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antiloreolympus · 3 years

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7 Anti LO Asks

1. Do you know what really gets my blood boiling about this comic? Persephone and Demeter's relationship.

In the myths, Demeter and Persephone loved each other more than anything. Their reunion is so important - it marked the coming of spring and growth. A whole cult was dedicated to this for crying out loud. Yes, the myths were far from perfect, but the Persephone and Demeter myth showed the strength of a loving mother-daughter relationship with Demeter searching endlessly to find her child that was ripped away and had her innocence forcibly taken.

Now, RS is not the only author to make Demeter this over-bearing mother type in order to put more positivity onto the Hades-Persephone relationship. However, RS takes this trend to a whole new level - to the point where I would even consider it misogyny.

How is it, she takes this beautiful mother-daughter relationship and makes it out to be an abusive and controlling one, and then takes the Hades-Persephone relationship from a forceful one to a loving, perfect relationship with no problems? How is it ok to ruin one relationship to elevate another?

I understand that many versions of the myth try to downplay Hades' actions, and even make it so Persephone actually falls in love with him and there is no rape. But it doesn't change that this relationship was problematic, and meant to represent the loss of innocence.

Then fans have the gall to claim this comic is feminist and then claim on top of that that Demeter and Persephone's relationship was the same in the myth? These fans clearly don't know the myths, and neither does RS.

Making Hades a good person is fine. Changing it up a bit to make Persephone's loss of innocence something else is also fine. But ruining Demeter and Persephone's relationship? Especially when Persephone has to spend half the year with her? So horrible.

2. im sorry, but rachel cant introduce KRONOS coming back and then dropping it for several episodes to focus on a stake-less trail and persephone not knowing what lingerie to seduce hades in. like thats too much of an earth shaking development and huge stake plot point to just ignore for months to focus instead on something as minor as hxp's relationship, which only points out a huge flaw: why is hxp's relationship so minor in this? isnt the whole point supposed to be about them?

3. I think LO completely dropped the ball over Hades’ characterization.

From the first ep I thought ok, this is good, we have some bones to see he’s not that lucky in love and is just tired and lonely, and while ignoring the creepy actions towards Persephone, I thought ok, Artemis hates him, Hestia hates, even Ares hates him, maybe once Persephone finally sees the underworld and probably gets to know him it’ll be a clever twist and they’ll be proven wrong. The underworld will turn out to be fair and just, the citizens will love Hades, he’ll be revealed to be a good leader and king and not like his brothers, it’ll be like everyone saying Hades of myth isn’t actually that bad, and it’ll help reinforce why this sweet and bubbly Persephone wants him, she sees the real him, not the mean rumors and assumptions, this is perfect.

And then it just didn’t happen. The exact opposite happened, actually.

We’re shown the LO underworld is cruel and unjust, where the poor dead are forced into slavery and Hades created a harsh class divide with him and him only on top, the citizens hate him, the underworld gods don’t trust him and openly seem ok if he’s taken out of power, he’s not a good leader and king and doesn’t even want the job yet keeps it for his own ego and grip of power m, and on top of it all he is just like his brothers, if not worse. He loves to get violent over any little slight against him, he hoards wealth and resources to enrich himself while his citizens starve and struggle to survive, he’s corrupt, he controls all the media and laws to bend to his will, sleeps with his brothers wife for centuries behind his back while claiming to be holier than thou, he has sex with his secretaries who are made dependent on him for any way to survive, and now he lusts after his barely legal intern who is also now dependent on him for her way to survive, and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head.

LO perfectly set up to prove Hades isn’t the devil or the false pop culture assumption that he’s evil and to show some actual facts from myth, and yet Rachel only ended up reinforcing exactly that and even making him even worse with her made up ideas, all while thinking having Persephone ignore or excuse it somehow makes it not bad or even a good thing. It’s honestly kind of impressive just how bad of writing that actually is.

4. Chapter 172 is not that interesting. It’s setup had me excited to see Hephaestus and Hera and learning more about echo, but it’s cut so short. Because again the story can’t leave HXP out for 2 seconds.

I can also see why Zeus is gonna go insane.

5. i agree w/ other anon. LO should have pulled a PJO or a BoZ and just made up OCs and have them interact with the gods than whatever Rachel thinks shes doing, which is lying she's being accurate and faithful while completely changing all of it, removing what is needed, and adding what isnt so that it lines up with no actual myth besides like, various 50 shades fanfic she read in 2015 and some popular tumblr text posts.

6 . the animation studio behind blood of zeus literally can only draw one face for the men and one face for the women and they were still able to make the gods all look distinct and hot while LO can't even bother to use more than 6 colors and can only have the women look as tiny as possible with the biggest boobs while the men are all just lego men.

7. ////FP SPOILERS////

Okay so like I stopped reading LO way back before season 1 ended, and a majority of my knowledge of the series comes from what I read here on your blog which is enough for me lol and I decided to read the latest 5 chapters just to see what's up (on zahard. I refuse to give the actual series any views)

And I just. Could not take the whole scene with Daphne running from Apollo seriously? The anatomy and art inconsistency was so distracting that i genuinely could not find it serious. Even when Thanatos discovers her hibernated body I couldn't take it seriously because of how she looked?

And when Hades had that call (??? Was it a call? Or his inner dialogue? I couldn't really tell ngl) with Zeus and said he's causing Persephone unnecessary distress, and that she didn't pose any threat. B!tch??? She killed a ton of mortals??? She has no control over her powers???? She's literally a fugitive for the aforementioned things??? She apparently woke Kronos up? (Idk if anyone knows about that, again my knowledge only spans to whatever I read here) Hello????

And I have a lot to say about the chapters starting the trial but I'll only mention one thing; Hades saying "I don't think blindly supporting my little brother would be doing him any favours (as a ruler)" had me cackling. This is coming from a guy blindly supporting a girl he's literally only known for a few weeks, who's like what, only recently turned 20? Sit tf down Hades you're not cool, you creepy ass overgrown smurf.

Overall I still hate this series lmao. Regarding art though I feel like I wouldn't be so miffed about the anatomy much if the character designs were consistent and the story was compelling. They literally change hairstyles and body types frame by frame, and it's distracting.

The timeline from what I read here is laughable. 4 years in publication with almost 200 chapters and you're telling me only like a month has passed canonically. That's wild and such poor writing.

And as someone who literally will sympathise with any lead character pretty quickly, the story makes me hate them. It makes me want to root against them. I also hate the fact this trash is somehow top ranked on webtoons when so many other stories are far better then it.

Anyway, many thanks to this blog for existing and allowing me to dump so much text here to vent out my hate for this series lmao. You the mvp fam, hope you're having a good day 🥂🥂🥂

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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obx-adventures · 4 years

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The Introverted Twin

Summary - Being John B’s bookish twin isn’t easy. Especially with my best friend, Pope, being weird about me getting closer with JJ.

Catch up here: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

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Chapter 4

I spend the next week isolating myself from the Pogues. John B, JJ, and Kie all try to get me to talk to them about what happened, but I stick to my decision to keep Pope’s declaration of love to myself. After a week of silence, John B and JJ have had enough.

“Alright, Y/N,” my twin says when he busts into my room. “No more sulking, let’s go out.”

“JB, go find Pope. Take him out, not me.”

“No can do, sis. I can’t let you hide in here for forever. You’ve already said you won’t tell us what happened, so we won’t push. But you are not staying in your room for another day.”

“Sunshine, come on,” JJ begs as he takes my hand to try to pull me off my bed. “We’re worried about you.”

“Kie is talking to Pope right now,” JB reassures me as he opens my blinds. “He finally answered her text this morning, so we decided to divide and conquer.”

“He did? Is he ok?”

“You don’t get any information until you meet us outside,” JJ answers stubbornly as they leave the house.

I sit on my bed a few minutes trying to weigh my options. My self-imposed punishment isn’t really helping anything and I do want to know how my best friend is doing. Reluctantly, I leave my room to meet the guys in the backyard.

“How is he?” I ask, trying to ignore the smug looks on their faces as I sit on the hammock next to JJ.

“Kie said that he seems sad but ok,” John B responds gently. “She tried to get him to talk to her about whatever happened between you two, but he won’t give her anything. She is going with him to make some deliveries today so she’s hoping to get more out of him.”

I look down at my hands in my lap and try to fight back tears. I can’t believe I’ve caused Pope so much pain. He has been such an important part of my life for so many years. Did I lead him on? Could I have done something to prevent this? Maybe relied on him less? I think back to how I told him that he makes me feel like I’m not alone and selfishly worry that I won’t have that anymore.

