dark circles under her eyes and the ghastly tone of her skin. More often than not, I couldn't even properly focus my vision, things like using the bathroom and eating three times a day were the worst chores I'd ever had to do.

My body was trying to convince me to wither away, to simply allow the vessel for my spirit to become one with the Earth once more. I had no energy to process what had happened on the foreign planet; when I slept, I didn't dream, I didn't have nightmares, time just flowed like a fast, untamed river, my weary body drifting along the calmer streams of the shoreline and occasionally bumping into a stone of daily routine.

My stubbornness, however, was an inherent part of me. I had considered, many times, simply giving up; the voices in my head whispered at me their poisonous ideas. It would be so easy, to fall asleep and never wake up. They baited me with the promises of afterlife, of golden halls and spaces full of light and warmth.

Sam had started spending a lot of time at my bedside absolutely unprompted; sometimes, he'd hold my hand, gentle, tender fingers drawing senseless squiggles on the inside of my palm. Faint echoes of his aura told me he was worried for me, but also grateful for what I did for Stephen and angry at someone. I tried not to think about the last part: I could sense their pity and their unease every time one of his teammates stopped by my hospital room.

A healthy-looking young woman spending most of her days blankly staring at the wall wasn't a picture-postcard view. Sam wasn't bothered by it in the slightest, and when I finally clawed my way out of the dredges to be able to answer questions with a simple 'yes' or 'no', he promptly lit up, speaking to me in a happy tone that almost wasn't forced.

Tony stopped by, too, usually late in the evening, when he thought I and everyone else was asleep. He sat next to me, his intelligent brown eyes fixed on my face for twenty, thirty minutes at a time before he'd stroke my hair or run a hot, calloused palm over my arm, and then took his leave, slow, shuffling footsteps quietly receding into the hallways. I really didn't know what to think about Tony, he had always been quite quirky, but his gestures were... Nice.

Stephen... Him, his actions, I understood the least. He had argued with Tony, argued with Odette and I was sure I heard him and the Black Widow scream at each other during lunch time. Sometimes I thought I heard his voice, at night, the darkness behind my eyelids suddenly bursting with golden sparks and green bokeh but when I finally mustered up the strength to open my eyes, the empty, white walls were all that greeted me.

Stephen never stopped by, I rarely heard his voice outside of my room and almost always it was one bickering or another, mostly with Sam muttering a few choice words as he noisily sat down on the chair next to me. As much as I hated to admit it, it bothered me. Near-death experiences tended to leave a strong imprint on the human mind and whether Stephen liked it or not, we were connected for life.

"Then Steve, the dumbass, just jumps out of the plane. No chute, no warning," Sam's voice, drifting between fond and annoyed, snapped me out of my stupor. "Robot-brain curses, yells at his boyfriend like he can hear him and just... Does the same fucking thing," the exasperation made a tiny spark of mirth settle in me. I flexed my fingers despite the dull ache, gripping Sam's fingers in my palm. I didn't need to see him to know he immediately perked up. "Meanwhile I'm standing there with my wings, trying to figure out where in life did I take the wrong turn to end up with these two idiots."

"You should get them," I swallowed, my throat dry, my vocal cords tense from the lack of use. "One of those... Backpack leashes," the words were a battle to get out, it was a fight with a brick wall to force my brain to string sounds into a sentence, but I persisted.

"Should I say 'welcome back'?" Sam's optimism is cautious.

"Gettin' there," I forced my eyes to meet his, to see the life bustling in him. To feel alive, even by proxy.

"I should get Strange here, he's been running himself ragged these days, tryin' to figure out how to bring you back," Sam's free hand scrambled for his cell as I struggled to raise my eyebrows. "Yeah, yeah, I was as surprised as you were, Tony barely gets the wizard to sleep and eat."

Faint pangs of shame wormed into my headspace, for assuming the worst when I knew that his façade of vitriol and sarcasm was just that - a wall to protect himself. My rediscovery of the ability to feel, even if it was gooey shame, grounded me in this plane of existence, forcing me to face reality and return to it.

"I feel like shit," for once in my life, I allowed myself to openly, publicly complain about my state of being.

