#anyway I’m doing alright writing Barney

[writeroutoftime]

power couple

pairing: tommy shelby x reader (requested by: anon)

summary: when michael and gina try to push everyone out of shelby company limited, you and tommy remind them who the real power couple of the family business is

warnings: swearing? (it’s peaky blinders, what can I say) 

word: 1356

a/n: I know that this request has been floating around a bit, so I hope you enjoy my take on it. my hope was that the reader came across as a badass, but I’m nervous it comes across as kinda cringey. anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this story, and I like what I came up! please enjoy, stay safe, and have a lovely day! 

oOoOo

Even after so many years, the people of Birmingham parted the streets for you and Tommy, just like the Red Sea parted for Moses. Royalty could be another way to describe the power the Shelby family name had – not that you would ever abuse your power. Everyone knew not to threaten the authority you and Tommy has as a couple. Well, almost everyone.

When you and Tommy entered the Garrison, you entered with your arms linked together. It was an equal share of power in your relationship; no one followed in the shadow of the other. You had been with the Shelby’s since the beginning and had ‘risen the ranks’ with Tommy as the company grew.

“Alright, let’s get this meeting started.” you said and gathered the attention of the room. “Let’s make this quick. I promised Charlie I’d be there for his violin concert, and I’m not going to let my baby down because you fucking lot can’t get along.” 

While there was a laughter around the pub, they knew there was truth to your statement. Tommy chuckled as you settled against the bar, drink in his and your hand, before he started the meeting. It wasn’t until he gave Michael the floor that you gave your full attention, particularly worried at Gina’s smirk.

Michael began to explain a new business opportunity for the Shelby Company Limited and called for a restructure as well. It was thorough and seemingly legitimate, but you couldn’t get behind his justification. Eventually, Gina chimed in with her two cents. “It’s simple mathematics.” she stated.

“Is it now?” you asked sarcastically, though before you could continue, Tommy subtly squeezed your hand.

The next thing you heard Michael say shocked you even more. “…I will organize an expansion into America.”

Internally, you wanted to slap Michael, but instead you kept a cool exterior for the moment. Who did Michael think he was? After everything this family did for him, he wanted to organize a coup. After all that money he lost, and Tommy taking him back, he wanted to go back to America on another business venture. As Michael went into more detail, you caught Gina’s eye, and she offered you a proud smirk over her husband’s speech. In return, you stared her down and smirked yourself when she was the first to back down.

At the same time, Tommy remained uninterested and dissatisfied with Michael’s presentation. He looked around, sipped on his whiskey, and even lit you a cigarette, which you gladly accepted. Once Michael began to talk about the ‘new generation’ and what they could offer, you scoffed.

“Tommy, y/n, you both can still do the good work you’ve always wanted to. And you can be around for Charlie’s life and any other children you have.” How dare he make any remark about your lifestyle when he led a similar one, or on your parenting style.

Your anger continued to simmer as Michael addressed the other’s in the room, but it boiled when he got to Finn. There was no way that Finn would betray his family and galivant off to New York with Michael. Besides, if he did, it would almost definitely break your heart. Finn was like a brother to you – sometimes even a son – after you had been around nearly his whole life.

Gina then handed Michael a folder. “Here is my proposal.” he said. The smack of the papers against the table echoed throughout the almost silent room. “I will be managing director, and you can be non-executive chairman.” he told Tommy.  

“And what about me?” you all but spat because you weren’t about to let Michael pushed you out of the company you had helped to scale.

Michael sensed the tension and chose his next words carefully. “There’s a spot for you too, y/n. Take a look at the future.” he said, now to both you and Tommy.

Tommy shared a look with you, and you nodded, your minds in sync. “It’s quite cold in here, Michael.” Tommy spoke as you accepted the proposal and promptly threw it into the fire, satisfied with the crackle as the flames destroyed Michael’s vision.

“Tell them the truth.” Gina injected, her eyes narrowed, as Tommy tried to move on to the next matter of business. “They can take it.” she mocked, then took a long drag of her cigarette.

Your eyes shifted expectantly towards Michael, as did Tommy’s. “Tell us the truth, Michael.” Tommy said calmly, though his voice was low and dangerous.

There was a tense pause before Michael looked between you and Tommy. “The Americans don’t want to deal with an old-fashioned backstreet razor gang. Those days are done.”

No one spoke at first after Michael’s profound statement. You heard Arthur shift, uncomfortably, in his chair, and the others in the room cast their eyes toward the ground. You walked towards Michael, and with each step, your heels reverberated throughout the room, menacingly, and you only stopped when you were mere inches from Michael’s face. “This backstreet razor gang made you who you are, Michael. You’d be nothing without us.” you snarled.

Before Michel or Gina could retort, a Lee burst into the pub, claiming that Barney had escaped. Tommy yelled at them to get him back, which left only you, Tommy, Michael, Gina, and Polly in the bar. Though, not before Arthur whispered to Michael fuck the Americans, and you gave your brother-in-law a smile and a nod of approval.

“I’m doing this for you, Tommy.” Michael said, ignoring everyone else in the room in a last-ditch attempt to save face. “It’s time, and you know it. Mum’s leaving, John’s dead, and Arthur needs help. Do you want y/n to meet a similar fate?” he asked as Tommy turned his back to Michael and leant against the fireplace. “You’ve fucked up one too many times.” he added as a low blow when Tommy didn’t respond.

Everyone, but you, flinched when Tommy threw a bottle of liquor into the fire and watched as the firer grew larger. There was a moment when you felt the heat that stifled the room, and it just wasn’t from the fire. Then, when Tommy turned back around, Michael shoved a blade in his face.

“Go on, cut me. Like the good old days. Or,” Michael proposed. “see this for what it is. A natural succession that must happen.” he pleaded with Tommy.

Tired of Michael’s bullshit, you stepped between him and your husband. “Listen here, Michael. Tommy and I gave you a place in this company, but you’ve betrayed us. Now, I’m glad you’re so worried about me, but you should be worried about yourself if you keep talking like that. Because us ‘razor gangs’ can still mess with you and your wife. You may be delusional enough to believe that you’re helping us, but don’t believe everything the Americans tell you. We’re family, Michael.” you said, feigning sweetness. “We know everything about you, and we can make your lives a living hell.” you threatened.

Tommy, proud of you and finally satisfied with Michael’s shocked expression, offered you his arm once more. “Don’t mess with me or my wife, again, and don’t be here when we come back.” Tommy spoke with finality.

As the pair of you left, you stopped next to Gina and stopped down to her level. “And you, tell your family”

“Let me guess.” she interrupted, bored. “Don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders.”

“That’s right.” you responded condescendingly. “And don’t forget which couple holds the power in this company. Really, it’s just simple mathematics.” you said as you and Tommy began to walk towards the pub’s doors. “And wipe that smirk off your face, Michael.” you added even though his back was to you.

Michael and Gina’s confidence waivered as they watched you and Tommy saunter down the street, arms linked again. If they believed they could dethrone you and Tommy with the prospect of an American business expansion and money to keep your docile, they had another thing coming. You and Tommy ruled Small Heath, and you weren’t going to let anyone take that away from you.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 10

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count:1843

Warnings: Slow Start, Language.

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Annnddd I’m back! so I know it’s been a while since the last update and I just wanna thank you all for having patience with me while I finished up with college, just a warning this chapter may feel a little awkward to read due to me just getting back into my writing mind so apologises in advance for this one. Anyways I’ll quit blabbering, Enjoy everyone! :)

This was my day of reckoning, my punishment for all the bad deeds I’d done over the past couple of years…I was finally being sent to school. Okay maybe that was a tad dramatic, but can you blame me? I mean who wants to be trapped in a building against their will for 7 hours straight learning about dead guys?! No sane person would willingly agree to that crap!

I’ve tried just about everything to avoid my approaching doom, hell I even went as far as hiding in the basement surrounded by cobwebs to try and get out of this, but as per usual neither Steve or Bucky took mercy on me, hence why in currently trapped between the two. “You are aware I’m perfectly capable of walkin’ by myself aren’t ya? The looping of the arms is not needed boys” I swear down these two are being more annoying than usual, and I didn’t think that was humanly possible cause these two are basically the living embodiment of annoyance. Steve turned and raised his eyebrows at me, shaking his head as he let out a small laugh, “Yeah there’s absolutely no way I’m fallin’ for that again, last time that happened it look me and Buck an hour to get you outta that tree”. Ah crap there goes that plan.

I’m pretty sure the noise I made wasn’t even human, it was a mix between a seal and a possessed monkey “I’m not gonna get outta this am I?” “Nope” and que another frustrated groan. “Is this payback for the time I placed that bucket of flour above your bedroom door and watched the both of you turn into ghosts? If it is then I want you to know I regret nothin’” both of them stopped and glared at me, for some reason they didn’t find that as funny as I did, and I have no idea why. Okay whatever you do y/n don’t laugh, even if Steve’s face looks like a slapped arse don’t laugh! A snicker slipped past my lips and a few seconds later I was full on laughin’.  Goddamn it.

Both of em just let out a bunch of sighs and started draggin’ my butt along the street, wait there’s somethin’ I haven’t tried yet…in hindsight this is completely stupid but screw it. “OH MY GOD LOOK A SPACESHIP!” I’m pretty sure poor Bucky jumped outta his skin, Steve ended up trippin’ up and falling down, I’ll admit that I felt bad about but hey may plan worked! So why am I still standin’ there?… maybe we try this thing called running y/n! I quickly pulled my arm away from Bucky and used my new-found freedom to run in the opposite direction of them, I could hear the shouts of protest from the both of them, so I decided to kindly ignore them and absolutely leg it.  “GODAMMN IT Y/N! THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME THIS MORNIN’!” when were the boys gonna catch on that I didn’t wanna go? Do I need to prepare a firework show and blast it in their faces or somethin’…probably.  

I know I probably shouldn’t be smiling, but the feeling of the wind flowing through my hair as my feet hit the ground made me feel free, after so many years I could finally begin acting my age and enjoy my childhood. I finally felt content with my life, which is probably the opposite of what I should be feeling at this moment in time, considering I was currently making my grand escape. And to completely honest I’ve got no bloody clue as to where I am. I glanced behind me to see where the hell those idiots were, to my surprise Steve was directly behind me, Buck was somewhere in the back holdin’ his knee and I’m guessing the daft sod decked it. Why am I not surprised? Okay maybe I should of kept my mouth shut cause literally a second later my foot tripped over a rock and, you guessed correctly, I landed on my ass for the thousandth time!

“Sh*t! Cr*p! B*lls! That f**king hurt!” and that ladies and gentlemen is my fine command of the queens English, a groan of pain made me loose my train of thought as I turned my head to Steve, to put it simply he was laid flat on his back with his eye closed. Well there’s the rush of guilt I’ve been waiting for, “Sh*t Steve I’m sorry, you okay down there tough guy?” I quickly offered him my hand to help him up, I mean it’s the least I could do. Steve’s hand grabbed mine, a not so quiet grunt of pain made me feel even worse, quick question why am I such an assh*le at times? “Yeah, I’m fine y/n, don’t worry about it you know for a fact I’ve had worse” a quiet sigh left my lips as I brought him in for a hug, which was a tiny bit awkward due to the height difference. Once we pulled away from each other, I couldn’t supress the need to check him for anymore injuries, much to Steve’s embarrassment and Bucky’s amusement, “Jesus I’m gonna have to start wrapping ya up in blankets and pillows, Steve how the hell did you manage to get a bruise on your ear?!”

The sudden gasp behind me pretty much answered the question for me, it’s safe to say barney boy is in trouble…for the first in my life Bucky looks pretty f**king terrified of me, perfect. Slowly I started inching towards him, the glare I was sending him would probably make a demon cry for his mum…so yeah imma go kill the boy. I didn’t even have to say anything, he just started runnin’, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE STOLE MY FR**KING PUDDIN’ AND THE PUNK KNOWS I LOVE MY PUDDIN!’” YEP DEFINITELY KILLIN’ HIM “HE IS A SMALL AND GENTLE BOY HOW IN THE NAME OF HELL CAN YOU EVEN THINK OF LAYIN’ A HAND ON ‘IM?!” god this sounds like a bleeding soap opera.

 At this point I wouldn’t be surprised of someone called the cops on us, all everyone woulda seen was a big lad runnin’ for his life as a small lass tried to murder him while a smaller lad ran after the pair yellin’ for em to quit it.  Now that I think about, that’s actually hilarious. Wait, where was I? ah yes the murdering of one James Barnes…okay that is not a normal sentence I am aware. “HE.STOLE.MY.PUDDIN’! THAT A CRIME WORTHY OF DEATH!” oh for f**ksake “HOW THE HELL DO YA KNOW IT WAS HIM?! DID YOU NOT THINK IT COULDA BE BECCA?!” I think he made a sudden realisation, cause the dumbass stopped running and BOOM I was on the freakin’ floor. Again. We both groaned, mine was mostly in annoyance more than anything, but seriously the bloody floor is quickly becoming me best mate! “…. It just dawned on me that that could be a possibility…” if my neck twisted any quicker I’m 100% sure that I’d end up doin’ that weird owl thing “Oh now you realise?! Ya gonna say sorry to Steve or not?” a few seconds of silence gave me my answer. “Don’t give me that look y/n! I ain’t doing s**t till I’ve got some evidence so he’s still under my list of suspects!” oh my Jesus Christ this is gonna be the day I get arrested for murder isn’t it?

“Barnaby…you have exactly five seconds to run for your life so I highly recommend you get your affairs in order and kiss ya ass goodbye” oh hey look at that I didn’t yell at him! Well done me I’m so proud! “could you two quit trying to kill each other for 5 minutes?! We’re already late enough as is it and I ain’t explainin’ to the teacher why Buck’s outta it on the floor!” my f**kin god Steve just yelled! At me! why do I never have a camera when this s**t happens?  “Jeez, alright I’ll murder him later, calm your damn t*ts Rogers” and cue the sound of barely contained frustration in 3,2,1….

“I’m beginning to get the feelin’ that you don’t like me y/n” oh really? I wonder what gave that away “wow you catch on quickly don’t ya Barnaby?” by the looks of things I’m really doing wonders for his ego, buck’s head looks like it’s gotten smaller so the risk of him turning into a hot air balloon’s gone down. The feeling of a pair of eyes glaring at the back of my head once again reminded me that the blonde boy was quickly getting tired of our crap, my worst fears were confirmed once I met Steve’s surprisingly intimidating glare…how he manages to be both adorable and beyond f**king terrifying is a mystery to me. “Okay I’m comin’ just stop staring at me like I just murdered your kitten!” and the little s**t has the nerve to smirk and look pleased with himself, ugh he’s been hanging ‘round me and Bucky too long that’s for sure.

“Ya know Buck and you are gonna be the death of me” right do I be offended or pleased with that statement? “actually, if anything it’s gonna be the pair of you that send me to an early grave cause god knows the both of ya don’t know how to stay outta trouble” two muffled sounds of protest came from my left and from behind me, “what’s that supposed to mean?!” once again the point has been missed “do you really wanna know the answer to that? I’ve got my report and presentation ready on how you two are a pair of numpties”.

Maybe that was a tad harsh…okay wait never mind it seems I’ve learned how to fly again with the assistance of one James Buchannan Barnes. “this is coming from the girl who can’t walk five feet without fallin’ over somethin’?” as much as I hate to admit it the walking embodiment of frustration and annoyance has a point “what you call fallin’ I call floor hugs, now how about you pUT ME DOWN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” wait when did Steve walk off? See this is what happens when an overgrown ape demands attention. I don’t even have to look at Buck to know he’s givin’ me that look that says, “what the hell?” and “I’m not surprised by this” at the same time, “Nah I don’t think that’s gonna happen doll” the temptation to kick ‘im where the sun doesn’t shine is too much to bare for me at this point. “And you wonder why I love Steve more that you” Buck’s face kinda looked like someone just shoved a whole lemon in his mouth, I’m almost certain that he woulda dropped me on my ass if it wasn’t for the fact that Steve came over and dragged us both through the gates of hell.

This is gonna be so much fun!……said no-one ever.  

Okay…maybe it didn’t suck as much a thought it did, hopefully my skills as a writer will come back for the next couple of chapters XD Thanks for reading ! :)

Rose xxx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[365days365movies]

February 2, 2021: Pretty Woman (Review)

Before I jump right into this review, I would like to say something about this movie: it’s timeless, while not aging super well for a couple of reasons. Those reasons make this film a tad problematic, and they are as follows, at least according to me:

Prostitution: Look, in NO WAY can I claim to be an expert, or very knowledgeable on culture in the world of sex workers, duh. But, given changing opinions in this during the past three decades since this film came out, this is bound to seem a little dated. Still, some credit for Edward not being...terribly condescending to her throughout this movie. Again, this is just something I’m noting. If anyone with more expertise knows more about how sex workers feel about this film, hit me up; I’m quite curious.

Edward: Speaking of Edward, though, I know that his character came off at the time as similar to Gordon Gekko from Wall Street (can’t confirm, never seen it), and stereotypical businessman characters (and actual people) from the time, and that he was probably considered quite suave and cool at that time. And don’t get me wrong, Edward is...fine...but living in 2021, and in the current political climate in America...dude comes off like a STRAIGHT sociopath throughout this movie. Yeah, no, less Prince Charming, more Prince Harming. I saw somebody describe him as a romantic Patrick Bateman, and GODDAMN does that resonate. That Zodiac Killer joke from the Recap? That was only slightly kidding, real talk.

I’m sure there are more (especially in terms of gender politics and sexism, but I AM NOT QUALIFIED ENOUGH FOR THAT), but these are the ones that came to me during the watching of the film. Anyway, shall we continue? Because I really DID like this movie, despite some problems with it. Let’s get the Review started!

Review

Cast and Acting: 9/10

Edward might be a sociopath, but I don’t lame Richard Gere for that at all. He works through the character to create some legit emotional development for him, and I appreciate it quite a bit. But he’s not the draw here. First, let’s talk about the supporting cast here. Yes, really.  Héctor Elizondo, a Garry Marshall regular, IS A GOD in this movie. I love Barney so much, you have no idea. Laura San Giacomo is a quirky best friend, and I love her. Ralph Bellamy plays a very sweet man in David Morse (even if I disagree with his business). And finally, Jason Alexnder’s Phil Stuckey is IMPRESSIVELY slimy, if a little much at times. Still, he made a good villain in a film that didn’t necessarily need one.

But you all know. You know who takes the entire show here, I know you do. That 9 up there? Sure, the supporting cast carries about 2 of those points, and Gere has one...but JULIA FRIGGIN’ ROBERTS, ACTRESS QUEEN OF ROMANCIA is the star and glue of this movie! She’s perfect, she’s charming, she’s quirky, and she’s absolutely fantastic. Holy shit, I understand solely from this movie, why Julia Roberts became as much of a star as she is.

Plot and Writing: 8/10

Roger Ebert called this a good take on the Pygmalion and Cinderella formulas, both of which the movie heartily acknowledges. And, uh...yeah, it’s a legitimately good take on those formulae, while still being its own unique film, and it’s getting credit for that! It’s interesting to me that J.F. Lawton is the writer, because he...he didn’t do any great things after this one. Under Siege, maybe. Blankman, maybe. I haven’t seen either, so I can’t comment. However, he also wrote Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death. Um. What. Pardon me. Wut. Anyway, plot’s good, character development is apparent through the writing and story, and the only real problem I have is that the time scale is literally a week. And it’s a fairy tale, yeah, and the cheesy nature of some of it definitely shows that. So, not perfect, but still good and unique!