“How about the three of us go out on the Pogue today?” JJ suggests as he takes my hand gently. “You can get some sun while we fish. We’ll stay quiet if you want us to.”

I nod and go inside to get changed. The guys take over snack duty for the day and we are on our way within 15 minutes. Once we drop anchor, I strip down to my swimsuit and lay out in my usual spot at the front of the boat. I finally feel myself relax when the quiet is interrupted by the sound of John B’s phone.

“Whoa,” he exclaims. “Pope told you he’s in love with you?!”

I jolt up to look at my brother and see JJ’s shocked expression.

“Shit, JJ, pretend you didn’t hear that.” My brother sounds sheepish as he looks between us.

“Why?” JJ and I ask at the same time.

“Because Pope told Kie she could tell me, but he doesn’t want JJ to know,” John B explains. I can hear the question in his statement but decide to ignore it. JJ looks at me with his eyebrows contracted in confusion.

“Why would Pope not want me to know?” JJ asks me.

Instead of answering, I lay back down and squeeze my eyes shut behind my sunglasses. How the hell am I supposed to answer this question? I don’t think I can handle JJ brushing off Pope’s suggestion that something was going on between us as if the idea is ludicrous.

“What did you say to Pope?” John B asks when he realizes I’m not going to answer JJ’s question.

“What do you think I said, JB?” I reply sarcastically. “We haven’t spoken in a week, so it doesn’t seem likely that I confessed that I’m in love with him too, does it?”

“That’s not what I meant, smartass. I was asking how you handled it. It can’t have been easy.”

John B comes over to sit down next me. I sit up, take off my sunglasses, and look out over the water before I respond.

“I told him that he’s my best friend,” I confess. “I didn’t know how to respond. Did you know he felt that way?”

“I thought it was possible. But I never thought he would say anything. What triggered it?”

“He thinks something is going on with me and JJ,” I admit. He has to lean in closer to me to as I whisper this, and he raises his eyebrows at my response.

“Is there something going on between you and JJ?” he whispers back to me.

Just as I did with JJ a few minutes ago, I lay back down instead of answering. My brother looks at me for a few moments before going back over to his seat. The rest of our time on the water is uncharacteristically quiet, with all of us stuck in our own thoughts. After only 30 more minutes, John B decides to head back to the Chateau. As I’m walking to the house, I’m stopped by JJ grabbing my hand.

“Sunshine,” he says quietly when I don’t turn back to look at him. “Come on. Talk to me. Why doesn’t Pope want me to know?”

I take a deep breath to brace myself before I turn around to look at him. I can’t risk getting lost in his piercing blue eyes while we have this conversation, so I look down at our still joined hands.

“He thinks something is going on with us,” I whisper. When JJ doesn’t immediately respond, I lift my head to study his face.

“Do you want there to be something going on with us?” JJ’s cheeks are tinted pink and he looks at me with questioning eyes. I chew on my bottom lip as I look away from him. He moves closer to me and my heart rate speeds up. “Look at me, Sunshine.”

I can’t bring myself to make eye contact with him again, so I pull my hand from his and run into the house. John B is pacing around the living room when I enter, and he looks up to see me flustered and emotional.

“Look, Y/N,” he starts. “JJ is my best friend. I love him like a brother. But – ”

“JB, I can’t have this conversation with you,” I interject. I grab the van keys and run out of the house.

“Where are you going, Sunshine?” I don’t answer JJ as I get into the van and drive away.

I drive around for a while and somehow end up at Sarah’s house. She has been dating my brother for a while now but she and I aren’t very close so I’m not sure how I ended up at her doorstep. I knock on the door and am greeted by Wheezie. She calls Sarah for me and I can tell how surprised Sarah is when she sees that I’m her visitor.

“Y/N, is everything ok?”

I don’t think I can answer her without breaking down in the doorway. She sees the tears well up in my eyes and gently takes my hand to lead me to her room. Once she closes the door, she sits on her bed and gives me a few minutes to collect my thoughts as I pace in her room.

“Have you talked to my brother today?” I ask, trying to figure out if he has already told her everything that happened this morning.

“I called him maybe 20 minutes ago and he didn’t answer. But he texted me and said he was talking to JJ.”

“Shit! Fuck! Shit!” Sarah is visibly shocked by my outburst and comes over to me and pulls me into a tight hug.

“Y/N, I know that you and I aren’t really friends yet, but you can talk to me.” I pull back from the hug and dry the tears I didn’t realize had already fallen down my cheeks.

“Ok, ok, ok…” I say as I try to organize my thoughts. “Last week, Pope told me that he was in love with me. But I don’t feel the same way. Also, I’m maybe in love with JJ. And sometimes I think that JJ may have feelings for me too. But then I remember that I’m definitely not his type and he’s JB’s best friend. And it would kill Pope if he knew how I felt about JJ. But it’s all kind of exploding right now and I have no idea what to do.”

I deflate once I get this all off my chest. I fall onto the bed next to Sarah and start sobbing with my head in my hands. She wraps an arm around me and brings my head toward her shoulder.

“Shhh, it’s ok. We’ll figure this all out.”

Once I calm down, I lift my head off her shoulder and shake my hands out. I’m a little embarrassed that I just had a breakdown in front of my brother’s girlfriend but there isn’t anything I can do about that now.

“I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. You are the newest person in our group, and I think I’m here because you may be the most objective person that I can talk to about all this.”

“No, don’t apologize,” she responds kindly. “Let’s talk this out. So you think you may be in love with JJ?”

“I don’t know… maybe… yes. But he’s JJ. He can get any girl he wants, I don’t think he wants me.”

“I think you’re wrong, I saw how he looked at you the other day when we were on the boat. And he planned a trip to the planetarium for you. I don’t think he would do that if he didn’t care.”

“I know he cares, but I think it’s just because I’m his best friend’s sister. Wait, how was he looking at me on the boat?”

“Like you were the only person there,” Sarah says with a smile. “You aren’t just John B’s sister to him. Like you said, I’m brand new to the group and even I can see that you’re special to him.”

I feel heat rise to my cheeks at the idea that I’m special to JJ. But then I remember what John B tried to tell me before I left.

“John B would never be ok with it, Sarah,” I say dejectedly. “And even if he was, what about Pope?”

“Look,” Sarah stands and starts speaking animatedly in front of me. “It’s not like anyone wanted me and your brother to be together, right? Kiara was so pissed at him and Rafe didn’t talk to me for a month. But none of it matters. If you love someone, you need to just say ‘Fuck it’ and be happy. The people who really love you will come around.”

I think about what she said for a few minutes and I can’t deny that she’s right. John B basically told all of us to get over it. And while it wasn’t easy, we did. Could that happen for me and JJ?

“But the real questions, Y/N,” Sarah says, pulling me from my thoughts, “are how does JJ feel about you and do you want to be together.”

I stand up, pull Sarah into a tight hug, and give her a kiss on the cheek. I thank her and run back out of the house to the van. I need to find JJ and finish the conversation he tried to start earlier.

Ch 5

Taglist: @agirlwholovescoffee @obxlife @meaganjm @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @velyssaraptor @lunaposey

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sebbytrash · 4 years

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Through His Eyes - Part Eighteen

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Bucky x Reader

Warnings - Angst, denial, self loating, all the sad stuff guys. Also, weird breakfast habits courtesy of one Clint Barton

A/N - Hi, it’s me, trying not to act on the need to reintroduce myself here lol. Anyways, sorry its been forever, again. I fix? Feedback loved and appreciated. <3 HUGE thank you to my other half @manawhaat for taking my scraps and forcing me to do better. I love you.

Through His Eyes Masterlist

"Auntie Mallow, what happened to your face?" Nate asks as soon as he spies you from his place at the kitchen table, running over to tackle hug you. "Were you attacked? Was it by Ninjas? Did you kick butt?"

"Woah, woah, one question at a time, little man," you say, and then pretend whisper, "Twelve of them, butts all kicked."

"Cool!" He shouts, disappearing into the house with a few karate chops.

"Yeah, he's going through a Ninja phase at the moment. He's gonna be dining out on that story for a week." Laura explains, a cup of cocoa already in your hand and hers giving your bruise a once over, a fond smile at the edge of her lips.

"Training accident with Steve. Nothing exciting." She hugs you anyway, warm and kind and everything you need. Laura and her magical hugs, they always soften the edges of even the sharpest of pains. It's why Sam so often referred to her as Mother of All, because she just made you feel seen, loved.

"I'll be upstairs putting the monsters to bed. Shout if you need me." She gives Clint a kiss on the cheek on her way past and his eyes linger on her a little longer as she leaves. Your spine aches from the way he looks at her, a lifetime of love poured in a single glance.