"Yeah, I couldn't tell," Sam's tone was refreshingly teasing. "Odette and Strange explained what you did. Well, sort of," the man scratched his chin. "I understood about half of it, really, but what matters is that you were badass as fuck!"

I struggled to hold onto that sense of being present. "Well, it wasn't my choice," I felt the need to state the fact. "I'm a conductor, of sorts."

Sam's eyebrows rose, both of his hands encompassing my lax palm. "Wizard-man said you consciously directed the energies, or whatever."

I felt the tiniest laugh bubble up from the bottom of my throat, my dry, chapped lips stretched on their own accord. "Because it tickled and itched. It was annoying," I belatedly suspected that there was something... Off, about my explanation.

Sam's gaping expression, exasperated disbelief, put me on edge. "You thought that radioactive ash tickles and severe nerve damage itches?" His head shook from side to side, as if he was trying to get rid of a persistent mosquito.

"Um," I had the decency to look away. "I didn't know it was radioactive," I meekly supplied as the door to my hospital room all but flew open.

Stephen looked - not much better than me, if I had to guess, with the exception of a highly anxious face instead of the (probably) dead inside high school drama club goth that I looked like. The Cape billowed behind him despite a lack of any wind, wiggling as my eyes widened in response to the fabric moving on its own.

"You're okay," Stephen's baritone had me snapping up to meet his stormy eyes with a speed I wasn't aware I possessed at this stage of my recovery. The sorcerer stood silently, eyeing me in turn.

"I'll go get some coffee," Sam delicately interjected, giving my hand a brief squeeze and all but running out the door.

"Radioactive?" I repeated the question that bothered me the most. Shock seized my chest as I fully faced the implications of our impromptu adventure, but I welcomed the acrid sensations, desperate to feel anything at all.

"Yes," the sorcerer took a few long, hurried strides before crashing into the chair. "I didn't notice at first, but then you grabbed my hand and," a jerky inhale followed the confession. "I felt the healing burn, I felt how your body rejected the particles," his speech stuttered. Slender, gloved fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'd be dead in an hour, maybe, if not for..."

I was equally at a loss for words, it seemed. "Weren't we... Harmful to others when we..?" I struggled to form my thoughts.

"You burnt it all off," Stephen replied curtly, puzzled. "Your whole being rejected everything that came from that wretched place. Tony insisted we run tests, do scans. Neither of us have even residual radiation from past x-rays," Stephen's fingers twitched. "But that's not all."

"Your hands?" I offered, remembering some of Sam's words.

A sharp inhale coming from the sorcerer answered my question, if not in detail, and the man himself hesitated to reply for a reason I did not know. I didn't undo the damage, this much I knew was true. He swallowed loudly, eyes firmly planted on the wall opposite me. "They do not hurt anymore," the words were barely louder than a whisper.

I chewed on my lip, slowly, idly, letting Stephen process whatever bothered him that much. He should have been happy, or so I thought, that there was one less thing in this world that had the potential of giving him a headache. "Good," I simply replied, attempting to shrug.

"No, you don't understand," he suddenly lifted his eyes, staring at me hotly. "You did so at the expense of your own life, your lifespan, you energy, your ability to have child-"

I stopped his rant, lifting up one shaky, and my feeble gesture instantly made the tired, broken man deflate into someone that reeked of shame and regret. His shoulders dropped, head briefly touching the side of my bed. For all purposes, I nearly acquired a lapful of kicked puppy Stephen.

Mustering up my very last dregs of energy, I scoffed in his direction: "Don't fucking tell me what to do, wizard," before the familiar weight of apathy began taking over me again. One sluggish thought after the other, I came to a conclusion that he was experiencing a sort of survivor's guilt, except I didn't die.

Or maybe I did? Maybe I'd left some unknown, invisible part of me on the irradiated plains of a foreign world, coming home as a shell of my former self. To their eyes, at least, it could have looked the part; not too long after Stephen's departure, I mustered up the strength and the courage to look into a mirror, to properly see the damage I'd done to myself.

An ashen undertone to my skin, my eyes had sunken deeply into my surprisingly angular face. I had the look of a person who'd survived famine and torture, at least. I appeared to be as dull and disgusting as I felt. For what felt the first time in ages, I carefully, slowly ran myself a hot bath with some of the fancy toiletries placed in the bathroom, because of course Tony would have a full size bath in a hospital room, the steaming, herbal-smelling liquid almost instantaneously giving a boost to my blood flow and speeding up the living energies within my exhausted form.

