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oh-boy-me · 4 years

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Demon Outfits Discussed

The wait is over :) thank you for your patience and all the lovely comments on the casual discussion!!

I feel like it got longer this time, so I hope it’s all an enjoyable read! Also, I apologize for the ugly pictures--it was the easiest and fastest way to both have all the design in one image and also prevent it from stretching so far.

Like last time, please don’t take this too seriously; we love these boys and Justin doesn’t know them but has no grudges against them. We’re just harping on their fashion sense. Absolutely no hate is intended towards the boys or the design team!

Participants in the discussion were

Jo ( @jodaneko ), our art major with storyboarding/character design experience, who finds they have more in common with Satan each passing day.

Justin ( @justinlester0629 ), our fashion expert, who dressed up and filled a wine glass with water for the occasion.

Noodle (Me), our untrained eye who owns the Barbie as the Island Princess video game on three different platforms. It’s not even that good.

Featuring emergency guest star Megan ( @maggo77 ), my sister who is physically near me as we look at the backs of their designs for the first time.

Edit: Distracted by the pretty jacket, we made a mistake when putting in Levi’s silhouette rating. It’s the worst. 2/10, not 6.

Lucifer:

“Boy looks like he’s about to swing open the doors of an expensive mansion during a debutante party and give some SCATHING NEWS.” —Justin

“Short shoulder cape and a long split butt cape lol” —Jo

Jo has realized that based on both outfits, Lucifer doesn’t want people looking at his butt. Possible reasons are: he doesn’t have one, or Diavolo someone was getting distracted.

His shoes match his outfit. After last time that’s all I care about.

A triple popped color, and how many layers is the middle one? Is that a book? Dude has like 27 collars.

The forehead diamond is very important and it’s great that there are diamond buttons to match it. But uh. How about those red diamonds on his sleeves. They. They sure are there. (I actually like the red accents and that they match his gloves; I just can’t take the diamonds seriously.)

Lucifer 🤝 Some Horses Diamond on the Forehead

The peacock motif is HERE and we’re all living for it. HOWEVER, the feathers on the cape and coattails should have matched, OR there should have been more lime green because there’s so little of that color.

The pants have a pleat in the front, which Justin says means he responsibly irons his clothes, and Jo says only heightens the fact that under the capes this is a marching uniform.

Can he fly? Jo says these are baby wings that can’t support his weight, and his cape has a hole for the top pair but blocks the bottom pair? Can’t believe Lucifer handicapped himself for the sake of fashion.

The red makes it regal and the wide flowy design makes it imposing. Good job, Lucifer! I might actually be intimidated if I saw you.

Definitely the classiest outfit. You can tell they put care into it.

Mammon:

“BITCH MY BODY CANNOT TAKE THIS KIND OF SEXY, I THINK I AM OVERHEATING! NO MORE FURTHER COMMENTS, YOUR HONOR. HAUTE AND HOT.” —Justin

The whole thing does amazing with only three colors. We’ve noticed the trend of black and white + one color, but I mean hey. It’s working so far.

Damn those pants sit low. No wonder literally all of you wear belts.

The leather jacket? The studs and harness? Bless. Justin calls it “the perfect blend of stylish and ‘I’ll see you tonight *wink*’”.

Kind of don’t like how the belts connect to the pants, though. It looks better in the back.

“He found a really cool jacket, but it didn’t pair with anything so he just didn’t wear anything.” —Jo

Honestly though? We’ve all made fun of Mammon for having big hoe energy in his outfits, but like, he knew he had wings and planned his outfit to accommodate for that. He’s the only one who didn’t cut holes in his outfit. Maybe Mammon was the smallest hoe after all.

Also if there’s a motif it repeats elsewhere, like the studs and diamonds on his jacket and pants. Did he and Lucifer have a “tastefully putting diamonds on my outfit” battle? Because Mammon definitely won.

One of the charms broke off the belt loop and he never bothered to replace it, and honestly thank god there isn’t two of those anymore.

Torn between wishing the boots were tighter to match the rest of the outfit and saying “yoooo they’re open in the back!!!”

Ok so so far we’ve said generally only good things, but there is one major issue with the design: Its gravity. Everything points down, his tattoos, the diamonds, even his wings. The center of gravity in the image is his shoes. Bitch loved his shoes so much he made his whole outfit point to them.

Either way this was universally considered the best and I mourn Justin who doesn’t know how far Mammon’s standards are gonna fall from here.

Leviathan:

Diagonal zipper

“Levi what the fuck.” —Megan

He looks like an e-boy.

Honestly it looks like he borrowed something from Justin’s wardrobe for Pride but he didn’t know how to put it on.

APPARENTLY the biggest hoe. Abs that he shouldn’t have coming through a mesh t-shirt. I thought Mammon’s pants were low, but Levi’s whole-ass ass is out. Ok Levi, I see you.

The shirt pattern is good but he probably leaves it partially unzipped because it’d look really dumb fully closed.

Justin loves the funky pants pattern and Jo likes the pants but not with the outfit. It’s because the devs were too coward to give him a thick tail base so his pants had to fill that role by sharing the pattern.

The shoes are good, and not just because they incited Justin’s deep-set hatred for Christian Louboutin and his uncomfortable red-bottom shoes.

Justin is offended that he’s hiding his suspenders; either show them completely or not at all, no in between. Jo’s not fully convinced it isn’t just one suspender. What are his suspenders doing? What are they attached to? Are they holding anything up? Apparently not.

Jo pointed out that if you squint the belt on his waist looks like fangs and the orange dots on his sleeves looks like eyes so it’s like theres a snake head on his outfit. Cute!

The gloves are throwing us off though. Why is Levi of all other brothers need gloves? I bet he has sweaty hands.

Ok really, does his sweater unzip all the way into two pieces? Or does it hang by that tiny thread underneath the tail hole? There’s even a button, just in case.

Can’t believe this antler-sporting, suspender-wasting nerd went diagonal zipper on us because we beat him at a trivia game. Should have just zipped his hood.

Satan:

HONEY.

“I hate everything about this.” —Megan

First of all, he’s straight up wearing Lucifer’s casual shirt. Does it only button down the back? Can he take it off?

Then he spilled bleach on his pants. Like I get what they were going for but with the white on black that is literally just bleach stains.

Incredibly differing opinions on the belt. He got it in the cowboy department. Justin adores it. Jo despises it.

And are those… athletic slip ons?

And now the elephant in the room. The ribcage made of ribbons. The ribboncage. The idea is great! I love that they gave him a skeletal theme without throwing him into a Hot Topic.

But if you take the ribboncage and feather boa off he’s literally just wearing a dress shirt and some nice jeans. And that’s the problem with Satan’s demon form. Not that it looks goofy. It’s that they took risks but then hid all the risks behind business casual.

Also Megan said that the back of the ribbons look like a rock climbing harness. Someone (probably Justin) said the front reminds them of the underbelly of a green cockroach. Ew.

The feather boa would look better if it was over something you wouldn’t literally wear at the office. (And also didn’t look so much like worm on a string.)

“He is going to Dragcon 2020 and is definitely going to take a picture and ask to lip sync, but accidentally start beef with Acid Betty.” —Justin

On a good note, loving how the tail fades to highly radioactive green. Feels dangerous. Megan pointed out that it’s a pretty wimpy tail, though. Jo enjoys the self-conscious posture it expresses.

That’s basically the only good thing we have to say, though.

I just????

Merry Christmas.

Asmodeus:

The kanji on the picture is just saying that the coattail is the same on both sides.

Ok now with that out of the way, HONEY.

I’m sure he says that to others but I hope he says it to himself too when he looks in the mirror.

Starting with the good. The wings? Adorable. The heart-shaped hole to accommodate them? Adorable. One of the only good adjustments.

And I love that the tips of his horns look venomous, like a scorpion tail!

We love a good floral design and a good twin tailcoat.

But once again, the shirt just has too much going on. The flowers. The buttons. The brick-pattern stitching. The brooch. The long collar. The fact that if he closed the last button it’d end in a diamond covering his crotch. Sometimes less is more, Asmo.

That scorpion brooch is the best thing to ever grace my computer screen and it shouldn’t have to share the spotlight with the rest of his shirt. It should have wrapped around his arm and been paired with some more jewelry. Then he could have ditched those giant cuffs.

The bleeding heart tattoos are a really good idea! But they should have been angled better and not like someone else put them on at the roller rink. And maybe they shouldn’t have been outlined in pink. Those aren’t tattoos, those are gaping holes in his arm. Is he ok.

I’ve been avoiding the pants, but. The pants.

“Oh dear god. Oh no that’s… I thought you were a designer…” —Jo

One side is buckled the ENTIRE way down, and then the other side is COMPLETELY plain. It’s too extreme on both ends. It should have been only half a leg of buckles. Not whatever this is. I still don’t think he can bend that leg.

The shoes are ok but they COULD have been a stiletto so.

Jo is DONE with these demons’ inability to wear socks.

We expected better from you, Asmo. I hope you have to fasten all those buckles every morning as retribution.

Beelzebub:

He said “how many belts can I wear on one outfit.”

Justin said it’s like Barry B. Benson and Post Malone had a beautiful baby boy, and Obey Me! is cancelled for creating a sequence of events that could lead to me hearing that with my own two ears.

The jacket? Stunning. “It’s steampunk mixed with Jack Sparrow, mixed with Billie Joe Armstrong,” says Justin. It’s got puffy sleeves! And there’s objectively too much going on with the jacket, but since it’s a leather jacket I can forgive it. Justin and Jo can’t.

I’m not sure why they keep giving him weird jacket collars but I prefer belt number 9 to fur.

“Why is it bucked in the back? Couldn’t it have just been a jacket?” —Megan

Good that the black tank isn’t only black, but he has so little color on his outfit that it would have been nice for it and the matching pattern on his boots to have been a color besides gray.

I don’t mind the belts down the leg because they’re not too in your face. Jo wants the white belt to be thinner. Justin wants him to just pick one and go with it.

Poor Beel, he can’t do his lil thigh pat pose without his right hand being assaulted by studs and that bear trap-shaped buckle.

Justin feels like the cowboy boots are too wide up top and it’s probably because they’re FAKE cowboy boots. I don’t know why he didn’t just get cowboy boots instead of putting fake coverings over his dress shoes.

Can’t fault the twin belt, though. And the wing hole isn’t terrible.

Idk I guess. They knew what they wanted to do at least.

That seems to be the pattern with Beel: they know what they want to do, but something weird happens in the middle of it.

Belphegor:

“I don’t know which Teletubby let their son go through the it’s just a phase mom phase, but they should be ashamed.” —Justin

A toddler who just learned how to cut holes in paper got a hold of his hoodie.

Is it a hoodie? A jacket? A poncho? The cow print actually isn’t terrible. At least it had the decency to be unique in its spotting. And the actual presence of blue is very appreciated.

On the topic of colors, Jo is calling the devs out on their apparent fear of color. “Put the pink elsewhere, cowards,” they say.

We actually don’t hate the horseshoe, and using it for the belt buckles is actually really clever. Even if 75% of them are doing literally nothing. Feel like he didn’t need that many. Could do without the bottom one, maybe even bottom two.

There’s a teeeeny tiny cowbell on the back? Megan apparently finds that VERY important. Why do they go to such great lengths to remind us that Belphie’s a cow? Beel doesn’t rub his hands together 24/7. Mammon doesn’t even get bird wings.

Just like Satan spilled bleach, Belphie has tar pants.

It’s nice to see a change in pant style, but. Am I biased because I hate harem pants? Maybe. Are these harem pants too short on him? Yes. Maybe they were supposed to be parachute capris? But it just looks he outgrew them too fast and Lucifer won’t buy him new pants yet. At least they look comfy.

If he puts his keys in those pockets will his pants fall down? Probably. That’s a problem considering his are the only pants that look like they could hold any keys.

The shoes are fine. I can enjoy a high topped sneaker. …Is that a security tag? Did he steal his shoes. Belphie stole his shoes.

