#so if it was going to happen at any point it might as well be this comeback
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Since people seem to once again be having trouble remembering the order of operations, let me just remind everyone:
The ability Laudna possesses to feed Delilah is Hunger of the Shadow. In the fight with Bor’dor, Laudna used that BEFORE Orym’s head nod. Bor’dor attacked them and her response was to do the thing she knew would give power to Delilah. Matt even makes the sound of Delilah’s heartbeat.
The spell she used after the head nod? Whither and Bloom. The same spell she later attacked Orym with, which isn’t even a warlock spell.
And speaking of the head nod, you want to know what’s it’s prefaced with? ‘Laudna you can do whatever you want.’ And Marisha responds by saying that Laudna is ‘barely present’ because she’s having ptsd flashbacks to all of the times something horrible happened to her and she couldn’t do anything about it. So she kills Bor’dor because it makes her feel in control of the situation.
And yeah, the 4SD where Liam says Orym thought Delilah might come back. Except y’all somehow took that and made it seem like he’s the one who shoved Laudna over the edge when what actually happened is that Laudna flung herself off it because betrayal is triggering to her.
And the sword. The sword which apparently wasn’t triggering enough that Imogen contemplating whether the Vanguard were good guys didn’t cause any reaction. Or for that matter, make her object to Ashton’s ‘this is permission statement.’ But she saw Orym wearing it, got uncomfortable and then all it took was one sentence from Delilah for her to decide to steal it. Delilah, who mutilated her, murdered her, has been possessing her for decades, and who basically held her soul hostage when BH wanted VM to resurrect Laudna. But what Delilah didn’t do? Tell Laudna to steal the sword.
I wasn’t around for campaign 1, but in campaign 2 I definitely noticed a trend that people who were all ‘I love women! Female characters rock!’ would, the second one of their alleged faves did something controversial (or just something they didn’t like) would find a way to shift the onus onto someone else so she could remain blameless. And that is definitely continuing this campaign, and if anything is getting worse (which, not to get into speculation, but I wonder if it’s because all of the female characters this go round are more traditionally feminine than last campaign.)
I think the reason Orym’s been getting raked across the coals so hard by certain parts of the fandom is actually because of this. Because Imogen’s repeatedly gone ‘what if the Vanguard have a point’ and Laudna agrees with everything she says, whereas Orym’s been pretty consistently ‘no, the murder cult that murdered my family are bad guys.’ And well, can’t go around admitting that our faves did something wrong.’
And so we have a situation where Laudna attacks Orym, but somehow that’s Orym’s fault because the possibility of Laudna doing something wrong ruins people’s lesbian cottegecore fantasy. But the thing is, that whole thing was all Laudna. She chose to listen to her first murderer when Delilah said ‘maybe it’s cursed’ and then she chose to blanket the room in magical darkness (sorcerer ability, not warlock) chose to cast an area of effect spell to destroy the thing Orym was using to sheath the sword (sorcerer spell, not warlock) and, upon hurting Orym, chose not to drop said darkness, which meant Orym couldn’t see who attacked him. And when she got caught, she tried to downplay what she did, tried to say that because she didn’t mean to hurt him it didn’t count, refused to apologize for actually hurting him, kept shifting her argument (and even low key got called out on it by Imogen when she asked Laudna why she’s want its power inside her if she thinks it’s so evil.)
There is an alternate universe where Laudna wakes Orym up and they have what probably would have been an intense discussion about the sword (and that might even have been what Marisha was aiming for before Delilah got involved) and THAT truly would have been the ‘both sides are equally right’ scenario, but that’s not what we got. And you can say Orym shouldn’t have taken the sword unilaterally (but somehow Laudna’s allowed to unilaterally steal and absorb it?) or that she’s being manipulated by Delilah, but the fact is that Laudna’s an adult and is responsible for her own decisions. Yes, Delilah is a powerful and malign presence that they all downplayed/ignored, but, to use Marisha’s addiction metaphor, making amends with those you’ve harmed is a part of recovery for a reason. Because ultimately, you are the one who did that. Yes, it does immensely suck for Laudna that she’s been handed the cards she has been, but it’s up to her to make the best play she can.
Wow this got long, but my overall point is that Laudna is a character with her own agency and makes her own decisions (well, Marisha makes them, but at this point y’all should know she’s not conflict averse and is willing to have her characters make controversial character choices). And really, take all that away, what’s left? How much onus can you take from a character before you might as well go look at a painting?
#critical role#cr spoilers#long post#Like this is a Marisha character and a warlock. Do you think she’s going to sit there and be pretty#some of you would hate Fig Faeth’s ‘Complicated Women’ podcast#also this is the part where I say that the cast can say whatever they want on 4SD. If it contradicts the actual show I ignore it#anyway very curious to see what happens when they get to Aeor#Imagine what happens if Delilah tried to get her to eat the beacon
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so. i have been saying since the top of the season that this feels like a reset, and a reintroduction to the characters (which makes sense for a new network!)—i know others have talked about to being a transitional and setup season as well, which i agree with.
ive been thinking about parallels and mirrors and what it might mean to overlay season seven over season four, the things that could possibly imply…
[ID under the cut for easier legibility than alt]
(self indulgent honorable mention parallel: eddie’s blood in buck’s mouth, tommy’s soot on buck’s lips)
season four is the only other non-pilot season to have less than the full 18 episodes. season four is also the only season that ends on a life-altering arc-beginning injury for a member of the 118 (which also makes sense for a shorter than usual season, big hook to make up for the fewer episodes).
at the end of season four, eddie and bobby both end up dramatically injured (sniper). the end of season four also has the first mention of the will. now, i cannot say for sure that either of these are going to be mirrored, BUT. looking at the roadmap they’ve already given us… i have some feelings and predictions :)
and i’m not even going to begin digging into the vertigo references, others have more eloquent things to say, but i wanted to at least mention it because i DO think it’s going to come into play…
(if you can think of any other 4/7 parallels i would LOVE to hear them)
———
IMAGE ID: a three column spreadsheet with the categories “PLOT POINT” , “SEASON 4”, and “SEASON 7”. the text reads:
Buck learns something life-altering that makes things about the rest of his life make sense in hindsight
- S4: Daniel reveal
- S7: Bisexuality discovery
Eddie meets a woman and ends episode 7 of the season on a date with her
- S4: Ana
- S7: Kim
Maddie and Chimney have a major milestone in their relationship
- S4: Jee is born
- S7: They’re getting married
Something horrible happens right before they do
- S4: Albert’s accident
- S7: Chimney gets sick and goes missing
Buck makes a fool of himself on a first date
- S4: Veronica, and the “double date”
- S7: Tommy
Hen and Karen have struggles with the foster system and how to best protect and provide for their foster kids
- S4: Nia
- S7: Mara
Athena and Bobby have trouble communicating, putting their relationship in a rocky spot
- S4: Bobby sponsoring the woman from the pileup and hiding it, Athena telling Bobby that she had considered retirement but never talked to him
- S7: The cruise ship and Athena being unable to tell Bobbby why she's so uncomfortable with the prospect of down time together
Someone talks to Eddie about following his own desires in a relationship, not what's expected
- S4: Bobby about Ana, Carla about Ana
- S7: Bobby about Marisol
Buck has a heart to heart with Christopher about the anxiety he has towards the fragility of relationships with the people in his life
- S4: Shannon and people leaving him, feeling isolated during the pandemic
- S7: Shannon and the girls he's leading on
Hen and Karen meet another parent related to their foster children
- S4: Meeting Nia's mom in the park and having lunch with her and Nia
- S7: Finding Tyson and reconnecting him with Mara
Someone with the initials TK that Buck met in relation to a helicopter, kisses Buck in his kitchen after Eddie gets hurt and then has to leave
- S4: Taylor
- S7: Tommy
#and that’s not even TOUCHING the implications for s5/s8 mirrors#IMPORTANT NOTE: I AM JUST HAVING FUN. dont take this too seriously i just love a spreadsheet ghfjfjfj#my vertigo prediction is that someone will fall from a great height :) all fall down baybeeee#iinryer post
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I really hate how ads have taken over the internet. On one hand, I know that hosting a website costs money, right? And ad revenue is one of the simplest ways for free-to-use websites to cover their operating costs.
My question is-- and I would genuinely love an answer-- is this ever going to stop? Tumblr ran for a long time without ads. So did Youtube. I know that the cost of hosting so much media has gone up, but there are a lot of users on these websites that make the content that drives people to use the service that don't see any of the money generated by this revenue. On Youtube, there's at least a way for creators to make some money from what they do. For most, it isn't much, but the opportunity is there. On Tumblr, well... the ability to convert the visibility of my blog into any financial gain practically nonexistent, though they did at one point promise that users would be able to make money from ads run on their blogs (whatever happened to that, Staff?).
"You can pay to avoid seeing ads!" Tumblr says, as if the views on my main blog alone over the past few years have not generated more than enough ad revenue to cover the price they're asking me to pay, the person who is actively making content that brings eyes to their ads.
I'm not mad at Tumblr for hosting ads. I get that it has to happen because it's the easiest way to keep the site free, and honestly, I imagine Tumblr's staunch opposition to monetization has been a real obstacle for the team building Tumblr. But at the same time, it feels like yet another small concession in the usability of the site. I'm tired of ads that auto-play with blaring audio while I'm scrolling. I'm tired of adds that, if I touch them while trying to scroll past them, take me to an external site. Outside of tumblr, I'm tired of looking for information online only to get a webpage that's 95% ads and otherwise illegible. Hell, I recently got an ad on Discord. Was it unobtrusive? Maybe. But it was there, for the first time, and I know that won't be the end.
I know the first reply I'm going to get on this is "use adblock", and yes, that's a solution, but think about how much the landscape for media has changed in just ten years.
Popular forums are basically gone outside of reddit.
Youtube, without Red, is ad hell. You can't watch more than 3-4 minutes of video without getting sent to marketing hell.
Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter-- it's terrible. I firmly believe they've manufactured a worse experience through the implementation of ads to convince you to buy into their premium services.
Just Check out this video of Penguinz0 trying to watch a video on a third-party site.
There's discussion of putting ads into video games.
Remember when games didn't include micro-transactions? Blizzard is charging $70 for one mythic skin. You could almost buy Overwatch 1 twice-over at that price-point.
Influencers make a living by making their lives into advertisements.
Youtube has retaliated against users using ad-block on non-chrome browsers by artificially inflating the load times of it's videos.
What can we do about this? I imagine companies see it as an infinite money hack; users can't stop companies from hosting ads, and the action they could take to voice their displeasure-- leaving the site, using other competitive services-- has been all but obliterated thanks to the homogeneity of popular social media outlets. If someone is truly so incensed about ads, well-- it isn't like they have to engage with them, right? They can enroll in a cheap, auto-renewing service to get rid of ads entirely. Well, wait, the price of premium might just have to go up. Don't worry, it's auto-renewing! You won't even notice it. Oh, no, it's got to go up again, you won't even notice it.
There's no incentive for them to cap this behavior, and no way for us as users to pressure them to do so. We create these spaces; we fill them with color, art, activism, community, and the companies that ride on the tailcoat of the spaces we create tell us to give them more. What comes next?
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Summary: Spencer is a germaphobe. He detests the thought of someone sneezing in his general area. There is an exception, though. He seems to be able to handle his girlfriend's sick day without batting an eye.
Additional Tags: Caretaking Idiots in Love, Domestic Fluff, Sickfic, Spencer Reid Gets a Hug
Previous part (but can be read as one shots) : Magic Hands
Criminal Minds, Dr Spencer Reid Masterlist - here
Spencer Reid naturally has dark patches under his eyes, always had. For the last couple of months, though, the bags that usually accompanied that darkness weren't there any more. He'd been stressed and sleep deprived for most, if not all, of his life up to this point. And recently, he'd been taking care of himself a lot more.
Well, that's not entirely true. Y/N had been taking care of him, and she was doing a better job than he ever had. His girlfriend lavished him with so much love and care and affection that Reid found it hard to believe how happy he was. Life was much easier with Y/N by his side than it had ever been before.
It was weird, this happiness thing, and it was kind of like learning a new language. There was a new vocabulary he used, a new set of rules that he lived by, and he didn't refer to himself as a singular pronoun anymore, no, it was plural. His 'I' had turned into a 'we' now. It was odd but he liked it. A lot. Like, a lot a lot.
One of his favourite things was waking up. That might sound strange but, to Spencer, it was one of the most wonderful things in the universe because he was always woken up with the most giggly kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, and his jaw, or anywhere Y/N wanted to kiss him really. This was the best alarm clock he'd ever had.
He'd never been a morning person and continued not to be, yet Y/N's affection made him less grumpy when he first woke up. He was still grumpy, just a fraction less than before. And if they had enough time to lay in bed and simply snuggle for however long they had left before he had to go to work, his grumpiness would melt away pretty quickly.
So, when he woke up to the annoying ring of his actual alarm one morning, he was unbelievably cranky. His hand reached out to Y/N's side of the bed. She wasn't there. He didn't feel her body at all, and that was weird because Y/N never left their bed without waking him up - if she happened to be awake hours before him, she'd read a book or scroll through her phone until he began to stir - but she had gotten out of bed and was nowhere to be seen in their room.
Wiping his eyes, he got out of bed with a grumble and started the search for his girlfriend. She wasn't in the living room, nor the kitchen or bathroom, and he almost believed she'd started work down in the bakery until he saw that the door to the spare room was nudged open a little. Ever since they'd become a couple, his old room had become more like an office and occasional guest room since he found himself in Y/N's bed every night.
Why was the door open?
The door was soon opened wide to reveal Y/N surrounded by scrunched up tissues, her nose ruby red and the duvet creating a hood over her head as she watched a movie on her laptop. As soon as she noticed him in the doorway, she warned, "I'm sick, lovely. Stay over there."
Germs in general weren't Spencer's favourite thing in the world and Y/N knew that. His heart warmed at the fact she had gone out of her way, or out of their bed rather, to ensure her sudden increase of mucus didn't aggravate his germaphobia.
Yet, this only deepened his need to take care of her because she was so considerate towards him. He desired, no, he needed to do the same for her. If Y/N was in distress in any way, he wanted to help her. So, Spencer moved further into the room. He didn't go fully next to the bed - there was still a solid foot between the two - and seriously weighed up the pros and cons that came from embracing her.
Pro: Makes Y/N feel better and provides her with comfort. Also, it provided Spencer with comfort, and with how grumpy he was, that was needed this morning. He'd get a better picture of how sick she was. And it was possible he could diagnose what was wrong with her in an effort to more effectively care for her.
Cons: Gross. Snot and other mucus. There was a high chance of contracting whatever she had. She could accidentally cough in his face, that was a concern. And, she'd be able to see that he was in a bad mood because she hadn't woken him up, thus resulting in her feeling guilty for his bad mood.
It was a real pickle.
"I'll be okay. Go get ready for work, Spence," Y/N urged. Her words were unheeded as he finally made up his mind and took the leap. And by leap, he meant holding the back of his hand up to her forehead to check how badly she was burning up.
She was burning up. Badly. Really, really badly. Her forehead was like a furnace.
"Oh baby," he cooed.
He made up his mind. She spent so much of her time looking after him, it was about time he did the same for her. Reciprocity is essential in healthy relationships, after all.
"I'm going to call Emily - "
"No, sweetie, I can look after myself - "
"I am looking after you! No arguments."
"But I'm all snotty!"
"No arguments."
A dopey, wide smile erupted from Y/N's face. She knew he loved her. He told her every day. Yet, this proved it. She had witnessed Spencer don protective gloves and a mask when Derek merely coughed in her boyfriend's presence. He was hyper vigilant when it came to avoiding sickness with everyone but her. She was the exception. She was special.
"You really love me, huh?"
Pink overtook his cheeks. He knew she knew that but it still made him a little nervous to hear, like it was still his dirty little secret despite the fact it wasn't much of a secret these days. That's why he was a bit shy when he admitted, "Yeah, I do," and sat beside her on the bed. "Just know I'm going to be super whiny when I inevitably get this."
"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," she jeered, a bit of energy coming back so she could tease him without faltering. And there certainly wasn't any disruption when she professed, "I love you too, Spence."
His big palm smoothed down her hair. "Have you messaged Avery? Or Jonas? -"
"They know. I'm a very good boss."
"Yes, you are, honey," he agreed instantly.
