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dumbfuck-mojave · 2 years

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Randy Meeks Emoji Headcanons

(Headcanon list used here.)

Franchise: Scream

Pairing: Randy Meeks x Reader, but barely?? Mainly just general heacanons but I directly reference the reader a few times

Also Featured: OG Scream characters all implied, Tatum Riley is the only one mentioned by name.

Warnings: Mentions of food, being drunk and poor mental health. That’s really it, this is a casual post because most of my headcanons about him are in my WIP but I still made it presentable. Oh also swearing, as expected.

A/N: I popped these out quick huh lol. Anyways, still working on my big headcanon list, which includes Randy, but my Derek Feldman fic will probably be out first sorry y’all. Happy Scream 6 confirmation day!

Word Count: 1,132

@novatheghostfaceapologist @thirsting4slashers @highonbandcandy *kisses u*

☾ - sleep headcanon

HATES BEING WOKEN UP let him sleep.

Will literally look like this after being woken up:

He usually only dreams in bouts, and if they aren’t brought up because of something specific they’re the weirdest things imaginable. Actually thought something was wrong with him as a kid.

★ - sad headcanon

Man I don’t want to write sad stuff for him :(.

Has very fluctuating and bad mental health, it’s been like that for years and he doesn’t like therapists because it’s awkward.

Feels like he’s a burden and has trouble expressing emotions well so he just holds it in.

☆ - happy headcanon

His smiles are so nice. Not like the small smiles or the teasing smiles, the full “I’m genuinely happy” smiles. They’re some of the best you’ll ever experience.

Once he starts laughing, he has trouble stopping. Tears, wheezing, hunched over, the whole deal. If you want him to suffer (affectionately), keep egging him on. It hurts a little, but it’s a good hurt and a good memory being made.

Has squeaked before when he got excited.

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

Why would you want to make him angry, you big meanie.

Doesn’t get angry that often. Annoyed, sure, but genuinely anger he’s pretty good at calming himself down from.

Gets REALLY red. Overheats easily.

If he’s genuinely angry, it’s lowkey scary because his voice has power behind it, no matter how loud he is.

Arguing makes him cry. It also makes his voice crack.

It’ll make you feel bad, as it should.

✿ - Sex headcanon

^ That’s a joke but I’m not doing this lol.

The only ones I can think of that could relate to this are that his whole torso is sensitive, specifically his stomach, and he likes to be close to people he feels affection for.

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

His room is organized and messy at the same time.

Has a fuck ton of merchandise, not only for horror properties but for other things. Even if horror is the main interest he collects for.

SHELVES SHELVES SHELVES SO MANY SHELVES. They’re all filled with stuff.

His room is dark blue and there’s weirdly fitting plaid curtains on the window, which faces the street.

There’s a desk, a cabinet with a TV and VHS/console storage, and several bookshelves.

Is upstairs.

Walk-in closet, but not a big one.

Posters everywhere.

Oh yeah back to that desk it’s covered with shit that’s the only truly messy part of his room.

♡ - romantic headcanon

A great boyfriend I’m screaming.

Is super attentive and will remember everything you tell him.

Always checking in and making sure you’re comfortable.

He loves watching movies but with a romantic partner specifically TV shows are the way to go because he likes cuddling and that gives more time to cuddle.

Thus he chooses the shows with the most seasons but are still enjoyable.

Likes quick kisses/pecks.

10/10 take home to your parents/family.

Doesn’t have a type just be nice to him.

I feeling like I’m forgetting something but I’m sure I’ll do a strictly romantic headcanon post in the future sooo.

♥ - family headcanon

Is really close to all his family, both immediate and extended.

Closest to his sister, but also loves to hang out with his cousins.

Doesn’t really know what to do with babies but he thinks they’re cute.

Has this one specific aunt, single and rich, who all the cousins know they’ll get money from so they all suck up to lol.

Is socially awkward but can make decent conversation with a new boyfriend/girlfriend during their first time meeting the family. Especially if they like horror.

Considers his friends his family as well and would always drag them to family events. ALL of his friends.

☮ - friendship headcanon

A great friend awww.

Like I just said, his friends are his family so expect to be brought into things constantly.

He does respect boundaries though and knows people need time to recharge.

Your interests are his interests. Even if he isn’t interested himself in them, he loves listening to people talk about what they love.

Will also be on the lookout or anything related to your interest and will partake in events like new drops, those types of things you know.

Waiting in line for a book release he’s with you bro.

Likes video games, both playing and watching people play so it’s perfect.

Really good at comforting people.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Horror, obviously. Mainly horror movies but he appreciates comics and games.

Also likes movies in general it’s canon so.

Cracks his knuckles loud as fuck without meaning to.

Fidgets constantly with his hands. Picks and bites his fingers.

Hums to himself constantly.

Is a pretty good artist and writer, wants to fully write and direct a horror movie one day and he has the skills dude.

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

Honestly, a pretty chill dude who can go with the flow.

Just don’t be an awful person. He can even deal with very obvious flaws because he gets invested in people super quickly.

Has good judgment besides that so if he doesn’t like you figure out why immediately.

▼ - childhood headcanon

Had a pretty good childhood. They weren’t doing things CONSTANTLY but they did do a good deal of things and they were always spectacular.

Was his goal to get one memento from all the places he went to, something made him leave in a hurry one time but his dad went back to the place and got him a snowglobe afterwards.

Loved going to lakes and amusement parks specifically.

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

Doesn’t change that much honestly lmao.

Still kinda looks like a skater. But like, a dad skater.

Still activity in his interests and the communities of those interests. Isn’t an asshole prude though, he can discuss civilly.

Old man that pops off with the jokes and will also give you 50 dollars.

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Parents made sure he could cook.

So he cooks and he’s really good at it.

Likes making pasta but like, ~advanced~ pasta.

Not just noodles and sauce that shit has onions, garlic, lemon, etc.

Any seasoning he loves.

Loves cooking for friends and first dates, showing off those skills boy.

☼ - appearance headcanon

I mean, we’ve all seen him hopefully lol.

I talk a little about it in my other headcanon list I’m working on but I have two and a half not included in that:

Had his ears pierced at some point. He also blushes to his ears.

Has surprisingly straight and good teeth for all the bullshit he eats. They’re always like that, he’s a wizard and Tatum is jealous.

ൠ - random headcanon

Is a food pit when he’s sober. Will not stop eating, will eat your entire kitchen do not let him loose.

On the other hand, can barely stomach anything when drunk. He has to eat small portions spaced out or he will get sick.

Likes the color pink.

Favorite season is spring.

◉ - Any other question of your choosing

No other question, just closing thoughts.

I love him.

Thank you.

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curiosity-killed · 3 years

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Lang Qianqiu deserves more love goddammit: a post, unfortunately

This brought to you by the wonderful @veliseraptor & @/yuer on Twitter but also mostly out of spite and the fact that it’s preventing me from writing a very dumb poke-the-bear post abt the entire weird social media culture around The Minors

As always ✨SPOILERS!! SPOILERS EVERYWHERE✨

So first off: when I hit the scene where lqq confronts xl and screams “I will never be like you” I sat up in bed, did a little shimmy of delight, and hissed “fuck yes” at like 2 AM so. Now you have a preview of wtf this train wreck will be

1 ) lqq is a good character

We don’t get a ton of time with lqq because tgcf is 87 side characters running across stage with The Most Interesting Concept constantly one-upping each other before vanishing. But what we do get is, I think, enough to make a pretty compelling story: Lang Qianqiu is a kind and generous prince who is also the sole survivor of the bloody massacre of his entire family, committed by the people dearest to him (both in his belief that Gusohi Fangxin did it and in the reality of An Le’s involvement), who goes on to peacefully lead his fractious nation into a peaceful reign before he ascends as a powerful enough (aka beloved and worshipped enough) god to be ranked among the top heavenly generals. That’s like. Pretty fucking classic protagonist vibes right there.

And, as usual with mxtx’s characters, we get a lot more than this lovely little backstory. In his interactions in canon, lqq is capable of great grief and anger; he is willing to sacrifice himself if it means avenging his murdered family; and he simultaneously holds both great hatred and great respect for his old teacher. And, of course, he winds up raising and taking care of his enemy’s son which shows a remarkable depth of compassion and emotional messiness that I find terribly compelling. He struggles with a simplistic view of justice that is supported by lies told to “protect” him and that is uprooted by the truth and forces him to try to make sense of the world without the guardrails that others installed around him (looking at you mister fangxin sir).

Also I’m stealing my own tweets bc I’m Right but:

*pulls up single barstool to lqq is a good character table* I think it’s interesting & Says Things abt the continued relationship btwn lqq & xl that lqq *didn’t* recognize xl, implying that he left fangxin’s mask in place even when he went to kill him

Like here is the man who killed his family & best friend, who left him abandoned in bloodshed on his 17th bday—& here is also the man who saved his life, who taught him, who lqq looked up to & wanted to be like

Even when lqq *does* recognize xl, he still has so much respect for him paired with that hatred that it’s honestly rlly tragic? Like man. There’s so much grief in lqq’s repeated demands for a duel & insisting it’s fine if xl kills him as long as he doesn’t hold back

*pats lqq pompom* this bb is so sad. And so much more like his teacher than either of them seem to realize or necessarily want

Despite being a pretty minor character, lqq gets a lot of complexity and nuance! Look at this child trying to be grown up while desperately turning to his old master for guidance and “the truth”! Look at him! Be sad!!

2 ) lqq is an excellent parallel to xl

Okay stealing my own tweet again don’t look at me I yell the same shit everywhere

Xl didn’t want lqq to become like him (self-sacrificing, vengeful, alone) but lqq not only became alone, chasing vengeance, & willing to sacrifice himself for revenge—he also became kind, open-minded, & remorseful!! & he still clearly respects xl @ novel end 🙃🙃

We all know hc’s “they’re not very alike at all” and yeah sure baby go support your man but narratively, there’s a lot of importance given to cycles, parallels, and foils in mxtx’s writing and most explicitly (compared to mdzs, haven’t read svss) in tgcf. For example, *gestures at beefleaf, gestures at Xianle Trio vs Wuyogn Crew, gestures at Xie Lian & Jun Wu’s whole uh. Deal.* And while I’d argue xl and lqq are part of a triumvirate rather than a pair, we’re not including mister three-face in this conversation so just looking at xl and lqq:

Both adored and sheltered crown princes

Both taught by a guoshi who was seeking to prevent the repetition of their own tragedies and in their efforts, lied/omitted information and failed to protect their charge from tragedy

Both were betrayed* by their closest friends

Both are the last living members of their respective royal families

Both caught the interest of supernatural beings from a young age

Etc etc I’m getting v bored and distracted writing this so moving on

Most importantly to me, we have their betrayal by a very close and adored mentor and how they react. The confrontation I mention at the start of this shitshow is really imo one of the most important scenes in the novel because it a) illustrates the differences in xl and Jun Wu and b) sort of gives you a preview of how xl ultimately wins

So a) Jun Wu and Xie Lian both take a talented, marked-for ascension young prince under their wing. Jun Wu sees himself in the boy and obsesses over shaping him into Jun Wu’s own image in the belief that this will make him the perfect heir. Jun Wu pushes his chosen heir into situations where Xie Lian is repeatedly harmed in an effort to show that the common people are fickle and cruel and don’t deserve his compassion and care.

Meanwhile, Xie Lian is reluctantly roped into mentoring his prince due to his inability to stand aside when he feels he could do something to prevent hurt or injustice befalling another (simultaneously his great strength and great weakness! God I love him). Xie Lian tries to teach his student to believe in and care for the common people and not to sacrifice himself (see: flashback convo re:taking the force of the sword strike into his own body).

When Xie Lian refuses to bend in the shape Jun Wu demands, Jun Wu bashes his head into the wall. When Lang Qianqiu cries “I will never be like you!”, Xie Lian laughs and says “Good!”.

B) this of course feeds directly into foreshadowing! Like Lang Qianqiu’s bold words, xl ultimately refuses to become like his mentor and remains defiant even when it would stop him from being hurt. Xl beats lqq and says so what if I tricked you, so what if I lied, I still won. Naturally, xl beats Jun Wu not through standard swordplay but by using a trick he learned while forced to busk and wander the earth alone and unlucky for centuries.

…okay so I have fully forgotten what I was actually saying here! Anyway!

Like Xie Lian, Lang Qianqiu spends a time consumed with the need for vengeance, hunting his enemy and rejecting the heavens. And like Xie Lian, he winds up caring for his enemy’s “son” and trying to both comfort him and maintain what’s left of Qi Rong’s life force despite having previously been hellbent on destroying him—bc he sees the impact it has on another person. In the end, he even gives a gift to Xie Lian—his mentor, his role model, and the one who killed his father—that was once given to him as a symbol of unexpected kindness. Sound familiar?

But, importantly, and contradictory to what I have been yelling abt but whatever it’s 12:30 am, Lang Qianqiu is not a direct mirror of Xie Lian but a closing of a vital loop in the story. Lqq is very similar to xl (I will die on this hill!! Only I won’t bc I’m stronger than y’all and will keep swinging these pots and pans) but bc xl tries to do better and keep lqq from suffering the way xl has, lqq is able to have a gentler and more optimistic path forward. He’s proof that even a small act of kindness or even kindness to only one person still matters and has a ripple effect that can’t be seen when you’re in the middle of it—a thread started with xl giving the coral pearl to Lang Ying and closed with Lang Qianqiu returning the pearl to Xie Lian.

So I have no idea if any of this is coherent or compelling but I meant to be asleep two hours ago and the points are:

A) Lang Qianqiu is good actually

B) parallels!!!

C) look ive already started another wip about Lang Qianqiu and Xie Lian and I didn’t want this but no one else wrote it so now I have to so pls just accept this as a warning

*sort of air quotes around this for Xie Lian bc frankly Mu Qing was right & Xie Lian kicked feng xin out BUT on the other hand, it was experienced as a betrayal and we also again have all of Jun Wu’s shit so it evens out

#should I wait and proofread and edit this tomorrow? yes.#am I doing that? no <3 #idk what to tag this as #uhhh #tgcf spoilers #lang qianqiu #I don’t think this can reasonably be called meta #since I am unsure if it is even readable #tgcf #long post

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therealvalkyrie · 3 years

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Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 5

very pretty, very beautiful

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: intoxication, swearing, feelings, nightmare, fluff, mentions of a deadly car accident

AN: WHOAH OKAY. So I’ve been thinking about the last half of this chapter every second of every minute for the last two days. It has haunted my dreams, y’all. Thanks to that, you get this before the weekend! Yay! Special thanks to @ghostlightprincess, @anlian-aishang, @cant-spell-slay-without-lay, and @horseanon--simpforall for helping me edit and giving me many encouragements and compliments which, quite frankly, made my head the size of Jupiter. I love you all dearly. As always, let me know what you think in my comments/DMs/askbox!! Don’t be a stranger!! And be kind to yourself and others<3 ~valkyrie

—

(read chapter 4 here)

“I think you’re very pretty.”

I think you’re very pretty?

Fuck. Shit.

“I-I-I mean,” Levi feels his throat tighten and cheeks set ablaze, “You’re very, uh, very beautiful.” He says it because it’s true, and the truth is what Levi relies on when his brain is short-circuiting. You’re more than pretty, more than something as trivial as very pretty, you’re gorgeous and smart and funny and it makes his palms sweat. Recently, you’ve been everywhere: in his bed, in his arms, in the periphery of his life even outside of the apartment. It’s overwhelming, this is overwhelming, how his hands are on you and how you’re looking up at him with insecure, anticipatory eyes. They’re glassy and red-rimmed, pupils blown to saucers.

Oh. That’s right, she’s high.

Levi lets his hand drop from the top of your head. He tries to move his other hand away from your cheek, but you grasp his wrist to keep it there. He can feel his own pulse fluttering under your fingertips.

“Very beautiful?” It’s soft, hopeful.

He forces himself not to retract the statement (because it’s true) out of self-preservation.

“Very beautiful, kid.” He can say it without stuttering this time. It’s important that you believe him, and it’s equally important that this is as far as it goes.

You close your eyes against the pet name and turn your face into his palm for a split second, press a swift kiss to it and then drop your hand to your lap. His heart stutters. He drops his hand, too.

“Thank you,” the words fall past your lips, careful and distant, as he takes a step back.

He needs some space. To get his head on straight, to scream into a pillow, to talk some sense into himself. Can’t risk this, not with you, not with you.

“Your, um, your pajamas,” he points to the end of the bed where they’re sitting in a neat pile, then turns tail and strides out of your room, shutting the door behind him.

In his room, his jelly legs finally give out and he flops onto his bed.

Fucking hell.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

What kind of question is that? Do you not think you’re pretty? Do you care if he, specifically, thinks you’re pretty, or was it intended more generally? Very pretty, very beautiful. What does that even mean?

Levi may not be eloquent in the least, may not know how to confess that you make his every breath burn in his chest, but he does know how to paint. He stands up, wiping sweaty palms on his flannel pants and examining the painting on his easel. His mom stares back, her eyes sparkling, her hair tumbling over one shoulder in ebony waves. It had taken him the last few days to get the curls just right, and when he added the last highlights of shine, it’d finally felt complete.

“Sorry, mama,” he murmurs as he lifts her to set her against the wall under the window.

A new canvas procured from his closet finds its place on the easel. He sifts through his supply drawers for a moment, setting paints and brushes and charcoal neatly on his desk.

He takes a deep breath, situates himself in his wheelie chair, and leans forward to start sketching.

—

It’s 5 AM when you start screaming in a long, shuddering cry, causing Levi to jolt up in his seat, paintbrush poised over your left temple. It breaks off into sobs that make his gut twist and hands clench. A long moment, then you’re letting out another keening wail and Levi is out of his seat. Paint splatters from the brush where he drops it on his desk and his chair rolls back as he runs, ripping doors open and narrowly avoiding furniture in the dark.

You’re sprawled out, thrashing on the bed, sheets tangled with your legs. Levi sits on the edge of your bed, brows pinched in worry, and reaches for your shoulders. This is okay — he can touch you when you ask for his help. When you whimper and reach for him in your sleep, he can pull you close and smooth a hand across the planes of your back. It’s when you’re looking at him, all trusting and expectant for something, that he’s unsure.

He says your name, low and urgent, once, twice, before your eyes open mid-sob. They’re wide and terrified, your jaw tight, muscles clenched. “It’s me, kid, it’s just me,” he intones, “It was just a dream, you’re safe, it’s just me.”

Your heaving chest slows for a second, hitches somewhere in your sternum, and then you’re launching yourself forward and into him. He catches you there, steady against his chest.

“Breathe.” He sets an example with his own deep breaths.

It’s a long minute before he feels you relax at all, before he feels you sigh against his neck. Your arms are tight around his middle and you must be stronger than you look because after a while it starts to pinch. He doesn’t mind, though, just traces patterns on your back and stares at the pale wall.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He feels you shake your head.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

You hesitate before you whisper, “Only if you stay.”

Levi thinks about the wet paintbrush currently drying to his desk. He thinks about the mess of clothes on your floor. He thinks of the half-finished painting of you in his room. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

You pull back, and he gets a look at your face in the near-dark. Your eyes are still acutely haunted, but they’ve regained awareness. He lets you take a moment to wipe at your cheeks as he reaches to gently disentangle the sheets and spread them more carefully over your legs.

He looks up at you again to catch your sad eyes with his. Your head is tilted quizzically, knowingly, sympathetically all at once as though he were the one who just woke up screaming. It makes him itch.

“What’s that look for?” he grumbles, toeing his slippers off and tucking them under your bed.

“Nothing,” you hum. “Come here, please.”

He blinks at you for a second. That’s my line. But he goes, crawling into bed with you and slipping under the covers. He lets you tug his arm gently so that he’s on your chest. He gets comfortable there, one arm thrown over your waist and head rested over your heart. Your own arms find a home cautiously around him. You exhale with the grounding pressure of his body on yours and let your mind sink into calm release.

—

The knock on your door breaks your attention from your laptop. You sigh, finish typing your sentence, and push your blue light glasses up your nose before standing up to answer it.

You’re not expecting anyone, but maybe Levi is. He’s been holed up in his room all morning, Chopin drifting lazily under his door, probably studying. Like you’ve been trying to. The second series of knocks on your door makes you jog the last few steps to pull it open.

“Hi—” the greeting dies in your throat when you see who’s standing there.

“Hi,” Annie says. She’s standing, nonchalant as ever, in her winter parka and leggings, holding two to-go cups and a pastry bag.

“What?” It’s a breathless question, genuinely confused. It doesn’t harbor the animosity you would expect — you’re not sure you can feel anything other than queasy right now.