Directing and Cinematography: 7/10

Garry Marshall, former advisor of the land of Romancia...yeah, you did alright. Nothing over-the-top amazing, but not bad by any means. It’s good, but it’s an average kind of good. Same goes for Charles Minsky’s cinematography, which is quite good, but never really breathtaking to me. Good, just not necessarily a cinematic masterpiece.

Production and Art Design: 8/10

The dichotomy between Vivian’s street world and Edward’s high-society world is very well visually portrayed, I gotta say. Most of that isn’t exactly iconically distinctive, but it’s still good. I say MOST of it because, well...Julia Roberts, man. The outfits she’s given in this movie are insanely iconic, even to this day, and they really pick up during the second half of the film. The polo dress, the Rodeo drive dress, the GODDAMN RED OPERA DRESS! It’s all gorgeous, and I genuinely love it all. But one wardrobe does not a movie make. Hence, it’s not perfect, but it’s still up there.

Music and Editing: 7/10

How goes it, James Newton Howard? This won’t be the last time I see you this year, I’m sure. And your score here is great! ANd I don’t remember it...at all! Literally, all of that music is drowned out for me by Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman.” By the way, DID NOT REALIZE that that wasn’t Elvis Presley, nor did my girlfriend. You learn something every day. But anyway, here’s the deal: this film is Dirty Dancing in reverse, in terms of music. And slightly worse than that. A lot of pop songs are peppered throughout this movie, and they’re all famous and good...but they aren’t really tied to this movie much, outside of “Pretty Woman.” But they’re mostly fitting with the times presented in the movie, unlike some of Dirty Dancing’s soundtrack. Not as iconic, but better fitting with the atmosphere. There you have it.

I mean, yeah, a LOT, even. At least 78% approval from me!

Pretty Woman is a cheesy yet heartfelt fairy tale of a movie, and it’s sweet all throughout. Problematic or not, I understand how this film but a crown on the heads of the King and Queen of Romancia. ALL HAIL KING GERE AND QUEEN ROBERTS!

But wait...on the horizon. A rival, and far larger nation, is arming its people, led by a fearsome warrior Queen, and one of her most faithful Kings. The Holy Romance Empire is on the march, and it wants blood. Until then...they will get no sleep.

February 3, 2021: Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

#pretty woman #garry marshall #richard gere #vivian ward #edward lewis #ralph bellamy #jason alexander #Héctor Elizondo #laura san giacomo #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #user365 #romance movie #userbeatriz #romance february

[black-mesa-hive-au]

Entry 3

(on their way to Dr. Kleiner’s office) Calhoun: So, doc- how's your day been?

Dr. Freeman: (silent for a minute, then gives a slight nod and thumbs up)

Calhoun: Hmm...that's good, that's good. What did you have for lunch?

Dr. Freeman: [pasta.]

Calhoun: (nods slowly) Mm...pasta is good. I like spaghetti. Alfredo is OKAY...but I'm not a big fan of cheese.

Dr. Freeman: (nods slightly, putting his hands in his pockets)

Calhoun: say….what do you think we're gonna learn? Like you got any theories as to any of this, really?

Dr. Freeman: (silent for a minute, then shakes his head no)

Calhoun: Me either. Watch it be a small little thing that'll easily pass (chuckle) I bet this is all just a misunderstanding!

Dr. Freeman: (shakes his head no harshly)

Calhoun: Huh? What makes you think that?

Dr. Freeman: [........]

Calhoun: it's fine, you don't have to answer….I was just curious. I'm kinda bombarding you with questions I guess. I'm just anxious.

(They reach the door to Dr. Kliener's office, Dr. Freeman taking the lead and knocking on the door. Moments later, a pair of eyes poke through the blinds of the window.)

Dr. Kleiner: (opens the door) Oh hello Gordon! And Barney 2...2295?

Calhoun: I prefer Calhoun if that's no trouble to you. 

Dr. Kleiner: Ah! Hello then Calhoun. Come in come in! Apologies for the mess….I've been working all day and making a mess of things! (he motions the two in, shutting the door behind him. He locks the office up one by one. The door, the blinds, covers the vents….ect.) 

Calhoun: wow, that's uh- a lotta security. 

Dr. Kleiner: You can never be too careful. Is that recording device on?

Calhoun: it's been on this whole time, sir.

Dr. Kleiner: Ah! good! Just make sure this stays between us for now. Video diaries is a very good hobby to have, especially during these times. 

Calhoun: I guess so, whatever "these times" are. 

Dr. Kleiner: Well Mr. Calhoun, these times (grabs a mug of coffee from the counter, probably 4 hours old or so) are getting worse by the minute. 

Calhoun: Oh...well that sure is reassuring.

Dr. Kleiner: (chuckles) I don't like this anymore than you do. So, I believe it's time for me to elaborate. 

Calhoun: Please do doc, Freeman's got work to finish and I've got a shift coming up….

Dr. Kleiner: Don't worry, don't worry. I'll try to be brief. Now keep in mind the most I know is from mumbles heard from those who have been in contact with administration recently. I've also done some "snooping" around. A lot of my intel isn't exact, but I feel it should be close enough! To start, Dr. Freeman here told me 2 of your dorm mates disappeared, correct?

Calhoun: Yes sir, Gilbert and Michael.

Dr. Kleiner: Pardon?

Calhoun: Oh! Er- 3006 and 1225 

Dr. Kleiner: Yes! Them! The 1st generation clone and the new generation clone. Well I looked up their files earlier this week. 3006...I believe you called them "Micheal", finished training a week earlier, as you know. Their report was near identical to your fellow clones- emphasis on near. They were exactly 2.5% below parameters. 

Calhoun: 2.5%?? That's like, nothing! He worked perfectly fine from what I saw. He did his work, came home to eat and sleep and woke up and got back to work like the test of us. 

Dr. Kleiner: See- it sounds outrageous, but knowing black mesa I wouldn't doubt it. May I remind you I've been here way before you were even produced. Black Mesa has a history of hiding things under their ugly rug. Anyways, my apologies for getting off track! As Dr. Freeman knows, I (he chuckles) tend to do that. But yes, I believe they took Micheal away due to that percentage off, of course. I could possibly prove that if given the other one's file but I couldn't find it. Their file should've been with the other 1st generation clones. I even looked through the other generations just in case it got mixed up but I found nothing. It's all very suspicious. 

Calhoun: I can tell ya that Gilbert showed no problems at all. 

Dr. Kleiner: No doubt about it. The best theory I had was that Gilbert wasn't supposed to be here in the first place and got under their radar somehow. But that's unlikely due to the fact he's been in commission for 3 years. 

Calhoun: Listen, doc- are you a believer in the uh….theory?

Dr. Kleiner: The theory? Like ethics or-

Calhoun: No, no the theory about clone deteriorating- whatever it's called. 

Dr. Freeman: (taps on Calhoun's shoulder) [b-a-r-n-p-l-e-t-i-o-n]

Calhoun: Is that really what you scientists call it? Barnpletion? I thought it would be some sort of scientific name or something.

Dr. Freeman: (shrugs) 

Dr. Kleiner: oh yes! Barnpletion! I do believe in it, yes. (He takes another sip of coffee) I see where you're going with this. 

Calhoun: Yeah! Gilbert was a first generation clone, been here 3 years. He might've reached his time, like the theory states. He's definitely fairly self aware- and he questioned quite a bit. He'd ask me a lot about existential things. I didn't question it much at the time I guess. 

Dr. Kleiner: Well then! That helps quite a bit actually! (he rummaged around, grabbing a pen and clipboard and scribbling things down) So, how exactly self aware was he? 

Calhoun: Well, he didn't like working all the time. Which I mean, most of us don't but we don't talk about it. Cause you know, if we don't like working then they'll probably throw us out or something. But like, he'd talk about how this is all we're going to be doing all our life, just working and working. Ya know, we're made not to think things like that. Made not to question what the future is going to be like- but Gilbert moved past it.

Dr. Kleiner: (writes some more down) Okay, how often would he tell you this?

Calhoun: Mainly before curfew. He'd come back to the dorm, get some water and ask me this stuff.

Dr. Kleiner: Was Micheal apart of these conversations?

Calhoun: Well- yes. He wouldn't participate that much. I think his programming was stopping him from taking too much in, he was around a week old anyways, so he didn't have much time to become vulnerable? I don't really understand exactly how all this works, but that's the best grasp I have on it.

Dr. Kleiner: It makes sense enough! It's the best we have right now. The administration might've taken note. That'll clear it up easily, but that still raises the question of what do they do with the clone? There's no real ethical way to dispose of one isn't there? And you were also apart of those conversations, wouldn't they get rid of you too? 

Calhoun:.......

Dr. Freeman: (nervously waves his hands in rejection)

Dr. Kleiner: Oh! Pardon me I- mean, er- 

Calhoun: It's fine sir, it's a question we all have to get to eventually.(he takes a deep breath) I've only heard rumors about what happens when you're decommissioned. None of them make me feel any better….. God I hope they dont take me for all that crap.

Dr. Kleiner: I hope so too Mr. Calhoun. I hope so. (He takes a quick breath) Anyways we can't say for sure if Gilbert was decommissioned yet. I've got more to tell you, I'll be quick so you can get my protege back to work. A government representative recently came by-

Calhoun: Government? Since when? (He clears his throat) I mean when was the government here, sir?

Dr. Kleiner: Just a week ago.

Calhoun: Are we being shut down?

Dr. Kleiner: No I'm afraid the government isn't going to help us. The government usually never does, remember that Mr. Calhoun. We have to help ourselves.

Calhoun: I will try to remember that sir.

Dr. Kleiner: Sorry about that! I don't know what got into me just now (chuckles) pardon me. Anyways the representative came by, no warning to any of us. Dr. Vance talked with him. The man of course didn't tell him much, but he did ask about the rest of your clone colleagues. Not to mention this was the day of the disappearance. 

Calhoun: Okay doc, lemme get this straight. So you're saying- that the government could've taken them?

Dr. Kleiner: They would've been the perfect subjects! Complete opposites yet the same DNA, not to mention they were both considered incomplete. Either that or it's just a coincidence the representative was here and the two were decommissioned. 

Calhoun: This is- a lot if I'm being honest. It's taking me a bit to think it through…Dr. Vance, do you think we could talk to him?

Dr. Kleiner: I was going to suggest that. I'll be sure to have him stop by to talk with you two. You'd probably also want to talk with Azian, she's the one who's been collecting information on Black Mesa's messy history for years, she ought to have something. 

Calhoun: (turning to Gordon) You good with that?

Dr. Freeman: (nods)

Calhoun: Alright then, we'll stop by again whenever we can to see them. Thank you for all this- we gotta run.

Dr. Kleiner: Ah yes, I kept you too long! We did have a lot to talk about! You're a kind man, Mr. Calhoun. No offense but I don’t think your fellow clones would've done anything about this, let alone think too hard about it. 

Calhoun: Oh trust me sir, if they listened to me they would. 

Dr. Kleiner: (moves over to the door, opening it for the two) Dr. Vance should be here in the morning. I'll see you then Mr. Calhoun. (he stops Calhoun, grabbing him by the shoulder, whispering) keep an eye on Freeman. 

Calhoun: (nervously nods)

(Dr. Kleiner shuts the door, leaving them in the hallway)

Calhoun: Well, hey, we're doomed.

Dr. Freeman: (shakes his head no)

Calhoun: Well we can't stop the government! I'll be dead for sure if we even try! 

Dr. Freeman: [.....]

Calhoun: God I don't know. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight. If I'm gone the next morning you'll know what happened.

Dr. Freeman: (frowns)

Calhoun: Yea, me too doc. (reaches to turn off the recorder)

-end of recording-

#Captain's log recording #Recording by barney 2295 #4/7/97 #entries #Z292ZXJubWVudCBtYW4

[cantsaythetword]

Clash of the (Ticklish) Titans

~A/N  - ANON HAS GRACED US ALL WITH ANOTHER PROMPT!!! (Or at least, has graced me. Now I gotta write something halfway decent lol.) This time we’re going for Sam, Steve and Bucky, as outlined in the ask below:

“heyyo i am back with another prompt lolz !!! anyways, could u write a fic about sam tickling bucky n steve bcuz he wants to know who is more ticklish but as it turns out, they’re both equally ticklish but in different spots n sorta like it ? thank u !!!☺️”

- Anon

So yes! Just some good old tword fluff. Love that sort of thing. Hope you do too! And I especially hope this anon likes the fic! I think this is actually one of the longer ones that I’ve written, so that’s cool!

Also don’t worry delightful-fics your fic is in progress! I’ll be posting it soon :D.

- Enoy! ~

*  Masterpost Link *

“At least I don’t need a shield!”

“Said the man with the metal arm!”

The hell are those two yapping about now? Sam thought to himself, headed towards the main area of the compound. 

With the rest of the avengers out doing... avenger things... Sam, Bucky and Steve were left to their own devices. For Sam, this was a brief moment of peace in their normally bustling lifestyle. A chance to recharge, to relax, to just be a normal American citizen.

But Steve and Bucky were not ones to relax. 

Opening the doors, Sam was met by the two super soldiers - apparently in the middle of some sort of friendly argument. 

“I can’t get drunk! That’s a bonus!” Steve exclaimed, not noticing the third party in the room. 

“That’s a bonus to you? Well I’d expect just as much from an old man!” Bucky joked back, giving Steve a smirk.

“Old ma- Technically you’re still older than me!”

Sam, after rolling his eyes at the pair, gave a purposeful cough. “What are you guys on about now?”

Turning to look at the Falcon, Steve chuckled. “Bucky here claims that he is the superior supersoldier-”

“Super Assassin.” The man corrected, giving Sam a grin.

“Whatever.” Captain America continued. “So I decided to prove him wrong.”

Sam shook his head, snickering to himself at the antics. “You two are a weird pair.” He folded his arms together. “But, I’ll indulge in this little Clash of the Titans.”

Bucky and Steve smiled at each other, but their eyes glinted with the desire for victory. 

“So. What are your arguments?” Sam sat on the sofa, interlocking his fingers. “You first Steve.”

“Alright.” Steve began, as Bucky sat down behind him.

After almost 10 long minutes of Steve outlining his superior Super Soldier characteristics (including, but not limited to, his strength, size, speed, good looks, boyish charm and patriotism), he gave a bow, and sat down next to Bucky, as Sam nodded to himself.

“Alright, not bad, though I’m unsure how being patriotic makes you a supe-”

“Trust me it’s important.” Steve interrupted.

“Ok then..” Sam’s eyebrows raised for a brief moment before he let out a sigh. “Barney, you’re up.”

Steve chuckled at the new nickname, as Bucky glared. 

“Right.” The Winter Soldier grasped his hands like a businessman. “First of all, there’s my arm. It’s just so much cooler than a shield.”

Continuing for just over half of Steve’s time (thankfully) about all the ‘cool perks’ that Hydra had been ‘kind enough’ to bestow on Bucky, the man thanked Sam and sat down again. 

After thinking for a few seconds, Sam stood in front of the supersoldiers. 

“Gentlemen, thank you for your pitches.” He announced. “I have made my decision.”

The pair sat up straight on the couch, eagerly awaiting their friend’s results. 

“You are both equally strong.”

Steve and Bucky’s jaws dropped in a mixture of betrayal and disbelief. Each attempted to argue why they were so obviously stronger than the other.

Sam raised his hands to quiet the two. “You’ve both been so obsessive over your strengths, that you’ve forgotten to compare your weaknesses.”

“That’s... actually a good point.” Bucky gave a chuckle, thinking of his thorough knowledge of a particular weakness of Steve’s. 

“Well, first of all we should get rid of our weapons.” The Captain gestured to Bucky’s metal arm. 

Bucky held his arm protectively, “Hey! This is a prosthetic!”

“It’s also a weapon Buck, come on!” Steve held his hands out, and (with a grumpy sigh and a dramatic eye roll) Bucky detached his arm. 

“Well, Steve’s virtually defenceless without his shield.” 

“You’re not much better off with only 3 limbs.”

“You can’t back down from a fight, even if you’re going to lose!”

“Hey I just look out for the little guy ok?”

The pair continued listing the weaknesses of each other, with Sam struggling to keep up with the bickering. Steve would mention something about Bucky relying on guns to win fights, Bucky would retort with a reminder of how Steve would ‘hide behind the shield’ during combat. 

Finally, Bucky seemed to have run out of ideas, as Steve claims Bucky didn’t get the ‘looks upgrade’ from his serum. 

Sam gave an ‘oh no he didn’t’ look at the two, before Bucky gave a sly smirk.

“Steve’s ticklish.”

Simultaneously, Sam burst out in fits of laughter, as Steve’s face flushed a deep crimson. 

“Bucky’s ticklish too!” Steve stuttered out, giving Sam a shove to pull him out of his giggles.

“Yeah, but we both know you’re worse.” 

“AMERICA’S GREATEST WAR HERO IS TICKLISH?!” Sam finally strung together a coherent sentence, before descending into laughter once more.

“I am not!” Steve protested, but Bucky watched his arms pull in to protect his sensitive torso, and his toes curl into the floor. 

“Well...” Sam took some deep breaths to calm himself down. “There’s only one way to find out!”

Bucky grinned at Steve, and tackled him to the ground. The pair wrestled for the upper hand, before Sam called out to them.

“Hey, hey!” He pulled the two apart. “I think we need an impartial judge, hmm?”

Steve nodded, knowing that if his childhood torturer was left to tickle him he would be a giggling mess in seconds. 

Bucky looked at the Falcon. “Fine. Are you gonna tickle us then?”

Sam nodded, an evil look in his eyes. But who could blame him? It wasn’t every day you got to tickle two super human warriors. Especially two who were so well known for being almost indestructible. 

Steve and Bucky lay down on the floor, interlocking their fingers with their hands behind their heads. Bucky looked rather calm, seeing as he was about to have the absolute crap tickled out of him. Steve, on the other hand, was far from calm, cool, and collected.

He flinched at every small move around him, a nervous giggle threatening to spill out of his mouth (which was pulled taut in an anxious smile). Watching as Sam knelt down by his left side (between him and Bucky), Steve visibly tensed up, arms almost crashing down to his sides in an effort to protect himself. 

“What’s the matter punk?” Bucky teased, smirking over at his best friend. “Too weak to take a few tickles?”

Bucky knew exactly what sort of teases to use on Steve to break down any defences the solider had, and saying the dreaded word was definitely a personal favourite. 

“Come on Rogers, you don’t want to let this guy win, do you?” Sam tilted his head toward Bucky, but Steve could hear the chuckle in his voice. 

“Let’s just get this over with...” The blond man took a shaky breath, eyes still crinkled from the helpless smile on his face. 

“Yes sir.” Sam grinned, before forming a claw with his hands and dropping them onto the two bellies beside him.

Immediately, Steve began squirming and giggling, trying with every last drop of willpower to keep his hands up. Bucky, aside from a few grunts and groans, simply squeezed his eyes shut and was (mostly) able to block out the sensations. This didn’t last long though, as Sam’s hands drifted towards the hips, Bucky let out a splutter.

“NYEHAH SAHAHM!” Bucky’s hips launched off the floor, wriggling every way possible to try and escape the torturous hands.

“Nohohow whohoho’s weheheak?” Steve giggled, letting out a yelp every so often as Sam’s fingers grazed over a sensitive spot.  

Chuckling at the pair’s competitiveness, Sam let his hands fall into his lap. “Well, so far you’re both hilariously ticklish, so that doesn’t really help much.”

Before the two could argue differently, Sam thrust his fingers towards the two men’s necks. Surprisingly, neither reacted particularly violently. A few giggles from both sides here and there, but nothing like the previous spots. 

He was about to move down to the legs, when he brushed up against Bucky’s ear. And sure, Bucky had tried to stop himself - he really had! But out came the most adorable childlike squeak. 