It was true. Y/N was very honest and open when communicating with her employees, whether that was being confused at the memes they'd send in the work group chat or if they should really be playing Ashnikko over the speakers just as the school run rush begins. They were paid well and treated even better. So, he wasn't surprised that Y/N had sorted her sick day already.
"I'm going to the store to pick up some medicine then, I promise, I am yours to use as a pillow for the rest of the day. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect."
With a soft kiss on the forehead, he left to go through his to-do list one by one.
Emily was surprised and delighted that Spencer was asking for a day off rather than having to be forced into one. Admittedly, she would've preferred it if Y/N wasn't sick but, hey, every cloud has a silver lining.
He did go downstairs once he got dressed and poked his head into the shop to check if they needed any assistance but Y/N's employees had it locked down. And since everything was running smoothly, a cream cheese bagel going missing wasn't going to cause a problem.
The trip to the store didn't take too long. He went heavy on the creature comforts - chocolate and coffee was a must - and bought as much flu medicine as he was legally allowed to. He also added way too many heat pads, two hot water bottles with fuzzy covers, ten pairs of fluffy socks so they could mix and match, and an adorable teddy kangaroo that he knew Y/N would love.
Grocery bags filled to the brim, he got home to find that Y/N had hauled herself and the duvet into the living room. She was half asleep and half falling off the sofa so his first point of call after he put the bags down was to kneel beside her and gently push her back on the cushion.
"Hey you," she greeted.
"Hey honey. I see you made it all the way to the couch."
"Uh-huh, got a bigger tv."
"I see you have your priorities in check." His hand darted out to find one of the bags. "Do you want a buddy to watch along with?"
When she nodded, he brought out the stuffed toy and held it out to her. The kangaroo was immediately cuddled close to Y/N's chest and Reid wasn't sure if her eyes were watering because of her sickness or if she was crying.
"Aww, I love this, love you," she choked out, the tears streaming down her face increasing. It was a mix of both, he concluded as he wiped at her cheeks. "You're so nice to me. So sweet."
Y/N's babbling was snotty and nasally and wet but Spencer didn't mind. Weirdly, he thought her emotional outburst was a little cute. It was a gross mess of fluids, yes, yet he knew he was going to be 10x worse when it was his turn.
Even when he wasn't sick, he was prone to getting choked up about how sweet she was to him. Once, all she did was tell him that he was 'Soooooo smart' when they were watching some cheesy game show and he got a trivia question right, and Spencer literally started sniffling at her compliment.
People called him smart every day. He was smart. He knew that. He's a MENSA genius for christ sake. It must've been the way she said it so casually, or maybe it was because it was late at night, or even because Y/N said it with such reverence in her voice. Whatever the case, he knew he was safe and this was a judgement free zone so emotional outbursts were just a thing that happened sometimes, and that was fine.
More and more tears were shed, though Y/N was laughing through them now and it was far more obvious that they were happy tears. Happy, snotty tears.
Medicine was taken, tissues used, scrunched up and thrown in the bin, and soon, Spencer's body was being used as a pillow for his girlfriend, just as he'd offered. Y/N tried her best to keep the fluids inside, but there was no stopping the flow once it began.
10 years ago, this would've been Spencer's worst nightmare.
1) An attractive girl that he was utterly in love with was near to him and he was expected to act normally without turning into a pile of mush and shutting down mentally.
2) She was literally on top of him! That's so much physical contact. He definitely would've shied away from merely holding her hand back then, let alone this.
3) Her snot and tears created a growing wet patch on his shirt, which still would send him into overdrive if it had been anyone else's snot and tears.
"Are you comfortable?" He asked, looking down at her and swiping some hair off her forehead. Y/N nodded, though she did move her legs around a little to get maximum comfort, and her fluffy socked feet brushed against his ankle. "Are you warm? Need more tissues? Is it too bright in here, do you want me to -"
Before he could begin to go through a very long list of things he could do to make her feel better, she gave him a look. People often gave him a certain kind of stare whenever they wanted him to shut up, but he'd never seen one that was fuelled with such softness before.
"Just want you. Don't move, never move." She squished her cheek further against his pec, her fingers fiddling with one of the button's of his cardigan. The tv was on in the background, yet Y/N was mainly paying attention to her boyfriend's breathing. Thanks to her sickness, breathing was a little difficult out of one nostril but she was trying to keep it even.
Spencer only moved a little bit. He wished he had telekinesis so he could psychically move the book he wanted to read off the coffee table to his hand, but alas, he had to disrupt her bubble just a smidge. She groaned her disapproval but was quickly quelled when he scratched the back of her head until her eyes started to droop.
"Spencer?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Read to me? Please?"
His hand reached back onto the table to grab his glasses and place them onto his face, accidentally poking himself in the eye with one of the arms. He let out a low curse before getting his bearings back and assuring Y/N that he hadn't blinded himself. Once he was ready, he began to read aloud.
"On an exceptionally hot early evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked slowly, as though in hesitation, towards K. bridge."
"Book?" she mumbled, already teetering towards sleep.
"Crime and Punishment."
"...Got it."
By the way she said that, he knew she had mentally checked out. It was obvious. It was only two syllables but it had been so muffled with sleep and his shirt that it sounded incoherent. Still, he carried on reading, one hand holding the book and the other caressing up and down her back as she drifted in and out of consciousness.
He continued for the next couple of hours. It was far more therapeutic than he ever expected. There were 2 things he absolutely loved in life - books and Y/N - and he'd joined those two loves together for an extended period of time. Maybe he'd ask Y/N if they could do this, albeit without the illness, more often. Just take a day off work to relax and read together.
Was this the sort of thing Prentiss wanted him to take days off to do? If so, he regrets never taking her up on that offer. Why would he not take this opportunity? He would in the future, he decided at that moment.
Avery, Y/N's employee, made her way up the stairs to check up on Y/N and poked her head in to discover the two on the couch. Spencer stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the sound of the bakery door opening and turned to see his photo being taken.
"You two are cute. Don't look at me like that," Avery argued in a hushed whisper and, yeah, Spencer would have to agree. "Do you need anything?"
"We're good, kid. Thank you."
"See you, Spencer."
Then, Avery left and Spencer was left gazing down at his girlfriend in the silence. He didn't start up where he left off because he was too entranced. If someone asked Y/N if she felt beautiful at that moment, she'd say no. Blocked sinuses. Red flaking skin. A grumbly faltering voice. Shaky, staggered breathing. But to Reid, she was still the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, and ever would see.
"Hi baby," he greeted once her eyes fluttered open. He was already looking at her so softly but, as her lips stretched into a smile, his gaze got impossibly softer. "Hi there, honey."
"You're so handsome," Y/N mumbled back, and although she believed that wholeheartedly, her voice still had that dreamy quality to it that indicated that she had no idea she'd said it out loud. It was merely what was at the front of her subconscious mind, and that fact ensured that Spencer blushed far more than he ever did when she said the exact same thing while fully awake. He couldn't help the giggle that flew from his lips.
"How are you feeling?"
"...Urgh."
"My poor baby." He rested his palm against her jaw and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Does chicken soup sound good? I have my mom's recipe."
"Sounds so good."
Even with the understanding that he needed to get up in order to be able to make her soup, Y/N grumbled when her pillow started to move away from her. She was mostly quelled when Spencer leant down to give her a quick kiss on the forehead and returned the toy kangaroo from where it had fallen off the sofa back into Y/N's arms.
But she didn't stay on the couch for long.
Within 5 minutes, Spencer felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. "Hey baby, I thought you'd fallen back asleep," he commented after hearing her sigh and nuzzle her nose between his shoulders.
"Missed you." The words came out muffled by Spencer's shirt but he knew what had been said, nonetheless.
"Yeah?" he let out.
Having a girlfriend was something that still boggled his big ol' brain, but having a girlfriend who missed his presence when he was 1 room away and had only been absent from her arms for a total of 300 seconds was truly something else entirely.
"You're warm." She pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder blade. "And handsome. Can't help myself."
He snorted as if she had said something unbelievable and turned slightly so she was giving him a side hug instead. One hand stirred the soup and the other wrapped around his girlfriend's waist, keeping her close and comforted by his body heat, whilst he pressed a kiss to her temple and hummed softly to himself.
Now he knew how difficult it was to cook and mix ingredients around with someone clinging onto most of your body. Though, he wouldn't be able to argue that he disliked the feeling of having Y/N attached to him. It was almost as much as he liked being attached to her because he really liked being held by her. And Spencer was sure that whenever he acted like koala and clutched at Y/N whenever she was baking, that she had this same feeling. Sure, it would be easier to move around without the cling on but was it as intimate? As warm? As sweet?
No. No, it wasn't.
Once the soup was perfect, they moved past the dining table and returned to the couch to eat their meal. As she sat next to Spencer with the bowl cupped in both hands, Y/N looked up at him with a content sigh.
"I love you. Thank you for this."
There were many things Spencer could have answered to that declaration. He could've told her, in case she wanted confirmation, that he loved her too. That he cherished her, adored her. That the sight of her sleeping peacefully with a dopey grin on her face warmed his heart so much that sometimes he didn't know whether he was actually alive or dreaming whenever he saw it. However, none of those words came out of his mouth.
"My mom made me this when I had days off from school because of anxiety," he admitted instead with a bashful smile. "Well, when she was lucid enough to do so."
"That was nice of her. I'll have to thank her whenever she comes to visit next."
"My mom really likes you, I think. When she's lucid, she asks for updates about us all the time."
Being liked by Diana Reid was high praise. Y/N got a bright grin on her face at the news, but then fell silent as she took a sip of soup. It was only now that Spencer noticed she was shaking slightly. With his free arm, he gently pulled her closer and rubbed his palm up and down her bicep comfortingly.
"Are you cold?" he inquired worriedly.
"No, I'm okay."
But he wasn't convinced. In an instant, Spencer was darting into their bedroom to find the oversized jumper that she always wore around the house and instructed, "Put your bowl down for me, honey, then arms up." Y/N did as she was told and was rewarded by her boyfriend tugging her jumper over her body and pressing kisses to her hair.
When he pulled away from her again, he asked, "Better?"
Y/N nodded and allowed herself to melt back into the couch with a content little huff as they continued their meal, enjoying each other's company quietly. Spencer would sneak a glance at Y/N every once in a while to check if she was okay and whenever she caught him doing so, he would quickly turn back to his food and pretend nothing had happened. She smiled at him every time he did.
After dinner Spencer thought it would be best to run Y/N a bath. Her fever was better than it had been this morning but she was still shivering and sweating heavily, and he couldn't help himself but worry. As they waited for the bath to fill, Y/N sat on the closed lid of the toilet and was busy picking at the bobbles of her sweatpants, leaning against her boyfriend's side so she didn't slump over.
"Just know I'd give you a really sexy strip tease if I had the energy," Y/N joked, earning a laugh from Spencer that sounded like music to her ears. Her undressing was far from sexy since she had sweat patches and snotty marks and was groaning every time she had to move even the slightest bit.
Nevertheless, Spencer held out his arm for her to hold and she gladly accepted the invitation for his help into the bathtub. The water was perfectly warm and soothing and when she sunk down into the depths of it, Y/N relaxed into the sensation.
"Do you wanna get in?"
"Do you want me to get in?"
"Course I do, but I understand if that's a bit much for you. Baths are basically a germ soup, afterall."
Spencer made a face. "That's a gross way to put it," he complained, yet was quick to add, "You're lucky I like your germs."
He was soon throwing his clothes off and jumping into the bathtub with his girlfriend, inching her forward a little so he could wedge himself between her back and the porcelain. She rested her head back against his chest and sighed contently as he placed kisses on the crown of her head.
"For someone who was so shitty at taking care of himself, you've taken real good care of me," Y/N joked softly, her words coming out as a whisper thanks to how tired she was feeling, but still audible enough that Spencer understood them perfectly. "Thank you, lovely."
"Anytime."
His head tipped downwards to pepper her shoulder blades with feather-light kisses, and although they were small and tender and seemed to tickle her skin, they sent shivers down the length of her spine all the same. Her muscles relaxed and her eyes closed shut as she basked in the feeling of Spencer's touch on her as Y/N began to play with his fingers to ensure she didn't nod off just yet, knowing full well that it would be such a hassle for her boyfriend to carry her completely naked sleeping soaking wet body across their apartment to their bedroom.
It was peaceful. Usually, Spencer didn't stop yapping - he often mumbled in his sleep - yet, at this moment, he was content to keep his mouth shut. Was this what peace is? As someone whose mind is constantly overflowing with everything going on around him, was this what it felt like to be able to sit here and simply think of one thing, or rather, one person.
"Honey?"
"Hmm?" Y/N replied without opening her eyes.
Slowly, he ran his hands along her arms before resting them upon the curve of her hips and squidging until she craned her head back to look at him properly and smiled when their eyes met.
"Kiss?"
"No, baby. I don't want to get you sick."
The corners of his lips upturned even more. "Baby," he parroted back in the exact tone she'd used. "There is a 98% chance that I've already been contaminated with your germs by touching you or, I don't know, the fact that we're sharing bathwater."
A soft chuckle escaped Y/N's lips before she leaned forward to press a kiss onto his cheek. That, however, wasn't enough for him and he hooked his forefinger under her chin to tilt it towards him but as he leant in, she backed he head away.
"I have sick person breath."
"Y/N," he whined. "I don't mind."
"Maybe not in theory but, in practice, it might freak you out."
"Please kiss me? Pretty please? I'm okay with this. I swear."
She hesitated but finally relented and gave him a chaste kiss on the mouth. Once again, that wasn't enough and Spencer chased her lips to extend for another kiss, which she obliged to.
After a few seconds of kissing, Y/N pulled away but only to rest her forehead against his. His hand was still cupping the nape of her neck and his thumb started rubbing in circles in a slow repetitive pattern. This was nice. This was relaxing. Just this little piece of intimacy with her lover was enough to make her feel at ease.
"You're going to be so whiney in a day or two," Y/N teased in a low voice as she traced her finger across his jawline.
"I'm going to be such a baby."
"My baby," Y/N whispered before placing her lips on his.
It was slow and innocent and sweetly romantic as they relaxed in the tub together. Spencer peppered kisses all over her face and her neck, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over her bare shoulders and down her bicep and back up again.
Eventually, though, the warmth of the water started to decrease and so they got out, dried themselves off quickly, and dressed in their pajamas to settle down for the night. Well, evening. Dusk wasn't even upon them yet and the pair were already pulling the duvet back onto their bed from the sofa and snuggling underneath it, facing one another as they spoke in hushed voices.
"Achoo!"
Surprising himself by the sheer volume of his sneeze, Spencer had to give himself a few seconds after to regain his bearings. It was official. He was sick now too, which wasn't the best news in the world but, hey, if the price of making Y/N feel better was a day or two sneezing and sniffling, he'd take it any day of the week.
"I'll go get the medicine," Y/N declared, offering him no time to comprehend what she'd said before she was making her way out of the room. It was as if a switch had flipped. As soon as Spencer seemed even the slightest bit under the weather, whatever illness she was going through was put on the back-burner for a minute so she could care for him.
They would look after each other, they'd decided with the unconscious part of their brains, and if that meant sharing a bottle of ibuprofen, so be it. Y/N came back with the pills, regular bottles of water, and 2 heated water bottles.
"That's why you were gone for so long." (She'd been in the kitchen for just over 5 mins)
"Uh-huh, I was warming up these bad boys." She lightly hit the centre of one of the bottles, squishing the water to ripple across the plastic. "Did you miss me?"
"I missed you so much," Spencer admitted, reaching up to wrap an arm around her waist to pull her flush against him. She giggled as she managed to keep everything she was holding in her grip and not send it tumbling towards his face.
His neediness had kicked back into gear.
Once she'd deposited everything in her hands, they were cradling his head as she got comfy with her knees on either side of his hips. He hummed happily into the contact, and although he was a little disappointed at himself for being a wimp as soon as one simple little sneeze occurred, Spencer just sat there and watched as his sick girlfriend checked his temperature, gave him the pills and water before she took some herself, and made sure he was cosy.
How could he do anything else? He was far too content with watching her. His eyes were round and sparkling like saucers and his lips were pursed in a cute pout like a pet who was looking for attention, and while Spencer tried his hardest not to coo and giggle like a lovestruck fool, he couldn't quite manage to hide how smitten he was.
If he had known that this was what life would be like after falling so deeply in love with Y/N, he would have done it a long time ago. Even when they'd been 'just friends', he'd been aware that she was pretty and kind and perfect for him but had been too blinded by his work, too consumed by his insecurities, too scared to mess up their friendship to admit it to himself.
