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imnotsimpingyouare · 11 months

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ENAMORED

Modern Hatengu clones X Reader

Featuring:

"Pissed Cubicle Worker" Sekido

"Depressed Programmer" Aizetsu

"That Guy in the Alley" Karaku

"Unfunny Youtube Prankster" Urogi

"Disappointed Grandpa" Hantengu

"Delinquent Middle Schooler" Zohakuten

"Possibly a Criminal" Akaza

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

You will NOT be shipped with Zohakuten or Hantengu because

A.) One is an old man

B.) One is a young boy

Ty for your time 😌

Basically fem!Y/N gets employed as a maid for this house of actual lunatics and one normal but depressed guy. I have no clue what I'm doing, no clue when this will end, NO CLUE IF THERE WILL BE NSFW? Idk. Goodbye.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

On this fine morning, the sun is rising, the birds are chirping, and all throughout the neighborhood, the peaceful blanket of sleep covers every resident.

Except for Aizetsu.

Yes, this lovely boy relishes in the cold, calm mornings... he can stroll about freely with his cup of coffee, take a warm shower, and get himself ready for the day. He can enjoy the peace and quiet (he's gained immunity to Urogi's snoring) that he only gets once in a blue moon. For around thirty minutes each morning, this is Aizetsu's life...

...until the clock strikes 7:00.

How sad is it that in one moment, this boy's contentedness can be ruined?

Here are the stats for 7:00 each morning:

4 alarms go off.

2 groans are heard.

1 fit of maniacal laughter is heard.

1 alarm clock violently hits the wall.

1 old man tosses in his covers and puts his earplugs in.

1 Aizetsu's happiness is ruined.

And just like that, the morning had begun.

Zohakuten darts out of his room like a madman, running to the pantry.

"WHERE. IS. THE CEREAL." He snarls like some kind of vicious beast, pointing a scrawny finger at Aizetsu.

"...I–"

"I BET YOU ATE IT ALL, DIDN'T YOU?" The boy once again accused.

"...I–"

Angry stomping was coming from the other direction. Turning his head, Aizetsu came face to face with his brother, whose hair resembled a tumbleweed, stomping barefooted towards them. "Shut the fuck up and GET READY FOR SCHOOL! YOU'RE GONNA LEARN SOME SHIT TODAY!"

Zohakuten ran off to his room, but not before grabbing the cereal bars out of the pantry. Yes, the whole box. A trail of crumbs were left behind him as he barreled towards his room. Did he take off the wrapper? No one knows. Did he even take the cereal bars out of the box? Don't ask me.

Sekido huffed, slipping his house shoes on and plopping down on the sofa. "Little tyke takes too damn long in the morning. What's he making himself presentable for, huh?"

"...I–"

Dark-toned hands dug into the arms of the sofa. "I swear, if that kid comes home one day with a little girlfriend, I'm gonna rip someone's head off."

Aizetsu only sighed in response. What's the point of trying to get a word in?

Suddenly laughing was heard in Urogi's room. Not a moment later there he was, already dressed for his day of "production" holding his camera in the air. Urogi slinked in Aizetsu's direction, giving the camera all the worst possible angles of his poor brother. "Say hi to the vlog, 'Zetsu!"

"Zetsu" could only sip his coffee, hoping that if he ignores his brother, he'll despawn or something. That was not the case.

"Hey 'Zetsu? Did you know that if your hand is bigger than your face, your IQ is lower than room temperature?"

Now... when Aizetsu wakes up in the morning, he's not... as clever as he usually is.

Actually, maybe he is after his coffee, but I don't think he has the energy yet to stop what's about to happen.

"No Urogi, I didn't know that." He deadpans, raising his hand up to his face... all the while Urogi's smile is transforming from cute and bubbly to that of Satan himself.

As soon as his hand is lined up with his nose..

WHAP

CRASH

Aizetsu's coffee is on the floor, as is the mug which once contained it. His nose hurts, he feels like an idiot, he wants to die. Urogi cackles and runs away like a 3 year old.

Somewhere on the other side of the house, Karaku is doing his "skincare routine" with 30 different products and his hair twisted up in hair curlers.

This is life in the Hantengu Household.

○○○○○

On the other side of town, you're already wide awake, as your job starts at the crack of dawn.

What do you do? You clean!

You work for Murata's Service Emporium, a company that hires people to do all kinds of things for clients, from mowing lawns to sweeping chimneys. Why is this important?

It's not. You hate your job.

Clean clean clean clean clean. You hate cleaning. It's a chore to clean your own tiny apartment because it's like you have PTSD from cleaning. The callouses on your hands are to show for that.

Day to night, that's all you do, and you don't even get to see the client's reaction to your amazing work.

You. Hate. Your. Job.

But you're still one of the best maids the company has hired. Why? You're a perfectionist. You're not going to leave spots of dirt and dust. You work hard to earn your tips.

Well, the ones you do get. No one tips maids anyway.

Soon to start another day at work, you put on your clothes and grab your keys. 2 cups of coffee is enough for you to feel okay this morning, but you could have used another one.

Maybe if you'd had another one, you wouldn't have tripped and fallen down the stairs. Maybe a few more after that, and you wouldn't have picked yourself up only to fall down the second flight of stairs.

God, how bad can this day get?

At least, that's what you were thinking, when a hand was extended to you. Looking up, there was a man with short black hair and rather prominent eyelashes standing infront of you. You took his hand. He pulled you up to his height.

"I saw you take both those sets of stairs. Are you... okay?" He spoke, not yet letting go of your hand, but it didn't bother you that much.

"Ummmmmm... I only had 2 cups of coffee this morning. 3 is the bare minimum for me."

Getting a closer look at him, you could see he had some tattoos around his forearms. In fact, they reminded you of criminal tattoos. Are you holding the hand of a criminal?

No, no way! This guy couldn't be some kind of evil, bloodthirsty, evil, donut-making..

He cleared his throat, interrupting your thoughts. "Well, I hope you have a good day, Ma'am. I'm leaving for work now, so I'll see you later?" He says, smiling at you and releasing your hand.

"..yeah. That sounds good."

He laughs before walking away, presumably to his car.

Are you stupid? What are you doing? You're gonna be late!

You rush to your car, hoping you're fast enough. It'll be your third offense, and you can't get fired from this job. How else will you pay the bills? How will you buy groceries? Clothes? You slam the gas and go over the limit until you see your arch nemesis ahead, blocking your path like a giant wall.

A red light.

God dammit.

○○○○○

"Y/N!" A deep voice yells from across the hall. You look over, just a few steps into the building, and see your boss, fuming.

He stops over to you, crossing his arms. "Why are you late again? The first client you're assigned to has a big task! What are you doing dilly-dallying?"

"I–"

He puts a hand up to hush you.

"Y/N.. this is not your first time doing this! How can you expect anyone to view you as reliable when this is how you do your job. Ugh." He scowls. "Listen, we don't have anyone to cover you. Just.. do the job, and go home. Got it?"

Your heart stopped. "...go home?"

His eyes burned into yours, threatening to swallow you hole. "As in no more Y/N. As in turn in your uniform. How else do you want me to say it?"

You were stunned. He only scoffed, prancing away from you like some kind of doe.

Oh God.

You just got fired.

What are you supposed to do?

Who's gonna take you?

How are you gonna find work in a town like this?

The thoughts zooming through your head stop only when you view the client's last name on your written schedule, posted on the wall infront of you.

Hantengu.

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chromatophorica · 2 years

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sigh.

man. i hope u folx never need to deal with actual honest to god racism in ur lives, cause i think it might actually kill u on the spot.

genuinely tho. last thing i’m saying about this whole saga and then i’m saving us all by deleting anything u come to my ask box with cause omg i feel like i might actually be all that keeps u productive by stopping engaging with u. or i could hire a robot to fight with u i guess. i bet it’d be the same response.

anyway; i’ve stated a few times that my issue with the ppd line isn’t solely chim (scroll dooooown) but y’all are circling it around to ‘he’s asian and they’re saying bad things so they are a racist’ (genuinely, hope u don’t meet a racist, it’s disgusting and it’s certainly not gentle ‘this person did this wrong’ when it’s racism) but i still tagged it ‘anit-chim’ so that people who didn’t want to read something where chim is held to his canon actions (remember, this is 5.02, aggression is never mentioned, if anything, chimney is passive af in this cause he’s talking not swinging) and a psa was made about ‘not including my work’, which i accepted because freedom of speech (which apparently is also racist if i’ve read that right?) which means the person can exclude whatever they want from this public event meant to focus on the siblings and not on their significant others but i digress (i might be being racist again because i’m not including a coc and a potential shipper coc or just a woman i apparently self insert? still confused on that matter).

i was then told that only doug kendall can possibly be the bad person and how dare white savior be used (despite this literally being about two siblings who are white and one of the prompts is literally how the save each other but who am i to ask for some kind of consistency in this matter!) and that i really shouldn’t use chimney and his canon actions (again, 5.02, not like what... 5.05 was it? fuck idk they’ve blended together cause man was 5a a cluster bomb of wtf).

so i’m not being included in a public event because my work is (apparently) racist (possibly even those things i wrote before i wrote that one they didn’t like which they had no problem reblogging, maybe i hid my racism while writing about that cute little baby or that time the guy i apparently was literally the non-white savior? idk confusion. not consistent at all) and they don’t want to ‘promote’ it? idk i don’t come here to promote much, this is the most i’ve ever used my blog, i honestly forget i have it a lot. tumblr is kinda rabid y’know.

now i will say, whatev. don’t reblog, block me, ignore me, it’s all whatever at the end of the day. however when you remove someone’s comments to you and only allow people to see what you are saying, it creates a kind of vibe. you know. like a conservative-right republican vibe where if you hide what the other side is saying... they’re not saying it?

in closing (and damn idk if i even said everything i came to say, cause this disaster fire is still confusing) call me racist all you want; i know i’m not, i know the people who know me know i’m not (although thanks for reading my fic and totally agreeing with your friend who you’re 100% not biased for or anything, that single hit meant the world to me) and most of the people who read my fic and see the manner in which the character is portrayed (cough-canonly-cough) (again, still 5.02 so it has nothing to do with that other canon thing that i’m not even touching at this point)(might do it tomorrow, i haven’t yet decided, my spite it being drained by the soft gentle love of a kitty) my spite is not so that anyone will read my work. or that you’ll need to see it in your blogs.

my spite thrives in knowing, i can write my silly little fic, i can be a total spoon and make it *the worst* characterisation in the history of tumblr or ao3 (and i think i’d deserve an award for that), and i can come along in here, and post it and tag it *correctly* so that no one is surprised when they enter it, so that no one is like ‘omg i didn’t see this coming this author is so rude not tagging their shit’ and it’s gonna sit there. in your event. with the tag you hate so vehemently that you started a very stupid little squabble about it.

and i just got my daily writing goal. neat.

#fandom discourse #anons up in my hoohaa #legit idk if these people are watching the same show as me #can i get their cut?#ps yes i do support not-evil jonah #cause god how boring is it to have another lame ass white guy being the villain #like shit #they do know other people aspire to villain hood right #it don't always gotta be the dumbass white guy having some evil master plan #it's gonna take someone a hell of a lot more cunning to get one over on athena fucking grant

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c03xistentw01 · 6 months

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ayo i goooootta write i gootata write.

Its kinda embarrassing now idk what to say. so today when it was raining and i was walking in portello towards mensa with michele and we were both under the same umbrella guess whom i saw yes ofc the one i always see alone when im with michele: Giorgio. He always has this worried/upset look that I think stems from a lack of friends to hang out with on a saturday night. He seems quite harmless tho. anyway.

during lunch michele kept asking me about traditional ways of eating/dining in iran. he was like so do u guys have actual traditional meals i was like yea there are like stews with rice. he was like so is it just that? how about desserts? how about drinking coffee after/before meal? how about aperitivo before a meal? what are the products that we here in italy imported from "your country"? at some point he was like so yea this one time i was out i had this saffronish dessert with some marmelatta on top of it or he also said one time (or maybe some time when he goes out for eating) he might order some pasta and idk tbh? i lowkey felt like after the dessert thing he kinda expected me to be like so yea btw where was that one place to went to for the saffronish dessert? and he would like oh yea it was xxx i be like oh damn fr? he be like yea fr if u want we can go together once and and and andd....wow. people are actually patient with what they want? like are we sure that they exist? [yes. u just saw one today.] so like.....people don't just give u a poem they wrote for u 2 weeks ago on the first time of hanging out? like oh bro fr? deymn brother.

i miss you. ehem ehem.

anyway. i went to the lab afterwards. but no.

before that i went to math and it was a rainy day. at the entrance i saw soldier looking at his broken umbrella with so much confusion. swinging the bare empty handle in the air. all accompanied with so much confusion. the whole time i was looking at him i was about to throw up cuz he so damn adorable its unbelievable.

after that i went to lab and after making myself promise that when stefano was like yes for the meeting "absolutely" I'll be there today in the lab, it means that he would "absolutely" be there so imma wait until as late as it can get just to get answers. and i did and i was blessed with his emergence. he had his umbrella or hat or sth in his hand. he said "hiiii" with a really lovely tone tbfr and was like "i put this (pointed at this hat/umbrella) for a second then I'll come back" and he legit did come back in a second. he came and sat next to me and bro has zero notion of personal distance (which ehem ehem tbfr? kinda um? kinda um felt kinda um? NoIcEEEehemhehmhem?) anyway bro legit came sit like a hurricane and got too close his legs were touching mine and imagine me who's always overwhelmed over simple fucking existence of mere beings, was trying to run the fucking tiago shit. which i did in the end. tbr at first i tried to move away my legs away a bit because i was like maybe he did it cuz he dont have enough space left so i did it move my legs away but my BRO IT DID NOT WORK? so then i thought ok maybe if i continue doing it he be thinking this one lil weirdo is doing wtf? so i stopped and tried to focus on the tiago shit. i dont remember much more. he was like ok do this do that he gave me the big image of my thesis once more in detail and then said something like that what u achieved until now with moving the whole robot and shit is good and all dont panic and all u aint no behind my child. and was like the lil reports u send every now and then are good keep doing those they will come in hand when u wanna write the thesis itself. and bro. when we were talking while seated, i felt weird about his head. like his head and hands looked way bigger when up close. and also eyes ehem eheme ehemehere. i couldn't tell whether they green or brown or hazel.

yea that was it. lowkey intense. u can use that as the starting point for a future hentai plot.

also on the way out i almost bumped into daniel (fusaro). he said oh scusa...ciao!!! (cuz he saw me leaving) i said ciao but then i saw him bumping into the open window and dropping his notebook on the floor i turned back and was looking at him he said a posto i smiled he left. u know what i like? the fact that he felt the need to reassure me that it/he era a posto. man how much i liked that.

[update]: HELP. my virgin-ass has not been having it AT ALL OK? I can so NOT pretend like I did not get turned on. ok? I've legit had 4 0rga3mz in the last 36 hours and I'm just...helpless. I was trying my best not to google you. AND not to daydream which i successfully FAILED at both. so apparently u were doing your [continuous?] master's at Polimi from 2011 until 2017 so that makes you 31/2ish? you went to EPFL and ETH Zurich ... oh fuck it. i just learned on my intensive Facebook cyberstalking journey that you are in a relationship (and seem to have been since around 2011ish?) and tomorrow when i regain my emotional strength I'll get back here (i go die slowly, thinking of how you were playing table tennis naked).

anyway. what i mainly wanted to say is that the fact that you were so comfortable being physically close to me stems from (as a result of at least 48 hours of intensive deep analytical-hierarchical reasoning) the fact that you are so highly sure of YOURSELF that it can not possibly even BEGIN TO MEAN anything to you. While me, on the other hand, was so acutely unsure of myself that i kept keeping my distance. but hey, it could be worse. I will still have (hopefully) such small physical interactions that well, as we all know by now, can not mean shit to you and to me, they have the full potential to brighten up even just a bit, this current doom and gloom era of my life. I think I do feel privileged to entitle myself to seek (not desperately) this occasional pleasure. To not essentially feel the closeness, but to notice myself enjoying the satisfaction of adoring you under the hood. [update]: I was so sad a while back i wanted to be shredded to pieces and vanish into thin air. I wanna let go of fear so bad but the more you try to run away from it the more it catches you instead. Ethical or fucking not, we are declared fully free to think whatever thought we want right? This weekend I felt loved and thrilled to the core. I felt loved because I felt like I could simulate what it could be like to receive it from you. I kept tweaking the parameters in my head to align my imagination with the "most probable" scenario. It was an oscillatory stochastic process but it was worth it, i enjoyed the short ride, with "you". The memories of the brief frenzy still smoothens my ever-shaky soul, puts it at ease. oh man. how many times did i imagine kissing you or nervously running my fingers on your neck grabbing your waste and feeling my legs between yours but above all, how many times did I try to make myself feel "accepted" by you? enough times i bet. no matter how free we appear to be in our own "mind castles", I was still way too unsure to give in to my vulnerabilities with you. Although I did not deprive myself from feeling like I'm a kite being flown by you. Keep flying me don't let go of the leash can't get enough of the height or the wind or the view oh the view for sure most of all . .

... scusa ma ho troppo sonno ok

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deadcactuswalking · 2 years

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 14/05/2022 (Jack Harlow’s ‘Come Home The Kids Miss You’, Kendrick Lamar’s “The Heart Part 5″)

“As it Was” by Harry Styles is #1 for a sixth week, and we do have a pretty damn busy week here, thanks in part to Jack Harlow, so bear with me on this one: welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

There are 13 new arrivals, most of which I’m sure deserve some kind of special attention, so I’ll genuinely try and cut the chase, but it may just be a long one, folks. Okay, well, let’s start where we always start: the notable dropouts – songs exiting the UK Top 75, which is what I cover – after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40 and, my God, it’s a bloodbath. I’ll just run through them in order of weeks spent: exiting this week are “Good Luck” by Mabel, Jax Jones and Galantis, “Sweetest Pie” by Megan Thee Stallion and Dua Lipa (feels premature), “Finesse” by Pheelz and BNXN, “Come & Go” by ArrDee, “Glad U Came” by Liilz featuring ZieZie, “TO THE MOON” by Jnr Choi and Sam Tompkins, even with all of the remixes, “Another Love” by Tom Odell, “Easy on Me” by Adele, “good 4 u” by Olivia Rodrigo and finally, as is routine, “Levitating” by Dua Lipa. Yet somehow “Mr. Brightside” is still here, go figure.

As for our notable gains – songs up five positions from last week – as well as returning entries, well, it’s a big new arrival week, so not much to speak of, but we did have some movement, with “Bad Life” by Sigrid and Bring Me the Horizon returning to #74 thanks to her #2 album, as well as healthy gains for “low down” by venbee and Dan Fable at #59, “21 Reasons” by Nathan Dawe featuring Ella Henderson at #56, “All for You” by Cian Ducrot at #49, “Je M’appelle” by Benzz at #34, “Green Green Grass” by George Ezra at #31 and “Big Energy” by Latto at #21.