Sam was waiting for me when I stepped out heated and pruney, a lopsided tilt to his lips and the mouthwatering smell of coffee gathering saliva in my mouth for the first time in days.

"Stephen needs to see a fucking therapist," I grouched, sitting down on the bed, bundled up in a fluffy bathrobe.

Wilson's responding eyeroll was pure reflex. "They all do," he reached out for his thermos, having noticed me eyeing it. A paper cup was promptly filled and given to me. "I can recommend a few, by the way. That specialise in unusual circumstances," he eyed me with kindness, gesturing towards the hospital room with a wide wave of his hand.

I chewed on my lip. "I don't think it will help much, at least right now, since all my hurts are- eh, magical," I shrugged. "I gotta figure out how to stop my limbs from feeling like cooked spaghetti noodles first." The coffee tasted like the usual hospital sludge but somehow, after being devoid of all feeling, it was the single best thing I've had in the past week.

"Seems like a solid plan," Sam agreed. "Your boss is a scary lady, by the way. And I mean it respectfully."

The corners of my mouth tilted up. "Yeah, but she's also very experienced and very kind. She knows her stuff."

Sam quickly looked to the side and as I followed the direction of his stare, i spied a pile of empty Tupperware boxes, causing me to lift an eyebrow at the suddenly bashful man.

"What?" He tried for indignant but it came out as a squeak. "I'm a man, god dammit! I am given free food, I take the free food!"

The realization set in. "She's feeding you now? Did you hit on my boss to get food, Sam?" I wagged my fingers, enjoying the face expressions the man was making, probably, a little more than I should. He looked like a right bird when disgruntled, all puffed up and glaring.

"No!" He almost shrieked. "She cornered me, said I was doing God's work by sitting and talking to you! She just started bringing those... Casseroles, every time she stopped by," the agitation in his voice was quite funny to me. "Not like it's a chore, I actually like the peace and quiet. You've been the best listener I've had in the past year," Sam's grin grew more genuine. "And I don't have to see RoboCop's mug all day or listen to someone argue over the best pasta shape."

"Your house sounds like a nightmare," I supplied conversationally, remembering my own peculiar place and the set of rules and- SHIT, I belatedly realized, someone might went to my apartment to get my stuff and gotten in trouble. "Sam, who went to my place to get my stuff?" I asked, trying to force down the bubbling unease.

"Some lady stopped by, I think her name was also Sam?" He quietly questioned. "Had two kids with her, the boy kept staring at me like I'd stolen his lunch money," the man finished off his coffee, gathering the trash and noisily throwing it in the bin.

"Yeah, that's my neighbor. And Armin is a cool little dude, he's just very shy," I offered absent-mindedly, inwardly breathing a massive sigh of relief.

"He looks like the boy from 'I see dead people' movie," Sam deadpanned, opening a large drawer and extracting my gym bag from it. "I'll leave you to get dressed," we nodded to each other before Sam left the room, phone to his ear and a relaxed atmosphere around his whole being radiating warmth and contentment. That was a nice change from the tense, grim atmosphere of the days past. I could get used to it, could re-learn how to let myself feel like a living being again.

I was eager to return home; stepping in through the portal, my living room greeted me exactly the way I left it the day I went to work, a few books scattered on the couch, my fleece blanket hanging halfway off the couch. Stephen hovered behind me as I set my bag down on the table, immediately surveying the state of my plants and my altar.

"Do you need, um, help with anything?" He was fidgeting, all but vibrating behind me.

Apparently, Sam had talked some sense into the wizard because he stopped by a few times since that day, for a short small-talk or a cup of coffee, the kicked puppy look back on full display.

I told Sam off, of course, saying that I was an adult and so was Strange, but something in his knee-jerk reaction told me that he was so used to playing referee, it didn't even register with him that I might be able to handle my own business. I told Sam that much, taking his hand in me: I wanted a friend, not a parent, not a therapist. It went pretty smoothly.