Jesus, it was crazy to ponder how good his life could've been these past few years. Remembering all of the bad stuff that happened to him, if he'd come to his senses earlier, would that have happened if Y/N was by his side? He assumed that some of it would've gone down the same way but he would've had his girlfriend by his side. Maybe it wouldn't be less mentally taxing but he would've had a shoulder to cry into, he wouldn't have to go through all his trauma by himself, and wouldn't have had to wake up alone every dreary morning.
Perhaps his life would've been a whole lot happier overall.
"Where'd that brain of yours go?" Y/N asked once she noticed that he had zoned out on her and she was now stroking his hair soothingly. She looked at him in amusement as she saw the dopey expression painted across his features and chuckled.
"Hmm? Oh." Spencer shook his head slightly as he returned to the present. "Just... thinking."
"About what?" Y/N playfully poked him in the ribcage.
"You."
He broke out into a gleeful grin and wrapped his arms around her waist to flip them over. Y/N squealed at the surprise burst of energy which suddenly surged throughout him and allowed him to pin her on to the mattress with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Spencer!" Y/N laughed as he planted sloppy kisses along the sides of her face. She reached over to push him away but he easily moved her hands aside and continued his assault. Her face was turning red from all his affection. The tips of her ears. Her cheeks. All around her. And when he pressed his lips firmly against hers once again, she didn't back up because she was concerned with transferring her lurgy.
Since he'd already got it. He was sneezing. He was snotting. And she was sure this hyperactivity was going to deplete whatever remaining energy he had left in no time. Why bother now? Indulging in each other would make them feel better sooner, right? So, yeah. Why not?
Well, the urge to sneeze is hard to resist, you see. Say if your mouth was close to another person's and you couldn't hold the urge at bay, yeah, you'd make what had once been a sweet and lovely embrace into one filled with mucus and betrayal.
Y/N froze in shock. Her face clenched immediately as she felt the onslaught.
"Thanks babe," she mumbled sarcastically as Spencer rushed to wipe away his sneeze with the sleeves of his sleep shirt and to apologise profusely with a string of stammering words leaving his mouth. He was babbling.
"I am so sorry. Saliva can burst from a person’s mouth at nearly a hundred miles an hour and I swear I didn't mean to hit you in the face with germs that fly at the same speed as a Eurasian Hobby. It snuck up on me, okay? It was unintentional-"
"God, I love you."
Weird. If Reid was asked what would happen after he committed an act of biological warfare towards his girlfriend, he never would've guessed that.
"W-why? What? I don't understand."
"You apologised for something that a) you couldn't control, b) was my fault for passing this bug onto you anyway, and c) couldn't stop yourself from blurting out not one but two facts during your apology." She propped herself up onto her elbows. "Would I prefer to not get sneezed on? Yes. But, let's be fair, I am overrun with Spencer Reid's germs so a sudden 'burst' is not going to bother me all that much."
Her words caught Spencer off guard and his eyes widened at her confession. Was it really that simple? That easy? Did she really not mind? Life as a whole is extremely complicated, Spencer Reid's more than most, yet somehow this was perfectly simple. This was calm. This was content. This was happy.
Admittedly, they would've preferred to be disease-free and happy, but hey, you've gotta look for the silver linings.
The pair brushed their teeth, washed their faces and clung to their hot water bottles side by side. Their bed was warm and cosy despite the fact that there were 2 sniffing idiots under the duvet. Though their sickness wasn't comfortable in the slightest, their surroundings and the way they clung to each other was enough to quell them.
And when the morning came, Spencer was as whiny as they'd expected. He awoke with a groan - which wasn't that unusual for him - and immediately spiralled into a coughing fit that woke Y/N up. She huffed in protest against waking up early, but did sit up to gently palm at his back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades until Spencer had calmed down enough to catch his breath.
When his coughs finally subsided, he flopped back onto his pillow, and rolled onto his back with one arm stretched lazily towards Y/N. "We're staying here all day," he concluded matter-of-factly, causing Y/N to smile contently as she shuffled closer on the bed to snuggle into his side.
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I saw someone do a similar thing where reader is dating johnny and uses bi han to make him jealous but there's was online can u do a bi han x fem reader where she tries to make johnny jealous with bi-han at johnnys OWN party and bi han basically kicks Johnny's ass
Pathetic
Prior notes: We can never give this man a break.
Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader
Warning‼️: A little bit of violence
Your relationship with Johnny is…well…it sure is a relationship by definition.
He never has time for you. It’s either obsessing over getting a role in the newest movie, staying relevant on Twitter, or stalking his ex-wife on social media. You don’t know why you still bother being with him at this point. You’re not mad that he still cares about his ex but blatantly ignoring you just to make sure he still has a high follower count is plain rude.
No amount of gifts or luxurious vacations can make you forget how shitty this relationship is. Forget about communicating with him. You told him a number of times how you just want to go on a simple date or spend the night together, but it always turns into this elaborate date night that would be a great post for Instagram. It’s tiring. It’s draining. It’s not what you want. You want better.
That does it! You did every healthy option that you were told and knew. You’re gonna have to manipulate the situation a little. Johnny is having a party at his mansion tomorrow, work with that. You might find yourself a better bachelor to enjoy.
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
Bi-Han was not keen on coming to Johnny’s party but Tomas so badly wanted to go. Kuai Liang did not want his younger brother to get into any trouble at the party so he dragged Bi-Han to come with them. Plus, it was probably a good time to make Bi-Han apologize for breaking Johnny’s Hichuli. It was one of a kind after all.
The place was blaring with music and reeked of vodka with a hint of boxed wine. This was definitely not his scene. He just stepped into the mansion and he already wanted to go home. He told Tomas they would only stay for an hour or two so he better make the most of it. Oh and don’t even try to touch the alcohol because it’s not the best quality. Not even the vodka. It’s not Tito’s so it’s shit.
Bi-Han walked over to a secluded corner of the mansion where he plopped down on the couch. He sat there, scowling at everyone with his arms crossed. Kuai Liang told him to fix his face since he was freaking people out. That’s exactly the point. He doesn’t want anyone around him or even try to bother him.
But you? Oh, you’re trying to poke the bear. Trying to poke two bears with the shit you’re about to pull.
You eyed Bi-Han from a distance. Ever since he first walked in you knew he would be your target. His strong facial features, that stance that radiated superiority and dominance, those muscles…good heavens…you were missing out. You had no idea how Johnny knew him but it didn’t matter. You were just happy that you had the chance to lay your eyes upon him. The way he sat enticed you. Legs that were slightly spread as his arms were folded, giving you another opportunity to see just how large his muscles are.
You totally forgot your objective. You’re trying to make Johnny jealous, not find yourself another boyfriend. You just want Johnny to pay attention to you again. Well, if it doesn’t work out, you at least know you have your eyes on someone else.
You walked over to Bi-Han, ignoring his aggressive stare. He was hoping you would turn away soon and not approach him but that clearly wouldn’t happen. You sat down beside him. Damn, he was even more handsome up close.
“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, stranger. What’s with that grumpy face?” You teased
He groaned while turning his head away from you. First try didn’t hit the mark. It’s okay, try again.
“Aww don’t be shy. I’m not trying to upset you. I’m only trying to be nice. You seemed lonely over here.” You started poking his bicep to tease him more.
“I prefer to be alone. There is no reason you should be here. Go back to drinking with the other imbeciles.”
“Do you see a cup in my hand? I don’t want to drink. I don’t even wanna be at this party.” You sighed in annoyance.
Bi-Han cocked his eyebrow up in interest. He was unsure if you were lying or not. Seeing your expression, however, told him that you were telling the truth. You seem bothered. He doesn’t want to care but he’s curious. Why would a pretty girl like you be so turned off by a party?
“Why are you here then?” He asked.
“My stupid boyfriend keeps throwing parties just to keep his social status up. Or maybe to make his ex jealous. I don’t even know anymore.”
Well, at least he knows who you are now. Johnny never said a word about you to anyone which let him know how you must be feeling. Poor thing, you must be deprived of many things. Bi-Han already had a grudge against Johnny from their first encounter. But getting an idea of how he was treating you just by what you said made him hate the guy even more.
You were surprised to feel Bi-Han’s arm slowly wrap around your shoulders and pull you in closer. Your plan seems to be going well. Except you forgot your goal again. You were more focused on how your body was pressed up against his. He wasn’t looking at you since he was somewhat embarrassed that he was caring at all. But you seem like a nice girl so he can take some time to give you what Johnny couldn’t. He can give you attention.
Maybe he’ll extend their visit to three hours.
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
Things happen, that’s all I gotta say.
You somehow ended up on Bi-Han’s lap with your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs draped over his legs. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist while the other held onto your thighs.
You went on and on about your lackluster relationship with Johnny. Of course, you would switch topics occasionally, talking about your hobbies which Johnny would never pay any mind to. Bi-Han sat there and listened to what you were saying. Though he did get distracted occasionally by your thighs that he would occasionally squeeze or how close your chest was to his face.
Johnny was going around, asking people if they had seen you. He walked through the crowd while calling your name. Finally he spotted you…on Bi-Han’s lap. He was shocked. This anger inside Johnny started rising up inside him. First Bi-Han comes to his mansion and destroys his Hichuli. Now he is trying to steal his girl! Fuck that!
Johnny came stomping over, yelling at you to get off his lap. It’s been five hours and only now Johnny thought about checking up on you. You two start arguing loudly. You told him you’ll get off when you feel like it. He told you to get off right this moment. The arguing was bringing the party to a halt, causing everyone to turn their heads towards you. Shit, they didn’t even know he was dating you. Bi-Han was not happy about the attention that was being turned towards this direction.
Johnny yanked you off Bi-Han’s lap while quickly pissed him off. He stood up quickly while glaring at Johnny for putting his hands on you. Johnny turned his attention to Bi-Han.
“You come into my mansion, break my stuff, then try to steal my girl? You know what, fuck yo—”
BAM! Bi-Han punched Johnny right in the face. It disoriented him immediately which allowed Bi-Han to kick him right in the face, sending him sliding across the floor. Straight to sleep, man was knocked out. You stood there in shock yet you were also impressed. It only took two hits and Johnny was down. He was sober as well so this wasn’t a drunk blackout.
“I expected better from you, Cage. I see it was foolish of me to set the bar so high,” Bi-Han berated him, “Kuai Liang! Grab Tomas, we are leaving.”
Kuai Liang quickly grabbed Tomas who was stumbling a bit. He was slurring his words while saying “I’m so happy you are my brothers” and “I’m sorry I drank that. It tasted like juice.” Before they left Bi-Han turned towards you and motioned for you to come. You pointed at yourself in confusion.
“Do you wish to stay with him?” He asked.
You glanced at Johnny who was still on the ground. Nah, you’ll go. You could go for a stronger man. Good riddance Johnny, hellooooooo Bi-Han.
After notes: This is the first time I’ve actually written on my laptop and then transferred it over here. I was using Notes before and imma be honest I think my notes app is ready to die. It’s just a bunch of fanfic in there and lists of analog horror series and kaijus. I hope i understood what you meant because I had to reread it multiple times to get it. I think it’s a me problem. Adiós!
#mortal kombat#mk1#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat1#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat x you#mk x reader#mk x you#mk fanfic#bi han x you#bi han x reader#bi han mk#bi han sub zero#bi han mortal kombat#mortal kombat bi han#bi han#sub zero x you#sub zero x reader#sub zero mk1#sub zero
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that soapprice reblog omg... it literally inspired me to send an ask bc i was thinking about it and then saw it as a sign
this is random but what do you think are big things that the boys are into? even though it's super common i'm a total sucker for price being called daddy, and i remember the joke he made about it earlier in the series and i was 🤭🤭 the whole time, or also as mentioned in the fic i'm a big fan of soap and his hair being pulled
urgh soapprice soapprice soapprice!!! they're such an underrated pairing, and they're literally my favourite characters ☹️ (and graves but we don't talk about that)
anyways pook, how are you?? i hope all is well!!
- 🪐
Soapprice is such an underrated pairing. I feel like it was more popular in the fandom whith the OGs, but it definitely has been neglected with the reboots. They're all just so special to me though 🥺
Hmm are we talking like kinks here? That's what I'm going with.
I think Price does enjoy being called daddy, though I don't see him as being the type to ask you to say it. He's into it, but he wants you to say it first on your own. He's definitely more dominant, but I could see him giving over control every so often. Like if a mission goes wrong or something happens he doesn't want to be in control anymore for a while. I could also see him being into bondage/shibari. He likes the trust you have to have in each other and he also just likes seeing you tied up. Definitely a brat tamer. He'll bend you over his knee and spank you if you misbehave. Edges you if you're especially naughty.
Johnny likes having his hair pulled, that's a given. Please degrade him. Step on him, call him a naughty boy. He also has a huge praise kink. Giving, receiving, he loves it. He's definitely the most likely to experiment. You want to try something? He's down. He's not about to be out-kinked because that man is super competitive. He's definitely into role play. Dressing up, acting out scenes. All of it. He's definitely made you play hostage so he can "rescue" you and then get thanked for saving you 😉 I could also see him being an exhibitionist. If his partner is okay with it, he'll definitely let people watch him blow their back out. His neighbors hate him lol.
Kyle, my sweet baby boy Kyle. We all know he's a munch. Sit on his face and let him eat your pussy until you can't hold yourself up. He'll just lay you on your back and continue. Will wake you up with his head between your legs if you give him permission. Gets off by giving you pleasure. He also likely has a praise kink. Tell him how pretty he is and he'll be putty in your hands. He'll blindfold you and edge you. He loves the way your legs shake and you beg for release. He'd probably be into overstimulation, for both of you as well. Please, for the love of all things holy peg him. Will also bend you over his knee and spank you if you ask him. I feel like he'd be willing to try more extreme things if you want to, but I don't think he'd be quite as enthusiastic about it as Johnny. Aftercare king. That's self explanatory.
Simon, contrary to popular belief, I don't see being much into kinks. I think it takes so long for him to get to the point just to be naked with you, the last thing he'd want is to take any risks. He causes enough pain in his day to day life that he just wants to fall into your arms and be held. Is cuddling a kink? If so then that's his kink lol. He might get rough with you in bed if you ask him, once that trust has been established, but you're definitely going to have to reassure him for hours after that you're alright. I think if you're together with him long enough, and that trust has been well established, you might be able to convince him to try some softer things, but he's definitely checking in and making sure you're alright and you're comfortable constantly. Consent is his kink is the energy he gives off.
#these are less related to my fic since things are different in that context and more just in general the vibes they give off lol#i'm doing alright#kind of sleepy after a long day#might take a nap for a bit#how are you??#how has your day been?#answered
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Hi! A bit of a weird ask here, hope you don't mind. (I swear it's not meant in bad faith)
So, I'm new to the fandom. I'd wanted to watch the show for a while and I finally found time. I did like it, and all the characters, esp Hen and Buck.
Even previous to watching it, I had seen many posts about Buddie. I didn't think much of it until I watched the show. And now I can say... I don't see it. Like, from Buck's side? Sure. But from Eddie's? Not so much.
They both clearly act like Christopher's co-parents a lot, and that's where I'm like "oh, maybe there IS something". But outside of that, I actually see their interactions as mostly platonic. And when I see people talk about it, I see mostly about how Eddie completely trusts Buck with his son (which I agree with and makes a good point), but not much else.
So, what am I missing? Sometimes some characters are harder for me to "read", so I know there could be stuff that I'm missing. What interactions do you see from them that are so clearly romantic (at least more so than they are platonic)? In which ways do you see Eddie showing feelings for Buck?