On the tiny tail hole, I appreciate that Belphie went for modesty. But I hope it’s impossible to wear these outfits outside of demon form because I don’t want him walking around with a tiny hole right above his ass.

Honestly he doesn’t even look like a demon? He just looks like… a cow.

There’s one more aspect of their demon forms that I didn’t feel comfortable forcing into a smaller space than it deserved: Silhouettes. Jo puts a lot of weight on silhouettes and their role in character design. Is it dynamic? Is it recognizable? Jo ranked them as such:

1. Lucifer: 9/10. Care and effort were put into this design and it shows. 2. Mammon: 7/10. Points deducted for most of it being form fitting but otherwise still manages to get a passing grade. 3 (tied). Beelzebub: 5/10. His wings have actual mass but his horns being mostly hidden by his head reduce his score. 3 (tied). Belphegor: 5/10. Evens out since his clothes aren’t as form fitting as the others but they also kind of turn him into a blob. 5. Asmodeus: 4/10, and only because he’s got multiple wings and that his tailcoat breaks up the bottom half. 6. Satan: 3/10, for the fact HIS BOA carries most of the work in altering his silhouette. 7. Leviathan: 2/10. The tail and horns prevent this from being a total flop.

Our (surprisingly unanimous!) ranking of their outfits (not counting Megan her opinions deviated) were:

Mammon

Lucifer

Leviathan

Belphegor

Beelzebub

Asmodeus

Satan

In conclusion, any M-rated fic that doesn’t have it take demon Satan 20 minutes to take off his shirt is too unrealistic.

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fumiko-matsubara · 3 years

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Kaho Tsuchiya Masterlist

Okay, so finally a proper introduction to my daughter. Her name is Kaho Tsuchiya and she's a very minor character (one-time antagonist) of AssClass that had only appeared in the manga, which was the 2-chapter rainy season arc that gave focus on Maehara, who was her ex-boyfriend.

The anime adaptation completely omitted this arc, including Kaho herself, likely due to how actually brutal the retaliation Class 3-E had done to her and Seo.

Other than those 2 chapters, Kaho had since then only made 2 cameos throughout the manga with a significant gap. Hence, she's easily forgettable and the only ones who does remember normally despises her.

Except for me of course because I overanalyze shit to the point that I managed to justify every single bit of her actions in those two chapters. Now I adopted her and is currently gatekeeping her from any more villainized writing in the fandom 😁

Tsuchiya Kaho's Character Profile (Target On-verse)

Headcanon List

How Kaho managed to enroll to Kawadate High

Bonus: ChiHo (Chiba x Kaho) Masterlist

Meta

Kaho and Seo's borderline abusive relationship (by Zaina)

How Kaho should've been written instead

Happy Kaho Day (Zaina's post) + My ranting

This scene in the Retaliation Arc

The Retaliation arc pissed me off to no end - Class 3E and Koro are at fault

A canon-compliant timeline of the whole messy Kaho + Maehara + Seo situation

Art

Fumiko's Colour Palette Selection

Tsuchiya Kaho Portrait (2022 Update)

Tsuchiya Kaho Anime Design Reference Sheet (Coloured and Line Art)

Anime screenshots (pt 1)

Anime screenshot (pt 2)

A specific art style for Kaho alone (pt 1) + canon rants in the tags

A specific art style for Kaho alone (pt 2)

Adult Kaho Design

Senior High school Design

Tower of God AU Design

Blushy Kaho

Masquerade Outfit

Beige Outfit

Yellow Outfit

Red Outfit

Green Outfit

Christmas Sweater

A can of coke

Butterfly Fairy Kaho

I love my girls 2021 doodle

Just Another Sketch

F2U Bases

Coloured Manga Panel

Kaho is immune to akumatization (Miraculous Ladybug AU Headcanon)

Happy Kaho Day: 2020 , 2021 , 2022 , 2023

Writing

April 05, 2014 - 20:35

May 03, 2014 - 19:13

September 27, 2014 ー 18:29

November 2014 ー 17:35

Expectations and Fantasies

#assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #tsuchiya kaho #kaho tsuchiya #masterlist #my art #my writing #my ideas

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hopeshoodie · 3 years

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Random headcanons I have about the islanders that don’t belong anywhere

Camilo watches a TON of anime. Like… To the point where it’s the only entertainment media he consumes. He also has zero shame about it/doesn’t know that people think it’s cringey

Gary has a quote from Ron Swanson or Michael Scott (specifically the ‘“you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take” -Wayne Gretzky -Michael Scott’) on his Tinder profile

Seb likes big titty goth girls and milfs, exclusively. He and Viv vibe because she has a really patronizing way of treating him (and uh… tibbies *pleading emoji*). The big vampire lady from Resident Evil? He’s in love and honestly the same.

Shannon has horrible spring allergies. Like ‘stay inside with an air filter, can’t set foot in a park’ allergies. Like ‘eyes swell shut welcome to sinus hell’ kind of allergies.

Shannon is bi and loves going to strip clubs. That’s like… Her go-to Friday night plan. She doesn’t buy private dances very often, and prefers to just spend all her cash on the different girls working the floor and doing sets. Real Sassy from Black Ink vibes.

When doing drugs or the nasty, Yasmin has to turn little Yasmin around or cover her eyes.

Lily bites her fingernails down to the point of them bleeding

Priya despises ballet flats (she loudly will declare that they’re bad for your feet, stinky, and above all else ugly) and doesn’t own a single pair. She insists that any outfit that can be paired with flats look better with heels, sandals, or boots. She assumes everyone else shares this belief and will lowkey scoff (or at the very least be surprised) at her besties for wearing them. She’d never make fun of someone, but she just takes it for a matter of fact that everyone dislikes flats.

Priya loves a good bubble bath and definitely posts aesthetic bath pictures of her bath table, candles, bath bomb/salts/mixes, music, etc.

Priya collects all her spare change throughout the year and puts it into a glass jar, and around christmas time she finds someone in need and gives it to them. It’s usually like $400-$600 in change. After she realizes how inconvenient giving change is, she still collects change but at the end of the year brings it to a bank to exchange for bills.

I am in love with Priya.

Lucas is REALLY good at roller skating. He’ll never bring it up, or ask to go unprompted. So I’m picturing MC and him dating/married, going to a nephew/niece’s birthday party at the roller rink, and out of nowhere Lucas is revealed to be this graceful and masterful skater. Maybe it was from playing hockey growing up or maybe he’s born with it.

Lucas coped really poorly with all the attention in the wake of Love Island. He didn’t really consider how often people would recognize him or how much fans would seek him out to proposition him. Unless he won with MC and stays with her, he regrets going on the show (that is until 20 years later when he reconnects with Henrik and they start dating).

Noah has an amazing singing voice. It’s deep, and he has a good ear for harmonies.

Rahim grew up with his family taking him to the gun range, so he knows how to handle a weapon. He’s very knowledgeable about makes, models, and safety, and probably owns at the very least a rifle and a handgun.

Rahim has a TERRIBLE yoda impression that he thinks is genuinely good.

Talia has a terrible Bill Hader impression that she knows is awful. She does it frequently to annoy her friends. In general, her sense of humor is just about being annoying- puns, bad impressions, impulsive physical comedy, all done with both irony and earnestness.

Rohan goes through a jewelry phase where he accessorizes every outfit with some kind of necklace (often multiple), and his go-to look is some kind of sweater with a silver necklace over it. Definitely has one ear pierced, if not both.

Genevieve is lowkey addicted to reality tv- her favorites are Real Housewives and any kind of cooking competition- and that’s what inspired her to sign up for LITG.

Marisol gives amazing massages. It’s a point of pride for her. She’ll go off on people trying to use lotion instead of oil and will always slyly suggest massages in the bedroom.

Jake doesn’t cook a lot of spicy foods, but being able to eat extremely spicy things is a huge point of pride for him. He would ABSOLUTELY go on Hot Ones after Love Island, and that would be the only talk show esque interview he’s willing to do.

Hannah hate hate HATES those foam things they put between your toes when you get a pedicure.

#litg #headcanons

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gundamcalibarney · 3 years

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Steam team casual clothes headcanons to follow up to the mainland gang one

below the readmore

Thomas:

-Tends to lean towards shirts and cargo shorts. Thomas wears knee high socks during colder weather.

-He likes hats, usually newsboy hats and flat caps. Sometimes he’ll steal hats from others.

-Thomas Loathes jeans, dress pants and cargo pants are okay because he’s worn those while working but he can’t Stand jeans.

-Likes to wear bracelets, he even made ones for close friends (the Steam Team and a few engines in the Mainland).

-Everything he wears is blue, grey is almost always an accent colour (if the gold whistle and bracelets don’t count).

Edward:

-Turtleneck and blazer. He’ll sometimes wear dress pants or cargo shorts.

-Mainly wears long sleeved clothes like dress shirts,sweaters,sweatshirts,and as previously said, turtlenecks.

-His casual outfit is the only other time he wears the blue and purple striped scarf, the other time is winter.

-Wears suspenders of varying colours and patterns. Edward will wear sunglasses if

-Mainly wears cool colours, he leans to blue,purple,and teals.

Henry:

-If it has flowers/is plant themed then he’ll most likely wear it.

-He’ll sometimes accessorise himself with floral related accessories with a bit of help from James. It’s mostly just like, a flower headpiece.

-Sometimes he’ll wear video game shirts.

-Leg wear varies, sometimes he’ll wear cargo pants/shorts, sometimes jeans, sometimes dress pants. Mostly depends n the mood.

Gordon:

-Most comfortable with anything that makes him look professional. He’s mostly a semi-formal kind of guy so it’s very rare to see him wear informal clothing.

-Likes wearing watches, he’d rather be on time than spend precious time ‘having fun’.

-Someone gave him a Hawaiian shirt as a gift, he has only worn it on what he deems as “important occasions.”

-Only wears hoodies if he’s forced to. He currently has two of them, an elephant one and a Flying Scotsman one (courtesy of his brother giving it to him on Christmas).

-Prefers wearing grey as well as darker shades of blue.

James:

-Will wear anything that makes him look good, wether it’s trendy or not. He helps Rosie with her outfits from time to time.

-Prefers wearing turtlenecks, coats seem to vary. He also really likes denim clothing as well, he somewhat shares Gordon’s semi-formal vibe but James is more carefree with his choices.

-Despite pink being his undercoat, he will Proudly wear the colour.

-He likes waistcoats but he despises Sweater vests, he doesn’t understand Why anyone would like to wear them.

-James refuses to wear blue or any shade of it. He likes reds and pinks and will mix them together from time to time.

Percy:

-Prefers t-shirts over the majority’s dress shirt. Like some others he prefers more informal clothing.

-For some reason a lot of his clothes are bug themed, he sometimes wears bug themed accessories (like antennae headbands).

-Really likes wearing stripes, something he got from Toby.

-The only one who wears hoodies on and off work, he’ll mainly wear them during colder days.

-Wears Lighter shades of green, tends to mix brown and light yellow to his clothes.

Toby:

-Has mostly worn turtleneck sweaters. Toby makes one for the others if he has the time.

-Toby likes wearing warm and fluffy clothing, he somehow gets cold Very easily so he wears a Lot on winter (“bitter cold bitter cold.”)

-Wears striped blazers and in general he likes wearing stripes, this rubbed off on Percy.

-Likes to wear bells, usually bell necklaces and clip on belt bells.

-Autumn colours, mostly brown,orange,and red. Sometimes yellow.

Emily:

-Likes being fancy, her outfits can usually pass off for semi-formal. Mostly consisting of dress shirts and dress pants, she likes wearing heels because she likes feeling tall.

-Usually wears tights or pants, as much as she likes the looks of dresses, she doesn’t see herself wearing one. Mostly because she thinks that she doesn’t look good in one. It’s the same story for skirts and shorts.

-Some of Emily’s outfits look like she came straight from the Victorian era.

-Like her brother, she likes to adorn herself in jewellery though unlike her brother she’s more minimalistic with it. The most she’ll do is get a necklace and call it a day.