There’s even some action in the top five, which for this week – from bottom to top – consists of “Starlight” by Dave, “About Damn Time” by Lizzo rushing up to #4 and becoming her highest charting hit yet, and then the usual: “Go” by Cat Burns, “First Class” by Jack Harlow and of course, “As it Was”. Now for me to talk about some music from last Friday that didn’t chart but isn’t any lesser for it as we go Off the Charts.

Off the Charts

A Bit of Previous – Belle and Sebastian

Okay, I really WILL keep it brief this time, I promise. I haven’t heard nearly enough of Belle and Sebastian but this newest album made me a lot less excited to run into that discography, as their jangly indie pop interplays with songwriting that’s just not compelling. It’s like they churn out a formula through an AI and occasionally, a pretty good-sounding song comes out but nothing apart from a few tracks here is doing anything for me. My favourite track is “Sea of Sorrow”.

Simple. – IDK

This is a 20-minute album put together with some of KAYTRANADA’s stiffest production, and even that is wasted by a Kanye-esque flow delivering content not really worth speaking of. The best track here is “Dog Food”, mostly because of how effortlessly Denzel Curry shows who really should be rapping over KAYTRA beats. It’s not bad, but it could have been good.

We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong – Sharon Van Etten

This is another example of a discography I’m entering from probably the entirely wrong place, but this is kind of fascinating to me: it’s a series of singer-songwriter ballads that do feel like the singer and songwriter have both melted compared to the instrumentation, which can be as gorgeous as it can be a dirge – and I kind of really like that, even if the tracks do tend to run together as a result. I’m really not sure on this yet – maybe with more listens and checking out the rest of her discography, this’ll click more, or even less, but for now it seems like a bit of an oddity, even if it is a good listen. My favourite track is “I’ll Try”.

Inner Worlds – Soccer96

Now if you’re wondering why I’m talking about jazzy krautrock instead of the albums from Knucks or Jack Harlow that actually matter, well, firstly, this album’s better, and secondly, they actually impacted the chart so I’ll be talking about them regardless. Anyway, Soccer95 are a group I’m only familiar with by proxy in the form of The Comet is Coming but I was pretty astounded with how otherworldly this album felt. It’s full of improvisational dirges that split the difference between the extraterrestrial synthwork and jazzy, frenetic energy that all of the electronic elements end up succumbing to, thanks to the manic percussion that knows all too well when to take a pause, but is very willing to come in rapidly when you’re expecting a different rhythm. “Adrenalin” sets itself up as French house and smashes into territory that feels like a complete corruption of what it attempted to be. It never feels grounded, because there isn’t anything “steady” except that alienating feeling that nothing is right here, and I’m not sure if the album really gives any sense of hope towards what we like to see as an eventual reality. The record is less concerned with putting the world to rights than it is exploring the internal incapability for humans to really focus on the self, to the point where this album will elevate you to astral planes yet never fully alleviate you of what’s behind you, or most importantly below. That was a whole bunch of metaphorical nonsense to essentially say the album kind of kicks ass, using its guest features to their best – or perhaps worst – potential as they slip away and melt as easily as any sense of coherence in a muddy alien text like this. My favourite track is either the aforementioned “Adrenalin” or “Crystal Pyramid”, but everything here is great, and it’s one of my favourite albums of the year so far. Give it a listen if you’re into, well, anything weird. Now for your regularly scheduled programming...

NEW ARRIVALS

#69 – “No Excuses” – Bru-C

Produced by The Shapes

I’ve heard of Bru-C, and knew of some of his charting success below the Top 75, but this seems to be his first breakout, and I’m pretty glad that drum and bass is coming back in a big way, and I think that Bru-C does sound like the Craig David of this new wave of pop-leaning drum and bass. Sadly, I’m not particularly fussed about the song. Bru-C himself is pretty void of much charisma, even if there is some slick delivery in there, and everything he says is pretty much a hook, but the content, mostly flexing, is uninteresting and the beat doesn’t cover it enough. I like the bouncy synths and the triumphant horns separately, but they do kind of clash under the breakbeats, which don’t really drop as well as they could, and I’m never really sure if the menacing undercurrent is here on purpose. This isn’t bad, just kind of odd, maybe a bit confused and definitely a bit underdeveloped.

#67 – “Came in the Scene” – Headie One

Produced by Emz Beats and M1OnTheBeat

Do any of you remember that Headie One released an album last year? Some of it charted but Headie seems to have laid lower than I expected since his 2020 was so big, yet a lot of that has to do with the material not really clicking anymore, even if I quite like him as a rapper. I was hoping this new single would deliver and, well, I think he absolutely did, which might come as a shock considering this is pretty subtle and standard drill, as Headie raps confidently over a drill beat that sounds so much better-mixed than the usual, as the sliding 808s really add grit to that eerie blend of strings and synth loops that do sound cheap but are turned into these looming melodies that come to drag down the momentum of the track, which may be fitting for the content. Sure, there’s flexing, and I’d prefer he’d go more in-depth about this, but the commentary on how all the fans want to see “street shit” and that he’s trapped in rapping about legal cases, drugs and gang violence is that he’s still stuck facing the consequences and really, what makes him the most money is the aftermath of that experience. The man makes bank off of his own trauma, and it’s really getting to him in some of these verses, like when he questions how or if he can tell anyone to “stop the violence” – which could very well refer to both the UK streets or conflicts abroad – when he looks outside and sees conflict he could even be directly involved in. I love how on the second verse, he ends it with the nonsensical brag that he just told Drake that he listened to his song “GREECE” in Greece, before that chorus comes in and he realises that he came onto the scene with a violent approach that he can’t grapple anymore. This won’t be for everyone, especially with Headie’s more exhausted delivery, but with a good beat, a decent set of flows and content that dips into conscious territory, I can see myself going back to this, even if it won’t last long on the charts.

#66 – “MEAN!” – Madeline the Person

Produced by Jonah Shy

As opposed to Madeline the hurricane that caused heavy damage in parts of Mexico in 1976? I’d never heard of Madeline the Person until now but apparently she’s an “alt-pop newcomer” who came up off of – you guessed it – TikTok, and is now seeing some major-label backing with her breakout hit “MEAN!”, which sounds as immature as its title and cover art look. That’s not inherently a bad thing, as that toxic transparency and honest angst can be endearing... but it isn’t really here. I’m sorry, but Tate McRae sounded like an exhausted Billie Eilish, who already purposefully makes her songs sound exhausted, and this Madeline the Person person sounds like an exhausted Tate McRae, especially when the multi-tracking dips on the chorus and she hits what sounds like a really sour delivery. It doesn’t help that the production is a really basic, blocky set of almost transparent bass and percussion that barely exist over this acoustic nothingness. The content is just a pissy post-breakup song, with not really much detail to speak of – at least with less unwarranted vitriol than say, BoyWithUke – and it doesn’t make me care in the slightest. I was hoping for some more colour from this at least given the cover art but I guess we can’t even have that in our TikTok singer-songwriter line-up for this year. Joy.

#62 – “Cate’s Brother” – Maisie Peters

Produced by Joe Rubel

Maybe some even less covertly manufactured pop successes will give us something good. English singer Maisie Peters had a minor hit last year with “Psycho”, yet this new single seems to be from an upcoming second album already coming pretty soon after the last one, and whilst I wasn’t really big on “Psycho” outside of the chorus, I did have some residual hopes for this being at least okay. My first thought was that it’s kind of goofy in a pretty endearing way, with the aloof manner in which Maisie Peters admits to dating her friend’s brother over cutesy synth-rock production straight out of the late 1980s. It sounds like garbage, but is completely willing to embrace that with the jangly acoustics and pounding percussion, and Peters’ teeny-bopper voice that reminds me of twee pop from the 1990s. The chorus is all about those questions that come with dating and getting into a relationship with anyone, let alone considering the gravitas of it being her friend’s brother. I think the narrative is compelling, with an excellent and fast-paced second verse that gives some actual DETAIL for once. Yeah, I actually think I love this, because it is all-out in how it embraces pop music of old and doesn’t boil it down to an idea it can recontextualise like the 80s synthpop worship we see on the charts. This is something new for sure, but only because it takes those sharp riffs and synth noodling directly from an AOR or pop-rock record and both Peters and Rubel are willing to play with those masks fully on. This is a great song – not as great as what we’ll end up talking about for this week, as you’ll see – and I fully recommend it.

#61 – “Die Hard” – Knucks and Stormzy

Produced by AyyGeno, Venna and Knucks

I really liked Knucks’ debut album, ALPHA PLACE, which debuted at #3 on this week’s albums chart. His more chilled and jazzier take on drill feels really tight, cohesive and most importantly honest, as he tempers some of the clumsier content with a conscious effort, all tightly wrapped up in a mostly self-produced album that really endeared him to me. My favourite track from the album, which really makes me want to listen out for more Knucks going ahead, is “Three Musketeers”, but none of the tracks on that album would have been a shame to chart, and “Die Hard” is still a damn good song, with a killer bassline and a slick atmosphere that just screams 1930s gangsta noir. Knucks has a looser flow that really fits into the trap bounce that develops into a really nice jazz-rap throwback. Sure, I’d prefer some more verses from Knucks instead of the chorus being repeated that many times, but his dead-eyed exhaustion with gang paranoia is pretty fascinating, and I don’t blame him for letting Stormzy take the mic as he really does kill his verse with charisma dripping off of him and whilst there’s not a level of amazing wordplay, although some is there, I think that’d be too much for a song like this, which is ever the more harrowing by being casual and smooth. I really think that album deserves some recognition, even more than it’s already gotten so I do recommend it to any fans of UK rap who haven’t heard it already.

#55 – “Daily Duppy” – Bugzy Malone

Produced by Sound to Your Mind and 5ive Beatz

I will honestly never understand why these “Daily Duppy” freestyle videos chart. Typically, GRM Daily just takes one UK rapper and make them do a verse over some cheap beat they found – or I hope didn’t make – and whilst I can respect going off for as long as they do, they never interest me, as the content doesn’t enable much of substance to be said in only three minutes and structure is nonexistent. I’ve never liked Bugzy Malone either, probably because of how his raspier tone just contrasts with every beat he finds himself on, including this one, which is just complete ass in its compressed guitar loop and gross, blocky drums. Bugzy sounds really sloppy initially in terms of his cadence and flows, but honestly better than usual, and I do like some of the lines about having to improve your own “energy” and make steps to self-improvement rather than relying on drugs... but the flexing is boring, so until he catches the beat midway through and it starts sounding really good, even for just a little moment as his flow becomes more meandering and the drums cut out. The recurring themes in the verse I can respect, especially since the verse sounds really well constructed, and by the time he talks about the gang violence he’s witnessed, it sounds pretty dismal and his frustration is understandable... but man, this beat is awful. On better production, maybe a Knucks beat even, I think I would have given this more of a pass, but whilst I appreciate this being probably the best one of these I’ve heard chart, which is impressive coming from a rapper I don’t like, I can’t say I like this in all honesty with that beat and Bugzy struggling to really define his flow.

#53 – “Locked Out” – S-X featuring KSI

Produced by Nana Rogues, Diego Ave and S-X

So, we’re giving KSI another hit, now as a feature on friend and Sidemen associate S-X’s new single, and from what I can gather, S-X seems like more of a singer and producer than a rapper or YouTuber, as I’ve seen him credited on KSI tracks before. “Locked Out” is a pretty simple breakup song with a rote synthpop drive and... yeah, this isn’t great. Sure, the initial synth loop is pretty and lo-fi but it gets abruptly shifted into that ugly, blocky percussion that really is trying to replicate “STAY” by The Kid LAROI and Justin Bieber, even in its content, and God, S-X is overselling this, even if he would sound great in another context, but this production needs more harmony and subtlety so they can blend into the instrumental, rather than both him and KSI straining to reach an unneeded grandiosity. Those “STAY” comparisons are pretty apt as it even has a breakdown in one of the final choruses, and has the two men playing off of each other brattily... but this “Locked Out” song is just not nearly as infectious, interesting or even well-mixed. It just sounds like a cheap replica.

#51 – “Hold My Hand” – Lady Gaga

Produced by Lady Gaga and BloodPop

There’s a Top Gun sequel because, sure, and there’s a Lady Gaga ballad to accompany it because, again, sure. The writing is generic as all hell on this one, so it really does feel like a return to the days of the 80s and 90s where movie ballads were pushed out with videos for extra money and yeah, I can’t stand this. Sure, Gaga sounds great as always but she’s not working with a composition that’s actually interesting, especially with those strings that just careen over the clashing guitars and the chalky bleep-bloop excuse of a bass that seems to be the “modern” addition to a song that feels like a throwback to when authenticity in pop music was even less common, at least on these soaring #1 hits... or you know, #51 hits because there might be a market for this kind of stuff. I know damn well it’s not me or the general public.

#44 – “Something to Someone” – Dermot Kennedy

Produced by Scott Harris and Jonah Shy

If you think we’re out of ballad territory here, not only have we got this but Taylor Swift’s coming up so prepare yourselves. Trust me, Kendrick’s coming up soon and we won’t have to worry about what’s not important. My question for the producers here is why they didn’t just stick with the drowned-out acoustics that would have made for an interesting indie folk song, instead adding this unnecessary pest of a kick drum that really adds some unnecessary tension to what should be an honest chance for Kennedy to reminisce about a relationship from his youth. I guess the more driving energy could be here to make it more interesting and show how life moves on, but this just sounds watered-down and messy with all the reverb and manufactured plaster covering this. With a bit more lyrical detail, this could have absolutely worked as a ballad, but everyone involved seems convinced on overselling it, to the point of it being a real headache by the final chorus. Knowing my luck, it’ll stick around, but this is pretty bad.

#42 – “This Love” (Taylor’s Version) – Taylor Swift

Produced by Christopher Rowe and Taylor Swift

Sadly, this is not Taylor giving up on re-recording her own music and moving onto re-recording the entire Maroon 5 discography – though if I hear that Taylor Swift releases a cover of “Won’t Go Home Without You”, we may just peak as a civilisation. Instead, this is a re-recording of a track from 1989, purported to be the new “Taylor’s Version”, and a track I’ve always liked in its original form to an extent, even if I think its lovestruck sensibilities are kind of shallow. I love the blend of acoustic guitars and Taylor sounds great with the echoing multi-track on her vocals, but lyrically, apart from the callback to “Wildest Dreams”, it’s not that interesting and the gated 80’s drums really do fall flat on the mix for me. I do love that bridge, and honestly, this new version might be better in some ways, as the drums sound a bit better back in the mix... but Taylor’s more mature vocals don’t really change the recording in any way, and if they do, they make the content less convincing. The impact of the chorus and especially the bridge feel completely neutered and I’m not sure if I like the newly-emphasised deep synth percussion, but ultimately, it’s an okay song, even if I do far prefer the original. It’s the best ballad out of our little treck into snooze territory here, so I’ll give it that. Speaking of snooze territory, though...

#33 – “Dua Lipa” – Jack Harlow

Produced by Angel López, Jasper Harris, Federico Vindver, Nemo Achida, 2forwOyNE, Jack Harlow, FNZ and Rogét Chahayed

The new Jack Harlow album, Come Home The Kids Miss You, debuted at #4 on this week’s albums chart and it’s pretty bad, and not really to my surprise as I had heard terrible buzz surrounding it and I liked none of the singles. Thankfully, none of the worst songs have charted this week, as we get the two highest-performing tracks that aren’t “First Class” – we didn’t get “Like a Blade of Grass”, “Side Piece” or God forbid “Movie Star”, but what we did get wasn’t great either. First of all, much like the rest of this album, I have no idea how it took nine people to produce this, not including another co-producer and writer who are credited for this. With the amount of people in the room, everyone was okay with a rote trap beat that admittedly kind of goes hard, the painful hand clap, and some of Jack Harlow’s worst lyrics to date in barely over two minutes. On neither of these two verses does Harlow sound confident or even like he knows how to approach the beat, with really awkward flows and terrible, terrible bars. I understand that it’s a 90s rap thing to chat up R&B and pop singers on deep cuts, but there’s nothing playful here. It’s just “I want to have sex with Dua Lipa” and considering her reaction, which Harlow claimed was a “blessing” when it really did not come off that way, I don’t see this as anything more than kind of icky and gross, especially when Harlow spends the rest of the song off-topic, making a terrible attempt at wordplay with Korea that falls flat on its face because he doesn’t know how to pronounce Korean cities and engaging in European fetishism because of course. This isn’t terrible, and I understand that all artists can have their own lane, but really what is the point of this being around and “accepted” as something that’s getting streams when instead, we could have what’s coming next?

#24 – “The Heart Part 5” – Kendrick Lamar

Produced by Beach Noise

For most weeks, I write this show in order of how they debuted. It’s simple, and makes it easy for me to follow and you can see a trending theme or mood in the debuts that way. However, when something like this debuts, you’ve just got to pick your battles so I immediately started with this one, even if I really don’t know how to tackle it, and I’m not sure if I can – or really, the song works as well – without the intense and brilliant deepfake video. I’ll just explain it through, really, Kendrick’s opening lines about life being perspective, as that’s what the song and video seem to revolve around: the struggle to adapt to different perspectives, which is what Kendrick attempts to do in the video. This largely contributes to the frustration that Kendrick feels in the song: the desire for the black “culture”, “the hood” to love and recognise him because of how he came from struggle and has done so much for the culture, but finds himself increasingly detached and at times honestly disappointed with what the “culture” has led to, mostly because he’s seen with his own eyes the lives lost and damaged. There’s a dichotomy in that first verse between how the neighbourhood will stick together and help as much as it will have those sadly, deeply-ingrained plights – “murder is minor” but it’s all “culture”, and it’s damn hard not to become desensitised. This is why it doesn’t surprise him – or really anyone – when another Black man after attempting to get help from failed “halfway houses” getting money from car washes or GoFundMe accounts, is killed after a ridiculously long prison sentence, only for them to get into more trouble because rehabilitation is simply not that much of an option. It’s routine, but that’s “the culture”. Ultimately, I’m far from the person to deep-dive into this kind of content – I’m British and I review pop music – but this damn well deserves a lyrical run through by everyone who listens, especially by the time that he raps from the perspective of Nipsey Hussle and it’s just heartbreaking. Kendrick doesn’t think Nipsey would blame “the culture”, because when they confront the idea of someone who put much of his success into helping the same communities that ended up killing him, maybe that’s when “the culture” can be refocus. The song as a whole is an appeal for harmony, pleading with that Marvin Gaye sample – that I really thought no-one could flip better than Madonna and Massive Attack on their cover of “I Want You” – but I understand why one wouldn’t think that because musically, it’s confrontational and paranoid. That all comes from the manic hopelessness: something can change, but Kendrick’s just a guy and his perspective may not only differ from yours but be rendered unimportant. The disco groove – something supposed to be warm, and initially was in Marvin Gaye’s original – is just a stepping stone in Kendrick’s frustrated cadences, and of course, I could comment on the rhyme schemes and flows but it’s a given with Kendrick, and what’s even more harrowing is the murmured chorus, the heavy breathing over bass and bongos isolated from its rhythm to alienate it from everything that defined the sample initially. It’s brilliant sample work, brilliant lyricism and a really nuanced single – it makes me really happy something like this can debut at #24 outside of its home country, because it’s not just a “message song”, it’s a damn excellent song that asks you to think, and doesn’t put words in your mouth if you listen to it or really anyone else’s, even Kendrick’s, who is still confused about his own stance – hell, he even puts himself in the perspective of other people throughout the song, almost to escape giving his own thoughts because there’s no simple resolution. Obviously this is getting Best of the Week, but trust me, it’s more than just that, it’s something you NEED to listen to. In stark contrast, here’s Drake.