Sorry about such a long ask. This might be more of a rant (oops). I just really want to understand, bc everyone's so sure... and I'm not. (Also, thanks for reading if you got this far)
So i’m obviously not going to tell you thst your interpretation is wrong- art is subjective and your interpretation of things is completely valid.
that being said, to me i see myself in eddie in a lot of ways:
- only son in the family, so i had unrealistic expectations fixed on me about what my life as a “man” should look like (im not a man, im nonbinary but i was still amab so to my parents i’ve always been a ‘man’)
- raised in a very religious household where there were certain expectations on who i would one day marry and have a family with (because not getting married at all and never having kids was out of the question)
- i was repressed for years emotionally (and sexually) due to pressure from my parents/church and thought there was something “wrong” with me for the feelings i felt
- i often revert to anger as my default defense mechanism because i have repressed my emotions for so long (which is something i am working through in therapy)
so seeing those things i relate to reflected in eddie, it is easy for me to pick up on subtext (whether intentional or not) when it comes to his sexuality/feelings for Buck.
you mentioned eddie trusting buck with christopher— to me this is one of the clearest examples of eddie’s true feelings for buck because he completely trusts the most precious thing in his life with Buck, but he has never even come close to that same kind of trust with any of his romantic partners… even shannon he was apprehensive about letting her back into chris’s life. this means he trusts buck on a level he has never trusted anyone else before— and not to get into psychology, but often when people are repressed emotionally, they find ways to feed those feelings without overtly feeding them if that makes sense. so eddie giving chris (who is practically his whole heart) to buck is essentially eddie offering up his heart on a platter.
so that gets that one out of the way.
as for other examples… i am going to state again that eddie is more repressed than buck and doesn’t show emotion as easily as buck does so Buck’s attraction/feelings are going to be more clear-cut and obvious.
but i am constantly seeing examples of eddie’s feelings for buck interwoven subtly through things:
- crying over buck after the lightning strike when we had only ever seen him cry twice before
- the hurt in his face when buck said natalia was the only person who “saw” him
- the way that he gets overly jealous and acts petty around buck’s romantic partners (the most egregious being Taylor, but we have seen it happen in his other relationships as well)
- the fact that he has never been able to fully allow himself to have feelings for the women he’s dated
- he is looking for a mother figure (second parental unit for chris) but has already effectively filled that role with buck
- he is constantly looking at buck like he hung the stars and the sun and the moon
- he has only started going off the deep end of this fixation with shannon after buck came out to him, and he is onyl actively remembering their relationship as what he wished it had been rather than what it was— something i used to do back when i was still in denial about my sexuality was imagining this dream life where i was happily married to a woman because that is what i was supposed to want, not because it’s what i actually wanted
- eddie is the only one who has shown he understands buck’s recklessness is less him being reckless/thinking he’s unbreakable, but that it’s actually buck seeing himself as invaluable enough that getting hurt wouldn’t affect anyone around him
- one of my favorite scenes is post lightning-strike when eddie climbed the ladder and instead of trying to lower buck to the ground immediately, he initially tries to pull buck closer to him while screaming for him
the list could go on and on and if anyone else wants to leave their observations on eddie’s feelings for buck in the replies by all means please do! but these are just a few ways in which i have personally seen eddie’s devotion to buck portrayed in a light that is much deeper than a platonic level.
i hope this made sense and offers a new perspective for you, and i’m glad that even though you haven’t seen enough evidence in your own interpretation, your first instinct isn’t to jump down people’s throats to tell them they are wrong, but instead reaching out and asking for other opinions to better contextualize why us buddie shippers are so invested in these two!
(and never apologize for a long ask to me… if there’s one thing about me i love to yap lmao)
i hope you have a lovely day, anon!! 💕💕
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🄱🄻🄴🅂🅂🄴🄳 // 🇳🇦🇹🇪 🇯🇦🇨🇴🇧🇸.
Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. 🍃.
Part 1 : Whiplash
Part 2 : 9 Lives
You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.
Tiny glimpse into his mind because why not?
Desc. : "His hand, so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face."
═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════
It's not like Nate even knew you.
You just so happened to be the secret to his success, and maybe, perhaps his new obsession.
No biggie.
I mean, whole of the first week of spring break, he didn't text you, you didn't text him, and it was all great and normal.
Pissed him off to no end, because how the hell did you recover so quickly from having a fucking gun in your throat? But, hey, whatever. Maybe you were just that goddamn weird.
The second - and last - week of spring break was when shit got intense.
Because he thought about you.
He realized he hadn't even fucking seen you around town the entirety of it, and that might have freaked him out, just a little.
He worried, you see? Yes, only about his games, and his college apps, but now, all of them had been tied to you, with a pretty little bow around them.
So obviously, now he worried about you.
So, obviously, he needed to find out just where the hell your lucky ass had gone.
He narrowed it down to two options. Both perfectly reasonable, of course.
One, you just had tons of work and stayed indoors.
Two, you had been kidnapped and murdered by the opposing teams because they'd found out about your miracle-working.
See? Perfectly reasonable.
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It was a happy surprise to learn that you were basically closer to his house than you'd ever been before, after you'd taken up a job at the local supermarket.
Well, happy for him.
For you, it was more of a you-were-seriously-contemplating-suicide surprise.
"You listen to Elvis Presley?", he asked, dropping his purchase down on the counter. Your eyes never moved to it, and stayed on his.
That was one thing he noticed about you.
You were always observing, as if he were a rabid animal that would strike at any moment. As if he would reveal his sinister intentions to you within enough time for you to react.
"What?"
He nodded at the speakers on the wall around the establishment. "Those connected to your Spotify?"
You didn't want to answer unless you knew whether he was about to compliment or mock you.
"Sir, I think you should leave."
God fucking damn it. Why had he never thought about the fact that you wouldn't - (and couldn't)- call him a motherfucker at your workplace? His joy knew no bounds.
"That's so hot. Say it again."
You'd 100% expected that. It was clear on your face.
"There's other people behind you with more items to check out."
He swiveled his head around for a moment.
Old lady. Sometimes he wished he wasn't raised right.
He sighed, nodding. "I'm next up, though.", he warned sternly, pointing at you as he gestured for her to pass him by.
The old lady patted him on the shoulder and smiled, moving ahead with her purchase of an unholy amount of bread and cheese.
And what's worse?
She had coupons.
Way too many for Nate to stand smiling like a good boy behind her as she dug into her purse and fished out probably decades worth of them.
"Yes, dear, so just run all these."
"Uh, ma'am, I wish I could, but most of these are expired."
Thank god.
"Oh, well, you said most. Let's just sort through them and find the ones that aren't expired."
Would it be homicide to kill her? She didn't really have too long to live, anyway. He couldn't say he hadn't thought about it.
"Uh, okay, yeah, sure."
"This'll just take a minute, sweetie.", she whispered to Nate, pinching his cheek as if that would make time go by faster.
"How about I pay for you, ma'am? If that's alright?"
If he'd been allowed access to your mind, you'd never live it down, because you almost thanked him right then and there.
"Oh, there's no need for that, dear, I can-"
"No, please, I insist. It would be my pleasure."
"What a sweet boy."
Both her and Nate decided to ignore the derisive snort that came out of you as you swiped his card.
"Here you go, ma'am.", you smiled, placing the copious amounts of cheese into the bag, then stuffing the bread in, too. "Anything else?"
"Oh, no, that's it for me. God bless you, dear. Both of you."
Watching her walk out, he began to genuinely wonder if this absurd purchase was all part of some scheme some criminal had put up to steal without your knowledge.
"You hear that? We're blessed, you and me."
"Do you actually have anything to buy?"
"Of course I do. I'm not a creepy stalker.", he hissed, slamming his palm down in front of you. Slowly, he lifted it to reveal a stack of eleven condoms.
Oh, yeah, you were blessed with this fuckass' presence.
You sucked your teeth as your gaze traipsed from the condoms up to his eyes. One of them winked.
"Is that all?"
"Oh, come on, you're not even curious why I have them?"
"Probably for the dozens of bitches you're getting.", you scoffed, ringing it up. "$15.99."
"For eleven individual condoms?!"
You shrugged. "Inflation."
"Oh, they better inflate for the amount of money I'm spending."
He rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself as he pulled out the money from his wallet, instead of his card. "Fucking old lady with her bread and cheese."
"You maxed your card?"
"Yeah. Why do people buy so much shit they're barely ever going to use?"
"Like you with your condoms?"
Ah. Nate could've absolutely lost his shit laughing right there- you did care.
"I'm going to use it all. Trust me."
How many times was he going to use the phrase 'trust me' on you until he realized the meaning had eroded away into nothingness between you two? Probably a dozen more.
"Sure. Thanks for shopping with us. Have a great day."
He pouted, stuffing the packets into his pocket as he raised a brow. "You don't sound like you mean it."
"Nate-"
"And why are you even working here, anyway? Oh, shit, is it 'cause I cost you your internship with your perv boss?"
If he felt bad, the grin on his face wasn't really screaming guilt.
"No, fuckass, this is my friend's store, he just wanted someone to help him out for a couple hours."
"Whoa, wait, what happened to Sir? I liked that better."
That was a lie. He fucking loved it.
"Please, Nate. Stop."
"One condition."
There it was. It no longer seemed like he saw you as anything more than a boredom buster. Sudoku, or a crossword, basically. That was you to him.
"Answer one question, truthfully, and I'll leave this... otherwise empty store right after."
"I'm listening."
God, that's all he fucking wanted to hear, and it was oddly exciting. He could literally say anything, and you wouldn't block him out.
"What would you do if I told you that I have a body in my car right now?"
"What?"
"A body. A dead body. It's in my trunk. Right now. What would you say? What's your next move?"
It's like he expected you not to notice the fact that he was tracing shapes on your arm as he spoke.
"Cops."
At this point, even if he wasn't bluffing, you'd still have reacted so nonchalantly. Because it was all in all tiring to continue to play whatever twisted game he was playing.
"They're not an option. It's either silence or help me. Would you help me hide it?"
"Nate, did you kill someone?"
"No."
"Then why even ask?!"
"It's a hypothetical."
"No, probably not."
He tsked, looking away for a moment. "Wrong answer."
"Well, it's my answer."
He brought his fingers up to your face, and your slight flinch meant absolutely nothing to him. Imaginary hearts now plagued your skin. "Change it."
"My answer? No."
"Please."
"Nate, did you kill someone?", you asked once more, praying for an actual answer this time, be it in the negative or the positive.
He smirked.
"Thanks for the condoms.", he whispered, grinning as he gave your cheek a light pat - that was dangerously bordering on a slap.
Would your trunk be big enough to fit his body? You thought about it the rest of the day.
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His fingers rapped on his dashboard as he watched his phone, set down on speaker on the dashboard, too. Pick up, pick up, pick up.
"Hello?"
Yes. He'd never been this happy to hear someone's voice, and it kinda freaked him out. Okay, whatever. Not important.
"Y/N."
"Who is this?"
"The guy you broke all the rules with before spring break? Made out with on the bleachers?"
"You need to be more specific."
"You better be kidding."
"Of course I am." He had never felt more relieved to hear your stupid ass laugh. "What do you want? I'm not helping you hide a body."
He debated just asking you where you'd been all this time, why you hadn't shown up to a single party or hangout, but he decided he'd just outright ask the real question he needed answered.
"Which one's your window?"
A pause. "What?"
"The one with red or yellow curtains?"
"Nate."
"Red or yellow, babe?"
"Red." Good. You'd gotten so used to him that you didn't waste time pointing out the obvious by asking 'are you outside my house?!'.
"You sure it's not yellow?"
"That's my parents' room."
"Yellow looks more tempting.", he teased, as he shut the car door.
"I'm not messing around."
"Neither am I. Yellow it is."
"Nate!"
This was far too precious to him. You were actually worried. How cute.
The fact that he had to climb up wasn't really making him jump in joy, but he figured you'd enjoy that little touch of vintage chivalry.
Like fucking Rapunzel.
He tapped on your window once.
No answer. Don't fucking play around right now.
He knocked once more.
He was met with your extremely delightful glare as you slid your window up, watching him closely.
"Hey."
"Dude, you-"
"Shh, shh, shh. Let me in.", he mumbled, crouching to cram himself through, his hand still resting on the top of the pane.
"You're insane."
Immediately grabbing your face after he steadied himself, he hissed through gritted teeth, "Where the hell have you been?"
"What?"
"I didn't see you at all before today!"
"Yeah, we got a lot of work to do over spring break."
"This is why you don't take psychology, because you get stupid amounts of homework even during the holidays.", he muttered, as if he'd warned you about this eons ago.
"What do you want?"
"Party. You. Me. Now. Get dressed."
He almost punched you when you started laughing.
"You actually do have a sense of humour, Nate, good for you."
"I'm not kidding. Come on."
"No way in hell."
"You know what? No need to get dressed. You look great. Just come on. Live a little."
"You've already taken me to 'live a little' before, and I ended up shitfaced with a gun in my throat at school at 12:30 am."
Good. So you hadn't gotten over that. He didn't care if he was being sadistic - he was glad.
He sighed, flopping down onto your bed and ignoring the second glare to come from you that night. "This is so typically a teenage girl's bedroom."
He had no clue what he was saying, at this point. But he knew he was itching for a reaction, a reason for you to hit him again, so he could grab you and shut you up. He craved the conflict.
"Surprising, considering that's what I am."
"I mean, the band posters? Really?", he huffed, pointing around at your room as if he was giving you a tour of it.
"Have you even listened to Queen? Presley? Any of the oldies?"
The match was found. Time to light it.
"So the shitty music in the store was connected to your playlist.", he chuckled, shaking his head. "No wonder that old lady was so nice to you. She thought you were one of her Bingo buddies."
It was just a question of how long you could stand him sitting on your bed, disrespecting your music taste.
"If you're only here to invite me to a party, I'm sorry, I'm not coming."
"How would your family like me hanging out here?", he mused, tilting his head. You know, the one you'd probably love to bash into the pavement given a chance? That head.
You were so fucking hot when you were pissed, it was unbelievable to him. He could sense it, the anger.
The smell of your rage made him want to riot.
"You can't keep blackmailing me into doing what you want."
"Alright, fine."
Your uncomfortable frown made him snicker. "What's that look?"
"This is usually the part where you self-harm and tell me I'm being a bitch for not bending to your will."
"Tonight's different."
"Why?"
Because I'm going to unwrap every fucking secret of yours.
He shrugged, the corners of his lips curling downwards. "I don't want to."
"So, you'll leave?"
"I didn't say that.", he trailed off, watching you sit down on the chair across from your bed. "Let's just chill."
"Nate, when have you and I ever chilled?"
He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes at you, before giving you a sly smirk. His fingers emerged from his pocket as he pulled out a packet of pre-rolleds. "Right now."
"You're kidding."
"C'mon. Don't be a pussy."
"They'll smell it."
He lolled his head over to the door. "No, they won't. You're two floors up." He shifted to one side, patting the space next to him. "Come on, Y/N, don't end your badass streak so quickly."
His eyes followed you as you sat down gingerly, rubbing your forehead like he was causing you a genuine migraine. That's funny, she hasn't even seen me high, yet, (and she won't).
"Why do I let you do this?"
"Million dollar question if I ever heard one.", he scoffs, fumbling around his person for a lighter. He found it, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it, causing his next catastrophic words to come out a mumble. "But I'm glad you do."
He continued to watch your eyes change from frustration to mild fascination, to hesitation all in one second, as he puffed out through his teeth. "Fuck.", he groaned, handing it to you.
"I don't know about this."
"You think they'd like me?", he mused, looking at the door, and then back at you. "I'm known to make a good impression with parents."
"The no-blackmail thing didn't last long.", you huffed, taking it from him. Nate almost made out with you right then and there, the way your lips wrapped around it as if they were made only for him.
"Didn't want to break tradition.", he snorted as you coughed and sputtered, handing it back to him quickly.
"Gross."
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The last thing he'd expected from that evening was actually staying. He'd thought he'd get you stoned, you'd pass out, and he'd leave.
But here you were.
Next to him.
Freaking him the hell out.
He looked down at his watch. 2 AM. Fuck.
"I gotta go."
"You've been saying that for the past three hours."
Shut up. "Eh, well, it's not like my parents are worried."
"Why not?"
"They know I can handle myself."
"Right, because I'm such a threat."
"God, no. They'd love you." He shook his head subtly, grinning as you nudged his face playfully with your foot from across the bed. "You should come over, sometime."
"I'm not coming over, Nate."
The weed made sure you didn't push him away when he gently grabbed your leg. "Why not?"
"Because we're not friends. There's no reason for me to meet your parents."
"I just think it's right that you get to judge my room, too.", he muttered, lips on your ankle like it was his life support. "You know, justice or whatever."
"It's probably all monocoloured, plain, boring crap."
"Only one way to find out.", he teased.
He despised the silence that followed. High-you wasn't exactly chatty, it seemed.
"Tell me something about you."
"Like what?"
He shrugged. "Anything."
"This is my first time smoking weed."
"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart."
"You didn't ask for a secret."
"Now I am. Tell me a secret."
"I hate football."
You were more resilient than he thought, seeing as you'd smoked three cigarettes already, and the most you'd given him was your sports preferences.
But he'd take what he got.
"Because of me?"
"No, just generally."