"No, not really," I figured I could water my own plants and vacuum my own floors. My phone buzzed at that moment, a number saved in my phone as "Tony 😎" coming through with an absolutely outrageous message.

"I'm bringing pizza in 20. You better have Netflix. Tell Dumbledore to pick up his phone."

I promptly thrust the phone in Stephen's face, who instantly developed an equally annoyed and fond expression, as he searched the numerous pockets of his robe for the sleek, light StarkPhone. "Resistance is futile," he sighed, sitting down on the couch as I went to change into something fresh and water my plants while Stephen flicked through my Netflix. I heard him mutter to himself: "Grey's anatomy? Sixth season? Oh my God," with the tone of a man tortured.

"I had a roomie in college who majored in Medical History," I snorted. "When she had a bad day, she'd absolutely pick apart every single thing in the show. From the doctor's misconduct to the way a surgeon was holding the scalpel," I explained, seeing Stephen's eyes sparkle with amusement. "She was absolutely vicious and it was the most hilarious thing."

The sorcerer stroked his chin, leaning back into the couch. "That's acceptable. All medical shows are rubbish," he stated firmly. His phone beeped, causing him to sigh and conjure up a portal within seconds, in the corner of my apartment I had aptly designated to be the landing pad to myself. Tony stepped in, a bottle of wine and three steaming pizza boxes in hand. Smiling at his boyfriend, Stephen turned to me with a curious look: "What did you major in?"

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#practical alchemy #bun writes #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x you #stephen strange x you #tony stark x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #fun fact: ironstrange x reader was the ship that blocked the suez canal #source: me im the most reliable

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

Text

Oh Yeah, I Remember Now

It’s Who I Am Part 4

Word Count: 2555

Warning: I didn’t go into much detail but there is mentions of abuse and other things which the reader went through during their time with HYDRA

How would The Falcon and The Winter Soldier have played out if you, the younger daughter of Howard Stark got involved? You had been kidnapped by HYDRA at a young age, your mind taken from you as they forced you to work towards creating new weapons for them and when HYDRA had fallen you had gotten free with your scattered memories for you to slowly piece together.

You'd had a relatively good childhood, sure your father was a dirtbag to both you and Tony but your mom was good. She tried to protect the both of you, Tony had done his best to protect you as well. But you'd always lived in their shadow. It was always, "oh you're Howard's daughter? I didn't know he had a daughter," or "aww what a cutie, you must help your mom take such god care of your father and brother." All of this made you sick. None of it was Tony's fault it was all misogyny and your father's sexism.

The next thing you remember is a science fair. It's third grade and you've made a tiny drone, which you can fly around and take pictures with. You were so excited to show everyone, to show your dad that you could be an engineer as well, but only your mother and Tony came. They tried to encourage you but you didn't say anything, it isn't until you get home and you're lying in bed that you cry. You're good at keeping your crying quiet, quiet enough that no one would know you had spent the night crying and when you got up in the morning the tears were gone.

Then you're at boarding school, somewhere they could teach you to be a proper 13 year old girl. One night sticks out above the rest, the dorms caught fire everyone was getting out. You tripped as you tried to get out of bed and then when you tried to get up a cold metal hand covered your mouth and someone picked you up, throwing you over their shoulder, you feel something prick your arm as you begin to kick and scream, and then things go dark.

You're in a small cell with grey walls and grey floors. You're 15 as you're sitting there, refusing to cooperate with HYDRA's current plan, the door slams open and in walks one of the nameless agents. They show you a newspaper, the headline announcing that your parents had died in a car crash, they then show you other photos, and tell you how they had had them killed by the Winter Soldier. From there they go into great detail on the fact that if you didn't begin cooperating they would bring your brother to be the next one they make you torture.

From there things get especially messy in your mind. Some days remembering your past and other days not. Some days you're the one doing the torturing and other days the one being tortured. HYDRA had forced you to commit many atrocities in their name, so many you couldn't begin to count. There were the times where you were the one who was in charge of resetting Bucky's mind, wiping it and preparing him for a mission. There were other times when you were difficult and they had the winter soldier beat you into submission.