“I got your voicemail.”

You blink in confusion. She rolls her eyes and thrusts the to-go cups at you with a brief “hold these” before reaching into her pocket for her phone. You just stare at her while she taps and scrolls for a minute. She looks the same as before you stopped speaking: blonde hair tucked into a bun at the back of her head and hoodie peeking out of the collar of her jacket. Maybe a little more tired, though Annie always seemed to be tired.

She holds up her phone for you to hear as a voicemail starts playing and, to your further shock, your own tinny voice spills out. It sounds like you’re crying, and slightly muffled.

“Annie, hi, um, I know it’s late but I couldn’t think of anyone else to call, I just,” sniffle, “I know we’re not talking and I’m still mad at you, like REALLY MAD, okay? But I couldn’t think of who else to call and long story short I think I’m in love with Levi and he might’ve just rejected me but I just couldn’t tell—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut in across your own voice, stepping into the hall with her and toeing the door almost shut behind you. She stops the voicemail. “But why are you here?” You know why she’s here — Annie never backs down from anything, and you had started the conversation, even if you’d been drunk and high and half asleep and you don’t really remember doing it.

“You called, here I am. That’s what best friends do.” Her tone is even.

“Not best friends who fuck their best friends’ boyfriends,” you snap, anger finally bursting from your stomach and into your throat.

She closes her eyes impatiently, sighs, then looks at you again not quite pleadingly.

“Look, if you want me to leave, I’ll leave. But I’m here now and there’s more to the story that you aren’t aware of.”

“What else could there possibly be?”

“Let’s go for a walk and I’ll tell you,” she offers, then holds up the pastry bag. “I brought coffee and donuts. They’re jelly.”

Jelly donuts are your favorite.

You look down at the cups in your hand. You look back at her steady blue gaze. More to the story.

“Fine.” You turn and kick the door open a little too harshly. “Just let me get dressed.”

She follows you in, even though you don’t extend an invitation, and closes the door softly. You put the cups down on the coffee table and watch her sit in her usual spot on the couch to wait for you out of the corner of your eye. You scowl but say nothing.

It only takes you a minute to shuck off to pajamas and pull on jeans, a sweatshirt, and boots. You don’t bother with a bra.

You knock lightly on Levi’s door and call through, “I’m going for a walk, so make sure to lock up if you leave. I have my keys.” You jingle them as evidence and he grunts in acknowledgment. “Let’s go,” you turn and address Annie, who stands.

The walk down your street to the river is short and habitual, your feet carrying you while your mind races. You can feel the anger and hurt, visceral and stabbing, in your chest. But there’s also something tender there, too, something that acknowledges how you missed your best friend. Something that screams at you to tackle her to the ground and feel her stoic comfort. Instead, you shove your hands deeper into the pockets of Eren’s jacket and kick a pebble, sending it skidding down the sidewalk.

The pair of you reach the walking bridge over the river and pause at the railing. The sky is overcast, threatening a snowstorm. A car beeps downtown, reaching you distantly. Annie hands you a coffee and a donut. You lean against the railing and avoid her gaze.

“So. You wanted to talk. Talk.” You bite into the donut.

She sighs through her nose. “I know what you saw. We… we did kiss, but we didn’t do anything else. We never had sex.”

“Hmm.” A sip of coffee.

“I know you have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. I’m guessing you didn’t exactly listen to Reiner when you broke up with him?”

“I didn’t have time for his bullshit excuses.”

She breaks off a bit of her donut and stares at it contemplatively for a moment, “I know you don’t owe either of us anything, and this isn’t meant as an excuse, but will you listen to why, at least?”

You press your lips together, sneak a look into her devastatingly blue eyes, and nod. What harm can it do? And you have to admit there’s a large part of you that’s been wondering at the why, even if you’ve refused to hear it.

“Okay. Tell me why.”

She takes a deep breath and leans her elbows on the railing before starting to speak, low and pensive.

“I’ve known Reiner and Bertholdt a long time, since we were kids. We’ve always been this… this odd group. You wouldn’t think we were close if you didn’t know us. But it wasn’t always just us.” She pauses, looking distant. “Do you know Porco Galliard?”

Galliard… “He’s a sophomore on the lacrosse team, right?”

“Yeah. Do you know what happened to his brother?”

“He has a brother?”

“Had. Marcel. He was a year older than us but somehow ended up in our little group. And a couple of years ago, senior year of high school, we were all in a car accident. He was home on winter break and we’d all had a little too much to drink, and we convinced him to take us to Denny’s for midnight milkshakes. And, well, there was a winter storm coming in and it’d been freezing rain that week, and we crashed. Marcel died. It was… I hadn’t…” She pauses, tilting her head back to the sky, blinking away tears. “It was horrible.”

Your eyes have gone wide, cast downriver. You don’t know what you’d expected when you walked down here, but it certainly wasn’t this. It wasn’t Annie, only rivaled in her stoicism by Levi, choking back tears and wiping snot from her nose.

“Hey,” you start, voice gentler than it’s been all day. “You don’t have to—”

“No, no, I want to, just... give me a second,” she interjects, wringing out a hand. She takes a deep, purposeful breath.

“Okay,” you whisper, looking back out across the water.

“It, uh, it hit us all really hard, brought us really close together. That’s why we all ended up at school here, actually. It kinda made us realize that, like, time is limited, you know? We don’t have forever. And Bertl, he…” she smiles, watery and reminiscent. “When he asked me out, it felt like a long time coming. It was just about perfect. He felt safe and like home, and… well, you know how in love we were. But I could see that it alienated Rei, at least a bit. He tried not to show it, but I could tell he felt like a third wheel. He was already drifting away from us, still struggling with all this guilt.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That’s a familiar feeling. Guilt. And yet, you’d never noticed it in Reiner, apparently never got close enough to shine a flashlight into his darkest shadows. He’d always seemed so… sunshiney. You clearly hadn’t given him enough credit to dislodge the aura of jock frat boy he projects so brightly.

Soft dough squishes under your fingertips where you’ve resorted to playing with your food instead of eating it as Annie continues.

“And then he met you and fell in love so fast. I was so relieved, I mean, you and I were roommates and it was just perfect, right?” You look at her and see a flicker of hopefulness still there. “I thought maybe you two getting together would bring him back to us, that maybe we’d be alright after all. And at first, it did. But then you moved off campus for sophomore year and he started drifting away again, though he was at least anchored to you, this time. It scared me, it really did.”

She kicks the bottom of the railing lazily, as if to expend the sadness there rather than in her words. The first fat flakes of snow drift down around you. One dances away on your exhale.

“He’s so withdrawn, sometimes, in his own head, and I never know how to reach him there. I didn’t know if he had told you about Marcel, or anything, so I couldn’t go through you. I don’t… I didn’t know what to do, so I just... let it fester. That night, when we kissed, I hadn’t seen him physically for a month. It hurt.”

She looks at you imploringly, like the weight of everything she’s saying lies on deep hurt. You can relate to feeling as though there’s nothing but hurt and guilt and drifting.

“So I figured out where he was from his Snapchat story, abandoned my group project, and went over there to see him. I didn’t know what I’d say or do when I got there, just that I had to get him back, somehow. He was already plastered, you know how he gets, and he wasn’t listening to me, so I just… kissed him. I don’t know what I was thinking, I didn’t know you were there, I didn’t even know you saw until he called me the next day after you broke up with him to chew me out.

“So, long story short,” her voice breaks on a mournful, almost hysterical laugh, “I fucked up the three most important relationships to me in one night because I couldn’t use my words.” She wipes at wet cheeks, not looking at you. “So, um. Yeah, that’s the why, I guess. I don’t expect you to forgive me, or him, but I just… I needed you to know. It wasn’t like, this elaborate affair.”

You aren’t sure how to right your brain from the way it’s tilted off kilter. It’s so much, so different from what you’d built up in your head. There’s no conspiracy, no grand intention to break you.

Even with all this new information, what stupidly slips out first is, “Did he kiss you back?” You blanch, turn to her with wide eyes, “Sorry, that’s not exactly im—”

“No, it’s fine,” she meets your eyes. “He did kiss me back.”

“Oh. Okay, um…” you trail off, bite your lip. You don’t know what exactly to say. Your skin is tight with the urge to forgive her immediately and wholly, but logic holds you back. Now that you know the truth, you need time to heal and get some perspective. You straighten up from where you’d been slouching against the railing. “Okay. You’ve been honest, so I will be, too.”

She stands up fully as well, facing you with one hand on the railing.

“I don’t know how I feel right now,” you start. “I think I need some time and perspective. But, I… I can see now where I went wrong, too. I assumed the worst, didn’t let any communication happen.” You swallow down the lump in your throat threatening to choke your voice. “And, I wasn’t there for Rei like I should have been. I had no idea — no idea! — what he was going through.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly tell you—”

“And why is that?” Your voice breaks, squeaks with the question. “Did he feel like he couldn’t confide in me? Did I make it too much about me and my trauma? I wasn’t exactly shy about telling him my shit.” You take a long draw of coffee. “Anyway. I should probably talk to him, shouldn’t I?”

She nods. “He’d like that.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, watching the sparse snow flurry around you. Annie finally starts eating her donut.

“I’ve missed you,” you confess into the storm. “A lot.”

“I missed you, too.”

Your chest aches with both the cold air and the conflicting feelings of relief and regret.

“Why, uh… why didn’t you tell me all that stuff about Marcel?”

She leans on the railing again, takes a sip of coffee before answering. “I was still working through it. Still am, rather. I didn’t know how to bring it up, or that it was relevant.”

You hum, nodding. “I get that.”

There’s another silence, but it feels lighter, less charged. There are still questions bouncing around your mind, but you decide it’s better to process through them on your own rather than blurting out something stupid. Perspective.

“So,” she shoots you a look under blonde eyelashes, “what’s this about you being in love with Levi?”

“Aw, shit,” you laugh, leaning your elbows back on the railing and giving her an imploring look. “It really snuck up on me.”

“Is that so? Can’t say I’m shocked.” Her tone is dry, a little amused around the last bite of jelly donut. She wipes her fingers on her leggings and faces you. “And you think he rejected you.”

“Well, I…” you cringe, thinking back to last night. “He called me very beautiful.”

“Doesn’t sound like a rejection.”

“It was the way he said it! Like it physically hurt him to admit, and then he just ran out of the room,” you whine, scrubbing a hand down your face.

“I think that’s just his emotional constipation.”

You look at her sharply, mouth agape, to catch her eyes dancing and the corner of her lip curling upward slightly. “Annie!”

“What? I’m right.” She finishes off her coffee, tilting back the cup to catch the last dregs of it. “He likes you, or he’s an idiot if he doesn’t.”

You narrow your eyes in doubt, mirroring her half-smile. “Hmm. We’ll see.”

“Yes,” she promises, crumpling up the pastry bag in her fist and stuffing it in her pocket. “We will.”

—

(read part 6 here)

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #snk fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfic #female!reader #levi ackerman #annie leonhart #swearing #intoxication #painter's hands and guatemalan coffee #valkyrie writes

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sparklingchan · 4 years

Text

Taste of Spring || Han Jisung (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Han.

Word count : 2.4k+

Warnings : Cuss words, slight mentions of heartbreak, not proof read. .

Genre : Fluff, slight angst , best friends to lovers AU.

Description : For Jisung, the world is either black or white - friendship or love. You happen to find yourself stuck in the grey.

A/N: Haven’t written an skz drabble in a while so yeah, here it is(whatever this is lol) and I’ve had this in my drafts for a whole month now. Damn. Sorry, Jisung.

I hope y’all like it <3

Enjoy!

You had not seen your best friend in what felt like ages when in reality it had only been two weeks or so. But you often find yourself missing him at odd hours ,at the most random moments these days.

"I'll be back before dinner. Take care of my cat. Please." You call out to your sister who sits on the couch , sipping some cucumber induced water that apparently burns calories, and watching a very brutal, violent TV show that you wouldn't even want to ask her about.

"Say hi to Jisung for me." she replies with a quirk of an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly grin. You roll your eyes but the heat has already tinted your cheeks and ears red by the time you exit your house and are walking down the street towards Han Jisung's abode.

As you continue on the road, you feel the taste of an incoming Spring in the air, sweet and full of love. You didn't know why or how or even if it were at all possible in the first place, but you could feel spring knocking on the door ,waiting to be welcomed in.

An old couple walks past you, hand in hand and eyes focused on each other and you inevitably catch yourself thinking about Jisung for some reason. You've both made a lot of fond memories during your spring breaks - you were both inseparable back then.

Even now you are inseparable but things are different.

He was your best friend and nothing more ,yet you find yourself questioning your true feelings towards the boy these days more often than not ,all whilst wondering when you had crossed over the line of wanting to be friends to something more.

"Oh,y/n! Come on in ,honey." Jisung's mother has been nothing but sweet to you throughout all 18 years of your life and you honestly blamed her for making you want to visit their place more often.

But then again, maybe it's not really the mother's hospitality that pulled you in, maybe it is her son's tooth decaying sweetness that brings out the deepest desires from your heart.

You walk into their house , a sense of familiarity washes over you just how it does whenever you walk into your own house too.

"He's in his room ,as usual. Go on. I'll send some snacks in for you." She adds, patting you softly on the shoulder.

Jisung's room is almost always a mess and sometimes one might even find the boy leaving a trail of garbage everywhere he goes, so you aren't surprised when you find a few crumpled piece of paper lying just outside his door. Clumsy little Han.

"Ji-" your words are cut short when you hear his voice from inside , as loud as ever, probably speaking to one of his friends who he also lovingly refers to as his babies(he sometimes calls you baby too ; on purpose or by accident, who knows?) But he seems very into the conversation right now - almost serious which you find rather unlikely for Han Jisung who has very proudly nicknamed himself as Comedian Han since eight grade.

It's the semester break and spring is around the corner - two things Jisung loves the most in the world so there should be no apparent reason for him to be having this deep of a conversation, especially early in the morning. However as his voice grows louder and more frustrated , you cannot help but wonder if there is actually something seriously troubling him.

Curious , you peek into the room through the small crack of the door.

"I know I'm being a coward Changbin but I can't do that to her. She's all I have ,man." he speaks into the phone , leaning down on his rotatory chair.

You freeze in your spot,your heartbeat resonating from every inch of your body. Who's he talking about?

"What? Are you out of your mind? I cannot tell her what I feel. That's the whole point of this damn phone call ,you fucker!" he yells.

You focus harder on their voices , trying to make out the gibberish Changbin replies with from the other end of the call.

Your body aches from standing so soundlessly, leaning half against the wall and half against the wooden door but you tell yourself to bear it for a little longer.

"No. No way. I can't. I can't do this to y/n!" Jisung hisses into the phone and then with a big pop, your bubble bursts -a bubble that you'd been building since you both were kids , designed carefully with dreams and hopes of a happy ever after with the boy in front of you. But you were weaving these dreams out of nothing but thin air. There never was anything to begin with and you always knew that.

Of course he has another girl in his life. He doesn't owe anything to you. You have no right to feel these strong emotions of jealousy and anger. You are just friends, right?

But imagining him with another woman was a poison you didn't put too much thought into until this very moment. You should have been prepared, really.

All hopes have left your side.

You turn around and walk out the same way that you came in , ignoring his mother's questions and concerned gaze.

You want to be alone right now. Alone and away from everything that ever connected you with Han fucking Jisung.

***

He is a peculiar man, your best friend , loud yet calm , talented yet humble,his songs make more sense than his words ever could - but he intrigues you so much. It would take you a lot of time to figure Han Jisung out and you had only hoped to solve this puzzle before.. well , before he chooses to hold someone else's hand in the walk of life while you just watch from a far.

And now, you've finally run out of that borrowed time. Without even finishing half of the puzzle . The last tick of your time together has tocked.

That night, as you let the arms of grief and heartbreak pull you in , your cat(also called Snowflake) cuddles right beside you, staring at you as if it understood you.

Maybe it did. Because even you couldn't understand yourself anymore.

***

"Y/n, wake the fuck up! Come on,open the door." Your sister bangs on your door while simultaneously throwing words at you that were extremely inappropriate for an early morning conversation.

Annoying bitch. She's never cared to wake you up in the morning all your lives. Why is she changing her ways now?

You groan into your pillow, "Go away! I'll be out when I want to."

Your eyes barely find enough strength to keep themselves open. Your body aches and the bedsheet creases on your skin show evidence of a very good night's sleep in contrary to the misery you were subjected to just a few hours before that.

A heavy heart induces a good sleep , you conclude.

"I literally do not care about what you want ,y/n!" She yells against,her fist pounding against the door with more force now than from a while ago,"Come out. Right this instant."

Snowflake - who was chilling on the floor, playing with her toys - jumps on the bed ,pressing her fluffy body against your chest ,eyes glazed with fear.

"Fine. Fine. Can you stop yelling? You're scaring my baby." You reply, taking Snowflake into your arms as you run a soothing hand through her white fur.

Forcing yourself out of bed , you waddle towards the door.

"What do you want?" You unlock the door and with hooded eyes , yell at your sister, "Can you not be so fucking annoying this early in the morning?!"

Instant regret is what you feel the moment your sister steps aside, and you see the blurry figure of Han Jisung in front of your bedroom door.

Pure terror seizes you ,as your brain loses all its ability to form any response in that moment, “Hi, y/n. Can we please talk?" Jisung says, his mouth twisted into a sad smile and his puffy eyes looking at the floor.

Has he been crying?

He wears his favorite black hoodie and a pair of grey track pants along with his SpongeBob flip flops. The bird nest on his head looks even more disheveled today, even so you find your heart beat fasten seeing this domestic look on him.

No matter what, Han Jisung is pretty.

Really pretty.

And if you were given a coin everytime you acknowledged it, you'd be a millionaire by now.

"Aw, Jisung honey, don't ask. Just walk into her room. I'm sure she's glad to see you too." Your sister replies in your stead ,sending glares towards you as if to say 'You better listen to him.'

And you're too shocked to react when he politely brushes past you and walks inside your room, settling himself at the edge of the bed. You make sure to shove a middle finger up in front of your sister's face before following suit .

Jisung's enquiries start the moment you step inside.

"I was so worried, y/n. You left my house without saying anything to anyone. Your phone was off. I wanted to come here but mom said you looked upset and that I should wait until the morning. " he sucks in a deep breath , "Y/n, baby, what the fuck happened?"

There's that word again. That damn word which has the ability to set your whole body on fire even on a cold morning like this one.

You hate the affect he has on you. You hate the affect his words have on you.

"Nothing." You mumble.

Snowflake wiggles out of your arms, and towards him.

Betrayer.

"Don't even lie to me. I am not that stupid." Jisung argues as Snowflake settles in his lap, "Y/n, have I not made it clear that I will be here for you, no matter what?"

You want to laugh. He really thinks you trust him so much that you'd tell him everything going on with you.

He's delusional - you can't possibly tell the boy you are in love with that he is the boy you are in love with. It's completely mental.

"I'm not in the mood for this conversation right now. Go home, Sungie." You say , sitting down on the bed, as far away from his warm body as possible.

Jisung sighs, "Not happening. You can call the police for all I care but I'm not moving my ass before you tell me what happened."

Snowflake snuggles into his tummy, Jisung's fingers giving her soft belly and ear rubs.

So this is what your life has come down to - you are jealous of your cat who is getting more affection from your best friend slash crush (who is interested in someone else) than you ever did. Brilliant.

"I fucking love you , you dumb fuck. Why do you never notice! "

Jisung's lips widen into a smile. Of course Jisung knew. He has always known. Only a blind person would not notice your not very subtle efforts to win his heart and make him fall for you. Maybe it was you who was a dumb fuck because you never figured out how much Jisung loves you too even after being best friends for so long.

"You hear that, Snowflake? You heard what mommy said? She said she loves me! " Jisung's eye's glint with happiness as he picks up Snowflake, peppering her with smooches, "Your mommy loves me!"

You stare at him , confused beyond anything.

Jisung turns to you, his big signature grin fixated on his lips , " Is that why you ran away yesterday? Because God decided to punch you with the realization that you are in love with me?"

You scoff, "No, I left because you and Seo Changbin were talking about the other girl who you referred to as 'all you have '. I didn't want to know what else you refer to her as."

Jisung laughs , his shoulders vibrating with the action and his hands finding their way towards yours(Ha! How's that Snowflake!)

"You said that you heard me talk about some other girl so you must have heard some name too ,right?" He questions you , his fingers clutching your hand as if he were afraid of you running off again.