#19 – “Churchill Downs” – Jack Harlow featuring Drake

Produced by Federico Vindver, Ryan Bakalarczyk, Angel López, TT Audi, Ace G and Boi-1da

To be fair to Drake, and I don’t like being fair to Drake, he’s easily the best part of this song and honestly this album. “Churchill Downs” is the only track I can say I liked from it, even if Boi-1da really could have made this beat without five co-producers, and I think he probably did back in 2013. Jack Harlow does try and hold his own here, and I like his lines about how he doesn’t fit next to his labelmate Lil Uzi Vert because he’s incongruous not only in terms of race, style and approach, but also literal height, so it’s hard to stand next to him since Jack is so tall in comparison. The lyric about knowing how his grandfather would be shocked if he pulled $100,000 out and since he doesn’t want his granddad to have a heart attack, even though he could, he still wouldn’t pull $100,000 out, it’s funny and endearing as well as finally throughout this dull and insincere project feels honest. It’s not the most interesting verse and he does kiss Drake’s ass a little, but I would if I got a verse this good out of Drake. It’s far from his best, sure, and it’s absolutely not anything new, but I like his more organic style of “fame is hard” whining here that sounds straight out of Take Care. I love how he rips into the music magazines and publications acting under false pretence and the absolute mockery he makes of Jack Harlow here, when even without that much wordplay or social commentary, he comes out as way more fascinating, even in the more embarrassing lines: he gets PTSD from all his profits, he has a cohesive theme throughout his lyrics about his cold, distant – and distinctly Canadian – past contrasting with the warm, albeit likely false, recognition of his efforts by people who just want a piece of his profit. It’s the same old Drake paranoia, but the way it’s delivered here is decent and with quotable lines. The female vocal sample is pretty gorgeous under the pianos and subtle yet really hard-hitting drum programming that Drake sounds great over, even when he’s dissing Pusha T – you’re going to lose again, Aubrey! Jack Harlow’s bars feel so calculated on this track, and he never gets out of that “reading off of his phone” delivery, but Drake’s rambling feels so effortless and exhausted, even with worse vocal mixing. I’m not going to just outright quote the verse here, because there is a lot to comment on, but he goes on for more than two minutes and insanely shows up Jack, to the point where the end of the verse saying that Jack is going places feels damn near insincere. “Whips and chains like a dominatrix, if I see you, I spit in your faces: Daytona with the green faces” is just one of many viral lines from this one verse, and I think it’s a statement of Drake’s power over the public that he can deliver one verse and overshadow a man’s entire album... I mean, it helps that it sucked ass outside of this song, but still, Jack’s got to both thank Drake and hold a grudge on this man for the rest of his career.

Conclusion

With all that said, “Churchill Downs” is not close to the Best of the Week this week, as that’s going to “The Heart Part 5” by Kendrick Lamar, though the Honourable Mention is tied between Headie One for “Came in the Scene” and Maisie Peters for “Cate’s Brother”. This was a pretty good week overall, but there were still songs that didn’t work out for me, so Worst of the Week goes to Dermot Kennedy for “Something to Someone” with a Dishonourable Mention to Madeline the Person’s “MEAN!” just because I feel like I’ve heard it too many times before.

Next week: more Kendrick, more discourse, as is the way of the charts. Thanks for reading and I’ll see you then for that mess next week.

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

wildest dreams

witch!wanda x reincarnated!reader

summary: wanda had walked around the earth for centuries with no magic and hardly any soul left after losing her soulmate. she thought that her lover would never return and that the only reunion they would have would be in the afterlife, but a run-in with bucky changes everything after he insists that he met the long gone y/n at a fountain in the park.

yet another au by me...

word count: around 6.5k?

imma tag one person bc she gets upset when she isn’t tagged- and idk if anyone else would actually be interested?

@teenwonder

also this picture is not mine, and the dividers are by @firefly-graphics !!

without further ado, it’s almost 6 in the morning but i give you this!!

She held you tight, fingers digging into your skin as she trembled above you. The rose bushes were rustling in the wind next to you both, the sweet smell of the flowers contrasting with the moment. You were halfway gone already, eyes far off but trying to swim back to the surface, wanting to look at her one last time before the inevitable happened.

“S…” you tried to say, but she hushed you immediately, tears falling down on your face and mixing with your own. You shook her head at her as hard as you could, begging for her to let you continue. “Say you’ll remember me,” you ground out, fingers tightening around her hand.

“What?” Wanda asked, voice already thick with grief as she tried to decide whether or not it was better to keep the knife lodged between your ribs inside of you.

“When I come back-” you cut yourself off by coughing up blood, and Wanda didn’t even wince when it splattered on her cheek. “Back for you, promise that you’ll remember me.”

“Darling,” Wanda whispered back, her voice cracking as she bent over and rested her head on your stomach for a moment, hiding her sob. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her; under her skin, in her bones, dancing on her fingertips. “I wish I knew- I wish I just knew how-”

“Please.” You said, a desperate look in your eyes as you halted her words, already knowing what Wanda wanted. But natural magic was nothing to mess with. She sobbed again with her lips pressed together, no sound escaping her. You squeezed her hand tighter as the sun started on its routine descent, basking the two of you in an orange glow that you would have stopped to admire in any other moment in time. But Wanda would grow to hate that shade of orange with every breath in her. “Please.” It would always remind her of the sound of your begging, voice reaching for something that she couldn’t see.

Maybe it was the desperation in your voice, or the way that she just knew that you were well within your last moments, because she looked up at you one last time. “Of course I’ll remember you, darling. I couldn’t even dream of forgetting you.” There was a wheezing sound that came from your chest as you cracked a bloody smile, and then you gave one last squeeze before you looked away from her, your soul settling in the afterlife.

Wanda Maximoff would never forget it. Suddenly, her previously irrational fear of losing her magic became real, but that feeling didn’t even come close to the one she got when you grew lifeless in her arms.

Ever since you knew what a normal person was supposed to be like, you had identified that you, in fact, were not the normal person that you were probably supposed to be. Normal people didn’t daydream to the point where it felt like their bodies weren’t in the present anymore. Normal people didn’t have birthmarks under their ribs that aced and burned. Normal people didn’t feel out of touch with their world, like they weren’t even meant to be in the century they were in. Normal people didn’t feel like they were searching for something tirelessly, something just under their noses. And normal people surely didn’t dream of the same set of hands, same pair of eyes, or the same voice over and over again, a new setting every time, but always the same, faceless person. You either drew the same faceless person or rose bushes, and every sketch book you ever had was full of them.

At first, you were sure that you were going insane. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see a flash of reddish brown hair, or the same set of eyes, or the same pair of pale hands. You kept seeing this person without ever seeing a face for nights at a time before you went to see a therapist, who just ended up telling you that worrying about it was only going to make it worse, whatever it even was. But eventually, you learned to get used to it.

Acceptance turned into expectancy. You went to sleep knowing that there was going to be a pair of hands accompanied by the same slender fingers as always before you, sometimes intertwined with your own. You knew that there was going to be a set of eyes on you, watching you intently with no ace to go with them. You knew that you would hear whispers of the same voice, speaking so clearly in a language you didn’t even come close to understanding, and soon, you were craving to see and hear those things. And wanting to see them led to something that you never told your therapist; drawings.

You drew nearly every day under the sky, trying to find different park benches to see the sun rise and set at different angles for inspiration. You loved the sky, moon and stars alike, but there was something special about sunrises and sunsets. Sunrises and sets both meant new beginnings to you, out with the old and in with the new, and each rise and fall filled you with a strange feeling of nostalgia. You were watching the sunset on a park bench by yourself, a sketchbook sitting on your lap as you held an idle pencil, still thinking about the way you wanted to draw the hands. The birthmark between your ribs started to tingle, letting you know that it was about to burn again. That damn birthmark. You dropped the pencil and scratched at it, trying to beat the annoying feeling at its own game. You cursed the mark, but your eyes didn’t leave the sky, and you noticed your heart swelling in your chest, faint despair in the pits of it, churning around like the middle of the deep sea.

You shook your head and put your pencil in your hand again, brain not even having to work hard at all to see the features of the faceless person who was in your every dream.

Even before she ever met you, Wanda didn’t sleep well. She would toss and turn for at least an hour before she finally found some temporary, flimsy form of peace. Her sleep was always light and she hardly ever had dreams, which was customary for a woman like her at the time- an un-blossomed witch.

It was hard for her to remember the time where she didn’t have magic, but that time certainly existed. It lasted nearly thirty years. She never aged a day past twenty one, time moving past her without a care in the world. She was stuck right there, no magic except for the little bit in her bones that was keeping her young. And then she met you.

You were the person that kicked her magic into gear. You were her kindred soul, her other half and the power to her magic. Meeting you had flung her right into the world of magic and spells, things that she only watched others do, but even as she was introduced to an entirely different world, she could remember only really wanting you. Her heart and soul called to you far louder and stronger than spells called to her eager mind. When she met you, it all fell into place. It was an easy love, one that was never going to be disputed or questioned, and loved it. She was prepared to move heaven, earth, and the gods for you, if she had to. Your arrival into her life had caused her to finally blossom.

But now, she had bloomed and flourished and wilted all the same, and she was just waiting to decompose.

“Have hope,” was all that Bucky, a warlock who had been tortured enough in his own way, would tell her. “Have hope that something good will come to you, and it will.”

She never had the heart to tell him that good things hardly came to those who waited. He himself was a product of waiting, and it had served him well. Before he met his other half, he was taken by a rival clan and experimented on with spells that were so far past illegal that they made the casual witch shudder. Eventually, he was broken out and the rival clan was defeated, but he returned to them as an empty shell of a man. But then, Steve came, and then the man was nothing but a ball of light. His magic grew to be strong and so did Steve’s, and together they became known as some of the strongest practitioners of magic in the world.

But what did Wanda have to hope for when you were gone? What did she have to wake up for and smile at when she knew that she had buried you hundreds of years ago? It wasn’t even about the magic. She couldn’t care less about the way she felt the energy leave her- and it was dramatic- leaving in a singular burst of light the second you left. She only knew that you were gone, and that was the only thing that mattered, and it seemed to be the only thing that she even really felt.

Well, she did feel one other thing. Exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by the lack of you by her side. And exhaustion was exactly why she assumed that she was hallucinating when she felt a small tug at her heart, in a part of her brain that had been dormant for years and years. She shook her head and tried to take her thoughts away from you and the nagging feeling in her gut.

“Oh, no…” you exclaimed, voice tapering out into a whine as you watched the ruined paper sink deeper and deeper into the fountain, a fist clenching at your side in disappointment when you realized how many hours were lost, just like that, and then even tighter when you realized that part of you wasn’t even truly upset about the time spent on the ruined art. You were mostly upset that you lost the only vision of the hands that you had during the daytime.

You were on your knees, sleeves still all the way down as you reached into the water frantically, causing the paper to move even further away. You weren’t even worried about your sketchbook that had fallen open onto the pavement, more focused on the rapidly deteriorating piece of paper. You hardly even noticed the man who knocked into you talking, trying his hardest to make the situation better. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?”

“I mean,” you breathed out, taking the nearly disintegrated paper from the water and grimacing. When you realized that the man was fumbling to say something from behind you, celery apprehensive over the fact that you were upset, you took a short breath and turned around, giving him a small smile. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and crystal blue eyes that were striking, but you knew that they held thousands of stories by looking just once. He was holding your sketchbook, and by the way he was gripping it tightly, you could tell that he had flipped through it for a second. “It’s just a drawing. I guess I can make another one.”

His eyes widened. You saw his jaw slacken and his neck stretch out, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He blinked three times, and his parted lips trembled for a second before he slammed them shut. You cocked a brow at him, your sadness about losing the drawing being replaced by a weak feeling of uneasiness. “Sir?”

“Knew it.” His face was clear from any type of emotion as he watched yours, and when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, a grin spread across his face. “I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” You furrowed your brows at him, asking what the hell had just occurred without saying a single word. “I’m sorry, you just looked really familiar.”

Just like that, you smiled. You knew that feeling, you felt like you got deja vu far too often to be normal. You hated when people made you feel strange for it, you always had, so you tried your best to ignore it with him. “You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m Y/N.” You extended your dry hand for him to shake it. He stared at it for a moment, and then with an eagerness that made you smile, he shook your hand.

“‘I’m Bucky.”

For a moment, you could have sworn that you had done more tha just seen him before. Could have sworn that you had shaken his hand, met him before, been at the receiving end of his blinding yet somewhat shy smile. It flashed through you warm and bright, and you cleared your throat before pulling your hand away and realizing you had held it for too long. You cleared it again when you saw something flash in his eyes, a weak smile lifting on your lips.

“It’s not her.”

Wanda was furious. She was insulted more than anything, really, angry that Bucky could even mistake the light of you for someone else. She knew that you would never grace the earth with your presence again, and she was so used to the fact that she was going to have to die before seeing you again. And for one of her closest friends to try to convince her that you were back?

“She would have already found me.” And Wanda believed that with her whole heart. You had asked her so long ago that you remember her, like she could ever forget. Your scent was so flowery that whenever she walked past a growing garden that she smelled you, your smile was so bright that she saw it in the way the rays of sun came down on the earth. She heard your laugh in the chirping of the birds every morning, and she saw your playfulness in the running waters of the stream by the cabin. She could never forget you, because everything was traced back to you. And you would never return without finding her.

“I don’t think she even knows it yet, but she is looking for you.” Bucky insisted, stepping forward and receiving Wanda’s burning glare while Steve stepped to the side and let it happen. “I bumped into her and she dropped her sketchbook. I saw her drawings- she drew your eyes.”

Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“She dropped the drawing of hands in the water, but I saw she had drawn eyes that looked just like yours, hair the same shade as yours, even drawn the necklace you used to wear. She draws roses, too. I swear to everything above, it’s her.”

She could feel herself getting warm, the sort of emotions stirring inside of her that had the potential to turn into a singular weapon. The thought of a rose bush made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not her.”

“You forget that I knew her, too,” Bucky stated, and Wanda’s desolation was replaced by some ancient feeling of possessiveness. “I could never forget her face, and that was it right there. That was her face, without a shadow of a doubt, And her voice-”

Wanda’s face curled into a snarl. “Stop talking about her.”

“Hey, Wanda, take a deep breath,” Steve cut in, ever the mediator, but Bucky was hardheaded. If he thought something needed to happen, he was the one to push for it to happen, and he needed her to see.

“She looks the same as she did the day she left.” Wanda let out a choked noise. For a second, all she could picture was her lover dying by the blooming rose bushes in the sunset, ruining two of the most beautiful things in life at once. The third (but first) was you, but not even your horrible death could taint Wanda’s memory of you. You would forever be the brightest and most beautiful thing to grace the earth. “I got her number, we’re meeting at a coffee shop a few blocks away.”

“Leave her alone.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw the brunet’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open, she spoke before he could get a word in. “Just stay away from her, Bucky.”

All she could think about was your death. The way you choked on your own blood. The way you cried and looked up at her, but still managed to smile. And as she was consumed by rage and memories, the only other thought in her mind was that she was yours and you were here, and that she couldn’t save you then. But she was surely going to preserve your memory from Bucky’s mouth.

“I know you feel it coming back. You haven’t felt it in so long, but it’s warm, right? It’s powerful. You always were the strongest, and you’re not dormant any longer. Stop lying to yourself and depriving yourself of love, Wanda. You know Y/N-”

She saw red. Red as red as the fires that burned in the magma underneath the ground, as red as embers in a fire. “You don’t get to say her name.” She saw so much red, so much hot anger that hardly covered her sadness, that she didn’t even see the way that she had her hand out red coming from her palm as she lifted Bucky right off of the wooden floor of their shared home. “You don’t get to talk about her.” There was a warbling noise in her ears, whispers that sounded like her name, getting louder and louder until she finally realized it was Steve trying to get her attention.

“Wanda.”

Instantly, she dropped her arm and watched Bucky fall to the ground, landing in a crouched position. She watched him catch his breath on the ground. She opened her mouth to apologize, to say that she felt terrible and that she had no idea what happened, what took over her, but she was stopped by the brilliant smile that came onto Bucky’s face.

“You used magic.” He said, slowly and steadily, not a hint of hesitance or animosity in his eyes or voice. Instead, he seemed more proud than anything. “You can’t deny this now, Wanda.”

She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest intensifying as she tried without any results to get the right amount of air in her lungs. She felt her knees hit the ground before she knew that she did, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into herself. Her heart ached, tugging in so many different directions as her brain fought to rationalize what everything meant. She had used magic, and that meant that you were back, in one way or another. She was in disbelief. She was in despair. She was in shock.

“I know you do, I know you do,” It was Steve’s arms around her, and Steve’s voice in her ear, and she realized that she had been saying I miss her, I miss her, over and over again until the words jumbled. “We know you do, Wanda. We miss her too.”

But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t lost Bucky since he had found him. He hadn’t walked the earth for centuries after losing the only thing that mattered to him as an empty shell of the person he used to be. He would never understand, but that wasn’t his fault. In fact, she prayed that he would never understand.

“I’m sorry I approached you like that,” Bucky said, crouching down and hugging her just as Steve was, enclosing her into a hugging circle. They were coven, related by magic, and just being around them made her tears subside. “But you know that I would have never said anything like that unless I was one thousand percent sure. I would never do anything to hurt you, Wanda. All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that I found her.”

And how could he want anything but the best for her? He knew her just as much as Steve did. Just as much as she probably knew herself. He and Steve were the ones who stormed the coven that took you from her by her side, and they were the ones that helped her send them to their graves. They supported her through thick and thin, through revenge and peace, and mostly, they loved you almost as much as she did. Why would Bucky lie?

Wanda blinked, staring down at her hands in fear and wonder as her heart beat started to get away from her. Steve’s warm hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched from the sudden touch after such a rush of power.

“I think you should go with him, Wanda.” Her heavy breathing was all that filled the air for a moment. “Just take a look at her from outside so you can leave if he was wrong without anyone knowing, but you should at least try. I think Buck’s right.”

Wanda’s breaths were still labored. Her hands trembled as she moved hair from her eyes, and her lip quivered before she found the strength to mutter a few words. “Will she- will she remember?”

“I think she will,” Steve said softly. “But she’s probably just a human. It may take more than just seeing you for her to remember everything.”

Her eyes were wet with tears, and her heart was so big with warmth and need that she was scared that it would burst open at the seams. But she was even more terrified to lose the idea of you. Slowly and shakily, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down as she sealed her own fate. “I’ll go.” She saw Steve give her his fatherly and supportive smile, small yet full. “I’ll see her.”