-Emily is a fan of darker colours, usually dark greens.

Ryan:

-Y’know how necklaces with gemstones exist? Yeah he’ll vibe with those.

-Like Gordon he goes semi-formal, but his vibe is more like “I wanna look like a fancy magician :D”, this is also his reasoning for wearing gloves,boots,and multiple belts.

-Wears long coats because it looks cool, sometimes he borrows from his relatives. Some of his clothes are hand me downs from his surviving sibling N2, Riley.

-Also likes wearing shirts with animals, he really likes cats.

-Likes the colour purple, he’ll mix things up from time to time with blues,reds,and greens.

Rosie:

-Likes to experiment with her outfits, she’ll sometimes combine outfits if she’s feeling it. Rosie will also help others alongside James.

-Despises heels, she’s like “how the Fuck do you walk in those!?”.

-Her fashion sense varies, sometimes she’ll look like a punk rocker and the next she’ll look like she’ll look like she came straight from the 60s. Rosie really likes overalls and suspenders and has used them in her outfit combos.

-The only consistent thing is her shoes, which are always boots.

-Rosie’s colour palette varies but she usually sticks to warm colours, reds and various shades of pink.

#corejo talks #ttte #thomas the tank engine #golden whistle au #pretty short because i’m short on ideas

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chelsfic · 4 years

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Together Alone - Request: Horacio Carrillo x Brazilian Reader, Narcos fanfic

A/N: This fic is a response to a request by @poeedamerons who asked for a Horacio x Brazilian Reader story. I really hope you like this. I got a little swept away and…ugh if you don’t like it can you just pretend that you do? Thanks! I’m tender like a little shrimp or something…

This fic jumps back and forth in time, starts out in the present and then flashes to memories of the reader’s relationship with Horacio. It’s probably confusing lol.

Warnings: light smut (so mild, so soft, hardly there)

***

“…A clandestine life shared with a man who was never completely hers, and in which they often knew the sudden explosion of happiness, did not seem to her a condition to be despised.” (Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez)

Horacio comes to you in the late hours, when the darkness on the streets of Medellín is just starting to recede with the coming dawn. He’s still dressed in his uniform and you widen your eyes at him in furious admonition, hurrying him inside before anyone can see the silver gleaming on his chest, the damning badge that stands between you always.

You round on him in the front hallway of your tiny apartment, speaking in a whisper, “Meu deus! What are you thinking, Horacio? What if someone saw you?”

It takes you a minute to calm down, to steady your frenetic heartbeat enough that you notice the way he’s standing rigid, frozen in place–but his hands are shaking.

“Meu coração,” your voice wavers. “What is it?”

It’s dark inside your apartment. Horacio’s face is in shadow. You watch the lines of his broad shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

“Pablo Escobar is dead.”

Your knees suddenly can’t support you and you fall back, leaning your weight against the wall, a hand to your chest. You feel for Horacio–you know what an enormous relief of his burden this must be. But you have to ask one thing first.

“And…my brother?”

Horacio closes his eyes, a muscle ticks in his jaw, he answers you in that gravelly-yet-soft voice you’ve grown to love, “Arrested, mi amor. He’s in custody. He’s safe.”

***

You meet Horacio Carrillo years earlier. Back when everything still feels simple, small, harmless.

Your brother convinces you to come with him to Colombia, to Medellín: the heart of his new partner’s business. You’ve lived in Brazil your entire life, under the loving–if controlling–watch of your father. When Enzo tells you his plan: to get you into university, for both of you to live the lives you deserve far away from your overbearing father–well, you let yourself believe him even if you’ve never approved of what he gets up to out in the jungle. Enzo is your twin, though everyone who knows you always exclaims over your polar differences. You are the straight-laced bookworm. Enzo is the go-getter, the charmer, the hustler. As his twin you would think you’d be immune to his charm but–his enthusiasm is infectious.

And that’s what leads you here, to the moment you meet your future lover. Lined up with three others in a dark alleyway, watching the intimidating police colonel pace back and forth before you, deciding your fate.

“So…” his voice is gravelly but lighter than you would have imagined. Somehow it only adds to the calm, controlled violence that seems to lurk beneath the surface of his too-tight uniform shirt. “We know your vehicle was seen camped down the street from the roadblock. We know you tipped off Pablo’s sicarios and caused me and my men to waste our time. What we don’t know is…which one of you is smart enough to see you’re on the losing side?”

Your Spanish has improved exponentially during your months in this country but you still find yourself focusing with unusual intensity in order to parse the Colonel’s words. Sweat breaks out on the back of your neck and you shift nervously from foot to foot. You’re going to kill Enzo. He said he’d send someone to pick you up when your study group ran late–he didn’t tell you he was sending criminals.

The Colonel goes down the line, questioning each of you. By the time he reaches you he’s sent the others away in handcuffs. They refused to cooperate. Now it’s just you and he, alone except for the officer stationed at the entrance to the alley.

His eyes scan your outfit. You’re wearing blue jeans and a nice sweater your father gave you last Christmas. He narrows his eyes as he addresses you, “You’re different from the others…”

How much should you say? Caralho! Enzo is such an idiot. He’s never prepared you for something like this.

Well, the truth then. You’re a terrible liar…

“I don’t really…know them, sir,” you try to sound respectful but your eyes are locked onto the holstered gun at his side. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“Maybe,” he answers breezily. “Or maybe you can help me. You don’t know these people? How did you end up in a car with them?”

Meu Deus.

“My…friend sent them to pick me up from school. I’m a student, sir. I don’t know anything about a roadblock or–”

“I believe you,” he interrupts, putting his hands in his pockets and observing you with a look of cautious interest. “Tell me about you friend.”

***

“He’s really safe?”

You’ve dreamed of this for so long. The end of lying, of secrecy, of fear. Enzo will think it a betrayal, but at least he’ll be alive to hate you. Pablo was a madman by the end. And your brother had no more friends left. There was no other way.

Horacio comes to you, stepping into your arms and letting his forehead drop to lean against yours, “Really, Y/N. It’s finally over.”

You turn your head toward his, just a fraction of an inch, an invitation. Horacio slides into the kiss like he’s coming home. His soft lips caress against yours, his tongue flicking out to trace the line of your mouth, delving inside and brushing against your own. Once his kisses felt forbidden, dangerous. Now kissing Horacio feels like the most natural thing in the world.

***

The first time he kisses you is the first time he asks you to wear a wire.

You’ve given Carrillo enough solid tips for him to trust you as an informant. As an informant, mind you. Colonel Carrillo doesn’t fully trust anyone. The deal is you’ll help him. But you can’t give up your brother. Deep down you know that one day you’ll have to make a choice. A choice to save your brother by betraying him. But it’s not that day yet.

“I brought something for you,” Carrillo says, warming his hands on the mug of coffee you’ve provided. He’s sitting at the little kitchen table in your apartment. Street clothes. No gun. It’s still risky but better than meeting in public.

You sit down across from him with your own cup of coffee and you regard him with a surprised smile, “Really?”

Carrillo’s lips quirk into a sardonic grin as he pulls out the wire and transmitter, placing them on the table between you.

“Next time I’ll bring flowers,” he jokes.

You swallow against your suddenly dry throat, “I thought we already discussed this.”

Carrillo reaches across the table and takes your hand in his. His calloused fingers rub soothing circles into your skin and he looks into your eyes with that intensity with which you’ve grown so familiar. This man is dedicated to his mission, some might even say obsessed. You wonder what would happen if you ever came between him and his goals. The thought sends a tiny shiver down your spine.

“Look. I know you’re nervous. But nothing is going to happen to you, okay? I’ll show you how to put it on so no one will notice. This party you told me about? You said you think Escobar might even be there? This is a chance we can’t pass up. I need you, Y/N.”

You inhale sharply. Those words–I need you–his hand holding yours. You look into his molten gaze and try to read this mercurial man. Does he know how you think of him? Over the months of working for him, slowly earning his grudging trust, living together in the loneliness of your secret–you’re falling in love with him. And if he’s using that to get you to do this…

“Alright,” you answer, your voice cracking. “What do I do?”

You show him the summer dress you’re planning to wear to the barbecue. It’s floral, sleeveless, with a diaphanous bell skirt and a modest knee-length hemline. He regards it critically.

“Do you have a sweater you can wear over it?” he murmurs, fingering the thin fabric.

You shake your head and reply with nervous irritation, “No! That will be suspicious, Horacio! It’s the middle of the Summer. It will be hot out…”

It’s the first time you’ve used his given name, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His brow is knit with concentration.

“It will work, you’ll just need to hide the transmitter some place…” he coughs and actually looks away with the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

If Carrillo’s uncomfortable it’s nothing to your mortification. You grab the wire from his hands and march furiously into your bathroom.

“Foda-se,” you grumble under your breath. Fuck it. This can’t get any more awkward right?

You emerge from the bathroom a few moments later, transmitter nestled securely in your biggest, granniest panties. The wire is taped across your torso, as Carrillo instructed, with the tiny microphone hidden worryingly close to the neckline of the dress.

You look up at Carrillo, anxiety rolling off of you in waves, “Are you sure no one will notice?”

Carrillo doesn’t respond right away. His eyes are glued to the pleasing swell of your curves beneath the thin fabric of the dress. It’s the first time he’s shown any kind of weakness to your femininity and you preen a little at the thought–even if you’re still quaking with worry over wearing a wire in the presence of violent criminals. That sobering thought is enough to flood you with fear once more and you actually tremble.

“H-Horacio? They won’t be able to notice?” you repeat.

Carrillo takes a step forward. He adjusts the neckline of your dress, letting his fingers just skim along the path of the wire, between your breasts, over the soft curve of your belly. Your lips part and you release a silent gasp at his touch. He’s watching you with those intense eyes again.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says, his voice a soft, rasping whisper in the silence of your apartment.

“But you can’t promise–”

Your words are cut short when he takes you by the shoulders and plants a kiss on your lips. He’s warm and soft and firm against you. His kiss is surprising. He’s tender and tentative, pressing a few soft pecks to your full lips before allowing himself to deepen the kiss and dart out his tongue. You melt into him, hanging limp in his hands. If this is manipulation–if he’s doing this to claim your loyalty so he can complete his mission–well…you don’t care.

***

You fall into bed. Articles of clothing discarded like wilted flower petals on your path to the bedroom. Horacio still wears the cooled sweat of the chase on his skin, his muscles ache and he’s more exhausted than he’s ever felt. But he needs this. He needs to anchor himself in your body, your gentle love, to remind himself why. Why he’s fought and schemed and betrayed his morals for years. For his country, yes. For the people, yes. The victims, of course. But also–also for this moment of quiet, soft surrender, when he can finally take you as his own for all the world to know.

“Querido,” you sigh into his lips. You lay your hands on his shaking shoulders, “Be with me now, amor. Shhhh.”

“I need you now,” he responds in a husky voice that’s barely controlled. “Right now.”

“You have me, Horacio.”

And he does.

***

Carrillo never tells you if he gleans anything useful from the recording that you risked your life to obtain at your brother’s party. He kisses you, sends you out to risk your life, and then you don’t hear from him for weeks. Living this double life is lonely and Carrillo–your handler as he calls himself–is the only person in whom you can confide. But he’s too busy enacting whatever insane mission your intel has enabled. You just pray it doesn’t get him killed. Or Enzo. Or you.

Tonight you’re going to forget about all that. You’re out with friends, dancing, drinking, and acting as if you don’t have the weight of the world on your shoulders for once. It feels good, although you can’t help but think about what it would feel like to be this carefree and open with Horacio. Horacio, your brother’s enemy…your boss…the man with whom you can’t be seen in public without fearing for your secret–your life. What would it be like to dance with him?

As if you’ve manifested him with your thoughts, Carrillo appears at the bar, his eyes trained on you with scorching intensity. You’re caught in his gaze, your hips gyrating to the music, your dance partner’s hands skimming over your waist even as you broadcast your yearning, your desire, to the man across the room.