There was one day, one day during which nearly all of HYDRA's agents disappeared and never came back. You were locked in your tiny cell, you don't know how long you were there on your own, hunger clawing at your stomach and dehydration quickly becoming an issue. You don't remember how but you got out and escaped.

It's who knows how many months later that you become aware of anything again. You're lying in some alleyway somewhere and have none of your memories. You find your way to a library, feeling safe there, from there you begin to figure out how exactly the world works and how you can survive.

It's another few years after that, having short term memory loss and being slow to pick up on anything. It is at this point where you've some how ended up in NYC and as you're walking down the street that you bump into Tony. You don't recognize him but he recognizes you. It happens quickly, he gets a DNA test to be sure but soon you're living with him and have some of your life together but still no memories. It's during this time that you meet a few other people, but thanks to Tony they keep the fact that you're still alive quiet, not wanting to overwhelm you with his life when you barely have yours together.

After that you're sitting in the Avenger's compound with Rhodey when something happens and people you haven't meet before show up. First it's just one guy named Bruce, then a group of people Steve, Natasha, Wanda, Vision and Sam. That was the first time you had met Sam, though you hadn't spoken to him. From there you all go to Wakanda, try to save Vision, apparently cross paths with Bucky, fail to save Vision, fight some aliens in one of Tony's suits, punch a giant purple dude in the face a few times then ultimately get turned to dust with a few billion other people on the planet.

Then you find yourself lying on the ground in the jungle of Wakanda with half of the people you'd been fighting Thanos with. Some sort of portals open up in front of all of you and you fight even more aliens. You pass by Tony at some point and give him a quick hug in the middle of all of it, despite not having memories you still knew you cared deeply for him and was one of the few people you felt safe when you were with. Then as soon as your world had come together, it falls apart again, Tony had sacrificed himself to save the rest of you.It is when you're at his funeral that things begin to set in for you, your brother is gone, you're once again alone in the world... except you weren't. Tony had a wife and a daughter, Pepper and Morgan, it didn't take much for them to take you in and act as though you had always been part of their family.

It's in the six months following that when you create your own suit, and somewhat get yourself together. At least you have it together enough that your memory of that time is pretty solid even if your mind felt scattered. It is after those six months of relative peace and calm that brings you to the present. Where you had met up with Sam and Bucky on accident and teamed up with them to figure out this problem.

There is a knock on the door you have your back too, and it shakes out of the state you are in. "Hey, y/n," it's Sam, "are you alright in there?"

"Uh- yeah- yeah- I'm fine." You stand up and quickly wipe the tears which had formed in your eyes before opening the door. "Hey," you can see the concern in Sam's eyes, "I'm fine, just needed a minute," you pause before changing the subject, "so what's the plan?"

"Sharon is going to be hosting some people here and will ask around to see if anyone knows where we can find Naegele," Sam explains, "so we can join the party and just have to blend in with the crowd."

"Sounds good," you look down at your dress that has some blood splattered on it then look back at Sam, "you think she has a different dress I can wear?"

"Probably, we can go ask her."

You let Sam lead the way back to the other room, where you give Zemo a death glare before asking Sharon, "hey, you have a dress I could borrow? I don't think blood will blend well."

"Sure," she goes over to a closet and gets out a dress which she hands to you, "here, put this on, I'm going to get headed down to begin letting the guests in."

You nod and take the dress, going to change quickly before coming back out, where you're greeted by Sam and Bucky telling you Zemo had gone with Sharon. "Can I help you?" you ask with more than a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

Bucky doesn't hesitate, "what happened?"

You raise an eyebrow at him and pause for a moment before say, "shit. Shit happened, and I... remembered." You shake your head a bit, "before you ask, no I don't want to talk about it. It's a lot, it's fucked up and it's a lot but like, I can get drunk so I'm going to go do that downstairs right now then drunk cry it out so I'm good to go tomorrow."

You admitting that you remembered has Bucky feeling uncomfortable because you were right it was fucked up and he had been involved in it.

"Y/n, getting drunk it's going to help," Sam says.

You sigh and look at Sam, "I know that but I'm going to do it anyways because at the moment I don't want to deal with it. Plus I don't think I've ever gotten drunk before so it won't take much to do so I'll be good to go in the morning."

"It's still a bad idea," Sam says but isn't going to argue further since you're obviously set on this plan.