“What was that Starbucks?” Sam grinned, repeating the motion.

“NothING!” Bucky, once again, let out let out a rather high pitched squeak. 

“More like squeal-bucks, huh SaHAM?” Steve chuckled, as he jerked his head to the side while Sam’s fingers brushed past his ear.

After a few more (adorable) squeaks from Bucky, and almost nothing from Steve, Sam decided to move down to the legs.

As his hands moved towards the feet of his little tickle victims, Sam noticed that Steve seemed to tense when he was near his knees. 

“Ticklish knees Captain Crunch?” Sam asked, forming pincers with his hands like a crab. “And just when I thought Bucky was losing...”

“No! Sam dohohon’t!” Steve giggled, yelping each time Sam squeezed his knees. Bucky’s reaction seemed more reflexive than ticklish, as his legs bounced but there was no hint of laughter. 

Thankfully, Steve provided all the entertainment needed.

Switching rapidly from pinches to scratches to gentle stroking under the knee put Steve into a hilarious giggle-fit. He would strangle out a “SAHAHAHAM!” or a “PLEHEHEASE!” but nothing could stop the endless tingles. As a final, desperate attempt to win, Steve yelled out “HIS FEEHEEHEET!” 

Bucky’s face morphed to horror, as the begging continued. 

“GET HIHIS FEEHEET!” 

Sam stopped, and turned to look at Bucky. “His feet, you say?” 

“Sam. Sam don’t.” Bucky whimpered, kicking his legs to try to avoid Sam’s grasp. Unfortunately, it was of no use.

Slipping Bucky’s ankles into a headlock, Sam dragged a single finger up the man’s sole. And it was as if you killed the man.

“SAHAHAHAHAHA!” Bucky tried to form words, but the electric pulses firing through his nervous system fried his brain and any capability of communication he once had. “NAHAHAHAHA!

“Wow!” Sam chuckled, struggling to keep Bucky’s feet in his arms. “I think we’ve found our weak spot!”

Steve smirked at his best friend, who was currently dying on the floor. “And I think we’ve found our loser, wouldn’t you agree Buck?”

Managing to sum up the remaining strength he had, Bucky shook his head, before descending into madness once more. 

“No? Really?” Sam laughed. “Steve barely cracks a smile when I tickle his feet!”

And, as predicted, Steve simply clamped his mouth shut with a slight grin as Sam scribbled his fingernails over the Captain’s feet.

Once Sam returned to the poor red faced soldier, and began once again wrecking his feet, Bucky caved.

His arms came plunging down to try to push Sam off his poor feet. Steve cheered in victory, but it was very short lived, as Bucky let out a cry.

“GET HIS AHAHARMPITS!”

Instantly, Sam lunged on top of Steve and dug his fingers into his armpits. 

And Steve squealed.

Sam had never heard such high pitched giggly laughter come from the normally stoic super-soldier, so he was thoroughly encouraged to torture the poor war hero.  

Once Bucky had recovered from his ticklish endeavour, he sat up at Steve’s hands and grinned down at the red-faced giggle monster. 

All he had to say was 3 little words, before Steve’s arms almost broke Sam’s hands with the force at which they slammed down.

“Tickle tickle Steve.” 

Bucky laughed as Sam yelped in pain, hands still curled in Steve’s armpits. 

“GEHEHET OHOHOUT!” Steve squealed, tugging at Sam’s arms.

“You need to let me move you asshole!” Sam yelled, as he pulled his hands out and held them in pain.

Finally, the tickling had stopped, and the three caught their breath.

“Well.” Sam chuckled, his hands no longer throbbing. “That was a complete failure.”

There was no response from the exhausted test subjects on the floor.

“You guys done?”

Steve’s eyes didn’t look up from the floor. “I mean... you don’t have to stop...” He muttered.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“This kind of weakness isn’t too bad.” Bucky grinned. 

“Aw how cute.” Sam chuckled, ruffling the pair’s hair. “Well, let’s really investigate this weakness of yours!”

#fic #prompt #mine #WOOP WOOP THIS WAS A PRETTY LONG ONE #HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

[flowerymoonlight]

your company

pairing: Clint x Bucky

genre: fluffy fluffity fluff i aint hurting my boys any time soon

word count: 2,253

summary: James turns Clint’s evening around.

warnings: unhealthy times to drink coffee, don't do it kids

author’s note: another one for @stuckonjbbarnes‘ challenge!! and @piper-koko-barnes-rogers i know we talked about this ages ago but its here

Clint was stupid. A world-class idiot. How could he even consider the possibility that Barney had changed? Too much wishful thinking was his guess.

When Barney had invited him to his new apartment for beers all the parts of Clint’s brain were flaring red. But he said yes anyway. It wasn’t that Barney wasn’t terrible to him, because he was, but Clint could never really write him off. There must be something wrong with his brain.

He got to Barney’s place alright, just in time to be there and catch the no-filter slurring. Yeah, he was expecting it from Barney honestly, but he wasn’t counting on Jesse and Ray to be there with him.

Jesse and Ray were like cereal and milk, always around each other, and they had quickly befriended Barney in middle school with their one common goal of making fun of Clint for breathing. No, he definitely did not still have bottled up rage for these two.

And, of course, as they were all drunk off their asses – probably a little high too – the insults just started pouring like rain. The worst part wasn’t even when Barney laughed at what they said as if it was a joke, or when he joined them. The worst part was the Clint was so used to it that he couldn’t even find the strength to react to it.

He could only handle two hours before taking the opportunity of Barney going to the bathroom to flee out of there as fast as possible. Clint was stupid for accepting but he had just enough self-respect to not stay and torture himself for too long.

It was still close to 3 am when he was leaving and the only company he had were the street lights casting light every few feet and the lone grocery store that run till the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t exactly freezing but there was a nice chill reminding him that he was alive.

He was lost in thoughts of naps, warm blankets, and hot coffee in a few hours when he passed by a coffee shop. He couldn’t say exactly what made him do it but he stopped to look inside and when his eyes caught the employee behind the counter his heart jumped in his chest.

Positively the most beautiful man Clint had ever seen.

His hair was in a bun and looked like they would feel like clouds under his fingertips, his jaw was adorned with probably a day’s scruff and Clint’s brain provided a millisecond fantasy of feeling it under Clint’s lips. And Clint could just barely keep his eyes from staring holes into the guy’s shoulders.

He realized he must’ve looked like a creep when the guy stopped wiping down the counter and went to fix something else. And Clint only got a glimpse of his ass but damn, could he even handle the rest?

Before he knew it Clint was opening the door to the cafe, getting the attention of the guy and having his eyes land on Clint’s – god they were the most beautiful blue he’d ever seen, this was not right, – and having his brain short-circuit.

Which, was extremely rude because he was not the one to make the decision to go in in the first place and now his brain was leaving him alone in the deep end.

Just my luck.

Then his legs were taking him over to the counter – because it’s weird to just stand in front of the door Clint, shut up – and the guy was smiling at him, wow he could get more beautiful, Clint wouldn’t have guessed it.

“What can I get for you?” He said and, oh, his voice. Why did Clint have to get tortured like this? Clint had been trying to stare at the counter in order not to ogle too openly at a stranger but when he glanced up he saw amusement in the guy’s eyes. Okay, maybe he’s not a total lost cause.

“Uh, french roast, black,” could have gone without the stuttering but he wasn’t written off yet ‘cause the guy’s smile got a little bigger as he started preparing it. He should probably find a better name for him than ‘the guy’. Just then Clint’s eyes caught his name tag. James. He could already hear himself say it over and over again.

Okay, getting out of that daydream. Still in public.

“Can I get ya anything else?” James’s voice brought him back to look at those blue eyes and it was like a spell took over his mouth because he was sure he was meant to answer ‘No, thank you.’ but what came out, oh boy. Clint changed from human to tomato in seconds.

“A couple hours with you would be great, doll.” And while Clint was trying to find his footing again with his face still burning hot his eyes did catch the faintest dust of pink on James’s cheeks and Clint felt a greater sense of satisfaction at his accomplishment – and even slightly less embarrassed.

“Well, that can be arranged,” what did Clint just hear? That was not his brain, right? The shy smile James had on his lips says it wasn’t and Clint feels a rush go through his body before he’s leaning on the counter, getting just a few inches closer to where James was working.

“If you can tell me your name,” James raised his eyebrows and Clint wasn’t about to back down from that challenge and lose a chance of hearing his name on James’s lips.

“I’m Clint.” He said and let a shy smile rest on his lips because nothing was thrown on his face yet, and that was a success in Clint’s book.

“Well hello, Clint,” James smiled at him again, all teeth and sunshine and everything, and placed his cup in front of him.

Clint’s hand instinctively moved to take it and his fingers brushed James’s before he could let go. It gave him a little tingling on the ends of his fingers and judging by the blush and the ever-present smile on James’s lips, Clint was willing to bet he felt something too.

“Thanks, doll,” what was Clint’s deal with that again? Seriously, did his brain and mouth connection had no filter? He was just walking around saying things like that? Well, no, it just seemed to have malfunctioned in the presence of a gorgeous, blue-eyed, with the sun in his smile, barista. He wasn’t like that all the time.

“So, what brings you here in the dead of night, Clint?” Okay, maybe Clint enjoyed hearing his name in James’s voice a little too much, but that was nobody’s business since it would stay in his head forever. And now onto the more unpleasant parts of his question, Clint took a sip of his coffee and just about held himself from proposing right then and there.

“Escaping the harsh reality of my social life, I’m afraid.” Clint settled on something awfully vague and awfully true at the same time. He didn’t want to lie at his first meeting with James but he also didn’t want to unload on a stranger that he wanted to see again – many, many times.

“What about you? The graveyard shift can’t be as fun as everyone says,” Clint tipped his cup to James before he took another sip – Jesus, what did he put in this thing? It’s heavenly. James in return smiled at his poor attempt at a joke and lent against the counter, folding his arms over his chest and Clint’s coffee almost went down the wrong pipe.

“It got me talking to you, didn’t it?” James said it with a smirk on his lips and, okay look, Clint was not a blusher but he had to admit; James had game and it maybe landed a soft pink on his cheeks – but just maybe.

From then on it was pretty easy to flirt with him – and by pretty easy Clint means his brain never gave a filter to his mouth and he kept blurting things he wasn’t meant to. The unexpected and certainly not unwelcome response though was James’s soft chuckles and warm eyes.

And, okay, maybe Clint was a little smitten when he left at an hour when he could see the sun and his eyes were burning just a tiny bit. And maybe he was biting his lip trying to conceal the smile from all the giddy things he was feeling about his talk with James. And he was definitely going back.

The next time Clint walked into the coffee shop during the graveyard shift there were a couple of college students in a corner with their laptops out, headphones on and fingers jamming down on the keyboards. And, yeah, Clint was a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be alone with James but he guessed they would only bother them for refills.

James greeted him with a familiar smile and before he could even think straight a ‘Hello, doll,’ was coming out of Clint’s mouth like it was meant to be there. And, okay, James’s blush made up for the burn of embarrassment on his face but he needed to get back in touch with his filter and not ruin something before it could even start.

Turns out James really enjoyed the nickname, as he had admitted shyly when they were all alone and into each other’s personal space. He said no one had ever called him that and Clint had just preened at him before trying to use it in every sentence after that.

It got him a smack in the shoulder but he got to hold that same hand later and intertwine his fingers with James’s so it all worked out.

It took four dates – and yes Clint was calling them dates, even if James was supposed to be working and he was supposed to be sleeping – for Clint to just go for it and place a soft kiss on James’s lips. He really hadn’t been settle with going for the back of his hand or his cheek on previous dates but Clint still felt an uncertainty that he had a 50-50 chance of getting punched in the face.

He didn’t. But he did get kissed back by James and it was very hard to do anything else than brush their mouths together after that. And if the next time Clint went over to the coffee shop he greeted James with a kiss on the lips no one was around to see it.

And he didn’t hesitate to ask James out on a real date, because as much as he enjoyed their time together at the coffee shop he also understood that only he was calling them dates – in his head. So, when James said yes, Clint preened and held his hand and refuse to leave until his shift was over.

Seeing James in casual but dressy clothes for the first time had Clint with both a desire to take them off and see them being put on and as much as he realized his brain was moving too fast with those daydreams it was just too easy – too right – to not let his mind wander.

He didn’t have to wander much as for the next four months they spent almost every night of the week sleeping in the same bed – and doing other things. But Clint was still a lot of nervous when he finally got the courage to ask James to move in with him – even if it was early – over dinner – he tried to cook but miserly failed and had to order take-out.

James had just smiled at him and took his hand and Clint let out a relieved breath when he said yes.

Five years later and he was sitting at their couch staring out the window the purple sky that the lights of the city wouldn’t let the stars shine through and remembering that first day that got him into that coffee shop and he met his husband.

Clint got out of his daydream by the cushions dipping next to him and a small smile was on his lips before he could even turn his head to look at James. He placed two mugs with hot coffee on the table in front of them before leaning back and snuggling under Clint’s raised arm, draped over the back of the couch.

“I would ask, but I know that look,” James mumbles sheepishly in Clint’s shoulder. He just chuckles softly and turns his head to bury his nose in James’s hair.

“Still haven’t talked to Barney,” Clint tries to joke about that night

“Good riddance,” James replies instantly and curls even more around Clint. “So, are we just reminiscing or should I be worried your head is saying silly things again?” James asks next and honestly, how did Clint get so lucky? He seems to be asking himself that question every day now but he can never find an answer, only be grateful that the universe decided to give him James.

“Just reminiscing, doll,” Clint can feel the shiver the moment it goes through James’s body and smiles at the memory of him first saying it. He leaves a soft kiss on the top of James’s head before going for his mug on the table. Ah, coffee. Always helping me, one way or another.

#Dani250 #winterhawk #winterhawk fanfic #clint x bucky #winterhawk fluff

[repulsivepangolin7]

Fic: Night out

Word count:3830

*Two-three months after the ‘Earthquake’ event*

Street slapped on the doorframe as he office landscape part of the metro division. Neither of the three officers in there looked up.

“Hey! Luca!” he grinned as the blond looked up from his computer screen, “The rest of the team is thinking about going out tonight. Find a sweet bar and have a few drinks, would be really cool if you joined us.”

Luca flashed a brief smile, then sighed, “I don’t know…”

“Come on, we’ll make sure there’s a good bench where you can sit and have your leg up.” Street tried to bribe.

“I can’t drink…” Luca shrugged, “Pain meds and alcohol don’t mix.”

“Well, I won’t either. I’m the DD…”

“Designated driver…” he chuckled, “Yeah, guess it was your turn right about now…”

Street nodded, “Come on, the team misses you…”

“Well, I’m right here…”

“-You know what I mean…”

“Yeah, I do…” Luca nodded.

“So, can I count you in?”

Luca sighed, glancing down at the leg he had propped up on a second chair and a few pillows. “Look, I… My leg still really hurts… And I feel drained of all energy.”

Street nodded, “I feel bad trying to convince you to go out with us, but… How about you go out with us, and if you feel like you have to bail after 10-20 minutes, then that’s fine. I’ll drive you home. Just, please?”

Luca smiled a bit, “Promise? It won’t be weird?”

“Of course, no one will think it’s weird that you suddenly might feel like the couch or bed back home is a better option. We all know what happened in the first place.”

Luca nodded, “So, are we headed straight to the bar after work, or?”

“No, some of us DEFINITELY need a shower before seeing civilians.” Street chuckled.

“Good, my work pillbox is empty, so  since we’re going home first I can grab my next dose before we go out.”

Street nodded, “Forgot to fill it up?”

“No, just figured I had enough for the shift.” Luca shrugged.

Street nodded and stood a bit taller to check the coffee mug on Luca’s desk, “Want some more coffee?”

Luca chuckled, “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Street smiled and walked over to Luca’s desk to grab his mug. “So, do you want to grab some food someplace before we go to the bar?”

“Oh, YES.” Luca beamed, “I’m hungry as F…”

Street grinned as he filled up Luca’s mug with coffee, “What kind of food do you want?”

“Anything’s good.” Luca shrugged.

“I found this new Lithuanian place. The food is amazing, not necessarily modern looking, but amazing.”

Luca grinned, “Sounds awesome.”

“We can pick it up on our way home…”

Luca nodded, “Sounds good.”

Street placed the coffee mug in front of Luca, “Alright, then I tell the team that you’re in tonight. And I’ll see you in half an hour.”

Luca nodded.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 “He’s in!” Street grinned as he returned to the rest of the team, “But we need to pick a bar where he can sit comfortably.”

“Of course.” Hondo nodded. “What about Ercoles?”

“Or Good Times At Davy Wayne’s…” Chris shrugged, “Couches there as well.”

“Barney’s Beanery?” Street shrugged.

“Ercoles…” Deacon shrugged, “Ercoles is probably the speed Luca’s up for right now.”

Street nodded, “Yeah. You’ve got a point.”

“Let’s take Ercoles.” Tan shrugged, “That’s not too far from where you live either. Shorter drive when he’s out of energy.”

Street nodded, “Another good point.”

 SWATSWATSWAT

 Street almost regretted convincing Luca that a night out with the team would be a good idea when he heard the older man hiss as something flared up while they were walking from their car to their house with the takeaway they planned on eating before going out.

“Hey, you good?”

Luca had already stopped in his track, but when Street asked he looked back up and feigned a smile. “Yeah, just…”

“Just?”

Luca shrugged.

“Couldn’t come up with a reasonable lie?”

Luca rolled his eyes, “Just didn’t want to worry you. Just had a slight muscle spasm. Nothing to even think about.”

Street raised his eyebrows, not buying what Luca tried selling at all. “Sure.”

“Look, my leg will so weird shit like this for a long time, and you know it.” Luca started hobbling again, “That it does so when my last dose of meds are almost worn out is nothing to write home about. It’s natural. I just need to get my pill and relax for like  half an hour. I’ll be good to go.”

Street kept his ‘not-believing-you’ look as he stared Luca down.

“Come on, I’m starving…” Luca complained as he stopped once more, but this time in front of Luca, “Are you going unlock the door or not? I didn’t even grab my keys this morning… -And I kinda want to sit down as well.”

Street chuckled a little and found the right key, “Alright.”

He held the door open for Luca, then he gestured to the couch, “Go sit down, I’ll get your meds. They’re on your nightstand, right?”

“Yeah, thanks…” Luca offered up a small smile as he hobbled towards the couch. He was not to proud to accept help like that when it was offered up. Once upon a not-so-distant time he might have been stubborn enough to growl in Street’s direction and claim that he could do it his damn self. But a crush injury often changes your perspective a bit.

He had just gotten himself arranged on the couch when Street rattled his pill bottle behind his shoulder.  “Here you go…”

“Thank you.” Luca winked as he took the pill bottle, twisted the cap off and popped a pill into his mouth.

“And some soda to wash it down with…” Street held up a bottle of coke, “Figured you wanted that to go with the takeout.”

“Thanks again.” Luca grinned, took the bottle and took a sip before swallowing the pill, “Now that food smells amazing… Let’s eat.”

Street nodded and placed the plastic bag with takeout on the table. “I’ll get some plates and forks. I just ordered two different platters that I like, my guess is you’ll like them as well. This way we can both have a bit of each.”

Luca nodded and adjusted the way his leg was rested on top of the pillows, not without a slight grimace.

“Look, if you feel like you need to skip out on us today, I get it…” Street said from the kitchen, “It would be awesome if you’re able to join us, but seeing how much it bothers you… The rest of the team would obviously understand.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Luca shook his head as he sat back, “I just need like half an hour and for the pill I just took to start working. It’ll hurt a lot less then.”