"Yeah, of course I did!" you clap back , "I heard the name - " Your heart drops as the crystal clear memory from yesterday flashes into your mind.

Jisung raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin adorning his face, "Yes? What's that?"

Oh.

"You had said my name." you whisper.

You divert your gaze from him and focus on your clasped hands and how perfect they look together - like the sole purpose of their creation was to hold each other.

Jisung shifts closer to you , your mattress dipping under his weight.

"Yes. I said your name." He tucks a few strands of hair behind your ears , "I said that I couldn't lose you because you're all that I have. And I didn't want my romantic feelings toward you to change anything between us."

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when he leans toward your face.

"So y/n, Will you please stop assuming things and be my girlfriend ?" Jisung asks.

You free your hand from his and slide them around his torso, hugging him.

"Yes, yes." you whisper, "A thousand times yes."

He engulfs you in the warmest hug possible, his hand rubbing your side comfortingly while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

"Sungie look, its a butterfly." You break away from the hug momentarily to point at the yellow and blue winged butterfly that settles down on top of Snowflake 's head.

Snowflake snarls at it , trying to chase it away with her paws while you and Jisung giggle. With arms secured around the other.

"Spring is on its way, isn't it?" He asks you ,"You know what it means?"

"More green vegetables?"

"Shut up ,y/n, you're so unromantic!"

You guys giggle a little more.

"No, but seriously ,what does it mean?" you ask , looking up at him from his chest.

Jisung presses a sweet, heartwarming kiss to your head , "New beginnings. Blossoming of New things."

Hs stares at you like he's trying to say something to you without using words and you like to be believe that you are able to get what he wants to say ; it's a new beginning for you guys.

Because you've finally crossed over this border line of friendship and stepped into the zone of no return, exiting the grey area you disliked so much.

And you know every second of it will be beautiful.

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lovecolibri · 3 years

Text

Things that did NOT Spark Joy-3x01

Whoooo boy, y’all. This is a SALTY one. All the good stuff is in the Sparks Joy post. For this one, I think I’ll put the thing’s I’m a little confused or frustrated about first and then the rest of it under the cut just as an added layer of protection for anyone who wants to avoid the really salty bits.

We are still seeing a Liz who is too busy and caught up in what she’s doing to think about her friends, which Alex called her out for in season 1 and it...has not changed. Which, girl, I get caught up in things too and hyper focus sure is a Thing That Happens, but she didn’t set an alarm or reminder or anything about the several days Kyle was in town? I love Liz, I do, but if they wanted to spend this season focused more on friendships, this isn’t a strong start for her.

Liz told Max if she ran again, she wanted him to chase her, and is sad he didn’t come, but she also made it pretty clear when she left that she needed some time away from him, so how is he supposed to know when it’s been long enough? He’s not (as far as we know) a mind-reader Liz! The show wants to have Liz be this “strong woman who doesn’t need a man”, but at the same time, this woman who is waiting around for this one man without ever telling us why she even wants Max! They tried to go with the “oh he’s kind and soft” thing, but he also has to be a macho police man so he tends to lash out in anger. It’s such a weird amalgamation of characteristics and inconsistent writing and it’s so frustrating! And Liz is constantly paired off with all these smart medical science dudes I guess as a contrast to Max? But it undercuts their soulmate story and makes it more glaring that we haven’t been told or shown what Liz loves so much about Max, just that she does and it causes her problems. I want them to really dig in this season to why Liz is so drawn to Max and some of the interviews we’ve seen hint at that which I’m excited about because I want to root for them. They are endgame and we know it and I feel like c*rina took that for granted and just...never bothered to tell us why.

Welp. Max is dying again. I’m tired and I don’t caaaaaaare.

But also! By Max not telling Michael and Isobel (or Liz) that he’s dying, he’s still doing that thing where he thinks he knows best and decides for everyone else how things should be handled.

On that note, there’s this big push that Liz is finally “putting herself first” which I get because of how they didn’t allow her to be mad at Max for long enough in season 1 and season 2 didn’t give her nearly enough time with Rosa actually paying attention to her sister that was raised from the dead after a decade. But on the other hand, again, Liz is always putting herself and her science work first to the point that even after Max was alive again she was still too busy for Rosa, now she forgets Kyle is coming for a visit, and she didn’t even stop to think that in her rush to release proprietary information she could get someone else fired along with her. I just want to see them address that Liz has this issue like Alex did in season 1. It’s great that she has flaws! But they can’t really be “flaws” if she never faces consequences (like friends speaking up) so I’m hopeful with her and Alex getting scenes this season we will see Liz being allowed to have her flaws addressed by more than just her and Max having fundamentally different ideas on how to handle absolutely everything. Jeanine seems really excited about this season so I’m looking forward to what this season has in store for her.

Max is still shoving Michael around which I’m also Very Tired of.

Also....like, Max is drinking a LOT now? And straight up shooting acetone?! Like, I know the show has a lot of casual drinking but Max has a full-on flask he is taking with him everywhere and it is noticeable, but I can’t quite tell if it’s on purpose so we notice that Things Are Bad for him? Because Isobel and Michael don’t seem concerned and joke about no more truth exercises after that much tequila. But given that they continually have Liz, who has a family history of addiction and even thought she might be having the same mental health issues she knew her mom and sister were self-medicating for, constantly drinking for getting high with m*ria I’m not holding out hope that it’s something intentional that will be addressed.

But also, Max had to “shoot up” immediately after one little power burst in the mindscape, but he’s fully using powers to bury/dig up that box? Dude, grab a shovel and stop taxing your dying heart!

Also we still have m*ria and Max refusing to listen to their doctor which, whatever, but Liz is out there trying to fight for funding to research something to save m*ria when they already have something that works but m*ria refuses to use it as a stop-gap to give Liz the time to do more research.

I don’t hate the new lady, she’s got a killer voice and is apparently also going to be a reporter? And they make it clear that it’s a one-night-stand thing, but I’m so tired of this soulmates show having Max mope around and say he can just never, ever, get over Liz and then turn around and take all his feelings for her and use some other woman to work them out on. Like, he’s supposed to be a writer! Go write some sad AF poetry and get some sleep like a normal person and stop using women’s bodies as a receptacle for the feelings you don’t know how to deal with.

It’s just such a typically CAM thing to have built up Project Shepherd and had it running a whole ass alien experimentation prison basically since the 40′s and it ends with a throwaway line that Alex (who is still in the military based on his AWOL comment to Forrest) has spend the last year “shutting it down”. What does that even meeeeean?! Please tell me he’s heard of Deep Sky before and it’s something that came up in his work or is related to Project Shepherd or something. But given how unsatisfying the end was for Jesse Manes, I’m not holding my breath. (I will DIE MAD about BAMF Alex saying he was going to destroy what his dad loved and make him watch and then we didn’t get it.)

what does Greg mean when people ask him about “the accident”? Like, there were whole ass witnesses to him shooting his dad in the middle of a carnival? But they made it sound last season like he died a hero saving people and that’s why he got the statue? But now suddenly it’s why Greg can’t get dates because everyone knows he had something to do with it? WHY does c*rina continue to retcon things ONE EPISODE apart?! It doesn’t matter if it’s across seasons, it’s still one episode removed from the event! I was already so confused about how they handled Jesse’s death, but now I’m even more confused!

I’m very confused about Alex’s line that Project Shepherd got everything wrong, but what if someone out there is doing things right. Because a) a super shady, secret organization is definitely hiding anything horrifying for sure, and b) doing WHAT right?! Alien experimentation? Or did he just mean like, doing “first contact” right in a way where they work with aliens and not immediately start a war? It’s...very unclear.

On that note, things were ridiculous right after the episode because NO ONE could figure out what it meant that Alex didn’t go with Forrest. Because Forrest IS with Deep Sky, but he’s going out of town so then if Alex goes with him he WON’T be recruited? Alex staying behind and letting the guy from Deep Sky leave meant he DID want to join Deep Sky? Could they have made it any more confusing? I guess it wouldn’t be one last c*rina episode if there wasn’t a plot that no one could figure out what the fuck was going on! 🙃

Okay, so it’s time for the REALLY salty salt! I’m going to put this part first above the cut because it’s where most of my issues with the episode come from. I always said I knew they absolutely would not just throw m*ria under the bus or actually call her out for being a horrible friend last season. With c*rina gone they want to move forward and put that season and the bad press around it behind them. But there were a few small, subtle things they could have done to mitigate the damage from last season specifically in regards to m*ria’s relationship with Alex, and Michael. We could have seen Alex suggesting other places to meet besides the Pony, we could have seen absolutely no mention of her from Alex at all (he didn’t mention Michael at all so it’s not like it’s hard), or just had some subtle nudges that Alex isn’t as fine with things as he appeared last season. I still have hope that we will get a little of that for Malex to try and repair the damage c*rina did to their love story by not allowing Alex to be upset in any capacity, and forcing Michael to choose m*ria over and over and re-”break up” with Alex a hundred times instead of showing the tension of Michael trying to be with someone else but still choosing Alex.

However, they didn’t do any of that, and actually really doubled down HARD on a lot of things from last season that were major issues with m*ria’s character. Now, I know c*rina wrote this episode, but they had said some tweaks were made to the script. I don’t know if there was a certain percent of the script that had to be kept in order for her to have the writing credit, but no matter what, she was not there by the time they shot the episode so even if the dialogue was kept, there were directing and acting choices that could have been made to mitigate some of the damage and that was not done either. I know a lot of people just want to sweep season 2 under the rug but quite frankly, totally ignoring what happened last season and not addressing it in ANY way isn’t going to fix the issue with m*ria, and is actually going to make it worse. There were several people who were waiting for this season so they could “like” m*ria again in the hopes she would be back to more of her season 1 self. That was never going to be me, but I was rooting for you all! However, this episode gave us exactly the same m*ria from last season which again, c*rina wrote the episode but choices were made in how that dialogue was handled and it all just doubled down on m*ria from last season. Did anyone feel like this was the new m*ria you’d been waiting for?

Maybe she’ll get better in the next couple of episodes but as far as a “new premier” episode to set the tone for the rest of the season, the choice they made with her character are not giving me ANY hope that she will get better. The writing for her might put her more central to the plot and may not revolve around Michael like it did last season, but I don’t see her actions and attitude changing, so they can tell me all day that Alex still thinks of her as a friend but until they show her actually taking responsibility for her actions (which they won’t because she’s perfect and can do no wrong and even if she does no one can acknowledge it and has to keep propping her up as The Best Friend To Ever Exist), then I’m going to continue to be utterly unable to watch her character or the way she treats Alex and Michael. So, as you last warning, this bit is 100% not m*ria or m*luca friendly and it’s definitely not friendly towards her relationship with Greg, and also has some of my more salty complaints about f*rlex, so enter at your own risk!

First of all, I think the dialogue with f*rolex has been talked to death but it was...cringey at best and here’s hoping with c*rina gone we don’t have to see that again. I’m going to stick with my personal headcanon that Alex saw f*rrest wanted to have a serious talk and he panicked and fell back on using sex as a distraction (kinda like m*ria used it every time she didn’t want to hear anything Michael had to say). I posted here about how the lines could hit different based on the people involved but it was...not a good look for a character we hardly know, and a side ship we have seen next to nothing about.

Now, the “Do I have competition” line is pure CAM doing The Most to undercut Malex just like always because giving how pressed she was about what she saw of 3x01 she had every intention of dragging f*rlex out for multiple episodes if not most of the season. But I like that Alex throws that back in f*rrest’s face by mentioning they weren’t exclusive which implies some competition. And f*rrest isn’t stupid, he clearly knows that song was about someone else, and possibly knows it was about Michael specifically.

As mentioned above, I do NOT think it was a wise choice to keep pushing the Alex/m*ria friendship when it could so easily have been left out of the episode. It was a choice to have Alex mention m*ria was texting him about getting back into town (also a choice I will discuss more later to have her and Greg mentioned in the same scene 🙄), and a choice to have Alex and Kyle meeting inside at the Pony instead of one of their houses, or outside on a park bench, or in the Crashdown, or even outside at the Pony like we saw Michael was, even though m*ria mentions he hasn’t been around. And the fact that they went out of their way to not only not address anything from last season between Alex and m*ria (though of COURSE m*ria get’s to be bitchy to Michael about it because she has hurt feelings after she never had anything nice to say to or about him and the was the one to break up with him, while Alex continues being her faithful friend and bar patron. I hate it here.), but are actively doubling down on that friendship is really making all my fears about them not even doing the barest minimum to address last season come true. I talked a little bit here about some of my fears of them either totally ignoring last season and/or forcing Alex and Michael to be m*ria/m*luca apologists and I really feel that not addressing it at all is the wrong choice. Again, I was not holding out for Alex blowing up at m*ria because I knew that would never happen, but they easily could have not had him say anything about her in this episode and with c*rina gone they could have just put distance between their characters which would be a way of addressing it without having to have Alex say anything and I could have even lived with that miniscule effort but we couldn’t even get that, but got them forcing that friendship even MORE. 🙃🙃🙃

On top of all of that, after what happened last season and specifically what happened in 2x06, putting m*ria with GREG of all people I think is another MASSIVE misstep, though of course people who were fans of that episode seem to agree with m*ria that her getting as close to Alex’s dick as possible is “cute” and they can’t wait for it. 🙄 But as someone who was finally happy for Alex to have ONE SINGLE PERSON that wasn’t trying to kill him or Michael actually acknowledge that Michael was massively important to Alex was so great last season and such a balm for what we had to put up with all season with Alex. So to have m*ria get to have that too is such a slap in the face, I literally cannot with how pissed I am about that choice.

As for Greg, he felt like such a different person but we didn’t know a lot about him last season and he did remember Isobel for a prank she pulled so him being a bad boy isn’t like, the worst thing to happen, but having him specifically going after m*ria after being the only one to stand up for Alex last season, an specifically saying he wished he would have stood up for Alex more, is just ridiculous. If anyone was going to get to be upset on Alex’s behalf if was Greg and now we see he can’t even be bothered to give the side eye to the woman who dated the man Greg knows Alex is still in love with and knows exactly what he means to Alex? That is the personality transplant I’m not happy with, and now I’m just holding out hope that he’s either actually Greg’s twin Clay, or he’s been evil this whole time and was working with Deep Sky and took his dad out on purpose. I was so excited to see more of him this season and now I’m absolutely done. And my poor Belmanes heart! I know some people are sill hoping for it to happen and who knows, it could, but I am SO UNBELIEVELY TIRED with shows just playing musical beds with all their characters because they have nothing better to do with them in their spare time but all fuck each other in rotating shifts and I just can’t.

As I talked about here, I don’t think Michael and m*ria ever worked as a banter couple because they were always on unequal footing so while they might have been trying to bring that energy from season1 back is absolutely does not work after everything that happened in season 2. m*ria ending things with Michael, but she also never had nice things to say to or about him so her being catty now about Alex when she absolutely knows that Alex hasn’t been in town is just SO unbelievably bitchy I was in shock. What right does she have to play the sad, jilted, bitter girlfriend after ALL of the shit she pulled last season?! This was another choice I’m utterly baffled about them keeping. And don’t get me started on the people thinking that scene was really cute and a soft scene for m*luca. She is literally dragging him about something she knows he is hurt and sensitive about for no reason other than to specifically hurt him. And then she has the audacity to try and reach out and touch him after purposefully saying something to hurt him? How anyone can think that is cute relationship material is beyond me. Plus you have her again talking shit about Michael behind his back. But where as we got to see Alex defending Michael every time that happened, now we get to see Greg “I know what he means to Alex” being too busy trying to prove his dick is bigger and more self-destructive so m*ria will pay attention to HIM now and I just... *screams into pillow* And if we can stop with the “m*ria just has to bat her eyes and everyone will fall all over themselves to do whatever she wants because she’s just SO irresistible” that would be fucking great.

Something else I’m confused about though, is m*ria calling Michael self-destructive, when the show tells us he’s actually been doing really well and getting his life together. BUT ALSO, m*ria mentions Michael hasn’t been around at the Pony, but at the start of the episode shows him having what is implied as a regular Pod Squad gathering at...the Pony where it’s also implied they have all had a lot to drink with Michael’s quip about no truth exercises after that much tequila. Would it be too much to expect the show to not contradict itself MULTIPLE times in the same episode?

And instead of trying to do anything at all to address m*ria’s behavior last season, they decided we needed to make her a more sympathetic character by showing her being “super cool and badass” and suffering what is for sure going to be a racial hate crime given what we know about the season which is...just so lazy.

And as a couple final, small, petty complaints, I don’t like that two years down the line after all the buildup for Malex, they are starting to use “cosmic” for Echo. And I don’t like that f*rlex got a forehead bump like we have been WAITING to see again for Malex.

Stop. Undermining. Malex.

#roswell nm #season 3 spoilers #things that did not spark joy #oh god this is so long #i just have a lot of feelings #and most of them are salty #anti miluca #anti maria deluca #anti forlex #i am so tired of looking at this #my brain is so *static noises* this week #*hands you incomprehensible BS* i maked this

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alienoresimagines · 3 years

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Heart Meet Break | Eugene Sledge x Gender Neutral!Reader

Requested by Anonymous : Hi could you please write number 1 prompt list imagines “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it" with Eugene Sledge?

A/N : Here we are after 9 weeks without posting and more than one year after receiving this request!😂😅 Hope y’all didn’t forget about me 🤣 and that you are all safe for this holidays season To be honest I had written this in october but I’m posting it just now because.. well I have no idea but it’s here now ;) (actually I do and it’s because @inglourious-imagines kicked my a**) I started so many times and I’m not completely pleased with how it turned out but I hope you’ll enjoy! Also a big thank you to @punkgeekchic for beta reading, hope you’re doing okay darling see you in January!💙💙Title from Heart Meet Break de Liam Payne, also stream his songs please!😘

Taglist : @murphyism @mavysnavy @speirs-sexy-ass @order-of-river-phoenix @inglourious-imagines @liebegott @tvserie-s-world @stressedinadress @warrior-healer

Posted : 23/12/2020

Masterlist Taglist Prompts

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You could feel the beginning of a headache building behind your eyelids, and the welcomed pain in your feet after hours of passing on your bedroom's floor in a circle. Bringing a hand to your face to pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a long sigh, you let yourself fall onto your bed with a quiet flop. As soon as your back hit the soft sheet, the urge to go back to your feet and do something came back in a rush. A distraction would save your floor.

"[Y/N]! Could you take out the trash, please, dear?" Her sudden call startled you, too lost in your thoughts but you were quick to answer, knowing already there was only one good answer.

"I'm coming, mom!" You shouted back, putting on your shoes in a slow pace. A distraction was your floor's savior but definitely not your heart's or mind's. You could only pray you'd meet your neighbor while walking through the yard.

The stairs were cracking under your steps, as you still didn't know if you should feel nervous or hopeful. The twist in your stomach was a mix of both, the sweat on your palms said it all.

Always so thoughtful, your mother had put the trash bag just next to the front door, ready to be taken out.

"Ah, [Y/N], while you're out, could you bring this to the Sledges? Mary has been kind enough to share her pie with us, the least I can do is bake her one too." Your mother appeared at the door between the entrance and the kitchen with what you guessed was a plate wrapped in a clean cloth.

The years passing didn't do her past beauty's justice but her eyes hadn't changed, nor did the way she looked at your father.

"Sure, I'll go to the library after, do you know if Father needs anything?" You smiled, taking the package from her wrinkled hands carefully as she smiled at you, shaking her head in denial.

With the black trash bag in one hand and the white cloth covering the quite heavy pie, you went out, but not before kissing your mother's cheek.

The warm air of this beginning of autumn was like the wind of freedom after having spent the day in your bedroom like a lion in a cage. You were about to take a deep breath when you remembered the trash bag in your hand. Right. No matter how good and sweet your mother's pie was and smelled, your nose still felt attacked by the trash. When you finally had put the black bag where it belonged you started to walk out of your parents' property, heading to the house next door. His house. All the feelings and thoughts you had forgotten came back, overwhelming you and making your legs shake.

"Deacon! Deacon, where are you going?" Either your lucky star was laughing at you or pitying you. You'll decide tonight, hidden under your sheets with all your dreams and hopes.

Just a few seconds later, a small dog went panting at your legs, presenting his head for ruffles. You chuckled and kneeled down to his level, giving him what he craved for.

"Good boy aren't ya, Deacon?" Cooing, you couldn help the warmth that spreaded through your chest, and refused to acknowledge the man with the bicycle approaching you.

"[Y/N]! I didn't think I'd found you here." His tone was nervous and unsure as if he would've rather stayed silent. In some ways, you would've wished too.