You go through with your plan, and you were right about it not taking much for you to get drunk, but its enough that you don't have to think about life for a few hours. Then in the morning you wake up hungover, but with enough time to mostly recover by the time it's time to go find Naegele. You get dressed in in your 'suit' of leggings and a shirt before heading out with the other four to find Naegele.

You go with them down to the docks, where they keep all the shipping containers. Sharon leads all of you right up to the one he is supposed to be in. You let the boys go in and you stay out with Sharon, mostly to make sure Naegele doesn't make a run for it but it ends up being pretty convenient for fighting some of the guys the power broker sent to stop all of you from getting to Naegele.

It is with ease that you take them down, discovering that the reason you hadn't been great at fighting before was because of HYDRA wiping your mind. They took the methods you picked up over time from your mind, making it nearly impossible to improve even if you instinctively knew what to do. There is a lull in the fighting, during which you and Sharon slip into the shipping container and go to the back and into the secret are to find the others.

The two of you barely make it into the room when a gunshot goes off, Zemo killing Naegele right there. You only have a chance to shout, "what the hell?!" Before the box around you explodes.

You tuck and roll, escaping the flames and second rocket fired at the shipping crates. You don't know if anyone else made it out but for now you just need to make sure all of you will survive past this point. Your suit had protected you well, and you were thankful since you'd learned the evening before that you weren't at all enhanced but just had an unusually high pain tolerance. It doesn't take you long to spot one of the people who were after you and you focus in on them, one thing you could control. You could control that they were kept busy fighting you and you could control where they were so the others could get out.

As you throw yourself at the man in front of you, you hear gunshots and you're thankful. That means the others made it out of that explosion. You don't want to kill anyone, you had come close when Zemo had activated whatever it was HYDRA had put in your head, but you'd done enough killing in your life. You just needed to incapacitate them, and you do. It's just a matter of hitting a few pressure points and he should stay down for a few hours at least.

From there you move onto the one other person you can see but you are beat to them by Sam. You jog up to him now that things had calmed down a little and see Sharon and Bucky, leaving Zemo as the only one unaccounted for. "Hey, did we get them all?"

"Seems like it," Sharon responds.

Sam looks at her, "come with us."

Sharon shakes her head, "just get me that pardon you promised."

Sam nods once then looks at Bucky, about to say something only to be interrupted by Zemo pulling up in a car. "Shall we?"

You get in the car without hesitating, taking the seat behind Zemo so you can keep an eye on him. Bucky claims the front seat and Sam gets in behind him, saying something about him not moving the seat up. Then you're off, leaving to get back on Zemo's plane and head to the location they had gotten from Naegele.

When all of you are on the plane there is a short conversation as you go over the plan. Then silence falls over all of you, not a nice silence but an awkward silence and you can feel their eyes on you. You finally decide to break the silence and look at Bucky, "hey, I should apologize for all the shit HYDRA made me do to you, so... sorry," you frown and shrug a bit in an attempt to play it off like no big deal as it's always awkward to experience emotions with other people around.

Bucky just shrugs a bit, "it's alright, not exactly your fault. Sorry for kidnapping you."

You don't know why but you laugh. Maybe because it's so ridiculous but you shut up as quickly as you can and shake your head, "it's alright, not exactly your fault either."

"Having less of a memory problem I see," Zemo cuts in on the slight moment the two of you are having.

Your head snaps around to look at him, "you're on thin ice, so tread lightly, or I'll make you wish you'd died in that explosion back there."

Zemo laughs, "ah, there is the Stark attitude that HYDRA had so much trouble controlling." He presses his fingertips together and relaxes in his seat before continuing, "HYDRA was only able to get Lemonade to stick in your mind. It was in case you needed to protect one of the agents from a monster you had created. They had to manually mess with your memory thanks to you being so stubborn, as they couldn't seem to break you."

You can't help but feel a little nauseous as he speaks but you know he's telling the truth. "Yeah, and you better not use it again though I'm pretty sure I broke it last night." Then you look at Sam, "in the case that I didn't break the programming I have weak knees if you hit them from behind and a peanut allergy, knock me out if needed I shouldn't die."

