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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Wasted 1

Warnings: drug dealing/use, violence, noncon, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

Part of The Club AU

The lights smear in your vision, music pulsing through your body, senses both dulled and magnified by the alcohol. You sway and rock to the rhythm, like a puppet dancing on unseen strings. You let the night guide you, shrugging off the stress as you let drunken ambivalence take over.

You drain the last of your vodka and tap the plastic cup. You signal to Faye and Heidi that you need a refill, offering to get them one in another gesture. Heida shakes her head, showing her unfinished cooler and Faye gives an eager nod. You wink and whirl away, weaving between the bodies that crowd you.

You leave your empty cup on a random table and hope down the single step from the dance floor. You cross over to the glowing bar and sidle up between two other patrons as you wave to the bartender. It’s busy and the voices of those clustered around the counter nearly overwhelm the bassy music.

You're a bit unsteady, a bit buzzed. You feel good and you want to hold onto that. Forget the world, burn it all.

As you try to get the attention of the burly blonde mixing drinks behind the bar, you’re caught in the crush of the impatient club goers. A man bulls in next to you, keeping his back to you as he forces you close to the stool on your other side. What a dick. Totally oblivious.

You stare at the wide shoulders that stretch the dark fabric of a bomber jacket beneath his short ponytail. Typical.

“Hey, what can I get you?” The bartender taps your arm, still floating above you, forgotten.

“Oh, uh, vodka cran and er… gin and soda,” you holler above the raucous noise.

The man goes to work and you fish around in your wallet for a bill. You should really not be spending all your money like this. You look up and watch him pour the drinks, blond strands coming loose from his low bun. His button-up is undone to the middle of his chest. He must get killer tips. Hmm, bartending might be a good idea for a new gig.

The man beside you shifts on his heel, further smothering you. You keep your arm firm until your elbow jabs in his back. You wish he’d get the fucking hint. Did he just come over here to have a fucking conversation? Go somewhere else.

You pay for the drinks and leave a tip. The blond man grins at you. He’s pretty damn cute but a bit too busy for your liking. You grab the cups and slowly raise them over the lip of the bar. The man to your right turns and his arm hits yours, the vodka exploding across your front. You look down at your shimmery dress and gasp, a spritz of cold liquid up your neck.

“What the hell, dude? Why don’t you watch where you’re fucking going?” You shout and drop the empty cup on the bar, “FUCK!”

The guy looks at you and scowls. He wipes a spray of alcohol from his sleeve as if you did it on purpose. What the hell is his problem?

“You owe me a drink, jackass," you sneer at the stranger.

His dark hair is drawn back from his face, a scruff of stubble along his chiseled jaw, and bright blue eyes. He's not half-bad on the eyes, if not a total asshole.

“Whatever,” he waves you off as he steps away from the bar.

What? He didn’t even fucking order anything and now you’re covered in wasted vodka! You shake your head and turn back to the bar, once more waving for attention.

“Napkins?” You call out.

It takes a few tries before the bartender gets back to you. He approaches and reaches under the bar, handing over a stack of napkins.

“Everything okay?” He calls over as he works on uncapping a bottle.

“Some guy ran into me,” you roll your eyes.

“Shit, let me make you a new one. No charge.”

“No, it’s fine–”

“No big deal, busy night,” he insists before spinning to grab some smirnoff and some juice.

With your new drink in hand, you carefully back away. You look around before you turn, overly aware of every move and the chaos all around. Maybe you shouldn’t have another drink. Shit is getting real wild.

You make your way back up to the dance floor, balancing your drinks with a considerable effort. Your focus breaks only as you approach Faye and Heidi, handing over the gin before greedily sipping your vodka. Fuck your job and fuck that dude at the bar.

You knock back almost half the drink in a single gulp and fall back into the beat thrumming from the speakers. You spin with your cup held high, sipping as you bop and swing your hips. Your boss ruined your day but no one is going to ruin your night.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #wasted #au #drabble #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #mcu #marvel #avengers #winter soldier

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sword-and-stars · 4 years

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Ok! What We're Given and A Breath of Fresh Air 👏

What We’re Given

1. Mochi‘s favorite food is cran-cherries, and she will sniff them out of anyone’s pockets.

2. Zuko complains endlessly about disliking tea but that’s simply a cover for the fact that leaf juice has grown on him and he’s furious about it. He’ll never really like the floral blends that Uncle prefers, but he very much enjoys spice or fruit teas. (He’d rather die than admit it but whenever he feels lonely or like he needs some Iroh-brand serenity, he always goes for jasmine tea. Uncle would never let him forget it if he knew.)