"Fortunate we're neighbors, huh?" You heard him gulp and, with all the strength you could muster, you found in yourself all the treason, sadness, anger, uncertainty, confusion and hurt to finally face Eugene. Getting up, you looked at the sweet boy from next door in the eyes, searching for his thoughts.

"You've been avoiding me." He flinched. Your tone was harsher and colder than you intended, making you feel a pang of guilt but you didn't let it show. Instead, you crossed your arms on your chest, to protect yourself from things you didn't know.

"I- Hurting you was never my intention, it was actually what I wanted to avoid the most. But it'd seem I only hurt you more, I'm sorry, [Y/N]. " He was sincere, you could see it and it was harder to stay bitter about it. Your pride and feelings have been wounded, that much was a fact, but deep inside, you knew you simply couldn't be mad at sweet, loving boy Eugene. Heart and legal things.

"Can we be friends and not strangers again?" If you were in the right state of mind, you probably would've answered something witty and watch him laugh at you but you had enough of your games. The said and the unsaid, the little gestures and the avoidance.

"We're not just friends and you fucking know it, Gene. We've always been more and if you don't want anything to do with it, it's okay. But don't you dare act as if we don't know each other and the next day as if we were best friends. We're more than that, you are more than that to me." And I hope I'm more than that to you too. From the sad and wounded look on Eugene's face, your unspoken thoughts must've been obvious. Like a fish out of water, he opened then closed his mouth, furrowing his eyebrows as he fumbled over his words. Finally, he spoke a meteors shower over your fragile world, crushing and burning it down.

"I enlisted. I'm leaving tomorrow." Whatever was left from your previous anger died in your throat and your heart started beating faster and faster in your chest.

"What? When? What about your condition?" You blurted out, not believing what Eugene just said. He smiled thinly at you, like he didn't know if he should let you see just how happy and proud he was to finally be able to enlist.

"I went to the marines office two weeks ago; as soon as I knew it was gone." Tears started to well in your eyes, your entire body to shake uncontrollably.

"Oh. That's... that's good. You must be relieved." You forced yourself to add just a bit of happiness in your tone for him, for you knew just how important it was to him, no matter how much your heart was breaking. Eugene gave a small nod, his fingers playing with the handlebars of his bike. At your feet, Deacon was sitting still, his tongue out and his head going from you to Eugene, and from Eugene to you, as if he was understanding far more than he was letting you know.

"I'll do my part." There it was. The pride, excitement of a young man going straight into a wolf's open mouth. What felt like hours was in fact just a few minutes, not even 5 but your mind was replaying it like a movie in a theater. At that moment, it hit you like a truck. Two weeks. The last time you've both been yourself together also was two weeks ago. You swallowed back the knot in your throat and prayed your voice wouldn't shake as much as your hands were, hidden behind your back in an awkward formal position.

"When were you going to tell me?" His silence said everything you needed to know as he shifted uncomfortably, his head down in shame and sorrow. He looked at you again through his eyelashes, apologies and guilt in his eyes but you couldn't take it anymore. Eugene was too kind for his own sake, wouldn't hurt a fly and by wanting not to hurt you ended up harming you in one of the most twisted ways. It hurt because you couldn't be mad at him, that his intentions were good and genuine. You took a deep breath and made a step ahead, one hand clenching on Eugene's white shirt, looking at him in the eyes. If yours were narrowed and dark, his were widened and looking everywhere but at your face.

"You better not die, you hear me? You come back, in one piece and we'll sort it out. At all costs, you come back!" You almost shouted to his face, not caring if the whole street had gone out to see you. Eugene's gentle hands came over yours, squeezing it lightly. In your wounded pride and building fear, you refused to face him and see his reaction, knowing perfectly you'd find compassion, and sweet understanding.

Forcing the once forgotten home-made pie wrapped in a white clean cloth onto Eugene's chest, you've waited to see his hand cover it before you turned around, fighting the urge to rub your eyes so the moisture in them would go.

"For your mother. From mine." You whispered between two heavy breaths, nails digging into your palms painfully.

Before Eugene could fully apprehend what was happening and get out of the trance he was in, you were already in front of your house, looking at the floor.

"[Y/N], wait, [Y/N]!" You didn't look back, even though you ached to. But in a few hours he wouldn't even be in town anymore so what was the point? You just felt numb and empty, as if floating over your own body. Closing the door behind you, you walked up the stairs in silence and came into your room, your legs giving up on you as soon as the door closed.

You weren't sure how long you stood there, knees up to your chest, arms surrounding them and head buried in the safe spot it made. Your throat was still tight, making it hard to breathe.

Perhaps, it all would've been better if you hadn't spoken to him.

Silence would've been preserved, fragile but there. Now all you could hear were those words said with so much pride and relief over and over again.

I enlisted.

All you could hear was the sound of your heart breaking.

#the pacific fanfic #the pacific imagine #the pacific x reader #eugene sledge imagine #eugene sledge x reader #my writing

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bungou-stray-dingus · 4 years

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Unobtainable

Pairing : Poe x Fem!Reader

A/N : I write about this topic too much, and I know I do. But I promise the next four angst scenarios have nothing to do with this stuff! Anyway, I hope y’all won’t cry as much as I did while writing this.

T/W : Pregnancy ; Death; Stillbirth ; Devastation ; Sadness ; Angst

Word Count : 2.2K

Angstember Day 6

He was always on edge, always so sure that he never deserved the joy that you gave him. When the two of you had gotten married, he was positive that you would end up leaving him, that you would find someone better than him. You promised him that you would never, that you loved him dearly, and you promised him the same thing every day for the last five years. When you brought up starting a family, he was downright terrified, the idea of becoming a father didn't sit well with him. He didn't deserve you, he most definitely didn't deserve one of your children. What if he hurt them? What if he wasn't the father they needed? He couldn't fathom it. It was you who reassured him that it would be okay, that he would be the perfect father, telling him all the wonderful things he could do and teach his child as his mind filled with beautiful images of him, you, and his child.

When you had become pregnant he honestly thought you were joking, that it was just some type of sick joke that you were playing on him. He had a hard time believing that he could ever be that lucky. He had you, the most perfect girl in the universe, a girl that he could have never written in the pages of any of his books, but here you were, and now you were saying that you were carrying his child.

It took a couple weeks for him to actually come to terms that you were legitimately pregnant. Even after seeing the positive tests, he was scared that it was a false positive, always so pessimistic. he refused to accept the tests for what they were. It wasn't until that first doctors appointment, seeing his child on the screen, sure, it looked like a tiny little bean, but that's when it was validated, and he felt like he could actually be happy.

He didn't waste any time, he wanted to let his child know that he loved them already, and that he would always be there for them. Nights were spent with him laying his head carefully on your stomach, smiling up at you as you ran your fingers through his hair. He looked so peaceful, so content, so happy, and seeing him this way made it hard for you to believe that he had ever been worried in the first place. Some days he would spend in his makeshift office, writing out stories that he could tell his child, stories that had beautiful scenery and friendly characters, stories that he spent hours on just to be sure they would be perfect when the child was finally here.

Weeks turned to months, your stomach slowly began to grow larger with his child. Every second he could find, his hands were all over your abdomen, his smile never fading whenever he touched you. Things were perfect, you had never seen him smile so much, not even when you had first gotten married. To him, everything was falling into place, to him, this child was like the missing chapter in a novel that he was working on, and he could finally say that his story was complete.

You both found out that you would be bringing a baby girl into the world, and he was over the moon, he was ecstatic. If anyone looked close enough, they would have seen a small tear fall from the corner of his eye, but you were the only one who had caught it. His hand was wrapped tightly in yours as your daughter showed up on the screen, her tiny fingers brought up to her mouth, an ultrasound image that had been printed and carried around with him everywhere.

Her name was chosen as soon as you found out, and when her nursery room was painted, he had painted it in perfect script across the wall. He had picked the name, something that he was quite excited about doing, much to your surprise. Edlyn Grace, a name he whispered against your tummy often. His love for your daughter seemed to grow more and more with every passing day. It all was becoming more real, she had a name, her room was ready, her closet was filled, everything was ready for her to be here.

"What do you think she'll be like, love?" He asked one morning as you sat at the table. He brought you over a cup of tea, the steam still billowing from the top of the cup. You blew the steam away as you brought the cup up to your lips, carefully sipping before answering.

"I think she'll be perfect. She'll be loved, doted over, cherished, as any child should be. Maybe even more." You smiled up at him as you set the cup down, feeling her kick against your stomach, as if letting you know that she heard you talking about her. You rubbed your stomach to soothe her and he took a seat next to you, watching your hand.

"She'll be happy though, right?" He looked up at you and you could see the small hint of worry in his eyes as he asked the question. You reached out to cup his cheek in your hand, his hand moving up to place it over yours. "That's a stupid question, I'm sorry." He dropped his gaze, and you shook your head.

"It's not a stupid question. I want her to be happy, you want her to be happy, and I'm quite positive she will be. How could she not be. You're going to be an amazing father, she's lucky to have you." You leaned over to kiss him, feeling his lips pull up when you did so. You couldn't take all his fears away, every father had lingering doubts about how good they'll be, but you could do your best to let him know that everything would be okay, and that's exactly what you did.

Time had passed quickly, it seemed like in the blink of an eye you had gone from just finding out that you were pregnant to being thirty weeks in. You only had ten weeks left, and up until now everything had been going flawlessly.

You had woken up one morning with a strange back pain, it had made it almost impossible to even get out of bed, but you didn't want to worry Poe, so you toughed it out, hoping that maybe you had slept wrong. It seemed like a logical reason, you didn't feel anything else was off, your back just hurt. You went through the day, trying you best to not let on that anything was wrong. Poe stayed close, but that was just how he was, he gravitated towards you and the baby, so you had to keep a strong face the entire time.

The pain lasted for a while, and it wasn't getting any better. You tried multiple different sleeping positions, and once you had told Poe about it, he had went out and bought you a multitude of different pillows that he thought would help ease your pain. You hadn't actually worried, not until you woke up one morning, your legs wet, the bed sheets stained red, that's when you started panicking.

You backed away from the bed, one hand over your stomach, the other covering your mouth as you stared down at the stain on the bed. It was too much blood, you knew it wasn't good. You screamed Poe's name, calling him in from the kitchen. He had been making breakfast for you, trying to help you relax so your back wouldn't hurt, but when he walked in and saw the bed, then looked over to you, his mind went blank. What was he supposed to do? This wasn't normal. No. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Dreams shattered, his story all but thrown away as he watched the doctors quickly slice your abdomen open. He wasn't there, not mentally, not emotionally. He was standing right next to you, but he couldn't accept the outcome, the outcome that the doctors had told him was inevitable. No cameras allowed, "it's not something you'll want to remember, sir" they had said as they wheeled you down the hallway towards the operating room, the mask already placed over your face to put you to sleep.

He watched as the doctors pulled his daughter out, she was beautiful, her hair was matted in blood and fluid, but she didn't cry. She couldn't cry. She was gone. She didn't move, she didn't breathe. The doctor quickly handed her off to the nurse standing behind him, as if he hadn't already seen her. His eyes followed the nurses as they whisked her away out of the room. He was emotionless, he couldn't feel anything, not anger, not sadness... nothing.

The doctors began murmuring to each other, the bleeding won't stop, they needed to take it out. He wasn't sure what they were talking about, but he was sure that once you had woken up they would explain everything to the two of you.

Edlyn Grace, she was born dead, not one breath taken, her lips were already a dark shade of purplish blue when they had pulled her out. She had passed away before she was even born, there was no chance of saving her at that point. The doctors had said that somehow the placenta, her life line in a way, had become detached from the uterine wall. They never really gave you or him a hypothetical explanation for how it could have happened, only offering their sympathies after explaining that your daughter had died.

There would be no hope for another child in the future, all dreams of having a family of your own were long gone. The doctors had to remove your uterus due to not being able to stop the bleeding. Not only had you lost your daughter, but you had lost any chances of anymore pregnancies, of another baby, all in the same day.

You weren't sure what hurt worse, the pain of the stitches from the c-section, or the pain of listening to the doctor tell you that your dreams would never come true.

She was cremated, her ashes in a small pink urn that was placed carefully on the dresser top in her nursery. The walls in the room were now lined with pictures, the only pictures you and Poe would ever have with her. At first glance they looked like happy family portraits with you cradling her against your chest, it probably looked like tears of happiness were streaming down your cheeks as you stared down at her, but you and he both knew that wasn't the case.

You and him were only allowed an hour and a half to spend with her before they had to take her away again. Poe never cried, not one tear fell. He was trying to stay strong for you while also trying to come to terms with everything. He had been the one who called the funeral home to ask for her to be cremated, as you hadn't been able to talk at the time, not coherently at least. When he held her, he held her close against his chest, his head bowed and pressed against hers. He whispered to her, and even now you don't know what he had said, but you never asked, and you didn't plan on asking either, some things just needed to stay private.

When her ashes were to be picked up from the funeral home, you both went together. You noticed that his eyes would often drift to the back seat of the car where her car seat was hooked up. He refused to get rid of it, at least for now, worried that she would be upset if her things were quickly removed. He was silent most of the time, moving through the house like a ghost. Sometimes he would stop to wrap his arms around you, kissing your forehead as you broke down in tears against his chest. No words were exchanged, but they weren't needed, you both knew how the other felt, and talking about it would only make it harder.

Her foot and hand prints were framed and placed on both sides of her urn. Her memory box that had only her hat and the blanket she had been wrapped in was set up behind the urn, a beautiful pastel pink box with a white ribbon tied around it. What was once a room where she would sleep, was now a room where her spirit would rest forever. Her crib was never touched, her clothes and toys would slowly but surely soon grow layers of dust, but they would never be removed.

Some nights you would feel the bed shift, he would quietly leave the room, but you never followed. You knew where he was going. He did it almost every night, and you would listen closely, his choked off sobs and sniffles echoed through the empty halls of the house, mixed in with the sound of the creaking rocking chair.

You never knew, and you never asked what he did in the room. It was his private moments with her, and he deserved it. He would sit in the rocking chair, carefully untying the ribbon of the memory box and gently pulling out her blanket. He held it close against his chest and finally let himself cry. True happiness was unobtainable, it had been stolen from him, and he would never understand why.

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samwrights · 4 years

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Baby Fever

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it 600 times. I need Hanamaki Takahiro to put a baby in me. Y’all are going to be so tired of me after this one. Fluff and slight NSFW. @dreamyjaems not totally daddy related, but pretty darn close ;)

Hanamaki;

The first time he notices it is when you’re both out with another pair of couple friends.

They’d been married for six years, while the two of you were entering three years together, and they’d just had their first baby less than a year ago.

Despite never mentioning a future desire for them, Makki watched the way you interacted with that little girl and he knew straight away.

Haha, I’m in danger.

The way your eyes soften when you hold her or the way you’ve created a new, soft persona that only spoke in high pitched gibberish

The way you were constantly buying the baby’s clothes for no reason. At all.

It becomes more apparent when the two of you are out shopping and you somehow end up in the kids clothing section.

Baby vans is where Makki draws the line. Do y’all know expensive baby vans are? I’d draw the line too.

“Sweetie...sweetheart...love of my life...” Makki has a grin on his face, his eyes aren’t open, and he’s holding your guys’ statement for your joint bank account. “Mind telling me why the fuck you spent $138 at the vans store when you didn’t buy any new vans?”

“How do you know that I didn’t?”

“Because you would have shown me them.” His grin drops into an entirely unamused look. “What did you do?”

Sighing in defeat, you walked over to a nearby shoe closet, pulling out three boxes of baby vans in varying colors and sizes. “They were just so cute 🥺”

Makki takes a seat beside you on the couch, hunching over his knees while covering his face with one hand. “I wish you’d just talk to me about this first before you went splurging on a kid we don’t even have yet.”

Yet?? Y E T??

“I was under the impression you didn’t want any.” And that wasn’t necessarily wrong, per se. The two of you were still young, trying to work through college debt, and weren’t as stable as you could be. But Makki was in this for the long haul, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t want you to be the mother of his future children.

“I mean I’m not opposed to the idea of trying.”

“...wanna start trying right now?”

“You son of a bitch, I’m in.”

Iwaizumi;

Iwaizumi was going to tear his hair out if he heard you coo at a baby one more time.

At first, it was fine. Yeah, the baby you spotted while the two of you were in line at Starbucks was cute. Even cuter when the baby waved to you, he wasn’t denying that.

But nearly every chance you got when the two of you were out in public, you’d smack him on the arm when you’d see a baby.

Legit, it was like you had a fucking radar on you.

“Haji, Haji, look! Look at how cute the wittle baby is!”

It was endearing, really, because he’d see the pout form on your lips as you tried to catch the infants attention. But again, that damned radar you had was driving him wild because it seemed to happen everywhere you went.

If there were toddler siblings or, heaven forbid, twins, you absolutely lost your shit. You fawning over one was bad enough but two? Or more? Good god.

Iwaizumi has banished all walks to the park. Walking your dog together? He made a new route away from the nearest children gathering place.

He couldn’t even bring you to McDonald’s anymore because you’d just stare at the fucking play place.

“D-do you really just not want kids, Hajime?” You’d asked him one time after seeing how red he turned with near anger? Maybe anger wasn’t the right word.

“That’s not it...”

???

He groans out of embarrassment cause he really doesn’t wanna admit this out loud. “Every time you talk about kids, I literally just wanna go home and fuck a baby into you.”

“Okay, so what the fuck are we waiting for?”

“College graduation???” Damn him and his logical rationalizations.

“We’re almost done with school—if we start now we’ll have already graduated before the baby’s even born.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Oikawa;

Oikawa actually entertains your baby fever—which is no help at all.

I see him totally being the dude that indulges watching 16&Pregnant, Teen Mom, etc. with you.

Half the time, you guys make bets over which couple’s going to break up, who loses custody of their child, so on and so forth.

But one thing remains consistent with the two of you—who the cutest babies are.

A constant topic of conversation between the two of you during these times is how idiotic some of the parents were. Have y’all ever seen Unexpected? Diego was the worst, and both of you had a unanimous opinion on that.

Unfortunately for you, these shows really start piquing your curiosity as to how yours and Oikawa’s little one would actually be.

And how the two of you would be as parents. It does upset you a little bit, considering he’s heavily focused on his pro career.

Oikawa notices the lack of desire to watch any of the aforementioned shows, despite that being a typical Friday night thing for the two of you. Friday night (baby) Fever.

“Alright, what’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing? I just feel like we should do something else.”

“Uh, no. I know you’re dying to see what the hell Max was doing while Chloe was giving birth.” 💀💀💀 he’s not wrong.

You gnaw on your lip while you make dinner—as per usual for your Friday nights. You always made something that required a bit more love while Tooru kept you up to date with his career.

“Do you think we would be better parents?”

“Duh,” he responds without skipping a beat. “both of us know how to make a bottle and change diapers.” He adds, referencing to the multitude of times you’d babysat friends’ kids or his newly born niece.

“Tooru, I’m serious.” A dry yet light laugh leaves his lips before he’s standing behind you, wrapping his arms just under your breasts and resting his chin on your head.

“I am too. I’ve just been waiting for you to give me permission.”

Oya? Wait, shit wrong person sorry

Needless to say, y’all don’t need to watch anymore pregnancy shows after this—too occupied with your own journey into parenthood.

Matsukawa;

Oh Mattsun, my clueless bunny.

He probably wouldn’t even notice, tbh, that you literally are in near tears when you see a cute baby.

Cause I imagine his s/o would be one that cries over all the cute things. Puppies? Cry. Kittens? Cry. Otter pups? Double cry.

But he seems to be missing the key theme here—b a b i e s, Issei.

He kinda dense.

You’ve always been good with kids without really trying, he learned, when you started watching your best friend’s five year old son once a week.

The little bean was your best friend, besides his mom and Issei of course. Every Thursday, you got up early so you could welcome the boy, make him breakfast, and hang out with him all day.

At first, it did funny things to Mattsun to see the way you’d glow while making slime or watching your favorite kid’s movies with him.

He learned quickly you could quote the entirety of Hercules and Mulan, and often acted out the singing parts with great theatrics.

When your best friend would come for her son, you’d get a little sad, enough for Mattsun to notice. He’s not that dense.

But dense enough not to notice the way you longingly stare at mothers holding the hands of their toddlers or carrying their babies while the two of you are out grocery shopping.

You’ve never wanted anything more than to have a kid with Issei. Even if he is kinda 💀💀

He’s so good to you, and it kinda hurts your heart the way he brushes off hanging out with you and the kiddo. Like he doesn’t want children period.