You didn’t know how you were gently swindled into giving Bucky your number. You knew that it was nothing but friendly, but he was so charming that you felt like you could never not know him. In fact, it felt like you already did know him. He said something about maybe commissioning an artwork of yours, and of course that excited you. You were going to meet him at a coffee shop, in a public place even though you weren’t the slightest bit afraid of him. But something felt different.

It started once you got into your car. You were driving to get to the shop when tingles came down your spine, and bumps raised on your arms, like someone was whispering against your skin. You started to feel warmth come and go in waves, brushing against your mind and then retreating again. You shook off all of the strong feelings as you turned your car off, parked in front of the coffee shop while the music from your speakers filled the silence, soft piano music that was perfect for the weather.

It was drizzling, the kind of weather that you liked to call a “lover’s drizzle” because of how often it was seen in romantic scenes. Scenes of confession, of reunion, of desperation between two lovers- more often than not, they had the mild rain to stand in. You turned the music down before shutting your car off and then stepping out, closing the door and locking it immediately before walking briskly to the entrance of the coffee shop with your recent drawings in hand.

Bucky wasn’t there when you arrived. In fact, hardly anyone was there besides the few employees, who smiled at you when you entered but otherwise fell back into conversation amongst themselves, which was fine with you. There was one beefy blonde man who was sitting with a laptop and a ball cap on. He glanced up for a moment and then took a double take, blinking hard at you with a star struck look on his face, and then he shot his gaze back down and went back to typing.

You sat down at a table for two, the only type of table that was there besides the long, awkward study tables that they had set up in the center of the room. You would much rather take the intimate setting of a two-seater than to sit in the middle of the shop, so you did just that. You flipped through your work, looking at it closely now that you had the time. He had mentioned something about possible portrait work for a friend of his, so you naturally brought most of the drawings that you had done with hands, arms, eyes, hair, nearly everything that was the closest to your heart. You rested your palm on top of them and watched your fingers trace the slender ones that you had drawn in what felt like by memory at the time, like you were just remembering the way an old friend’s hands used to look. You peeled that one back and looked into the eyes, the strangest and prettiest light green color that made your heart pound every time you looked at it. You took a deep breath in.

“That’s gorgeous.” You jumped in your seat as the chair in front of you pulled out from under the table, and there was the charming brunet that you had met by the fountain, giving you the same welcoming smile that he first granted you. You smiled back without hesitation, your heart warming at the sight. “You sure can draw.”

“I try,” you joked, your grin nearly splitting your face. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I like tea, though.” You gave him a thoughtful look.

“Are you into herbal healing?”

You could have sworn that there was some sort of excitement in his eyes, but you weren’t sure enough by the time he opened his mouth again. “Yes, actually! What, does it look like I’m into it?”

“No,” you answered, and it was true. Bucky was huge. He had the kind of build that intimidated other guys at the gym, the kind that made athletes jealous. He looked like the typical meathead, but he was sweeter than you could have imagined. But he looked nothing like a man who would be into herbal healing. “Just a guess.”

“Pretty good guess,” he mused, and you grinned back. Your head was in the clouds of some strange deja vu when he asked you if you wanted something, and the entire exchange of whether or not you were going to pay was on the back burner as you sifted through your thoughts. By the time he came back, you noticed that you must have told him that you liked hot chocolate, and that he must have paid. You scolded him before he sat back down, waving you off. It was silent for a few moments as you looked out of the window, the rain still steadily working through the atmosphere. The cup was comfortingly warm.

“Can I ask you something?”

With any other man, you would have immediately told him no, or at least have your guard up. But there was just something deep down, so buried that it was faint, but it was there, that told you that he was nowhere even close to being a threat. “Yes.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his tea and then putting his cup down gently before giving you an intense look. “Who’s the girl?”

You frowned. “What girl?”

He raised a singular brow. “The one you draw.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You blinked twice, and then tilted your head to the side. “I don’t draw just one person,” you said slowly, the lie dragging its way out of your mouth and through your teeth. “They’re different people.”

“Oh,” he said, but the smirk on his face told you that he knew you were lying to him and to yourself. You sipped your drink and something tugged at you, telling you to look out of the window and into the rain again, just one more time before you spilled your guts about seeing things- and then something caught your eye. A flash of a familiar reddish-brown. You turned your full body to look that way, and once you did, you nearly dropped your cup.

There was a woman staring back at you, eyes wide and full of so much emotion that the artist in you wanted to rush to make an unworthy attempt at capturing it. Her lips were parted in pure shock, but you were watching them tremble even from far away. She was getting slightly damp in the rain, but she stood there like it didn’t even matter, just locking eyes with you and sending your heart rate through the roof. When your eyes finally came back to hers after looking at her for what felt like the quickest eternity, you gasped. You knew those eyes.

If you weren’t so deep into gazing at the woman stuck behind the glass, you would have noticed the pleased and content look on Bucky’s face, and the look that he gave the big blond sitting with a ball cap on all by himself. You would have noticed the way that the blond man was turning his body towards your table, watching with the same amount of anticipation as Bucky was. You tried to understand why she looked so familiar, why she was scratching the part of your brain that always tried to convince you that you were much older than twenty something- and then it hit you.

You had been drawing this woman. And you had been thinking about her ever since you knew how to think. It was just the first time you were ever seeing the full picture. “I-” you muttered, eyes stuck on her and the way she looked like she was about to topple over from emotions. The words got stuck in your own throat as you weakly tried to get your mind to take you back to the conversation. “I- excuse me. I have to- I’ll be back- excuse me.” Your chair made a loud noise as you stood from the table in a haste, pushing the door open and walking towards the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk, dumbstruck.

Before you even knew you were outside and into the rain, you were standing not even four steps away from the woman, who was now looking at you with an incomprehensible look on her face. You couldn’t even feel the rain on you. All you could feel was her gaze and the warmth that was settling in your stomach and chest, and the same intense familiarity that was hitting you when you looked at Bucky. But it was so much stronger.

“I-” you frowned, taking a step closer and resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “Do I know you? Have we met?” You had to have met. You had seen her in your sleep, in your daydreams, in your sketchbook. And still, you never could have imagined how beautiful she was.

She was silent.

“I know this is random and that I just bum rushed you, but, did we go to school together or something?” You were embarrassed. You had never begged someone to remember you before, but this woman was different. She hadn’t said a word to you, and you didn’t even know her name, but you were enraptured. You swore you knew her. You swore you saw her eyes glaze over for a second.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Her voice struck something familiar in your chest, something warm and comforting. It was so familiar, so far back in your memory that it felt like home. Her accent, her inflection, the way she spoke slowly yet deliberately. It was all there in your mind, but you just couldn’t figure out how you knew it so well. “You don’t remember who I am?”

That had you closing your mouth. You tilted your head to the side at what could have been a hostile question, but her tone made it sad. Did you forget a high school friend? “Oh, um, I know you from somewhere, but I can’t really-”

“Think.” The desperation in her voice made your knees shake. If she were anyone else, you would have told her to go away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want her to go away. But you couldn’t quite place her either, even though your own heart was screaming at you to remember.

“I’m sorry,” you said, a hurt expression on your face. You braved yourself to leave, taking a deep breath and giving her a weak smile that embarrassed you even further. “This was weird of me. I’ll just-”

She was reaching for you. Time started to run slower as her pale arm extended towards you, long fingers that you had committed to memory and to paper a thousand times outstretched. Your mouth dropped open ever so slightly as you stood in place for a second, body still until you subconsciously leaned forward, your nerves buzzing under your skin.

For a second, the only thing you could do was look at the point where her skin touched yours.

You had seen magic before. You had seen it in movies and at theme parks and when miracles happened, but nothing ever like when her skin touched yours. You swore that the warmth that your body had been feeling kicked in even stronger, surrounding you in comfort. Her hand was wrapped around your arm, gentle yet begging, firm yet wishing all the same for something you couldn’t quite see yet. You looked up and into her eyes, the eyes you had drawn and seen so many times, and then you saw it.

You saw it in more than flashes. They were coming in at the speed of light, but somehow you were able to catch every moment and every feeling that came along. You heard her voice as clear as day, ringing with laughter. You saw the two of you attempting to skip stones. You saw her enchanting your stones behind your back to make you think you had actually done it. You saw her mouth brushing over your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead. You could feel her hands on you, holding you, protecting you, cherishing you all the same. You could remember the way that you felt when you saw her standing in traditional witch’s clothing, being inducted into her coven as a blossomed witch. You saw everything and nothing, and you remembered it all.

Wanda.

A strangled sound escaped your body, so feral that it scared you, but you didn’t care. You pulled her forward, your head clashing against her chest. You could feel her shaking, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you just as tightly, but she was hesitating. “Wanda,” you called out, hugging her tighter, and then, like something in the universe stretched too far and then snapped right back into place, she was returning the embrace.

“I thought I had lost you forever,” she said, her voice hollow yet so full, so expressive. “I lost you, darling.”

The memories were all there, like all it took was a touch, but you were still coping with the knowledge. You had been murdered. Murdered by witch hunters, way back when witches were known and feared. That had to have been hundreds of years ago, you knew it. But still, your focus was on Wanda. It always would be on Wanda, forever and always. Just like hers was on you.

“You didn’t,” you managed to say, your own voice thick with emotion as you buried your face into her neck, finally feeling the texture of the hair that you tried so hard to get right. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly sobbing in your arms. You had no idea how you weren’t being interrupted in the crowded streets, but when you took a look back inside of the cafe to see the men who you so clearly remembered as Steve and Bucky, you knew it had something to do with them and their fulfilled smiles. “I wasn’t able to save you. I let you die, and I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.”

Her words brought you back to the present. “Wanda, no. No, no, no.” You wanted to pull away and look at her face, but the second you started to, she held onto you even tighter. You leaned your head back onto her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way any of us could have known, and no way that you could have saved me. It was beyond us.”

“Nothing should have ever been beyond us.” She argued softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“But it was,” you said. “And now it’s behind us. Don’t apologize, Wanda.” You wiggled around and got free enough to look up at her teary face. “I may not have recognized you, but now that I do, I can’t believe that I ever forgot you.”

“A new life will do that to you.”

“Is it really a new life if I remember everything?” You said softly, the rain long gone as you stood with each other, bodies nearly molded together with how close you were.

She pulled away to look down at you, her eyes and overall expression tense, and then there was a look that you recognized from a long time ago. It was a look of sweet desire. You closed the cap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers in a way that proved that you were both two lost souls who had wandered their way back to their other halves.

“It can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” Her lips brushed your again, soft and tender and eager for more touch. “As long as you let me be in it.”

#wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #my fics #witch!wanda #marvel au #witch!au #scarlet witch #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #no idea what to tag this-#wanda x you #lgbt marvel #lgbt

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 3 years

Text

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

#Jily #Part 1 #Of 3?#Honestly I just wanted to give you guys a treat

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yinses · 3 years

Text

college au! headcanons

gojo satoru, geto suguru & nanami kento

rqst: college au for nanami, geto and gojo?

a/n: so i divided it into three categories to help keep my head straight. honestly almost straight kicked gojo out of college bc i couldn’t decide on a major for him. the jjk discord server is heaven sent for my sanity. ty everyone again 🌺

last time i should have to post these. hoping everything is fine now.

gojo satoru

MAJOR

—he starts off undecided for a long time. the fact that he’s on scholarship allows him to be more flexible with his classes given that he’s not responsible for costs. he grew up with expectations from his family but university is suppose to be his opportunity to spread his own wings and grow from his experiences.

—so he tries a bit of everything- sciences, music and social studies- anything to prompt a spark. (took a business class once and made a point to sit next to nanami everyday just to annoy him) by his second year he’s getting as frustrated as his counselor because if he doesn’t decide soon he’ll be a potential 5th year senior.

—he’s overthinking it but gojo wants to invest in what he believes will make the most significant impact to his ability. his counselor takes those crumbs and runs with it.

—he gets steered towards political science and actually excels at it (that advisor gets a raise). surprises most of the class with his analytical skills because they thought he was just a pretty boy- surprise he’s beautiful and smart.

—develops a vested interest in governmental policies. might run for president one day idk. brings donuts to his early am class. doesn’t share.

SOCIAL

—he’s not the jock per say, but as the star athlete of the basketball team, the school likes to take advantage of his image to draw in sponsors.

—his face is plastered all over the auditorium whether they’re in season or not. sometimes it’s not even to promote basketball, gojo is pretty and they’re not afraid to use it. which also makes him one of the most recognizable faces on campus.

—due to his student athlete contract, he’s not allowed to sign autographs freely in the event they’re attempted to be sold as quick cash. but yikes, he can barely walk to class without someone stopping him for a picture. to the best of his ability he tries to laugh it off, poster boy image and all, but it gets pretty fucking old and annoying quickly. especially when it makes him late for his next lesson and the instructor shows no sympathy.

—his height didn’t only help him get into basketball, but its also convenient when it comes to shouldering politely through the student masses. his golden rule is don’t make eye contact. the busier the crowds the easier it is for him to pretend like he could’t possibly have heard them.

—gojo doesnt scout fraternities, fraternities scout him. but he’s not interested in the slightest. as an athlete he already gets into any social circle he wants without the additional effort. that and he doesnt think he could tolerate an alpha male trying to exert his dominance without barking back.

—loves to show up to parties but always arrives late enough to the point where they don’t think he’s coming. it helps him slip in when he wants too. he’s a connoisseur of all alcohol varieties and a master of beer bong. he’s not necessarily the life of the party but his presence is kind of hard to miss.

RELATIONSHIPS

—he gets too much attention to date casually. most potential suitors are in it more for the benefits they receive than him anyway. he’s got enough on his plate with career indecisiveness and games to try to pursue anything serious before third year.

—he’s not completely celibate though. he tries to keep the same partners as long as he can. not only to keep himself clean and safe but because he often goes into an agreement to keep it casual. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. either way he gets coined as a ‘heartbreaker’ before the end of his freshman year. frankly the rumors obscure most of the truth and give him more freedom. people always expect that he’s with someone even when he’s not, which helps keep his invasive teammates off his back.

—gojo can easily graduate without securing something tangible but there is still a window for potential.

—you’re both his consistent classmate and occasional friends with benefits. its the former title that keeps bringing him back around. he cant exactly avoid you without subjecting himself to 8am classes. it helps that the sex is good too.

—he can text you an offer to study together for the next test and roll over after an hour and wreck you for the rest of the week. its hard to tell who gets addicted first but he does appreciate the way your skin looks when youre wearing his marks.

geto suguru

MAJOR

—he’s a STEM kid, particularly interested in bio-genetics to improve overall health. he believes that simply becoming a physician just keeps the issue at bay and his goal is to eradicate the problem at its source.

—since high school he’s been cataloging different programs across the country before deciding what he wanted and putting all his efforts into it. so it’s no surprise when he gets in.

—geto doesn’t need counselors but they’re required so he listens to them prattle on about using university as an opportunity to explore. this man came in with more college credits than most sophomores, he knows what he wants.

—always on-time to class and never misses an assignment. also that kid who goes above and beyond, even on the simple stuff. he rarely gets teased about it, not even behind his back. geto straight up scares some people even when he’s smiling.

—not afraid to correct teachers when they’re wrong. in fact he lives for it.

—he’s the one who graduated early and starts his master’s program before most of his age group declare their own majors.

SOCIAL

—he tends to frequent the same circles- handpicking his acquaintances out of class rosters, clubs and honor lists. he’s less in it for the friendship and more so to scout for potential research partners.

—met gojo in one of his science electives and literally carried him through the class. they somehow end up friends but only really hang out at each other’s places- bunch of chill movie nights and pizza.

—there is no interest in fraternities, but he does join university funded clubs that allow him to further his research. they give him unique access to labs, take him on trips to different conventions and have an alumni list a kilometer long for future collaborations.

—the man does not party but he will occasionally slip into quieter bars to ease some of his frustrations. he actually enjoys karaoke thursdays , not to sing for himself but the drunken antics of others bring him some amusement.

—smokes weed occasionally, but only his own product. it helps him relaxand fan out the stress. he never sells it but sometimes gojo nicks some of his stash. given that he gets drug tested often, geto doesn’t know how the athlete never gets caught.

RELATIONSHIPS

—not interested in seeking out relationships in the slightest. the man has a plan and he’s already married to it.

—he’s not completely immune to sexual advances though and occasionally splurges but none of the friends with benefits crap. he’ll hit it once and stay celibate for the rest of the year easily.

—you might be able to squeeze in as his fellow lab partner. remain invested in the work and not him and he’ll start noticing the little details of your company- the way you subtle perfume lingers on his lab coat hours after you’ve adorned for the day, how he knows you have to keep your hair up for safety precautions but he thinks about running his fingers through it daily and your mind, damn, he wonders what else you can come up with when he has you laid out on his sheets.

—if he’s interested, geto won’t hesitate to broach the topic. he’ll ask you out for coffee and when you try to bring up research he’ll be upfront about his attraction. ultimately if you start dating the two of you are an absolute unit- not that you weren’t before.

—you’re the one variable he didn’t plan for but he’s glad to have added you to the equation.

nanami kento

MAJOR

—he was made for the business world, brought by a CEO who raised him to inherit the company. administration major marketing minor.

—takes initiative in all his classes and is often coined as group leader for projects. mostly keeps to himself and only speaks up when prompted or disagrees with something.

—he takes the earliest sessions possible because it means less people more often than not. doesn’t really care if its in the front, middle or back but always sits near the edge.

—doesn’t really want to but it looks good on his resume so he joins the marketing team where they present mock business plans for competitions. they win a lot. nanami honestly doesn’t care. but again it looks good.

—it only took him a brief summer internship to learn that he found nothing satisfying about board meetings and macro management.

—he decides to invest in law school to handle the company from a legal standpoint instead.

SOCIAL

— sort of like geto, only wants to make friends on a need be basis.

—he would rather keep to himself but knows the benefits of socializing so he interacts with his frequent classmates when he can- through study groups or car pooling to seminars.

—he does join a fraternity, its the same one his father did (and uncles, cousins, whatnot. its a generational thing). its geared towards bettering future leaders. they focus building resumes, charity events and run the organization like a proper business. nanami gets elected president by his third year and runs two terms.

—the only parties he attends are networking events- full of wine and fancy horderves. wine is plentiful but he’s always nursing a scotch on top of his headache. if one more person squeezes their stocks into a conversation he’s going to personally take down the whole market

—zero interest in college party life. spends some of his downtime at the campus theater watching old time movies and classic plays.

—he’s the coffee shop hoe. he wakes up early sometimes just to sit by the window and read some casual literature. has his own thermo that gives him free refills to cart to class. do not talk to this man before he’s had his caffeine.

RELATIONSHIP

—he probably has a high school sweetheart that he’s still clinging too, whether on the same campus or long distance. it helps him because he can’t really see himself pursuing a relationship while focusing on school.

—he’s been with you long enough that you understand his ambitions and won’t feel bested by them. the two of you have a system- starting the day off with sweet ‘good morning’ texts before class and ending the day with long conversations as you digest the last 12 hours.