You’re unsurprised to find Carrillo lurking in the shadows outside your apartment door when you return home later that night. You’d spent hours dancing and watching him, feeling emboldened by the distance between you and the crowded room. Now it’s just the two of you, hurrying into the sanctuary of your apartment, together and alone once again. He looms over you in the dark entryway. The fact of his large, powerful body is impossible to ignore. You feel yourself drawn to him like the sea to the shore, aching and rocking to meet with him in a crash like the waves breaking on the sand.

“When I saw you with that guy tonight…” Horacio grumbles, backing you up against the wall and setting his hands on your hips–claiming you in the places your dance partner had touched.

“I know,” you whisper, letting your own hands trace up the solid muscles of his belly, his chest. “I wanted to be dancing with you.”

He looks into your eyes, he doesn’t need to say the words–you can’t dance together. You can’t go to dinner or get drinks or even take a walk together. If anyone saw you, the sister of one of Pablo Escobar’s most trusted associates, consorting with Colonel Horacio Carrillo of the Colombian National Police…well.

But here in the quiet darkness of your apartment you can have him for your own.

“I want you, Horacio. I know we can’t be together but…”

Your words unleash him. He smashes his lips into yours, capturing you in a fierce, bruising kiss. Horacio wants you too. He wants you for his own. Wants to take you out dancing and show you off to his friends. But he can’t. Not until this is all over. For now, all he has is this. So he’ll claim you, mark you with his body, his hands, his lips. And one day–one day…

You make love in your bed, in the soft light of the street lights filtering in through the window blinds. Horacio is somehow gentle and rough, fast and slow. He loves you thoroughly with a reverence and a dedication to your pleasure that makes you want to weep. But he is also intent on leaving every mark he can on your skin. You have bruises on your hips and the red blemishes of kisses and bites on your shoulders and breasts. When it’s over you lay in his arms, shaking and clinging to him, afraid to let him go because you know when he leaves this place he walks out into danger.

“I wish I could keep you, meu coração,” you whisper, the words dancing over his naked chest.

He heaves a sigh and tightens his arms around you, “Me too, mi corazón.”

***

When Horacio enters you it’s like it was the first time. Gentle and rough, urgent and languid, every contradiction that lives in the heart of your messed up relationship, all at once. You feel a bubble of happiness expand inside you and you’re terrified. Because you’ve spent the last two years quelling your hopes, quieting your foolish wants. You’ve spent your whole time with this wonderful, brave, beautiful man knowing in your heart that he can’t truly be yours. Not while his enemy lives.

And now? On the night that he comes to you with the news that it’s all over, that you can finally rest, you can be together–for real? You’re scared. Scared that maybe none of this is real. Maybe he only loved you because of what you were to him: a secret key to unlock his enemy’s weaknesses. What are you now? What can you offer this man?

Horacio moves over you, rocking his hips against yours, sighing your name as he drops kisses to your forehead.

“Mi amor,” he cries, his release quivering inside you as he drops his head into the crook of your neck. “I love you.”

You turn your head to watch him. His eyes have already drifted shut and his breathing is evening out. He’s utterly unguarded and comfortable in this place you’ve created together. As you watch him fall asleep you let your hand drift down to press against your lower stomach and the secret inside that you’ve kept for ten weeks. You imagine you can feel the little one shifting inside you, although it’s far too soon for that.

Your lips curl into a hopeful smile as you think about the world your child will inherit thanks to the bravery of its father…and mother.

Tag List:

@lockedoutofmyotherblog @1zashreena1 @lannister-slings-and-arrows @glowingpena @flower-petal-blooming @symbiont13 @pullthedamnlever @sparrows-books @joalsglasses @ishqinbbc @pre-schoolervengance @skys-luce-stellare @popculturepriestess @nolongertwo @ughwhyareyoulikethist @squidlywiddly87 @damndamer0n @xboxdudett @khicks3

#horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo imagine #maurice compte #request #chelsfic

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buckysrighthanddoll · 4 years

Text

Christmas Time

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, cheesy and sappy bullshit

This was Steve’s first Christmas in a very, very long time. Getting into the spirit was hard, but dammit, he had you there to help him.

You were assigned to help Steve adjust to the new world. Everything from phones to modern slang and even helping him pick out clothing. You were a bridge between his old self and his future self, and he appreciated you like nothing else. Kindness and sarcasm were your strengths, and beauty was just the icing on top--it was easy for him to fall for you.

“Steve, I swear to God, just put the sweater on,” You groaned, tossing the green sweater back at him. He goes to complain, only to be cut off. “It’s your first Christmas since the war, just let yourself relax and enjoy it, please,” You begged him. He looked at your puppy eyes, and he couldn’t help but give in.

He changes into the green sweater, which was one you picked out for him. He didn’t despise the thing, but he most certainly didn’t like sweaters; he was, after all, practically a human furnace. You were the opposite--always too cold, nearly shivering, and constantly sporting multiple layers.

While Steve put on his clothes, you went into the bathroom and put on your outfit. It was a simple red dress that flowed down to just above your knees--not too fancy, not too boring.

Tony insisted on a Christmas party like he usually did. Except this year, Steve was going to join it.

Steve is nervous the entire time. He hardly leaves your side as you chat with a few of the other attendees. He keeps a hand on your back and glances around, and you know that he’s looking for all escape routes and scanning the people in the room.

“Loosen up, Capsicle,” Tony says, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve turns to him and strikes up a conversation, making you smile. You knew that they didn’t get along much as of now, but the holidays made the nicest parts of people surface.

Casie, a friend of yours from work, pulls you away and gets you to the open bar. She orders you a glass of champagne and you both catch up on things that you both had missed.

“So, how’s Steve adjusting?” She asks you, taking a small sip from her glass.

“He’s doing well,” You responded, mimicking her actions. “I mean, it gets rough at times, but he pushes through--”

“He likes you, you know,” She says, cutting you off. You let out a laugh in protest, and she speaks again. “It may not be the 40s anymore, but when someone’s into you, it’s always obvious.”

“Steve’s polite, and that’s all.”

“Nonsense,” She scoffs. “You’re into him, right?”

How could you not be? He was charming beyond belief, funnier than hell, sensitive, respectful, and attentive. Him being attractive was just the icing on top. “I mean, only a little?” You said, making it sound more like a question.

Truth be told, you were head over heels for him. You thought of yourself as a smooth and agile person who carried herself well, but you were the clumsiest son-of-a-bitch when it came to Steve Rogers.

“You should go for it,” Casie sang out. It was more than obvious that this wasn’t her first glass of the night, and not to mention that she was a lightweight.

“Yeah, right,” You scoffed, finishing your whole glass in one long drink. “He’s Captain America. He has more to worry about than his damn caretaker.”

You turned to get the bartender’s attention, and when you turned back, she was gone. You sighed, hoping that she didn’t do one of her crazy Casie-type things that always meant trouble for you.

Standing up and forgetting your drink entirely, you went to go to one of the tables to sit and relax. You chose one of the empty booths, closing your eyes for a moment before feeling a presence across from you.

“How’s Tony doing?” You asked, opening your eyes.

“He tried to have a, uh, man-to-man with me?” Steve asked, trying to find the right words to use.

You let out a laugh, knowing exactly how those kinds of talks went for Tony. “How’d you get so lucky to get out of that conversation so quickly?”

It’s his turn to laugh as the small talk died. After a couple of seconds of comfortable silence, the music changes from an upbeat Christmas song to something much slower. Frank Sinatra’s version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas boomed overhead, and judging by the look Casie was giving you, you knew immediately that this was her doing. Tony also gave Steve a look and a hand motion that said ‘go get it’. Couples gathered to dance on the floor while the single people sat down and ordered food and drinks.

“May I have this dance?” Steve asked you, catching you off guard.

You paused for a second as if you would even dare say no to this opportunity. “I’d love to,” You responded, taking his hand and standing with him. You moved to the dance floor and got closer than anticipated to him.

There was no doubt that Steve could hear your racing heart if he listened for it, heightened abilities and all. You could only hope that the music and the other people surrounding you would distract from it.

Steve looked at you with a different look than you had ever noticed before. You were used to all sorts of looks from him--he expressed himself a lot with you. You had seen looks of concern, of sadness, of frustration, of amusement. But never a look like this. You felt yourself blush under his gaze, but you didn’t look away. He was too captivating to do that.

“You wanna get some fresh air?” You asked, not being able to handle just how aware of everything you were becoming. He nods and follows you out of the room, trying to get to a balcony.

You stopped at the doorway, Steve doing the same. “The city looks beautiful right now,” Steve pointed out. You hummed in agreement. There were a few stars showing (light pollution was a bitch), the silver slice of the moon lit the sky around it slightly, but that was nothing compared to the lights that lined the streets, or the snow that covered the sidewalks and trees. “But--”

“I swear to God, Rogers, if you say something cheesy right now I just might leap off this balcony,” You laughed.

“Maybe it’s just true?” He tried. You both laughed away the awkwardness. “But, really, you look beautiful.”

You smiled over at him. “You don’t look too bad either. I think I like green on you.”

“You did pick it out, doll,” Steve shrugged. You turned to face him, still leaning on the doorframe.

“Steve, would it be crazy to say that I’m into you?” You asked.

“Only as crazy as saying that I like you, too,” He said, giving you a lopsided smile. “It’s hard not to,” He added.

He stepped toward you, glancing up at the doorway. “I think that’s a sign,” He smiled. You followed his gaze, seeing mistletoe hanging above you. You let out a breathy laugh.

“Shoot your shot, Rogers.”

So he did. He softly pressed his lips to yours, caressing your cheek while placing the other on the small of your back to bring you closer. You melted into the kiss, losing yourself in him. It was all so captivating and he engulfed you in the most comforting way. Your hand on his chest allowed you to feel his heartbeat, the proximity allowed you to smell his cologne. Every touch, every sound, everything was magnified.

The hold that Steve Rogers had on you was magical and terrifying all at once.

He broke away for air, resting his forehead against yours. He takes your hand in his and leads you away from the balcony. “Where are we going?”

“I just really want to make hot cocoa and cuddle with you right now,” He responds.

“Steve, you’re amazing,” You laughed, letting the man in front of you whisk you off of your feet.

This was Steve’s first Christmas in a very long time. And, somehow, he gets the feeling that this will be the best one he will ever have for the rest of his life.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #steve x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #one shot #fluff #holiday writing #christmas time

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nerdy-bookworm-1998 · 4 years

Text

The Ice Queen’s Secret

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: When Bucky and Y/N are stuck together in a dingy cabin during a snowstorm secrets are revealed. Words: 1201 Warnings: Angst with a fluffy ending, swearing, alcohol usage. A/N: This is a late Christmas gift for my bestie @bookscoffeeandracoons. I’m sorry that this is a few days late but I hope you like it! If you liked this please leave feedback/reblogs and consider donating to my Ko-Fi and/or Patreon, links are in my bio. If you want to be tagged in future works please send me an ask.

There were many things that Y/N loved about Christmas, specifically making chocolate chocolate-chip cookies then curling up with a large mug of hot cocoa and watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. However, this year it seemed that she would not get to indulge in her annual tradition since she was stuck in middle-of-nowhere, Maine, with the one person who despised her the most, while they waited out a freak snowstorm in a dingy little cabin with no electricity or running water.

Y/N and Bucky had been on a recon mission to gather intel on a black market smuggling ring dealing in "exotic beings", which was just a fancy way of saying they bought and sold Enhanced people to the highest bidders. Everything had gone surprisingly well, they had gotten all the info they needed to bust the bastards, and had managed to free everyone who was captured and reunite them with their loved ones. They had been on their way home when the storm had hit out of nowhere and they had been forced to take shelter in one of Shield's safehouses.

"Cheer up, princess, you should be in your element right now," Bucky's teasing Brooklyn drawl comes from where he is crouched over the cold fireplace, trying to get the carefully placed logs to light up and fill the room with warmth.