So, like any other healthy relationship, you actually decide to sit down and have a talk with him about this. Low key, it kinda scared him cause he thought you were about to dump him. “Do you see yourself having kids in the future?”

“Babe, I physically cannot.”

“I fucking hate you, Issei. I’m being serious.” Despite your words, you try not to laugh. You failed.

“What brought this on?”

“You just never seem to want to hang out with me and the rugrat when he’s over.”

“Not gonna lie, it’s just really hot watching you play mom.”

“You know, I don’t have to play mom.”

“Bedroom. Now.”

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gaylotusthatexists · 4 years

Text

undesirable

pairing: platonic dlampr ig? focused more on platonic logicality

summary: Logan realises that the others don’t give him physical affection as much as they do for everyone else, and conducts an experiment in order to make himself more ‘desirable’.

trigger warnings: sympathetic janus and remus, touch starvation, negative self talk, please let me know if i need to add anything else

word count: 3233

a/n: so this idea came to me due to this thread with @5-falsehoods-phonated so i wrote this entire thing in one go last night. logan bby i am sorry. i hope y’all enjoy~

ao3

Patton hugged him today, for... the first time in a while, Logan was pretty sure. He couldn't remember that last time he was physical with any of the other sides, preferring to keep his distance, not really feeling like he needed it. Studies had shown that physical affection was important in a human's development, and he knew how important physical affection was to Thomas himself, how people... enjoyed it? Logan wasn't human, though - he never really considered that he'd need it, that he'd want it.

Did he want it? It had felt nice, warm, comforting when Patton had hugged him earlier. Why had Patton hugged him again? Patton had been... excited, Logan was pretty sure. He thought that Logan's idea had been good, and in turn given him a hug to display that... happiness? And it hadn't been terrible, Logan supposed. Startling at first, of course, and he hadn't been quite sure on how to respond, wasn't sure what the proper hugging etiquette was. That was kind of concerning - did he really have so little hugs that he didn't even know how to react when someone gave him one? Surely he should know what to do with that. Surely he should have known how much physical touch burned, in a... good way.

He wanted to hug Patton again, but wasn't quite sure how to initiate it. Just asking for a hug would seem uncharacteristic of Logan - Patton would assume something was wrong, which wasn't true, of course, but Logan wouldn't know what to tell him. He'd hugged him after he explained his idea, so maybe just having good ideas was the way to go? But Logan put his ideas forward all the time, and they had never received that kind of response. In fact, it wasn't even his best idea, so...

Logan scooted over to his computer and opened a word document, beginning to type down his ideas for a new experiment. An attempt to figure out how physical affection worked, why it felt so good, and how he was to get it. He felt... stupid, as he typed up his hypothesis, his brain telling him he was pathetic for even wanting that, but his arms were cold and he was desperate to feel that heat again, he needed this.

~*~

Day one. Logan had stayed up late the night before, researching why people formed relationships, what it was about people that made other people want to touch them. He hadn't found any solid advice, nothing real - all just stuff about feelings, things that he didn't, couldn't understand. So instead, he decided to take the day to observe the others in action, figure out what made them initiate hugs or the like. Perhaps if he could document the behaviours and attempt to imitate them, people would find him more 'desirable' to engage with.

He hadn't realised before just how much the others touched each other. It seemed like everywhere he looked, someone was touching another. Roman and Virgil curled up on the sofa watching movies, Patton and Janus making cookies in the kitchen with their shoulders touching. Why was it that whenever Logan did those activities, everyone kept their distance? He occasionally would watch documentaries with Virgil, those David Attenborough ones that Virgil said helped to 'calm' him, but Virgil had never tried to cuddle Logan on those nights. And then when Logan cooked dinner with Patton or Janus, they always stayed on their own side of the kitchen, nowhere near close enough to just casually touch.

That got him thinking - was there something wrong with Logan himself? Was it something about him that just... made the others not want to go near him?

Perhaps Logan needed to change a lot more than just his behaviour, if that was the case.

From his spot on the couch, he looked over at Remus and Janus standing by the stairs, Remus telling some sort of joke. Janus started laughing, and placed a hand on Remus' shoulder. They got closer and closer until they were hugging, and Logan felt... something, deep in his chest. Anger? Sadness?

Jealousy?

No, no, Logan had never been jealous before, had he?

He looked away, glancing into the kitchen. Virgil sat on the side with his legs swinging back and forth, and Patton stood between them, his arms wrapped around Virgil's waist. They looked happy, which just made Logan feel awful. Then he looked at Roman on the sofa with him, shuffled all the way to the other side, eyes fixed on the tv screen, not even thinking about Logan. Which just filled Logan with... rage.

Logan stood up and stormed upstairs, pushing past Remus and Janus and, in doing so, brushing against Remus' hand. He loved it. He wanted to reached down and grip Remus' hand tight, twist their fingers together, but... he couldn't. He ignored the concerned stares from the others as he went into his room, slamming his door shut.

~*~

Logan tried to research more, but all the stuff he could find was on abstract emotions, things that didn't quite make sense and Logan couldn't just do. So, he decided to try a different strategy. From the parts of the research he did understand, he had gathered that people tended to be physical with those they found attractive, so perhaps if Logan made himself appear more attractive, the other sides would be more inclined to perform physical acts with him.

What was it about a person that made them attractive?

Logan tried to think about who he found attractive, but that proved to be difficult. He then tried to think about who Thomas found attractive, but that wasn't much help, as Thomas himself didn't look much like any of his celebrity crushes. Logan supposed he could always shape-shift, but that seemed... wrong, manipulative, like he was tricking the others. No, no, he needed a different approach.

Maybe he needed to be more like what the others found attractive?

Humming, Logan grabbed his recorder and left his room, heading down into the commons. An interview would be a good idea, valuable to his research. Who to interview, though...

Patton was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. None of the others were in sight. Okay, Patton it was.

~*~

Interview One. Date: July Seventeenth. Subject: Patton Sanders.

Uh, do you have to-

The recording is important evidence for my research, Patton.

...okay. What exactly are you researching?

I can't tell you that, or the data may come out false. This needs to be unbiased.

Alright then. Be quick, though. I need to keep an eye on the cooking.

Of course. Question one: on a physical level, what do you find attractive in another person?

...

Answer the question, please, Patton.

Uh, I don't know. Everyone is beautiful in their own way.

Yes, but is there anything specific?

I don't know. I like people who can make me laugh?

...that isn't a physical quality.

Well, the 'physical qualities' don't really matter that much. I mean, I guess there are some people I find prettier than others, but really it's the personality that matters more.

Hmm. Interesting.

Why are you asking this?

I told you before, it's for science.

Do you... need to talk?

No, Patton, I'm-

You look rather pale, are you okay?

I- I think I'll end the interview here.

~*~

That had been a complete waste of time, Logan realised. Personality? How was Logan supposed to change his personality? He could easily make himself more physically attractive, it was fairly simple to alter one's body or change their hair style, or, in Logan's case, shape-shift into the perfect man, but... changing his personality in general was a lot more difficult.

And... it got him thinking, sent his mind to places he'd rather not go. Was he really that undesirable? Just because of the way he was as a person? Did Patton rarely give him affection because he just hated him so much?

Something wet dripped down Logan's cheek. Frowning, he looked up, but saw no signs of a leak or any water above. And he wasn't sweating or anything, so...

Was that a tear? That didn't sound right. Logan had never cried before. And he wasn't sad, was he?

Perhaps he just needed a different test subject. Chances were, Patton was just an anomaly. He must be able to get more concise, useful data somewhere else, right?

~*~

Interview Two. Date: July Eighteenth. Subject: Roman Sanders.

Can we make this quick? Thomas really needs my help with this new video idea-

Of course, I only have a few questions. Firstly: what do you find most important, appearance or personality?

Uhh... that kinda depends? Are we talking about what I look for in a romantic partner?

...sure, if you want to think of it that way.

Well, appearance obviously plays a big part, although if I don't like someone as a person I'm not going to get in a relationship with them, you know?

So, what you're saying is they're... equally important?

Yeah, I guess.

Huh. Alright, second question: what do you find physically attractive in a guy?

Oh! Oh, there's... actually a lot, there. The eyes are what I first look at, usually. And the hair. Oh, and muscles! Big strong lads are great. But not, like, aggressively muscular. Like, a soft side is nice too. Fashion is a big thing as well, I guess. Like, guys in crop tops? Amazing. Tanks tops as well - it's the arms, I think.

Interesting. So... a fit person?

Sure. I mean, it's not super important, but like if someone clearly frequents the gym, they've caught my eye, y'know?

Alright. Thank you. Uh, final question: what do you find attractive in someone's personality, if anything?

...hmm. Well, someone who shares the same interests, I suppose. Y'know, someone I can talk to. Good humour. Confidence.

Confidence?

Yeah. Like, I like it when a person knows what they're doing, when it seems as though they aren't afraid of anything.

Oh.

Is there any reasons for these question?

No, no reason in particular. Just... for science.

~*~

It had been several weeks since his conversation with Roman, during which Logan had been working out every day, using Roman's old gym in the Imagination, mostly running on the treadmill and lifting weights - weights more often, as Roman had stressed the important of arms. He'd also talked to a couple of the others, who had essentially given the same opinions as Roman - in particular, Virgil had gone on about how a sense of style helped, and Remus had explained more about the muscle situation.

Nothing much had seemed to change, though. Logan had attempted to change how he presented himself, even taking off his tie some days in an attempt to make himself look less serious. He had considered investing in some crop tops, but couldn't imagine himself wearing anything not tucked in, so that idea was quickly abandoned. Then he thought about stealing some of Remus' tank tops - and even had, briefly, only to discover that he just looked uncomfortable, plus he had begun to smell like Remus which was certainly less than desirable. He'd even tried walking around shirtless one morning, but that had only earned him a couple of weird stares, confusion, concern.

He'd experimented more and more with his appearance, changing his hair style every few days, wearing different coloured contacts in his eyes, even wearing makeup a few times to see if that did anything. But still nothing. The other sides still kept far, far away from him, just like they always did. He didn't understand what he was doing wrong.

It did occur to him a few times that he could just ask the others to give him a hug. Patton would probably comply, even if it was just out of pity. But then that wouldn't prove anything, wouldn't change anything. And there was always the chance that they'd say no, and... Logan wasn't sure if he could handle that. He already suspected that the others thought he was undesirable, but hearing it would be different. Strange, he'd never been afraid of rejection before.

~*~

Date: August Fifth. Subject: Patton Sanders. Objective: physical affection.

I am aware that this is a bad idea, but it is pivotal to my research that I at least attempt. Worst case scenario, Patton explains that he's too busy, and we never have to speak of this again. Best case scenario, I finally get that 'hug' that I've been... craving? I believe that's the word, although I will make a note here to look it up later. I am now approaching the kitchen, where Patton is preparing dinner alone. My recorder will be placed in my pocket, as holding it may make the experiment more troublesome, I hope the audio will not be too muffled.

Oh, hey Logan!

Good evening, Patton. I'm...

Are you alright?

Yes, of course. I'm just- doing that experiment still, and need more data.

Oh, of course! Do you have more questions? I just put our food in the oven, so I have time to talk if you want to.

Um, it's- I don't really need to ask any more 'questions', per se, just...

...what is it, Logan? You look nervous, do you-

I'm fine. I- [deep breath] Would you be willing to engage in... physical contact, with me? A, uh... y'know-

...are you asking me to hug you?

Yes. If- If that's okay with you. If not, that's fine, but it would helpful for my research. Although I- I can leave, if you want me to, of course. It's- I have enough verbal data to complete the experiment regardless.

...

Logan, can I... Can I ask you something, instead?

Uhm, yeah, sure.

What exactly is your experiment about?

...

Logan?

I have to go.

~*~

Logan laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and hugging himself, clutching on tightly to his shoulders. He couldn't stop himself from crying, and he didn't know why, didn't understand what was going on with him. It wasn't as though Patton had rejected him. Just... maybe he was beginning to realise just how stupid this whole experiment was. It wasn't as if he could force the others to like him. He should've just asked in the first place, then... then maybe it wouldn't have gone this far.

He didn't understand what he was doing wrong. He'd tried everything he could think of, but nothing worked. He'd tried every combination of different appearances, tried to act differently around different people - more confident in front of Roman, more sensitive in front of Virgil, more friendly in front of Patton. Still, nothing. Nothing had changed, and nothing was going to change. This had all been a waste.

Logan took out his recorder and listened back to his logs, to the interviews, to his two am rambles, trying to figure out if there was anything that he was missing, any detail he'd forgotten about. Then he moved to his laptop and scrolled through his document, checked through all of his data, all of his calculations, but still couldn't find a single thing wrong. Perhaps he just needed to admit the fact that he was undesirable, unloveable. There was nothing that could change that, nothing that could make him better.

This was fine. It wasn't as if he needed it - he'd gone on this long without it before, he could cope with never having it at all. Couldn't really miss what he'd never had.

~*~

Date: August Seventh. Subject: ...I'm not sure yet. Logan Sanders, possibly? Or everyone. We'll see how this goes. Objective: ...I don't know.

I haven't left my room since the encounter with Patton in my last recording, although have been communicating with the others via text. They have asked me to join them in the commons for a talk. What this is about, I have no idea, but I will record it just in case, for future reference.

...

Logan!

Good evening, Patton. (I am now sitting down on the couch. All five other sides are here, and they look... concerned?)

What are you doing with that?

I'm just recording this conversation for future reference. You know, the experiment and all.

Yeah, about that. I- We'd like to talk to you about that.

You... would? (Patton seems to be taking charge of the conversation, but the others are all staring at me, intensely.)

I- I did ask the other day and you didn't respond but... what is the experiment about? We're... all a little worried, in all honesty.

(Interesting.) Why are you worried?

... You've been acting weirdly recently, Logan. You have to admit that.

(He's not wrong. That was a fear when I first started the experiment. Perhaps I should start again.)

Logan, can you stop talking to your recorder and just... listen to us? Tell us what's wrong?

There isn't anything wrong. I told you, this is all purely for science.

What's the experiment about?

I... (I'll have to start the experiment over again anyway, as it so clearly failed. New test subjects with therefore be required. Due to this, there is nothing wrong with telling everybody now.) I realised that... out of all six of us, you guys seem to come to me the least for acts of physical affections, if you come to me at all, so I wanted to understand why, and attempt to change myself to better fit to your standards required for wanting to participate in physical relationships with others. I... was attempting to make myself more 'compatible', I guess. More desirable.

...

...Patton?

...

Patton, are you crying? Did I say something wrong?

...Logan, can you turn off the recording?

~*~

Logan sat in the middle of the couch, with the other five surrounding him, engulfing him in a 'cuddle pile', as Patton had called it. It was nice, he decided. Warm. He wasn't quite sure what he was meant to do, but was grateful for the warmth of skin to skin contact, for the safety he felt as the others wrapped their arms around him. Why had he never done this before? Was it that he never wanted to, or... was it that he never asked?

Patton had tried to explain that they all tried to keep their distance from Logan because they thought that was what he wanted, that he'd be uncomfortable with hugs all the time. Logan had tried to explain back that, yes, in the past he hadn't quite understood the appeal of physical affection, but had since began to 'crave' it, to want it more than anything. Patton had asked why he hadn't just asked the others to hug him, and Logan had answered that he didn't know how to ask, or didn't want to sound desperate. Then Patton had reassured him that there was nothing wrong was wanting to be touched, and that he didn't need to be afraid to ask for it if he needed that. He'd told Logan that there was nothing Logan needed to change about himself - they all liked him just the way he was.

The experiment had been... successful, in a roundabout way. He'd achieved physical affection, at least? Although all that research had been for nothing. It wasn't as though he hadn't learned anything, though. He learned that... it was okay to ask, it didn't make him weak or pathetic or desperate. He wasn't undesirable. And the others weren't going to let go.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #platonic dlampr #touch starvation #my writing #my fanfic

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chaotic-wanda · 4 years

Text

Don’t Let Me Know

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Prompt: “Can I hug you?” “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Please?”

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: angsty angst, little bit of fluff, maybe on curse?

A/N: This is for @aesthetical-bucky 1K Writing Challenge! It’s also based off the song “Don’t Let Me Know” from SMASH which I’ve been rewatching a lot in quarantine. It’s not my best work but hey, practice is what makes you better 🤷🏻‍♀️A million thanks to @film-enthusiastt for reading over it for me, you’re the best! Constructive criticism is welcomed. Hope y’all enjoy!

Soft music played in the dimly lit bar as Y/N sipped on her whiskey. The burn of it sliding down her throat started to make her feel numb. She doesn’t know why she agreed to this, why she keeps agreeing to this. After all, Bucky was the one to break things off, claiming the spark had just died between them. So why did she meet him every time he came calling when something was wrong? Even now as she was waiting for him, he was a half hour late. Finishing her third drink of the night, she motioned for another to the bartender before checking her messages. Nothing. Y/N knows she can’t keep doing this, but holding onto him is all that she can do until she finally learns the hands around her throat, the reason for all this torture, are her own.

Another hour passed and still with no sign of Bucky. She lets out a heavy sigh, admitting defeat before she asks for her check. The weight of her own self hatred drowning her along with the copious amount of drinks the night brought. Hatred for being so pathetic over someone who treated her so poorly. Quickly wiping at her eyes before anyone could notice, she grabbed her things to leave. She mumbled a quiet thanks before striding towards the door.

Y/N shrugged on her jacket before she stepped out in the chilly air. As she started walking home, she pulled out her phone to call her best friend. She seemed to always know what to say in these situations. After tapping on Wanda’s name, she lifted the phone to her ear as it rang. Once. Twice. Three times.

It wasn’t until the fourth ring that she answered, “He stood you up again didn’t he?” It amazed Y/N how Wanda always seemed to know what was happening. She gnawed on her lower lip as she tried to think of a response without showing her true emotions about the night. Sighing into the phone, Wanda spoke again, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Y/N. I might not be able to see you right now but your silence speaks louder than anything else.”

Y/N laughed bitterly before responding, “Sadly my brain knows that, I just need to get my heart on board as well.” She kicked a rock along the sidewalk as she slowly made her way home. “I don’t know why I constantly continue to do this. It just hurts, but I don’t know how to let go, yanno?” She paused from walking for a moment to take a deep breath, “I wish he had done something unforgivable that way it would be easier to cut him off. But he was so nice about it and I guess I keep hoping the spark will reignite. Instead he just keeps hurting me and I keep letting him.”

Wanda’s heart broke for her friend but she didn’t know how else she could help. With encouraging words, she kept telling Y/N it would get better but it would just take time. Y/N agreed with a sigh before calling it a night and telling her friend goodbye.

Hours later after making it home and washing the dried tear stains off her cheeks, she had finally made it to the point of exhaustion. She slowly pushed herself off the couch and was getting ready to throw away the bottle of wine she consumed when there was a rush of knocks at her door. She stared at her door for a few moments as if unsure if someone was actually at her door or if it was her imagination. Another burst of knocks at her door brought her back to her senses as she made her way over.

She opened the door, wine bottle still in hand, to see Bucky leaning against her door frame. “Doll, I’m sorry but I can explain.” Y/N rolled her eyes and if she could without making a huge mess, she would have thrown the wine bottle at him. Instead she just opened the door wider and gestured for him to come in. He pushed himself off the door frame and hesitated before striding through the door.

She closed the door behind him before harshly speaking, “You better make it quick because I’m done wasting my time on you Barnes.” He flinched at the sound of his last name, knowing that she only used it when she was livid.

He sat on the chair next to her couch and gestured for her to take a seat. She begrudgingly did as she was asked but sat on the opposite end so he couldn’t reach out to touch her. The unspoken tension between them was suffocating, neither one wanting to break the silence.

Bucky finally gave in after a few minutes, gulping down a breath before stuttering out, “It was real shitty of me to leave you hanging at the bar. I ran into this girl from SHIELD and we got to talking and I just lost a track of time. I’m really sorry, I honestly didn’t mean to leave you waiting.”

Y/N laughed bitterly while crossing her arms over her chest, something she always did when upset as if it would protect her from falling apart in the moment. Bucky knew the nervous tick very well. He’d seen a lot of it towards the end of their relationship.

“You can release the death grip. I promise you’ll stay in one piece,” he jokingly spoke, trying to lighten the mood. Instead, she seemed to go stiff and crossed her arms tighter.

He’d hit a nerve and before he could apologize she replied softly, “I wish you didn’t know me so damn well.” Her eyes seemed to look at everywhere but him.