"But you came to games.", he countered.
"Because of Maddy."
"You guys are close?"
You nodded, stirring slightly as you looked out your window. "Mhm."
"So she told you." Shit.
You tilted your head, sitting up as he gripped your calf, moving closer and placing kisses on your knee, too. "About?"
Well, if you didn't already know, no need to tell you.
"To come to the games."
"Oh. Yeah."
Nice save, Jacobs.
"I guess now I owe you a secret, huh?"
"I guess you do."
"You're not gonna like it.", he murmured, lazily tracing even more shapes on your knee, while his other hand had trailed up to your arm. "But I love your lips."
He smiled when the corners of your eyes crinkled up and you burst into a fit of giggles. "What?"
"It's true. They're perfect."
"God, I love weed."
You would, seeing as you smoked more of it than he did. Enough to kind of make him feel slightly guilty.
"It's not just the weed saying this.", he continued, shaking his head. "I'd fight wars for those lips. For you."
He shouldn't have liked the fading of your laugh so much, the slight trepidation brewing on your face, either, but for some reason, he did. "Nate, I'm not... I don't wanna-"
"Be fought for? Why not?"
He took the silence as a cue to brush his finger against your cupid's bow. "You don't think you deserve it?"
He watched your lips move under his finger as you shook your head, side to side. "Well, I do. And, guess what?"
"What?"
"I got another question for you."
Your frown was your response.
"Why didn't you push me away when I kissed you that night on the bleachers?" He knew the answer. Of course he did.
"I was drunk."
"Yeah, see, you weren't that drunk.", he taunted. But no, you were. He'd given you basically one and a half bottles. Just like tonight, taking barely ten puffs while you took thrice as much. You just hadn't noticed.
"I don't know, then."
"I just think that if you didn't push me away, it can't have been the terrible experience you made it out to be, in the car."
"What do you want to hear, Nate?"
"That you want to do it again. 'Cause you do. Don't you?"
"I don't."
"Yes, you do. If you could see your own eyes right now, you'd agree."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
He waited for a reaction, a scoff, an eye roll, anything, but you just looked back at him, and then down at the hand he was holding. Oh, it was the weed.
So he took matters into his own hands. No. He took you into his own hands, tracing the gap between your lips with his tongue before he pushed it in.
Your lips were war-worthy, just like before. But this time, something was different. This time, you kissed back.
There we go.
His hands ran over your back as though he were splaying a huge deck of cards across a table, and he came to the grave realization that maybe, just maybe, he was no longer doing this just for a reaction.
"Come here.", he murmured, making up for his lack of oxygen by trying to steal yours as he pulled you onto him. How Shane Crestin hadn't killed himself over the fact that he'd fumbled this bag, he'd never know. Loser.
His hands slipped under your shirt. Wrong move, seeing as you pulled away. "No."
Wasn't weed supposed to last longer?
"What?"
"I'm not... no."
"You seemed into it, like a moment ago. Face it : you want this. No amount of bullshit self-respect or whatever you wanna call it, is going to change that.", he responded, coolly, as he took a drag from the blunt, his lips immediately feeling the lack of yours.
"You're just trying to get back at Maddy."
God, he wished that were true. Would make much more sense.
He sighed, his forehead on yours. "I'm not, but you're not going to believe me.", he mumbled, watching you get off him and move back to the other side of the bed.
Oceans away. Too fucking far.
"I'm sorry." There was something he hadn't said in a while. "For, like, everything."
"Why am I so fucking important to you? If I just showed up to every game for you, would you leave me the fuck alone? No, you wouldn't, because you sought me out during spring break! Am I just an easy target?"
No. "I don't... I don't fucking know, okay? You just are."
"Is it 'cause you hate me?", you questioned, so quietly that he had to debate whether to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness or actually kill himself in guilt for eliciting it.
"What?"
"Do you hate me?"
"For what?" He had no fucking clue what this could be about. Every single thing he'd done so far indicated the opposite. But he didn't want to let himself go there.
"Being your good luck charm."
Oh. He had to think about that one. "No. It would be weird if it was someone else."
"I just mean... it must be frustrating, when you need someone, and they might not always be there."
"But you will, right? Be there?"
"You scare me, Nate."
He scoffed, slightly, rolling his eyes. "You're unbelievable. Why? Gimme one reason - a real one - why you're scared of me."
"You're violent."
Okay, he was hoping you'd give an invalid one.
"I like beating people up.", he shrugged. "But never for no reason."
"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart. And anyway, it's not only the beating up that you like."
"Hm?"
"You like getting beat up, too."
Remind him never to give you weed again.
"Why would I-"
"On some level, you feel like you deserve it.", you replied, shrugging as you took a long puff of the miracle weed that apparently made you unreasonably perceptive.
Okay, confirmed, not even the word weed would be mentioned around you anymore.
"You think I deserve it?"
"Mostly, yeah. But not... all the time."
"How do you know so much?", he asked, watching your fingers get lost in your hair. He couldn't afford eye contact.
"Psychology."
"See? You shouldn't have taken it. It's creepy."
You sighed, smiling as you looked up at the ceiling. "Sorry."
He did not expect you to back down, that was for sure.
"It's fine. Never giving you weed again, though."
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It actually took until the very last day of spring break for him to catch up with you again. Not like he was pissed that you pushed him away, or anything. Or that he was confused about the entire interaction in the bedroom of someone who, until three weeks ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead talking to. He was just busy. Sure. Let's go with that.
"Hey."
"Not now, Nate."
"What is your problem?" Wait, no. That kinda talk was why you were pissed at him. "Look, we should start over."
God, he sounded like a cunt. This was definitely something that pathetic Shane Crestin would say. Ew.
"Okay. Can you start by going over there?", you asked, restocking the shelves with whatever bullshit condiment you had to.
"I'm an ass. I'm a jerk, I'm- I'm a dick."
You were silent for a moment, before you added: "A small one, too."
He sighed, beaming with relief. "A small one, too.", he agreed, nodding. "I'm just here to ask you over to dinner. My house. I'll even cook."
Dude, if you didn't agree, he'd actually fucking kill you.
"No way you cook."
"Only one way to find out."
He saw the falling apart. The gradual breaking down. The glacier was melting. "I'll listen to Queen or whatever, with you."
The quiet was taunting him, but you came to his rescue. "No steak."
"No steak."
Yes. Fucking yes.
#if you don't think queen rocks i'm glad i don't know you#the shane crestin beef is real#nate euphoria#euphoria x reader#euphoria#nate jacobs x y/n#nate jacobs x you#nate jacobs#nate jacobs x reader#nate jacobs fic#nate jacobs fanfic#euphoria fic#euphoria imagine#nate jacobs imagine#euphoria x you#nate jacobs fluff#euphoria fluff#euphoria dialogue#nate jacobs blurb#nate jacobs imagines#nate jacobs oneshot#nate jacobs hc#nate jacobs drabble#nate jacobs fanfiction#euphoria smut#nate jacobs smut
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Little White Lies
I'm finally back after the computer mishap with a brand new laptop and quite some prompts waiting for me. This is the first of many, I'm sure. I hope you enjoy this next take on Robin and Nancy.
Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.
“It’s Robin we’re talking about,” Steve complained, pushing the dashboard of the Wheeler station wagon.
“I know,” Nancy replied.
“She wouldn’t do this.”
“I know.”
“How could they think she did this?”
“I don’t know.”
“God, I just—”
“Can you stop talking? I know she didn’t do this, but Jason believes she did and if we don’t hurry our asses up, she might be dead in a ditch somewhere.” Nancy’s hands were gripping the wheel.
She wasn’t sure what they were going to do. She wasn’t sure how they would get Robin back. But she knew she would do whatever it took. She had a gun in her glove box in case she needed it. She would not let Robin die.
“I’m sorry, I’m just worried.”
“We’re all worried, Steve.” It was the first thing Max had said.
“Where did you say they were going to take her, Lucas?” Nancy asked, looking in the rearview mirror. The boy was staring out the window.
“The lake. Lovers Lake,” Lucas said with a monotone voice.
Nancy nodded, taking a sharp turn. She was well aware they’d have to walk part of the way and it would lose them a lot of time. So, she was simply trying to make up for that time. If he had hurt her, she’d kill him. She would honestly kill him.
She stopped the car. Steve jumped out first, which gave her the opportunity to grab the gun before she got out of the car herself, following Steve, Max, Lucas, and Dustin in the direction of Lovers Lake.
The closer they got, the more they could hear. Muffled voices that turned more audible with every step they took.
“I swear I didn’t hurt her. Jason, I didn’t hurt her.” It was clearly Robin’s voice.
“We know you did it, Buckley. You’re the last person Chrissy was seen with.”
“We just talked. I swear we just talked.”
Nancy stopped walking. Robin was a great liar. She had learned that much. But she had a tell, everyone had a tell. Robin’s tell was the tiniest pitch change. She was lying and Nancy couldn’t for the life of her figure out why.
“You just talked and then she died. And we’re supposed to believe that?”
“If I was going to lie, wouldn’t I try something more believable.”
“Talking is believable,” one of Jason’s goons said.
Nancy continued walking. There was no time to waste.
Robin’s hair was wet. That was the first thing Nancy noticed when Robin came into view. Her hair was wet, and she was sitting on her knees in the water. Jason was pacing in front of her. Two of his goons standing next to Robin.
“What’s the plan?” Steve whispered.
Nancy didn’t reply. She just walked closer to Robin, holding the gun close. She lifted it. “Hey, dickhead. Stop bothering my friend.”
Jason turned around. “What the hell are you doing here, Wheeler?”
“Let her go.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m the one holding a gun.”
“Don’t make me laugh. You’re not going to shoot.”
Nancy pointed the gun slightly lower and pulled the trigger, just barely missing Jason’s feet. Jason jumped out of the way.
“Let her go.”
“She killed Chrissy.”
“No, she didn’t. Now, if she’s not standing next to me in the next 10 seconds I’ll shoot again. And this time, I won’t miss.”
Jason looked at Robin.
“Ten,” Nancy shouted.
“Fine, Buckley go to your girlfriend.”
Robin scrambled to her feet and ran towards Nancy.
“Good choice.” Nancy put the gun down, grabbing Robin’s arm instead.
-
“Why did you lie?” Nancy asked. Robin was laying next to her. Nancy wouldn’t let her out her sight after what happened.
“What are you talking about?”
“When you told Jason you and Chrissy just talked. You were lying.”
“What? No, I wasn’t. Me and Chrissy just talked. I have no idea what happened to her.”
“I’m not saying I think you killed her. I don’t think that. I know better. So, why did you lie?”
“Oh, I don’t— I didn’t lie. I just— She and I— It was nothing. She just complained about Jason the whole time. He really is a shit boyfriend.”
Nancy hummed. She turned around in the bed. Something stung in her chest and she couldn’t explain what or why.
#prompts#ronance#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#my work#stranger things#fanfic#robin x nancy#nancy x robin
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Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...
In the meantime, please enjoy this second installment of Unwanted: Unusables, or, chapters from the first draft that didn't make it into the final cut of the finished story! Today, I have an early version of Chapter 6: Unattached. A lot of the beginning is the same (the dinner itself), but there was a LOT I added, then removed, from the end of the chapter. Jade was going by Jewel at this point in the draft, and Tony had gifted Pocket a Ferrari Sergio as his post-Civil War apology.
Why did I scrap this section? Easy: I couldn't realistically convince myself that Nat didn't know how to drive stick shift, lol.
Since this is the whole chapter (as it was) in its entirety, it's long AF.
Enjoy!
You and Bucky arrived at the common room an hour or so later, the sound of laughter filtering out from inside.
"Sounds like it's going well," Bucky turned to you with a hopeful smile. "Try to play nice in there, okay?"
"I'm always nice," you pouted, but when Bucky gave you a pointed look, you sighed. "Fine. It goes against my better judgement," you said, adjusting the collar of Bucky's shirt, "but I'll do it for you."
The look he gave you was indiscernible. There was warmth and affection there, but also an undercurrent of sadness in it that left you unsettled. You swallowed, looking away from him. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said, putting more conviction in your voice than you felt.
He took your hand, and together you walked into the common room. It wasn't hard to spot Jewel-- she was presiding smack dab in the middle of the room, telling some story that had Sam, Steve, Rhodey, Thor, and even Bruce all at rapturous attention.
"I'm going to go introduce myself real quick, then be right back," said Bucky, letting go of your hand and heading over to where Jewel had was holding court. The temperature of the air seemed to drop ten degrees without the warmth of his presence by your side.
You watched as he made his way over to stand beside Steve. In seemingly no time at all, Steve was making the introductions. Bucky took Jewel's hand, and to your surprise, he bent over and kissed her knuckles. Your mind's eye took you back to the day you'd met him, when you'd pulled your own hand back after he'd refused to even shake it.
Jewel demurred and looked away from Bucky, bashfully, before putting a hand on his chest and saying something that made Bucky laugh and caused his cheeks to blush.
"Careful, you glare any harder, you're liable to bore a hole straight through him," Natasha said, coming up alongside of you.
"What if I aim for her, instead?" you asked, reaching for the tumbler of alcohol she offered you and taking a sip to distract yourself.
"What happened to no-strings-attached, friends who happen to fuck?" Nat asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've grown strings, Pocket."
You looked away from the scene in front of you. "There might be some growing of string, in theory," you mumbled to her. Nat was the only person you had confided in regarding your arrangement with Bucky. Of course, your friend had been thrilled that there had been something going on between the two of you, but she'd been more concerned about protecting your heart-- was this the safest thing for you to do? You assured her at the time you'd be fine, but now...?
"String Theory?" asked Tony, popping up behind you both with a glass of whiskey. "Seems like a heavy topic of conversation for a social gathering, ladies."
"How'd the interview go?" you asked, hoping to move the topic of conversation as far away from Bucky as possible, now that Tony was there.
"She's everything you said, and more," said Tony with a sad shake of his head. "She put on a good show, though. Cap was eating right out of her hand."
Disappointment coursed through you at his words. "Looks like he's not the only one," you murmured as you watched Jewel let out a coquettish giggle at something Bucky said.
You kept up your conversation with Tony to keep yourself from openly staring, but it was hard to concentrate on anything else. Your heart sank every time they shared a laugh or a joke, or Jewel leaned into Bucky ever so slightly. You found yourself tensing each time Bucky reached out and put a hand on Jewel's arm or shoulder in response to something she said-- all too familiar gestures that you'd grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of, not watching him impart on others from a distance. So much for his "be right back."
You hated yourself for feeling this way.
Eventually, Tony's personal chef, Raul, called everyone to the table for dinner and the little gathering around Jewel broke up. Normally, you would be excited-- you loved it when Raul cooked special dinners for the team, but tonight you were on edge. Following Nat and Tony to the table, you froze in your tracks while you watched Bucky pull back a chair-- your chair, the one you had sat in, next to Bucky, for every meal for the last year-- for Jewel, pushing it in for her as she sat down.
Your heart felt like it was being ripped in half. Your brain automatically began thinking up excuses you could make for leaving the room, but you knew that would only make things worse for you in the long run.
The air around you suddenly felt as though it had grown colder. Everyone around you had noticed Bucky pull out a chair for Jewel-- silently declaring to all that tonight, she was the one he wanted next to him, and not you, despite your unspoken ritual. Sam shot you a sympathetic look, and Steve, who had been getting ready to sit at Bucky's other side, moved to offer you his chair, instead, as if that would make up for Bucky's slight.
You grimaced and silently shook your head at Steve, not wanting to draw any more attention to the awkward situation you found yourself in. Instead, you made your way to the only remaining seat at the table next to Nat-- directly across from Jewel and Bucky.
As you sat down, Jewel looked up at you with a bright smile. "Hi," she said, voice like honey. "I don't think we had a chance to meet yet. I'm Jewel, but you can call me 'Vixen.'"
You looked at her, confusion leaking into your features.
"I thought the two of you met when you gave Vixen her tour earlier," Bucky said, apparently remembering that you did exist, after all.
"Oh, no," Jewel (you absolutely refused to refer to her as 'Vixen,' even in your own head) said with a dismissive laugh, "they had some little bitch of an intern give me my tour. I should actually complain to Stark about her, she had an attitude."
"No, that was definitely me," you said, fighting to keep the annoyance out of your tone, "attitude and all." You had literally wasted three and a half hours of your life escorting this woman around the Tower and she couldn't be bothered to remember you? Jewel didn't even have the decency to look chastised at calling you bitchy to your face.