“You sure?”

“You didn’t have to try that hard to convince me, remember?”

Street shrugged as he walked back to the living room table with plates and forks. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too hard either, especially not since I came up with a reckless idea.”

“Going to a bar can’t be considered reckless. Not unless you plan on getting into trouble.” Luca chuckled, “Besides, you said we were going to Ercoles, I can sit in a booth and sip coffee or soda and just rest.”

Street nodded.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 “I think I’m good to go now…” Luca winked over at Street a bit after they had finished their dinner, “I should probably change into some off-duty clothes.”

Street nodded, “Yeah, I should too…”

Luca smirked as he started to lift his leg off the pillows it had rested on, this time without a grimace to go along with the task. “You think boardshorts are okay? It’s either that or sweatpants. I had to get a bigger pair of uniform pants just for them to fit over this damn cast.”

“Don’t you have that pair of baggy cargo pants?”

“Yeah, but those are visibly dirty…” Luca shrugged.

“It might be a bit cold in just shorts…”

“We’re going to be indoors, and I’m not exactly one to freeze easily…”

“True.” Street nodded, “Go for the shorts. Should I bring a pillow you can have under your leg?”

“That would be great…” Luca nodded as he reached for his crutches.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 He had been more than a little skeptical about going out. His lower leg and knee was still causing him all sorts of pain. But it had been so long since he had actually hung out with the team.  

He was stuck with Street on the regular, but the other guys and Chris he really missed. And to be completely honest, being at home with Street wasn’t the same as hitting up a bar with him.

He sat on one side of the booth with his bad leg up on the bench. He was enjoying a cup of strong coffee and all his good friends were there.

Street had found a barstool and placed himself in front of his leg like a human shield, to make sure no drunk person would accidentally bump into it. The risk of just that happening wasn’t that great at the moment though, the bar was far from crowded. Probably because it was a Tuesday, but for the team it was the ‘weekend’.

Chris sat beside Street on another barstool. Hondo and Tan filled up the other side of the booth and Deacon was over at the bar ordering another beer, a third barstool was waiting patiently for him.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 “So I’m barreling down Mansfield Avenue, running as fast as I freaking can…” Tan’s in the middle of an old ‘war-story’, “Then at one of the last cross streets before Melrose Avenue, a freaking Prius comes out straight in front of me. Too late for me to stop, too late for me to try to jump the hood, or… You know, just jump the entire car…”

The team chuckled a little.

“So, at full speed I run into this Prius. My partner was like 10-20 yards behind me, and he claimed it hurt all the way back there.”  Tan chuckled, “Now it didn’t hurt that bad, but I did forget about the chase we were in the middle of. The Prius needed a new side window and to get it’s side door straightened. And I took about forty stitches in total after that run-in.”

“I hope you did some sort of ‘you-should-see-the-other-guy’ thing when you returned to the station.” Chris chuckled, “Poor Prius…”

Luca chuckled.

“Oh, I’ve got a nice one…” Hondo grinned, “Way back in the day, long before I made SWAT…”

The team turned their attention to him.

“I was probably in my early 20’s… I was teamed up with a guy who did not like my guts.” Hondo chuckled, “You know the kind… Anyway, we were going to enter this building. There had been a ‘call’ about domestic violence.”

Luca looked up, “Is it…?”

“You and Deke know the story…” Hondo nodded, “I was the first to enter. The only one to enter.”

Deacon grimaced, knowing what was to come.

“You see, this guy who hated me mostly because I tanned easier than him had managed trick some of his street friends into doing a fake call.” Hondo sighed, “He slammed the door shut behind me, and five gangsters attacked me.”

The whole team grimaced by then.

“I managed to shoot one of them in the shoulder, and that’s how it ended. They figured it was best to bail by then. But I looked like I had been in the ring with Muhammed Ali. One of my eyes were swollen shut, I had a split lip that needed twelve stitches. Lots of other small nicks and a ton of bruises. I could barely stand straight for two weeks. I don’t remember how many ribs I cracked, but it was more than a few. Let’s just say that I refused to have that guy as a partner for another shift.”

“Did he get fired?” Street asked.

“Not straight away…” Luca shook his head.

“No, not straight away…” Hondo nodded, “The bastard had friends both in high and low places. He did get caught eventually though.”

“Man, I wish I could’ve kicked his ass myself…” Luca sighed.

Deacon nodded.

“Well, ancient history…” Hondo shrugged, “Now, I know you’ve also got an ancient history story for us Luca… Come with it!”

“Oh, you mean the one where I fell off a truck?” Luca chuckled, one hand absentmindedly rubbing against his cast.

Hondo nodded.

“Alright.” Luca nodded and shifted a little in his seat, “Now, this was also LONG before SWAT…I had worked a couple of years, maybe. But I was still a bit… A bit of a hothead and quick to action.”

He paused and took a sip of his coffee.

“So, me and my partner had found this truck that had been associated with some kidnappers. We checked it. None of the suspects in sight. My partner called it in, I stuck around. These guys were known for beating their hostages to pulp basically, and two of them had ended up dead. I heard them approaching while Tim was calling it in by our car, which was parked on the other side of the store. We were actually going to get some grub…”

“What did you do?” Chris asked.

“I realized that I could not be seen. I was in uniform and I didn’t know what would happen if they saw me. I didn’t know if they had guns, I didn’t know if they would open fire in the middle of the street. I didn’t know a lot of stuff.”

“So…?” Tan asked.

“He climbed up on top of the rig…” Deacon chuckled.

Luca nodded. “I did. It was the only route that guaranteed that I wouldn’t be spotted.”

Hondo chuckled.

“Now, it was all fun and games until they started up the truck, and I found myself on the top of a moving Peterbilt. Now, Tim had seen the truck roll out, and decided to follow it. Even though he couldn’t find me. And as a note to you younger guys this was before we wore our radios. So… He couldn’t just call me up either.” Luca grinned, “He pulled out on the street, followed the truck at some distance. No lights, no sirens. But… I guess the guys saw him and realized they were in trouble.”

“Uhuh…” Street nodded, “Then what?”

“They stepped on the gas.” Luca chuckled, “And I hung on for dear life.”

Hondo grinned wide, he had heard the old story about a billion times before. Because he often asked Luca to tell that story if they were alone, mostly because of the ending. But he knew the younger crowd probably hadn’t heard it before.

“So, yeah… Tim had called for backup. So this other squad car comes roaring up the street, opposite direction. Which led to some impressive driving from the kidnappers, I’ve got to credit that to them. Which again made it a whole lot more difficult to stay on top of that rig. At one point a chopper came on top of us… And the truck sped up even more.”

Deacon nodded, he had heard the story a few times before, but not as many times as Hondo.

“Anyway. Soon enough the kidnappers messed up and they took the wrong  turn and ended up in a place where the road was under construction..” Luca chuckled a bit, “I give you one chance to guess what happened when the driver hit his breaks…”

“Ouch, you fell off?” Chris frowned.

“Bingo!” Luca chuckled, “Broke my wrist going down there. Anyway, kidnappers are on their way out of their truck, and yup… They had guns, because they started shooting towards the now three squad cars behind them.”

Hondo nodded, a smirk growing on his face.

“Now, my right hand was pretty much useless. I couldn’t even get my gun out of the holster with that hand.” Luca said, studying his own thick wrist, “I didn’t get my gun out before the kidnappers decided to retreat to the front of the truck, you know… Right where my broken wrist and I was.”

Deacon chuckled a bit.

“Somehow I manage to choke out the first guy. The smaller guy, of course…” Luca chortled, “So you can say I’m kinda outta luck at that point. Now, this hothead officer from one of the other squads came over.”

Both Deacon and Hondo laughed. Hard.

“What? What’s so funny?” Tan looked between the three oldest members.

“Well, the second hothead was him…” Deacon chuckled as he jerked his thumb in Hondo’s direction.

“Yep…” Luca nodded, “He took care of the two other kidnappers. And right about then a small squad of four rappelled down from the chopper which had been hovering above us for I don’t know how long…”

“Now THIS, THIS is the best part!” Hondo shot in, forcing the others to pay attention.

“Turns out it was SWAT.” Luca blushed at the thought, “Grandpa’s team… Grandpa and my dad were two of the guys who rappelled down.”

“NO?” Street’s jaw was hanging about an inch further down than usual.

“Yeah.” Luca shook his head, “I got the sternest talking to in my adult life right then and there…”

“He means they were just about to smack him around…” Hondo chuckled.

“I think they would’ve…” Luca shrugged, “If I hadn’t been grimacing and holding my wrist already… I was probably too pathetic looking to slap. I had gone one step beyond getting my ass kicked.”

“You’re kidding?” Tan chuckled.

Luca shook his head, “You’ve got to remember that people didn’t care that much back in the day if you spanked your kids. Or straight up beat the shit out of them in some cases. Now, as every other kid growing up in the 70s, I had been smacked a couple of times. So… I knew the look in both my dad and grandpa. They were almost vibrating as they gave me a firm shouting to about how ‘god-damned’ stupid I had been.”

“I didn’t know you back then, but I was certain those two SWAT officers were going to knock you out at any second…” Hondo shook his head at the memory, “Oh, and you were like 60% road rash…”

Luca nodded.

“That’s it…” Chris threw her hands up in the air, “I don’t have anything to top that!”

Deacon grinned, “Let’s hear yours anyway.”

“I got made on an undercover gig.” she shrugged, “Got roughed up a bit.”

“Care to elaborate?” Street tilted his head.

“Nope.” She shook her head, “Now Deke, what’s yours?”

“Broke my pelvis once.” He shrugged, causing the entire rest of the team either shudder or frown at the thought.

“I’m going to regret this, but how?” Tan asked looking at the grey haired man.

“Tossed from a window and onto a concrete wall a floor or two lower.” Deacon took another sip of his beer, “It was very uncomplicated. Basically the best kind of break you can have in your pelvis. Hurt like crazy though.”

Tan frowned.

Deacon nodded, then he looked over at Street. “You’re up…”

Street looked over at Luca, “Well… If you feel like stopping me, just do so…”

Luca scrounged up his nose “Why?”

“I got my leg trapped under my motorcycle once.”

“This is a work story, right?” Tan asked.

Street nodded, “Yes. I rode a police motorcycle for a while.”

“One of them big, boxy, ones?” Luca frowned.

“Big, not exactly boxy anymore…” Street nodded.

“How?”

“A bit outside of the city limits. Gravel road. A tractor came backing towards me around a bend. I hit the wrong break…”

“So you hit your front break and…”Luca let his hand mimic the motorcycle sliding out from under the driver.

Street nodded, “Came to a stop less than three yards from the rear of the tractor. My leg under the tank of the bike.”

“Alright, I don’t need any more details on that one…” Luca frowned.

Street nodded.

“Or… Did you end up with a cast, and for how long?” Luca followed up.”

“Yes, and seven weeks.”

Luca nodded, a small shudder running up his spine.

Hondo stretched before he stood up, “I’m getting another drink. Luca, do you want something?”

Luca checked his coffee cup, it was almost empty. He then pulled out a few bills and handed it to Hondo, “A coke or something…”

Hondo nodded.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 They had been there almost five hours when Luca poked Street in the leg with his good foot.

Street looked up immediately.

“Kid, tonight was real fun.” Luca beamed, then he flashed an apologetic smile, “But I should get back home now. It’s been a long day…”

Street nodded, “Do you need help up?”

Luca shook his head, “Don’t think so…”

He was right, he didn’t need help getting up.

“I might need help getting my crutches off of the floor though…” he added with a cheesy smile.

“No problem.” Tan winked and bent down to fetch Luca’s crutches, he then handed them to Street who in turn handed them to Luca.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 “You look like you’re in pain again…” Street mentioned as they walked from the car to the front door.

“Not more than usual…” Luca paused to shrug, “I’m a little stiff from sitting too long though…”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Luca flashed on of his trademark full-blown smiles, “I’m sure. Stop worrying so much…”

Street rolled his eyes, “Considering how much your leg has gone through the last few months, I’m allowed to worry about you.”

Luca smirked a bit.

Street hurried up front to unlock and open the door for him, receiving a short nod and a short ‘thanks’ from Luca.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just to lay down and have my legs up…” Luca shrugged, “But Duke probably wants a walk…”

Street nodded and it didn’t take long before Duke met them by the door. Luckily for Luca the dog never jumped up on people he knew, a part of it’s career training.

“Guess you’re right about that…” Street bent down to pat Duke, and put the leash on him, “You’re sure you’re good here?”

“Yeah. All good.”

“Alright.” Street nodded and left for his and Duke’s walk.

Luca let out a heavy sigh once the door was closed. The truth was that he was drained in every way possible, his leg was throbbing violently and all he wanted was a good night’s worth of sleep. Something he couldn’t remember when he had the last time.

He hobbled over and took the pill bottle on the living room table, stuffing it into one of his pockets. Then he did a quick detour to the bathroom to take care of that business before he could turn in for the night.

#dominic luca #Dominique Luca #Luca #SWAT #s.w.a.t #hurt #earthquake #hondo #Street #Deacon #Chris #Victor Tan #hurtcomfort #injury #chris alonso #Tan #jim street #daniel harrelson #David Kay #swat fanfiction

[theundercovermarvelfan]

(Trying to get back in to writing by catching up with the Whumptober Challengefor @whumptober2019!)

Day Twenty-Two - Hallucination

“He thinks you’re crazy, you know that, bud? He’s always regretted bringing you in, but today is one of those days where he can’t even remember why he did it. He’d kick you out on your ass if he could.”

“Clint?

“You can’t even earn your keep here. You spend more time in the infirmary than anything else. These people have to be getting tired of taking care of your dumbass.”

“Clint? Look at me. Take a breath and look at me.”

Clint deliberately pulled air into his lungs, concentrating on the feeling before he carefully let it out. Then he shifted his gaze.

“Who am I?”

“Phil,” Clint said quietly.

Phil leaned forward in his chair beside Clint’s hospital bed and smiled. “That’s right. I’m here. And who’s not here?”

Clint shifted his gaze again to the sight of Barney Barton leaning against the wall in the treatment room, his arms crossed over his chest and a condescending smirk on his lips.

“How’s it hangin’ baby bro? You still look like shit.”

“Clint? Who’s not here?”

Clint took in another deep breath and wrenched his gaze away from his brother who was not really standing there. “Barney. Barney’s not really here.”

“Good,” Phil praised. “That’s better Clint, you can recognize that. The drugs are working their way out of your system.”

Clint sighed heavily as he reached up and rubbed his forehead where it was pounding dully. “Not fast enough,” he mumbled.

“Hey,” Phil said, reaching over and placing a hand on the forearm of Clint’s other arm. “It’s gonna be okay. This will be over soon.”

“He’s only saying that so you’ll stop looking to pathetic,” Barney sneered. “I’d of smacked you upside the head by now and told you to stop being so damn dramatic. It’s not like you’re dying, bud. Not anymore anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Clint muttered, dropping his hand back down. “Just tired. He won’t let me sleep.”

“Don’t do that,” Phil said so sharply that Clint’s gaze darted over to him. “Right now you are not fine. I know Barney isn’t saying anything warm and fuzzy to you. I need you to be realistic about the fact that you’re going to be okay soon, but it’s alright to not be okay now.”

“What a crock of shit. No one ever actually listens to that goody goody bullshit, do they? That’s not how the real world works.”

Clint dropped his head into his hands. He had been dosed with this hallucinogenic drug almost a week ago now. He was recovering, but the process was frustratingly slow. At first Clint had absolutely no concept of what was real and what wasn’t. Now he was at least able to recognize that Barney was not really there, but he was still having a hard time not letting Barney’s words get under his skin.

It had been a long time since he had been torn down by Barney like this.

The mattress dipped, and Clint looked up to see that Phil had shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. “You know he’s not really here.” Clint nodded. “That means all he has is words. And because Barney’s not really here, that means the words aren’t actually coming from him. You’re own mind has to be providing whatever he’s spouting. My guess is that it’s your own insecurities that he’s feeding off of.”

Clint swallowed thickly. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m too much trouble for my worth,” he admitted quietly.

“Clint, recovery is part of the job,” Phil said. “It’s part of being human. Every agent has some kind of fallout after a mission. Whether it’s physical or mental, whether it’s something that requires a few days or a few weeks, it’s a natural part of this job that we do. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Have I mentioned that’s not how the real world works? You should be better than this.”

“Apparently my subconscious doesn’t agree,” Clint mumbled to Phil.

“That’s not surprising,” Phil admitted. “You’ve never really been in a position to comfortably take recovery time in your life. But this is part of a stable life, kid. I promise you that.”

Clint took a shuddering breath and leaned his head heavily against the pillow. “I’m just so tired.”

“Close your eyes, kid,” Phil instructed. “Get some rest.”

“He won’t let me,” Clint insisted. “Every time I close me eyes he gets… meaner… louder…” It sounded so stupid and childish.

“Clint, Barney is not here,” Phil reminded him firmly. “I am here. So, close your eyes.”

Clint shot a skeptical look at Phil. But Phil just calmly watched and waited. Finally, Clint sighed and let his eyes slide shut.

“You are a drain on this world, everyone would be better off--”

“You know, I’m proud of you,” Phil said lowly and evenly. “Despite everything that went wrong with this mission, you still finished it. That’s what I admire about you and what makes you good at this job. You are strong, strong enough to do what needs to be done.”

Phil continued to talk, and Clint found that it was easier to focus on Phil’s voice than it was Barney’s. Finally, Clint felt himself sinking down into a restful sleep for what felt like the first time in days. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve having Phil at his side, but he’d never cease being grateful.

#whumptober2019 #no.22 #fanfic #fanfiction #clint barton #hawkeye #Phil Coulson #Avengers #whump

[hellogoodbye741]

Hi.. Can you do an IronHawk? I love them together.. Maybe high school AU? Thanks

Sorry, this took so long, my writing muse has been in the john for the last two years ngl.

Hope you like it! Read it here at: Don’t Know Much Bout Biology or under the cut

DAY ONE:

“New year, new school, new me,” Clint muttered to himself over and over as he walked towards the entrance of SHIELD High. “New year, new school, new- aw fuck, I’m so screwed.”

Clint came to a stop right at the doors and looked up at the huge lettering that sat close to the top of the building. “SHIELD High School. A school of Excellence.” Hawk sighed as he rubbed his forehead. “What am I even doing here, man.”

Clint Barton was a 16-year-old circus brat who had thought his education experience would be one of 20-year-old textbooks from Texas, and teachers who did tricks for a living. But here he was, at one of the best schools in the country. All because some Vice Prinicipal saw his act, and thought he would be a great addition to their archery team.

“Ohhh I can’t do this” Hawk said as he felt panic set in. Clint wasn’t a ‘school’ person. He hadn’t even stepped into a school building in almost ten years, not since Barney had dragged him out of the orphanage one night to ran away to the circus.

Yet here he was… This wasn’t going to end well.

~

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Tony said as Jarvis parked the limo.

“I’m not sir, you know I don’t kid”

Tony groaned as he looked at the high school in front of him. “But Jarvis, I’m already waaay too smart for high school! I went to MIT for christ’s sake!”

Jarvis turned and looked over at Tony. “Master Tony, we all know about your timed at MIT. But your father insists, and so do I, that a little… socialization with children your own age would be good for you.”

“I don’t need to socialize, I have Rhodey.”

“Who just got shipped off to Afghanistan, and won’t be back for a year. Also, Rhodey is 10 years your senior and treats you like a little brother. What would be wrong with having friends your own age?”

“Nobody my age gets me Jarv.”

Jarvis sighed. “One semester is your father’s deal if you want to start working in the shop.”