He turns back to you, looks at you in an entirely different kinda way but it doesn't make you ache any less, you wonder if your story is leaking out of your eyes like a kaleidoscope of words and feelings, projected for any and all to see. Laid bare in look alone. He looks at you long enough for you to regret coming, not wanting to deal with any of the mess you'd created just yet, but he surprises you by instead asking, "You hungry?"

He makes you a burger that you readily inhale and then realise just how long it had been since you'd eaten. Clint asks nothing, expects nothing, simply fills your belly and earns a few shaky laughs before ushering you to the barn where a warm bed was waiting.

"This place looks a lot nicer than the last time I stayed here." You smile at the memory and he rolls his eyes back.

"Well, we had some time to convert it to a guesthouse. Not like the last time you and Sam showed up, drank the entire contents of my booze cabinet and passed out in the field." He hugs you again and backs up towards the door, "You're lucky I dragged your asses in here instead of letting you wake up a few fingers short."

“My fingers are grateful.” You laugh, and wiggle them a little, then add, “My back, not so much.”

“Goodnight, marshmallow.”

“Goodnight Clint.”

You wait till he leaves before letting the smile slide right off your face, exhaustion tugging on your bones with weary determination that you're almost grateful for. It means, if nothing else, that sleep might come easy and the pain might subside even for a few hours. You change into the clothes Clint loaned you, sweats and an old S.H.I.E.L.D t-shirt, and dump your stuff on the chair. You fish your phone out of your pocket to send Sam a quick text but realise the battery is dead. Well, if you weren't in trouble before, you sure are now. Tomorrow's problem, you suppose, before sliding into the lavender fresh bed and curling up on your side. Counting your blinks and willing the day to end, desperately trying not to notice how much you miss his scent on your sheets.

When sleep finds you, it comes armed with weapons of anguish laden eyes or the defeated sigh of your name, and your heart tears itself in two when the sighs turn silent. It's a punishment, you think, when you wake that morning no longer sure if you can stand to lose him from your dreams, too. You’ve lost most of the skin around your thumb nail by the time you work up the energy to go to the house, the blood that leaks out of the worried away skin is like a physical representation of your heart. You hate it.

You don’t.

The kitchen is unusually silent when you enter and you wonder how long you spent avoiding leaving your bed when you spot Clint at the counter, eating happily, but horribly, from his bowl. He smiles and tips his spoon, then tips it towards the empty bowl and cereal packets waiting on the counter for you. A cereal buffet.

“Mornin’,” you say, pouring out the sugariest one you can find, “Is that...is that all the cereals in one bowl?”

“Yup,” he grins, “Laura and the kids are away to swim in the lake, so I get to do this.” He scoops a mishmash onto his spoon and has the indecency to enjoy it. Disgusting.

“That is… honestly, I don’t even have words.” You do everything you can not to stare at the grey looking milk that is swirling around in his house of horrors of a bowl.

He fills in the silence with some nonsense, a little laughter and a tale or two about the kids, letting you shake off the sleep, and the dreams, and finish your cereal before he pops the bubble. You love him for it, and hate him for it. A theme, it seems.

“So…” He begins, eyebrows raised in a little ‘tell me’ motion.

“So,” you say, and nothing more.

“Steve called.” That didn’t take long.

“Of course he did.”

“He was worried.” He says, and then adds, not unkindly, “Sam was, too. Apparently, you left without any heads up.”

You huff, “Well, I’m grown. I do what I want.” You throw in a pout for good measure.

“And that means you couldn’t reply to a text?”

You tuck your shoulders at that. “I, uh, didn’t exactly bring a charger.” You hold out the offending item and he sighs, but says nothing, simply takes your phone from you and plugs it into a waiting wire beside him.

“Right.” He waits, knowing your little pout is for show, until the scowl slips into something else. “You wanna tell me about him.”

And so you do, how much you hated him, and then how much you wanted to hate him, and then how much you didn’t hate him at all.

He lets you pour it all out, lets you drain every last drop of guilt and whisper every unchecked secret, the words burst from within that pressure cooker inside your chest. It hurts so much to bare yourself like this that you expect to look down and see blood seeping from a hole in your chest. Instead, you see only granite countertops and blurry hands.

"So, I ended it." You say, flattening your hands on your knees so you don't have to see them shake, see the physical manifestation of your very bad decision making. "It's for the best."

"Is it?" Clint asks plainly. "For him, or for you?"

"What do you mean?" You frown, his words making the hairs on your arms stand up, your body one step ahead as your mind fights to catch up.

"Ok kid, I'm gonna level with you, yeah?" He fixes you with a look that feels very Dad-Like and you bite back a little smile, despite the heavy tone. "I don't think it's a coincidence that you came here, to me, the only other person who might have the slightest inkling what it might feel like being under someone else's control."

"I…," You begin, and then snap your mouth closed as the words settle over you. Was he right? Was it intentional, you wonder, to seek out Clint? No, no...

"You just live the furthest away." You scoff, but not with much luster, doubt creeping in over that wallowing fog.

"You're not running away, kid." He says, confidently, "You're looking for answers."

You consider that for a moment, wonder if there was some remaining strand of hope left in the burnt out tapestry of your want, but you know that even that strand is not enough.

"There are no answers you can give that will fix this." You say sadly, resolutely.

"Why don't you try me?" He offers, reaching out to stop your hands from worrying away the skin around your nails again. Something you hadn't even noticed you were doing.

"I don't think I have any questions?" Even to your own ears, you don’t sound sure. He simply looks at you a little longer, waiting. “Fine, maybe...maybe, just one.” He nods for you to continue. “How did you face Nat, you know, after Loki?”

“After I tried to kill her, you mean?” He supplies helpfully, face graced with that confident little smirk that never really leaves, refusing to balk at it like any sane person should.

“Well...yeah.” You admit, trying not to cringe at your cavalier questioning. This was his idea, after all.

“I didn’t.” He says, “Not at first anyway, but you know Nat, stubborn as hell and she just outright refused to let me have a pity party.” He laughs, “Monsters and magic, she said to me, we weren’t trained for that. And she was right, nobody is prepared for what we went through, or what he went through.”

It’s true, there’s nothing in the world that can prepare you for something like that, so how can anyone expect a how-to guide on getting over it. Or at least, working through it. You doubt there is a therapist in the world that has much insight on these particular demons, god knows they had enough trouble with yours.

You think about Clint now, about how very much a team he and Nat are, even within the team itself. It’s like it never happened.

“But don’t you think about it, that day, when you see her?” You ask, subconsciously zeroing in on what you really want to know. There’s something there, you know it, but you're not sure what it is yet.

“No, not anymore. Maybe initially, but I did the work. Laura helped me work through it, so did Nat.” He looks at you intently, like he just figured something out, frowns a little and tilts his head. “Do you?”

“Do I what?” You ask, watching his puppy dog tilt with confusion.

“Do you think about that when you see him?” Oh. Oh, that.

“No.” You answer honestly, “Not for a while.” It’s the truth. The soldier and Bucky feel so far apart from each other it’s like they’ve never even met. And they haven’t really, you think. One existed exactly over the top of the other.

“So seeing him, being with him, it doesn’t take you back to that time?” He asks, and it feels like he’s getting at something or putting puzzle pieces together the way he words the question, but it’s inherently still the same one he asked.

“No... I mean, it did, of course it did, for a long time. But, like you, I did the work.”

It doesn’t even occur to you what Clint is getting at, as you sit there sifting through what he said and how it overlaps with what you know. So when he asks, your heart suspends in place, simply stopping in between beats like there was a limit and you’ve simply reached it.

“Then tell me, why are you so sure he does?”

“He still has nightmares about me, Clint.” You point out, the fear in his eyes still fresh in your mind, like a brand on your soul you’ll never be rid of. Another stain, another scar. The final matching one.

“He has one bad dream in the what, months, you’ve been together and you think you know what he needs?” You blink stupidly at him, feeling the pit in your stomach extend just a few more inches, digging itself further into your soul. “Look, kid, if you had come here and told me you didn’t feel a certain way about him, I’d be behind you 100%. But you’re denying yourself something here. Is it complicated? Fuck yes. Look at your life, what part isn’t?”

Complicated, ha! The blood in your vein sings angrily at the notion, that you weren’t over here tearing yourself in two just to protect Bucky from himself, from you. That it wasn’t bigger than complicated. Your feelings, whatever they were, they didn’t matter. What was so difficult to understand in that? It’s exactly the reason you were here and not with Sam, although that decision is becoming stupider by the moment.