You don't get a response to that but you felt better knowing they could easily stop you if Zemo pulled anything. But that was it and with that you were able relax for the rest of the flight.

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thatesqcrush · 4 years

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Fall From Grace, Pt. 8

Bryan Kneef x Reader. Fandom: The Good Fight. Reference: S4, E.4, “The Gang is Satirized and Doesn’t Like It.” CW: Angst, language.

AN: Our lovely REE was on The Good Fight for all of 3 minutes so I am taking lots of liberties. I am obsessed with the anti-Barba. He was just delicious.

AN2: I may have been inspired slightly by that horrible Barba episode that I pretend doesn’t exist - you may recognize what Barba said to Liv. So credit to SVU, S.19, E. 13, The Undiscovered Country.

AN3: Bryan’s outfit was inspired by Chef Harry. So if you don’t know what that looks like, may I present you...

Reading your text caused Bryan’s heart to lurch.

He slammed his glass of whiskey back, swallowing it hole. He was tempted to respond but instead he did not. Not right away at least. He mulled over what Marissa had said: “All this fussing to say you care? Sounds like love to me.”

Love.

He wasn’t one for love. Life was like an old black and white movie; he was absolutely sure who were the good guys and the bad guys – nine times out of ten, he was the good guy in court, but the bad guy in relationships. And then you had weaseled your way into his world and black and white became different shades of gray. And then it became blues and greens.

He then recalled Marissa’s other advice: Be honest about what you want. All it takes is some communication.

But it seemed you didn’t want to have any opportunity to talk to him.

Never one to back down from a challenge, he decided he was going to make his own opportunity. Bryan knew he fucked up and he vowed to himself to make it up to you – if only you’d let him.

And he hoped you would.

You walked up the sidewalk to your apartment, hands full of empty boxes. You had made sure to get to the market early so you could get the good boxes – otherwise you were stuck with the boxes that smelled like melon.

You made your way back into your apartment. It wasn’t that hot yet, so you opened the window to let the morning breeze come in. You asked Alexa to play your favorite playlist and then tied your hair into a pony-tail.

Packing sucked. But you had movers coming in three days and you needed to get your affairs in order.

Hours later, you still had a ways to go but you had a good section done. You needed more boxes so you made plans to pick up some more, resigning that some of your stuff would smell like melon after all.

Exhausted, you collapsed on your couch with a cool compress on your forehead. “Mmmm, just need a nap.” You mumbled to yourself.

Your eyes felt heavy and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were out. You sighed contentedly, ready for the sleep to settle in when the loud roar of a motorcycle startled you awake. Annoyed, you walked over to the window to close it when you noticed who was getting off the motorcycle.

It was Bryan.

He looked up towards the apartment windows and you immediately ducked your head, hitting it on the head of the window frame.

“Son of bitch!” You moaned, rubbing your head. You could hear your phone buzzing in the distance and you knew it was Bryan calling. You didn’t pick up, instead choosing to head downstairs to meet him outside.

With every step down, you felt the knots in your stomach grow. With a deep breath, you opened the main entrance door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Bryan looked up from his cellphone and gave you what you were certain was a genuine smile.

You didn’t let it sway you.

You looked both ways before crossing the street. You felt woefully under-dressed – more of a hot mess if you will. You were in grey sweat shorts and a dark blue fitted t-shirt. And you would be damned if you didn’t admit how good he looked. Especially in the leather jacket. He wore faded black jeans and a dark grey Henley. A gold chain glinted under the few buttons of the Henley that were undone.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed at Bryan.

“We need to talk.” Bryan replied, removing his helmet. “Can I come up and talk to you for a few minutes?”

“About what?” You asked, with a sneer. You crossed your arms under your chest. “I don't think that's a good idea.

“Because of what might happen?”

“Because it's not a good time.”

“You’re quitting. You’re leaving.” Bryan tossed his helmet from hand to hand. “You’re not leaving me with much of an option.”

“I told you – there is no reason for me to stay.”

Bryan sighed and placed his helmet on the seat of his bike. “That’s not entirely true. Can we please go upstairs and talk?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Fine, but don’t get any funny ideas. I hope you know that I hate you from the bottom of my vagina.”