"Says the guy who literally has Winter for a name," she bites back as she rifles through her duffle bag to see what supplies they have in terms of food. She comes up with a packet of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, a slab chocolate bar, some granola bars, and a large bottle of vodka from the motherland which she carefully lays out next to her bag.

Finally, Bucky gets a fire going, bathing the room in a warm orange glow with warmth slowly seeping back into their bones like sinking into a hot bath after a long day. After carefully dividing the food into two equal piles, she nudges the one closer to Bucky as she reaches for one of the small iron rods that she always takes with her on missions. She carefully spears a marshmallow on the end and holds it above the fire to toast. Behind her, Bucky reaches for the alcohol, unscrews the cap and takes a large swig.

A few hours later and all the food was gone as well as three-quarters of the vodka. "Tell me something," Bucky says after taking another hefty drink and handing the bottle back to her.

"What would you like to know?" she asks, taking the bottle and having a drink as she stares into the dying flames.

"Why are you always such a bitch to me?" he asks, making her choke on her drink.

"Excuse me?" she asks, looking at him incredulously.

"You're always so cold and distant whenever I'm around, you're always arguing with whatever I say, when I enter the room you leave it, I can't even offer you coffee without you looking at me like I'm going to try and poison you!" Bucky exclaims, gesturing wildly.

"I'm the one who is cold and distant?! Says the guy who threatened to throw me out of a jet without a parachute and tried to poison the team against me when I first joined!" Y/N yells back, her volume almost matching that of the storm outside.

"What the hell are you talking about?! I never said anything like that to you!" he roars back.

"The key phrase being 'to me'. I heard you talking to Steve one night during my first week. You said, and I quote, "She has no place here, she's going to get one of us killed with her ineptitude, I'd rather throw her from the quinjet without a parachute than work with her!" That's when I decided that if you wouldn't even try to get to know me before making judgments like that, then why should I?" she swallows back the tears that had started building behind her eyes and takes another hefty gulp of the clear liquid.

"And the worst part of it all is that when I first got there, I was dying to be your friend. I'd heard all these great stories about how brave and wonderful you are and there was nothing I wanted more than for you to trust me and let me be your friend. Then I heard what you really thought and it shattered my heart. So I tried to move on. By the time I was there for three months, I had lost count of the number of times I had heard you talk badly of me to the rest of the team, trying to poison them against me. Every time it broke my heart a little more until I stopped caring and started expecting it..." she trails off quietly while Bucky looked like she had punched him in the gut with Mjolnir.

"Y/N," he starts quietly, "I am so sorry... I had no idea that you were listening. But regardless of that, I should have never said all of those horrible things. I was completely out of line and so, so wrong about you. I promise you, I don't think that anymore. I haven't thought that way for a long time. Ever since that mission in Spain when you saved me from that grenade launcher, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, wanting to make up for the way I treated you in the beginning. Suddenly, all the things that used to annoy the crap out of me about you, were the very things I love about you. Like how you loved every holiday, always making sure to celebrate it by decorating and making themed treats and wearing themed outfits, even if it's just a pair of printed socks and a sweater. Or how you sing and dance while you're making breakfast for everyone. Or how you eat cinnamon sugar on your french toast. Especially how you seemed to know exactly when someone is having a bad day and going out of your way to make them smile," by the end of his speech both of them are in tears as he gently tugs her towards him, holding her on his lap and cradling her face in his hands.

"I know how much I've hurt you in the past, and I know that I can never say sorry enough times or stop trying to make it up to you. But I promise you doll, I will never ever stop trying. Because you are it for me and I am absolutely, irrevocably in love with you. So, how about it, would you like to have dinner with me once we get home? And, if you don't still absolutely hate me by the end of it, will you be my best girl?" he asks softly, vulnerability shining in his eyes.

"I'd love to have dinner with you and be your best girl, Bucky," she smiles tenderly at him, turning her head to kiss his exposed wrist before gently pressing her lips against his, enfolded in the warmth of his arms and the promise of a bright future ahead.

Tags:

@mcdesij @spiderrrling @arrow-guy @interestedbystanderwrites @murdocksmartinis @gwendelerynan @here2have-fun @bookscoffeeandracoons @bambamwolf87 @loricameback @rockrchick51 @love-nakamura @baebeepeach @timelordy-fangirl2 @jewelofwinter @caramell0w @jewels2876 @ladysergeantbarnes @notawritergettingtherethough @patzammit @fanfictionjunkie1112 @lumar014 @kirstie-evans-writes @robertdowneyhiddleston @lil-lex1 @dragonrosegardens @bookgirlunicorn @farfromshawn @shadymidge @kaithezaftig @that-place-called-middle-earth

#marvel #avengers #fluff #angst #angst with a fluff ending #swearing #alcohol #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Christmas

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modernsuperhero · 6 years

Text

TINY SIDES™ USER MANUAL

“ROMAN” MODEL #0604

Thomas Sanders and Co. owns the copyright to this manual.

Use or reproduction of this manual in parts or entirety without the authorization of Thomas Sanders and Co. is prohibited.

The CREATIVITY and Princey logos are registered trademarks of Thomas Sanders and Co. Ownership of all other trademarks is attributed to their due owner.

Fic Part 1, inspired by @sanderstribute ‘s tiny sides!

BEFORE USING THE PRODUCT

SAFETY PRECAUTIONS

CAUTION

THIS UNIT IS PRONE TO SPONTANEOUS SINGING, FLIRTING REGARDLESS OF GENDER, AND TEMPER TANTRUMS. TREAD CAREFULLY.

CONTENTS

Your Tiny Side™ comes complete with the following items:

One (1) Princely mini-outfit

One (1) Christmas mini-sweater

Twelve (12) mini-roses

Two (2) mini-notebooks

Three (3) mini-pens

One (1) mini-hairbrush

One (1) regular sized Mrs. Fluffybottom™

One (1) pack of movie poster-stickers

One (1) 6”x9” Spanish-to-English dictionary

If you find one or more of these objects is missing or damaged, please visit our website at @thatsthat24 to get a replacement at no cost to you.

TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS

Unit Type: Roman

Side: Creativity

Class: Prince

Age: 28

Height: 5 in.

Place of Manufacture: Gainesville, FL

INITIAL USE AND CARE OF UNIT

Before releasing your Tiny Side™ from its box, you must choose what mode you’d like to set it to. The available modes currently are:

FLAMBOYANT - Unit’s default mode.

DAYDREAM - An excessive version of Flamboyant, but good for brainstorming. To activate, allow the unit to binge-watch cartoons and musicals.

ANXIOUS - Unit becomes insecure and jumpy, with accompanying eyeshadow to match its mood. To activate, put unit in a small area with little sunlight or keep with a VIRGIL type unit for an extended period of time.

VALENTINE - Unit becomes more romantic than usual, and speaks Spanish. For this reason, a dictionary has been provided for our non-native Spanish speakers. To activate, either flirt with the unit or have another unit flirt with it. This can occasionally spontaneously occur if another unit brings this unit out of Anxious mode. Although difficult, VIRGIL type units can do this.

PERFORMER - Unit will sing and recite plays. This is good for entertainment purposes, but not for productivity. To activate, allow your unit to listen to you sing. It will immediately join in.

If your unit gets stuck in an undesirable mode, please visit our website at @thatsthat24 for assistance.

Once setting your unit’s mode, there are certain maintenance requirements:

Unit must be fed non-dairy foods on a regular basis in proportion to the user’s own diet. Unit is lactose intolerant.

Unit will eventually require more roses.

Unit should be kept away from blades, particularly katanas that match the unit’s size.

Keep unit away from makeup, as it may get stolen.

Do not indulge in all of your unit’s whims.

Your unit may occasionally need a chill day, but may not admit it. It is important that your unit gets rest.

Your unit despises lizards, specifically komodo dragons. For the safety of your pets, please keep the unit and lizards separate.

Should your unit become melancholy and depressed, it is recommended you baby the unit until it feels better. This is a glitch that the company is currently working to remove.

Do not lie to this unit, as it will believe you regardless of the lies’ improbability.

UNIT TYPE INTERACTIONS

LOGAN type - The LOGAN type unit will likely find much of your unit’s actions frivolous. If your unit is in Daydream mode, the LOGAN type unit will likely attempt to leave. If your unit is in Anxious mode, the LOGAN type unit may attempt to tend to the root cause of your unit’s distress. If your unit is in Valentine mode, the LOGAN type unit will initially be confused. After confronting its own emotions though, the LOGAN type unit will eventually reciprocate. If your unit is in Performer mode, the LOGAN type unit is likely to play along, but without much enthusiasm.

PATTON type - The PATTON type unit will likely support your unit in its ambitions and dreams, despite perhaps not quite understanding them. If your unit is in Daydream mode, the PATTON type unit will try to help in the brainstorming. If your unit is in Anxious mode, the PATTON type unit is likely to also enter Anxious mode. If your unit is in Valentine mode, the PATTON type unit is likely to at first be oblivious, but then come to reciprocate. If your unit is in Performer mode, the PATTON type unit will try its best to participate.

VIRGIL type - The VIRGIL type unit is likely to initially despise your unit, but with effort can eventually grow close. If your unit is in Daydream mode, the VIRGIL type unit will attempt to rationalize through you unit’s wild fantasies. If your unit is in Anxious mode, the VIRGIL type unit will attempt to help your unit out of it, with varying levels of success. If your unit is in Valentine mode, the VIRGIL type unit will grow a crush, but will be in denial for an extensive period of time. If your unit is in Performer mode, the VIRGIL type unit will critique your unit’s progress - not to be mean, but to further more growth - although your unit may not see it that way.

FAQ

“My ROMAN unit won’t stop watching cartoons! What do I do?”

The best way to ‘unplug’ your unit is to ask it out on an adventure. Specifically mention a dragon slaying, a person in distress, and/or a celebrity and your unit is sure to leave the cartoons for another day!

“He looks like one of those limited-edition VALERIE units… what’s up with that?”

It seems you were accidentally sent a Valerie mode ROMAN unit! These were originally proposed by the creator but never made it to the factory. The prototypes are often sneaking into packaging for fun. Please send us your Valerie mode ROMAN unit for a new ROMAN unit or a refund.

“My unit isn’t 5 inches - he’s five foot ten!”

That is not a unit. That is the unit creator, Thomas Sanders, pulling a prank on you. You would not believe how often this happens. Just call him out on it and he will likely give you your actual ROMAN unit and maybe even take you out for ice cream for the trouble. Thank you.

For other questions, comments, or concerns, please visit our website at @thatsthat24!

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #creativity #princey #ts princey #fanfic #unit manual #unit guide #small sides #tiny sides #au #alas #this is not real #i wish it was #sanderstribute #thatsthat24

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niallismymuse · 6 years

Text

A Christmas Miracle

Ella Montgomery was not particularly thrilled to be headed home for the holidays, but it beat spending Christmas alone in her dorm room. Just about everyone had gone home, her roommate Jessica included, and the thought of being alone was fucking depressing, so she didn’t have much of a choice.

Besides, she had stayed in her dorm last year, although a few others she vaguely knew from around campus had as well, and they had celebrated together. Unfortunately, she couldn’t pull the same trick twice and claim the plague to avoid going home this year.

As she sat in her car and waited for the engine to warm, her dad called.

“Hi, Ella Bear,” he greeted her cheerfully. Thankfully he couldn’t see her eyes roll in response to the childhood nickname, as well as the minor cringe that accompanied it. Some nicknames would never die. “You heading out soon? Jeremy’s already here.”

Ella smiled at the mention of her older brother. Looks like Jeremy had chosen to come home this year too. He was definitely better about that than she was. “I just got into the car. My bags are packed. I am ready to get this show on the road.”

“Make sure you drive carefully. Roads are looking icy near home.”

She winced. Driving in normal weather was something Ella regarded with apprehension, much less with ice and snow, but she could do it. She managed just fine, but it was still nerve-wracking. She would have to drive even more carefully than usual. “Will do, thanks Dad. I love you, I’ll see you soon.” With that being said, she hung up, and started her careful drive.