Tony groaned, “One semester??? How about three weeks.”

“One semester.”

“A month.”

“Two semesters.“

“One semester it is, see you at three Jarv.”

Jarvis smiled and handed Tony a box. Tony gave it a look.

“I packed you a lunch, your favorite.”

Tony narrowed his eyes, “My favorite when who’s around.”

Jarvis winked, “Me, Anna, and Peggy.”

Tony fist-pumped, “Sweet PB&J.”

“Alright, first bell will be sounding soon. Your schedule is in your bag. Go on now. Shoo.”

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes, “Yeah okay I’m going.”

“Don’t start any fires!”

Tony waved a hand, “No promises!”

~

Clint sat in silence with the Principal and Vice-Principal, his knee bouncing harder and harder the more anxious he got.

“Don’t worry Clint,” Vice Principal Coulson said with a smile. “We’re just waiting for the other new student to arrive.”

The Principal, Fury, snorted. “Student my ass”

Coulson kept the serene smile on his face, so Clint took that as a signal to pretend like he didn’t hear what he just had.

It was another few agonizing minutes later when the door finally opened, and a small dark-headed boy entered the room. “Sorry I’m late, I got lost and didn’t want to be here.”

“That’s fine Mr. Stark, please sit down next to Clint.”

The boy grimaced, “Please call me Tony. Mr. Stark is my old man” and sat down next to Clint. The boy smiled and stuck his hand out, “Tony Stark. Pleased to meet ya”

Clint blinked, but slowly reached out and shook the other boy’s hand. “Uh, Clint… Clint Barton. Nice to meet you too”

Tony nodded and released Clint’s hand, “So we got that out of the way. Why are we here?”

VP Coulson leaned back in his seat. “Since you both are new to the school, we decided that we wanted to cover the basics of our program here before we send you out to classes.”

Tony sighed, leaned over to Clint, and whispered: “Wake me up when they’re finished, kay?”

Clint blinked again, unsure on how to respond.

“I’ll take that as a yes”

~

Clint rushed out of the office 30 minutes later, more certain of his inevitable downfall than ever. So many expectations were on his head, both academically and athletically.

“I am so screwed” He whispered to himself.

“No, I’m screwed, you’re fine.”

Clint jumped and looked back to the other new kid as he exited the office as well. “Huh?”

The kid, Tony, waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Lemme see your schedule”

Clint tipped his head, “Why?”

“Because if I’m forced to be here, I’d rather share some classes with people I know. Gimme” Tony made ‘gimme hands,’ and Clint reluctantly handed over his class schedule.

Tony quickly skimmed it and made a face. “Well how about. 6 out 7 classes ain’t bad. New school buddies for the win”

“You’re weird” Clint said before he could stop himself.

Tony just smiled and handed back Clint’s schedule. “I know, you’ll learn to love it. Let’s head to class”

Clint tucked the schedule into his backpack, “Is that one we have together?”

“Yep”

“What is it”

Tony turned and winked at Clint, “Chemistry.”

DAY TWO:

“So you’re the new kid?” A red-headed girl asked as Clint stood at his locker.

“Uhm... Yes? At least one of them anyway.”

The girl nodded, “Natasha.”

Clint slowly closed his locker, “Clint.... Nice to meet you?”

Natasha nodded, “You’ll eat with us at lunch. Don’t be late”

Clint opened his mouth to respond, but Natasha walked off before he could say anything.

“What”

~

Tony plopped down at the desk next to Clint’s and leaned against Clint’s shoulder. “Ughhhhh I’m so bored.”

Clint, unused to this sort of touching, awkwardly petted Tony’s hair. “Uhm... There, there.”

Tony snorted, “Thanks for trying bud. You sound like my father... I hate this place, I already know everything.”

“I’m sorry you’re smart?”

“I appreciate it. Anyway, anything new going on in your life since last period?”

“Some girl told me I’m sitting with her at lunch?”

Tony jerked up in his seat, “Red hair?”

“Yes?”

“Looks like we’re twinsies again, I’m being forced to.”

Clint nodded, “Okay so the girl collects new kids then. Cool cool cool cool”

“Are you panicking? You sound like you’re panicking”

“A little?”

“Hey it’s just lunch. Maybe we’ll make more friends and everything will be fine.”

Clint grimaced, “I don’t know how to socialize.”

Tony smiled and patted Clint’s shoulder. “I’ll do the talking, you just sit there and look cute.”

“Thank you... I think”

~

Clint was dragged into the cafeteria two hours later by Tony. “Come on, Merida! If I’m being forced to make friends my own age, so are you.”

“Did you just call me Merida?”

“Of course. You both do archery, right?”

“... I’m gonna ignore that.”

“Why are you booing me, I’m right”

Clint grimaced, “Why did I allow you to become my friend?”

“Because I’m special. Let’s go and find the scary red-haired girl”

“You found her”

Both Tony and Clint gave a small yelp as Natasha suddenly appeared behind them.

“Jesus Red, don’t do that to us”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Come on. Our table is this way.”

Clint and Tony looked at each other, but quickly followed her to the table.

“Clint and Tony, sit down. Let me do the introductions.”

They both sat down.

Natasha smiled, “Everyone - this is Clint and Tony. The new kids”

The full group at the table waved at the pair, they waved back slowly.

“Okay first is Steve,” A muscular blonde waved. “Next is Bucky, his beau.” A muscular brunet with a permanent resting bitch gave a nod. Clint and Tony nodded back.

“Next we have Sam Wilson,” A black boy boy with shades and a goatee gave them a wave.

“Then there are the twins, Wanda and Pietro.” A boy and girl at the end of the table waved quickly before going back to their conversation.

“Okay after them we have Scott.... Scott, wake up!” Clint and Tony startled when a boy climbed out from underneath the table.

“Sup”

“Sup” Clint and Tony said quietly.

“Okay who do we have next... Ah, Little Peter. Late again”

“Sorry guys, I got stuck in the science lab because the teacher wanted me to go over this one scientific principle i brought up with him about the multiverse theory, you know the one I told you guys about? I was trying to explain in detail exactly what, oh hi new kids, exactly what-”

“Peter, peter, please take a deep breath you’re rambling.”

The younger boy, Peter, blushed. “Sorry”

“Hey kid, I love the multiverse theory. Ramble away” Tony said with a smile.

Peter’s eyes lit up.

“Uh oh, you just set yourself up for the talk of a century.” Sam said with a laugh.

“I’m game kid”

Peter grinned and began his ramble again, Tony listening diligently.

Clint tried to pay attention, but eventually tuned out from the conversation.

“Hey”

Clint blinked and looked around.

“Over here dingus”

Clint turned and spotted and black haired girl waving at him from a nearby table.

“Uh... yes?”

“Are you Clint?”

“Yeah that’s me.”

The girl smiled and stuck out her hand, “I’m Kate. Welcome to the archery team.”

Clint smiled and shook her hand, “Glad to be apart of it.... Though not sure how good my technique is, I’m self taught.”

Kate waved her hand, “Technique schmenique. If you can hit the target you’re better than the rest of the team. They all suck”

Clint laughed, “Well hopefully I’m better than suck“

“I’ll be the judge of that. See you on the green at 3!”

“See you then.”

Clint turned back around to find Tony smiling at him. “What?”

“You made a friend without being forced! Good for you Glen coco”

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“Oh dear god, you poor boy.” Tony turned and looked at the group. “Anyone wanna come help me destroy my father’s mansion and show Clint Mean Girls for the first time in the process”

The huge group all shouted positive exclamations, shocking Clint in their fervor to both destroy property and show him a movie he never knew existed.

“Okay... I guess I’m in too... But it has to be after Archery practice”

Tony waved a hand, “No problemo mi amor. I never do anything before 7 pm anyway”

Clint just sighed but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the weirdest thing Tony had said to him in the two days they have known each other, and he knew he was gonna hear weirder at some point in the future.

DAY 10

“Tony, no”

“Tony, yes”

Clint sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “I am not pretending to be your boyfriend for funsies”

“Who said it was for funsies?”

Clint rolled his eyes and pushed at Tony’s shoulder. “Stop playing around.”

“Hahahayeahthatsmeplayingaround.” Tony said quickly, “See you in class.”

“Okay weirdo, see you then.”

DAY 20

“Soooo...”

Clint turned and looked at Kate and raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“Soooo when are you and Tony gonna go on a date?”

Clint blinked, “Huh?”

“Dude you and Tony are in love, go on a date.”

Clint rolled his eyes, “Kate you’re drinking the crazy juice. Tony and I are definitely not in love...”

Kate snorted, “Blind as a bat”

DAY 30

“Tony I swear to god if you don’t just tell him you want to date him, I will!”

Tony groaned and slammed his head down on the table. “Red you’re killing me. Don’t you think I’ve tried??? He’s an oblivious, adorable, moron!!”

Bucky patted Tony’s shoulder. “As someone who had to deal with Steve’s oblivious dumbass for 16 years, I feel. I can also help”

Tony raised his head up, “You can?”

Bucky shrugged, “Well I can try”

“That’s all I can ask for really”

DAY 40

“He really is a dumbass” Bucky said with an exasperated sigh.

“See?? I told you!” Tony practically shouted as he paced back and forth. “I have literally tried everything to get him to notice me as more than a friend.”

“There’s gotta be something, I mean Jesus”

Tony grimaced, “Is there though? Cause I can’t think of anything.”

“Maybe we can help”

Tony looked over and spotted Natasha and Clint’s friend, Kate. “You have an idea we haven’t tried?”

Kate and Natasha looked at each other and smiled. “Just leave it to us, okay?”

Day 50

Clint frowned, “But why do I have to wear the blind fold?”

“Because I said so, keep moving” Kate said with a huff as she maneuvered Clint back and forth.

“But what’s going on? You wouldn’t tell me shit”

“It’s a surprise, okay?”

“I’m not sure I like surprises”

“You’ll like this one, okay? Now shut up”

Clint huffed and continued to allow Kate to manhandle him.

“Are we there yet?” Clint asked 5 minutes later.

“Not quite, be patient you heathen.”

“Did you just call me a heathen? You uncultur-”

“Okay, we’re here! Take your blind fold off”

Clint sighed and ripped off the blindfold, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.”Where am I?”

“Look!”

Clint spun to where Kate was pointing, and gasped. They had walked all the way out to the archery field, and standing in a line were several targets in a line, each with a different letter on then spelled out in arrows. Clint could see the rest of their newfound crew in the background watching.

‘DATE ME’

At the end of the line was Tony with a bunch of fledglings in his hand. Clint’s head tipped to the side and he let out a little laugh. “Oh Tony”

Tony gave him a huge smiled, “Oh Tony what?”

Clint laughed, “I can’t believe what a prankster you are. Such trouble for a laugh! ‘Date me,’ I love it! And you got everyone else involved too”

Tony’s face dropped and he looked over at the crowd in astonishment. Everyone else looked shocked too.

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot” Kate whispered.

“What? What do you mean I’m an idiot.”

Kate gripped Clint by the shoulders. “Clint, this isn’t a prank. It’s real. Tony LIKES you, and wants to take you on a real date!!!”

Clint frowned, “What? That’s crazy. Tony totally thinks us as just friends.”

Kate dropped her hands, “Okay. New question... If Tony didn’t think of you as just a friend, and actually asked you on a date. What would you say?”

Clint shook  his head, “That’ll never happen.”

“Why do you think so?”

“I’m not boyfriend material. Tony knows that, that’s why he’s joking about it.”

“Why are you not boyfriend material?”

“Because I’m a hot garbage can fire and nobody can love me past those flaws?”

“Tony can you big dingus, he’s even more of a hot mess than you!!”

Clint gave her a look, “Tony hasn’t been joking?”

“No!!!”

“He really wants to date me?”

“Yes!”

“Like legit?”

“YES” Everyone shouted, including Tony.

Clint turned and gave Tony a sheepish look. “Uhm... sorry?”

Tony sighed, “Apology accepted... and?”

“And?”

“AND YES OR NO LEGOLAS”

“Oh, yeah. I would love to go on a date”

Tony gave a loud whoop and ran towards Clint. “FINALLY! HE SAID YES!!”

Clint blushed as all of their friends began to cheer in the background.

“Was I really that much of an idiot?” Clint asked when Tony got closer.

“Even more than you know” Tony said with a smile before jerking forward and planting on kiss on Clint’s lips.

Clint let out a muted ‘oof,’ but gladly kissed Tony back.

The kiss lasted a good minute before Tony pulled back. “Best. Semester. Ever”

Clint laughed and pulled Tony back in for another kiss.

DAY 75

Clint’s leg bounced as he waited outside the principal’s office. He had been waiting for almost an hour, and he was getting more nervous by the second.

Finally, the door opened.

Clint jumped to his feet and rushed towards Tony. “So????”

Tony smiled, “I’m staying.”

Clint let out a loud whoop and jumped into Tony’s arms. Tony laughed and hugged Clint back, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Wow, it’s like you like me or something.”

“Well who wouldn’t like a boyfriend like you, hmm?”

Tony just shook his head. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for class.”

“What class?”

“Chemistry”

#clint barton #tony stark #edwin jarvis #phil coulson #nick fury #peter parker #natasha romanova #steve rogers #bucky barnes #rhodey #sam wilson #Wanda Maximoff #Pietro Maximoff #Scott Lang #IronHawk #HawkIron #fan fic #ao3 #fic req

[itsmyroadroller]

(My ask got swallowed my Tumblr the first time I think) but may I please ask for more hcs on your Hockey Newsies??

Yessssss!!!! Uhh warning I may fuck up some info bc I learned hockey rules as fast as I could via whatever I could find and my memory is. Bad sometimes. Also I'm sorry this to for-fucking-ever sjsjdsjxjdj

----------

-Alright so

-Jack, Tommy Boy, Albert, Race, Coffee Bean, Mush, Elmer, Romeo, Mike, Ike, Finch, Bumlets, Skittery, Swifty, Snitch, Smalls, Sniper, Splasher, Sarah, and Kenny is the whole team

-Brooklyn bois + some ocs ill come up with later are also a team

-Blink, York, and Crutchie cant play because eye/leg

-Blink and York do play when everyone is just playing for fun!

-And crutchie will sit by the side and hit pucks that come his way with his crutch

-Uhhh ships:

-Blushie, Spotjack, Ravey, Finch/Henry, Snitey, Tommy Boy/Ike but they're a qpp, smallsper but they're a qpp too, newsbians, Coffee Bean/Barney, Yorkshot, Skittery/Bumlets/Swifty, Elmeojo, more to come cause coming up with a billion ships is HARD

-Spotjack is rivals to frenemies to friends to lovers I dont make the rules here

-Graves is spots adopted brother

-Anyways

-Spot and Jack are team captains

-Also eventually end up a couple

-Mmm Kath writes an article about them??? Not spotjack I mean the hockey game sndhdbdbdbdb

Uggghhhh I'm sorry this is so stupidly short and bad I can't retain information well but I promise you I tried 💛💛💛

tag list:

@ollie-rancher

@concretedonutssprinkledwthmold

@autisticamnesty

@sing-no-more

@hoi-polloi-bois

@that-one-hyperfixation

@saiiboumamii

@bonbonuwu

@crutchie-the-crutch

#newsies #newsies live #blushie #newsies blush #blush newsies #hockey au #ravey #jack kelly #jack newsies #newsies jack #spot conlon #spot newsies #newsies spot #katherine newsies #newsies katherine #katherine pulitzer #katherine plumber #asks #anon #pineappawrites

[pregnantsecondo]

GUYS HELP IM IN LOVE WITH SNIPER BUT I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO WRITE HIM

#for the dream blunt rotation au #yeah I wasn’t kidding about that #anyway I’m doing alright writing Barney #I’m skilled with Richie and Jon and Martin #and I think I can do Arcade pretty well #it’s Eddie and Sniper and dean that are going to be trouble for me

[rhysie-cakes314]

Day 12- Childhood Fear

Summary:

Sometimes, Tony just got these ideas. "We’ll each tell you a story about our childhood fears. That way,” he glanced around the room, and his eyes told them there was no getting out of this, “Peter doesn’t grow up thinking he shouldn’t talk about his feelings like some of us did.”

That's how a perfectly normal Goosebumps marathon became a night of stories and revelations that the eight year old Peter would cherish forever. 

“Viewers beware, you’re in for a scare,” the voice played over the opening before Steve turned the TV off without warning.

“Alright, I think that’s enough Goosebumps for one day,” he told the room. Steve and Peter had been watching the show all day. Each of the others had come into the room at different points, and having been sucked in by one episode or another, settled in to join the marathon. Even Tony had eventually made his way sleepily from the lab. He was currently drooling on Steve’s left shoulder, fast asleep with his plate of pizza still sitting in his lab. Between his husband and his eight year old nestled into his lap, Steve was beginning to sweat.

“But we were just about to reach season four!” Clint whined from his spot on the floor. He was leaning against Phil’s legs against the armchair, and the SHIELD agent was mindlessly playing with his hair, eyes closed.

Tony startled awake at Clint’s outburst, and Steve could punch the archer, Tony needed to sleep. The genius reached down and took another bite of pizza as though he hadn’t just been asleep. “Wait, we stopped the show?” he asked, confused. Steve stifled a laugh.

“Peter here has bed soon,” Steve explained to everyone’s groans. “We wouldn’t want him to have nightmares, would we?” He looked down at the child pointedly, ruffling his hair.

Peter pushed his hand off as he sat up, looking like Steve had insulted his honour. “I wasn’t scared! Goosebumps are only scary to babies.” Natasha thought the pout and crossed arms made the kid look just like a mini Tony. It was adorable.

“I disagree, young Peter,” Thor spoke very seriously. “I thought Slappy was quite frightening.”

“But dummy’s can’t actually talk, it was clearly just a bot.” Peter explained.

Tony pointed at the child proudly, “That’s right, squirt. You want to make a Slappy bot?” Peter giggled as he nodded in excitement.

Thor poured the rest of the popcorn into his mouth. “The dummy was possessed by a malicious spirit,” he spoke while chewing, sending flecks flying. Tony wiped a fleck of popcorn off his face.

“I guess that’s kind of scary,” Peter admitted. Thor nodded. “I thought the cursed camera was scarier, so don’t feel bad about being scared.” The Avengers shared a look as they all stifled a laugh. Peter attempting to comfort the god of thunder because he thought Thor needed it was one of the cutest things in the world. Steve looked down when he felt his shirt being tugged. “Pops, what were all of you scared of when you were kids?”

Steve opened his mouth to respond that maybe they could talk about it tomorrow, Tony sabotaged him without thinking. “That’s a great idea! We’ll each tell you a story about our childhood fears. That way,” he glanced around the room, and his eyes told them there was no getting out of this, “Peter doesn’t grow up thinking he shouldn’t talk about his feelings like some of us did.”

While Steve agreed that they should always do what they could to make sure Peter didn’t succumb to toxic masculinity, it didn’t have to be right now. “It’s getting late,” he started, but Peter placed a finger to his lips and made a shushing noise.

“Pleeeaaseee!” Peter begged. “I promise I’ll go right to sleep after.”

“And I’ll make my special hot cocoa!” Natasha sing-songed.

The night was already out of his control. Steve shot Tony a glare. They would talk about this later. Just because Tony had no semblance of a sleep schedule did not mean that Peter should inherit the bad habit. “Alright,” Steve acquiesced. Natasha had already left the room to make cocoa. The woman refused to let any of them know what made hers taste so special, claiming it was a Russian family secret. Only Bruce was ever allowed in the room and that was only to help her top them with whipped cream.