Bryan cocked his head, covering his mouth that was threatening to twitch into a smile. “Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and the two of you made way back into the apartment. Bryan felt his heart sink further as he took in the sight of your half-packed apartment. You really were leaving. And it was his fault.

You looked over your shoulder. “Do you want anything to drink? I have vodka in the freezer, soda and water.”

“Water is just fine.”

You stood behind your breakfast bar – the idea that somehow it served as a barrier between you and Bryan was almost laughable. There was a part of you that wanted to fling yourself over and kiss him. But you held your ground.

Bryan took the water and drank it before sitting on your couch. You eyed him warily; you could feel your heart thumping in your chest and your stomach was in knots. Bryan reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through to your text, and murmured the majority before speaking at full volume: I picked NYC because the man who doesn’t love me isn’t there.”

“I know what I said Bryan.”

“The implication is that I don’t love you. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“Don’t you dare say it, Bryan!”

“I love you.”

You felt all the air get sucked out of your lungs.

“Goddammit Bryan! You broke my heart!” You turned your back to him and roughly opened the fridge to grab something for yourself to drink. You used the tip of your nail to open the can of soda. “You think you can waltz in here on your bike, looking good…because damn, you do look so good… say these things and have me pretend like what happened never happened? You were an asshole!” You shout as you pivoted back to face him. And instead you came face to face with him. Your mind flashed back to your initial run-in with him – the start of everything. Your eyes welled with tears.

“I was.”

A tear escaped your eye. Bryan used the pad of his thumb to wipe it away and you bowed your head slightly, in near defeat.

“I think you love me too.” Bryan replied softly, cupping your chin to face him. “I feel fairly certain that there is still something between us. I know that you're angry. You have every right to be. I fucked up.”

You didn’t respond.

“I miss you. I've missed you. You should know that. I lie in bed at night and I think about us, I think about all of our time together. I should have told you how I felt. How I feel.” Brian continued.

You jutted your chin out of his grasp. “Don’t. You don’t get to do this to me.” You scanned your apartment. “I have to finish packing.”

You turned to move past Bryan, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you flush against him. You had a sense of déjà vu . The last time you were this physically close to Bryan, he kissed you hard and you smacked him in response. The kiss this time was deliberately soft. Bryan’s cologne overwhelmed your senses. You pressed yourself, leaning up to return the kiss. Bryan groaned as your tongue swirled around his and he wrapped his arms around your waist. It was so easy to get caught up into the kiss and to lose yourself in the passion.

You forced yourself to break the kiss. You looked up at Bryan, searching his green eyes. Tears streaked your cheeks. “I’m sorry Bryan. I can’t. I… just don’t know if I can trust you anymore. You treated me like shit for no reason.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Please.” Bryan near begged. “We can work this out. Please don’t leave. Give me a chance.” His voice cracked.

You shook your head. “No. I’ve got to move on. Please leave.”

Bryan’s face, once somber, turned stoic. He cleared his throat. “Fine. Good luck with the move.” His voice was clipped and inwardly you winced.

You walked Bryan out and shut the door behind him with a click. For good measure, you made sure to bolt the door. You watched him get on his motorcycle from your window and as he kicked it into gear, you burst into tears.

Because Bryan was right. You were in love with him.

Days later, the last of the movers had packed your boxes in their truck. You reached into your pocket and left your copy of the key on the breakfast bar. You checked your phone to make sure your boarding pass was loaded. It was and you used the opportunity to check into your flight.

There was a knock on the door. “Ms. Y/L/N?”

You jumped, startled. Turning around, you eyed the delivery man. “That is me. Can I help you?”

The delivery man smiled in relief. “Oh good. I managed to catch you before you left. I have a delivery from a Mr. Kneef.”

You frowned. “Okay. Let me get my wallet to tip you.”

“No need, already taken care of.” The delivery man replied. He set the bag on the breakfast bar, by your key. You wished him well and then turned to the small delivery bag.

In it, was a box of English toffee from Cora Lee. It was your favorite candy that only came around during firm victories. You wondered how he knew - but at the same time, it didn’t surprise you that he knew. In addition, there was a long red box from Cartier, which contained a delicate diamond tennis bracelet.

There was also a note.

NYC is so lucky to have you.

Yours – always.

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