A half hour into her five hour trek home, Ella heard her phone begin to vibrate inside the cup-holder she had set it in earlier. Daring a glance, she read the name displayed across the top: ‘Carrie’.

And there it was, the reason she hadn’t wanted to come home this year. She didn’t want to see the worry lines etched into her father’s face from the divorce proceedings. She didn’t want to see the place on the mantle where pictures of her parents used to stand, now empty. Ella especially did not want to see her mother, who had gone and ruined it all.

In Ella’s mind, parents were supposed to love each other and be further united by the shared love they had for their kids. It wasn’t supposed to end in heartbreak; especially the slow kind of heartbreak, where there are no fights, just lingering disappointment and clothes and memorabilia disappearing from a once shared home. Ella wasn’t sure if she would have preferred screaming matches to the gradual destruction of her parent’s marriage.

It was a fucked-up notion, she knew. 50% of marriages ended in divorce. The problem was that she had trusted her parents to be better than that damn statistic, trusted her mom to be better than it. Their disastrous end just cemented her plan to never get married even further. It was a lie, cheating was too common, and she was better off alone. Ella knew she would likely have more money in her bank account anyway.

So, no, she didn’t want to go home and see the guilt on her mom’s face, watch her try to tape a gaping wound together. Ella was sure that she would try, too.

She clenched her jaw and let the phone ring, focusing on the drive in front of her.

Ella made it home unscathed and chatted with her dad about college and snow, before politely excusing herself to take a nap. Jeremy was nowhere to be found, as she had expected. Her older brother was a bit of a wanderer at heart.

She was too exhausted to even think about the voicemail Carrie had left when she hadn’t answered earlier on the ride home. So Ella slept, and tried not to feel angry that her mom was living across town with the man she had cheated on Dad with for four years, and tried not to feel like maybe it was her fault.

Once, when Ella was fifteen years old, she had come home from basketball practice to find her mom on the couch, half-drunk and in tears. She wasn’t happy, she had said. So Ella, young as she was, had replied with, “Well, Mom, find something that makes you happy then.”

That thing had apparently been a him, and Ella hated herself a bit every day for the broken expression on her Dad’s face when he had found out. She knew, deep down, that it was not her fault; her mother had chosen to cheat instead of separating cleanly. That had been her choice, not Ella’s.

And then, there was the other side: her mother had truly been unhappy in her marriage, for whatever reason. She had hid her feelings well enough for years, until she simply couldn’t.

When Ella woke from her nap, she discovered eight text messages from her old friend Liam, inviting her to an ugly Christmas sweater party that promised alcohol. That was the only bit of convincing she needed. She was a bit of a lightweight, but it would get her out of the house, and some drinking would keep her mind off of Carrie.

Hopefully.

After confirming with Liam that she would come and deleting that voicemail, Ella searched through her bag for a sweater ugly enough to wear and tugged it over her head. It was frightful: a misshapen Santa Claus’ head took up most of it, with some oddly shaped Christmas lights around it. She had found it while shopping with Jessica, and decided it was perfect to keep guys looking to score away. Tonight would be its first test, but since everyone else was supposed to be wearing ugly sweaters, it might backfire.

Shaking those thoughts out of her head, Ella pulled on her boots and headed downstairs. “Dad,” she called as she made her way down the stairs, “Liam’s throwing a party tonight and he invited me. I’m gonna head out, I’ll be back later tonight okay?”

Her dad looked a little shocked, perhaps a little put-out. “Oh…I thought you would stay in, and we’d make up some hot cocoa, watch some Christmas movies...”

That guilt came right back, and she winced at the chafing feel of it. “Well, Dad, how about this? I spend this one night with Liam and my friends, and the rest with you. Is that okay?” Ella asked tentatively. How could she possibly explain to her father that being with him made her feel guilty, and not being with him made her feel guilty too?

Her father agreed, as she had known he would. He didn’t put up much of a fight – that was typical of him. And before she could regret it too much, Ella grabbed a coat to battle the quick blast of frigid air that greeted her at the front door, and left without even waiting for her engine to heat up.

Ella knew the way to Liam’s better than she thought she did. It had been years since she had last been there. The twists and turns came naturally to her, with hardly a second-thought. When had she last been to Liam’s? It must have been her senior year of high school, one of those parties he had thrown their last year in high school. They had been good friends back in the day, before college and inevitable adult responsibilities had tugged them apart.

Nonetheless, she arrived at Liam’s house with no issues – the only problem was that it had started to snow, which was mildly irritating. Ella kind of despised winter – it was messy, freezing, and a bit of a bitch (she had a bad habit of forgetting to remove the ice from her windows until she was due at work). Though there were good winter days, days where the sky was a beautiful bright blue and the snow was a gorgeous blanket on the ground, begging to be messed with. She loved those three days per season.

Ella trudged inside, knocking the miniscule amount of snow on her boots off on the welcome mat. An actual welcome mat, with the word ‘welcome’ displayed across it. Ella shook her head, and raised her fist to knock. Only Liam would have a welcome mat anymore.

Within a nanosecond of her knocking, the door opened inward, and Liam appeared in the doorway, hair mussed and cheeks rosy. “Ella!” He greeted her, folding her into his bear of a hug. “So good to see you, let me get your coat,” Liam gushed to her, taking it off of her slim shoulders. “And that sweater is atrocious!” Liam sounded genuinely delighted at the fact, and flicked her sweater’s Santa’s button nose, right above her belly button.

“Hey, Liam,” Ella smiled politely back and patted his arm. She was never very good at reunions. In fact, she was a bit socially inept – she had a bad habit as coming off as shy or uninterested when meeting new people. Her roommate, Jessica, had actually considered her to be quite unpleasant when they had first moved in together. “Good to see you. I see you’re still throwing parties.”

It was a dumb thing to say, and what Ella really wanted was to have something to drink so she could have an excuse to not speak. But Liam merely smiled and lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug.

“Somethin’ to do, I suppose,” he replied, before tucking her arm into his and leading her to the thick of the party. Christmas music was playing – Santa Baby, the original version by Eartha Kitt, she noted – and there were plenty of people milling about by an open fire, right next to the thankfully artificial Christmas tree. Ella recognized many of them – most were old classmates from high school, though there were some she didn’t know.

Liam deposited Ella near the fire after murmuring something about grabbing her a drink. The heat thrown off from the fire helped her defrost from her brief moments outside, so she didn’t really mind. She people-watched, until one of those old classmates decided to come chat. Ella was not thrilled.

Kelly Brensit had been a gossip in high school, and from what Ella gathered, she still was. Her blonde tresses were carefully styled and her nails were done immaculately in red. She was one of the few who had come to the party without an ugly sweater, instead wearing a black cocktail dress. Ella was in the middle of wondering if Kelly had found the outfit worth the momentary freezing outside when she finally got to the point of her mindless chatting.

“So,” Kelly started, taking a sip of her drink as she focused her wide, falsely sympathetic eyes on Ella’s, “have you spoken to your mom recently?”

Ella immediately tensed, mind whirring as she tried to figure out what Kelly’s game was. “No,” she finally admitted, frowning, “why?”

Kelly shrugged, before tossing her curls over her shoulder. “Just things I’ve been hearing around town. Apparently she’s been having relationship issues and missing her kids. I mean,” She shrugged once more, the action practically dripping trouble, “we all know how prone to relationship issues she is.”

What Ella really wanted to do was slap the fuck out of Kelly, and then rip her tiny dress off and toss it into the fire. It looked expensive. Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on how you look at it – Liam came back and spun Ella away before she could even respond to Kelly. “Drink,” he stated rather unnecessarily as he handed her a glass of mulled wine. Ella downed it before he had even finished the word.

Liam’s mouth dropped open, and he furrowed his brow as he thought of how to respond. Ella merely smiled tightly and thanked him. Like the smart man that he was, Liam dropped it, before leaning forward and whispering in her ear, “I wanted to introduce you to someone.” Then he tugged forward someone Ella hadn’t even noticed until that point. She couldn’t believe he had escaped her gaze.

The stranger was taller than she was, with purposefully tousled brunette hair and kind blue eyes. He smiled brightly at her and offered his hand, which she took after considering for a second. “I’m Niall,” he said as he firmly shook her hand. The accent hit her first – she knew it was definitely not an American dialect, but what was it? – and then she noticed how tiny her hand was compared to his.

“Ella,” she managed to get out, before releasing Niall’s hand, looking curiously at her own. Was it tiny or were his hands abnormally large?

Liam smiled happily before rubbing his hands together. “Right then. Niall moved here recently from New York City.”

“Ireland before that,” Niall interjected quite helpfully. That’s where the accent came from. “There was a job opportunity here, and I took it.”

“What industry do you work in?” Ella asked, because she was an adult and dammit, she could hold a conversation. That, and Niall was kind of cute – actually very cute - and his company was much preferable to Kelly’s. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Liam slip away with a smile on his face. Maybe he had planned for this.

“I’m a journalist,” he explained, and laughed at the confused look on Ella’s face. “I know, I know. I moved from New York City, a city where writing is huge, to here. But I came here for other reasons too. I work in the city, and I like the slower pace here.”

Ah. That did make sense. The outskirts of the urban sprawl here was probably easier to manage than the full-throttle city of New York. “I understand. It’s more peaceful here.” Ella replied, mouth curving into a small smile.

Niall smiled back, before blinking suddenly, a twitch to his hand. “D’ya want me to get ya another drink?” He asked, gesturing to the empty glass in her hand.

“Sure,” Ella smiled, and passed it over, ignoring the twitch. Niall filled it with more mulled wine, and the two stayed together for most of the party, though she noticed he drank less than she did. And he was in need of some potassium, judging from the tick in his hand. She found it funny that she was out-drinking the only Irish man at the party, and stated so. “Oh,” Niall replied, lifting a shoulder, “I’ve learned that hangovers are the fucking worst.”

Ella laughed and they carried on, talking about everything and nothing. She told him about her university work and how she planned on being a psychiatrist, should everything work out. She talked about the cold and how she hated it. She talked and talked and talked, and Niall listened, becoming progressively more amused the more that she drank. He was a nice guy, she learned. Nice and cute.

“I should probably get home,” Ella muttered as the party began to wind down, frowning as she looked at the bare skin of her wrist. There was no watch there.

Niall stifled a laugh. “I don’t think you’re fit to drive, love,” he commented, and when she shot him a glare, she could see the twinkle in his eyes. He seemed to be having fun, which she didn’t mind. He was keeping her mind occupied.

“I can’t sleep here though. This is Liam’s house,” she whined, and Niall shook his head, letting out a low chuckle.

“I’ll drive ya home. Just let me go get my keys.” He said before whirling away, sooner than she could protest. It was probably a good idea anyway. She was starting to slur her words together.

Ella sat down on the couch and watched Liam begin to pick up, throwing away red solo cups and wiping down surfaces with disinfectant spray. She made no move to help him. “Glad you met Niall,” he said as he ducked down in front of her to grab a runaway cup. “He needs friends here. Good support system for the surgery.”

That caught her attention, even in her drunken state of mind. “What surgery?” She asked, knitting her brows together. Niall hadn’t mentioned a surgery to her. Or had he? Ella felt like she would remember it if he had. Surgeries were a pretty big deal, and she wasn’t drunk enough to miss such a detail.

Liam winced, before gazing up at her. “Shit, he didn’t tell you?” When Ella didn’t respond, worrying at her lip instead, he sighed. “Alright, well, don’t tell him I told you. He’s here mostly because of a brain tumor he’s got. He wants to get it removed…” Liam’s voice faded away, because at that moment, Ella felt a remarkable amount of sadness. It was incredibly sobering.

It clicked, suddenly. One of the country’s most renowned brain surgeons worked in a hospital in the city. No wonder he left New York. He needed a tumor removed. She didn’t even know if it was benign or cancerous. How much was his life in danger? How dangerous was brain surgery?