Once everyone had cocoa in their hands and was settled into the couches, Clint jumped up. “Me first!” No one fought him on it. “When I was little, there was local legend about an evil witch named Natasha-”

“No lying Uncle Clint!” Peter cried out. Clint lunged forward to tickle Peter. His squeals filled the room. Steve snatched the mug of cocoa before it spilled, shooting a glare at Clint. Clint winked at him before stepping back towards the TV again.

“You’re too smart for your own good, kid. Fine, I’ll tell a real story, though the witch Natasha scares me as an adult.” He ducked the pillow thrown at him before continuing. His face grew more serious as he decided what he should talk about that wouldn’t be too dark for an eight year old. Not that they ever shielded Peter from much, but the kid could stand to mature a little before hearing some of their tragic backstories.

“For part of my childhood, I lived with a traveling circus/carnival. They called us carnies,” he explained. “My brother, Barney, and I worked as roustabouts at first. Since we were the only kids, a lot of the adults liked to tell us stories. I was more gullible than Barney. There was this story that everyone worked together to come up with, and they each told it to me in snippets like it was some sort of historical event no one quite remembered.

“Supposedly, there was a set of conjoined twins who used to be part of the crew. Their names were Riley and Kylie. The two women were polar opposites in personality, and their constant bickering became the source of their act. The problem was, Kylie didn’t want to be in a carnival. She wanted to get surgery to separate them, but Riley loved their lifestyle travelling around the country with nothing to tie them down. The doctors wouldn’t attempt anything without permission from both twins; it was a dangerous surgery that was rarely done anyway.

“Their bickering slowly became screaming matches that kept everyone awake at night. Kylie begged her sister to let her live her own life. Riley could come up with her own act, she didn’t need Kylie or to be a freak. She could be a trapeze artist or something, Kylie argued. Riley would scream that Kylie would never escape her, that they were born together and would stay together until the day they died.

“And it might have turned out that way if Kylie hadn’t fallen in love with the knife thrower. They sent each other love notes, Kylie only writing and reading while Riley slept. The affair was rife with tension because the man wanted sex, but there was an obvious obstacle.”

Peter snorted at the picture in his head. Sex still seemed gross to him, but it would be extra weird if your sister was attached to you.

Clint waggled his eyebrows at Peter, happy to know the boy was enjoying the story. “Together, the star-crossed lovers hatched a plan. Kylie started hinting to Riley that they should try mixing their act with some of the others, that maybe if Riley found a new partnership she’d like, they could finally agree on the surgery. Riley bought into it, happy enough to humour her sister if it meant they’d stop screaming at each other every night.

“The twins tried out a few things, including letting the knife-thrower use them as a target. The rehearsals went fine, the man never missed, and he always successfully surrounded them with knives without hitting them once. After weeks of this, the ringmaster okayed the act for the show. Kylie was thrilled, their plan would commence that night.

“In front of a live audience, Riley was murdered by knife after knife to her chest. Her screams became the talk of the town for years.” Clint heard Peter gasp softly. “With Riley dead, the doctors had no choice but to separate her from Kylie. The lovers did not get to celebrate their success for long, because the angry ghost of Riley showed up the very next night. The poor roustabout who found their bodies could barely tell who they were, they had been stabbed so many times.

“But that wasn’t the worst part! No, the rumour started that the vengeful spirit of the murdered twin still haunted the troupe and killed anybody who lied to their sibling.” Clint shuddered. “Barney held that over me for years. I couldn’t lie to him at all because I was terrified of being stabbed by a ghost!” Clint bowed theatrically.

Peter clapped until everyone gave polite applause. “That is scary, Uncle Clint! But you shouldn’t lie to people anyway,” he lectured sternly. Clint couldn’t possibly be expected not to laugh at that!

The eight year old only frowned deeper until Clint held his hands up in surrender. “You’re so very right, Peter, I’m sorry. My brother and I weren’t good kids.”  

Mollified, Peter stood on Tony’s legs to announce who would be up next. “Aunt Tasha, you’re up!”

The assassin took Clint’s place in front of her family. She looked nervous for a moment, something none of them had ever seen on her. “So,” she started, voice sharp. She cleared her throat, softening her tone. “This is complicated, my kroshka,” she met Peter’s gaze seriously. He nodded for her to go on. Peter was a smart kid, raised by a genius, but he was only eight. Natasha barely understood her own childhood. “I’m not sure which of my childhood memories are real and which are false,” she explained gently.

Peter scooted his butt off the couch, surprising the the woman with a hug. “That’s okay Tasha,” he assured her. Natasha wasn’t sure when she had become so entangled in this family; she never imagined she’d love a child like she loved Peter Stark-Rogers. Having children had never been in her own plans, but she would give anything for this kid’s happiness. “Fears are real even if their source isn’t anyway.” He looked up at her. It was such a wise thing for a child to say, all of the Avengers looked a little taken aback. “But you don’t have to tell one if you don’t want to.”

The redhead leaned down, placing a kiss on Peter’s forehead. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For you, my kroshka, I will.” Peter’s face brightened and he ran back to Tony’s lap, ignoring the squawk from his father.

“In that case, I’ll tell you one of the things I do remember.” Natasha tucked her hair behind her ears while she collected her thoughts. “Now, this isn’t real, but I remember it as though it were. The scientists that raised me made me believe that I spent years of my life training at a ballet studio.

“At this studio, I had an imaginary teacher, he name was Ms. Nida. Ms. Nida was very strict, and she scared me.” The corner of her lips twitched into a near smile, the false memories bittersweet. She sometimes wish they were real, because they were much nicer than her reality. “I know it may seem silly that I was afraid of a ballet instructor, but you know that look Steve gets when he’s angry at Tony?” She asked Peter.

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Pops has a scary angry face!”

Tony burst out laughing when Steve blushed, looking at his son, horrified. “Do I scare you?” he asked.

Peter shook his head. “No, I know you only get mad ‘cause you care. But if I didn’t know you, it’d be very scary!” Tony continued to laugh through the entire affair. Steve thought he enjoyed it a little too much.

Natasha waited for their attention to return before she went on. “Well Ms. Nida had a similar face when she got mad. And she could yell like an angry Tony.” It was Steve’s turn to chuckle when Peter shuddered. “So when we were learning our parts for Swan Lake, and I was having trouble remembering it, I tried to hide and skip lessons. I didn’t want her to yell at me. Ms. Nida knew all of the studio’s nooks and crannies, though. There was no way I was going to avoid her.

“She called out for me in each room as she searched. Her voice grew angrier with every yell. When she did find me, she slapped me over and over, and made me explain to the whole ballet troupe why they were going to be punished the next day; that it was all my fault. The embarrassment is what really frightened me in the end. I thought all of the other dancers would hate me. So my fear was of being hated.” Natasha finished, waiting patiently for Peter’s reaction.

For his part, the boy looked thoughtful for a moment. “But you’re not afraid of being hated now?”

She shook her head, smiling down at him. “I don’t like to be hated, but I don’t fear it. Some people won’t like you, kroshka, plain and simple. There’s nothing you’ll be able to do to avoid it so there’s no sense fearing it. All you can do is be yourself.”

“I know, there’s already kids at school who hate me,” he answered sadly.

“What!? Who are they? I will march down to that school-”

Steve cut him off. “Tony, you will do no such thing. People are allowed to not like Peter.”

Tony huffed. “Well they’re stupid, then. He’s perfect and brilliant and nice…” he tickled the kid in his lap, relishing in the giggles.

Steve watched them fondly. “Who’s next Peter?”

“Hmmm… You!” He pointed at Steve.

Steve smiled. “Well that’s easy. I was afraid-”

“No! You have to stand in front and tell it like a story!” Peter demanded, Tony nodding in agreement behind him. Steve sighed, moving to face the audience.

“Well, everyone knows that I wasn’t a healthy kid. I was constantly ill, too skinny, and had pretty bad asthma. It was just my mom and I, and we never had enough money, mostly because my medicine and doctor’s appointments cost so much. The obvious answer to your question, Peter, would be to say that I was afraid of dying, but it wasn’t that simple.

“I’ve never been afraid of dying. For one, my mother always taught me to believe in God, and I’ve never had trouble knowing that I’ll be in heaven after I die. Nothing could be scary about that. There were many winters when I would go to bed very aware that I may not wake up ever again.”

A harsh burst of air punched out of Tony at the same time that Peter let out a soft “oh.” Neither of them seemed to be aware of it as they watched Steve with rapt attention, waiting for more. It was easy to forget that Steve used to be so fragile. He just seemed invincible most of the time.

Steve gave them a sad smile. “That’s just how it was when a skinny poor kid got the flu back then. The flu vaccine didn’t even exist yet. I think I got my first one in the middle of the war,” he added as an afterthought. “Sometimes, being that sick and miserable, death sounded kind of nice. My body would finally stop suffering.” Steve met Peter’s tearful gaze and locked onto them. Peter had never been kept away from the reality of death and suffering. It was something Steve and Tony had agreed on before adopting the boy. He couldn’t have superheroes as parents and not be as prepared for the worst as one can be.

“What I was afraid of, was leaving my mother alone. She was so sad sometimes, lonely after my father died, and I had made it my mission in life to make her as happy as I could. She tried her best to put on a brave face whenever I got really sick, but she couldn’t hide the terror in her eyes. My mother couldn’t lose me, not if I could help it. That fear is probably the only thing that kept me alive through the worst of it. I would feel myself make the decision sometimes, the choice to not die. Because leaving her alone and sad was scarier than the pain of living.” His husband and son were both crying now, and Thor sniffed loudly.

Peter stood and faced his pops. Steve was prepared for a hug, but Peter didn’t hug him. Instead he grew very serious. “Thank you for staying alive. It was very brave.” He gave a firm nod, then sat back down. When had the night become this serious? Peter’s words surprised a small gasp from Steve. He had to clear his throat, decidedly not contributing more to tonight’s tears.

“You’re welcome. I love you.” They snuggled into the couch again, Peter forcing his dads to lean on each other to hold his tiny hands in the middle. He balanced himself on one leg from each of them. Without speaking, he pointed at Thor.

Thor beamed. “I would be honoured to tell a story, tiny Peter!” He stood so heroically, it was easy to forget he was in a t-shirt and sweats instead of his armour and cape. “It has been thousands of years since I was a child. Growing up as the son of the All-Father, I was raised as a warrior from birth. I was too strong to fear anything in Asgard or any of the nine-realms for that matter. No, I was too confident for my own good. What I did fear, was that I would not live up to my responsibilities.

“I knew from the beginning that someday, I must take over as king of Asgard. Frigga and Odin raised me well, and I knew that in theory I would be ready. But in practice, it was far too easy to fail. Technically, past the time when my body resembled a Midgardian child, I was certainly still a child in maturity and age, given Asgardian lifespans. In the 9th century AD, I was given my first task that resembled a practice run for being a king. I traveled to Midgard, and went by the name Donner. The All-Father had tasked me to promote the worship of Asgardians amongst the Norse-men. It seemed to be going splendidly, and my fear of leading and failing was fading.

“The fear was brought forth anew when I found out how the vikings used my name after I left. They slaughtered thousands of Christians in the name of the thunder god. I had never intended my followers to become so cruel. I must not have been clear enough in my leadership. It was an important wake-up call for me. The smallest mistake in handling a people could lead to disaster. That was probably what I would consider the end of my adolescence.”

The room was silent. No one was sure right away if Thor was finished. Peter finally broke the silence, “You don’t sound like you were ever a child.” His brow was furrowed in confusion. “I love you, Uncle Thor, but you’re weird.” It was definitely along the lines of what they were all thinking, but Peter had the bluntness of a child on his side.

Thor let out a boisterous guffaw. “You are not wrong, little one. The fears of an Asgardian prince are perhaps not like the fears of a Midgardian child. You may one day understand that they’re not too different either.” Steve noticed that Thor did that sometimes. He would say two conflicting things, but it sounded entirely true nonetheless. Steve supposed it came from the wisdom of his years. “With great power comes great responsibility,” the god summarized.

Peter looked filled with awe at the statement. He was so lucky to have so many cool aunts and uncles. Who else at school could say they had a god as an uncle? “Uncle Bruce, would you go next, please?”

Bruce stood in front of them all, fidgeting a little. Bruce didn’t talk about his childhood. Ever. They all had vague ideas about his history, but even Natasha hadn’t read about it in his SHIELD file. She normally valued knowing people over their privacy, but Bruce was so private and meek, it just felt wrong to pry. The scientist pulled his glasses off, wiped them with his shirt, put them back on. He glanced between Steve and Tony a few times before locking eyes with Tony. “Are you okay with me talking about my childhood with him?” he asked quietly.

Tony was the only one that knew. Bruce didn’t open up much, and had only shared small snippets with Tony in the strange twilight hours of long nights together in the lab. They came when the two were heavily sleep deprived, and usually after Tony had revealed something painful about his own childhood. Tony was deeply honoured to be in Bruce’s trust, but he still didn’t feel like he knew as much about Bruce as Bruce did about him.

The rest of the room watched them with baited breath. Even Peter seemed to pick up on the privacy of the moment and held his tongue. Tony held his best friend’s gaze. He had no issue with Peter hearing these things, his son had unfortunately heard worse. Wade Wilson’s past was pretty terrible, and the two of them seemed to attract all the children from broken homes at school. Tony liked to assume it was Peter’s amazing kindness that brought the saddest children to his side, seeking comfort. The kid’s heart was so pure and giving. Tony was only worried about Bruce. “Only if you’re okay to talk about it,” he answered eventually.

Another tense moment past before Bruce made up his mind. He sat down on the floor, smiling at Peter. “Is it alright if I sit while I tell my story, honey?” In response, Peter extricated himself from his parents’ laps and sat next to Bruce, locking their hands together. Peter gave him an encouraging smile. Bruce kept the tiny hand in his and his eyes on Peter’s through the whole story. It was so intimate, and Steve’s heart swelled. His family was so perfect.

“Well, I’m not sure how to start,” Bruce admitted quietly. “I guess I should start by tell you that not everyone should have children.” Peter nodded gravely. “My father was not a good man. At least, not while I knew him. My mother was far too good for him, and he knew it.” Bruce took a steadying breath. Peter’s hand in his gave him the strength to go on. He could do this.

“My mother, Rebecca, loved me very much. I was the center of her universe, and sometimes it made it easy to forget that my father was there on the sidelines. If we focused enough on each other, it was like we could enter our own little pretend world, where he didn’t harm us. We both feared him. If he came home smelling of booze, she would try to hide me away fast enough that only she would get a taste of his wrath, but it rarely worked.

“You see, Brian, that was his name, Brian thought he loved my mother. I’m not so sure he knew what love was. In truth, Brian loved to own her. She was his wife and that meant she was supposed to adore him. So when my mother loved me, showed me that love, he was furious. The jealousy consumed him more than his alcoholism. Brian hated me because in his eyes, I stole his wife’s attention from him. I don’t think Brian ever showed me a single ounce of kindness, only hate. He beat me bloody and told me how much he wished I had never been born, how much I didn’t deserve his Rebecca.”

“He was wrong,” Peter whispered without thinking.

Bruce smiled sadly. “Yes, he was. I luckily had my mother’s love and her cousin’s love to counter that hate. They made sure I knew that his hatred had never been my fault.” He sighed, and Steve thought he had never looked so old and worn. “Nevertheless, I feared him. One night, my mother and I packed up some bags, and were going to escape. Brian, in a drunken rage, he killed my mother.” Peter gasped. “I watched him beat her to death in the driveway, too afraid to do anything. He ended up in a mental facility and the last I ever saw him was when I testified against him in court. Brian was my only childhood fear, but I also never faced it. Peter, I,” he cut himself off. The room was deafeningly silent. “I don’t tell you this easily, and it’s not just to show how scared I was as a child.

“I was about your age when it happened. It’s okay to be afraid, but I never stopped, and that’s where I want you to be different. My unfaced fears became anxiety and fear of a lot of things around me. The only way I found comfort was not in my mother’s cousin who raised me after the murder, but in my imaginary friend ‘Hulk.’ Hulk was fearless and angry like I wished I was, and he could handle all of my fears for me. I depended on this figment of my imagination all the way into adulthood. So when the accident happened, and I got the Other Guy, it shouldn’t have surprised me. I made him.”

Peter wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck. They hugged, tight. No one had anything they could say to a revelation like that. Tony had no regrets in letting Bruce tell the tale, and Steve was glad for it. Peter had recently been more curious about the Other Guy and how that could be his Uncle Bruce at the same time. Neither of them felt capable of explaining the ideas of repressed anger that Bruce encompassed, but Bruce had explained it beautifully and in a way an eight year old could still understand. “I love you and the Other Guy, Uncle Bruce,” Peter spoke fiercely. He pulled back from the scientist’s arms, smiling at him brightly. “You are him and he is you. I love all of you.”

Everyone was sniffling at this point. How could they not? Peter stood there, clueless to how much they were all admiring him. “Uncle Phil!” he singsonged. It was so at odds with the mood of the room, that it broke the tension. Steve could feel them all shift, changing focus and allowing the stifling emotions to dissipate. “Your turn!”

Coulson spoke the same way he gave mission reports and debriefings. Clint was grinning at the man the entire time, snickering occasionally, and Phil was expertly ignoring the man. “I’m not nearly as interesting,” he started, all dry humour and sarcasm. “I was afraid of Bloody Mary as a kid. I’m sure you’ve heard of her.” Peter nodded in agreement. He and Wade had already tried to summon her several times before JARVIS explained that it was only an urban legend. “My older sister had me convinced that her friend at school had been killed by her. She even made a fake newspaper article and obituary. My whole family got in on it. I was terrified. I didn’t successfully make it through her name three times until I was sixteen. They haven’t let me live it down to this day.”

Peter clapped and laughed before a yawn overtook him. “Thank you guys, I loved it!” He looked at Steve. “I promised I’d go to bed, so, I gotta go.” The rascal even made it as far as the hallway before Steve caught up to him, scooping up the squealing bundle.

“I think you’re forgetting one of the people in the room.” He began walking back to the group, meeting Tony’s amused expression equally.

Peter shook his head. “Nope! Daddy’s not afraid of anything.”

Tony stretched with an exaggerated yawn. “You heard the kid, I have no fears!” His shit-eating grin was begging for a smack. Peter giggled gleefully, enjoying their little collaboration.

“Oh really?” Steve cocked a brow at Tony, smirking. “Fearless Tony Stark-Rogers never needs my comfort again, huh?”

Tony stuck his tongue out. “Yeah!”

“I don’t think so, mister,” Steve made sure to put on his stern Papa voice. “This was your idea, you can finish it up.”

Tony scrunched up his nose, never able to deny that voice. Steve knew it, too, and really, Tony should be glad that the man didn’t abuse the power. “Fine, fine. I’ll go.” He stood to face the crew. If only Peter weren’t here, he’d make something meaningless up. But everyone had been so honest, and his son deserved the truth from him. “I never had to worry about money, or being sickly, or believing in superstitions, or leading worlds for that matter.” Tony allowed time for the chuckles. He was nothing if not a showman. “Being born a Stark prodigy, normal childhood fears and wants were just not a consideration. I can relate to the abusive father bit, though I didn’t fear Howard. If anything, I pitied him.

At first, I thought I was afraid of alcohol. I thought maybe it was the reason my father could be so cruel. But even then, I wasn’t afraid of it. I merely hated my father for succumbing to it. If I could drink it as a four year old and not be so mean, then clearly my dad must just be weak.” He glanced over at the minibar against his will. “No, I didn’t fear alcohol either.”

Tony began pacing. “What kept me up at night and fed my nightmares, well it was far spookier.” He quirked a lopsided smile at his son. Peter was watching him carefully. He was enjoying the show, but he knew his dad well enough to know that Tony was only pretending to be blasé. His dad was going to tell him something important, and Peter would hang on every word like usual.