You start to shake your head, ready to say much of the same to Clint when he holds up a hand, not in surrender but to continue.

“You asked what I see when I look at Nat, now. Well, I see movie nights, and Sal’s pizza, and pissing off Tony and every other memory we’ve made together since then. Isn’t that what you see when you look at Bucky?”

Like a prayer, his name conjures his image in your mind, those smiling ocean eyes, the kind tilt to his smile, the shape of his mouth when he says your name. Not even the ghost of the Soldier hovers. You blink back the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes and answer honestly. “Yes…”

“I’m willing to bet that’s what he sees too.” He smiles at you, sad and sorry. “I remember just after I got back from New York, I had this whole thing about everything being my choice. You know, what missions I went on, when I went on them, what I had to eat - Laura was a saint with that one. There’s just something about it, not being in control of yourself, that unsettles your whole being, right, that every choice I made felt like I was taking something back from Loki. Like I was fighting back even though there was nothing to fight against.”

You reach out and squeeze his hand, his words dropping like stones in your chest, each one adding to that growing feeling, that one you can’t or won’t name.

“So, if this is about him, about protecting him or whatever it is you think you are doing...don’t. Don’t take that choice from him.”

The stones turn to boulders, drag down in your gut and pull till you might tear at the seams, pull and pull till your nerves are screaming with all that guilt, again, that you carry around and the unending pain that follows it. You knew what it was like, you knew, and yet Clint was right, you’d stolen his choices just like they had, when all he’d ever done was give you them.

“Just answer this, okay?”

You nod, but you already know what he’s going to ask and you can’t answer him, don’t know how to. Your whole being is centered around this part of you, this shadowed pain that makes up half of your personality. Who were you if not the half broken remains from behind the green door? How can you possibly move past it enough to...feel that way?

“Do you love him?”

No, you don’t love. You can’t. You like him? Sure. You want him? Absolutely. But love? Unattainable. The ghost of him is there again, sudden and solid, looking at you the way he does, grazing his lips along your cheek that way he does, the gentlest of hands holding you that way he does, loving you that way he does.

Because he does. He loves you and it's awful and terrifying and euphoric. Suddenly, you can’t stand another minute of this war with yourself, with him, with everyone. The fight was always pointless anyway, you’d lost long ago on the dirty floor of a gym where secrets sprouted from pain and bloomed into hope. The boulders grow wings and they lift, letting your chest fill up with that fear and euphoria, shaking off the shackles of your guilt for the last time. You have your choices, so he should have his, right?

There they are, those damned butterflies. “Yes.”

Clint smiles, knew the answer the second he laid eyes on your weary face yesterday. “Then let him love you back.”

TAGS: @manawhaat @theashhole @captainrogerss @higherfurtherfasterbby @peculiar-persephone @captain-rogers-beard @chrisevansnco @howlingbarnes @poealsobucky @samingtonwilson @vintagevalentinexx @abovethesmokestacks @imhereforbvcky @avengerofyourheart @stormy-thomas @danijimenezv @angelicthor @betheboo55 @palaiasaurus64 @raxacoricofallapatoriuspotter @johnmurphys-sass @katbird787 @sexyvixen7 @jobean12-blog @justreadingfics @justareader @smoothdogsgirl @theliarone @aikibriarrose @timeladylaurel @badassbakers @earinafae @crushed-pink-petals-writes @tardis-is-mine @httpmcrvel @bucky2-0 @mocking-rain @sociallyimpairedme @jezzula @bless-my-demons @ign-is @indominusregina @-supernatural-coffee-llama @alwayshave-faith @shifutheshihtzu @mizzzpink @yknott81 @haven-in-writing @xtina2191 @reniescarlett @notsoprettykitty @wickedwerewolf @ayeputita @tatalopes23 @pineapplebooboo @mizzezm @thefridgeismybestie @memory-of-a-goldfish @supernatural-girl97 @standing-onthe-edge @ruinerofcheese @mysweetcookie99

#through his eyes #kale writes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel fanfic

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captain-jensen · 4 years

Text

Everything Else is Extra

Chris Evans x childless!reader

Summary: You and Chris have been friends for a long time. One night you both confess your feelings for each other, however there’s a couple things that could get in the way. Age and life goals, what will be the outcome?

Warnings: Angst, childless reader (if you do want children then this probably isn’t for you), age gap.

Author’s note: WOW has it been a long time since I’ve written anything so I am so sorry if this is shit. I’ve been going through it lately so I just wanted to escape and write a story I’ve been wanting to for a while. I have loved every fic I’ve read but I haven’t found any fics where the reader has this mindset and I know I can’t be the only one who has these feelings as well. So I hope you like this if you have the same opinion! Sorry it’s pretty long but I just wanted to make sure everything was explained properly. The dialogue is also pretty cheesy but it’s angst sooo whatever.

It was like any other movie night for yourself and Chris. Sitting on the couch (maybe a bit too close together), watching ‘The Little Mermaid’, and eating and drinking the night away. This is a regular occurrence, and has been for the past 4 years of yours and Chris’ friendship. After drunkenly singing a long to every song in the movie you two sit in silence browsing for another Disney classic to watch. “So... karaoke?” Chris suddenly asks, breaking the silence.

“That sounds like a damn good plan Evans! Hook it up!” you exclaim loudly, always loving a good karaoke session while drunk. You guys browse the songs for a couple of minutes before deciding to do a duet of ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’. Singing passionately and loudly you and Chris get lost in the music dancing together and laughing. By the end of the song your eyes are locked into each others. You feel your feet carry you towards him slowly as he does the same. The microphones of the machine are long forgotten as you gaze at him, and him at you. You can’t even remember the first time you thought about doing this, thought about just staring at him for a while as you fall more and more in love with him. It’s been 4 years of longing for you, pining, never ever thinking about the idea that he might just be doing the same. Oh but he was, all these years Chris had been quietly admiring you, watching you go through shitty breakup after shitty breakup. But he never even hinted at the fact that he wanted to be with you since you were 12 years younger than him. It pained him, having to watch love treat you poorly. He wanted more than anything to change that for you, but what would people think? He wasn’t exactly lining up to be the next Leonardo DiCaprio, only dating women much younger than himself. At the same time however, he couldn’t help it. He was drawn to you, everything about you. You’re strong, independent, happy, funny, and the most caring person he had ever met. You were but a forbidden fruit to him though, never able to get close enough to taste. Or so he thought.

Both of you broke out of your thoughts that were moving a mile a minute, now incredibly close. So close you can smell the beer on his breath the he the wine on yours. Without another thought you moved in at the same time as him and your lips met in the middle. A soft but passionate kiss, nothing hungry or starved, just sweet, tender, and full of love. You’re the one to break the kiss, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt and embarrassment. Your face feels hot as you turn away from him to quickly grab your jacket to leave.

“Wait where are you going?” He asks, still slightly out of breath.

“That shouldn’t have happened, I’m so sorry Chris” you try to explain with a shaky voice.

“I think it should have. Y/N, I’ve been wanting to that for so long now”

“No, you’re just drunk. You get emotional when you’re drunk” You try to reason with yourself more so than with him.

“That’s not true. Can we at least talk about it?” He grabs your elbow, trying with all his might to anchor you to him.

“No. not tonight at least. I’m leaving.” And with that you walk out of his living room and out the front door. Not worrying about a cab until you’ve calmed yourself down. You absorb everything. The softness of his lips, the warmth of his hands as he cupped your face, his smell, and lastly his words. Had he actually meant what he said? Or was he just being drunkenly over dramatic and slightly horny? Clearing your head you call for a cab to take you home and hopefully sleep off this confusing feeling you had, and the misplaced hope that the kiss brought you.

Laying in your bed finally, you check your phone and see no text from Chris. Which stands out because he normally checks in with you to make sure you made it home alright. Although, given the circumstance, you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to talk to you. You embarrassed yourself by kissing him but you embarrassed yourself even more by running away like a schoolgirl after. You couldn’t help it though. You couldn’t build yourself up enough to kiss him again because you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop, and you knew that even if you both enjoyed it, it would have spelt heartbreak at the end. Having known Chris for a few years, you knew what he wanted in life. He’s talked about it in interviews and to you personally. He wanted a family. He wanted to get marry to a pretty woman who is good at cooking and wants children. That just isn’t you, getting married sure, but being a mother was something you always knew you didn’t want. You could just never bring yourself to give up so much of your own life and own identity to be a parent. You don’t despise motherhood or demean women who want that life, it just isn’t made for you. This was always one of the main reasons you never told Chris how you felt. You know that even if you were to pursue a relationship it could never last forever solely because of your different goals and values. Although you made peace with this fact early on in your friendship, you start to feel that emotional dam breaking and all those feelings of longing and pain flooding back. But you push them aside and decide to sleep, letting the sober you deal with these problems tomorrow.