"They let interns have dinner with the Avengers?" she asked in disbelief, instead. "Have to say, I thought it be a little more... elite."
"Pocket's not an intern," Steve said with a laugh, as though it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, and you were grateful to him for coming to your defense. "She's an Avenger, just like the rest of us." You gave Steve a warm, appreciative smile.
"Thanks, Cap," you said, truly touched he had called you an Avenger.
"Well, she's more like Avenger-adjacent," Bucky amended. The words shouldn't have stung-- it was how you had referred to yourself hundreds of times, but you tended to reserve it for your low moments, when you were feeling unequal to Earth's mightiest heroes. Hearing the words come out of Bucky's mouth, as if he, too, shared in your belief that you were inferior to the rest of them... well, that fucking hurt.
Steve let out a surprised laugh. "Pocket may not have enhanced physical abilities, but she's brilliant. She's an expert in strategy, she's got a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and Computation, and she's got a black belt in Krav Maga. It's no exaggeration to say I'd be dead a couple dozen times over if I hadn't had her at my six. If anything, I think it makes her more important than the rest of us. We're here because of the physical things we can do; Pocket's essential to the team because of how she thinks. We're replaceable, Pocket's one-of-a-kind."
You were speechless at Steve's words, your throat tightening with the emotional lump that had formed there. That may have been the kindest, sweetest thing anyone had said about you, ever, especially on the heels of Bucky's comment. Catching his eye, you mouthed a silent thank you, wishing you could convey how much his words meant to you. He winked at you in acknowledgement.
"I just meant that we try to keep Pocket away from the dangerous stuff," Bucky backpedaled, weakly, in your opinion. "Can't risk her getting hurt." He smiled at you, but you just stared back, impassively, until he looked away, embarrassed. He knew you only called yourself 'Avenger-adjacent' when you were being hard on yourself. He fucking knew it, because he had told you to knock it off a hundred times.
"So, Pocket's an interesting name," Jewel said, and you were momentarily grateful to her for trying to move the conversation on to something less embarrassing for you. "Did your parents, like, hate you or something?" she continued with a giggle. Well, that was a short-lived respite.
"Yeah, they did, actually," you said, completely straight-faced, "but the feeling was mutual, so no love lost there."
Jewel's mouth dropped open in shock and you had the distinct impression you'd ruined whatever power play she'd been trying to pull on you.
Nat broke into laughter next to you, and soon everyone else around you was joining in. While only a select few at the table knew the full extent of what your parents had put you through, it was no secret that you had experienced abuse at their hands, and it was second nature for you to use dark humor to help you cope with it.
As the laughter died down, the small talk started up again. You were thankful for the distraction, but your appetite was gone, which was a shame, because Raul had done an excellent job. You pushed your food around your plate, occasionally nodding along as though you were paying attention to the conversations around you.
You tried to ignore the little glances and gestures that Jewel directed at Bucky, but your eyes kept flickering over to them. You couldn't help but notice the way his body leaned in slightly towards hers when they talked. Did he do that when he spoke to you? He hadn't even said a word to you since the horrible Avengers-adjacent comment.
"So, Bucky," Jewel said, her voice low and flirty, "handsome super hero like you, you got a girlfriend?" Your eyes snapped up, watching him, sure he was going to look to you, make eye contact. Something to acknowledge what was between you, that would make you feel like you were still in the same room, hell, on the same fucking planet, as him. But he didn't.
Bucky grinned, running a hand through his hair.
"Nah, no girlfriend," he said, glancing over at Jewel. "But I'm definitely open to the idea." You had been stabbed in the abdomen on a mission once, and that hurt less than hearing the words that came out of Bucky's mouth, and you had to resist the urge to get up and leave the room at that moment.
"Really, man?" Sam asked from where he sat on the other side of Natasha, his voice hard in disbelief. The atmosphere in your corner of the table had shifted. Natasha, Steve, and Sam all stared at Bucky with looks ranging from incredulity to flat out disgust. Maybe the two of you hadn't been as secretive as you'd thought.
You couldn't bring yourself to even look at Bucky anymore. It felt like a betrayal, the way his eyes had met Jewel's and not yours. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but all you could hear were your own thoughts. How could he be so callous as to openly flirt with someone else in front of you? Had you meant nothing to him?
You took a deep breath, trying to steel yourself against the pain that was slowly building inside of you. You knew that the two of you were never anything official, but you had thought that there was something there between you.
As the dinner continued, you couldn't shake the misery that had settled in your chest. You excused yourself with no explanation, abruptly getting up from the table, and made your way back to your room. Once you were alone, you let out a shaky breath, tears streaming down your face.
How could you have been so stupid? You had let yourself believe that there could be something real between you and Bucky, but clearly, you had been wrong. He was interested in Jewel and you were just a convenient friend. Being kept in a holding pattern until something better came along.
You collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow as sobs wracked your body. How could you even face him now, knowing that he had no real interest in you beyond your friendship, after all the things you had done together? You didn't know if you could bear being in the same room with him, pretending like everything was okay between the two of you.
As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, you barely registered the sound of your phone buzzing from your bedside table. Picking it up, you saw you had a new message from Nat.
Do you want me to kill them?
You wiped away your tears, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Leave it to Natasha to offer such a straightforward solution. Despite your heartache, you couldn't help but appreciate her loyalty and fierce protectiveness.
You typed back:
No, as tempting as it might be. Thank you for offering, but I don't want you sent away for double homicide.
Her response was almost instantaneous:
I'm insulted you assume I'd get caught :)
The smiley face at the end was too much, and you actually laughed. You were so grateful to have her as your friend.
Thanks for having my back, Natty.
Any and every time, Pocket. You know that <3
Other texts started trickling in from the rest of your family. Everyone checking in to make sure you were okay, since you had left the table so suddenly and without giving a reason.
But none came from Bucky.
Your suite suddenly felt too small and hot-- you needed to get out, go somewhere that wasn't covered in memories of Bucky so that you could breathe. There was only one thing you did that always helped clear your head. You needed to go dancing.
You changed your clothes for the third time today, opting for a pair of skintight, red leather pants and a black halter top. You did your hair and put on some makeup-- just enough to mask that you'd been crying, but still enough to turn a man's head.
Shoving your phone, ID, and credit card into your back pocket, you left your room and headed back to the common room. You could have just texted Nat to ask her if she wanted to come with you, but you wanted to see Bucky's reaction to how you looked, if he even had one at all.
You were surprised to find the common room far emptier than you'd left it a little over an hour ago. It seemed as though, once dinner had ended, the gathering had broken up and people had started going their own way. Glancing around, you saw Nat standing by a window, looking out over the Manhattan skyline, but Bucky and Jewel were nowhere to be seen. You tried to ignore the rock that had taken up residence in your stomach.
"Natty," you called, getting her attention. She met you halfway across the room, a large grin spread across her face.
"Damn, girl," she let out a low whistle as she assessed your outfit. "You trying to give Barnes a heart attack?" she asked.
"No," you said, "I want to go dancing. I need to get out of my head. You want to come?"
"Absolutely, if only to keep you from making any decisions you might regret in the morning." She paused, assessing you. "He's walking her out, by the way. In case you were wondering where they were."
You had, but your stomach soured at the knowledge, all the same.
Down in the lobby, you were just about to call an Uber for you and Nat when you spotted Bucky standing off to the side with Jewel. They were standing far too close together for your liking. You hoped you could sneak by without attracting their attention, but Jewel caught sight of the two of you and began waving you over.
"Natasha!" she called (okay, so maybe she wasn't waving you over). "Come join us!"
Nat gave you a questioning look, silently asking what you wanted to do.
"Might as well," you muttered. "Night's already gone mostly to hell."
You and Nat made your way over to where Jewel and Bucky were standing.
"Did you come to say goodbye?" Jewel asked Nat, the eagerness in her voice palpable.
"Uh, no," Nat replied, obviously confused. "Pocket and I are heading out. We're going dancing."
"Oh. My. God." Jewel practically started jumping up and down. "Bucky, we should go dancing with her!" It wasn't lost on either you or Natasha that Jewel seemed to be purposefully excluding you from the conversation. Bucky, unsurprisingly, didn't seem to notice.
"Sorry," you said, suddenly struck with inspiration, "but the car's only a two-seater. Maybe next time."
Nat raised a questioning eyebrow at you as you picked your phone out of your pocket and dialed the Tower's garage. "Hey, Carl, it's Pocket.... Good, thanks... you?... Listen, can you have someone bring my Sergio to the front entrance? I'll be taking it out tonight... I know ... Great... thanks!" You ended the call and looked to Nat. "They'll bring the car up in just a minute."
Nat couldn't hide the grin that had spread across her face. "Finally! I have been dying to get my ass into that car forever!
"What's a Sergio?" Jewel asked. "I've never heard of it before."
"I wouldn't have expected you to," Nat said, giving Jewel a tight, fake smile. "Seeing as how Ferrari only ever made six of them."
"Pocket," Bucky said, the first words he'd spoken to you since you and Nat had arrived, "can I talk to you for a minute?" He took your arm and led you away from Nat and Jewel to a more secluded section of the lobby.
"What are you doing?" he asked, voice low and with a hint of warning behind it.
"Going dancing with Nat," you said simply.
"Come on, you never drive that car. You're too scared of damaging it. So, how come the first time you decide to take it for a spin is right in front of Jewel?"
"What are you insinuating, Bucky?" you asked defensively. He looked at you as though you were a child lying about who broke Grandma's favorite vase.
"You're pissed about the intern comment, so you want to flaunt how much money you make. That's really not like you, Pocket. I'm disappointed."
You were physically taken aback by his words. "You honestly think I'd do something like that?" you asked, incredibly offended he could think such a thing of you.
"I didn't think so, but..." he let the rest of the statement hang in the air.
"I called for the fucking car because I didn't want her just inviting herself to join Nat and me," you snapped. "It has absolutely nothing to do with showing off how much money I have."
Bucky ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "God, Pocket, would it kill you to be nice to her for just a minute? I don't understand why you have it out for her so badly."
"That girl has been nothing but nasty to me all day," you said through gritted teeth. "And if you haven't noticed that by now, nothing I say is going to make you see it." God, you were so disappointed in him. The hurt and betrayal you'd felt earlier had subsided and now you just felt... sad. Deflated. "I don't want to argue with you, Buck. Especially not about her. So, can we just agree to disagree on this, and Nat and I can be on our way? I'm sure you have more important things you'd rather be doing than giving me the third degree, anyway."
He crossed his arms, giving you a hard stare. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Tilting your head, you pursed your lips and gave him a look. "Really? Everyone noticed it, Bucky. Everyone."
"Pocket!" Nat called out to you, preventing Bucky from responding to your insinuation. "Car's here!"
With a heavy sigh, you began to make your way to the front doors. "See you later, Barnes," you called over your shoulder. You were more than ready to get out of there and lose yourself in the music.
*
Hours later, you were coated in a sheen of sweat from dancing and completely and utterly shitfaced. You hadn't intended to get drunk, let alone this drunk, but once the alcohol started numbing your feelings, all you wanted to do was drown your emotions in it. Now, you were sitting in a booth in the club, head pressed against the wall, fighting to keep your eyes open. Nat had taken your phone and was talking to someone.
"Hey, it's Natasha. Can you do me a solid and meet up with us? ... Pocket's plastered and I don't know how to drive stick. ... It means I can't get her car home. ... She already shares her location with you, right? So just take an Uber. ... You can drive her back to the Tower and I'll take the Uber home. ... Did you forget how she dragged your ass home when you were drunk on Thor's Asgardian shit? ... I'd say you owe her. ... Text her phone when you get here; I'm holding onto it. ... Good, see you in a bit." She hung up and bent down so she was at eye level with you.
"Sweetie," she said gently, "don't be mad at me, but I called Bucky to come get you and bring your car home."
You scrunched up your face in disgust. "Bucky? Ew. I'm mad at him. He sucks."
"I know, honey, but he's the only other person I know who can drive stick who's awake at this hour, and your car's too expensive to leave in valet parking overnight." She brushed your hair away from your face as you turned to look at her.
"What's wrong with me, Natty?" you asked her, your emotions fighting their way back up through the haze of the alcohol.
"Nothing, Pocket. Honey, nothing's wrong with you. Why would you ask me that?" Nat's voice was full of concern.
"Why doesn't he love me, then? Why am I good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love?" The last of the words came out in a choked sob.
Nat wrapped her arms around you, rubbing her hands up and down your back in a soothing pattern. "You'd have to ask him that, sweetie. I can't answer it for him."
"It's 'cause I'm just a gross, used up whore," you told her. "'s all I've ever been good for-- sticking dicks in. Nothing else."
Nat held you at arm's length so she could look you in the eye. "Pocket, stop. That's Darren talking, not you, honey. You know that's not true."
"Then why doesn't he want me?" you hiccuped. "Fuck, Natty. 'm so in love with him, it hurts." There. You finally admitted it, not just to Nat, but to yourself. You were in love with your best friend, and you had been for a while now. You'd been too afraid to acknowledge it, to open yourself up to the idea that maybe you could have a real relationship with him, and now it was too late. He'd found someone else, and you'd missed any chance you might have had.
"I know, sweetheart," she said, embracing you again. "Everyone knew and, for what it's worth, we were all sure he felt the same way."
"He doesn't, though," you sniveled into her shoulder. "And why'd it have to be her? Natty, she's so awful. He could have anyone he wanted, why did he have to pick her?"
Natasha sighed. "Because he's a guy, and he thinks with his dick," she told you. "And since dicks don't have eyes, it makes it hard for men to see what someone like Jewel's really like. Especially when Jewel doesn't want them to."
You snorted, imagining Bucky's dick with googly eyes attached to it. "His dick was the best, Nat," you bemoaned. "I'm going to miss it so much. So many times, when we were finished, I couldn't even walk after."
It was Nat's turn to snort. "That does sound like some good dick, Pocket," she admitted.
"And his tongue," you sighed. "'s so long, you wouldn't believe--"
"Okay, Pocket, I think that's enough sharing, don't you?" You pouted but didn't say anything else.
Your phone buzzed then, and you looked all around for it before you watched Nat pull it from her pocket and look at the text you'd just received."
"Alright, Magic Dick's here," she said, taking your hands in hers and hoisting you up. "Up you go."
With her help, you stumbled out of the club, only tripping over your own feet twice, which you thought was fairly impressive, given the circumstances.
Outside, Bucky was waiting for you, a stony expression on his beautiful face. God, he looked so handsome. "Magic Dick," you whispered to Nat, then burst into a fit of drunken giggles that had you tripping over yourself all over again.
Bucky was immediately at your side, taking your weight off of Nat and putting it on him.
"Well, hey there, Magic Dick," you giggled. Bucky shot Nat a look over your head.
"How much has she had to drink?" he asked her.
Nat handed the valet the claim ticket for your car. "More than she should have, that's for sure."
While you waited for the valet to bring your Sergio around, Nat leaned down to look at you.
"I'm going to get in the Uber now, Pocket. Bucky's gonna take you home, alright?"
You nodded and reached out to drunkenly stroke her face. "Okay, Natty-Nat. Love you."
"Love you, too, sweetheart." She kissed your forehead and headed for the waiting Uber. Before she got in, she turned to Bucky. "Don't give her any shit tonight, okay?" she ordered before closing the door, leaving you and Bucky to wait for the car alone.
"What's going on with you tonight, Pocket?" he asked. "You haven't been acting like yourself." The car pulled up and the valet held the door open for Bucky as he slid you into the passenger seat.
"Just wanted to dance," you murmured, tilting your head sideways to look at him as he fastened your seat belt. "Makes me feel better. And then there was alcohol. Oops."
Bucky let out a sigh as he closed the passenger door and made his way around to the driver's side. He had a point; you seldom got drunk. It reminded you too much of your mother, so you only ever let yourself get a little buzzed. But tonight was a special occasion.
Bucky pulled out of the lot and onto the street. Even at the late hour, New York was still alive with activity. You leaned your head on the windowsill and watched the lights as they passed by.
"You're supposed to be on my side, you know." The words were a whisper, and you'd spoken them into the night. If he had been anyone else, he wouldn't have heard you.
But he wasn't anyone else. He was Bucky. "I am on your side, Pocket. Always."
Though it felt incredibly heavy, you turned your head to face him. He looked so beautiful driving your convertible, the lights of the city reflecting off the lines of his face, the warm night breeze tickling his hair.