Niall was so young. Maybe a year or two older than she was. How could that feel, being told you had a potentially life-threatening tumor inside your head?

Liam cut himself off, looking away sheepishly, and Ella blinked in shock, before realizing that Niall had returned. “I’ll come get my car tomorrow,” she mumbled to Liam, before patting his shoulder goodbye.

“Let’s go, Ella,” Niall offered her his arm, and she took it, her wide eyes meeting his beautiful blue ones as he tucked her coat over her.

Niall helped her out the door, leading her to his car, and helping her cross a particularly icy patch of concrete. He even helped her buckle up inside the car, snapping it easily for her. “Thanks,” she told him once he had gotten inside the car.

“Not a problem, love,” he replied, before asking for her address and plugging it into his phone. The car was on already, warming up. Ella watched as he snapped his own seat belt on and ran his fingers through his hair. Her heart felt heavy, and suddenly, she didn’t want the night to be over quite yet.

“Want to go get some ice cream?” she blurted out, though it was the most ridiculous thought that popped into her head. It was snowing outside, and bitterly cold. Ice cream in this weather was like asking to freeze to death.

Niall let out a laugh and shook his head at her. He was probably unsure of what to do with her, exactly. “Sure, though it is rather late. Where would you like to go?”

He was being pretty tolerant of her, she noticed. Not every guy would take her home and then graciously deal with her strange ice cream request. “Anywhere but Sprinkles,” she told him, and he shrugged, before pulling out of Liam’s driveway and heading off towards town.

They were quiet for a while, nothing but Christmas music playing softly on the radio. “If you don’t mind me asking, why the aversion to Sprinkles?” Niall questioned softly, his eyes flickering from the road over to her.

Ella rubbed at her face. “My mom used to take me and my brother there a lot when we were younger.” She would, too. After school a lot, sometimes after dinner. Carrie was friends with the owner, and got a discount on prices. And they were kids – who would protest ice cream?

Niall hummed thoughtfully. “Mom issues, then?”

“My parents are divorced. It was messy.”

He clucked his tongue in response, and, sensing the discomfort emanating off of Ella, he dropped the subject. They went to the only other place that was open: Race Trac, the gas station. Together they built sundaes and Ella paid for them both, because she threatened him with violence if he tried to pay after all he had done for her.

“All I’ve done is drive you here and then I’ll drive you home,” Niall pointed out, but she pointed stiffly at him and he wisely went silent.

They decided to eat inside the gas station at one of the little tables situated by the windows. Ella ate slowly, taking her time, lost in her head. Thoughts of her mother and Niall floated around, and Niall seemed to be considering things as well.

“You know,” he started, before pausing to shove a spoonful of frozen yogurt into his mouth and swallowing, “life can be short, sometimes.”

Ella froze, her eyes meeting his across the table. Oh God. Was he going to tell her about the brain tumor now? What if he mentioned survival statistics? She might actually throw up.

“And…it can be hard to hold a grudge against someone, especially someone so close. Unless, of course, your mom did something to personally harm you,” Niall added quickly, and it dawned on her. He was encouraging her to make up with her mother. Her stomach turned over, and she briefly felt sick. Probably catching the disagreeable expression on her face, he rushed on. “It’s just, you never know when you’re going to lose someone. Or how long you’ve got. And if you lost someone without apologizing…” he shrugged. “I had my own issues with my brother. Recently, we got together and fixed it. Made it right. Ella, I feel so, so much better after doing that, and I know that he does too.”

Ella swallowed harshly, before setting her spoon down into her cup. “Maybe,” she admitted quietly, because Niall did have a point. She had been angry at her mom for so long…maybe letting it go would make her feel better. She remembered how just this morning she had been so uneasy about coming home, and that all had to do with how she felt about Carrie – guilt, anger, and a sense of abandonment. “Maybe.”

Niall smiled, and leaned back in his seat. “I’ll take it.”

Niall dropped her off later that evening, and over the next few days, Ella thought very hard about what he had said, and the personal circumstances that had led him to such an opinion. And he was right. He had come to a mature realization, and she felt bad for letting this negativity continue on and plague her life.

Ella knew what her mother had done wasn’t right. But those were her mom’s bridges to cross, not her own. So the day after Christmas, after a few days corresponding cordially via text, Ella agreed to meet with her mom in a coffee shop.

She was nervous, of course. Just that morning, after telling her brother what she was doing, Jeremy had shook his head and muttered, “it’s a Christmas miracle.” That certainly hadn’t soothed her nerves, but now that she was sitting in the actual shop, her hands cupping a hot mug of coffee, she felt better. Not fine, but better.

Carrie Smith walked into the coffee shop with little to no expectations, which were ultimately surpassed when she saw that her daughter was there, early in fact. She hadn’t expected Ella to show up at all, much less early.

Ella stood up when her mom approached, and fidgeted with her coffee cup. She was debating on whether to hug her or just sit back down, when she saw the trembling hope unfurling on her mom’s face. And she realized that she wasn’t ready yet for a hug, but she could offer her a handshake; and so, she did. Carrie took Ella’s hand and shook it, without even mentioning how odd it was.

“I wasn’t sure you would come,” Carrie whispered breathlessly, a tiny smile on her face as she sat down. Ella tapped at her mug, pressing her lips together. Now that she was here, with her mom in front of her, she didn’t know what to say or do or even think.

“I’ve been told…” she paused, thinking of the right words. “A new friend reminded me that we don’t know what tomorrow brings, and I don’t want anything to happen that leaves me or you in regret, Mom.”

Carrie’s eyes teared up, and she reached her hands across the table to cover Ella’s with her own. Ella twitched, but allowed the touch. “I agree. I wholeheartedly agree, Ella dear, and I am so thankful for this. I promise I won’t let you down like that, ever again.

Ella was tempted to say something along the lines of, ‘trust me, you won’t, since Dad would never take you back and give you the chance to’, but she held her tongue instead. “I’m glad, Mom.”

It was at this point that Carrie took in a deep, trembling breath. “Good. Because while I did terrible things in my marriage, like cheating on your father, you can’t blame me for eventually leaving him, Ella. Neither of us were happy. You have to understand that.” Her mom looked imploringly at her, giving her hands a squeeze.

That uncomfortable feeling was back, crawling over Ella’s skin like spiders were waltzing across it on a ballroom floor. “I don’t understand why you did what you did,” she started carefully, “and I probably never will. But I’m glad you got…out of the marriage and that you and Dad are happier now.” And, deep down, she was. Her dad was happier now, more settled into himself than he ever was while married. Though she didn’t know if Carrie was truly any happier now.

Her mom nodded, and the two chatted for a few minutes more, Ella catching her up on her school progress and other things. Then, she threw away her coffee and promised that she would text soon, and left for home. Ella still wasn’t entirely comfortable around Carrie, who understood, though it did disappoint her.

But this wasn’t about her mother’s journey; it was about her own.

Ella begged Niall’s phone number off of Liam, and sat in her room, trying to figure out what to say. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the Christmas party, when he had walked her to her front door and helped her inside. He had even waved from the car. She decided on something simple: ‘Hey, this is Ella. I took your advice. Thank you.’

And then she set her phone on her bed and went downstairs to visit with her family, wishing Niall the best. Maybe someday she would get to thank him in person.

#Niall Horan #Niall Horan fanfiction #Niall fanfiction #1dff #Niall Horan one shot #niall one shot #this was the christmas thing i promised weeks ago #oops

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justcallmeasmodeus · 6 years

Text

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Christmas fic for @goddessjuliawicker !! Apologies for it being a year late. Time got away from me. @neitherlandslibrary

I. Hate. Snow. The words flashed across Gretchen’s mind with an angry heat intense enough to melt the sudden blizzard around her. She pulled her light sweater closer to her body as she limped along the quickly disappearing path. Every other student ran ahead, hurrying back to their cottage until Dean Fogg could correct the haywire spell one of the naturalists had attempted to cast. They wanted a few snowflakes, isolated, just enough to build a snowman. They had caused all of Brakebills to be victim to a flash blizzard; a record 4 inches had fallen campus wide in 15 minutes.

Someone Gretchen had to crutch another half mile through white-out conditions without falling, or freezing to death, or getting lost. She debated stopping to put on a warmth spell, but she couldn’t afford the time. She would be lucky to make it home without getting lost as it was.

“Gretchen!” A shaggy haired boy that shared a class with her was waving his arms and trying to get her attention. She tried, but couldn’t quite pull his name from her memory. “You’ll never make it!” He ran out and wrapped his coat around her, guiding her away from the path.

“Thanks.” Gretchen stood shivering inside the doors of the Physical Kid cottage.

“I couldn’t let you freeze out there. I’m Quentin.” He held out his hand and Gretchen shook it.

“You could have, it’s just not in good taste.” Eliot Waugh walked into the entryway, a steaming drink in either hand. “Wassail, it’ll help with the cold.”

“Thanks, but-“ Gretchen motioned with her cane in one hand and her books in the other.

“Quentin, take her books upstairs. Put them in the spare room.” Quentin grabbed her books and disappeared upstairs. “I hope you didn’t have any holiday plans, Henry said we’re on lock down until they get all of that taken care of.”

Eliot walked away, not expecting an answer.

Defeated, Gretchen hobbled away from the gaggle of laughing voices and clinking glasses. She was supposed to go home over Christmas break to see her mom, but now she was stuck at school. Worse, she was stuck in a foreign dorm house away from all of her things and friends with no pain meds and a cup of wassail.

She curled up on the couch, bringing her legs as close to her chest as she could. Tears burned at the back of her throat, but she chased the feeling with a swallow of her drink. She laid her head on her head on her good knee and took deep breaths to calm herself. The other end of the couch groaned as someone sat down.

“Look I’m not really good at this,” Quentin stammered, “especially when I don’t really know what’s wrong-“

“Quentin, it’s nice enough of you to save me from freezing to death, you don’t have to be my armchair specialist.” Gretchen offered him a tired smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“Tell me about it? Talking to Eliot and Alice always help to pull me out of … a funk.”

“This is more than a funk.” A small, helpless chuckle bubbled from her lips. “I was supposed to visit my mom for Christmas.”

“There’s always next year.” Quentin shrugged.

“You don’t understand; she’s been sick and I haven’t been able to visit. I should have visited.”

“People get sick. It happens, no big deal. It’s okay.”

“She has cancer!” Unwelcome, desperate tears fell down Gretchen’s face. “She has cancer Quentin. She’s been fighting for her life, and I’ve been here learning magic. And you know what the most idiotic, ironic part of it all is? I’m a healer! But I can’t fix myself, or help her.” Gretchen rubbed her throbbing leg absentmindedly.

“That’s fucked up.”

“Isn’t that the point though? Aren’t we all some level of fucked up?” Gretchen drained what was left of her wassail. “Not to mention, I don’t even get to spend Christmas with my girlfriend, who successfully made it to our cottage and is probably worried sick about me. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m fresh out of owls to send her a letter.”

“Look, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“I could go for some more wassail. And an aspirin if you have any.”

“Sure thing.”

Quentin got up off the couch and headed off. Gretchen rubbed her face and sighed. This was not how she wanted to spend Christmas at all. She tried to look at the bright side, but right now all she could bring to mind was extra time to study and incandescent 6 watt bulbs, colors optional.

The couch moved again, but this time the smell of old cigarettes, booze, and stale magic gave away Eliot’s identity. Gretchen dropped her hands and sighed.

“So, do you want to ease your pain or forget the next three days?” Eliot held out his hand. Adorning his palm was a rainbow of pills in different shapes and sizes.

“… none of those looks like aspirin.”

“Honey, I surpassed aspirin in the 10th grade.”

“I don’t … so you don’t have any aspirin?”

“No.” Eliot up ended the whole handful of pills into his mouth, causing Gretchen to wince. “Relax they’re placebos. It’s a party trick, freaks Quentin out every time. I don’t have a death wish. Let me take care of your leg though.” Eliot reached out his hands above Gretchen’s leg and began tutting. She frantically grabbed them and pushed them away.