Waking late into the morning the next day you feel your head pound lightly with the aftermath of the wine and crying. Not wanting to deal with the day and whatever came with it you decide to have a leisurely hangover day consisting of greasy food, ice cream, and romance movies to mend what you assumed to be a broken and flustered heart.

About 3 hours into your drowsy hibernation and only at about 30% functionality you hear a knock at the door. Assuming its the Chinese food you ordered, you hop off the couch and run towards the door ready to put yourself into a food coma. When you open the door you instead find a tall handsome blue eyed best friend. “Chris, hi.”

“Why haven’t you called me back?” was the first thing he said

“I turned my phone off for a mental health day” you explained simply.

“Ok well I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day. I want to talk about this with you” he said, almost desperately as he pushed by you lightly making his way into your apartment.

“Chris last night was an accident on both of our parts. So let’s just forget that it happened and move on with our lives ok?”

“No I can’t just forget about it Y/N! That was a special moment for both of us, I know it. I don’t know what you’re so afraid of though. That’s what we need to talk about”

“I’m afraid of reality Chris! Ok? I’m afraid of the way our relationship would turn out. Because I know for a fact that it would end with one of us getting hurt”

“How do you know that?”

“Chris let’s just hypothesize for a minute alright? Let’s say you and I get together, it’s going great, our families are happy for us, we’re happy, everything is grand right? So one day, you decide that you want to marry me. You ask me and I say yes of course. So one night as we sit on the couch, daydreaming about our wedding and future together you say something a long the lines of ‘I can’t wait to start our own little family’. And then you wonder why I look taken a back, and then I say ‘Chris, I don’t want kids’. Then we sit in silence but you eventually say that it’s ok and that we don’t need kids to be happy or to be a family. So we go on with our lives and the wedding. But then a couple more years down the line in our marriage you start to resent me because you’re getting older but don’t have any children. Then we divorce because we both just start to hate each other for what the other one made us do or feel. That is what would happen Chris, believe me, I’ve thought about it for years” You explain your point of view strongly. Dumping every thought you’ve had for the past 4 years out. Chris stands there, dumbfounded. He takes a few deep breaths, fully absorbing everything you said.

“You’re right” Is all he says quietly, barely audible.

“What?” you ask, wanting him to clarify and confirm that he understood what you had said

“You’re right. I did want kids. I used to want to get married and take care of a wife and children. But that was before I knew how I felt about you. Before I realized that all I wanted was you. I know you don’t want kids, and I’m fine with that. I really am, because as long as I’m with you, I won’t need anything else in life. I know you probably don’t believe me but I still want to prove it to you. I need you to know that you make me happy all on your own. You don’t need to push out a baby for me to love you because” and he takes a short pause and a deep breath “Because I love you already, and whether or not you have my babies won’t change that. You are already an amazing woman and not being a mother won’t take away any of your value. So please, tell me you want this as much as I do”

Now it’s your turn to be at a loss of words. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your heart starts to drum in your ears and your tummy heats up and flips with a mixture of happiness and confusion. Your legs feel weak and your hands are shaky. With a baited breath you slowly move forward to him. Still cautious you grab his hand and without hesitation he grabs back, relaxing only slightly. You look up into his eyes to search for any sign of hesitance. When you don’t find any you lean forwards and go on your tiptoes to press a light kiss on his lips. He kisses back with fervor, determined to let you know how he feels. “You’re sure you won’t hate me in the future?”

“How could I hate you? You’re the woman I love with everything I am”

You continue like this for a while. Embracing each other and reassuring each other that your love is what matters most. Everything else is just extra.

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x reader #chris evans oneshot

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

Text

Just A Friend

Hope you are all having a good weekend. I’m the only one awake, the sun is shining and I’m enjoying my coffee in peace and quiet. Bliss!

Thank you for the continuing support for this story. it’s lovely reading (and re-reading) all the comments.

Hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta.

AO3

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3: From Relationship To Release

You know, I’m a great believer in relationships. Relationships come in all shapes and sizes — take my relationship with Geillis, for example.

I met Geillis on my first day of postgraduate training at Glasgow Royal Infirmary. I was spending three months in orthopaedic surgery and she was just finishing her training as a theatre nurse. We somehow kept bumping into each other at social gatherings and found we had many things in common — a childish sense of humour, an intolerance of pomposity and snobbishness, and a love of cheesy rom-com movies.

From there, our friendship snowballed, and for many years now, I’ve called her my best friend. Even the arrival of a fiancé and her forthcoming nuptials haven’t lessened our relationship in any way. Our careers have developed in parallel too. So when a vacancy came up for a senior theatre sister at the Children’s hospital, I didn’t hesitate to recommend her for the post. We work well together. For all her joking around and flippant comments she is damn good at her job. And I love her.

I don’t think I love many people. I’m very fond of a lot of people, mainly my friends. But love? No. And certainly not the romantic, live-our-life-together type of love.

I see how it can work. I look at Robbie’s parents, for example. The way they are there for each other, supporting through all the worries with their son, their comforting touches and reassuring glances.They are a solid unit and I admire that.

I also see the way that Geillis’ face lights up when she talks about her fiancé, Dougal, and the way he watches her when we are all together in the pub. And I think it’s great, I really do.

But it’s not something that I’m seeking out for myself. I don’t think I’m cut out for that type of relationship. I don’t think there is someone out there, my soulmate, to spend the rest of my life with. And I definitely don’t think that I need someone else to complete me, make me whole.

That doesn’t mean that I’m a hermit. Far from it, in fact. I do date and enjoy it, but try to steer clear of any where-is-this-relationship-going type discussions.

It may well be to do with my childhood. I’ll admit, I’ve not had the most normal upbringing and that could have coloured my view of happily-ever-after love.

I’ve never been part of a conventional family unit. Well, I mean, I was for the first four years of my life —until my parents died in a car accident. And, at that age, how much can you remember? I do have some vague memories — rough tweed fabric against my cheek as my father’s strong arms lift me up, the smell of ‘Miss Dior’ perfume as my mother’s soft hands caress my cheek, the sound of laughter as we dance around the living room to Michael Jackson. But these are only fleeting recollections, ephemeral, gone in an instant.

All my real childhood memories are centred around one man — my uncle, Lambert Beauchamp. He, unhesitatingly, took me in when my parents died and became my guardian, my parent, my rock. He and I were a team, and I miss him every single day.

He was a confirmed bachelor, and I don’t mean that in a euphemistic way. He lived his life by his own rules and if he had been gay, he would have seen no reason to hide it. No, he had no need for romantic entanglements, no complicated relationships, no messy sexual encounters. He had two loves in his life — me and his work. He was a professor at the University, teaching archaeology and could, quite happily, get lost for hours in the bowels of the archives, studying ancient Somarian drinking vessels.

Growing up he was my role model, my yardstick against which to measure boys.

And over time, I've come to realise that I've always found myself attracted to the type of men which have certain ‘Lambert-esque’ qualities. Which leads me, I suppose, to Frank.

Just like my uncle, he’s a professor at the university. In history — more recent than Lamb’s studies only three hundred years ago, not three thousand. He’s single minded about his research, like my uncle, and he cares deeply about me, which makes me feel bad because I don’t feel the same way. Of course, I care about him, just not enough for a serious relationship that’s going somewhere.

All of this is a long winded way of saying what I’ve actually known for a while now... I need to break up with Frank.

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

I’m just contemplating whether to brave the canteen or grab a sandwich from the hospital shop, when there’s a knock at my office door and a hand appears brandishing a couple of distinctive Gregg’s paper bags. This hand is closely followed by the rest of Geillis, who plonks herself down on one of my visitor chairs. A wonderful aroma of freshly baked goods wafts across the desk. My stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“Steak bake or sausage roll?” she asks as she places both bags on my desk, although she knows my preference.

“Ooh, how did you know I was just thinking about lunch?” I pick up one of the bags, the oozing gravy on its surface being a clear giveaway.

“We’ve been friends fer long enough,” Geillis smiles. “I ken what ye’re thinking. In fact, ye’ve something on yer mind right now. No’ a work thing. C’mon, spill.”

I swear, it’s uncanny. In the Middle Ages Geillis would undoubtedly have been tried as a witch. Her powers of deduction are that good.

I say nothing for a moment and focus on my lunch, blowing ineffectually on the hot meat filling.

“Weel? I’m waiting and ye ken I’m no’ a patient woman, Claire. This is tae do wi’ Frank, is it no’? Are ye planning on dumping him?”