—nanami is independent but he is thankful to have you to rely on when classes start to overwhelm him. the two of try to escape briefly for the weekend when you can. often going to near by reservations just to get off campus

—other times the two of you will cuddle close on your dorm bed, his long fingers combing through your hair while he reads over some notes for class.

—sometimes you have to be the one to tell him to take a break and to enjoy life while he can. even if that means dragging him the events and concerts hosted on campus. he resists at first but you can see the tension ebbing away as the night comes to a close.

—the two of you start living together in your senior year just because you can. he insists on buying a house. not only because he can afford it because it can be rented out after graduation. always the business man.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #nanami x reader #geto suguru x reader #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo blessings #gojo satoru x reader #geto blessings #nanami blessings

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supersizemeplz · 3 years

Text

We Meet Again

Incubus!Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Female

Another #supersizedfic Halloween fic. I know, I know. It isn’t October yet but I wanted this to jumpstart my writings for it. I definitely want to push out more creepy/scary fics around that month. Let’s call this practice. Also, I’m calling him an incubus but I’m not sure if he fits that category fully in this. Idk. Enjoy!

Song suggestion: Algorhythm by Childish Gambino

"Come on down to Moreen's Super Savin-" The commercial was clipped short as the screen went black. It had to be the millionth time it'd came on in the past two weeks and it was becoming repetitive. The young woman sat the remote on the glass coffee table before she stood. Her adoring pet took that as her cue to hop down as well and follow her owner close.

"How about a snack, Mina? We deserve that right?" She spoke to the puppy as if she'd reply. Well she kind of did with a bark and shake of her tail. Sierra made her way to the fridge and pulled open the freezer. Only to be met with ice trays and frozen meats. Frowning a bit, she looked down to her animal companion.

"Looks like we're out, mamas." Closing the door, she made her way to the dining room table. Grabbing her keys from atop a local Moreen's Super Savings ad paper. She took a quick look in the hallway mirror and made a quick 180 to head up the stairs to her bedroom. "I guess I need something to cover up, huh."

Keys jingled in a hurried dance as she moved, sounding along with the calmed patter of the loyal four little paws. Out of the bedroom once she'd grabbed a hoodie, through the hallway, and down the stairs. Sierra slipped her braids into a bun atop her head, adjusting the silk headband that protected her edges.

Turning to the eager little bichon frise at her feet, she squatted to talk to the puppy. Mina. "Mommy will be back, ok? I'll get us some snacks from the store." She chuckled as Mina barked her reply. With a soft head rub, Mina turned away satisfied as she went back to play with her toys.

Locking the door behind her, Sierra made her way to her car. She was craving vanilla wafers and ice cream. The wind was a bit chilly as she got further from the house, picking up just a little. Fall was slowly making its way and she was amped for the holidays to start rolling in.

With a soft close of the car door, her right index finger pressed the start button to bring the car to life. The time on the radio read twenty minutes until ten o'clock which was just enough time for her to make it before the store's closing. Once she'd set the radio to a slow R&B jam, she was on her way.

A quick ten minute ride was all it took to reach the store since traffic was basically non-existent. Weird but not impossible. She pulled into the nearly empty parking lot without a second thought and turned off the car. "Out and in, two minutes." The words were a mumble as they left her lips, more so a reminder that the store would close soon and she needed not to slow poke.

"Welcome to Moreen's Super Savings." A lone cashier spoke to her as soon as she entered. She smiled with a polite greeting in reply before heading off to the frozen section. Her house shoes made little noise as she found the ice cream selection with ease. A glance to her watch showed she had eight minutes until closing. She had to hurry.

"Hi, how are you?" Her southern hospitality showed as she passed a man that occupied the aisle as well. Not really paying attention to any of his details. Her mission was ice cream, not a man. He gave a polite smile and simple reply, looking over to her once he heard her voice. From her quick glance, she could see his hands were empty though he seemed to be looking for a frozen dessert as well.

The moment between them came and went as she began her quick search once again. "Ah-ha." She spoke the small victory, grabbing the last personal sized vanilla blue bell pint. "Now to the cookies and then something for Mina." With a quick stride she went over two aisles to find the large variety of cookies.

Squatting down to look at the vanilla wafers on the bottom shelf, she saw someone standing at the end of the aisle out of her peripheral. She thought nothing of that as well until a weird feeling fell over her. And the figure was still there. Raising a brow, she looked over to where the figured stood. Or where it should've been. No one was there.

"Hmm." She gave a quick hum of confusion as she stood from her current position. With her choice of cookies in hand. Her head turned both ways to see if she was just imagining things and after seeing that no one was really there, she decided she was. A quick shoulder shrug ended the paranoid thought and she went on her way to get her last items. Coming to the end of the aisle, she stopped to look for the overhead sign to direct her to the pet aisle. Moreen's was kind of new to the town and she had only been here a total of three times, including now.

"Household, paper products, pets." She began her lengthy walk across the store, passing three aisles before she noticed that someone was mirroring her from the other end of the aisles. It could be ignored and pushed aside as a coincidence until she stopped to pretend that her sock needed adjusting. Only for the figure at the other end to stop as well. "What the hell?" She stood quickly to see who was the asshole sending her paranoia through the roof. She knew this store gave off weird vibes. Just as she looked up to see his face, the store went dark and its usual cheery pop songs went silent.

Her gasp was caught in her throat as her grip tightened on the old container of ice cream. She didn't even register the thought of it slowly attempting to escape its containment. Those big brown eyes of hers kept looking to the spot where the man had stood before the power cut.

"Shit." A short curse left her lips as the once frozen dessert made a mess of her hand. Giving one last glance to the spot, she slowly stepped backwards towards the registers before hurrying to it. Her eyes darted around the area to make sure she was still alone as she attempted to rid her hands of the sticky sweet. "There is no way they closed this damn store with me still inside. The cashier literally spoke to me when I walked in the door."

The door.

Sierra discarded the paper towel that was little help as she looked to the large glass double doors. Her exit. She almost scolded herself for getting so worked up, letting her fear of being in the dark affect her sense. Putting pep in her step, she made her way to the door with a quickness. A quick tug to the handle was supposed to ease her heart rate but it sent it soaring. Locked? Why in the hell is it locked? Oh no. She was trapped here, in the dark with her paranoia. Her back turned to press against the doors. "I just had to watch those damn scary movies today."

The dark aisles seemed to mock her as she scanned across them as quick as she could from where she stood. The light that came in from the windows of the store front could only reach so far. With a shivering hand, she fumbled to pull her phone from her pockets. "No, no, no!" She whisper yelled, holding the side buttons to try and make the screen come to life. Only to be met with the screen that told her that her phone was dead. "You were just on fifty percent. How the fuck could you be dead?"

A loud thud from her left caught her off guard, causing her to tense up and her phone to fall to the ground with a soft clap. She looked frantically to the direction of the noise as it's echo sent chills over her. "H-Hello?" Her words stuttered out as she slowly bent to pick up your phone. Maybe it's an employee? "I think you guys locked me in by accident.."

Still like a tree planted by the water, she didn't move. No one answered her call but she had an eerie feeling that she wasn't alone. "Come on, girl. You're stronger than this, remember what Dr. Hamina said.. Fears are nothing more than a state of mind. You're ok." Finally pulling her feet from the invisible glue that held them, she took a slow step forward. "There has to be an emergency door around here somewhere."

In the distance, just barely behind a faraway aisle, those four familiar red letters caught her eyes. "Exit." Hope sparked in her mind and she was happy to know there was another way out. The trick now was getting to the other side without being caught by the man that lurked in the shadows.

As if he'd known she'd thought of him, his voice surrounded her like a cloud. "Sierraaa. Don't be afraid of me, beautiful.." A sudden, single light cut on in the center of the aisles. Close enough to the back that she was directly across the supermarket from him. The soft buzz of the light could faintly be heard from where she stood. She squeezed her phone this time to cope with the fear piercing her as she took another step backwards towards the door.

"How do you know my name? W-Who are you?" She couldn't hide her fear if she wanted to. The waver of her voice gave it away and she hated that it. Because he chuckled at her. His back was to her and she could just make out him looking over his shoulder back at her. In an instant, the light cut out and it was darkness again before a different light popped on. This one was closer than the last but she still couldn't make him out fully. It was only his clothes that gave away his identity as the man that she'd spoken to on the ice cream aisle when she'd came in earlier.

"You don't remember me, sweetness?" He pretended to be offended, finally turning to reveal his face before the lights turned off. It popping back on with him closer. "All the nights we spent together during your college years, just as you were finding yourself. The nights we spent together.. in your dreams, sweetness." That name, that voice. That face.

"E-Erik?" His voice suddenly found its place in her mind. In those memories she'd locked away. "You're not real? H-How are you-? How did you-?"

She'd went through a weird patch in her early stages of youth and adulthood. Her grandmother had called it 'spirit soaring'. The gift ran through the women in her family, but she seemed to be the only one who couldn't keep her control of it. The first few times were innocent during her teen years with short trips around the home for just a minute. That soon crept up to her soul venturing around her neighborhood to see what night could bring. Snowballing into a faint obsession.

Her grandmother had warned her plenty times before of the addictions of her lucid dreaming. But she'd assured herself she could control it. Then she'd met Erik, the man of her dreams, literally. He'd resembled an actor she'd adored and that was his bait. Everything was perfect between the two until it would inch closer to her having to leave him. And he didn't like that, he wanted her company full time. He'd began to find ways to prolong her visits with him.

She began to notice that he wasn't under her control like everything else in her dreams. It honestly scared her. His demeanor changed and he became obsessed with her, finding ways to pull her under when she'd fall asleep. Passive aggressive and manipulating were his sudden traits. The last time she'd seen him ended with a scuffle. Scarring his left eye and her getting away by a hair.

"How I found you?" He spoke her thoughts, finally allowing her to see his face. That familiar scar was healed now. Making him look like a monster from some horror film. "I never lost you, sweetness. I've just waited patiently.. watching you from the shadows..." He took a step towards her, taking in the sweet scent of her fear. "Never..out of..reach."

The lights began to flicker and her adrenaline started pumping. Sierra began to rack her mind for an escape. The exit sign. It was the same escape route she'd use in her dreams long ago. Her feet started their movement before it fully registered in her mind. "Just make it to the door."

Erik's laughter filled the air around her, loud and mocking as she kept her quick pace. "You can run, but you can't hide. Escape is inevitable.." His words were chilling to hear. He really wanted her for himself.

The door seemed to be getting further away. Like she was running backwards. Tears began to gloss her eyes as she became weaker. Her legs were getting tired, but she pressed on. Just make it to the door. Still the door grew smaller with every attempt to reach it.

"Nooo!" Her knees hit the ground below her, meeting the cold tile floor. "It can't end like this.. Leave me ALONE!!" She screamed into the darkness. A last effort to fight her attacker.

The air was still once her echos silenced. Her eyes moved around as best they could in the darkness. The light above her popped on and the slow echo of footsteps in the darkness came towards her. She trembled where she sat, trying to crawl to the door as best she could.

Erik emerged from the darkness like a villain and stopped just before her. "When will you learn sweetness? Running will only tire you out.." He squatted before her, bringing a hand to her cheek to rid it of a stray tear. "Stay with me and we can spend this life together. Happily. Forever."

"This moment.." He spoke lowly, eyes glazed with lust. "I have been waiting for this moment for so long, my sweetness, to have you all to myself.." He rolled his shoulders as he hummed. "..And here we are. Alone, at last. Destined to be brought together as one."

Licking his lips, he held a smirk at the corner of his lips. "Isn't this what we once dreamed for? To be together forever?" His smile widened at her drooping eyes as they fought to stay open. "Well, I did. At least."

Her lips tried to speaks but all her energy was being drained. His voice began to sound distorted to her. She didn't want him to win this time. Have to..stay..awake. Darkness.

"Ma'am? Ma'am? Can you hear me?" The voice was far off in the darkness, barely audible. Sierra fought to make out the words on her mind. Please don't let him win. Her body wouldn't listen to her in her struggle. She screamed internally at herself to wake up, wanting whoever was trying to talk to her know that she could hear them. It seemed to take forever. "There you go. Breathe."

She had shot up to a seated position, breathing heavily and looking around to see if he was still there. Her eyes held worry as she was only met with two E.M.T. and a small group of employees in the distance. The female E.M.T gave an assuring smile to ease her nerves, though it didn't help much. Though it did calm her a little to see a friendly face. "An employee found you laying in the aisle, nearly unresponsive. So we're gonna take you to the hospital and make sure everything is okay. Are you alright with that, hunny?"

All Sierra could do was nod, needing to get out of this damned store. She'd never come back here, that was for damned sure. The medical duo eased her onto a stretcher and gave her a water for her throat. Since she hadn't uttered a word since she came to. "We'll do a few check ups in the truck on the way there. You just let me know if anything feels weird suddenly or hurts. Ok..."

Tears blurred Sierra's vision as she was lifted into the ambulance, listening to the distant sounds of the medical personnel that assured that she would be just fine. Her mouth didn't open and their words didn't register as she looked forward. Not directly looking to the group of employees that watched her being taken away, but more so to what was behind them where he stood. He was relaxed as he watched her with a smirk. His words rung off in her head as she noticed him vanish behind the passing of employees heading back inside. "Alone, at last. Destined to brought together as one.." She was stuck with him forever.

#black reader #erik stevens #erik x reader #oneshot #halloween fic #supersize the spooky

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

male chivalry

warnings: okay so there is a trigger warning of sexual harassment and attempted sexual assault, language, men being gross, protective!bucky, angst a bit, i think that’s it, if you see anything else let me know

word count: 3230 :)

a/n: idk why it took me so long to finish this, but it’s here now!!! also this is based off this post from @teaboot (just the op bc the rest of it pissed me off :)) i hope y’all like it. i hope it’s what y’all expected idk, i’m proud of it.

i really hope i did the topics justice, if you don’t think i did, please shoot me a message and help me figure out how to do better. <3

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open! also this is not beta read, so all mistakes are my own.

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

************************************

It had been about three weeks since Bucky had first met the group of four at the protest. Bucky made sure to check in with Steve and let him know what he was doing. Steve was always worrying about Bucky, which was totally understandable because of everything they had been through.

Bucky’s day was a relaxed one with little to no time to dawdle. Over these three weeks, he had learned more from an eighteen year old than he ever thought he would. It was easier to open up to her, for some reason. Bucky hadn’t fully figured that out yet either, but he wasn’t going to question it.

Bucky had been going to his court mandated therapy with Dr. Raynor, to say they were making progress would be a lie. Honestly, Bucky was making more progress with the new individuals in his life. They knew what he did as the Winter Soldier-- no they know what the Winter Soldier did, Cassie made sure the distinction between the two was crystal clear. Bucky was still a bit cautious around them, not wanting to hurt them or be a burden to them.

It amazed Bucky how open they were with each other. Back in the 40’s, you didn’t express your feelings. Especially if you were a man, for fear of being labeled something unsavory. Even stranger still to Bucky was the encouragement and support that everyone gave to those in hard times. It warmed Bucky’s heart to see Penny comforting Freddie after his recent break up.

“Freddie and Ted had been together a little over six months,” Cassie explained to Bucky one night after the group had dispersed from the dining table. Bucky and Cassie were standing over the sink washing the dinner plates and cutlery. “Freddie was so in love with him. I thought Ted felt the same, but I guess that’s just how it goes, right?”

Bucky shrugged, this was one of his first experiences with modern romance. Dating in the 40’s was very rigid, which was to be expected, but nowadays everything is very fluid. It truly fascinated Bucky.

“I honestly don’t know.” Bucky shrugged as he dried the pristine plates. Just as he began to get lost in thought, Evie pulled him into a subject that he hadn’t thought of in a real long time.

“What was it like with women in the forties, Buck?” Bucky blinked at her and considered his answer carefully. The group had been teaching him how to handle some subjects sensitively.

“To be honest? The last date that I went on was to the World Expo of Tomorrow in 1943, the night before I shipped out to England.” He turned, leaning his weight on the counter behind him and crossing his arms over his chest. “I went with Steve, this was before he was Captain America, so when he was a little ol’ gangly thing. I had hooked us up with two women, one for me and one for Stevie, their names were Dot and Connie, I think.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean, Buck. What was it like with women?”

Bucky tilted his head in question.“What do you mean?”

“What was it like with them? Like, how were they treated as a whole?”

“Oh, uh I think they were treated well? My Ma always told Steve and I to treat women with respect, so we did.”

“Right, but what about everyone else? How did they treat women?” Bucky was confused by the question and he began to think that he was giving the wrong answers.

“Um, I guess I don’t know. I guess they were treated how they are today?” Both of the girls in front of him released disdained scoffs.

“Well, that’s unfortunate, right Cas?” Cassie nodded at Evie and dropped her head in disappointment.

“Why do you say that?” Bucky asked. He was genuinely curious about what the girls were referring to. “I mean, I get that the treatment of women hasn’t always been good but it’s not that bad right?” The girls shared a knowing look, and then Evie sighed. She hauled herself out of her chair and nodded to Bucky.

“Alright, let’s go take a walk, just you and me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, just a couple blocks away to the Walgreens. Sound okay?” Bucky agreed, grabbing his jacket and waiting for Evie by the doorway. “We’ll be back soon, Cas.”

“Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea, Evelyn?” Bucky had only ever heard Cassie use Evie’s full name when she was getting in trouble.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine, Cas, I swear.” Evie glanced at Bucky, “Besides, I’ve got a Sargent escorting me, so we’ve got nothing to worry about.” She threw a smile to her older sister whose face was just a veil of worry and doubt.

Bucky and Evie exited the apartment building and neither of them had said anything since. Bucky was wondering what this whole exercise was all about, but he wasn’t going to say anything until Evie did. The pair walked up onto a crosswalk, causing them to stop and wait so Evie was able to turn the man beside her.

“So, before we go any further, I just want to set the scene for you.” She took a calming breath and it was now that Bucky realized that this was the first time that she was noticeably scared. His brows furrowed and he nodded as she continued. “It’s ten o’clock on a Wednesday night and you’re in Brooklyn, walking to your local Walgreens because you need tampons.” Bucky huffed out a small laugh as Evie playfully glared at the man.

“Yeah, yeah. The female menstrual cycle is hilarious as is the pink tax that is put on feminine hygiene products. Laugh it up, James.” She shook her head and pulled Bucky closer to the front of a building. “I’m trying to tell you something, ya asshole. So, you see that it’s dark outside because it’s late but you decide to risk it anyway because you have a flight to catch at four the next morning. You leave your apartment and you are greeted with this.” She gestured to the expanse in front of her.

“Alright, let’s go. And just a word of wisdom real quick before we really get going. Women are considered fragile but I’ve never seen anything as easily wounded as a man’s ego.”

“Wow, that’s quite a pearl.” Bucky caught up to Evie as she made her way down the street.

“So being a woman and even more so, being a woman at night, means that you have to constantly be on guard.” As they were walking, a man in a greasy white tank top passed them. The man’s head turned and he scanned Evie’s body.