"You weren't tonight." Your voice was small, reflecting every bit of the self-doubt you'd felt over the course of the evening, every ounce of the pain.
Bucky sighed, his flesh hand gripping the steering wheel of the Sergio so tightly his knuckles were white. "I don't know what you want from me, Pocket."
You let out an exhausted sigh, the beautiful drunken haze fading from your system and leaving an ache in its wake. You're stomach growled and you remembered you hadn't eaten much dinner. "Can we get something to eat," you asked him, "and go somewhere to talk?" He nodded and changed course, heading away from the Tower.
A few minutes later, he pulled the Sergio into the well-lit parking lot of a 24-hour diner. Like lightning, he was out of the car and coming around to open your door before you'd even finished fumbling with your seat belt. He reached his flesh hand down to help you step out of the car, and to your surprise, didn't let go, hold your hand as you walked into diner together. Most likely making sure you didn't drunkenly fall on your ass and embarrass him, you thought.
Inside, the perky blonde hostess gave Bucky a long, appraising look while he asked for a table in the back. Even at this time of night, the diner was bustling with patrons. The sound of chatter and clinking cutlery filled the air, competing with the soft buzz of fluorescent lights overhead. Waitstaff hurriedly made their rounds, taking orders and carrying plates with a clatter of dishes.
When you reached the back, you slid into the booth the hostess directed you to, and instead of sitting across from you, Bucky slid in next to you. The hostess handed you your menus before casting a final, lingering glance at Bucky and walked off, leaving you alone with the super soldier and not sure what exactly you were going to say to him.
You unwrapped your silverware and began playing absentmindedly with the band that had been holding your napkin in place. You could feel Bucky's eyes on you, but you didn't turn to meet his gaze until you felt the fingers of his metal hand gently reach over and brush a strand of hair away from your face.
"You wanted to talk, doll," he said, softly, "so let's talk."
You bit your lip and turned to meet his eyes, the blue of them so soft and gentle as he looked at you. "I'm not saying this to attack you, Buck," you began, gathering your thoughts, "or to try and make you feel bad, but you really made me feel like shit tonight."
He swallowed thickly, but before he could answer you, your waitress approached the booth to take your order. You ordered a chicken Caesar wrap and a glass of chocolate milk for yourself; Bucky ordered a coffee and a large basket of waffle fries.
Once the waitress had left, Bucky turned back to you, taking your hand in his metal one and lacing your fingers together. "The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you," he told you. He brought your hand to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on your knuckle. "I'm sorry. I was a dick tonight. Finding out that Jewel has the same kind of abilities as I do... it made me feel less alone, like maybe I'm not just a fucked up science experiment that went horribly wrong."
"Buck..." you began, but he continued talking.
"It doesn't excuse how I treated you tonight, but I was so eager to get to know to her, to see how she copes with it. I've only ever had Steve to talk to about it, and Steve's... well..."
"Steve's fucking Captain America," you provided, understanding now where Bucky was coming from. "The perpetual boy scout. You don't want to open up to him about the darker stuff, because you're afraid it will change how he sees you."
Bucky closed his eyes and nodded. "He's already done so much to save me from the worst parts of myself; I don't want to burden him with any more than I already have."
You cupped his jaw with your hand. "Steve loves you, Buck. He will never see you as a burden. I promise you that."
He smiled at you, but it was sad. "I already cost him so much. More than you realize, Pocket. It just felt like, with Jewel, maybe I could have someone else to discuss those parts of myself with, someone I wasn't afraid of letting down."
Your first instinct was to be hurt that he felt he couldn't share those parts of himself with you, but you realized why he wasn't able to.
As if reading your thoughts, he said: "Please don't think it means that I want to share things with her instead of you, though. That will never be the case."
"But there are things that I'll just never be able to fully understand," you supplied, "because I'm not a super soldier. I understand."
He nodded, leaning his head down until his forehead was pressed against yours. "But I don't need to be friends with her," he said. "You said she was horrible to you, and I believe you. That's not the kind of person I want in my life. You're the most important thing in the world to me. I need you to know that."
You would have sworn you felt your heart momentarily stop. More important to him than Steve? Your cheeks grew warm at the implication.
"Bucky, I never want to be the kind of person who tells you who you can or can't be friends with. If talking to her helps you process whatever you need to process, then please, do it." You nuzzled your nose against his. "Just, you know, never flirt with her in front of me again."
He pulled his head back and looked at you, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "Doll, are you telling me you're jealous?" You made a scoffing sound and playfully pushed him away from you. You were treading dangerously close to feelings territory, and you'd only just gotten back to a good place with him; you weren't about to risk it, but you weren't going to lie to him, either.
You ran a hand through his hair, leaning closer until your lips were pressed against the shell of his ear. "You know I've never been a good girl when it comes to sharing, Bucky," you breathed before taking his earlobe into your mouth and sucking on it.
Bucky let out a low groan and shot his metal hand over to possessively grasp your upper thigh, sending a shiver through you. "Be careful, doll," he growled in the way that had you clenching your legs together, "otherwise I'm liable to bend you over this table and fuck you so hard, you won't remember your own name."
You pulled away from him. "Promises, promises," you teased.
Before Bucky could follow through on his threat, the waitress returned with your orders. Without thinking, you handed Bucky half of your wrap at the same time he deposited a generous handful of waffle fries onto your plate. Catching your eye, he gave you an amused grin, and you both burst into laughter. The tension between you two seemed to dissipate, replaced by the comfortable banter you were used to.
The conversation throughout the meal was light, ranging from random anecdotes to plans for the next day. Occasionally, Bucky would say something that made you giggle uncontrollably, causing a few patrons to give you curious glances. But he just flashed them his charming smile, making most of them blush and turn away.
After finishing your meals, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you watched the diner's activity. His arm automatically wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his side. You could hear his heart beating steadily in his chest, a soothing rhythm that made your eyes droop sleepily.
"You alright there?" Bucky asked softly, noticing your languidness. You hummed in response, too comfortable to move or open your eyes properly.
"Gettin' sleepy," you admitted as you tried to stifle a yawn. "'s been a long night."
"Then let's get you home before you turn into a pumpkin, princess." Bucky helped you out of the booth, then tucked you into his side so you could lean against him as you walked toward the counter to pay your bill. You tried to hand Bucky your Amex card, but he shooed your hand away. "I got it, doll. Least I can do after everything I put you through tonight."
You didn't argue with him, not because you didn't have the energy to, but because you knew it was his way of making amends. He settled the bill quickly, leaving a generous tip, then led you back out of the diner into the cool night air. You leaned against his sturdy form as he walked you both back to the Sergio, opening the door for you and helping you with your seat belt, despite your protests.
"I'm not that drunk anymore, Buck," you laughed as he leaned over you to click the belt into place.
"Damn it, woman, be quiet and let me take care of you!" He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before closing the door and making his way around to the driver's side.
Though the drive to the Tower wasn't very long, you quickly found yourself lulled into a comfortable stupor, your mind at peace for the first time in what what felt like weeks. You barely registered when Bucky pulled into the Tower's underground garage, or stopped to give the Sergio's keys to the night parking attendant. You were vaguely aware of him picking you up and cradling you in his arms as he carried you back to his room.
Once inside, he carefully helped you strip out of your pants and halter top and into one of his shirts. Once you'd changed, he tucked you both into his bed, curling his body against yours until you didn't know where his body ended and yours began.
"Better?" he asked, softness threading his voice. You hummed in response, half asleep as your body molded into his welcoming warmth.
A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, "Sweet dreams, doll," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he adjusted the sheets around you both. His metal arm wound under your pillow comfortably while the other rested on your waist, giving you a sense of protection that no fortress could offer.
You curled closer into him, snuggling into his broad chest like a kitten seeking warmth. His steady heartbeat and slow breathing became your lullaby, luring you closer to sleep with every second.
He stroked your hair gently as you fell off into sleep, whispering words of affection and apology into the quietness of the night.
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Hi Soup! For a shorter fic, I'd love to see Leo sick at work or because of something stressful at work! We've seen him sick from something that happens at work (damn cake!), but not actually not feeling well at the office - maybe because he ate too much at lunch and it's just not sitting well. Does he hide it because he's got something that needs to get finished? Does he need to go puke quickly so he can keep working? Do people realize and make him leave? Your choice. Only request is that there isn't actually any publicly embarassing throwing up - no puking in court or in the middle of a meeting. Thank you so much!
Leo was over the moon about being a Real Lawyer, as he childishly called himself. It was no secret to his loved ones just how excited he was to be able to defend cases himself, instead of running after another lawyer with all their research and watching them recite a defense thesis that Leo was pretty sure had been partially written by him.
His boss put a lot of trust in him. Sure, Mrs. Mitchell only gave him small cases so far, but she was slowly handing him more and not only were they more frequent, but the difficulty was increasing.
Thus, Leo had easily blamed the uncomfortable churning in his stomach on nerves when it started. Today he had a big court day and no matter how many times he had gone over his notes - and ranted about the case enough that Jonah was probably a liability - he still felt jittery all over.
He was the defense today, to a woman who was being accused of plagiarism by a relatively well established script writer. Normally the Hollywood cases would stay in California and Mitchell's claws, but this one was small and unimportant enough to make it to Maine. The script writer was from the state and probably thought he could play on the local's sympathies, after all he had gone out and made it.
Leo wasn't feeling very sympathetic.
He was feeling almost queasy as he looked at the smug face of the script writer, who was accusing an ex-girlfriend of almost ten years ago of "stealing" his intellectual property.
Had no one learned a thing for Fitzgerald? Or Tolstoy?
Apparently not.
"You know," Dean leaned his way, "we're in court, you might wanna brighten up a little and stop glaring bloody murder to the opposition."
"Sorry," Leo shook his head, trying to physically shake off his frown, "I wasn't glaring at him, I was just frowning, he happened to be in the way."
"Brilliant save," Dean grinned, "they're gonna call break in five."
Leo was aware of that, he was the main defense lawyer and he was actually listening to the prosecutor's flimsy claims that Gwen was a plagiarist only because she happened to use the same first name in one of her published short stories.
Leo almost wished the opposition had a decent defense of their points, so he didn't have so much time to focus on the burbling going inside his belly. The lunch he had forced down wasn't sitting well at all and little sickly belches kept bubbling up his chest and fizzling out in his throat.
He felt like his whole body smelt like the greasy burger he had eaten and like everyone could tell... His mouth was watering.
Forty minutes recess.
"They're fumbling by the seam of their pants," Dean started to tell their client, in a low, collected voice, "they have nothing, you don't need to worry."
Right, Leo thought bitterly. She was a librarian, who published exactly one book with short stories just for fun, being prosecuted by a Hollywood script writer. Sure, the man was far from being a big shot of anything, but compared to the woman's position...
"Ms. Peters, you have a solid defense, please trust us," Leo promised her calmly, "take the recess, get some coffee, it'll be a long day."
His own words were mockery to him. Normally he existed on coffee and today just the thought of drinking a drop of anything made his stomach flip on itself and he hastily got up, muffling a little burp on his fist and excusing himself. No one had heard, although Sandra did throw him a puzzled look.
"Ms. Peters," Sandy stepped in, "let's take a small walk."
Sandra, like Leo, normally was one of the lawyers with the softest touch. Usually Leo didn't have all his coworkers with him, but he had his boss sitting right behind their desk, judging his every move. It was a huge tell of respect and trust that Mrs. Mitchell had only sent his peers today, instead of coming herself. Almost as if saying go and show them how its done.
He couldn't mess this up.
"The man is a misogynistic bully," Dean continued to speak, following Leo into the public bathroom. His coworker could talk with a tree if left to his own devices, "I'm excited for your part, the evid-"
"Shut it," Leo glared at him, handing Dean his suitcase and removing his suit jacket, "hold this, please."
"No one's listening to us."
"Dean," Leo scoffed, "no. Last thing I want is for you to blow the case by lack of decorum or by giving the prosecution a ti-URP-Fuck," the larger belch that slipped into his last word caused Dean to raise his eyebrows. The other man opened his mouth, about to ask about Leo's wellbeing when the blonde turned around and entered a stall, quickly pushing the lid up and planting a hand on his chest to keep his tie in place as a chunky stream of vomit hit the water.
"WhOA! Wagner, what the fuck-"
Leo hung his head in shame, bracing his free arm against the tiled wall in front of him and panting, trying to get his stomach in check. The queasiness had been on the backburner all day, but the face-prickling, hand sweaty, mouth watery nausea had hit him like a brick and out of nowhere.
"Fuck..." He breathed out through his mouth and swallowed some air, forcing up another burp and then coughing when that brought up some more chunks- He gagged and a much more watery, acidic mouthful of vomit fell in the toilet.
"Wagner, oh my-" Dean was fretting behind him, frozen in place and stunned, "shit, are you sick? We can call for a recess-"
"No," Leo's voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat, spitting a mouthful of thick saliva and flushing, as his sudden nausea went back to the mild queasiness, "No, I'm fine."
"Fine?!" Dean was still holding his suitcase and jacket, seemingly unaware Leo had passed the items to him, "You don't seem fine, you look white as a corpse-"
"I'm fine," Leo stumbled to the sink to wash his face and gargle with water, "lunch just wasn't sitting well-"
"Oh... Are you sure...?" Dean was older than Leo by at least five years and yet he sounded like a scared teenager. Leo nodded, meeting his coworker's eyes on the mirror and patting his own pale cheeks until they were a little rosy instead of spoiled milk white.
"Yeah," he cleared his throat, then fixed his tie and reached for his jacket, "I can't go home, I have a case to win."
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It’s sort of a comedy ship idea. Dead Boy Detectives Cat King x reader, Edwin’s alive relative who is a warlock. In the UK they were nicknamed curse breaker and helped the boys on their cases. Unfortunately no matter how hard they try they can’t get the bracelet off Edwin. The Cat King finds their attempts hilarious……the warlock confronts him and tells him to knock off the mockery!
Warlock: “If you don’t release Edwin I swear I will-!”
Cat King: “Sorry little magician but I’m not a common being, spells don’t work on me. Nice try though and you look so adorable when you’re angry.”😼
pairing: the Cat King x Payne! alive! warlock! gn! reader, Edwin Payne x alive! relative! gn! reader, Charles Rowland x platonic! reader
a/n: i wasn't sure how to add romantic attraction to this so i tried to keep it so it's implied, i hope it's as you hoped!
ps: i tried to write warlock! reader as accurate as possible, but it's probably not perfect, so excuse any inacuracies and feel free to point them out!
Edwin's first though when he got back to Crystak's 'apartment' with that damned bracelet was that you could get it off, right?
so, Charles mirror-travelled to where you said you'd be if you were available, a specific backroom in an abandoned warehouse that you called home.
you kept a mirror there just for them, as it happened more often than they'd like to admit that they needed you to break a curse or needed your magic expertise.
so when Charles practically barged in to drag you to Port Townsend, you weren't exactly surprised.
untill you saw why they needed you.
you happened to already be familiar with the Cat King, as you had a time or two when you had to visit the town for a client needing a spell done, or removed.
you walked into the room with Charles, seeing Crystal practically covering her ears as Edwin banged the bracelet against the different furniture and pipes in the room.
"hey Edwin, what's the problem?" you inquired and he seemed to be relieved.
"take this off, as quick as you can." you raised an eyebrow at him, one he knew all too well.
"...please..." "ofcourse, i can try, do you mind giving me some info on how you even got it in the first place?" you say as you take his wrist and look at the golden bracelet, a vague sense of recognition washing over you and you touch it.
"well, i used a simple, utterly harmless binding spell on a cat, and-"
"you used a spell on a CAT?!" you practically yell, already feeling the vague headache you'd get from the Cat King.
"well, yes, and i do realize it wasn't the best idea, now that i have this inconvenient bracelet" he says in an annoyed tone.
"and let me guess, you got to meet the nuisance that is the Cat King?"
"you know of him?" Edwin asks in a slightly surprised tone.
"ofcourse i know him, he's a pain in my ass" you mutter.
you turn to Crystal, a forced smile on your face which seems more like you're on your last strand of sanity.
"it would be best if you'd take a step back, if this spell backfires it might disintegrate your skin" you say it so casually you can see her confusion with a hint of fear on her face.
"and yours won't? you seem pretty alive to me" she comments, though she does take a step or two back.
"i'm a warlock, i have the influence of a demon in my magic and that very same demon allows me to be able to suffer through higher temperatures without being in any physical pain, so don't you worry about me" you say as you wrap your hand around the bracelet, murmering some words in latin as your hand starts to glow a red-ish orange, though even after over 30 seconds it does absolutely nothing to the bracelet, much to your annoyance.