“I was afraid of myself.” Clint snorted, and Natasha smacked him. “Yeah, I know how it sounds, but I was. No matter how many times I went over the data, the only conclusion I could come to that could explain why I had no friends and not even my parents loved me was that I was wrong. Something was wrong with me. I shouldn’t exist, I must be an abomination. And it frightened me.

I was afraid that I could never be good either. If I was so utterly unloveable and wrong to begin with, how could I get better? I tried lots of ways to be different, to just be someone else other than the loathsome Anthony Edward Stark, but I always came back terrifyingly me.” He frowned, trying to think of the words to make this make more sense. “The way I saw it, I suppose, was that there was two of me. There was the one doing the thinking and the feeling, and there was the scary other that somehow always ruined it for me. And I didn’t know how to get rid of him.” He shrugged. “Whelp, time for bed!”

“What!?” Peter and Clint yelled in unison. “You can’t leave it there,” Clint continued. “There’s no resolution! What kind of story telling is that!?”

“Yeah!” Peter agreed enthusiastically.

Tony threw his hands up. “Well I don’t know! I don’t have a resolution. That was my childhood fear, I answered the question!”

Peter shook his head. “Fine, I’ll finish for you!” Peter stood in front of Tony, mimicking the man’s body language. He cleared his throat. Tony was thrilled to see where this was going. “So I kept trying to run away,” Peter tried to make his voice deep. Tony’s grin was so wide it hurt. They were all laughing silently, watching the scene unfold. Peter was so cute it was hard to remember the subject matter. “I got in trouble,” Peter gave up on doing the voice. “I made friends while pretending to be not Tony. All me new friends thought I was fun and all party, but I knew the real me. The scary other.” Tony suddenly felt kind of cold. Was he so transparent that an eight year old could read him like this? He had never wanted Peter to be the one teaching everyone else how to be. It was his job to teach Peter, but he often found himself learning more than teaching.

“It was only when I finally let some people meet the real me, and found that they didn’t run away screaming, that I began to face my fear. If Uncle Rhodey, I mean Rhodey, wasn’t scared of me, then why should I be scared of me. So then I realized I was actually awesome and cool, and I met Steve who was also awesome, and we fell in love and lived happily ever after!” Peter finished big, raising his fists in a victorious stance. Tony stood in shock behind him while the rest of his family erupted into applause.

“Bravo!” Thor shouted.

“Now that’s resolution!” Clint agreed.

Peter turned to grin up at his dad. He snatched the man’s hand, and began dragging him towards his room. “Now come tuck me in, Daddy.” Tony let himself be led away, looking back at Steve with his face frozen in shock. Steve only smiled at them.

When Tony finally joined Steve in bed, he shuddered, letting the tears fall. Steve sat up, glad when JARVIS turned up the lights without being asked. “Peter hit a little too close to home?” Steve asked, pulling Tony into his arms. Tony didn’t respond, but nodded into his husband’s chest. Steve let him cry for a little longer. “He was right, y’know.”

Tony pulled away and eyed the blond with disbelief. Steve wasn’t having it, though. “No really, Tony, he was. Look at all the awesome people who love you. If you were so abhorrent, then either we’ve all lost it, or kid you got it wrong. Now which do you think is more likely?”

Tony made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I’m still not convinced you haven’t all lost it.”

Steve chuckled a little as well, pulling Tony down with him to lie down. “Maybe it’s a little of both,” he admitted happily. JARVIS lowered the lights again, and the two men held each other until they fell asleep.      

#thearkoctoberchallenge2018 #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #marvel #fanfic #superfamily #superhusbands #peter parker

[sparda3g]

Food Wars! Shokugeki no Soma Chapter 272 Review

What a strange revelation that was in the last chapter. A new guy came in knocking and take down one of the best chef out there. He claimed to be Asahi Saiba and his next target is his brother. That is if he is blood related and born under another mother. Whatever the case may be, this chapter didn’t waste any time to step into high gear with a small time-skip; long enough to accelerate the next phase of the plot of Saiba Family’s dilemma.

Erina has been stressing out with the issue of the mysterious Saiba. She sent out Alice and Ryou on the mission to find any remaining Noirs, but Alice is exhausted from searching or chasing. That or she wants to laze around for some hot spring. It wouldn’t surprise me if that’s the case really. So it’s either Erina overly working her members off, based on how Soma reacted with taking turns on a “business trip,” or Alice is Alice. You decide.

It’s been a few weeks since the last phone call with Joichiro and never again they were able to contact him. Well, Soma is right after all. What’s the point of having a phone really? Anyway, it also means Tsukuda is delaying the complete backstory of Saiba, let alone how Joichiro lost to him. Soma has been acting weird ever since the last chapter and this one is no exception. It’s obvious that the revelation of a possible long-lost brother has gotten his mind scramble, which is even clearer later on, but he’s trying to be all cool about it. Somehow.

The discussion is interrupted by Hisako with the news that the lecturer they hired has arrived. I remember that Tsukasa was teaching the class before, but now that many of former members are graduated as well as the association of Azami is over, Erina needs a fill-in for open slots. The timing couldn’t be any better to seek for an assistant. She even goes as far as inviting an outsider with great experience. What could possibly go wrong?

Thanks to a small time-skip, it is believable for Saiba to infiltrate the Tootsuki Academy, especially since Erina is in need of assistants, though how he got in remains unknown. What better way to infiltrate than having a typical class entry. You know how one character meets another person before school time, then big surprise, that same person is his/her classmate. Well, Saiba more or less did that, only as a lecturer and he goes by the name of Suzuki. It’s obviously him, but I forgive the series for acknowledging its obviousness and even joke about it.

We do have his complete character design, who now looks like a character from 3-Gatsu no Lion if it was drawn by Saeki. Charmingly innocent looking but his vibe is nothing but evil. What’s a bit funny as well is his aura is oozing darkness. Even when he smiles, the dark chills spreads out like a virus. The girls were fangirling but instantly, that fade away. Wow, couldn’t even hide your evilness, huh, Saiba. What are you going to do now?

Soma is still acting weird for being overly carefree about the situation. Last time I seen another character’s reaction to this, they began questioning and monologue about it. Because of Noirs’ disappearance, it brought to Megumi’s attention that maybe everyone has left already or no longer doing their job. Like Monarch for instance; he’s just hanging out in Japan like a vacation. It’s 素晴らしいです! They’re so good at hiding their trails and disguises to roam freely. It’s definitely like a Yakuza alright; you can take out some, but not all. But the real problem is when that happens, it means something has happened. Saiba is in Japan right now.

Soma is still cool about the case. I can’t help but think he’s channeling Tsukusa with its awareness of its plot because he jots down things that fans have said in the past. It’s funny how he points out that he would bet Saiba would disguise as a lecturer they hired. First rock, paper, scissor, now this? He’s a psychic. It’s also funny yet strange how he casually say that his own father has an illegitimate son, which is among the ones that fans cried about. See, I can’t be that upset if the series acknowledges its absurdity since that would mean it’s written on purpose. Still, I would be careful on the choices next time; just my opinion.

So how does Saiba fits in with the crowd? With snacks and treats, of course! Hey, it’s better than treating your family with an Xbox after saying you hate them. It’s funny because this sort of tactic tends to be typical in cartoon shows where the teacher is nice at first, but later reveal evil; just because he/she spoiled the students. But who cares. If it works, it works. He got everyone on the palm of his hand.

Soma and Megumi come across him, which means the plot is accelerating at high speed. Good, because I don’t want to dance around the “mystery” for too long. Saiba is acting the friendliest teacher ever; nearly topping Barney the Dinosaur (I know what I wrote). He’s trying to invite the two into their welcoming party. Then the two students have to open their mouths to expose them as Elite Ten members; most importantly, Soma. Now, Saiba can enter his next phase of plan.

He gets along with the two and explains that he grabs some snacks at the convenience store, which of course won the students over for safety measure. How convenient. While he’s all friendly, his main target is to get Soma’s attention for whatever he has in mind, so he politely introduced himself that even got Soma lost his train of thought. This arc must be the Confused Soma Arc. What’s next? Amnesia? There’s one interesting to note that happens during their awkward intro.

For starters, Soma confirms that he has no interest on romance at this time, since he doesn’t think highly of it. It’s what I expected and like I said, whoever got the tendency of romance earlier before he even established tends to be on the loser side. I can be wrong, but the point is no one is ahead. However, what’s really interesting is Saiba tells him the father’s advice that he missed out in chapter one. In other words, Soma finally knows, though looks like he doesn’t understand entirely. The important thing is the seed is planted.

Saiba claims that he learned it from his “master.” I don’t know if he’s hiding, hence not saying “father,” or he really meant it that way, which would confirm the relationship entirely, but it’s worth noting that Soma doesn’t know it’s from Joichiro himself. Because of it, he doesn’t think so highly of it, but rather a bit bewildered. It makes me wonder if Soma will think highly when he puts the pieces together; that is if he learns about Suzuki’s true identity. I know I said Saiba all day, but it is him. If not, well…I’ll think of something. I do wonder if he believes in that advice or not.

Another interesting piece is Soma actually feels familiar with his presence. That could only mean that they have met before. The only question is whether under the same family, two family collide (how awkward that would be), or a student meets son ordeal. I am still going with the third option, but I wonder how or when they met before the series started. It is possible for the first option, but how old is Saiba? The second option could happen as well, even if it is odd. After all, “that” series did it as well, which sounded like a Seinen writing because Shounen must keep it “formal.” Everyone got their own ways.

Like previously said, this chapter wastes no time to begin a new danger. After a nice advice from his “master,” he plays by the “fair is fair” rules with Soma. Now that he shared the secret, it’s only fair for him to get something in return. What could it be? How about a Shokugeki? That escalated quickly. Will Soma win? I don’t see Erina, so no. If he does win, well, looks like Shounen Jump is now following first battle, only lost treatment for the villain. It’s enough that we have the lost child subplots going on. That all said I’m interested to know if there’s anything on the line. Hopefully, there’s no cop out to this and whatever the bet is, it should be finalized.

I thought this was a good chapter. While I still have the bizarre feeling from the last chapter, this one calms me down with some of funny antics as well as some of interesting notes, especially the advice is finally said. Although, Soma doesn’t know who said that exactly, the seed is planted for him to begin understanding the flow when the time comes. It’s going to grow slow, but it will be worth it. A Shokugeki between Saiba and Soma could be intriguing if there’s something on the line, rather than just a villain’s credibility boost. That or Soma wins first try. Or he can decline. The answer lies in the next chapter.

#food wars #shokugeki no soma #shokugeki no souma #chapter 272 #review #spoilers

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

A Bump in the Road: Chapter 1

Summary:  Your life is perfect. It’s everything you want it to be and more... until a series of events makes it crumble around you. However, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel and it comes from an unexpected source. Pairing: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Swearing (as always) Word Count: ~2,253 A/N: @just-some-drabbles This is for JSD’s Rom-Com challenge. It’s my first time writing something for this genre and I hope you all enjoy it!

Masterlist // Next Chapter

You had your interview today. It was a huge opportunity for you and you’d woken up early; way before your boyfriend, Austin, had even stirred. You gave him a kiss on the cheek but he was so dead to the world he didn’t even twitch. You smiled down at him and took a moment to appreciate the life you’d built together. You’d moved in nearly a year ago to an apartment on the north side of New York City, but everything was still a roller coaster. Austin often worked late into the day, earning enough money to make up for the much smaller amount you currently made. He was busy and you did your best to support him, waking up early to make him lunches and having dinner ready before he got home. You only had the one part-time job, so time wasn’t an issue for you and you loved cooking anyway.

Today, though, you focused on yourself. You spent extra time in the bathroom, getting your makeup just right and taking special care with your hair. By the time you were satisfied you looked gorgeous. You took the time to scramble up some eggs and make some toast, not wanting to stop for food on the way. You glanced at the clock.

Yup, right on time, you thought to yourself, smiling a little. You were determined to make today perfect.

“I’m leaving for the interview, babe! Have a good day!” you called down the hallway, earning only a garbled “Good luck” in response. You smiled, chuckling a little. You were surprised you got a response at all; He was always grumpy and nonverbal in the morning.

It was early- the sun was barely up- but people were already bustling up and down the street. Shops were opening and people headed every which way on their journey to work. You unlocked your phone and started playing some music through your headphones before pulling up directions to the building they’d told you to come to for the interview.

It was only a few stops on the subway, then a short walk. Nothing too horrible, but you’d have to go into Manhattan, which you hated. That was part of why you’d given yourself so much time; If there was an unexpected delay or if something went wrong, you wouldn’t be late.

The subway was packed, as always, but you made it onto your train and arrived safely at your stop a short while later. You emerged from the subway station, realizing only at that moment that it looked like it was going to rain (and soon, by the looks of those clouds).

You watched in horror as a thick sheet of rain made its way down the street, straight towards you. You ducked into the nearest cafe, cursing yourself for not checking the weather or thinking ahead enough to bring an umbrella.

Still, you had some time and getting a cup of coffee definitely wasn’t the end of the world. The building was close by and, if need be, you could make a run for it. You’d get a little wet, but it wouldn’t be too bad. You decided to hold out to see if it got a little less horrible first, though, and enjoy your coffee in the warmth of the shop in the meantime.

To your delight, it let up only a little while later. Your coffee had barely even cooled down enough to drink.

You grabbed your jacket, threw it on quickly, then grabbed your purse and made a hasty exit from the shop. You pulled your phone out and were so engrossed in bringing up the directions that you didn’t have time to dodge the man that was storming out of the shop you were walking past, phone jammed angrily to his ear.

“Listen, punk! I didn’t sign up for-”

You had just enough time to look up at the noise before he bowled into you, knocking you to the wet, cold ground. It felt like getting hit by a brick wall. As if that weren’t enough, your coffee had been shoved from your hand and spilled down your entire front, ruining your shirt completely and soaking you with hot coffee.

You looked down at yourself in horror. You didn’t have time to go back home and change. You had time, still, but not that much. You started panicking. You had to get a new shirt.... and oh, fuck, pants, too. The coffee had stained those, too (not to mention they were soaking from landing in a puddle.

“Is this really happening?” you asked, barely holding it together. “This can’t be happening,” you said incredulously.

“Oh, hell, I’m so sorry,” he said, demeanor changing in an instant. “Call you back, Steve,” he said absently to the person he’d been on the phone with. He ended the call and shoved his phone in his back pocket. He extended a hand which you took reluctantly. You had to get a change of clothes, and fast. Your blood froze when you realized. Did you even have enough money for a completely new outfit? You racked your brain, thinking. If you were careful with what you bought, you’d probably still have enough for bills and groceries this month, but-

“Miss?” the man who’d knocked you over asked hesitantly, leaning down slightly so he was eye level with you. You blinked, realizing he’d been talking to you while you’d been lost in your own head. It was only then that you really looked at him and you swore you stopped breathing.

He was stunning. Steel blue eyes bored into yours, concerned frown on his face. His short dark brown hair was styled nicely and you had the overwhelming urge to run your fingers through it; it looked so soft. You realized you were staring and quickly avoided his gaze, dusting yourself off self-consciously.

“Sorry, what?” you asked, distracted. As pretty as this man was, you had to figure everything out before your scheduled interview time, which was looming closer by the second.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes roaming you up and down for any injuries.

Was that a Brooklyn accent? It sounded like a Brooklyn accent. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said. It wasn’t technically a lie. You weren’t hurt, but you were about to have a meltdown. “I, uh, really have to go. I’m in a rush,” you said distractedly. It was harder than it should have been to turn around and walk away from him, but you had things to do. With one last look at him you turned and started jogging away, purse clutched under your arm, jacket held over the worst of the coffee stain.

“Wait! Please!” you froze, surprised, as his hand closed gently around your arm. You turned and eyed him up and down suspiciously. You were suddenly aware of how much bigger he was than you. You’d taken some self defense classes, but he looked ripped. You didn’t like your chances if he ended up being a creep. Once you’d stopped, though, he let go of your arm and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have- Uh, please let me make it up to you,” he said earnestly.

“What do you mean?” you asked, genuinely surprised. Chivalry from a random passerby? In New York City? In 2017?

“Let me pay for the dry cleanin’, or-” he looked at your soiled white shirt and grimaced. “-Or just replace it altogether. That was completely my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was goin’, and-”

You were... pleasantly surprised. That was a kind offer. However, you didn’t have time to put your clothes through dry cleaning and didn’t want to just take money from a stranger.

“I’m sorry, I really am in a hurry. I have an interview in-” you checked your watch and let out a strangled cry “-45 minutes! I have to go buy new clothes and-”

“Let me take you shoppin’. I’ll pay for all of it,” he said seriously.

You gaped at him, taken completely off guard. “Are you for real right now?” you asked, looking him up and down like he was some sort of alien.

He nodded earnestly, waiting for your answer.

You bit your lip, weighing your options. Somewhere between thinking about how much time you had left and how much money you had in your bank account you hit Fuck It.

“Alright, but let’s hurry, please,” you said, nodding to him. His smile was radiant and you felt your cheeks heat under his gaze.

“Thanks, Doll,” he said as he took your hand and pulled you down the street. You realized only then that he had a glove on his hand and it felt... surprisingly hard underneath. A prosthetic maybe? You knew you should have been more upset about a stranger holding your hand, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Barneys? You’re taking me to Barneys?” you asked, staring up at the huge luxury department store in shock.

He shrugged, looking between you and the store. “It was close by and I hear they have nice clothes.”

You scoffed. That was the understatement of the century. “You know how expensive they are, right?” you asked, eyeing the people who went in and out of the store warily.

He chuckled and pulled you along, into the store. “I think I’ll be ok, but thank you for being worried about my financial well-bein’,” he said, stopping to look at the directory. “Women’s... women’s...” he mumbled as he scanned the sign. “Ah, floor five. Let’s go,” he said, stepping onto the escalator. You shuffled along behind him, eyes roaming the department store as you went up the levels. You didn’t even dream of coming in here. If you had that much money to spend on clothes you’d put it towards savings instead.

“What time is your interview?” he asked, glancing at his watch.

“10:15,” you said, nervousness returning at the mention of the looming deadline.

“We’ve got time, but it’ll be close,” he said easily, stepping off the escalator onto the fifth floor. “Let’s get this done and get you out of here and on your way,” he said, letting go of your hand to start searching through racks of clothes. You started searching, too. It was only a few minutes later when he popped up between shelves of clothes, an elegant white blouse in his hands.

“Here, how about this?” he asked, holding it out to you.

“It’s perfect,” you said, admiring it. He even got the size right and he didn’t even have to ask.

“Just some pants now, then?” he asked, eyeing your stained pair guiltily.

You hummed your assent, moving to the other side of the floor where they kept their bottoms. You found a passable pair within a minute or two, thankful for all of the nice clothing options.

“All set?” he asked, surprising you again. Man, he was good at sneaking up on you.

“Yeah, seems like,” you said, holding up the pants a little for him to see.

“Let’s go pay, then,” he said, nodding his head towards the escalators.

You nodded, suddenly a little sad your time with him would be over soon. He was a gentleman, something you didn’t see a whole lot of nowadays. Although you convinced yourself your eyes were playing tricks on you, it almost seemed as though he was having similar thoughts, frown creasing his brow.

Ten minutes later you’d paid for the clothing and changed in the store’s bathroom, throwing the tags and soiled clothes into the trash. You had to admit, the shirt did look great on you. He’d chosen well.

You went back to the front of the store where he said he’d be waiting and, to your surprise, a taxi was waiting at the curb for you. He beckoned you over, opening the door for you.