See what I mean? Witchcraft.

“You make it sound so harsh. But I can’t carry on with Frank, he’s investing more into this… this—“

“Ye can say the word, Claire. Relationship… R… E…—“

“I know, I know. But I have to do something. I know Frank wants more than I want to give in this ‘relationship’.” I enunciate clearly just to make the point to Geillis. I’m not afraid of the word… I can say it.

“Anyway,” I add casually as I dab at the pastry crumbs with my finger. “I thought you’d be pleased. I know you’ve never liked him.”

Geillis tuts. “‘Tis no’ a matter of like. We jes’ havena got anything in common. He’s awfa serious and ye dampen yer personality down when ye’re with him. I’ve seen ye, ye canna deny it.”

I try to interject, but Geillis ignores my sounds of protest and carries on talking. “But it’s no’ jes’ Frank. Ye do this all the time, Claire. Whenever anyone tries tae get serious, ye run. What is wrong wi’ wanting a relationship anyway?”

“I have my work, I have my friends. I date, I go out with men, I have a good, if sporadic, sex life… and a trusty dual speed vibrator. What’s wrong with me wanting my life the way I want it?”

Geillis crams the end of her sausage roll into her mouth and chews vigorously for a minute. I pass her a paper serviette for her greasy hands. She gathers up the flaky pastry crumbs that have settled on her chest, wraps them in the serviette and pops it neatly in the bin.

“Ok, I get it. I’ll back off. But all I’m saying is dinna close yerself off tae the possibility of a real relationship, aye?”

Knowing she's gone as far as she can with this topic, she gets up and heads for the door. “Nae rest fer the wicked. Oh, and Claire, jes’ one thing…”

She pauses dramatically. “Dinna forget… ye’ve gravy on yer chin.”

And with that she disappears, leaving me with a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach caused by more than the calorie ridden pasty.

I am just settling down to dictate some patient letters when Frank texts to suggest dinner at my favourite Italian restaurant. This isn’t good. It’s a lovely restaurant, the kind of restaurant where special occasions are celebrated— birthdays, anniversaries, declarations…

So I have to lie… no, not lie, fib. I text back pleading a heavy day in theatre — aching feet, headache and so on.

His concerned response makes me feel bad. No need for fibbing, I do feel pretty shitty now. However, it also makes me more resolved to do what I have to do. I can’t drag this out, causing him more and more hurt. So, I invite him to my flat this evening instead.

*******

I have a final glance in the mirror in my bedroom. I do actually look a bit worn out. I haven’t really put any makeup on, just a touch of mascara and a slick of lipstick, which I have already managed to chew off.

My hair is, as per usual, a bit wild and untamed. I have a bathroom shelf full of products promising smooth and manageable curls, but have yet to find one that actually delivers on their promises. I tuck my hair behind my ears, pinch my cheeks to try to look a little less pale and head to the front door.

Frank is as punctual as ever. Unlike other things in my life, he’s always delivering on his promises. Which makes me feel even worse. I have nothing to accuse him of, no unacceptable behaviour— apart from wanting more than I’m prepared to give. That old cliché, “it’s not you, it’s me”, really is appropriate here. I’m going to try not to actually say those words though. He deserves more than that.

And so I take a deep breath and open the door. He stands there expectantly with two bottles of wine, one red and one white, in his hands.

“I wasn’t sure what we would be eating, so I got both just in case,” he volunteers as he walks in and leans close to me for a kiss.

I give him my cheek and make a fuss of taking the bottles from him to deflect my lack of affection.

He follows me into the lounge. I’m sure he notices that I make no offer to pour the wine. I set the wine on the coffee table and perch on the end of the settee.

Frank takes my hands. “Claire, darling, are you ok? Has it been a rough day?”

I shake my head. “It’s not been the best. Frank… I…”

I can’t even look at him now. I take a deep breath and plunge in. “Frank, I… the thing is… I don’t know how… I think we should stop seeing each other.” The words tumble out of my mouth like a deluge.

I finally look up as Frank releases my hands and walks over to the window. He stands still, his back to me, as if just taking in the view. Then he turns to face me, staring intently at me, scrutinising my face as if looking for a glimmer of hope. The silence is unbearable.

“Frank, it’s not you—“ I try to fill the void, by resorting to stale old clichés after all.

“Spare me that platitude.” He snaps at me. “We’re not fifteen. This was… is… serious to me, Claire.”

Frank now moves to sit next to me. His hand rests on my thigh, his fingers lightly drawing circles on my jeans. I watch for a moment. Am I supposed to move it? Should I remind him he no longer can touch me like this?

His voice softens. “I lo—“

“No, please, Frank. Don’t say it. Please don’t. You are such a nice man. You don’t deserve this.” Gently, I lift his hand and place it on his leg.

“Then don’t do it. Tell me, Claire, what do I have to do? What changes do I have to make for us to move forward? I’ll do it, tell me. We can make this work, I know.”

What do I say now? Anything I say will only hurt him more. All I can do is apologise and try to explain.

“I am sorry, really. It’s just, well, you want more than I can give. You think about a future—“

“And what’s wrong with that? That’s what most people want, Claire. Planning for a future together— a home, a family… our family.” Frank’s getting angry now, raising his voice.

“Please, I’m trying to explain. You want a future life together and I can’t give you that. I’m sorry that I’m hurting you.”

“Is there someone else? Is that what this is all about?”

I’ve been trying to remain composed, to give Frank the explanation he deserves. But this question annoys me beyond belief, as if I have to be one half of a couple.

“I can’t believe you asked that. No, it’s not about another man. I can’t be what you want me to be and that’s it.”

He stands up now, right in front of me. His hands are down by his sides, so tightly clenched into fists that his knuckles are white against the slight tan of his skin. For a fleeting nanosecond, I wonder if he is going to hit me. But, of course not, he’s just trying to gain control of himself.

“That’s it, then.” The words are spat out with venom.

“You know I’m sorry.”

He shrugs dismissively. “Of course. Well, goodbye.”

He makes for the door.

“What about the wine?” I indicate the two bottles, still on the table. It’s a pointless trivial comment, I know, but for some reason I don’t want him to think I expect to keep them.

Frank doesn’t even look over his shoulder. “Consider them a parting gift.”

And with that, he's gone.

I remain sitting motionless, processing what I’ve just done. It’s not easy hearing those words, but neither is it easy to have to say them. So many emotions are coursing through my body — sorrow, guilt, regret, self-reproach, worry. And in the midst of this maelstrom, there is one thing I can clearly recognise — a glimmering spark of relief.

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fan fic #Just a Friend #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #bit more Geillis #Chapter 3

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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 4 years

Text

Platonithon Day 1: Polaroid | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 3913

A/N: Happy Platonithon! I promise not all fics will be this long and I won’t only be writing for CM. That being said, I 100% wrote this fic because I wanted to express my feelings about Spencer’s sweater vest in 7x01 and I was also intrigued by Angry!Spencer in 7x02.

Warnings: angst (although this fic is mostly fluff)

“Hey (y/n), it’s me, Spencer. I’m being coerced to go out for drinks with the team. If you get out of class and want to join us, it would make Garcia’s day. It would, uh, make my day too. Things were kind of rough this week, I missed you. Stay safe, love you.”

You were able to listen to the message once your last student left the classroom, relieved to hear Spencer’s voice after it’s absence for four days. You put on your sweater and drove to the bar the team frequented, crossing the busy room to the table they were all sitting at. Garcia’s face lit up when she saw you.

“Hey Garcia. Hi everyone,” you sat down next to Penelope, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“(y/n), you beautiful, sweater-clad, angel of normalcy,” Garcia bubbled, leaning into your embrace.

“I think you’re the only group of people I can be compared to and called normal,” your quip was met with dulled laughter, cluing you in that Spencer had understated the weight of the week in his voicemail, “where’s Spencer?”

“Morgan’s helping him ‘talk to girls’,” Emily smirked, gesturing over to where the two men were standing. You rolled your eyes, “ugh, doesn’t Derek know Spence is insufferable when he talks to girls?”

“And here I thought (y/n) was the only one who didn’t find Reid annoying every now and then. How long have you lived together?”

“Long enough to know that I hate his stupid puppy-dog eyes that he gets whenever he’s talking to a new girl. It’s disgusting. I love him enough that I’m not about to move out, but I shouldn’t have to suffer because he’s irresistible. Hey, I have some extra tomato plants at the lab, would any of you want them?”

“Aren’t you using them for genetic testing?” JJ’s question was tentative, the suspicion evident in all 3 women’s faces.