3. Sokka wears his Appa socks to bed all the time. “If I wear them in shoes, they’ll get smelly!” is what he gives as his excuse, but the truth is that his feet get cold and they’re the softest and warmest things he owns.

4. The old lady in To Take Pride has some very strong suspicions that what she’s selling is 100% not mink-alpaca, but it spins up and knits so nicely and sells so well that she’d be stupid to run off the pretty young man who sells it to her at such a reasonable price by interrogating him.

5. Even now that he’s gotten his bending back to normal, Zuko still uses knitting as a type of meditation. It’s good for his mental health, good for his chakras, AND somebody gets a sweater out of it. (Speaking of sweaters, the first one that Zuko finishes is for Iroh’s birthday. The man still wears it sometimes, even though the sleeves are slightly uneven and the yoke is a little whackadoo.)

A Breath Of Fresh Air

1. Sokka expects Zuko to be way better at the fancypants royal politicking than mingling with the regular people and he is so so so wrong. This is proven when, after a day of being annoyed by bootlickers, Zuko stomps his way down to a bar by the docks, throws the door open and hollers at the top of his lungs “WHO THE SHIT CAN GET ME A FUCKING DRINK AROUND HERE?” And all of these burly blue-collar working dudes just immediately fall in love with this snarly, sweary ambassador. A man of the fucking people. Sokka is shooketh.

2. Half of the jobs that Fire Lord Uncle assigns the two of them are unsubtle encouragement to get Zuko to relax. “It will be good for morale if you and Ambassador Sokka show up and commemorate the opening of the Lotus Spa to the caldera, and here are two vouchers for full service for each of you, HAVE FUN.” Sokka realizes this immediately. Zuko takes a little bit.

3. It takes a really long time to be able to have a real, serious discussion about Zuko eventually becoming Fire Lord when he’s ready. The first time Iroh broaches the subject, Zuko shuts right the fuck down into full Do Not Engage mode, and it’s Really Really Bad. Iroh learns very quickly to not start any sort of discussion with the phrase “we need to talk”.

4. Sokka 100% only realizes this in the future and not at the time, but the moment he falls in love with Zuko is the first time a kid runs up to him in the street (extremely stressed out and panicky parent running behind them) and instead of getting annoyed or frustrated, Zuko just scoops the kid and talks to them for a few minutes, while Sokka’s in charge of calming down Mom. It’s the first time that Sokka really gets an opportunity to see that gentle kindness, out for everyone to see and not hidden behind a veneer of tough love, and it takes a while before he realizes why it makes his heart twist.

5. Jee comes really close to throwing one of Kuei’s generals over the deck for making shady comments about Zuko behind Fire Lord Iroh’s back. As in, he literally has him dangling over the rail when Iroh shows up, assesses the situation, and strongly implies that if a word of this gets reported to Kuei, he’ll wish he’d gotten thrown into the sea. The generals are very, very polite after that.

#shove it up my ask #ficblogging #atla #what we’re given #a breath of fresh air

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babyleclerc · 6 years

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Winter Wonderland

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Style: One-Shot

Prompt?: From @spider--bae: "if you try stealing the whipped cream off of my hot chocolate again i swear i will stab you with a candy cane" best!friends with Christopher Robert Evans”

Warnings: Mild (I think?) language, but otherwise just fun fluff!

Word Count: 1K

Summary: There’s no better way to spend Christmas Eve than with your best friend, Chris Evans. Hilarity ensues while Chris attempts to make Christmas decorations. Wonderful, feelgood, holiday fluff.

A/N: Welcome to Day 1 of my 7 day 1K story a day challenge! :) Before I officially kick this challenge week off, I want to say THANK YOU to all of you who made requests, anon or not!!! It means so much to me that you would take the time to request me to write something, and also that you guys are actually going to sit there and read this content. It honestly BLOWS. ME. AWAY. In total I got 26 fic requests, and obviously I’m only writing 7 :( so I’m very sorry in advance if your prompt isn’t chosen. They were all so good they were hard to choose from! But enough of my ranting, please please sit back, relax, and enjoy the first fic of the week! (Not my gif!)

Snow was falling outside - not the kind that made you feel like you needed an umbrella to protect yourself from the heavy flakes, but the soft kind. The kind that made you swear you could hear it falling even though it was dead silent against the night.

Classical Christmas music played softly throughout the house, and the kitchen smelled like a mix of candy canes, sugar cookies, and buttered popcorn. You sighed, eyes resting on the burly man in front of you, who was leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed. His traditional fitted red Christmas sweater made his biceps appear so much bigger than you’d remembered. (Then again, he had been gaining muscle since filming had resumed for the Infinity War movies.) He was handsome; no doubt about that. The way his blonde hair fell lazily against the right side of his face, his crystal blues softened against his red sweater. You sighed again, pulling your mug of hot chocolate closer to you for warmth, inhaling deeply and tucking your legs underneath you.