"well, that seems to have worked splendidly" Edwin comments, instantly receiving a glare from you.
"just, do whatever he told you to do to get it off, i'll go pay mr whiskers a visit" you grumble.
you walk out, speed-walking to the place where you've found the cat king before, much to your luck you actually find him too.
before he can say anything, you start talking.
"if you don't release Edwin i swear i will-"
"sorry, little magician, but i'm not a common being, spells don't work on me. Nice try though, you look so adorable when you're angry"
the tone that he uses makes you want to punch that little smug grin right off his stupid face.
"you're such a nuisance, i hope you lose another one of your nine lives like last time" you grit out through clenched teeth.
"you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid~" the Cat King nearly purrs, which only irks you even more.
"fuck you, and your cats, and those stupid eyes of you and your stupid hair" you practically yell, which makes him put on a fake, pained expression.
"oh no! not my cats, dearest warlock" he laughs, his mocking tone making your blood boil and your cheeks turn red, though as much as you deny it he does have his appeal.
"just, don't inconvenience me even more, asshole" you mumble as you turn to leave, and as you walk away you hear him yell after you.
"come see me whenever you like, i promise i'll make it worth it!"
#dead boy detectives#edwin payne#charles rowland#cat king#the cat king x reader#warlock reader#crystal palace#dead boy detectives x reader#dbda
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I'm not a "ship" person whatsoever but I do scroll character tags on occasion and see quite a bit of Vox and Vel together as well as what seems to be a lot of what I'm assuming is female original character stuff. I've even seen some Charlie and Vox too. So it's out there, but unless you're scrolling through character tags I can see how it might be hard to find. Personally, I also block/filter a lot of the big "ship" tags so maybe that also makes it easier for me to stumble across this stuff that "slips" through since I don't know if those pairings have names.
I get your point though. I do think many are inclined to erase his bisexuality when it's convenient. Interestingly, they also erase Valentino's pansexuality too. The same with Husk as well, but I check his tag a lot less so who knows.
What disappoints me, and I know I'm about to come off as nit-picky right now lol, is the lack of research people put into their "sexuality" headcanons for the characters with reference to their different eras. When reading some of them, you'd think the idea of "gay rights" was a completely new and foreign topic that only emerged after the early 2000s. I get people want to go for the simplistic "repressed and doesn't know what being [insert identity here] is" for some of the older characters but that completely ignores a fascinating and rich tapestry of queer history that could create far more interesting (and still accurate) stories for the characters/their backgrounds. I would really encourage those who haven't already or are generally unfamiliar to dive into this history as it might inspire their character ideas while also educate them on the work, art, and activism our queer elders have contributed to the community we have today.
I think this may partially relate to character ages being under explored as well. While I've seen debate on what is canon/has been decanonized many of these characters, as far as we know, died in their late 30s and beyond. That's a lot of life to live and experience. While certainly many people throughout history (and even today) kept their sexuality hidden from the public due to culture, shame, and safety that doesn't mean there weren't many incredible private venues/spaces that could be utilized to explore those feelings/identities in secret.
I could go on and on about this but I've totally strayed from your original point (I'm sorry!) and I'm very tired haha. I just think there are multiple factors coming into play here with these character interpretations and, for me, the biggest missed opportunity is the lack of historical research. But end of the day people should have their fun! Just an observation.
Completely agree with this! I doubt my response will be as long since I just woke up but other characters doing certain things or not knowing about sexualities is interesting, it just seems like a lot of people think older people don’t want to explore any of that like it only just happened recently as you said. I like to joke about Angel being shocked about gay marriage and not knowing a bunch of current terms but thats about it. With him being in the mafia when he was alive makes it much more interesting as well, I’m pretty sure around his time the mafia was blackmailing men in gay bars but dont quote me on that I might be wrong.
Anyway for Husk and Valentino pan erasure I see that a bunch too. Not exactly erasure but just… ignoring it? Moreso erasure on Valentino’s end because Ive seen people get mad at people for shipping Valentino with a woman and was like “hes gay dont do that” no he isnt. Also dont ship Valentino with anyone for the love of god. But like people are super used to just making up headcanons that they dont bother to look up actual canon stuff. I know Hazbin isn’t the best but if you want canonically LGBTQ+ characters use what you have and add on later. Or headcanon a background character, thats what I did with Molly.
People are very focused on modern day queerness and forget that this stuffs been happening for decades and it’s a bit sad. Also I seem to have strayed from my own question as well?? Anyway ty for mentioning this! Its very interesting 🩷
#raimble#hazbin hotel#hazbin critical#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critical#angel dust#hazbin angel dust#hazbin angel#anti vivziepop#angel dust hazbin#husk hazbin#husk#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel husk#husk hazbin hotel#husker#husker hazbin#hazbin hotel husker#hazbin husker#tw valentino#cw valentino
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this is a bit all over the place, don't mind me. and don't keep reading if you dislike gooey stuff.
as you might know from the lovely asks i was sent (thank you, everyone 💗) it was my birthday yesterday. and unfortunately, as it often happens, some things didn't go so well. i won't go into details, but it was tough, and it sucked to cry on my birthday more than usual (teenage trauma throwback, am i rite) though i admit it was really handy to have a cake to absorb all the tears right up. 🤭
but good things happened, too! and almost all of them had one common denominator: k! (typing it out like this is so silly. she has a name. but for all intents and purposes, she's simply ✨k✨).
without even getting into the actual gifts that my fiancée got me this year—which are as always perfect and thoughtful and useful and just magic—or the cake, or the flowers, or anything else, i wanted to specifically showcase the marvel related stuff that put such a smile on my face:
yes, that balloon gave me heart attacks whenever i walked into the room. yes, i pretended to hate cringy cowboy seb then ended up giggling and blushing every time i looked at him. yes, the spiderman gift bag is from the children's section and we've gifted it back and forth at various occasions for over a year now.
also a superfamily celebration:
i loved feeling like a four year old little boy with my spiderman cake topper <3.
and i obviously won't share the rest of what she wrote, but the card included some sweet quotes i genuinely was so moved by, then i realised they sounded familiar, then i realised it's from my hedgehog fic (which was a gift to her, so honestly we're just throwing the same quotes back and forth pretending it's about steve and tony. it was never about steve and tony).
quoting my own writing back to me?? hello?? queen behaviour right there. also peak moment for me.
(side note, that's not even all the marvel stuff i got from her this birthday. i didn't include any gifts in this post. also, i wish there was a way to show everyone just how many marvel things we own (including fanmade posters, stickers, zines etc. support creators if you can. ❤️) and how much that shocks some people who visit us because it doesn't seem like it goes with the sapphic-grandma core we got going on. oh well, it does now.)
it would be impossible to list why k is the best person in the world without writing actual novels (believe me, i have tried and it was very long) and sharing way too much about her story. but just trust me when i say she is the best friend you could ever have, and she makes me feel so loved and appreciated every single day, which makes special occasions even harder because how do you even top that? well, she still manages to. every time. 🥺
i guess the point of this was to share some appreciation and further my k propaganda, because i can see all the effort and care she lovingly puts into everything she does for other people, and to let everyone know just how much of an angel she is. i don't care if it's corny. and if you've ever seen a comment written by whinysteve, or read her excited tags on a reblog, or directly talked to her, or simply perceived her existence in any form, you already know she's the fucking best. it's not an act, it's all real. should get my shit together and finally wife her up. 🥹
tl;dr: she makes any moment better by just being there; and when she sets her mind to it, you will feel the power of her kindness. at the end of day, to be loved is to be seen. and she's got the world record for best vision. ❤️🩹
#getting personal on main sorry folks ✌🏻️#did i just make my birthday post all about her? yes and what of it#i am a simple girl. i see whinysteve and i fall in love
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So, it turns out Chloe IS going to return for S6... this hot off the press from her voice actor... (actually from back in Jan, but who's counting?)
...So why, my dears, couldn't I give a damn?
Probably because, as arguably the writers had no idea what to do with her in S4 and S5 other than strip her of all personality, agency & likability, what's the point in her still remaining?
*She's not going to be a hero again, Manbaby Astruc has made this PERFECTLY clear thankyouverymuch. IMHO, she's far more useful as a tool for him to take out his warped misogynist humiliations on, apparently. Why he doesn't just buy himself a blonde mannequin, call it 'Chloe' then beat it with a wooden stick whilst shouting various profanities within the privacy of his own bedroom, IDK. Maybe it's good therapy for him to expose his weird hang-ups in front of a mass audience? Hey, if it works for him... good for you, buddy! I just wish the rest of us didn't have to suffer to aid his treatment.
*As a villain, Chloe's threat level is arguably less than 0%. She is now written to be dumb as a post, no-one trusts or likes her and everything she says and does seems more cartoonishly infantile with every tortuous appearance since S3. The ONLY time she posed any vague threat is during her massively overhyped team-up with Lila where basically she was little more than a pawn to the Mary Sue Of All Lying B*tches... and those two episodes where she took over Paris as Mayor with a bunch of robots were undebately the most stupid ones of S5. Which if you've seen the competition, you KNOW that's some achievement.
*My prediction is: They're gonna rehash the same tiresome schik we saw before she got on that plane at the end of S5... perhaps they'll give us a one episode Hope Spot upon her unexpected arrival back where it looks like she's changed after attending a 'tough school' in New York/London but OH MY WORD WHAT A SURPRISE it turns out to all have been a ruse to become Queen Bee again. YAWN. She'll move straight back into her old room... Andre and Audrey will reconnect... and it'll be like nothing ever happened. In case you hadn't noticed, this show handles plot continuity or character development about as well as Marinette keeps her distance from her crushes.
*'But where does that leave Zoe?' You might ask, to which I can only respond with a succinct 'If you had the Hubble Space Telescope on full power, you still wouldn't be able to locate how little I care about that particular subject.' Maybe she'll carry on as Vesperia. Maybe she'll get a girlfriend. Maybe she'll do something halfway interesting, and give the viewership a heart attack out of sheer shock value alone. It doesn't matter to me one jot... less because I curse the ground this insipid plot device masquerading as a serious character walks on, but simply because I have no faith in the utterly abysmal writing this show has displayed for years and years now. Chloe could take over the lead role in a SHOCKING twist, they could change the name to Miraculous Queen and I STlLL wouldn't give it a second glance. The fish rots from the head-up, guys.
(Okay, so that's a bit of a lie. I would probably sneak a peek at ONE episode out of sheer curiosity, but you and I both know with HIM in charge the standard won't improve one iota. Plus, it isn't gonna happen anyway... so why am I tying myself in knots speculating about an impossible scenario?)
Anyway, I've nattered on for too long. I'll just leave you by answering Selah's somewhat disingenuous last question there about 'your favorite Chloe line of season 5'.
This implies we were watching 'Chloe'. As far as I was concerned, we weren't. Not the Chloe I fangirled for in the very beginning and got me involved in the show in the first place because I could relate so much. Not the Chloe who got so many other fans emotionally invested in her personal and familial struggles, before her character was comprehensively trashed by a ruinous creator with a grudge.
So in answer to your question Ms Victor, none. Because it simply wasn't Chloe.
#Bit of an emotional moment to end things on there#Hey I can only say what I feel#You want spontaneous raw honesty well here it is#Hope it was worth the read#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#ladybug#chloe bourgeois#ml salt#marinette dupain-cheng#disney#ml#zag#adrien agreste
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Third time’s the charm.
Lucifer x fem!Reader x Adam
Deep down, Adam is a man who craves love.
begging the Heavenly Father for a third wasn't smart or sensible, but he'd do anything to have someone to love again. So just like that, God had created Y/N, a beautiful and graceful angel.
Will their love last or is their marriage doomed to fail like the others?
Chapter 1
See my Masterlist for more!
Days in Eden usually felt warm and gentle, like a soft breeze caressing your body as you walk through the garden. That was how Adam would explain it, yet this day? It was cold, almost brutal so to say.
Lucifer and Lilith had used the forbidden fruit to tempt Eve, and it had worked. Through this heinous act, sin and evil was successfully introduced to the world. Not knowing what happened to Eve scared him, but that emotion was quickly forgotten as it was replaced with the feeling of having been betrayed for the second time by someone who was supposed to love him just as much as he loved her.
He was alone in this garden, no one to keep him company, no one to talk to and certainly no one to keep close. Time passed agonizingly slow.. he hated it. 930 agonizing years until his age had finally caught up to him. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that he was the first human soul in heaven.. meaning neither Lilith nor Eve made it, having been cast down to hell to pay for their sins, as was Lucifer.
Lucifer.. That name never failed to leave a sour taste in his mouth..
Adam was.. lonely. He missed having someone near him, with him. So like any other, sensible person?
..He prayed and begged the heavenly father for a third.
It took a bit of convincing and good arguments for God to agree to Adam’s rather big demand, and a deal was struck. Half of Adam’s heart was used to create the one he desired. It felt like a painful jab to the chest, deep inside his heart as it was practically ripped apart.
To his surprise, it only took a few short moments that felt like an eternity. There she was.. probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She looked.. dangerously beautiful. Adam looked at the heavenly father with eyes glistening with the purest form of curiosity. “That’s her..?” He muttered, looking back at the woman who was solely created for him, asleep before him, no ounce of life in her.. yet.
The creator of all let out a gentle chuckle, finding the reaction of his first human to be rather endearing. “Indeed, child. This.. is Y/N. Treat her how you want to be treated and all will go well.”
And just like that, she awakened, with a soft breath that would be her first. Adam was.. starstruck to say the least. The woman’s eyes glistened in the sun like two beautiful sapphires. Looking down at herself, the practically newborn angel observed her surroundings for just a moment, looking down at herself to behold.. everything. The movement of her ten fingers, the wiggling of her toes.. It all was so new, so beautiful.
After taking everything in, Y/N raised her head to look at Adam. Looking upon him, there were a bunch of different emotions bubbling in her chest that couldn’t be put into words as easily as one might think. To her, he looked precious. It was the only thing that came to her fresh mind after taking a moment to take everything in.
“You feel.. familiar?” Y/N’s first words seemed more like a question than a statement. However, the woman wasn’t wrong. Even in Adam’s point of view he felt as if he’d known her forever. With a shy but vigorous nod, Adam straightened his posture, peering down at the angel with a sheepish grin.
That confused expression wiped off her face quicker than someone could blink. She could.. feel so many things at once in such a short amount of time. “My name is Y/N.. Who are you?” Her smile was so big that her eyes crinkled a little. Usually the first man would say something cocky. Something to boost his own ego, something pathetic that he doesn’t even realize he’s making a fool out of himself.
Adam could only feel his heart race, his blood rushing through his veins at an incredible speed. Instinctively, the first man immediately straightened his posture, the feathers of his golden wings puffing up as if to say ‘look at me. My wings are so beautiful, don’t you think?’
Clearing his throat he gave the woman a nervous yet cocky smile, arms crossed over his chest as he peered down at her as mischief glistened in his eyes. “Adam, first man to ever exist. Pretty cool, right?-“
His attempt to impress the angel would be considered pathetic, but not in the eyes of Y/N. With a kind smile she stepped forward, taking his bigger hands into hers to hold them. “You are impressive enough just being yourself, Adam. You don’t have to try to make me like you when I already do.” To think someone would be so expressive when they were created not even five minutes prior is shocking. Hearing these words from her felt.. astonishing.
With a throbbing heart he looked down onto their hands, with Y/N holding them so tenderly. Speechless. That’s the only way one could explain Adam’s current feeling. Like a lovestruck idiot, that was how he had felt in this very moment. Who wouldn’t? Having someone look at you like you’re everything was the best feeling one could ever feel. After a moment of panicking internally, Adam could finally speak up. “You think I’m impressive?” From a confident and prideful behavior he switched to one of insecurity and shame. Everything about this situation felt so familiar yet so very distant. It’s been a long time since he had someone so close, and yet so far. Truth be told, he was afraid of messing up this last chance the heavenly father had provided him with. Before he could bring another word in, the woman had noticed his uneasiness. “I might not know you yet.. but I’d like to change that.”
Her words were gentle, not once turning her head to look away from him. Y/N still held onto Adam’s hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze and that alone made his worries fade.
Just like that, a new bond has been formed between two heavenly beings. A warm, genuine smile formed onto Adam’s lips, caressfully interlocking their fingers as if she’d slip away. “Yeah.. I’d like that a lot.”
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