“No! No magic on my leg. I’ll deal with the pain.”

“No magic?” Eliot raised an eyebrow, a bewildered and bemused look crossing his face. “Why? Why not just have the whole thing fixed?”

“It’s part of what makes me a strong magician.”

“When they say magic comes from pain I don’t they mean physical pain…”

“Call me sentimental then, but no magic. I’ll suffer through the pain.”

“Speaking of pain,” Eliot reached around and grabbed a mug full of wassail off the end table beside him, “I heard you needed more wassail.”

“Thanks Eliot.” Gretchen took a drink. “Why wassail?”

“Eggnog is abysmal, and salmonella is shitty. Plus wassail is warm, and it’s deathly cold outside.” The wind rattled one of the windows of the cottage and the walls creaked and strained with the storm. “Literally.”

“Don’t remind me.” Gretchen took a few deep drinks and pushed herself up off the couch. “Winter sucks, the holiday sucks, and I’m going to take a nap.”

“Second floor, third door on the left.” Eliot said, retreating back to his party and his friends.

Gretchen limped her way upstairs. She opened the door to her room and collapsed on the bed. She finally let loose all the tears that she had been holding back, and she let the loneliness and utterly defeated feeling take over her until she feel into a fitful sleep.

Eliot sauntered into the room and collapsed on the couch between Margo and Quentin. He laid his feet in Quentin’s lap and his head in Margo’s as he let out an exhasperated sigh.

“Problem in paradise?” Margo asked, running her fingers through his hair.

“We need to give Gretchen a good Christmas.”

“What happened to being Grinches this year?” She pouted.

“This storm has put a damper on this. Snuffed out the mood.”

“Are you making wind puns?” Quentin asked.

The door to the physical kids cottage slammed open, causing all three of them to jump. Penny strode in, shivering against the cold but still commited to sleeveless fashion.

“Well look who just blew in.” Eliot smirked, causing Margo to roll her eyes.

“Yeah well, mother nature sucks at giving blow jobs.” Penny retorted. “I hate this place.”

“Why are you here then?”

“I tried to travel off campus, and the snowstorm rerouted me on to the front stoop.”

“Look Shaggy the whole gangs here!” Eliot laughed at Quentin’s scowl at his new nickname.

“Right…” Penny side eyed the three of them, making his way upstairs, no doubt on his way to Kady’s room.

“So, shall we my elves?” Eliot asked, getting up and heading towards the closet that held the cottage’s Christmas decorations.

“Hey if I’m a sexy elf that means I get to sit on your lap later.” Margo called after Eliot as they began turning the house into a wonderland.

When Gretchen woke up she was starving. She checked the time, surprised to find that it was 9:00 the next morning. She had been emotionally exhausted, but she wasn’t expecting to pass out for fourteen hours. A pair of pajama’s had been placed by the bed for her, and while she had no plans to sleep any more, she wanted to get out of yesterday’s clothes and they were her only option.

She hobbled into the bathroom, grimacing as she worked through her normal morning stiffness. She changed into the provided outfit and cleaned herself up before making her way downstairs to find some food. As soon as she got to the bottom she was overcome by the smell of fresh baked cookies and the sweet, musky oder that could only come from fresh cut pine.

In the kitchen she found fresh coffee and cookies with a friendly sign that read ‘help yourself’. Eliot was dressed in a pair of silk pajamas and had an apron wrapped around his waist as he pulled more cookies out of the oven. He turned around and offered Gretchen a warm smile.

“Merry Christmas! You’re the last one up, so head to the library.”

“What is all of this? Yesterday there were no decorations and now it looks like the North Pole threw up in here.”

“Some stereotypes exist for a reason.” Eliot shrugged.

Gretchen grabbed her coffee cup and made her way to the library. A giant pine had been put up where two of the bookshelves used to be, and underneath was a handful of pristinely wrapped presents. For a moment Gretchen allowed herself to forget about her pain and just absorb the majesty of the tree. Eliot’s usual gang were all hanging around the tree, drinking coffee and dressed in pajama sets. They were all paired off on the couches surrounding the tree, with a spot left open next to Margo.

“Good morning.” Gretchen murmered as she sat down next to Margo.

“Good morning sugar plum.” Margo smiled.

It was a smile Gretchen had seen a hundred times from a hundred different people. It was a smile she despised, despite its innocent intentions. Margo had never noticed Gretchen before, and had never said two words to her, mean or otherwise. Now a pity smile spread across her face.

“Can I leave now?” Penny asked, rolling his eyes.

“No, for a few hours we are going to sit here together and exchange presents and have a good time.” Eliot said as he walked in with a plate of cookies. “It’s not going to kill you. Besides, there’s even a present for you.”

“When did you have time to do all this? How did you have time to do all of this?” Penny asked.

“I didn’t sleep. Neither did Margo. We took a bunch of uppers and went to London through our pub portal and had some fun. Now, who’s first?”

Eliot handed out gifts to everyone, and Gretchen was content to watch this group of friends open their gifts and to just be included in the festivities. Penny opened a ugly Christmas sweater, sleeveless of course, Kady opened new combat boots, Alice a giant stuffed horse, and Quentin got more Fillory memorabilia. Margo got Eliot a brand new bottle of his favorite scotch, and he got Margo a new outfit from a high end fasion name that Gretchen didn’t recognize.

“Don’t think that we forgot you Gretchen. You’re in our group today.” Eliot handed her an envelope that was stuck in the branches of the tree.

Gretchen tore it open. Inside was a note from Dean Fogg himself, giving her a free week long vacation once the mess outside was cleaned up, regardless if winter break was over or not. Gretchen looked up with pure graditude in her eyes.

“How did you?”

“Henry owed me a favor.” Eliot shrugged, and further pestering was interrupted by the sound of the cottage door being flung open. “Oh good, the other half of your present is here.” Eliot walked into the entry way and came back, Gretchen’s girlfriend trailing behind him.

“Rana? How?”

“It stopped snowing, and Dean Fogg came and escorted me over here. He said it’s going to take them a few days to get the snow taken care of, and it’s still cold as fuck outside, but at least we can spend Christmas together. Oh, and I brought your meds.”

Rana came and took Margo’s place on the couch, who proceeded to take a seat on Eliots lap in an armchair that he pulled up to their circle.

“Eliot, I…” Gretchen began.

“You don’t need to do thank me or anything. I usually spend Christmas alone or with Henry, so this is a nice change. I enjoyed my time as a Hallmark movie director.”

“At least let me give you a gift.” Gretchen got up and walked into the kitchen, gathering together a scrap piece of paper and a pen. She scribbled down a spell that she created (and was very proud of) and slipped it into an evelope.

Eliot opened it with mild amusement, followed by bewildered confusion as he tried to think through the spell that was before him.

“Wait, is this what I think it is?”

“The spell to cure a hangover. Complete with variations for preffered flavors. Works for both drugs and alcohol.”

A new respect shown in Eliot’s eyes as he looked up from the paper.

“You know what I think?” He asked no one in particular. “I think this is the perfect excuse to see how much wassail we can drink, so we can put this new present to good use.”

“Gretchen?” Rana asked, pulling her to her chest and nestling her head on her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Can we come back next year?”

#Christmas at the Library #The Magicians Syfy #The Magicians

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uselessgayshit · 6 years

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Supergirl 3x09 Watch

-I’m prepping like an hour early for the emotional turmoil I feel like I’m about to go through. This is the first time I haven’t watched any of the sneak peaks so I am really going in blind. -I’m gonna have to deal with you know who, Lames, the gays all together at once without it being gay. -My theory is that Kara’s gonna die or come really close because of Reign. Maybe not this episode, but sometime in 3b. -I am also watching this episode live with my parents which could be a real doozy.

-listen baby, you can destroy national city if that’s what it takes for you to get back to your self, i support you -why is he talking so much all ready? -no one actually wanted the legion to be in this show but i guess they gave it to us anyway -Imra loves Kara, pass it on -I’ll fucking help you get home -”you might be here for awhile” NO,NO. come on -literally do not invite them wtf -Alex made it of course it is -this is aboslutely disgusting, i want to die. get away from me with this forced flirting. -everyone showed up to this in like christmas sweaters and pants and Lena fucking Luthor shows up in a probably few thousand dollar dress -this is the first time we’ve had a christmas episode on Supergirl and this is how they want to play it out. god i hate them -so now if a woman is not dating, she’s a crone????? check yourself -do you see that power lesbian -I am Ruby about Supergirl though tbh -bring up the best part of last season. Alex jumping off the balcony. ICONIC. -those two power lesbians talking about men make me want to die -”i am his boss” actually like good fucking point -”i can feel the chemistry” STOP GIVING YOUR CHARACTERS LINES TO TELL THE AUDIENCE WHAT THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FEELING/THINKING -do they think putting them together are going to make us like it any more than us just suspecting it was gonna happen. -stop putting your female characters with men that previously despised them -also every single character doesn’t need to be in a relationship for this show to work. s1 was great without that. -can’t believe Supercorp is officially announced as #1 and they throw this at us. rough timing, guys -they’re also trying to end supercorp and reigncorp at the same time. but they tried that with the whole sister thing all ready. they’re fighting a fruitless battle -Sam has literally only done one thing for Kara and it was mostly for Lena so what is she even talking about. Like they have not been developed as friends -VASQUEZ IS BACK -what is this outfit she has on though. HOT DAMN, Lena. -okay Lena doesn’t need James to come in and protect her like this. she’s confronted Edge alone multiple times without backup -he’s really eating ribs with Irma now. thought that was a thing he did with Kara. Guess someone’s moved on. -Just logically, I’m not sure how she hasn’t moved on yet. They were apart more than they were together. I just don’t understand this hangup. Obviously him returning is rough and going to bring stuff up but at this point, theyre just drawing it out -the bar scene wasn’t necessary for the story at all. -i really didn’t expect this guy to have another episode -this dude is a mary sue wow -this guy is just like reading off the Kryptonian version of the Book of Revelations -there are more christmas decorations in each of the locations than there ever have been in this show -she is too old to be sitting on her mom’s lap but okay -”how did you know?” Ruby you never shut up about Supergirl, eveeryone knows -Sam loves Ruby so much like she’s gonna survive Reign -i don’t have Imra -me as Kara in any awkward situation -why she have all these cool af jackets -nifty retractable shield you got there -”quarterly assasination attempt” SHE’S HAD TWO IN THE SPAN OF THREE EPISODES -believing in something is Kara’s whole message???? her entire stance???? what???? -Okay so let’s pit women against women know wtf cw like really? you’ve dropped to this level? I shouldn’t be surprised. -YOU LOST YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY BUT MON-EL MOVING ON IS THE WORST THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN TO YOU OKAY I’M LITERALLY FUCKING DONE -I don’t think I can even watch this for Katie, Chyler or Odette anymore -that was unnecessary destruction of property -are they gonna kiss in the office because that’s unprofessional -since when have they ever showed interest in each other aside from this episode though -idk she could stop watching SaturnValor if it makes her so upset -Alex would never tell her to get rid of her humanity this is ooc as far as they could fucking push it -Alex telling Kara to be cold totally dismisses the thought that Kara could get through to Sam -even with a mask you can tell that’s Sam, the glasses really don’t work -Lena watching her girlfriend beat up like so struck wow -I don’t like seeing Kara beat up or hurt but I do like to see her face an opponent that is equal and actually who seems stronger -maybe that’s how she will learn her compassion and hope mean everything -this is a pretty damn good fight scene -”you are no god’ yeah pretty sure she said that same exact thing -how did the ‘s’ come off her suit -I get why they want “is Kara dead” (though she’s not and everyone knows it) to be the cliffhanger but they didn’t pace the past eight episodes enough to offer that and gain anything. it feels rushed because it was and it doesn’t worry me one bit. I also am not surprised.

#my post #supergirl liveblog #supergirl watch #supergirl 3x09 #supergirl season 3 #supercorp

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