Everything in him was screaming to reach out for her but he couldn’t seem to move his body. All he could do was look at her and wish that she could read his mind. “Y/N, I really am sorry. Please don’t let this one mistake ruin our friendship.”

She jerked her head in his direction at that comment, staring at him with a coldness he’d never felt from her before. “We’re not friends Bucky, we’re exes who can’t seem to let go of each other,” she hissed between her teeth. She felt her blood boiling, feeling the frustration of the night build up. “You didn’t want to be with me anymore and I was too stupid to walk away. But I don’t want to be your friend that you turn to anymore. I can’t do it anymore,” the hot tears were slowly streaming down her face now as she let all the pent up anger off her chest.

Bucky frowned and moved to sit next to her on the couch, his only goal to comfort her. However, she jumped up before he could and pulled away. “You always keep me at arms length, you won’t pull me close, which is fine now that we’re not together, but you can’t let go either.”

He could feel his insides twisting, afraid of what would come out of her mouth next. “What are you saying, Y/N?” he stammered out.

She looked at him with a heavy sadness, knowing what she had to do. “I’m saying that I’m done Bucky. I’m letting you go so that we can both move on.”

He quickly jumped out of his seat and rushed towards her. He grabbed her hands while desperately trying to change her mind, “You can’t do that. We work in the same building and we have the same friends. You can’t just not talk to me. And despite all that, you’re one of my best friends. Who am I supposed to go to when I’m having trouble?”

Looking down she shook her head as the tears kept coming, “I’m sorry, but I can’t be that for you anymore. I have to do what’s best for me at this point. I wish I never met you, cause now I gotta forget what life is like without you again” She slowly pulled her hands out of his and took a step back. “I think you should go. . . please.”

Bucky could feel his own tears fighting to make their way to the surface. “Can I at least hug you, one last time?” he choked out.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she responded before gnawing on her lip. She knew she’d fall apart if she was in his arms.

“Please?” he asked with desperation in his voice as he tried to keep the sobs at bay.

Y/N seemed to really look at him for the first time since he had arrived that night, having an internal fight over the situation. She let out a huff before lightly nodding. Bucky took a step closer and enveloped her into his arms, clinging onto her as if she was his lifeline. They both knew this was goodbye.

It had been a month or so since she had decided to cut Bucky out from her life. She wouldn’t lie and say it had been easy. In fact, it was really hard. She found herself constantly wanting to send him a text when she saw a funny meme or to call him whenever she had a bad day. But, she did feel more free, as if she wasn’t holding onto him desperately. She knew it would take time but it was time she was willing to take the time she needed.

Y/N had really thrown herself into work and into her platonic relationships. She knew she’d been a crappy friend to Wanda and Natasha in the past months but was working on making it up to them. The start was having weekly girls night on Thursdays. It was her turn to host and she rushed around to finish getting ready when she heard a knock at the door.

Confused, she made her way over. It was at least a few hours before the girls were supposed to show up. She was floored by who was on the other side. The time hadn’t been kind to Bucky. His hair was disheveled, the bags under his eyes reached a new level of dark, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. She hadn’t seen him in this state since she first met him.

“Buck, what are you doing here?” she whispered out. Part of her wanted to pull him in and hold him tight but the other part of her was terrified that everything she had worked on would crumble if she did.

He let out the best smile he could muster that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to see me but I had to see you. I felt like I was going crazy.” He hesitated before looking back up at her, “Can I come in?”

She lightly nodded and stood to the side while he made his way inside. The deja vu of it all hit them both in full force. “I was just about to make some tea. Would you like some?” He nodded hoping the time it would take for her to make it would help calm his nerves and figure out exactly what to say. She came back a few minutes later and motioned for him to sit on the couch before handing him his mug. He smiled softly noticing it was his favorite mug of hers that he used whenever he came over. He rubbed his thumb over the chipped paint getting lost in the memories. Y/N slowly sat by him with her own mug in hand, tucking her feet under herself. “Are you ok Bucky? You don’t look so good,” she asked, the worry evident in her voice.

He turned his head towards her before laying it back on the couch. He watched her for a few moments before finally answering, “I just miss you so much and I know I don’t have the right to, but I feel like a piece of me is missing. I just feel scared now that you’re not here.” He looked down, playing with the tea bag as he dunked it further into the water.

She felt her chest tighten at his words. If he’d said this to her a month or so ago, she would have dropped everything for him. She so desperately wanted to be there for him but she knew she wasn’t at the place where she could support him and take care of herself yet. In a moment of weakness, she took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry you feel this way and I wish I could make it better, I truly do.” He flinched knowing there was a but coming. She took a deep breath and exhaled before continuing, “But I can’t open up my heart to you again. It’s still trying to heal from the first time you shattered it. And that’s my fault because I let you keep doing it which shattered it more.”

He squeezed her hand in an attempt to keep her close. Bucky still couldn’t bring himself to look at her as he mumbled out the next words, “I fucked up and I should have never let you go. I realize that now and I want to give us another shot if you do.” He slowly dragged his hope filled eyes to meet hers as if trying to read her thoughts.

She gnawed on her lips and closed her eyes, trying to fight the tears back. Her actions spoke volumes to Bucky and he slowly let go of her hand. Moving to get up, the words rushed out of his mouth, “I shouldn’t have come here and dump this on you.”

Before he could run out, she jumped up, catching his arm, “Bucky, wait!” He turned to look at her, the pain clear on his face. “I want to be able to give you what you want, but it’s so hard. I’m not sure how to trust you with my heart now. If I had known there was a chance you could fall again, I would have told you to not let me know.”

He slowly moved his hand to cup her face and slowly pulled her closer, explaining “I’ve tried and I’ve failed to stop loving you for months now.” He drew her into his embrace and she slowly wrapped her arms around him. Neither of them are sure how long they were in that position, but both knew they didn’t want to let go.

Her phone started to ring and Y/N grumbled as she begrudgingly separated herself from him. She sighed as she read the messages letting her know the girls were on the way, wanting to stay in this moment. Still, she knew if her and Bucky were ever going to stand a chance in the future, changes would need to be made and she didn’t want to backtrack on all the work she had done.

Looking up at him, she gave Bucky a soft smile, “I really want nothing more than to stay in this bubble with you.” His smile grew at that before she kept going. “But it’s girls night and I’m hosting so we will have to resume this later. I won’t cancel on Natasha and Wanda.”

He nodded in understanding, “Maybe we could go for coffee or I could take you out for lunch tomorrow?”

Her smile grew into a grin that stretched across her face, “Only if it’s that bistro I love. I haven’t been in so long. It reminded me too much of you.” He let out a laugh before agreeing. Y/N bit her lip and looked down as she played with her fingers, the nerves setting in. “If we do this, there has to be a lot of changes. I refuse to lose myself again.”

He hooked his finger under her chin, bringing her gaze to meet his, “I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy, I swear.” He placed a quick kiss on her forehead and she looked at him with such delight. Even though there was still a lot of work to be done, they both had a feeling of hope for the first time in a long time. And sometimes hope is all you can ask for.

#aesthetical-bucky1kchallenege #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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violetwolfraven · 4 years

Text

Already Home

((Angsty one-shot time. Good luck, y’all. This is to Already Home by A Great Big World.))

...

You say

Jack was a goddamn idiot.

For getting on that stupid train, for crossing the country for someone who didn’t know he existed, for wanting Santa Fe so badly in the first place when he’d never seen so much as a picture of it outside his mother’s stories.

Love is what you put into it

His hands had been numb opening that letter, addressed to Anita Kelly-Sullivan. The boy who delivered had been paid enough that he’d looked everywhere, asking all around until he found out that Anita was dead, but her best friend owned a theatre on the Upper East Side. Her best friend told him that Anita was dead, but she’d had a son. Anita was dead, but her son worked as a Newsie and lived at the Duane Street Lodging House.

You say

Anita Kelly-Sullivan. A woman who’d moved to New York to become a dancer, but hurt her leg before she ever made it big. Who’d dreamed of owning a theatre with her best friend, but never recovered in time to get it.

Jack had never told anyone about her. The others probably assumed he didn’t remember his parents, the way Race, Smalls, and Crutchie only had a few vague memories of theirs.

Until the day when Davey walked in on him with that letter, completely in shock.

He’d wordlessly handed the letter to his lover, with only a brief explanation.

“My grandfather is dyin’. He spent his last dollar to send this letter for my mama.”

That I’m losing my will

“I have to go, Davey.”

Davey had thought it was a bad idea. The letter had taken a few days to even get to New York, and it had taken that boy weeks to find Jack when it did.

Jack’s grandfather didn’t know he existed. Anita Kelly had sent one last letter home when she got married, and never been able to afford to write to her father again after that.

Jack had always assumed, from the way his mama talked, that he was already dead.

That man was the one from the stories. The vaquero, the cowboy, Jack had always wanted to be.

Maybe it wasn’t smart to cross the country to say goodbye to someone who didn’t know he existed, but Jack still felt like he had to.

Don’t you know that you’re all that I think about

Davey’s face had said that he didn’t approve, but he said goodbye at the train station with the others as if they were friends. In the Lodging House beforehand, he said goodbye with a kiss.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Jack wasn’t looking for a family or home anymore. Just closure. His mother had never gotten to say goodbye to her father, so he would for her. Then he’d come right home.

You make up a half of the whole

It had still hurt to watch Davey’s face get smaller and smaller from that train.

You say

The train ride wasn’t how Jack had always imagined it, but he guessed he should have expected that.

All he kept thinking about was how though he didn’t say it, Davey’s face had told what he was really thinking.

About how Jack was leaving him.

That it’s hard to commit to it

Jack knew that the others had a hard time believing him that he was really over that fantasy of Santa Fe. He saw the look on Race’s face when he looked at a western through a store window, the uncertainty whenever Crutchie called him ‘Cowboy.’ They were still scared that Jack would just pack up and leave them. Not that he could blame them.

You say

He saw now that they were his family. They were his home. He would never leave them without plans to come back.

He would never leave Davey.

Still, Davey’s words in their private goodbye stuck with him, replaying all through the train ride.

“I know you have to go. I know how hard it is for you to want to stay in one place, and... I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Jack wished he could tell him how homesick he was from the second the train pulled out of the station.

That it’s hard standing still

Santa Fe was hotter than he was expecting.

Jack probably should have seen that coming. His mama had always said that he couldn’t imagine how hot New Mexico summers were, and September was the tail end of it.

He’d asked for directions, gone to the address on the letter, and found a middle-aged woman who looked too much like his mother sweeping the porch.

She’d asked him in English what he was doing there.

It took Jack a few seconds to answer, and when he did, it was in shaky, slightly-panicked Spanish.

“You sent a letter to New York for Anita Kelly-Sullivan. Only... only she’s... I... my name is Jack. Jack Kelly. She never got to tell you about me.”

The woman had gaped at him, clearly connecting the dots, doing the math on how old he was, scanning his face, then shakily responded.

“I... you’re Anita’s boy?”

Jack nodded, “She died when I was 5. I’m sorry.”

The woman had closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, then given him a sad smile, “I guess I’m your Aunt Sophia. I’m so sorry. You’re too late.”

It turned out that Jack’s grandfather was already dead, and while Sophia would have been happy to have him stay, she was understanding when he said he had a family to go back to. If anything, she seemed happy that Jack wasn’t alone, that he’d had someone after his mom died.

Don’t you know that I spend all my nights

So, Jack gave his Aunt Sophia Medda’s address so she could write if she wanted, filled her in on his mother’s accident, how their family had fallen into poverty after they had him, and how she’d gotten sick after her husband went to prison. He was sorry he didn’t have more to give her, but just knowing for sure what had happened to her sister seemed to be enough.

Knowing that he had an aunt out west... well, it was more than enough for Jack.

Counting backwards the days till I’m home

It wasn’t until he got to the train station that he realized he didn’t have enough to get back to New York.

If only New York wasn’t so far away

Jack was stuck in Santa Fe. He should have listened to Davey.

I promise this city won’t get in our way

The man working at the station said Jack could get maybe halfway, but unless he wanted to be stranded somewhere in Missouri, he shouldn’t get on a train.

When you’re scared and alone

God, Davey and the others were going to think he just left them.

So, instead of letting them believe that, Jack did what he did have enough money for; he sent a letter. His handwriting was terrible, made worse by anger and fear, but he sent it, hoping they would understand.

Just know that I’m already home

Sophia was surprised when he showed back up on her doorstep, but willing to let him stay with her until he had enough money to go.

Jack just had to hope he could find a job in the morning.

...

I say

Davey was trying not to be worried. After all, maybe Jack had just lost track of time catching up with his family and missed the train. There would be another tonight. No need to jump to conclusions when half the Lodging House was already panicking.

Jack hadn’t been on the train they expected him back on.

That we’re right in the heart of it

“Davey!”

Davey shook himself out of his thoughts as the door downstairs banged. Race, Romeo, and Crutchie were running up to him, what looked like a letter in their hands.

“It’s from Jack,” Crutchie said grimly.

“It’s bad,” Romeo added.

A love only we understand

Scenarios raced through Davey’s head about how Jack found his blood family and no longer wanted his chosen one, he was staying in Santa Fe, he was abandoning them but he pushed those aside to read the letter.

Jack was not abandoning them for Santa Fe. He was stuck, and didn’t have enough money to get back.

I’ll come home as soon as I can. Until I have enough money, I’m staying with my aunt. Don’t worry about me, any of you. Especially you, Davey. Tell Race not to try to teach anyone to swim this year. Dave, you don’t wanna know what happened last time. I miss you all, but with luck, I’ll be home soon. Love, Jack

That was what the last paragraph of the letter said, and Davey knew it was as close as he could get to safely telling him he loved him, but that wasn’t the part he was worried about.

I will bend every light in this city

Jack wrote messy normally, but he only wrote this messy when he was upset—scared or angry.

He was worried he wouldn’t be able to get home, and Davey wasn’t about to let that happen.

And make sure they’re shining on you

“How many of the others would be willing to work extra to send Jack money to get home?”

“I will,” Race said firmly.

“I think everyone will,” Crutchie admitted, fidgeting with the grip of his crutch.

If only New York wasn’t so far away

Davey folded up the letter, putting it in his pocket.

I promise this city won’t get in our way

“We’re gonna bring him home,” he told the others firmly, “If we all work together, we can do it.”

And when you’re scared and alone, just know that I’m already home

...

“So, Racetrack and Albert are the ones who cause trouble?” Sophia asked with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Jack confirmed, “And sometimes Crutchie and Romeo, too. And they’re a handful, but at least I can tell when something’s bothering one of them. It’s the quiet ones I need to keep an eye on.”

“You have a lot of friends,” she noted.

“I do.”

Jack had been stuck in Santa Fe for a month now, saving what he could, but he also had to help Sophia pay for food, now that he was living with her.

His aunt smiled at him, “You’re so much like Anita, you know. She had a lot of friends, too. Such a big heart. I can see you got that from her.”

Jack snorted, “Well, I didn’t get it from my father.”

When life takes its own course

He still didn’t like to think about that man. Jack’s mama had deserved the best husband in the world, and instead, she’d gotten Francis Sullivan, a man who’d let a cruel world turn him cruel, too, instead of wanting to make it better.

Jack had sworn never to be like him. That was why he’d taken his mother’s maiden name, using the middle name she’d always called him by as his first. He’d decided to carry her legacy instead of his father’s.

He’d told Davey that just before leaving. He wondered what Davey was doing now, if he was back in school yet or if he’d even kept with the newsies without Jack there.

He really hoped so. Davey needed not to be alone and the others needed someone to take care of them until he got home.

“You want to know something else about your mama?”

Jack nodded eagerly. In the last month, he’d already learned more about his mother than he’d remembered on his own.

“She could never hide her feelings from me,” Sophia said simply, “When she was happy, or sad, or angry... or when she was in love.”

Jack froze.

He really liked Sophia. And he knew that the west was somewhat safer than New York for people like him, if only a little, but he wasn’t sure if his aunt was one of the people who didn’t care who other people loved. After all, she did go to church every Sunday and all that.

“You told me about your friend, Katherine,” she said, “The reporter. Is it her?”

Judging by her tone, she didn’t really think it was Katherine. Crap.

“Uh, no,” Jack responded, “I did court Kath for a while, but we broke up.”

“That girl, Sarah, then? Or was it Smalls? I can’t keep all of your friends’ nicknames straight.”

Jack was now regretting telling her about each and every one of his friends.

Because though he hadn’t told her about his relationship, he had told her about Davey.

Sophia smiled, “It’s not a girl at all, is it?”

Judging her reaction as safe as Esther and Mayer’s had been, Jack slowly shook his head.

Sometimes we just don’t get to choose

“Did you know that your grandfather had a male partner when he was young?”

“What?!”

Sophia laughed, “Many cowboys did. Not many women out west in those days, and some of them would have preferred men, even if there were. Unfortunately, Papa’s partner died young, but if he hadn’t, Papa might not have ever fallen in love with your grandmother.”

Jack was still wrapping his head around that information when his aunt spoke again.

“You must miss him.”

I’d rather be there next to you

He managed to nod, “I do. A lot.”

“Well, I hope I get to meet this man of yours someday. Which one is he?”

“Davey.”

Promise you’ll wait for me

...

Wait for me

“Damn it,” Davey swore.

Everyone had been slinging nearly twice as many papes as they usually did, Race was being more careful with betting, and even Kath had chipped in as much as she could spare since her father kicked her out. They were saving every little bit they could to send to Jack, but they barely had enough to send a letter, let alone any money in it.

It was nearly November. Which meant Davey had to choose between sending what they had to Jack or putting it toward keeping everyone alive through the winter.

Jack would know what choice to make, but he wasn’t here.

Wait till I’m home

As of now, they could pay for a letter to Santa Fe, but they’d only be able to put a couple dollars in it. Nowhere near enough for a train ticket.

“I could move out of my apartment,” Kath offered, “Staying in the Lodging House would be cheaper. I could—“

“No, Kath,” Davey mumbled, “Kloppman’s reluctant to let Smalls and Sniper stay, and they’ve been here since they were Littles. You’re a full grown woman.”

“To get Jack home, I bet I could convince him to—“

“We don’t have a bunk to spare, anyway.”

Kath shut up, still looking like she was thinking hard.

She’d already done so much for them, putting every cent she earned that didn’t need to be spent on rent or food toward bringing Jack home. She’d been taking every story available lately, from big articles like she usually took to the kind of flower show reviews she hated. And all of this was especially notable on the count that as a woman, Kath didn’t make as much as most reporters, anyway.

“Kath, you’ve done more than enough,” Davey muttered, “Winter’s coming up, and now that you’re out of your dad’s house, it’s going to be hard on you, too.”

Kath shrugged, “My reporter salary is more than most of you newsies make combined.”

“That don’t mean you can afford to be careless with it,” Davey insisted, “Kath, you’re gonna have to save up to buy yourself some real winter clothes. Less newspapers sold in colder months means less income for you, too.”

The look on her face said that she’d already thought of that, and had been planning on helping, anyway.

“I miss him,” she said finally, “And I’m worried. We haven’t heard from him in two months.”

“Believe me, I know.”

Kath sighed, “So... what are we gonna do? Save for winter, or keep saving for Jack?”

Davey really hated this choice, but he knew what he had to choose.

All I had was this feeling inside of me

“Romeo can barely fit into his shoes,” he mumbled, “Finch needs a new shirt. And that’s not even taking into account all the new kids who are gonna come ‘cause they lost parents to cold or sickness.”

Kath nodded grimly, “It’s what Jack would do.”

“I know,” Davey admitted.

The only thing I have ever known

...

If only New York wasn’t so far away

Santa Fe wasn’t even cold in winter, which made Jack feel strangely guilty. It made him think more of his kids, of Kath, Sarah, and especially of Davey, and how they had to be nearly freezing to death up in New York.

“I’m worried about them,” he admitted to Sophia.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, Jack.”

He knew better than her that some of them probably wouldn’t be, and he wasn’t even close to having enough to go to them.

He hoped the flu didn’t come through too bad this year. They’d lost kids to it in the past.

The only thing worse than watching a kid die would be losing one and not being there for them in the end, not being able to even try to ease their pain.

Oh, God, Jack hoped Davey, Crutchie, and Race were handling things.

...

I will be there every step of the way

Davey swore under his breath as he took a step out of the bunk room for a five second break.

They didn’t know who had brought the flu home, but it was bad. Half the Lodging House was down, including Race and Crutchie. Davey was the only leader still standing.

Well, besides Katherine, technically, but they weren’t letting her in the house.

They had some medicine, bought with the money they were going to use to bring Jack home, but they couldn’t afford to give it to everyone; just the really bad cases. The cases that looked like somebody was about to die.