“Oh! No, not these ones. I had to test for growing conditions so I didn’t waste time accidentally killing the ones I do mess with the genetics of. I would never offer genetically weird tomatoes to my favorite god-nephew.”

“Is Henry your god-nephew because because Spencer considers you his sister or because I’m your best friend?” Penelope’s question was smug.

“Both, that makes me a double god-aunt,” you shrugged.

“So if something happens to Will and I, and Garcia and Spence, then sure, (y/n) would be next to take care of Henry.”

“Taking care of a kid is just like taking care of plants, right?” you grinned as the other women shook their heads.

“(y/n), you’re here! How was your class?” Spencer bounced over with nervous energy to your side, not acting at all like he just spent a week hunting a serial killer.

“As good as it can be when you’re teaching college kids how to extract DNA from strawberries,” you rolled your eyes with a smile, reaching up to fix his slightly askew tie, “how’s it going with the ladies?”

Spencer got visibly flustered, stumbling over his words as he tried to explain how his night was going, “did you, um, want a drink? I’ll go get you one,” he finally said, rushing off towards the bar. You snickered, watching him walk away.

“So who’s going to tell me what happened to him?” you asked, casually addressing the bruising that was on your best friend’s face as you turned back to the agents you were sitting with.

“Fight with an unsub. It wasn’t as bad as it looks,” JJ said.

“Oh good. As insufferable as googly-eye Spencer is, I’d prefer that over him suffering from night terrors,” you glanced over to where he was standing, showing a girl at the bar a magic trick while he waited for your drink, “if I didn’t feel so bad I’d go over there and ask him if he wanted to go home with me, really throw him for a loop.”

“You say he’s insufferable, what does he think about living with you?” JJ asked with a smirk.

“I’m the biggest delight in his life, he’s lucky to have me,” your sarcasm was evident.

“I sure am,” Spencer slid your drink onto the table in front of you and sat down by your side.

“Giving up on the ladies?” your eyebrows raised in question.

“Yeah, I prefer to spend time with botanists who like to teach and grow plants in our apartment.”

You sipped your drink, “I might know someone like that.”

You stayed with the team and watched them start to relax after their week of work. When it finally got too late, Spencer asked for your keys.

“I’m telling you, plants are good for the soul. Our apartment is much more lively since I started bringing plants home,” you told him pointedly as you walked down the sidewalk towards where you had parked your car.

“You know, for a scientist you believe pretty strongly in feelings,” he opened your door and helped you in, then went around to the driver’s side. He didn’t like driving in the city, which was why he usually took the Metro, but if it meant getting you home safely he would do it without a second thought.

“For a doctor you don’t do much doctoring,” you stuck your tongue out at him, “besides, I still believe in science. I only bring home plants that I’m not using for research and when they’re dying so that your music can heal them. They like classical,” Spencer was quiet for a minute, so you spoke again, “I missed you too, by the way.”

He glanced over at you, confused.

“You said you missed me in your message. I missed you too.”

Before Spencer could respond, you had fallen asleep slouched in the seat next to him. He reached for the radio, turning the volume knob up slightly. He smirked when he heard the notes of Beethoven, you referred to it as ‘his music’ but he had always had a suspicion that you liked classical too.

“Spence,” you leaned into his side as he walked you through the door of your apartment, “I’m happy you’re home.”

He stopped at your bedroom door and pulled you into a hug, “I’m happy I’m home too.”

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the raging headache you were sporting. The second thing you noticed was the glass of water on your nightstand.

You slurped the water gratuitously before standing. You knew you shouldn’t have been this hungover, you only had a couple of drinks but between teaching and your research you didn’t get to go out very often. You padded out to the kitchen to refill the glass, becoming aware of your roommate’s open door and lack of presence in the small apartment. A post-it note on the counter with Spencer’s chicken scratch handwriting confirmed your suspicion; he had gotten called in unexpectedly.

You made some coffee and put on a nature documentary, then started puttering around the house watering the plants you had across the various surfaces of your home. You had started bringing a new plant home every time Spencer traveled years ago, a few months after you had moved in with the doctor. It had started with just one, you had brought it home to give it extra attention, but when Spencer came home he commented on how he liked it so it stayed on your kitchen windowsill. Your small apartment was now crowded with as many plants as it had books.

As soon as the plants were watered you went back to the kitchen and made some food. You hoped Spencer wouldn’t be gone for too long, though there was no predicting what he got called in for. You spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch, watching a wide range of documentaries. When you were getting ready for bed you sent Spencer a text, just a simple ‘hope you’re ok’ before you settled under your blankets and fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were pleased to hear a commotion in the kitchen. You always felt more at ease when your favorite doctor was safely under the roof of your apartment. You wrapped yourself in a fuzzy blanket, opening your door in hopes that Spencer had started making coffee. Instead of your lanky roommate you were greeted by a shorter woman who turned around as soon as she heard your door open, her hand retracting quickly from the photo that was hanging on your refrigerator door.

She wasn’t anyone who you recognized, which confused you. Spencer usually told you when people were coming over, ‘people’ always being his coworkers and never strangers. You didn’t know what you wanted to say to this girl who was still standing in your kitchen. She ended up speaking first, though you weren’t sure if it was fortunate or unfortunate for you, “Spencer had to go into work, he said it was ok if I made some coffee before I left too.”

“Are you… um… a coworker of his?” You already knew the answer to your question, but you couldn’t think of any other way to figure out who this girl was.

“No, we met a few months ago. I have to run, maybe I’ll see you around. Toodles!” You watched in awe as she walked out of the apartment, taking one of your coffee mugs with her. After standing shocked for a few minutes, you finally gathered yourself. First, you dumped the pot of coffee she had made and started a fresh one. Considering how your day had begun, there was no way you were getting through it without coffee.

Once you finally had some caffeine in your system, you went back to your room and started putting yourself together for the day. There was something about the woman Spencer had brought home that you couldn’t shake. You got increasingly frustrated as you started your normal plant care routine, how could Spencer bring home somebody that he had known for a few months and not have the decency to tell you he was seeing her at all, let alone bringing her into your apartment?

This wasn’t the first time he had hidden something- or someone from you. Considering his aversion to talking about work, there was a lot about the doctor that you didn’t know. Usually you didn’t mind, his personal life was his just as much as your personal life was yours, but this was a whole new level of secrecy. As you spiraled your eyes lingered on the Polaroid the woman had been looking at when you had entered the kitchen earlier.

Penelope had taken it the previous fall, on a team outing to the local pumpkin patch. While the rest of the squad had brought their families, Spencer had invited you. Between Spencer’s genius brain, your affinity for plants, and your shared love of Halloween the afternoon was more than perfect. You and Spencer had been crouched down to eye level with Henry next to a pumpkin that was almost as tall as the little boy, teaching him all there was to know about the plant when the photo was taken. It was one of your favorites, beautifully encapsulating the genuine love you felt for both boys.

The way Spencer’s guest was looking at the picture felt like an invasion of your privacy, an invasion of this life that you had worked so hard to find. With all of his brain power, Spencer must have known that, right?

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you grabbed your keys and the closest sweater before getting into your car and driving to Quantico. You called Spencer’s cell on the way, but it rang out and went to voicemail. You tossed your phone into the passenger seat, mildly annoyed that he didn’t pick up so that you could at least warn him you were going to yell at him as soon as you had the chance.

You had visited Spencer and the rest of your friends at work enough times to breeze through the security clearance and make it up to the sixth floor. You saw the team meeting at the round table, so you perched on Spencer’s desk and waited. Your roommate was the first out of the conference room, followed by Hotch and Rossi, a pleased smile on his face when he saw you sitting in the bullpen.

“(y/n)! I’m sorry I didn’t see you at all yesterday. Did you have a good day?” His tone was soft and very Spencer-like, you almost felt bad for the berating he was about to get.

“Yeah, I didn’t do much yesterday, it was nice. What about you?”

“We got called in for this consult, that’s what we were just finishing up today. Sorry I didn’t leave a note, I was in a bit of a hurry. How did you know I was here?”

“You did leave something for me, that’s how I knew. Or… someone I should say,” you watched the confusion in Spencer’s face, followed by the wave of realization.

“Sarah was still there?”

“Yep, she made coffee and everything, real cheery for 8:00 AM. Were you going to tell me you had a girlfriend or was this your plan the whole time?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he started fidgeting.

“So… you brought a random girl into our house…?” You really wanted to understand the genius logic he had, but he wasn’t making it easy.

“She’s not random- look, when did my personal life become your business?” he started getting defensive. You stood from his desk, facing him in the mostly empty bullpen.