“You look great. You’re gonna kill at that interview, Doll,” he said, smiling at you. You felt your cheeks heat again and gave him a small smile back.

“C’mon, you’re gonna be late,” he said, gesturing to the cab. “I’ve already paid for wherever you need to go, and Albert here has promised to get you there quickly.”

“You didn’t have to-”

“Go!” he said, smiling widely at you.

He was right. You were going to be late. You slid easily into the cab and buckled your seat belt as he closed the cab’s door.

It was only once the door shut that you realized you hadn’t said thank you. You spun in your seat as the cab pulled off of the curb. He was still on the sidewalk, watching your taxi as it went. He seemed surprised that you’d turned around, confusion clear on his face. You smiled and mouthed “thank you” very clearly and he broke out in a smile.

It only hit you once you turned back around. You hadn’t even gotten his name.

The light had turned green and your eyes widened in horror. You rolled down the window and stuck your head out and yelled “What’s your name?!”

He’d turned to walk away but at the sound of your voice he turned around again. Even as the cab took you farther and farther away you could see the smile on his lips. He opened his mouth and said something, but you couldn’t hear it. He was too far away and the sounds of the city drowned him out.

Then, the cab turned the corner and he vanished from view.

Chapter 2

This series is finished, but if you want to be tagged in my other fics, check out this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

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#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Steve Rogers #captain america #marvel fanfiction #jsdchallenge

[chiefdefendofcherryblossom]

NABC Writer’s Challenge

Good evening my fellow writers! I’m sorry I wasn’t able to post earlier, it’s been stressful and hectic. How’d your 1000 word ramble go? Here’s mine: 

My demon probably wasn’t going to agree. 

“I’m going, Barney.” 

The spirit hovering by me glowered. “Don’t call me that! How many times do I have to tell you, it’s Barnabus! And I will not let you!” 

“Barnabus,” I grumbled under my breath as I shoved things into my suitcase. “A lovely name for a lovely young demon.” 

Barnabus’s aura didn’t darken like it did when he was really ticked at me. Instead, he sighed. “I’m your guardian angel, Dern. No demon.” 

“Really? Well, you might want to take a refresher course in angelic qualities. You don’t even remotely bring angel to mind, let alone angelic guardian.” 

I probably shouldn’t taunt the powerful being like I did. But he was being annoying, so I was going to be annoying back. 

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Think about it! I can test the first real-life time machine. The pay will set us up for years. And I already bought the ticket.”  

I glanced around. I’d packed everything, hadn’t I? 

“You want to know why they pay so well? To attract idiots like you to be lost forever in time! How’d you like to live out your life stuck in the 1100s? And think about me, Dern! This really makes it very hard to keep you safe. It’s better to not go.” he nodded, as if he’d settled the matter. 

I grabbed my suitcase and walked to the door, putting on my coat. I ran through my mental list. Keys, ticket, wallet, check. 

“Well, Barney, you can stay if it makes you all that happy.” I opened the door and let myself out, smiling tauntingly.  

Grumbling, he floated to my side. “I knew you’d change your mind,” I said, locking the door to my one-bedroom apartment shut. “Boy, am I glad to leave this place.” 

“And you expect certain death to be better?” Barnabus demanded. 

I grinned. “There’s no death in the contract, let alone certain. And even that’s got to be better than what we’ve got. If life were food,” I explained nonchalantly as we walked to the car, “Mine would be that bland, awful oatmeal mush that Dad used to make, and yours something that’s making the fridge smell like mold. Compared to that, even McDonalds would be good.” 

I slid into the driver’s seat of my blue truck. “Which means that death, even if it isn’t certain, is an upgrade! If we don’t die, it’s still a win-win.” 

Barnabus rolled his eyes. His spheres of angelic sight must be loose, they’d fall out of his head soon. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so cranky - he wouldn’t be able to jump at shadows at every corner. Or maybe, he’d be even worse, because with no sight, all you’d see was shadows, right? So maybe I didn’t want to go there after all. “Need me to fix that?” I said. 

Barnabus frowned. “What?” 

“Looks like a few of your screws are loose,” I told him, spinning the wheel for a right turn. “Wouldn’t want those eyes to fall out and make you even more cynical.” 

Barnabus’ only response was, “I can’t believe I still like you, Dern.” 

I laughed. “Yeah, I’m a charmer, huh? A bad influence, too. Double points for me.” 

I adjusted my rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection. 

Tall, lanky boy with thick, unruly blond hair, smirking at the empty space where Barnabus’ reflection should be. 

“What makes me so special that I get my own demon?” I asked. “Or does everyone get a demon and nobody knows? That doesn’t seem like it’d work so well.” 

Barnabus paused. 

“Well, when your mother died…” 

I swallowed. “Yeah?” 

“She, well, wanted me to look after you.” 

“Why didn’t she come do that herself?” My tone had more bite than I meant it to. 

“That’s not how it works, Dern. She...she’s busy.” 

“Busy? She’s dead. She should have plenty of time for me now.” I scoffed. “Even dead, I’m second priority.” 

I readjusted my mirror, so I couldn’t see Barnabus’s expression and flustered hand movements. Why did it irritate me so much? 

“Anyways...most people don’t have one specific guardian assigned to them. You’re a special case, Dern.” 

“Yeah,” I grumbled, turning left. “So I’ve always been told.” 

It’s not bad, Dern. You’re just...special. 

Us? We’re the disabled kids. Otherwise known as ‘special.’ 

Would you cut it out, Dern? You always act as though you’re so special!

I’m here to help your...special case. 

When will you start acting like a normal child?! 

“So special.” I murmured, flicking off my blinker. 

Barnabus sighed. “I’m sorry, Dern.” 

I stared at the picture that I’d taped next to my speedometer. Clara had her dark red hair tied in a messy bun, tongue wagging, left arm draped over my shoulders. I was laughing. Everything’s easier if you laugh, she’d told me. 

I chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Few people can be like I can.” 

 Reporting to the lab was exciting. Even Barnabus didn’t complain, taking in the movie-like surroundings. Pristine office, official workers buzzing around. I walked up to the counter and flashed my ticket. “Dern Reddcunt. I’m here to test the time machine?” 

The short lady at the desk looked me over disapprovingly. “Uh-huh...one moment.” She clicked away on her computer for a few minutes, long enough for me to get bored, which, granted, wasn’t very long. I blew into Barnabus’s face, and he crackled lightning into mine. 

I looked up as a little kid pushed through the doorway and looked over the lady’s shoulder.

“A kid?” Barnabus whispered.  He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with Metallica on it. His black hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a month, there were dark circles under his green eyes, and he held a huge cup of what I assumed was coffee. Despite all this, there was that wiry grin that most tweenagers have, and he seemed rather energetic. 

“So this is my guy, huh, Ariel?” 

The lady nodded. “Dern Reddcunt.” 

I frowned. “Your guy? But you’re -” 

The boy grinned, raising his mug. “A dweeby kid?” 

I nodded. “Exactly. And you don’t look like you belong...here.” I glanced over my surroundings of white lights, whiter walls, crisp business suits - and back at him. Nope, he definitely didn’t match. 

His eyes looked like static electricity trapped in a bottle. He smirked. “I’m Alistair Sheldon, and I invented the time machine. And I’ve just employed you to test it.” 

He glanced back at the desk lady. “See ya, Ariel.” he winked at her, and she rolled her eyes, smiling. 

“Come on, kid.” he pulled open the door to what looked like a broom closet.  

“Kid?” I grinned at his snark, jumping after him. 

He shrugged. “People always called me that. Now I can do it to you.” 

“And is this your...cleaning closet?” 

Alistair laughed. “It used to be! Now it’s updated and renovated and made holy,” 

I raised an eyebrow. “By what?” 

His grin was so cocky. Oh, this kid was begging to be taken down a notch. “By my presence,” he said simply, and marched into the room. 

I walked after him. Barnabus huffed. “Rude child.” he floated down the stairs. 

“Whoa,” I breathed. “Some broom closet.” 

It had been taken down into the whole basement level. Inset lights made up nearly the whole ceiling, and the place was divided into what looked like at least 50 different cubbyholes, a large room in the center. Heavy rock and deep classical blared at each other, fighting for eardrum breaking dominance. The walls had family pictures taped to them, and random colorful stains. Tools, trash, paper, oil, and various things lay strewn all over the place. Alistair smiled genuinely. “My favorite place in the world,” he spread his arm, indicating the whole place. “My lab.” 

I nodded. “Not bad for a twelve year old.” 

Alistair raised a finger. “Uh, I’ll have you know that I’m fourteen.” 

“Sure.” 

“Now if you’ll excuse me while I get your paperwork. In case you die or something. For legal status.” He turned away from me. “DAD! THE GUY IS HERE!”

I thought it was funny, if nothing else. Send me yours, I’d love to read them! 

There are several key components in writing that I have found. Prose/narrative, dialogue, description/setting, and characters, which is a HUUUGE element.  Anyway, today I want you to write three paragraphs - a minimum of 10 sentences, in deeply descriptive writing. Make me be able to feel, smell, see, touch, and hear everything. Let me know what characters look like and what vibe they’re putting off. Just make sure that as you write it, you get completely submerged into your setting, so the same thing can happen for your reader. 

Here’s mine. I tried two different examples. The first is with my character Vienna, the second with my friend Kasv. 

"Please...don't."

The tears roll down my face like wet beads, even as I try to suppress them. I rub at them with my sleeve, but the cloth is rough, and it irritates my raw skin.

"Get over it, you do this every day," I hiss to myself, scratching the scabs on my eyelids.

I curl in tighter to myself, huddling against my own body. "But it doesn't usually hurt like this, it doesn't!"

I feel a twinge of empathy for myself. "I know, I know. But you don't want to die, do you?" 

My eyes are shut so tight that they start to hurt, bright spots flashing in odd ways. "No," I admit in a whimper. "But I - I - " I choke on my tears and convulse softly, the fear physically seeming to squeeze my lungs. "I don't want to."

I rub my shoulder.  "I know, honey. I know. Let's do it quickly, alright?" 

"I - " a hiccup stops my voice, and a large tear drips off my nose. "I don't want to!" 

"Enough," I tell myself authoritatively. "You're going to live, I won't let you die. It'll only hurt for a few minutes."

Even as I sob and slide away, pushing against the hard wall,  suddenly feeling my bruised tailbone, I nod. I don't want to die, not yet.

I stared at the figure retreating. 

A feeling of blankness. Things this dramatic, they don't happen in real life. They are for stories. For heroes. 

But it has just happened. To me. I am no hero. I am a wretch of a human that has lost the best thing to ever happen to them. 

My eyes burn. I know I shouldn’t cry; boys don't cry. 

I cry. 

The tears hurt, each one feeling like a new weight that I’ve procured for myself. 

Hate. Hate hate hate. 

A part of me wishes to cry out in anger, hurt, and confusion. It comes out in a sad warble. 

My soul is splitting inside me. It hurts. Living hurts. I hurt. I am hurt and I hurt others. I hurt. 

Again, the wretched warble tries to push its way through my lips. 

A shoulder shoves past, knocking into me. 

Reality comes flooding back. I am in the train station. I need to do something. I cannot stay here and become a spectacle. 

A heavy breath. I want to go after them. 

No. I am not that weak. 

...but I am. 

I push through the others in the station, forcing my muscles, suddenly weak, to assist me. 

The fluorescent lights are both harsh and not bright enough. I can’t tell where they have gone. 

No! I can’t lose them!

Good luck, work hard, and have fun!

[alphawolfice1989]

Kevin the Villain

I noticed something this time that I don’t think I ever have before. I always assumed that Kevin knew Robin was going to break up with him and that he also knew she cheated with Barney because there’s just no way that he COULDN’T know when they’ve showed him as being so perceptive in the other episodes, including the very last one – and Barney’s coming right and saying they just cheated together. But this time I noticed when Robin goes to tell Kevin on the boat but it gets interrupted because the intern throws a drink, we’re being shown Sandy hitting on the intern but directly behind them, although you can’t hear what Robin is saying to Kevin, you can see Robin talking and she looks very grave. Whatever she’s saying has got Kevin looking very serious and grave too. Meaning Robin was starting to break up with him right then. We know from other episodes she’s terrible at breakups, so she was probably starting to launch into one of the clichéd breakup preambles that everybody recognizes. There is no doubt in my mind that Kevin absolutely knew she was trying to break up with him on that boat, so when she starts in again at the hospital he 100% knows what is coming. In that ER, Kevin is so manipulative that it just enrages me, like blood-pressure-is-skyrocketing enrages me. He knows that Robin cheated with Barney and he knows that she wants to break up with him, most likely FOR Barney. I mean, she already started to break up with him. Kevin is fully aware what’s about to happen, so when she tries again he purposefully blocks her, jumping in with “Me first!” and fortuitously choosing this very unromantic time and setting to say ‘I love you’ for the first time because it’s all pure manipulation. Still, Robin asks to jump in with her thing – in other words, she’s still planning to dump him. But Kevin’s not having any part of it. He knows if he keeps interrupting her he can say the right things to push all her buttons (buttons he knows from being her therapist) and manipulate her into changing her mind. It’s so creepy and disturbing and just plain WRONG. When Robin stops him a third time, clearly responding poorly to his ‘I love you’ and instead saying there’s something she has to tell him, any fool would know that means she doesn’t love you back and wants to break it off. Kevin’s response is that as a therapist he knows simply because something needs to be told doesn’t mean it needs to be heard. That is the exact opposite of the point of therapy. The point of therapy is to NOT keep things bottled up inside. The very point of therapy is to talk about these things that need to be said, to work through them. He’s just blatantly lying to her, and for someone with all these degrees he must know that. 

But still Robin’s soldiers on with her breakup attempt and desire to get to Barney – and that’s when Kevin really steps up the manipulation. Robin has this guilt-stricken, broken down look on her face as she tells him “I did something bad”. I feel like in that moment Robin is actually looking more to Therapist Kevin than she is to Boyfriend Kevin (which just goes to show that she should have stayed in therapy all this time!). She’s got all this guilt and shame on her back, building on a lifetime of already feeling like she’s unlovable and not good enough. Robin thinks she’s a horrible person and a mess. Her eyes are filled with tears she’s so distraught about this, desperately looking for emotional and psychological grounding, for someone to tell her that she ISN’T a mess, to tell her that she can still get it together and have a ‘normal’, happy life. Unfortunately, Barney only confirmed the whole mess idea with his answer because he doesn’t understand where Robin’s coming from psychological. But Kevin does because he acted as her therapist. It’s because of this that he can tell her exactly what he knows she needs to hear – that we’ve all done bad things and it doesn’t make you a bad person, that he doesn’t care what she did, that he loves her anyway. All of this is absolutely designed to play on her insecurities and self-doubts and self-hate by giving her that absolution and validation that she desperately craves. And at the same time, it’s also doing so in the most emotionally abusive way. He’s essentially saying, “You don’t have to feel guilty. I’m telling you it’s alright; I can forgive and overlook these horrible things about you IF you commit to me from now on”. It’s such a psychological guilt trip. He’s willing to give her absolution, which she already feels like she doesn’t deserve, but at a price. And even after all that, Robin’s still not entirely convinced or ready to give up on leaving him for Barney. Instead she poses the same question she put to Barney – and that’s what ultimately tips the scales. Kevin tells her, “You’re amazing, you’re entrancing, every little thing you do is wonderful, you’re so beautiful”. For somebody who’s inherently lacking self-confidence, particularly in this moment, that’s exactly what she needs to hear. Barney absolutely feels that same way about her, and a thousand times stronger. He could wax poetic about her for hours, but he doesn’t understand that’s what she needs. He doesn’t get that she has to hear that because he thinks it’s just an obvious given that of course she knows he thinks she’s wonderful. It’s only Kevin who has the rare psychological insight into the full depth of Robin’s self-esteem issues, both because he’s professionally trained and because he specifically acted as her therapist, using that training to break into her psyche. And here he uses all of that knowledge for evil, preying on Robin’s self-loathing and insecurity to get her to stay with him, all the way down to telling her that if they’re together long enough then one day she can see herself the way that he sees her – in another words, ‘I can fix you and make you no longer a mess. But you have to stay with me’. Kevin should have been helping her anyway as her therapist, but instead his desire for her makes him demand a price; I can fix you but you have to keep being my girlfriend. It’s so creepy and disturbing.

As many times as I’ve watched this episode, it’s always been Barney falling against the bar in pain at the end that captures you. But what stroke me this time around was that in the very scene, in that very moment when Barney is obviously distraught and Robin too just looks so empty and broken and miserable and RESIGNED – definitely not like a woman who’s happy to start a life with Kevin from this day forward – in that very freeze frame, Kevin is just sitting there grinning smugly and laughing like a cocky jerk knowing what he’s done, pleased that his manipulation was successful and rather than breaking up with him like she wanted a beaten-down Robin stays and HE gets to win.

I’ve hated Quinn long and hard to the depths of me, but after this rewatch I honestly feel like Kevin is the biggest villain in the history of HIMYM. None of them – not Quinn, not Shannon, not Greg, not Ted – none of them top Kevin’s sheer manipulation and selfish, cruel intent.

I’m obviously not yet up to 7.13-7.15, but I wanted to participate in the poll and come back later with more specific comments.

All of these second half of Season 7 episodes seem very manic and scattered, filled with desperate, crazy, over-the-top behavior, but if I had to chose a favorite from this bunch I’d have to go with “The Burning Beekeeper”. There are elements of “Tailgate” that are amusing and enjoyable, but ultimately Kevin’s very presence and trying to horn in on Ted and Barney, his continued manipulation of Robin, and his “That’s my girl!” comment make me seriously want to murder him.

But “The Burning Beekeeper” is one of only three episodes in the second half of the season that isn’t mired down with the presence of an outside love interest, AND we have the gang all together in one place for the entire episode. There’s also significant B/R interaction (Barney going to Robin for attention, Barney reminding her of their sexual history, Robin being so concerned for him, Robin admitting she’s uncomfortable talking about his sex life with other women), and Barney and Robin individually are so obviously distraught after what’s happened between them. Overall it’s a good representation of the characters and where they’re currently at without being offensive and OOC. Certainly, there’s so much more they could have done with “The Burning Beekeeper” and they tease a lot of potential that winds up being nothing, but I still find it one of the most inoffensive of Season 7’s second half.

For me, “46 Minutes” has to be the worst. The gang is divided with M/L splintering off for no reason whatsoever when they hate the suburbs and they’ll ultimately want to come back after just a few weeks anyway. Barney’s being over-the-top in his womanizing stripper behavior (but I do give him a pass because I understand why , and he doesn’t actually do anything with the women). But it’s really Kevin, again, that makes it so terrible - and even more so Robin’s behavior with Kevin. In “46 Minutes” Robin comes off even more as the broken down woman: doing whatever she thinks Kevin wants though she hates it, afraid to speak up and express her wants and needs, playing the role of the good little girlfriend for him, submitting to him sexually now. It all feels like a very emotionally abusive relationship to me. She’s not even being herself; she’s like Pod Robin. I want to get her out of there and get her help, like I’m rescuing her from a cult! And once again it’s disturbing to me that none of her friends recognize that or point that out. Even Future Ted writes it off as “early in any relationship, there’s a phase where you don’t say no to anything because you want to seem interesting, adventurous, and open-minded. I call it Early Relationship Chicken”. Uh, that’s not a thing - and if it is a thing for you then you’re dating incorrectly and probably have a very dysfunctional love life. If you can’t say ‘no’ to this person or turn down things you don’t want to do because they won’t like you, then you need to break it off as soon as possible. Early in the relationship is the best time to find that out.

http://barneyrobin.livejournal.com/1222815.html

#himym #livejournal entries