“Goddamn, that’s a sweet little body there, baby girl.” Bucky’s head snapped around to the man, but Evie kept walking. Bucky looked over to Evie with concern riddling his features.

“Hey, sweetcheeks! Let me talk to you for a while!” The greasy man was now following Evie and Bucky. “I bet I can show you a better time than he can, baby girl. Come on, let me talk to you.” He reached his hand out, gripping Evie’s arm and pulling her to face him.

“Please don’t touch me.” “Get your fucking hands off her, you dick.” The man took a step backwards away from the pair.

“Well, fine you bitch! I didn’t want you anyway, fucking fat ass.”

“Hey, you don’t just get to fucking walk away, you jackass! Apologize to her.”

“Why should I apologize to her? I was giving her a compliment.” Bucky’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Did this guy just fucking--

“Okay, buddy.” Bucky went to approach the man to settle their disagreement when Evie stopped him.

“James, leave it. Let’s go.” She kept walking and Bucky didn’t want to leave her alone, not after that whole debacle.

“What the fuck was that Evie?” He questioned quickly, she shook her head in response but never verbally responded to him. A few paces later, the pair was about to pass a group of men leaned up against the brick wall behind them. Brown paper bags crunched around bottles were grasped in their hands. Drunken laughter was ringing out through the near empty streets.

“Hey baby! Why don’t you come on over here so we can talk to ya!” One of the men began to step in front of Evie effectively stopping her movement. The eighteen year old took a few steps backwards, coincidentally into Bucky’s chest. His arms came up to meet hers, about to move in front of her in a protective stance.

“Woah, you got a bodyguard baby?” The man tilted his head and stared at Evie. “You know you don’t need him sweetheart.”

“Damn, baby girl. You’re fine as hell.” Another man walked to stand next to the first. “What do I gotta do to get you in my bed?”

“Please leave us alone.”

“No, baby girl I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen.” Bucky stepped in front of Evie protectively.

“I think she told you to leave us alone.” The two men in front of Bucky didn’t waver. Two raised brows and a fit of laughter later, they still maintained their ground.

“Why? You guys going somewhere to fuck? Already got a piece of that ass and don’t want to share it big man?”

“That’s just cold. You gotta share sometime. And it’s just easier to do it now rather than later.” Evie trembled behind Bucky and leaned up so only Bucky could hear her.

“Come on Bucky, let’s just go back to the apartment.” She tugged on his right arm, fingers digging into his soft flesh. Bucky was sure that he would have crescent shaped indentations where her nails laid in because of how much she was gripping him.

Bucky’s eyes flicked up and down the two men in front of him, assessing how much of a threat they were. They were clearly enough of a threat to frighten Evie to the point of wanting to go home. Bucky gave Evie a stiff nod, not taking his eyes off of the men.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going baby? We’re just getting started!” One of them yelled at the pair as he reached out to grab Evie’s forearm. A split second later, Bucky’s left hand balled into a fist and he launched it at the man’s face. A loud crack resounded and a groan left the man’s mouth as he hit the ground. A look of shock fell across the other’s faces as they saw Bucky standing over their fallen comrade. The group took several steps away from the pair, holding their hands up in surrender.

“Don’t you ever touch a woman without her permission, you fucking prick.” Bucky then turned quickly, grabbing Evie’s wrist tightly and hauling her away from the men. Several paces later, Bucky still held a tight grip on the girl's arm.

“Bucky, you’re kind of hurting me.” Evie’s voice broke through Bucky’s barriers. He let up on how fast he was walking and then dropped Evie’s arm.

Worried eyes scanned her body for any bruising, “I’m so sorry, doll. Are you okay?” Evie laughed as she was rubbing her sore wrists.

“Bucky, that’s normal for any woman. Ever.” Shaking her head, she began walking back towards the apartment. “We could’ve kept on going to Walgreens, but I wasn’t sure your fragile heart could take it.” Bucky drew in his brows and a deep frown etched itself into his features.

“What the hell do you mean that’s normal, Evelyn?” He thrust his arm behind them, gesturing to what they just went through. “Nothing about that was normal.” Still shaking her head, the eighteen year old shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s normal for women.” She glanced at Bucky as she continued on her way. “Also, I know that you were probably just defending my honor or protecting me or whatever, but I want you to really think back, Buck. Think about when you were picking up women in the forties, did you ever push when they didn’t want to have that drink with you? Did you continuously ask for them to dance with you?”

“No, I told you. My Ma raised me the right way.” They walked up to the apartment building and Bucky reached for the door handle. Evie began making her up the stairs, Bucky not far behind her. She stopped suddenly, a few flights before Cassie’s apartment.

“What about your friends?” Bucky was taken aback. His memories were still a bit fuzzy about those times, but he could remember clearly enough. Although he wasn’t quite sure what she meant by the questions she was asking.

“What are you getting at Evie?” He huffed while opening the door to Cassie’s apartment. Freddie and Penny were lounged on the couch with an almost empty bottle of wine. Cassie’s head shot up at the sound of the two walking in the doorway. Evie dumped her things off on the granite countertop and turned on her heel to stare at Bucky.

“Did you ever stop your friends when women said no?” The quiet laughter between Penny and Freddie stopped suddenly as Evie’s question hung in the air. All eyes were on Bucky as he gulped and thought back to the times at the bars. Out with Steve and the other Howling Commandos, did they ever do that? He tried to think of a time when they pushed for what they wanted to happen. Of a time when the woman they were pursuing reluctantly gave in because they wouldn’t leave her alone. Evie didn’t wait for an answer, she could see that he was processing everything.

“So why did you stop those guys back there?” Her brows raised and her head tilted in question. Bucky took a deep breath and was about to answer when Evie cut him off. “By punching that guy out there, you’re a hero and we should all thank you and congratulate you for doing the right thing.” She stepped closer to Bucky and the three in the living room understood where Evie was going.

“What do you think would have been said if I would’ve punched him? Sure, you would’ve said something snappy and nice about how I can take care of myself. The general public though? They would say that I overreacted.”

“Easy Evie, he’s still learning.” Cassie said quietly. Bucky was thankful for that, he still did have a lot to learn but it felt like Evie was attacking him. That’s the point, you fucking dumbass. If you had been berating her for putting herself in danger by punching that guy, you would think she was reckless.

“Her point, Bucky, is that the double standard for men and women goes beyond what we expect. Everyone goes crazy for the knight saving the damsel, but everyone hates the damsel for saving herself.” Freddie explained from the comfort of the couch. Bucky nodded, starting to understand the concept. “And her questions about your old buddies. That has to do with the fact that you’re part of the problem.”

“What problem is that?” Bucky was honestly scared to know the answer but he knew to fully learn, he had to get all the facts, both good and bad.

“Stunting the growth of feminism. Being one of the people perpetuating the fact that it’s okay for men to be violent, but not for women.”

“Violence in the form of defending oneself in any capacity.” In Bucky’s line of work, he sees tons of capable and strong women. Natasha, Okoye, Shuri, Sharon, he could think of so many. Then he tried to think of when any of them got the limelight like Steve or himself.

“So it’s like anytime that there would be press releases for the team, and the interviewers would come and ask us questions,” he paused to think how to word what he wanted to say, “they always ask the guys about like super important things like how we’re keeping the city safe and stuff. But when they talk to the girls, they ask about their workout schedule and if they can wear underwear under their suits?”

“Yes, it’s exactly like that Bucky. That’s just a different form of it.” Evie replied quickly. She came up to hug Bucky. “I didn’t mean to attack you or anything, but this is something that we all feel is really important for you to grasp now that you’re back out there.”

“And now that you can recognize when it’s happening, the next important step is to stop it before it happens.” Penny yelled from the living room as she downed the last of the bottle in her hand.

“I’m so sorry, Evie. I didn’t know.”

“I know, I’m sorry too. You’re still figuring stuff out, but I needed you to see what it was really like for women.”

“Okay.” Bucky nodded. “How can I help this situation?” The group exchanged proud looks.

“Well, educate everyone around you. Don’t let it happen when you’re around.” Cassie said as she walked into the kitchen to crack open another bottle of wine. “And just support women. Push our problems into the public’s eye.” Bucky smiled, he could handle that, he was good at that.

Considering he was on his way to becoming a member of the Avengers, he would be able to influence from up high. He could openly support groups that were run by women, for women. He was used to standing in the background for things he didn’t believe in, so standing for something that he did was going to be a cakewalk.

A concern floated into the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He looked down at Evie, who had just recently released him from her death grip of a hug. “You know how to defend yourself right?”

Evie’s brows raised in a challenging manner, “Do I look like I don’t know how to defend myself?” The man shook his head and smiled as the surrounding group laughed. Cassie poured a glass of wine and cracked open a bottle of beer for Bucky.

They all made their way to the comfy couches to snuggle in for a movie night, satisfied with their teachings for the night.

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Well, in the spirit of feminism, we are going to watch Legally Blonde.” Penny commented as she picked up the remote. “And it’s Freddie’s favorite so yeah.”

The lights clicked off as the opening credits ran for the movie. Bucky looked around his group of friends as they giggled at the screen. Evie had her head in Cassie’s lap and she was stretched across the sofa with her feet tucked under Bucky’s thigh. Freddie and Penny were curled up in the loveseat across from where Bucky was. Pieces of popcorn and glasses of red wine were being passed from person to person, with the exception of Evie who was still underage. The energy surrounding the five of them was something Bucky hadn’t experienced in a long time and he wasn’t going to give it up anytime soon either.

A large grin overtook his face, although today was one of the harder lessons for him to learn, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be teaching him.

***********************

@mishaandthebrits

#twenty first century liabilities #bucky x oc #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes fanfic #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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goddessjynx · 3 years

Text

Any parent please answer?

Idk if anyone will see this, but right now I need just anyone to tell me I'm not crazy.

Am I a bad friend for wanting to hang out with my ex-bestie (eb for short) while she has her kids or she's busy and can't hang, so I offer to come over, to help watch, to help clean? Anything just to be there for her, why? Oh because she was on her third child, at this time I literally went over to her house to play dnd with her husband and brother and her sometimes. So I would try and say "hi" or talk, but instead we stayed doing something else or barely said hi. Ok, fine, hormones, got it. It got to the point of she wouldn't want to hang out with me for reasons she stopped telling me decent sounding excuses. Fine, That's fine, I have other friends who I can hang with or find other things to stay inside and not get out of the house to do. I don't need to leave the house, to get away from the suffocating inside the house with a mentally and verbally abusive, controlling husband. That's. Just. Fine.

So you know, time goes on. we find out that the reason she won't hang out with me, but will hang out with the other girl who she hates (Mind you the other chick literally broke into their house, tried to start drama all the time, and be hazardous to her already two children But who am I to judge about the person you rant to me about how you hate them so much?) But the other chick was also pregnant after divorcing her wife. It's honestly such a mess. So "anyways, I get excluded now because I "Don't understand what she's going through" or "I won't have the same experience" or I'm "not a good source of help" Lol, Okay? I still can't help? Be happy for you? Cool. So things go on, and just things have gotten worse on my end. I'm over here with such a mind debilitating baby fever, that I'm having to pull my car over watching children get off the school bus because I'm in such a crying fit that I can't breathe or see straight. So who the hell would I go to about what do I do? My Bestie right? (There's a reason we are eb rn) I tell her, well try, Idk how much she actually listened. But I tell her how I just can't think about anything else right now. I did everything right, and the world keeps slapping me back.

I own a 4 bedroom house. we have two cars, we even have decently everything working out in our favor, But all of a sudden, I'm not good enough for anyone. My own husband two months after getting married said he hasn't found me attractive for the last two years. THAnks. That's a real boost. This didn't start the fights, but that's a whole other set of rants. about a year before my eb got pregnant, around or right before July 4th, I strictly remember, I was in the walmart fucking bathroom. I had felt so sick the weeks beforehand. Like, My menstrual cycle hates me. She's savage af. Not to mention she likes to disappear randomly and appear with just cramps or a whole flood. I never know. But I remember calling my husband in a panic because I don't know what to do while I had to go to the bathroom so bad it hurt, and all I have is half dollar sized clots. Just something my medical brain, and senior year of AP biology says, "Fuck!" I have him figure something out because I'm really needing someone to just hold me in the bathroom I feel so sick to my stomach. I'm dizzy and all these symptoms I tell him to tell the doctor or whoever he calls.. So he calls, they say whatever to him. I don't either remember or he never told me what they said, (this is a normal of hiding information from me, A LOT) They said (What he told me) to just wipe things up and clean up then if it persists in the next 24 hours to go into the hospital. But I will have to see an ob-gyn.

So, Okay. Nothing bad. but they are in charge of everything along those lines. But those were including two words, that I now know were the two words this man didn't want to hear despite, DESPITE all the teasing and jokes about having kids with me when I was younger with him and literally just dating. That was because I had to see a family planning doctor. I was told by HIM that it was nothing, and we will be fine. I just blamed it on my cramps that are horrible and never put thought to it because I had believed that's what he was told. So that's a trauma my brain locked away until recently as I'm going through my divorce right now. But, I was thinking about how shortly after that, I got a call from my eb about how they were all waiting on me because I'm making us late for bringing stuff to the grill out and bonfire later. Fine, mask all the pain and keep fucking going. right?

She seemed genuinely not worried, saying it was probably just a bad cycle. She gets them all the time too. Its whatever. My now bestie's sister has gone through the same thing I described multiple times, enough that she looked at me and was like, "No, You possibly miscarried." even her mom went on about, "they should've never NEVER brushed that off like they did. If they cared then they would've made sure you were ok. My husband denied me from going to the doctor to see anything about it. Even after when I knew my hormones and emotions were just soooo off. But that's in my mind now, when before maybe around the same time my eb came out saying to all of us even her own husband one time saying she's been feeling crummy because she went in and she found out she had miscarried. It was so short after my stuff that she disregarded then took and made attention for herself that upset her own husband because she never told him until she told a bunch of us at a bar. I mean I felt bad for her, but Now thinking back, my gut says it was a ploy to make her husband to feel bad for her and to try for another one. Where as I'm over here waiting patiently because I jumped through Hoops to get where I'm at now.

My husband promised me children. Lots, its a fucking dream to be a mum. I care for everyone else, and their kids, why not have some kind of mini me to show of what I did. That I did good. That I can be useful to this world too. That I'm not just a lump of no good nothing to this world. But first, he needed a better paying job than a gas station.

Did that, he worked at a metal parts production place. But we then gave the fact that we still live in the apartment I got after moving out from high school. We rented a house. It worked, and it was nice. But now he needs a car, but he cant do that until he learns how to drive. 3 years older than me and I taught him how to drive. AND I helped him buy his first car, a truck. Oh but now, we still can't start a family. We are only renting. I have enough good credit that I could get a house alone, but I needed a higher pay. Bam with his income together we got a house.

Bam, I'm hit with baby fever and what not. NOW I get told, we aren't ready for anything like that yet, so wait two years. Alright, I'll wait. I can do that. We were going to go on trips together and do many things together and all of a sudden, the walmart thing happened, and it just got worse from there. It got to a point I got a job paying BETTER than him and I was the laughing stock to him and his buddies. THANKS. But I'm fine, everything is fine. The walmart thing was about two years after, so I mean, it was actually in the time frame and whatnot. Things just kept going on getting worse at home, I just kept listening. For reasons, I had to quit my high paying job, and then everything got absolutely horrible at home. Had to put everything I had control over money wise into his account for he worried it would take too long to find an new job and make money to suffice for bills. It was argument after argument, but I went to my eb explaining things, asking what the hell do I do? Her advice? To just do what he wants. The thing I had to quit about? She basically never cared about it. Everything just went on being a mess. I went on just letting people walk over me because that was the advice I was given.

I voiced my feelings that I have been following lies and how I feel hurt that I'm told dreams and having them be taken away. We never went on trips much. Instead we would buy a crap ton of ammo or new guns that I'm not allowed to use, yet I'm helping fund so you can get them, but when it was my own that I BOUGHT, all of a sudden, my things went missing and he would be out using and letting his buddies use my new guns and using up the ammo I had purchased on my own. I mean, fine, but let me at LEAST take yours out if you're going to use mine without asking. It got to be so annoying that we would be asked when we would get married or when we would have kids. He would be hugging me and smiling all cocky saying "Oh well we haven't stopped trying." every time. He would start that tell people this and I finally had enough. I stopped him and told him to put his money where his mouth was. He always said shit but never actually did it or acted on what he said. He would just lie to everyone. Tell people lies because it sounded nice. Best part? I had bought a ring for him. I proposed to him because he would joke about things like that. So I basically said, "bet" and did it. I have never received a damn ring! He wouldn't even want to look at them with me. Because they were expensive. Not all of them are. I don't care what price it is, but something to say, "Hey, I love you and Don't want the odd peeps at the bar to keep hitting on you so take this with you, its dangerous out there." (Shut up. I'm a nerd) But like.... I just would make notions about, I wanted a ring. He would beg me to pool together money and buy new guns, I mean I"m not against, but I would bring up that I will want a ring. Or even something else would be you know, amazing right now because I'm in a lost place wanting kids still and my eb just announced they were having their third. (which her own family was so upset about it that they ranted to me and my mom, her own brother said that its just another kid that they will end up taking care of instead of her so she can go to the bars again. Yep) So next we talked about getting a gun safe because, before we can have kids, we need to be SAFE. Ight, we bought it. Nice matte black 33 capacity, fire and water proof, best part the front had a reallly pretty engraved waving American flag imprinted on it. It was just so smooth. (Guess who has that right now btw) So oddly enough in the middle of me not being enough for my eb, My cycle kind of returned to being semi regular, and all of a sudden disappeared. Well that whole month beforehand we went from never wanting to touch me unless it was my birthday to every night he was angry after work and took it out on me instead. I mean, whatever. But when it came to me not feeling well, I told him.

Instantly it wasn't mine. I was fooling with other guys. Like instant psycho. His childhood friend came and moved up with us, she saw this for a good few months and had to move out because he was trying to control her as if she were a child. She told me that it was not right for him to be that way and that she will never talk to him for how he treated her. (which was exactly how he was always with me too) I'm not sure if he was trying to get my jealous because his bff was a girl? Idk we worked out like literally sisters. Sooo much in common and she told me, She believes he's never wanted kids. And she watched how I broke down after he told me he wanted nothing to do with me until I took a test. He DEMANDED that I took a test right away. If it was positive, it wasn't his until proven so. And if it was negative he would be fine. this was ridiculous. He wasn't at all happy or excited. Purely upset. I felt so shitty that after the test was negative I told him and he threatened about it happening again he was leaving back to Kansas. He threatened this every damn fight, it got to the point that I gave up, I said leave then. And instantly he shut up. I got him out of gangs, crime, jail, living on the street or with his mum, and being a maaajor drug addict. Yet I'M THE BAD PERSON.