God, if Jack had been doing this every winter since he was 14, Davey was amazed he was still sane.

“You alright, kid?” Kloppman asked.

Davey nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Kloppman raised an eyebrow, “That’s what Jack always used to say.”

“Especially when he wasn’t,” Davey mumbled, “I know. Fine. I’m not fine. Is that what you wanted me to say?”

“Bottlin’ it up never helps. I know Jack leavin’, even when it was temporary, hurt you more than the others. I know what he means to you.”

A smile flickered across Davey’s face, half-delirious. He’d always suspected Kloppman knew about them, and judging by the tone of his voice, he definitely did.

“Kid, it’s okay to miss him.”

“I do miss him. Every minute. But he’s not the one who needs me right now.”

Davey took a deep breath, grabbing a few handkerchiefs off the drying line, and headed back for the bunks full of sick kids.

“Hey, Davey?”

Davey stopped, “Yeah?”

“Thanks. For takin’ care of the boys while Jack’s gone.”

“No problem.”

Davey couldn’t imagine not taking care of them when they clearly needed him.

They needed Jack, in reality, but he would have to do for now.

God, he barely could. Especially when he needed Jack, too.

...

And when you’re scared and alone

Spring coming in Santa Fe wasn’t as noticeable as it was in New York.

Counting back the days, Jack realized that he’d been there for almost six months.

He’d been in his mother’s birthplace, his childhood fantasy, for six months.

Shit. He’d been trying not to think about it. How long he’d been gone. How different his family must be and how much they must miss him.

All he did was think about them. His brothers and sisters. The only family he’d ever known. His lover, Davey, that wonderful boy waiting for him back home.

Hopefully still waiting for him. If Davey had moved on by now, Jack wouldn’t blame him.

God, how had he taken so long to realize that they were the family he’d been looking for?

Why was he just realizing now that Davey was his Santa Fe?

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

Sophia was standing on the porch behind him, and Jack had a sudden realization that from his new job to the house he was staying in with his aunt, he hadn’t spoken English in months.

He’d always loved his mama’s language. Loved speaking it with Jojo or whoever else happened to be around who understood.

He still loved it. Honestly, Jack couldn’t remember feeling as close to his mother as he did here.

But she’d been gone a long time, and he had more people he loved now still alive back in New York.

As hard as he’d tried, Davey had never been able to get Spanish. Jack missed laughing at his terrible pronunciation, then just switching to English and spending the whole night talking between kisses.

“I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout him,” he mumbled.

“I’m sure he’s thinking of you, too,” Sophia said.

Jack hoped Davey wasn’t feeling as lonely as he was right now, clinging to memories and missing the person who had become the embodiment of his dreams.

Davey wasn’t Santa Fe. He was New York.

He was Jack’s home.

Just know that I’m already home

...

Davey stared off in the direction of the train station on the first sunny day of the season.

It had been over six months since he last saw Jack Kelly.

They hadn’t lost anybody this winter, but it had come close. Now, the weather was starting to warm up, and Davey was debating whether or not to start saving for a train ticket again or not.

He was sure if Jack was still alive, he was doing everything he could to get home. He could use all the help he could get.

But on the other hand, after how close they had come to losing Crutchie, to losing Smalls and Blink, Davey wasn’t sure they shouldn’t just start saving up for next winter.

Still, he stared towards the train station. He still had dreams that he’d see a familiar silhouette coming home from there sometimes.

“Wanna go sell down there?” Crutchie asked.

They were selling together today. Les was selling with Mush.

He just shrugged, “If you want to.”

Davey was finding it hard to show enthusiasm for anything lately. He was getting to be nearly as good a liar as Jack, just smiling and joking around to hawk papers.

“He’s comin’ home. As soon as he can. Ya know that, right?”

“You don’t have to put on a happy face for me, Crutchie. I know you miss him as much as I do.”

Crutchie took a deep breath, “Yeah. Yeah, I mean, of course I do. He’s my brother, blood be damned. And we both know Race runs away to Sheepshead to hide how he does, too.”

The three of them were messes, weren’t they, desperately trying to keep the others from losing hope? Especially when they were the ones breaking the most from this.

Davey tossed an arm around his friend’s shoulders and squeezed, “Kath’s got a front page story again today. Let’s sell a ton for her.”

Crutchie grinned, elbowing him, “Of course. Bet I can sell more’n you.”

“In your dreams, Morris.”

His laugh sounded fake, but Davey didn’t let himself think about it.

One day, someone would come home from the train station.

Until then, Davey would make sure home was still there for him.

With one last glance towards the station, Davey turned and headed towards his and Crutchie’s selling spot.

Just know that I’m already home

Part 2 here!

#newsies #javid #javey #angst #jack x davey #jack kelly #davey jacobs #david jacobs #david davey jacobs #songfic #already home #violet’s writing

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carveredlunds · 3 years

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“I won’t be hands-on”: A meta on Jack becoming the new God

“But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?” -- Dean Winchester, season 4, episode 2 “People pray to you. People build churches for you. They fight wars in your name, and you did nothing.” -- Dean Winchester, season 11, episode 21 “I won’t be hands-on. Chuck put himself in the story. That was his mistake. But I learned from you, and my mother, and Castiel, that when people have to be their best, they can be. And that’s what to believe in.” -- Jack Kline, season 15, episode 19

I’ve still barely processed my anger at the end of the Brothers VS. God storyline. The idea of Jack being a “new God” is ridiculous. Not only does it ignore established lore of the universe by reducing Chuck to a human who was (apparently) just filled with divinity which can be sucked out of him like Daniel Plainview drinking his milkshake (yes, that’s a There Will Be Blood reference!), rob Amara of any agency by making her exist inside her nephew (ew), and make Jack (who has always been an OP character) a super duper Gary Stu, but its final message is an insult to long-held beliefs of both of the brothers, especially Dean.

Let’s break it down, shall we?

Ever since the earliest seasons, Dean has had an issue with the state of the world. In season 2, episode 13, Houses of the Holy, he makes the following pessimistic speech to Sam:

There's no higher power, there's no God. I mean, there's just chaos, and violence, and random unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere, and rips you to shreds.

There are too many mentions of Dean’s lack of faith in God to go through each one, but it essentially boils down to this -- Dean can’t believe there is a God, because the world is so full of suffering and injustice, and no God would allow that to happen. It’s a classic atheist stance, held by a lot of people. But it goes a little further than that. In season 5, episode 2, Good God, Y’all, Dean says the following to Castiel:

Even if there is a God, he is either dead -- and that's the generous theory -- or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us. I mean, look around you, man.

So, what a lot of atheists point out is that not only do they not believe in God, but they often believe that, if there is a God, he is not worthy of worship or praise, because he made such an unfair, pain-filled, evil, world (for a very eloquent speech on this, check out Stephen Fry talking about it.) I’m not going to get into the Problem of Evil, because I’m not a theologian, and that’s not the point of this meta. But basically, that’s Dean’s stance on the subject of God. At first, Dean doesn’t believe there is a God, and then, when he’s forced to accept that there is, his belief changes to “God must be dead, or evil”.

Enter Chuck Shurley in season 11. At last, Dean is able to actually vent his feelings to God, and they have this exchange:

CHUCK: You're frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands-on. Real hands-on for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being over-involved is no longer parenting. It's enabling. DEAN: But it didn't get better.

Given what we later find out about Chuck, it’s easy to say he’s lying. He was hyper-involved all along, pulling the strings, being the puppet master. This is what Dabb wants us to believe. Even though it literally ignores 14 seasons of established canon which say that God was an absentee father. Even though it ruins the narrative parallel between John Winchester and Chuck. Even though it retcons season 11, episode 20, Don’t Call Me Shurley -- one of the most beloved episodes, adored by fans and cherished by Rob Benedict as his favourite episode.

But sure. Let’s say Chuck is lying. That’s not even the point. The point is that Dean isn’t satisfied with a God who took a backseat, and let humanity stumble along by themselves. He wanted a God who steps in, who is involved, who stops suffering, and helps his creation.

Even Sam Winchester, the one with all the faith, eventually loses his cool with God, and, in season 14, episode 20, Moriah, says the following to Chuck:

Then why don’t you do something? If I had your power, I --

If he had God’s power, he’d... what? Rid the world of suffering and evil? Remove all the monsters? Get involved? Maybe even all of the above, given the context of the whole conversation. But again, the point is that Sam is angry at Chuck’s lack of involvement.

Fast forward to season 15, episode 19, Inherit the Earth, and the conversation between Jack and the brothers.

JACK: I’m already there. DEAN: Where? JACK: Everywhere. SAM: So you are... Him?

This isn’t the first part of the interaction that I take issue with, but I’ll focus on it anyway, otherwise this meta will be 1000 words long. The small gasp Dean gives when Jack says he’s “everywhere”? The almost reverent way Sam says “him”? The wannabe poetic explanation Jack gives to being “in every drop of falling rain, every speck of dust which the wind blows, and in the sand, and the rocks, and the sea”? It’s all supposed to bring the long-since lost mystique back to the character of God. Before he was introduced in the form of Chuck, God was only talked about reverently. Angels talked about his wrath, his power, his Divine Plan. God acted as an offscreen force, putting Sam and Dean on the plane at the beginning of season 5, bringing Castiel back from the dead in Swan Song. He was an unseen force. Yes, he intervened, but the idea of God sitting and playing a guitar? It would’ve been ludicrous in the early seasons of the show. They wanted the mystery of God as an unseen force, working in the world when the plot needed him.

All that to say, obviously that’s what they’re going with now, with Jack. He’s in everything, within everyone. But my question is... was Chuck that way too? If Jack is just God 2.0, if he’s omniscient and omnipresent, then surely, Chuck was too? Heck, we know Chuck was omniscient, because he told Amara he was, just two episodes ago.

Which brings me (in a very roundabout and rambling way) to the double standard here. It is okay for Jack to just “be in everything”, to not answer prayers, to be a “hands-off God”. But it’s not okay for Chuck to do that? It’s okay for Jack to make some speech about how people can find him by looking within, but that they don’t have to pray to him. News flash, kiddo: People are still going to pray to you. So... are you just ignoring those prayers? Jack is doing exactly what Chuck did, but, where Chuck was shown by the narrative to be a villain for stepping back, this is seen as a good thing. Because they played some sad music, and Sam and Dean looked solemn, and Jack talked about the power of human goodness. The show was screaming at us to see this as a good thing, to see Jack as a benevolent force, to be glad that the new Man With A Plan was the three year old son of Lucifer, instead of the ancient deity that’s been doing the job since the dawn of time.

And Sam and Dean do think this is a good thing. They get all teary-eyed, and let their surrogate son walk away in his fancy white suit (which has got to be a call back to both Chuck’s Swan Song appearance, and his final scene in Inherent the Earth, right?)

Everyone is talking about the Death of the Author, and how Chuck had to step aside to allow the boys to be free. But there was no Death of the Author. There was just a change in management. Jack is still fulfilling the role that Chuck once did -- an uninvolved, neutral, God, with all the power in the universe at his disposal, but apparently no intention of using it.

We have no reason to believe that Jack didn’t bring the world back exactly as it was before Chuck vanished everyone. All the murderers, rapists, monsters, abusers, are back. All the evil and suffering which Dean hated so much in the earlier seasons is still happening. The difference now? God is a three year old who looks like he’s in his mid-twenties.

And the most annoying thing? The show itself lampshaded, in season 15, episode 13, Destiny’s Child, how ridiculous it would be if Jack took over the role of God:

DEAN: But if Jack kills her... Kind of a family plan. Then there's no God, there's no Darkness. Nothing out of balance. World saved. SAM: Okay, yeah, but then who takes over? Uh, Jack? [Jack enters, chewing gum. He blows a bubble and pops it, grinning proudly] JACK: I just learned how to do that. DEAN: Probably not.

But now he’s made some saccharine speech about the inherent goodness of humanity, and Sam and Dean have conveniently forgotten how they hated it when God did nothing, and we’re all supposed to be okay with this, because Chuck turned out (over the course of one season) to be nothing like the neutral, distant, God we’d come to know over 14 seasons, but instead, he was a megalomaniacal control freak who apparently sent Kevin to Hell, tortured Sam, and is personally responsible for every bad thing that ever happens in the world, and has happened to the brothers. (Side note: Does this mean that they’ll blame Jack now, when bad things happen to them?)

I could go on about how sapping Chuck of his “powers” doesn’t stop him being God, because being God is more than just being a human filled with God-ness, and Chuck was never canonically said to be possessing a human vessel the way angels and demons do, but this is already long enough. So, sure. Let the Devil’s kid go be the rain, or whatever.

#supernatural #spn #spn meta #spn spoilers #jack kline #chuck shurley #sophie speaks #sophie talks about spn #i am so tired tbh

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lotusss-flowerbomb · 4 years

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Dark Knight (2)

Bucky x reader

Warnings: violence, smut (y’all knew it was coming), 18+

A/N: Hey cousins! Just wanted to thank you all for your interest in this fic. I hope this chapter lives up to the expectations you all had for the rest of this story. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3,801-ish

********

You clawed at Andrew's face trying to get him to release you. When that didn't work you reached out for a piece of the glass and cut his face. He finally let go and you coughed and gasped for air.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!!" He lunged for you again.

You swung the glass towards him again and then his entire body went flying into a wall. You looked up to see Bucky rushing towards you.

He helped you up and examined your face and body.

"Wait!" You stopped him when he got close to glass.

"Deep breath," he said to you just before yanking the glass from your arm.

"Ow! You didn't even let me inhale," you screeched.

You heard Andrew groaning as he scrambled to get to his feet. Bucky turned towards him and moved you behind his back. He let Andrew stand before stalking towards him.

He spit blood on the floor before rolling his neck and preparing for a fight. He swung his fist towards Bucky who easily dodged it, grabbed his hand and broke it. The high pitched howl that left his mouth could’ve awakened the dead.

Bucky didn't stop there. He grabbed the same arm, punched his elbow completely shattering it and dislocated his shoulder before throwing a punch to his ribs cracking those too. When Andrew dropped to the ground, Bucky stomped on the shin of his right leg. Another loud crunch echoes through the room and then picked him up by his throat and squeezed.

"Bucky! Bucky, stop, you're gonna kill him!" You tried pulling on his arm.

"He deserves it," he said and squeezed a little tighter.

Andrew's eyes started rolling to the back of his head and he was begging to foam at the mouth. His body dangling as the entire right side was broken.

"I know, but not right now. Bucky, please don't!" You stood in front of him and put your hands on his face.

Bucky finally let him go and his body hit the floor with a loud thud. He wasn't moving.

Just then Steve and Wanda came bursting through the front door. They looked to you and Bucky and then at the still body on the floor.

"He'll live," Bucky nudged his broken shin with his foot and Andrew sucked in a bunch of air and started coughing.

Shortly after, the police walked in and Wanda walked you outside to be seen by a medic. They examined you, cleaned up your cut and then prepared a stretcher for a broken Andrew.

Wanda stood by you while you gave your statement to the police before heading back inside.

"I'll pour you a drink," she sat you down once you reached the kitchen and grabbed a glass and a bottle of wine for you. Once the police left Steve came in and hugged you. Bucky stood across from you on the other side of the island.

"I told you," he pointed his finger at you. "I told you not to bring men to this house." He yelled.

"Bucky, you might want to —" Wanda started, but he cut her off.

"No! Stay out of it," he looked at her. "What if our daughter would have been here? He could have hurt her!"

You couldn't stop the tears from flowing. You were hurt by his words. How could he ever think that you'd put your child in danger?

"I'm not falling for the tears. If you weren't being so fucking stu —"

You threw your wine in his face before he could finish his statement and tossed the glass like a championship baseball pitcher. It hit the counter top, but Wanda used her powers and stopped it before it shattered everywhere.

"Okay, everyone just calm down," Steve tried to reason.

"Fuck you, James Barnes!" You got up from your seat and walked towards the stairs. You slammed your bedroom door behind you.

"You're a real ass do you know that?" Wanda started in on him, "she didn't invite him here. He followed her home, she thinks it may have been from the coffee shop where they met."

Bucky visibly deflated. He really was an ass.

"Looks like you've got a whole lot of apologizing to do," Steve smacked his back. "We'll get out of here, so you can get to it."

He and Wanda left. Bucky cleaned up the pieces of glass from the lamp as he thought about how he was going to apologize for the things he said.

********

When he was finished, he washed his face and decided that pouring you another glass of wine was the best he could do in the moment. He grabbed the bottle and a glass and headed up to the bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, he could hear you sniffling. He took a deep breath and continued on. Normally, he'd just leave until you calmed down, but now wasn't the time for him to run.

He knocked on the door softly before entering. You were lying in bed with your back towards the door hugging your body pillow.

"Go away," you said to him.

"I'm sorry, doll," he walked over to you and sat down. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I let my anger get the best of me."

"Just go, Buck."

"I can't do that."

"Why not? It's not like you don't know how," you snapped.

Bucky exhaled. He knew you still held resentment towards him for leaving. He never gave you a reason why he did and now might be the perfect time to tell you.

"I didn't just leave, because I don't love you or want to be a family..."

His long pause made you turn around. You made a hand motion for him to continue.

Bucky took a deep breath and proceeded with his explanation.

"I almost died on that mission," he looked down at the floor. "I had been back at the compound healing for almost a week before I came home."

"You what?!" You sprang up into a sitting position.

"Let me finish," he put his hand up. "While I was in the medbay, I just kept thinking about how it would hurt you and Jordy if I would have actually died. I figured it would be best for me to distance myself sooner rather than later just in case you ever had to be without me. You'd already know what it felt like."

The room went completely silent. Bucky couldn't place the look on your face. He couldn't tell if you were angry, sad or confused. You'd somehow managed to fit them all into one glare.

You picked up a pillow and swung it at him.

"That has got to be the dumbest fucking thing that I have ever heard in my entire life!" You kept hitting him.

"I know," he snatched the pillow away. "I know that it was stupid. It felt like the thing that I should do at the moment. I immediately regretted it, but after I'd already said that I wanted to leave I couldn't take it back."

You stood, no longer able to keep still.

"Why couldn't you just tell me about the mission?" You paced back and forth. "Why do you have to be so dramatic?!"

"I couldn't tell you, because I already know you would've asked me to quit and I can't do that. After the things I've done, I owe it to the world to keep doing what I do." He said.

You stopped in your tracks and walked over to him, pushing his thighs apart with your legs, so you could stand in between them. You cupped his face in your hands and looked into his eyes. They were full of sadness.

"Sweetheart, you're the only person on that team to give your life twice, because you were saving the world. You owe it absolutely nothing." You pressed your forehead to his.

He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist. This was the first time he'd been able to hug you in a long time and he missed it more than he was willing to admit.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to kiss you right now, but after what you had just gone through he felt like now wasn't the time.

"I'll run you a bath, it should help you relax so you'll get a little sleep tonight." He let you go and stood before he was no longer able to contain himself.

"Thank you. Oh hey, after that, can you run to the kitchen and grab me two slices of bread?" You requested.

"Bread? Why?" He asked, completely confused.

"I just need it," you shrugged and picked up the bottle of wine. You turned it up and started drinking. At this stage in “needing a drink” a cup was useless.

Bucky started the bath and then went to the kitchen for the bread you asked for. He seriously couldn't figure out what you needed with bread, but you hadn't eaten anything, so maybe you were just hungry?

"Ooh, yay," you did a little clap when he returned and handed you the slices. You stood from your spot on the bed directly in front of him.

"You were too afraid to tell me the truth about your near death experience, so you decided to be a drama queen and break up with me." You placed a slice of the bread on each side of his face, "What are you?"

"For fucks sake," he rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying it."

"You know I've always wanted to do this and honestly, it is the least you could do. Now, what are you?"

Bucky stared at you for a moment before mumbling the answer under his breath.

"Aht! Aht! Louder for the people in the back. What are you?" You pressed the bread onto his face more. You were trying your hardest not to laugh.

"An idiot sandwich," he said before moving.

The damn broke and you flooded the room with laughter. Ever since you saw the old episode of Hell's Kitchen when Gordon Ramsey said that to a contestant, you’d bided your time until you had an opportunity to do it.

"It's not that funny," he rolled his eyes again.

"Yes, it is. You're just upset that I did it to you," you cackled.

He walked out of the room to stop the water in the tub and quickly came back to tell you the bath was ready. You thanked him and started getting undressed when you realized he was still in the room.

"Get out."

"I've seen you naked a million times."

"Well it won't be one million one. Go, go, go." You shooed him away.