Since you could remember, this is how your Christmas Eves had always been. A fire in the fireplace, music in the background, sugar cookies and hot cocoa with the man you trusted most in the world. It was so reassuring to know that no matter what, you could always come back to this. This was safe for you, this was safe for him; regardless of anything else happening in the outside world. The thought alone made your nerves tingle just the slightest.

“What are all the sighs for, muffin?” Chris asked, pulling you out of your reverie. You studied him, taking your time answering as he attempted to shove his needle and thread through a piece of popcorn. You smiled slightly at the use of his pet name for you; a name he had called you throughout childhood.

“Just happy.” You responded, not feeling the need to let him in on your intimate thoughts. “Chris?”

“Yes?” He asked, one brow furrowed as he attempted to stab the needle into a cranberry, nearly missing his finger in the process.

“You ever think this is how life would turn out? Like, all those years ago when we used to sit here and make predictions - is this where you thought you’d be?”

Chris glanced up at you, making a face. “Did I know I’d be Captain America? Definitely not.”

“Ew, don’t say it like that.” You laugh, whacking him in the shoulder. “That’s not really what I meant, ass. I more meant life in general.”

Chris shrugged, setting down the needle and picking up his string of popcorn and cranberries to admire his work. “Needs more cranberries.” He mumbled, jumping up and grabbing a handful from the bag on the counter. “I dunno, I mean, my present right now is Cap. Not in an arrogant way it’s just, a lot of who I am is from that role, so. It’s kind of hard to think about where I’d be if I hadn’t landed it. And where I’d go without it.” He sat back down, setting his handful of cranberries on the table.

You nodded, watching again as he nearly missed his thumb with the needle, jabbing another cranberry. “It’s a miracle you’ve made it this long with those fingers still in tact.” You commented, more to yourself than to him.

Chris laughed, “Oh, stop it. I do it just to torture you.”

“Seriously, though, like, I’m shocked I’m not blind with the way you throw that needle around.”

Chris blessed you again with his laugh, throwing his head back. “I don’t see you doing much better, Missy.”

You shrugged, “I’ve never understood the point of those things. It’s just popcorn and cranberries...on a string.”

“It’s a tradition!” Chris bellowed, merrily swinging around his cran-Popcorn string. You laughed at his childhood whimsy, shaking your head.

“You’re ridiculous.” You say, setting your mug of hot cocoa down on the table. “But you’re running low on popcorn. Want me to make some more?”

Chris nodded, “Please. I’ll make a few more so that I can hang them on your tree.”

“Do that and I’ll shoot you.” You say over your shoulder, tearing open the bag of popcorn. “I saw that.”

Chris grinned, setting your mug of cocoa down after a quick sip. “Saw what? You don’t have your glasses on. You’re blind.”

“I’m not Velma from Scooby-Doo. I can see without my glasses.” You deadpanned, shooting him a look.

Chris’s hearty laugh rang through the house again as he clutched his chest - his signature, one of a kind, made the girls melt, kind of laugh. You couldn’t help the small smile on your face as you threw the popcorn in the microwave, setting the timer.

“And I saw that!” You say again, scowling as Chris peered up at you from your mug, whipped cream just on the tip of his nose. “Seriously, Evans?! You have your own right next to you!”

“But it’s cold now.” He pouted, your mug still in his hands. “Yours is so warm. And delicious.” He grinned up at you.

“Uh, I have this thing called a microwave. Use it, you dork.” You extended your hand out, gesturing towards the mug.

“Yours is better.” He stuck his tongue out to start licking the remaining whipped cream from the top of your mug.

You lunge towards him, but he was quick - his left forearm protected his hot cocoa from you, barring against your waist and holding you back. He laughed again, eyes shining with glee.

“Christopher Robert Evans!” You glared, huffing, “If you try stealing the whipped cream off of my hot chocolate again, I swear I’ll....” you looked around the room for a weapon, zeroing in on your target. “I’ll stab you with a candy cane!” You finished lamely, reaching for one that lay on the table.

There was a pause as your words hung in the air, and then Chris howled with laughter again. After a few seconds, he finally set your mug back on the table. “Alright, Alright. I surrender.” He says, lifting his hands up as a peace offering. “No more hot chocolate stealing.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still clutching the candy cane and poking it into his chest gently. “Swear?”

Chris grinned, looking from the candy cane up to you, those blue eyes shining like only they could. “Scout’s honor, muffin.”

Fin.

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