Back to recently when my eb is getting closer to having her kid, I just go through finding out I'm not and my husband is freaking out at me, nonstop yelling at me that I'm not good enough and all this shit. Yes, lil ol me trying to keep the peace in the house is a cunt and a whore. Wow. Name calling, but hitting where it hurts? I told him before, how my mother in an argument said I would be a horrible mother. And that shit sticks. IT STICKS. So what does the smart ass pull out? He repeats it. He says he's glad I'm not pregnant because I'd be a horrible mother in the end.

That. That just kills a person. That kills dreams and the feeling of wanting to keep living. Who the FUCK says that to their partner? Am I wrong for thinking that's not right? Well my eb thought I was. I told her my feelings. How I don't want to be jealous of her, but I am. That she's more beautiful, she's always had guys hitting on her in school inviting her to do things and hang out, I was the nerd in whatever class that got invited only if it was mandatory. She will be having three kids and a loving husband that can never take his hands or eyes from her, where as I have to act like a clown to get my husband to look up from his damn phone. To say something nice. To

be acknowledged while in the house. I've left and came back the next morning because I hung out at my now besties house. He didn't say a word until I came home the next morning and he looked at me like "when the fuck did you leave" No care, no love. I was stuck being a burden. Anything I ever did around the house was in vain. Everything I helped with I got shoved away because I didn't do it right. EVERYTHING I did was not good enough. I would tell him this that is how I felt and he would deny it. One day, I caught him yelling at me saying that what I did wasn't ever good enough. Calle him out right away. Bitch... He tried to change the wording to go around what he said. I HEARD IT. it was so bad I had to have my bestie on the phone to listen to how he talked to me behind closed doors. Away from public view. HER MOM HEARD IT. Thought she was watching some kind of dramatic show, until she realized it was me on the phone. She's listened to so many calls its unheard of. There was a day, I had enough of it. (Ok A lot actually) but I grabbed my laptop and my charger and left the house. I sat in the park drawing on my laptop. Texted every person I could think of that I cared so deeply for that they would care for me back. I was in a dark ass place asking for Advice. My eb shrugged off what my husband was doing and scolded me for leaving. For sitting in a park drawing out my feelings instead of being with him because he's being dramatic to her husband upset that I started an argument. I didn't understand what I started when it was over me telling him not to throw the controller when he loses a COD game because that's how it breaks. Why he threw it? Because I distracted him by playing with my cat while he was playing the damn game and made him lose! yep. Exactly that. So I was yelled at to quit. So I did. I went back to my drawing and then with my headphones on I was humming to my music. It distracted him and he lost. So I flipped out because I can't do anything in my own house without being scolded for it. So I stormed off to the bedroom to draw some more. I'm upstairs and away from him. Didn't want to eat now I'm stressed and upset. So I didn't cook anything and now he's hungry and upset at me for not making food yet. YES. That's how it started and I again was the bad person in the story for safely removing myself from an environment where all my mind was telling me to do was dark things that hurt to say. To give up on everything I have worked for and all my dreams.

That was the last time I spoke to her for a while because everything started to be only about baby and about doing this for baby. Doing that for baby. But then she would never answer me back. I was done trying to fit time to hang out. To do something, I made new friends who didn't have kids and hung out more with them. It got horrible. the sound of a child crying made my stomach hurt. I had non stop dreams of the same thing happening. It was just awful. I looked it up and it was just meaning I had something and lost it. Whatever is missing in the dream what what I had lost.

In this dream I was dressed in all black, lace and long dress covering every inch of skin on my body. I had a hat with a veil and I was rocking a bundle in my arms in an old decrepit room with peeling paint and broken toys. It was a nursery. An old ruined nursery. I was rocking just a black blanket swaddled with a hole that emptied to the void. It gives me chills, I get this dream so much that me explaining just makes my skin crawl and my body ache. It hurts to think of but I just cannot understand it. Makes sense now that I looked into it.

But me going through all of this, I can't talk to my husband about my feelings because I'm too needy and being selfish for not taking his feelings into an account. That he's not ready that we are not ready and that I'm not ready because I'm going to be a horrible mom. Cool.

I have tried so much. I couldn't be around kids. It made me so sick and I jus would have to find somewhere to hide and cry for hours. I would cry myself to sleep. Never getting comfort by him because I'm throwing a pity party. I was so hurt. Still am. I'm broken hearted. Thinking that if I had a kid, at least I would have something that needed me and would love the care I gave and would love me back. I wanted to feel loved for how much I put out in the world. I wanted to have something to ground me to this world before I did something stupid. I was in such a dark place that I drove an hour to go see my bestie because I was scared that I was going to do it. That I was going to be the big disappointment he told me I would always be. Three months later, baby is here and I go back to playing dnd with my friends and its at their house. My husband is rubbing it in my face. He's holding baby and talking to baby and doing all these things making my mind break. He asks if I want to hold her. If i if iififififi NO.

I can't I cannot. I'm trying to be respectful. I missed out on other games because I had to hype myself up. I procrastinated because I didn't know how I would be or if I could handle it. I got to the point that my eb's husband told me that he doesn't want me playing anymore because I sent a text trying to apologize to my now eb that I feel so bad but I can't see her right now since seeing her kids just sends me into a panic attack and I can't stop thinking horrible things. So she takes that as I have a problem with HER kids and not just the KIDS situation. Doesn't hear me out. blames me for everything and has me banned from coming over. in which her husband says he doesn't want me over anymore. Which my rebuttal is because she's telling him only. But he said it was his choice. I don't know don't care. It just hurt that THATS the reason I got kicked out. Not because I was good, but that I couldn't handle their kids. And I would not pay attention by drawing the whole time. I was distracting myself because I'm trying to drown out the noises of cooing making my gut rot and my mouth dry. So by all means I'm selfish for wanting a dream that I was being promised for the last 6 years of physically being with my soon to be ex. I've know for actually 12 years. And that I drove 15 hours to bring you to me since you couldn't drive.

So I need to know from real parents, was I out of line for telling my eb that I had feelings and that them not being heard or just cast to the side hurt? Am I crazy for feeling that I've been robbed? For being upset when my husband comes home drunk and abuses me? For being hurt when I'm called all sorts of names and told I'm worthless by the man I should trust the most? Please. I need to know.

I know I'm ranting, but I need to get it out. I need to find some sort of something to figure out why I'm feeling this way, or why I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I'm fighting for the divorce since i haven't been to my owned house in the last 5 months since he changed the locks on me. I moved an hour away from my home and my family and still to this day, I hurt to hear or watch children around me. I'm happy, but inside something aches and just feels empty. Not to mention that I got told by people that know me that he's been caught buying condoms. We are still technically married, and he can't be doing those things right now. Am I jealous? Upset? Hurt? All of the above? It just sucks and I'm drowning in debt a bit trying to work my ass off to get where I want in life again since all of everything has been ripped from me. I'm trying. Please let me know if I'm crazy or out of line? I want to be heard. I'm going to start to save up. I have a plan for my 27th birthday. If it doesn't work in time for my 28th birthday, I'm not sure what else I can do but join the 27 club.

#send help #please reblog #mental health #parents #mother #father #moms #family #reblog #important #self care #self love #self help #self esteem #self healing #my story

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imaginethathaikyuu · 3 years

Text

tis the damn season

atsumu miya x fem reader

the first fic in a series i like to call “Me Writing Whatever The Hell I Want” (a working title) hope u like it or dont idk im not ur boss!!!!!!!!!!

synopsis: Running away was easy when you were chasing hazy dreams of a big city that was destined to be yours, when your rear-view mirror showed nothing but your hole in the wall hometown. But now it’s all waiting tables and failing auditions. You were still running, but somehow, these winding roads always lead you back to Miya Atsumu - a man you’ve loved and left, until you return home for the holidays.

tags: friends to lovers, exes to lovers, angst without a happy ending, established pre-relationship, friends with benefits, reader lives in Undisclosed Big City lmao who has celebrity dreams, atsumu is ur good ole southern boy (sort of), canon divergent, not edited, light nsfw, beginnings of sex but isn’t very detailed

word count: 4220

song inspo (tis the damn season by taylor swift)

i won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay…

. . .

The soundtrack of this early morning replayed in your head as you made a hazy drive to the neighborhood’s hardware store, cutting left onto the correct street and forcing the car’s back tire over the curb you couldn’t miss.

The replay of events looping in your mind? A whirring, then a splashing, then your father’s booming voice shouting curse words at anyone who could hear them. Your name was laced in there somewhere with demands for you to get to the kitchen, and you couldn’t tumble down the stairs fast enough to see what in the hell was going on.

It was your first day home for the holidays, and already it was a catastrophe.

Somehow your dad had busted a pipe underneath the kitchen sink and a strong stream of water was spraying halfway across the room because of it - your feet landed in a shallow pool when you finally reached the first floor. You didn’t have time to think of any questions before the man at fault, who was on his knees with his head hidden under the sink relentlessly trying to turn the water off, sent you out the door with more shouts, telling you to go to Miya’s Hardware and buy… something.

“A connector?” You were talking to yourself, thinking out loud as you finally parked, but it didn’t help you remember. All you could do was walk inside the store and hope someone knew what you needed.

It’d been years since you had been in this shop, but it looked just the same as when you were following your dad through its isles. You didn’t even bother browsing now, though - you went straight to the back of the store to the counter, expecting to see a familiar, perhaps older, face eager to help you.

That isn’t what you found.

“Well, hey stranger.”

That voice rang in your ears like you’d just heard it through a megaphone pointed directly at you. Something about it was so warm, but it left you with a shiver down your spine and goosebump ridden skin. You could feel the hair on the back of your neck standing up, and you hadn’t even turned in the direction the words came from.

But you didn’t have to look in order to know just who it was. “Atsumu.”

“What in the hell are you doing back in town?” His voice rang with excited confusion; it carried the same inflection as anyone who’s happy to see you. Like nearly forgotten family members at a reunion before it all goes to hell, or the way the tone of your father’s voice changes when you tell him you’re doing well and mean it. People don’t speak that way often.

He pulled you in for a hug and you gladly reciprocated, already forgetting that you were supposed to be in a hurry.

“Home for the holidays. How have you been?”

“I’ve been alright,” he replied. “I’ve missed you.”

His voice felt more like home than your four bedroom walls did, the charming drawl and depth in his words immediately reeling you in. It was familiar. You had spent a long time trying to forget about that familiarity; too long learning how to straighten out your words and lose any hint of the small town you came from. But Atsumu - he sounded like the epitome of this place.

He didn’t give you time to reply, for one reason or another; instead he decided to push you back by your shoulders and get a good look at you. Up and down and up again, likely noticing every change you had made to your appearance in your time away.

“Are you still wearing your pajamas, or is this a new… trend?”

You looked down at yourself, “Shit,” and closed your jacket tight over the old graphic t-shirt you wore, but nothing could cover your pink polka-dotted pants. And you’d have been hit in the face with embarrassment if the image of your dad and the broken sink and a flooded kitchen didn’t smack you first. “Shit, no, um… I need something to fix a broken sink. Are you… do you work here now?”

“I do - and you’re gonna need to be more specific.”

“I don’t know, Atsumu,” you laughed, slowly realizing the bizarreness of what you were about to tell him. “I woke up to my dad shouting and water shooting out from under the sink, literally flooding the kitchen. He told me to get a part for the pipe… a connector, or a couple, or something - I don’t know.”

“...A coupler?”

“Yes!”

“...He didn’t happen to tell you what size to get, did he?”

The look on your face must have been a good enough answer for him, because he took off into a random aisle and left you wondering just how many sizes of couplers there could be.

“This one will probably do the job,” he said as his path rounded the counter. “If it doesn’t, then, I can ignore the return policy for you. Just this once, though.”

“Thanks, ‘Tsumu.” You made your payment and he slid your product over the counter as his elbows landed on it, leaning down to make himself comfortable. Like he thought he’d be there awhile.

“How long are you gonna be in town?”

“Two weeks. Why do you ask?” You knew why - you just wanted to hear him say it.

“We should catch up.”

He was grinning and shrugging and fidgeting with his fingers, just like he always did, and you would never turn down any offer he made you.

“We should. I’ve got to get home, but are you free tonight?”

“We close at six,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you said, meaning every word. You wondered if he knew that.

“So will I,” he replied, and then you made your way out before you convinced yourself to stay.

It’d been three years since you last spoke to Atsumu. In that time, you had done a lot that felt like nothing, living in a different city that felt worlds bigger than this town - that city was a place you had once convinced yourself was all yours. You had pulled off running away effortlessly.

But it didn’t matter how much time goes by between your meetings with Atsumu. There was something there that you could never shake, the hold you had on each other was anchor tight. Ten years could pass and you would speak to each other like it had only been one day. You’d have world ending fights and one of you would always come crawling back, letting the other win as long as it meant things would go back to normal.

You couldn’t describe it. You never tried, you didn’t need to. The unspoken acts between the two of you didn’t need to be explained. It was something akin to a best friend with all the benefits included and most of the strings attached - confusing and nerve wracking but still so comforting.

Atsumu was the closest thing to home you had in this town, and somehow every road always leads back to him. With a few detours on your part, of course, because you just couldn’t stay away too long. Even moving across the country didn’t change that - not like you thought it would.

You just barely missed the turn into your driveway, being so distracted by your thoughts. So much was rushing back, so much that shouldn’t be - it isn’t a big deal, it’s just Atsumu, but it felt grand, like this was some massive reunion.

But it wasn’t. You were only here to celebrate Christmas with your family. You weren’t even planning on seeing Atsumu, let alone meeting up with him or rekindling any kind of flame that was once there.

And it was such a rush that you couldn’t even question why he was working at his father’s store - or why he was even in this town at all. What happened to the dreams he was chasing?

For what felt like the first time in your life, you had questions for him. But you’d have to wait all day to ask them.

. . .

You were thankful to come home to a dry floor and a calmer father - he finally figured out how to turn the water off and decided to fix the pipe later. You knew he’d inevitably be paying someone more qualified to repair it, but your mind had no space for that problem.

You were still trying to figure out how you’d meander the night with Atsumu by the time he was picking you up, and when the two of you arrived at his home you still hadn’t found your answer.

Easing into this would be best, and once alcohol was introduced to the equation it would turn into a slippery slope.

Nothing was hard with Atsumu. You knew that - that’s why you couldn’t figure out why you were having such a hard time talking to him.

A lot had changed. Not between the two of you, not exactly. You were right back where you were three years ago: on his couch, sitting too close to him, laughing at something he had said that was only funny because he said it.

But your lives had changed. Your worlds had changed. His mind had very obviously changed, and because of it all, you couldn’t keep pretending that the two of you were teenagers again.

You had to bite the bullet and ask the question that was on your mind, completely knowing that he could throw a hard hitting question back at you.

It came out more effortlessly and lighthearted than you expected. “So… what happened to playing volleyball?”

Atsumu scoffed. “You still remember that pipe dream? Nothing happened, it was just childish.”

You didn’t like his answer, so you pressed him. You worked up the courage to start this conversation, so you were going to get to the bottom of things. “You said you wanted to catch up - I know you, Atsumu. You get what you want and you wanted to play volleyball. You were going to be a pro, you were good.”

“I know you know me,” he said, and the smirk on his lips didn’t go unnoticed by you. “I wanted to get drunk and chat, not start up a fucking therapy session.”

You sat patient and waiting, eyes on him, refusing to go without the answer to your question. You were teasing, really, eyeing him up and grinning as you watched him struggle. The problem was: you didn’t expect the answer you’d get.

“I - I had the chance.” There was a scratch in his throat that wasn’t caused by the whiskey he’d just swallowed. “I was being scouted and playing my ass off and there were talks of being on an Olympic team one day, but… shit happens, and that’s it.”

“What shit, Atsumu? You didn’t just give up, did you? Were you scared or something?”

You didn’t realize how close you were to him until his hand came down to rest on your knee, and both of you focused on that touch as his next thoughts became words. “Dad got sick. And ‘Samu had just opened the restaurant, and… there were bills to pay and the store to run. Even though I wasn’t his preference, Dad had no choice and left the legacy of Miya’s Hardware to me, so - that’s where I am.”

“Oh. I… I had no idea - I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. You were already long gone by then - don’t say sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, and you hugged him without thinking, but he hugged you back all the same. “I’m sorry, ‘Tsumu.”

“It’s okay,” he told you, but you didn’t feel okay. You were sure he didn’t, either. “It’s not your fault.”

You pulled away from him just enough to look at his face, and you hadn’t noticed the distance in his eyes until just then. As you looked at him, you realized it was only familiar to now. It wasn’t there years ago, when you got to look into those eyes every day.

“I should’ve been there for you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, but his words were dangling on an edge. He didn’t quite mean them. “You were off in your own dream. I got through it.”

You only nodded. You weren’t sure what else to say after that.

As Atsumu sat back against the couch, he brought you with him, tucking you under his arm against his chest. His lips on your forehead made you close your eyes and for a second, it was like you were both nineteen again. You could’ve been, if time would only slow down or freeze or go back - what wouldn’t you give for that?

“I’m done talking about me,” he mumbled. “I wanna hear about your life now.”

You laughed, but quiet, “My life’s been fine.”

“Only fine?”

“You don’t see me on the big screen, do you?”

He laughed this time. “Not yet. One day, though. Have you gotten used to the city yet?”

“Oh… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, but… it does feel like home now. It’s so different from living here.”

“I bet.”

“I try not to romanticize it, but - I don’t know. It feels good, even if it’s not what I thought it’d be. The lights are pretty bright. Blinding compared to here.”

His response was a nod, and that was it. If he had any questions or comments, he held them back.

A break in the silence came soon, though. “You know,” he said, quiet, with a small laugh that was humorless, “I’m not as good at getting what I want as you think I am.”

“That’s not true,” you replied, and you were setting up an argument you weren’t ready to make. “You got me.”

“Did I?”

“What do you mean?”

Silence lingered, and after too long you sat up and looked at him, and that got him to talk.

“Nothing,” he insisted. He pulled you closer with two fingers holding your chin, and you didn’t resist. “Nothing, baby. Let’s just… just be quiet for a while.”

There wasn’t time for you to say anything else. His lips were on yours the moment he got his last word out. And even though you expected him to kiss you, it still made you gasp.

You couldn’t describe how much you missed kissing someone you wanted to, and Astumu’s kiss was like finding home. His lips were like candy, sweeter than sugar; his bite was a freezing shock that always pulled a giggle and a whisper of his name out of you. He knew how to kiss you, slow and deep with a hand on your jaw to keep you there, never leaving you wanting more because he gave everything you could ever need.

It didn’t take long for his kisses to trail down your neck, or for his shirt to come off, or for your back to land on the couch. You had already reached euphoria just seeing him hovering over you, eyes soft and hair askew; you didn’t need anything but this. You’d never want anything but this.

You did what you always did - trailed your hand down his torso, over his golden skin, stopping just after every freckle or scar or mark. This time, you were looking for something new. You didn’t find anything. You didn’t stop until your hand landed on his waist, and there, you squeezed -

“Stop, you little shit,” and he laughed, right along with you. A real and genuine laugh - you hadn’t heard that song in a long time. “Why do you always do that?”

Finally he moved down to press his chest against yours, his hips locking in place between your legs. A perfect combination.