He turned and left the room. You went to your tub and sank down into the perfectly tempered water. He still remembered exactly how you like it. You smiled to yourself.

********

After your bath, you applied your favorite body butter and put on a sports bra and shorts. They'd be your pajamas for the night. You could hear the TV playing downstairs. You shouldn't have been surprised. After what happened today Bucky couldn't be paid to leave you alone tonight.

You crawled into bed and tossed and turned for a while before calling out for Bucky. He appeared at the door within seconds and you never heard him coming.

"I don't think that I'll ever get used to you being able to be all stealth mode when you want to be," you said to him.

"What's wrong?" He came into the room.

"Can you get in bed with me? I can't sleep." You moved over and pulled the cover back.

"Are you sure?"

You patted the bed. The spot that was once his was ready and waiting for him. He kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his underwear. He never slept in his clothes, because of his unusually hot body temperature.

He slid into the bed beside you. You couldn't resist reaching up and pushing his hair out of his face.

"I've been meaning to ask, how'd you get here so quickly earlier?"

"I was already on the way here."

"Really? But you knew Jordy was at my sister's, so why were you coming?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "I just had a feeling and then I got your call. I could hear you telling him to leave and then that... that scream. I mean, I fell off of a train, but hearing you... I've never been so scared in my life." His voice shook a little.

You could see the tears in his eyes.

"Oh no, Buck, don't cry," you wiped the tears away just as they were about to fall. "Just like always, you were just in time. Swooped in like my dark knight."

You pushed a stubborn stray loc of hair from his face and kissed his forehead. Then his cheek. You looked down at his mouth and back up into his eyes. You knew that you shouldn't, but your emotions were getting the best of you.

"Thank you for saving me and staying with me tonight," you said before kissing his lips slowly and softly.

You kissed him again and again until your tongue invaded his mouth. Basking in the feel of such a familiar action. One you'd both been missing.

He pulled away and broke the kiss, but you weren't done, so you planted little kisses on his neck.

"We shouldn't do this, doll. You're on an emotional wave right now and you'll regret it." He tried to reason.

"Mmm hmm," you hummed just before biting his earlobe. You knew that drove him insane. You slowly raked your fingers down his chest.

"I'm serious, It's been months and if we start this I won't be able to stop."

"You promise?" You asked and gripped his rock hard dick.

He flipped you on to your back and crashed his mouth into yours. He pressed his hips into you causing you to moan in his mouth. He pulled your bra over your head and threw it to the floor. Dipping his head to take a nipple into his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the erected bud.

He rubbed his finger lightly over your clit in a circular motion. The whisper of a touch was sending chills up your spine. Then he pressed down on your clit and rubbed his finger around your slick hole before slowly sticking it inside.

The tiny gasp that escaped your mouth made him smile. He pulled his finger out and ran it across your lips.

"Open," he instructed. You opened your mouth and sucked your juices from his finger. "That's my girl," he said before replacing his finger with his tongue.

He lowered himself in between your legs, pulled off your shorts and trailed kisses down your right thigh until he reached your mound.

"Hold them wide open for me," he placed your hands on your thighs.

You were already shaking. You knew you wouldn't be able to keep your legs open while he ate your pussy.

He flicked his tongue over your clit slow at first and then fast. He stuck his tongue in your core and then sucked your sensitive bud into his mouth.

"Yessss, baby," you arched your back and pushed your pussy into his face even more.

You let go of your legs, but he quickly replaced your hands with his own. You reached down and grabbed a fist full of his hair and lifted his head a little. He peered up at you with his lust blown eyes.

"Spit on it."

He did as he was told and swirled it around with his tongue. He sucked your clit into his mouth really hard and then let it go with a loud pop. You pushed your hips up for him to do it again. Over and over and over again, until he started fucking you with his tongue again.

"Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm gonna cum!" You screamed and rubbed your clit furiously just before squirting all over his face.

He moved back just enough to watch. Your legs were shaking so hard the bed frame was moving.

You grabbed his chin to pull him back up to you and pushed his wet hair from his face and kissed him.

"I need you. I need you right now," you said as you pushed at his underwear.

Bucky kicked the shorts off, but he took his time before entering you. Your legs were spread and your juicy glistening pussy was ready and waiting for him. He stroked himself slowly as he admired all of you.

You rubbed your clit and then patted your pussy softly before using your fingers to spread the lips. He couldn't resist anymore after that. You were opening up for him and he wanted to give you what you were waiting for.

He slid into you leisurely. He wanted to feel every part of you in this moment. You dug your nails into his ass urging him to give you more. When he finally bottomed out he stilled. He tucked his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm gonna cum right now if I move. Give me a moment." He breathed.

You tightened your pussy around his throbbing cock.

"Fuccckkkk, please, doll, don't!" He pleaded with you.

You locked your legs around him and squeezed some more. When he tried to pull out his body stiffened and his toes curled. He moaned loudly as he bit your shoulder and released himself inside of you.

You smiled and silently congratulated yourself on a job well done.

Bucky never pulled out. His dick was still very much hard and ready to go. He sat up and looked at you.

"Why?"

"Why not?" You smirked.

He pulled out and flipped you over on your stomach.

"You know what to do," he said and slapped your ass.

Your pussy trembled from excitement. You rested your face on your hands, raised yourself up on your knees just a little and arched your back.

He spread your ass cheeks apart and watched as you pushed his cum from your pussy. He used the tip of his dick to rub it around and then he entered you in one swift push.

He fucked you from behind. Quick, rough pumps in and out of your pussy. You gripped the sheets and screamed into the mattress when you felt another orgasm building.

"Don't you fucking dare," he growled.

"No, please, I can't. I can't!" You panted.

"What did I say?" He smacked your ass hard. That didn't help the situation. He knew the harder he hit you the closer it would push you to cumming.

He slapped your ass again.

"Damn it, Bucky!!"

"Next time," he smacked your ass once more, "when I say stop, you stop."

Smack!

"I hate you so much," you clenched your eyes shut. You were literally on the verge of tears not being able to cum.

He pressed his chest to your back. "I love you too," he chuckled and kissed your neck.

He finally pulled out and gave you a break, but only for a moment. He repositioned you on your back and reentered your silk cavern. He'd completely switched his pace this time, so he could see you. He loved the way you'd bite your lip as he rolled his hips into you.

He started slow and then sped up little by little. You mewled beneath him as he stretched you with every stroke. He pushed your knees to your chest. He wanted you completely open to him.

"Bucky I —"

"It's okay, my love, go ahead." He rubbed your clit with his vibranium fingers. The light vibration you felt made your entire body tingle.

Your legs started shaking a little and then you felt the vibration intensity from his fingers increase. He fucked you harder and harder until your pussy erupted. You dug your nails into his right arm as you rode the wave of your orgasm.

Bucky's breaths were getting shorter and his moans were getting louder. He was about to cum.

The bed shook with every movement, but you could hear that something was off.

"Bucky stop..."

"No, this is my pussy," he growled.

He was so close and he thought you didn't want him to cum inside of you, so he drove into you harder. He grabbed the headboard as he coated your walls with his essence.

"No, the bed is gonna — shit!"

Before you could complete your sentence, the entire thing caved. When you opened your eyes he had you wrapped in arms.

You looked at each other and bust out laughing.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"I'm fine," you rolled off of him and stood to look at the damage the two of you had just caused.

"I can't believe you broke my bed," you said in disbelief.

He walked over to the fallen mattress and pointed at the big wet spot.

"You do that and you can't believe that I broke the bed?!"

"Bucky, how are we gonna explain this to Jordy? She'll be home in a few hours."

********

You changed the sheets and Bucky did his best to prop the bed frame and mattress back up. He considered leaving before your sister dropped Jordyn back home, but you both decided that she would be more excited to see him upon arrival.

When you heard the front door open, your energetic little girl was already screaming for her dad and jumping into his arms.

"Well hello to you too, Jordy." You said faking hurt that she'd completely ignored you.

"Oh sorry, hi mommy," she leaned over to kiss your forehead.

Your sister raised her eyebrow and before she could say anything you swept her away to tell her about what happened the night before. You heard Bucky tell Jordyn to take her things up to her room and then she yelled something about having a present for you.

Suddenly there was a loud crash and the three of you went running up the steps to see what happened.

"I didn't touch it! It fell on its own," she yelled and ran into her father's arms.

"Oh no, it's okay baby daddy's the one who broke the bed," Bucky said before he realized.

"How?" She asked. Her little face was completely scrunched in confusion.

You waited for his explanation since he was the one to blab.

"I uhh... Was jumping on it??"

"Oh... Be careful next time," she cautioned.

You shook your head and turned to go back downstairs. You all said your goodbyes to your sister and settled in to have lunch. Bucky couldn't keep his eyes off of you and his baby girl. He was a fool to ever think that being away from you was a good idea. He'd do his best to fix this and make everything right again.

END

********

Taglist:

@titty-teetee

@bluestarego

@ilovesupersoldiers

@andycanbeemotional

@bubblegumbarnes

@cleflove

@rosalynshields

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@fanfictiontrash9

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky x you #Smut #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #Avengers #avengers fic #Lotusss Writes

190 notes · View notes

cor-of-the-crownsguard · 4 years

Text

Here (Prompto x GN! Reader Oneshot ANGST)

May’s Note: At first when I was writing, I was like “OH NO, IT’S SO SAD, THERE MIGHT NOT BE A HAPPY ENDING!” But then I finished it and luckily there is, so yay! Also, this is going by the canonical timeline of the story and not like gameplay rules! I hope y’all enjoy!

Requested by: @luckybearsworld

Summary: After the fall of Insomnia, you’ve been trying your best to keep strong and to cheer others up. Some things just can’t be held in for long...

WARNING: Angst (happy ending), mentions of death, and heavy self guilt-tripping ahead!

I’m so tired...

“Hey, Gladio, what day is it today?”

You heard a slight movement from behind you, hearing Gladio’s voice simply answer, “June twenty-seventh.”

You nodded at the answer, not taking your eyes away from the window that showed what was left of Altissia. “Okay. Thank you.”

You assumed Gladio returned the nod, not hearing another word from the Shield. The last time you checked, it was just you, Gladio, and Prompto in the lobby, Ignis sitting with the unconscious Noctis.

June twenty-seveth... That doesn’t sound right at all. It couldn’t have been a month since leaving Insomnia, especially with everything that happened in that short time. After all, it was supposed to be you and your fellow Crownsguards protecting Noctis as he was going to marry Lunafreya. It was supposed to be a relaxing trip with you and your friends.

But the next thing you knew, you woke up to learn that Insomnia has fallen, along with King Regis and what you thought Lunafreya, only to learn that she lived after you helped Noctis find a Royal Arm; you guys fought Titan and found Ramuh, two Astrals that are aiding Noctis; you infiltrated an imperial base to get the Regalia back; you fought the mercenary Aranea and barely won; and you went to seek the blessing of Leviathan only for Lunafreya to be pulled into the depths of Altissia, Ignis to become blind by the Ring’s powers, and Noctis to be unconscious the past few days. And, in between all of this chaos, you guys fought Imperials that were chasing you while on Hunts to earn more gil.

I’m so tired, you thought again, turning your gaze away to walk towards the others. You took note of how neither of the two moved from their spots on the chairs by the back wall, completely ignored by strangers who were leaving the city. You sat down in the middle of Prompto and Gladio, both of them silent at your actions.

I don’t know how much longer I can handle this...

You let out a silent sigh and looked towards the wall, your hands resting on your knees as if you were trying to keep yourself up. You needed to be strong. You were a Crownsguard for astrals’ sake. You had to be not only for your king, but for your comrades, as well. Ignis needs everyone now that he can’t see, so it’s not fair to him for you to show any signs of weakness now.

You were so lost in thought that you almost didn’t feel a hand grab yours, though the slight warmth of it broke your concentration. You looked to the right to see Prompto holding your hand, squeezing it as if he was about to lose you, too. He has always been so close to you and went to you when he needed to get something off his chest, so it was only natural for him to need you now.

You squeezed his hand back and gave him a hopeful smile, watching his face as he looked at you. “He will be okay,” you reassured him, “Noct is strong; he’ll wake up soon.”

Prompto took in a deep breath and sighed, giving you the same smile back, nodding, and looking away. He still gripped your hand, but you didn’t try to pull away. You needed his grip to remind you that you weren’t alone.

It wasn’t long before the sun began to set again for the third time, marking it the third day since Lunafreya’s death and Noctis’ slumber. Still, you refused to move from your seat, unable to bring yourself to look at Noctis or Ignis.

Somehow, you felt that everything that happened was your fault. If only you didn’t skip out on your training when you first started years ago. If only you insisted to be by Noctis’ side when he went to fight the Leviathan. If only you could’ve taken the place of Lunafreya so that she could be here instead of you. If only you took the power of the Ring instead of Ignis. Then maybe, just maybe, everything would’ve been different.

“I think we should head to bed,” Gladio suggested, finally standing from his seat of the lobby.

You and Prompto didn’t say another word as you walked back up the stairs, heading towards the room you booked with the five of you in mind. Prompto opened the door to show a sleeping Noctis on the bed, Ignis on a free chair by the door. He held a black cane by his side as he kept his eyes closed, waiting for them to heal. Your chest began to tighten at the sight, tremendous guilt slowly washing over as he turned his head towards your direction.

“Is it already night?” Ignis asked to you three, though he couldn’t look at you directly, “I see.”

Slowly, he stood up and grabbed his cane, standing by himself. Immediately, you went and grabbed his arm, slowly guiding him towards a bed. When he felt the bed and sat down, he let out a quiet ‘thank you’ before putting down the cane again.

As he took off his new sunglasses to show his scarred eyes, the guilt began swarming you at a faster rate. It was suffocating as you walked away from Ignis and let him do his routine, looking at Gladio and Prompto. “I’ll keep a watch out in case anyone tries to come in,” you said, trying to come up with a good excuse to just be alone.

They seemed to have bought it as Gladio nodded, patting your shoulder. “Alright, then. We should be safe, but it doesn’t hurt stay alert. Just stop after an hour and get some rest, okay?”

You nodded in response, patting both Gladio and Prompto on the shoulder before leaving. Even though you noticed the slightly confused look on Prompto’s face as you left, you didn’t care as the guilt was now making it too hard to even think correctly.

Quickly, but in a way that wouldn’t give your emotions away, you closed the door behind you and headed out of the hotel, going into the night of what was left of Altissia. Debris was thrown about and puddles were everywhere, almost everything being touched by destruction in one way or another. Buildings either crumbled from the lack of stone and brick or were intacted, but the bottom of it being flooded. Streets were missing parts of itself while adding the misplaced gondolas into the path. Everything was so out of place that you would think that this place was a ruin from the past than a ruin from the present.

It’s your fault...

You stopped yourself in front of what you think used to be a vendor spot, noticing that it was nearly half a mile from the hotel. Were you walking this entire time without knowing? How were the bridges you crossed still intacted? Did anyone even see you walk by at all?

You didn’t question it anymore, your chest tightening in a painful way. You walked towards the edge of the center and gripped the railing that was in front of you, the cool metal shocking you, but not enough. It wasn’t long before you felt a single tear slowly leave your eye and roll down your cold cheek. First it was one. Then two. Then four. Before you knew it, you were letting out choked sobs of grief in solitude, unable to stop yourself from the flood that washed over you.

Slowly, you fell to your knees and gripped the railings with both hands now, head sunk down as you let the tears fall. It was getting harder to breathe in between your cries, but it didn’t matter to you. You could only hear the same sentences repeat in your head like a broken record:

If only you tried harder...

I’m so tired...

You’re not a Crownsguard...

You should have been with Lunafreya...

I don’t want to do this anymore...

Ignis would still be able to see if you just took the Ring instead...

Coward...

These thoughts were buzzing in your head, too loud for you to hear the sounds of footsteps come towards you. You were so lost in your misery that you failed to notice a shocked Prompto staring at your form. He followed you after he barely noticed how different you looked when you left. Never had he ever seen you so broken before. The blonde has only known you as the one to make quick comebacks at his jokes. You would say encouraging words to everyone that motivated them to do anything. You always kept a smile on your face and always stood up tall, never even seeming to be bothered by anything.

Oh, how stupid and selfish he felt when he saw you like this and realized that he didn’t even think about your feelings. After all, you’re human, too. Of course you would feel anger and grief just like him, so why didn’t he realize it sooner? And why didn’t you say anything sooner? You allowed everyone to state their grievances to you, so why didn’t you do the same in return? How many times have you cried by yourself, with no one around to comfort you like how you comforted him?

It was only a minute later when you felt a hand go on your back. You turned quickly and were prepared to punch the person when you stopped. Prompto was crouched down behind you, pity and sadness resting on his freckles face. Quickly, you sniffled and gave him a small smile of fake reassurance, lifting your hand to wipe your cheeks. “Oh, hey, Prom. I didn’t see you-“

Before your hand met your cheek, Prompto grabbed your wrist gently to stop you. You looked into his blue eyes and just stared as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly, “Cry.”

You didn’t wait a second longer before you began crying again, this time to the person who you inevitably cared about the most. That just made you feel worse, though. After all, you were supposed to care about Noctis and Regis before anyone, including yourself. So caring about Prompto more than the prince and king just made you feel so complicated.

Slowly, you returned the hug, gripping his jacket with tight fists. You continued to cry loudly in the arms of Prompto, who simply rubbed your back while shedding a few silent tears himself.

“I-It should’ve been me, Prom,” you finally let out, your voice hoarse from all the crying, “I-I should’ve been there to save King Regis. I should’ve been the one to take Lunafreya’s place. I should’ve been the one to lose my eyesight, not Ignis. I wasn’t strong enough. I’m not strong enough. I’m so sorry.”

Prompto’s stomach dropped at your words, feeling even more guilty by the second. You held all of this pain in you for who knows how long. You were alone and in a constant battle with yourself, and yet he didn’t notice. It was something he was afraid to hear, knowing that someone you love with your entire being going through all of this. He had to make it up to you.

As you kept spewing out your guilt to him, Prompto slowly loosened his grip on you and putting one hand behind your head. You stopped talking, waiting for him to say something in return. What you didn’t expect was the feeling of his lips kissing your left tear stained cheek as you kept crying.

You couldn’t help but let out a tiny gasp, trying not to move an inch. Prompto stopped and pulled away to look at you, moving the hand at the back of your head to your right cheek. He rubbed his thumb against it to stop your tears and you instinctively leaned your head against it, his hands warm compared to your cold cheek. “Hey,” he began, his tone making you look at his bright blue eyes. Were your eyes still as bright as his? Were they still full of hope and joy? Or were they dull from all of the exhaustion you’ve felt?

You could never say because Prompto continued, “Listen to me right now. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met in my entire life. And I’m even saying stronger than Gladio. After all-“ He gave you a small smile at this. “-you’re the first person I’ve met who kicked his ass in a fight.”

You couldn’t help but let out a tiny chuckle, his smile contagious. “That was only once,” you replied, sniffling a tiny bit.

Prompto smiled a tiny bit more, happy to see you calming down a bit. “So what? That’s still hard to do and you did it! Not only that, but you always help others in any way you can. You train with Gladio, you cook with Ignis, you fish with Noctis, and you’ve been there for me more times than I could count. Whether it’s to take pictures or if to hear me complain about camping again, you’re there.”

You felt him give you another kiss on your cheek, your tears disappearing with each one. Does Prompto know what his kisses are doing? Does he know that they are calming you, yet making your heart soar at the same time? Or is this what he thinks is helping someone feel better? You’ll never know, because even Prompto doesn’t know what he’s doing. It was on instinct that he began showing you these displays of affection so boldly, not worried about possible repercussions.

“I won’t hear you say how you’re not strong when you’re the bravest and strongest person I’ve ever met,” Prompto finally said, pulling himself away so he could look into your eyes again, “If it weren’t for you, everyone, including me, would probably lose their minds out here. You make everything so much brighter, and I will do everything I can to make sure you see the same brightness as me. Understand?”

He said that as he grabbed your face with both of his hands, making you stare into his eyes. You felt yourself tear up again as you saw all the sincerity in his own teary eyes. Even if you think he didn’t care for you in a romantic way like you wish, you know that he cares still no matter what.

Moved, you nodded in response, trying so hard not to let out another sob. Your nod made Prompto smile, pulling you into another hug full of care and love. The hug was the warmest you have ever felt before, feeling all the negative thoughts that once filled your mind before drain away to be replaced with the contentment you felt. “Thank you for being here, Prom,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you two sat in the cold Altissian night,

“Thank you.”

I hope y’all enjoyed this! Thank you for requesting! ❤️

~ May ❤️

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