“Why do you always give me the chance?” You were still laughing, not able to get over the cute sight. Atsumu was always so ticklish there, right on his waist, and when you made that discovery you swore you’d never forget it. And he sure as hell wished you would have. “You’re so cute. I’ve missed that smile.”

“I’ve missed you,” he replied. Somehow you just knew that he meant it.

“Don’t. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” he repeated. Like he was reassuring himself.

You took the initiative to unbutton your shirt yourself, so that there was no way for him to think that you wanted this to stop there. It couldn’t, not when you had him this close. And his eyes followed the popping buttons like stalking prey.

“And you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Fucking hell.”

You cringed - you couldn’t help the feeling in your gut when he gave you those sweet words. You knew he meant them in some way; you knew Atsumu wouldn’t lie to you. He’s never told you anything just for the sake of it. But how many times, in the last three years, had someone done just that? Told you just what you wanted to hear so they could get inside you? It was vile the first time. The second, it made you ache. But now, you’re used to it. Nobody means what they say. You’re used to it.

And Atsumu could snatch up any girl he wanted. A girl who’s used to blinding lights and expensive wine and lying - or a girl who would stay with him, who wouldn’t push his buttons, who would be effortless in her charm and wit and beauty.

You couldn’t put yourself in either category.

“You haven’t seen many, then.”

“Why would I even need to when I’ve got you? You’re a fucking dream. All I ever think about.”

You shook your head, not even noticing you were doing it. Atsumu wouldn’t have it.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Not when you know what you do to me. You’ve got my heart beating out of my chest, for fuck’s sake - it has been since you walked into the store.”

You never knew him to be so open with his feelings, or maybe you had just gotten used to being lied to. You weren’t sure and you didn’t care - all you could think about was kissing him, so you pulled him in, and you were sure he would devour you. You’d have no problem with that.

It was desperate when you said, “I need you.”

And reassuring when he replied, “I’m right here.”

He wasn’t close enough. You didn’t think he ever could be. And it was right then, when you were swimming in desperation, that you realized you shouldn’t have been doing this. It would only make leaving even harder. Doing it the first time was hell, letting him watch you leave and be okay with it. You hated yourself for wishing he wasn’t. And you were drowning.

You hated yourself for leaving.

You hated yourself more for coming back.

And you didn’t want to be there, all of a sudden, despite the ache in between your thighs and the addicting warmth he had you trapped in. You didn’t want to be there and you didn’t want to leave, either - you only wanted something easy, but you’d never have it. Not here, and not in the city, and not with Atsumu.

You felt him freeze, felt things shift. You hadn’t even noticed the way your energy had completely dropped.

“Something wrong?” He moved up to hold your face. He noticed the tears in your eyes before you did.

It was hard to look at him but you held his gaze, and his touch hurt more than it healed but you yearned for it. The concern on his face was genuine, the gentle strokes of his thumb on your cheek weren’t forced, and it all was making your stomach turn.

He cared for you - obviously he did - but not enough to ask you to stay. Not enough to find trouble in letting you leave him. So maybe you shouldn’t have a problem with it, either.

“No,” you said through a sore throat and a locked jaw. “Sorry, just…”

“We don’t have to do this,” he told you. “We can just talk - I want to talk. If it’s too much -”

“It’s okay,” you said. You tried to mean it as much as, “I miss you, Atsumu. I want you - touch me, I miss you.”

“I know,” and he was wiping the tears off of your cheeks as he kissed your lips, “I’ll take care of you, baby, just let me. Stop thinking so much. Let me take care of you like I always do, yeah? You want me to help you feel good?”

You always had a problem with that - thinking too much. He never hesitated to call you out on it. You nodded your head, strong and fast, like you were trying to knock the thoughts right out of it.

“Please, ‘Tsumu.” You were crying for him, pulling him closer. “Need you. Make it better, please.”

“I’d do anything,” he said. “You gotta quit crying, baby. You’re acting like our first time again.”

You laughed at that, wiping your own tears and knocking his hands away. “God, that was so embarrassing.”

“It was cute.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It was kinda hot, too.”

“Atsumu!”

It was his deep grin that made you relax again, and so did another blissful kiss that took your breath in a way that you enjoyed.

“You can cry, baby,” he said, popping buttons on both of your pants, “as long as it’s because of how good I’m making you feel. That’s what you need, pretty girl. Let me show you how much I’ve been missing you - get these pants off, baby, let me see you.”

He didn’t give you the chance to cry any more, at least not in an emotional sense. Your mind was stripped with your body, filled with nothing but him, no space between the two of you left for insecurities or questions.

It wasn’t until he coaxed you into his bedroom that those things had the chance to creep back.

Atsumu was out cold, cuddled into your chest and holding on tight to your waist, after smothering you in soft kisses and sweet sleepy words. You were comfortable there, warm and safe and content, but the pit in your stomach only grew. You watched him sleep, his mouth slightly open and eyes softly closed, and you wanted to reach down and kiss him but you resisted.

It was late and you should be asleep but you couldn’t rest. You couldn’t stop loathing yourself long enough to close your eyes, and the more you thought, the harder it got to breathe. Your throat was sore again. Your eyes were watering again. And every word you wanted to say to Atsumu was tumbling out of your mouth and falling onto sleeping ears.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?”

He didn’t stir. It was still rumbling breaths and the whir of the air conditioner filling the silence.

“Everyone else did. But you. Why… You of all people should know I’m just as worthless there as I am here - I’ll never make it - I’ve changed everything and still…”

You sucked a hard breath into your lungs to stop a wracking sob, just barely holding it in.

“I just ended up here again. With you. I’m so alone without you but I can’t - fuck.”

It didn’t even matter what you were trying to say anymore, because you had no clue. You didn’t know why you couldn’t just stay with him regardless of his choice to let you go, but something in you made you run. Maybe it was worthless pride or a childish desire to be something more - you didn’t know.

You didn’t belong in any industry you dreamed of working in. You weren’t born to be a star. You should know by now - should accept your failure and come back home for more than just one night.

But you couldn’t.

There was still a chance, wasn’t there?

A chance to belong somewhere.

A chance to be led home.

A chance to make it. Would you die trying?

You would leave in the morning. And you wouldn’t ask Atsumu to wait for you as he started getting ready for the day. And Atsumu wouldn’t ask you to ditch your own plotted destiny just to stay with him.

But this would happen again. Every time you would swear it off and every time, you would travel roads that take you right back to this town, this bed, these arms.

Running away would never get easier, but this is all it would ever be with him. He would never stop you leaving - and you would never ask him to.

. . .

...so i’ll go back to LA

#i researched how to fix pipes for this #by research i mean i went to hope depot dot com and looked at Pipes #my friend actually busted his sink pipe the other day exactly like i wrote and our other friend (who works at lowes) said he needs a Coupler #in conclusion i dont know how sinks or pipes work. do not perceive me or my writing.#miya atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #i forget what other tags i need to use lmao

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wickymicky · 2 years

Video

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wickymicky’s Top Ten Kpop Songs of 2021

7: IVE - Eleven

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven... You make me feel like Eleven. lmao. Get it? Cause it’s number 7? Anyway...

Oh my god, lol. Holy shit. Where did this song come from? I was not expecting this. At all. I love Izone, they’re one of my ult groups, but Yujin and Wonyoung were never at the top of my bias list, partially due to them being the maknaes, with Wonyoung in particular just having been very young when Izone debuted. But still, nevertheless, I was interested to see what this group would be like, as they’re the first post-Izone group, and they’re under Starship, so they’re a junior group to WJSN, and many more. Those factors do put a lot of pressure and expectations on them. When they started revealing members, I saw how young the maknae is, and that definitely concerned me, and, to be honest, made me lose a bit of hype for them, because I was hesitant about the whole thing.

But then it came out. And while I don’t really see myself stanning this group, I know an amazing song when I hear it. Seriously, where did this come from? Where did Starship get the budget for this? lmao. This is amazing. It’s one of the most exciting debuts I’ve heard since I got into kpop. idk it’s just... I don’t know where to begin.

Alright, enough wasting time, let me just list my favorite things about this song.

I love the production and mixing. I’m not very familiar with Bollywood stuff, but this is Bollywood inspired, right? I’m not knowledgeable enough to say whether or not this is appropriation or appreciation, but I will say that that guitar (or other string instrument? idk i’m sorry) sounds so clear and crisp and sharp. There’s so much going on in the song in terms of percussion, and all of it is crystal clear. This song has so much texture. It’s like... I haven’t heard a lot of kpop songs that are this immaculately produced or mixed or whatever it is. Everything, every detail, just sounds amazing. Regardless of the melody, the rhythm, anything like that, the individual sounds just sound good to listen to. Better than anything else on this list. This song is incredible. The reverb or echo on the vocals is done so well... Sorry, I’m like tripping over my words here cause I kinda don’t really know where to begin. This song is like music to my ears. lmao. The songwriting too is just... Like what I said in the Love So Sweet review, this song is also very streamlined and focused. There’s nothing extraneous. Everything works towards the goal of the song, every detail leads into the next. It flows superbly well.

I love the curveballs this song throws at you despite its relatively simple concept. That slowdown right before the chorus is a genius touch. It doesn’t just get your attention, it grabs ahold of you with both hands and violently shakes you awake before the chorus. That slowdown leaves you on the edge of your seat, and it makes the chorus so much more explosive. The first chorus ends without a second half, but in such a way that you knew one was coming. Even before you made it to the second chorus, so you didn’t know for sure that there was a postchorus segment yet, still, the ending of the first chorus surprises you and leaves you hanging. And when the postchorus does come in after the second chorus, it’s huge. It’s so lush and rich and dense and vibrant. It’s a little bit “epic” lmao, but idk... I’m kind of a sucker for stuff like that sometimes haha. And the bridge? Oh my god.

Damn, I really don’t know what else to say. I wasn’t expecting this. This song is 7th, but honestly I was very close to putting this in the top 5. For a moment while I was finalizing my list, I had this song as high as 4th place. Right now though, I feel like 7th place is just right. It’s hard to rank a song that is less than a month old, and I don’t wanna put something here that I feel like I’ll disagree with 6 months from now when the song isn’t new anymore, but I’ve thought about this a lot and I feel confident about this placement. I’m so impressed by this song, and I didn’t expect that at all, haha. Wow, dude.

links to the rest of the list: 10 - After School (Weeekly) 9 - Love So Sweet (Cherry Bullet) 8 - Odd Eye (Dreamcatcher) 7 - Eleven (IVE) 6 - Rub-a-Dum (TRI.BE) 5 - Holiday Party (Weeekly) 4 - Ring x Ring (Billlie) 3 - Zombie (Purple Kiss) 2 - ASAP (STAYC) 1 - First (Everglow)

#2021 list #ive #eleven #this one might be kind of a surprise lol #i wonder if anyone saw that i excluded Pirate and thought that meant i wasnt including Eleven either #welp

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s1utspeare · 3 years

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Plz do Midsummer next, I want to know who are all the fairies and and WHO IS TOM SNOUT THE WALL?????

🙏🙏🙏

Thank you i love you I’m so excited for the Shakespeare discourse. 16 yo Shakespeare-in-the-Park me is LIVING

EDIT: WAIT SHIT I JUST REALIZED YOU NEVER SPECIFIED IF YOU WANTED THE DMUTUALBJs OR THE ACTUAL DMBJ CHARACTERS. OH MY GOSH. I’M SCREAMING. THIS HAS BEEN POSTED FOR TWO MINUTES AND I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF IT’S WHAT YOU WANTED. OH FUCK. OH FUCK. UHHHHHHH. UM. WOW. OKAY. I’M SO FUCKING SORRY FOR THIS.

OH???? YOU WANT MIDSUMMER????? YOU WANT FUCKING MIDSUMMER???? excellent

Okay, so first off, my ideal Midsummer would be gay (obviously) and involve a lot of playing with space and audience and stuff. Like, I would want it to be in the square and have all the seats on the same level/have the audience actually on the stage, so that when the Lovers are running around in the woods, and the fairies and Puck are doing their thing, they’re literally intermingling with the audience. Athens would be in a separate playing space, for both the beginning and the end, and the Players (with the exception of Bottom) would never get to mingle in the audience, because they are so fully enshrouded in their own acting and the world of the play that they are blind to the fact that they’re simultaneously playing and being played. At the end of the play, Puck would step up into that separate playing space to indicate physically that the play is done, they are no longer intermingling with us, and we are now separated from this reality that they have created over the course of the play (this has nothing to do with y’all, I’m just using this opportunity to nerd out about my ideal production specs lmao) and thereby physically releasing us from that space.

BUT THAT’S BESIDE THE POINT. NOW. I’M SHIFTING INTO DIRECTING MODE AND CASTING THIS SHOW USING THE DMUTUALBJs, THE TAG OF WHICH I’M STEALING FROM SIERRA (also sorry i do not have the skills nor the patience to edit y’all’s icons on characters like they did I am not that good @jockvillagersonly i would die for u).

HERE WE GO:

First up: the Lovers

Hermia: “though she be but little, she is fierce!” lmao I’m sorry @cross-d-a that’s gotta be you. I love Hermia bc she’s very sweet most of the time, except when she’s been wronged, and then YOU BETTER WATCH OUT CAUSE SHE’S GOING OFF, and I feel like Cross imbues that energy very well. She’ll cut a bitch for her friends, but is also the loveliest person you’ve ever met.

Helena: Helena’s got to be @humanlighthouse. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. Not only do I want her to step on me, I also think that she’d be willing to throw down in a forest. Plus, she and Cross would have very good stage energy, I think.

Demetrius: ok here’s where things get interesting, cause you remember when I said I wanted this to be gay right? SO that means we’re playing this with underlying currents of *internalized homophobiaaaa* which means that Demetrius is actually going after Lysander instead of Hermia; or so she thinks. She’s chasing after the closest male-identifying person in the group, but REALLY wants Hermia, and under THAT ends up wanting Helena, who she’s really intimidated by actually, which is why she’s so rude to her in the first parts of the play. And who will play this wonderfully complex Demetria? None other than @vishcount. Again, the STAGE CHEMISTRY BABES. also I think vish would bring a very lovely complexity to this role.

Lysander: Lysander is actually like my favorite character in this play??? I have no idea why, but I really love him. He’s very endearing and sweet, and just wants to make his girlfriend happy. So for this role I’m casting @psychic-waffles, who I feel would embody this character very well bc I love Jack.

Alright NEXT: the Players

Peter Quince: they’re the only writer in this thing, so I feel like this HAS to be @merinnan. Also, Meri-jie tries to wrangle crowds of dumbasses everyday in the Discord server and does an INCREDIBLE job, so I feel like Head Writer/Head Bitch works very well here.

Nick Bottom: who ELSE would I cast except for @jockvillagersonly. Not only are they funny enough to portray this absolute COMEDY role, I feel like they would really ham it up onstage, which is what Nick Bottom needs. Also I would like to lovingly force them into getting more sleep, so if rehearsals for the scenes where Bottom is Passed The Fuck Out go a little long, who’s gonna know???

Francis Flute: Francis Flute holds a special place in my heart bc in my university’s production of Midsummer, one of my friends played him, and he was funny as fuck, so for this role I’m going with @bookjoyworm. I think Joy absolutely would be fantastic as Thisbe, and have a very dramatic and tragic death scene (which, coincidentally, is often the only part of the Play Within A Play that’s actually acted well, and I think that Joy could pull off that bait-and-switch).

Tom Snout: YOU KNOW WHAT NOPEY, IT’S FUCKING YOU. YOU ARE THE WALL. LITERALLY THE FUNNIEST FUCKING SHIT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE DAMN LIFE. I LOVE TOM SNOUT AND I LOVE YOU.

Snug the Joiner: Snug the Joiner is literally just a cutie patootie trying their best. I love them, and I also love @pissmeoffanddie, so that’s who we’re going with on this one. They would be a very fierce lion, I just know it (but not too fierce, so as not to frighten the ladies!!!!)

Robin Starveling: Moonshine! This so obviously has to be @undyingsunshine; it’s literally in the name!! They both fucking shine! I’m! Also I genuinely love Robin Starveling a lot too lasighaldkfjaldf.

The Athenians:

Theseus: all hail the kiiinnnngggggg. Obviously this is @xcziel. I would perform a thousand plays for @xcziel. A million. A thousand million. Mwah. My liege.

Hippolyta: BOSS-ASS BITCH. BITCH. BITCH. BITCH. none other than @foxofninetales could POSSIBLY be this Amazonian queen. Once again: step on me mom.

Egeus: Okay like. Okay don’t come for me I’m sorry I have to cast Egeus, but I think that deep down he wants what’s best for his daughter! And I feel like that has very @kholran energy. Idk they came up with the ShanSang pool noodle and that radiates very safe energy for me. So sorry @kholran ur my dad now.

The Philostrate: they’re literally just trying to get things organized and let everyone have a good time at the wedding! It’s a hard job!! Don’t make it harder for them!!!! I feel like the only one who could do this would be @mejomonster. Just trying to deal with all these idiots. RIP.

And Finally: the Fairies

Oberon: ok Oberon’s a himbo but in the best way. He’s just hanging out with his best friend Puck and trying to get his wife to pay attention to him again after she gets a baby. like I get it, dude. Me too. I feel like @elletromil has the most Oberon energy, partially bc I’m in awe of them, partially bc they feel like an old married couple along with:

Titania: @gaiahenshin. You two would be SO PERFECT together as Titania and Oberon. I’m also of the firm opinion that the Love Juice doesn’t actually work on Titania and she’s just acting for Oberon, and I feel like that’s something @gaiahenshin could get behind. ONCE AGAIN. STEP ON ME. THIS IS NOT A SUGGESTION.

Puck: ok I feel like the obvious one is the person who’s been doing ALL the magic in the fandom for us lately, which would be @xia-xueyi. Not only a Puck-level mastery of words, but also just blessing us with the energy and love and encouragement. She also feels very bouncy and joyful to me, and I would love to see her get to fly around the stage and do some fun magic stuff.

Cobweb, Mustardseed, Peaseblossom, and Moth: the fairies! THE FAIRIES!!! the literal BACKBONES of the play. Obviously this would be @thewindsofsong, @idlebeks, @staidwaters, and @i-sudoku. I know in my heart that they are all ethereal beings and that nothing would be the same without them. Also they deserve to get to fly around in some stage rigging. They DESERVE IT.

The Changeling Child: the only one who is not a mutual. This is the stupid baby dummy from the Moonfall Echo behind-the-scenes cause I think it’s hilarious.

AH!!!! ANYWAY!!!! THERE’S MY MIDSUMMER CASTING!!! I LOVE YOU ALL I CAN’T WAIT TO SPEND HELL WEEK WITH YOU!!!!!! >:)

#thank u nopey i love u #also listened to Jopping by SuperM the entire time I was doing this so #that's the energy u should attribute to this post lmao #brigid casts dmutualsbj #:/ damn i wanna direct shakespeare again this has got me SO HYPED #billy shakes #im going to be so fucking embarrassed if u were actually asking for the DMBJ characters #like no one fucking look at me #I'm literally crying in my house

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