“It became my business when we moved in together. I don’t need to know everything but come on, if you’re bringing a girl home I should at least get a warning.”

“It was last minute, ok? I figured you were asleep, I can call next time if you want.”

“Is there going to be a next time? No offense, Spence, but she didn’t really seem like your type.”

“My type?”

You gave him a pointed look, “she said ‘toodles’ when she left. That only happens in bad movies. I thought you were into smarter girls. How did you even meet her?”

“It doesn’t matter how I met her. I can spend time with people other than you, you know.”

“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m just saying as your roommate I should at least get a heads up, or not be put in the situation at all. It was a dick move, Spencer. If you’re going to hook up with a girl you can at least take two minutes to see her out before you leave.”

“We didn’t sleep together, ok? Why are you always so nosy?”

“Since when have I been nosy? You’re one to talk, Mr. Profiler. If I can’t hide things neither can you.”

“It’s Doctor,” he spit back at you quickly, a knee-jerk reaction, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he picked up a stack of folders from his desk but you grabbed his wrist before he could go anywhere. You and Spencer had never had an argument like this, and while you knew you were responsible for starting it he was escalating it unnecessarily- and unlike himself.

“You’re really walking away from this right now? You don’t just get to call me nosy and then leave. What else do you have to say?”

“Would you rather me air all of my grievances out like dirty laundry? I can do that, I have a list and I have the time,” he started raising his voice.

You let go of his wrist to cross your arms defensively, “enlighten me, Doctor Reid. I’d love to hear all of it.”

“You get water all over the apartment when you water the plants, you- you never put my books back in the same order I put them in, and you never leave a note when you go to the lab. Someone could abduct you and I wouldn’t know.”

“You would know, because you’re a genius and you remind me about it every five seconds. And I could say the same thing about yourself, would it kill you to call me and let me know when you’re coming home from a case? Also, you drink all of the coffee before I even have a chance to have some, and keep way too many secrets for someone I consider my best friend.”

The list went on and on, both of you heatedly arguing about quirks that were trivial in the grand scheme of things. You were so engaged in your squabble, however, that you missed the conversation happening in the conference room behind you.

Morgan was standing next to Garcia with his arms crossed, “bets on how long they keep going like this?”

“Reid’s brain is… infinite, I don’t think he could stop if he wanted to,” Emily decided from Morgan’s other side.

“(y/n) won’t give in that easily, she’s a tough cookie,” Penelope defended.

“Twenty bucks says Pretty Boy ends the argument. Kid must have something that she won’t have a response to.”

“My money is on Reid apologizing first. You’re on, hot stuff.”

“Should we say something? They can’t keep going like this forever,” JJ was worried for both of you.

“Do you want to get in the middle of that?” Morgan asked, “they’ll settle down eventually. They’ve lived together for how long? Even an argument like this won’t break them.”

“What’s happening out there?” Rossi stepped into the room and eyed the other agents.

“Nothing good, they’ve been at it for twenty minutes now.”

“I’ve never seen them fight like this before…” Penelope gaped.

“A lover’s quarrel?”

“No, this is deeper than that. A sibling squabble?” Emily suggested.

“I should have known,” the older man smirked.

“You’re not going to stop them?” JJ questioned, still worried. Rossi shook his head.

“Sometimes you just have to let them fight it out. Reid and (y/n) are good communicators, they’ll figure it out. Aaron won’t share that sentiment though.” Sure enough, the agents watched as Hotch entered the bullpen moments later.

“Reid,” Hotch commanded attention from you and Spencer, “that’s enough. We have work to do. (y/n), it would probably be best if you went home.”

You knew his suggestion was not optional. There was a beat of tension as Hotch walked away.

“And for the record, I hate that stupid vest,” you hissed, jabbing your finger at the patterned sweater vest on Spencer’s chest. Turning on your heel and stalking out of the building, you didn’t see the other agents holding back laughter and Spencer gaping after you.

Instead of going home, you went to your lab. The clean environment was stark compared to the cozy clutter of your apartment, and it was the perfect place to cool down after your argument. You first checked on the plants you were growing, noting any changes. Then you checked your equipment, making sure everything was working properly. Though the routine was a welcome distraction, you couldn’t keep your thoughts from Spencer. The first time you had met your roommate was in this building, two floors up.

You had been searching the chemistry floor for a specific piece of equipment that you needed for your project. Spencer had been poking around the chemistry labs and instead found you shoulders-deep in a closet. After helping you find what you were looking for he asked what you were working on. You had looked at him with a wicked grin and said “solving the world hunger crisis.” You could see the curiosity on his face, as well as the reeling of his brain when you brought him back to your lab, this lab.

That was years ago and the room was much fuller now. Your research was progressing, it was slow but still there. You pulled an extra special plant off of the counter and moved it to the table next to your microscope. You shrugged on the sweater you had brought before your hands went on autopilot, preparing a slide and looking at the green cells underneath the lens.

Your phone ringing startled you from your mostly meaningless observations, “hey Pen.”

“(y/n), my sweet summer child, how are you?”

“I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m safe, too. I’m not putting myself in danger,” you rolled your eyes.

“I never said you were, sweetness. Just checking in, you don’t fight with him often,” her voice softened.

“I know. Like I said, I’m fine.”

“Ok, do you need to crash on my couch? I can see if Emily and JJ are available to have a girl’s night if you want.”

“No, thanks. I’m just going to go home late, sneak in behind a large leaf or something,” you joked half heartedly.

“There’s my girl. Call me if you need anything, ok?”

“Ok, thanks Penelope,” when she hung up, you went back to your microscope. You stayed there staring at the same cluster of plant cells unable to really focus until there was a knock on your door. When you looked up your favorite slender genius was leaning on the doorframe.

“For the record, you’re wearing my sweater,” your eyebrows knitted together for a second until you saw the timid smile playing on his lips.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Garcia tracked your phone. I didn’t ask her to but she told me where you were anyways. I’m… uh… I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Me too, except about that vest. I really do hate it and will willingly burn it for you anytime. All you have to do is ask,” Spencer laughed quietly.

“And, uh, I’m sorry about Sarah. She, um…” he trailed off.

“Spence, I don’t need an explanation. It’s ok,” you chewed on your lower lip, “I’m sorry I stormed into your workplace just to start an argument. There were definitely better ways I could have handled that.”

“Are we ok?”

“You tell me, genius,” your eyes locked with his, eyebrows raised, “I think we’re ok, do you?”

“Yeah, we’re ok. What are you working on?” He strode over to your side, gently touching the plant in front of you.

“This is for you, actually,” you told him, “I was working on genetically modifying fruit size, so I bought some giant pumpkin seeds to make an… extra giant pumpkin, just for fun. I thought we could carve it for Halloween, I was going to bring it home for you.”

“How did you plan on getting a giant pumpkin through our front door?” he laughed.

“I was going to bring it home before it started fruiting. Honestly it’s going to have to be soon, I need to do some serious repotting to accommodate this vine,” your fingers brushed the stems gingerly, “you know you can tell me anything, right?” Spencer pulled over a chair so he could better look into the microscope.

“I know,” he paused, pulling back from the lens, “you can tell me anything, too.”

“I’m sorry, sir, this is a cop-out free lab. If that’s the best you can do you’re going to have to leave,” you deadpanned.

“Shut up, I mean it,” he shook his head. You leaned into his side gently, your shoulder pressing into his.

“Love you, Spence.”

“I love you too.”

#platonithon #PPWFI's platonithon #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #platonic imagine

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maybe-i-dreamt-u · 4 years

Text

Soft sighs and simple smiles

“I’m sorry. I really am.” She said.

Zuko couldn’t really believe what just happened. Had Mai actually fucking broken up with him? He vision was suddenly very cloudy and he didn’t know if it was because of his headache or the tears pooling in his eyes. He needed to get out of there. Quickly.

He had said something before he left the room. Something along the lines of “sorry I wasn’t enough.” Or “best of luck”, but he wasn’t really sure what. He’s sure he didn’t just storm off without a word, but right now he really couldn’t remember what it is that he said. It’s not like it mattered, anyway.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur. Zuko was feeling too sick and there were too many tears streaming down his face to properly pay attention to what he was doing. Running away, apparently. At around 3 in the morning the realisation kind of hit him. Fire Lord Zuko, yes, the one who had just had a wonderful meeting with his council not even 12 hours ago, was currently sitting in a train going to Ba Sing Sai, with a big black hood on so people wouldn’t recognize him (and also so they wouldn’t see his red face and puffy eyes). That Fire Lord Zuko had just been dumped and was now heading to his uncle in hope for some comfort and good tea. Though if he thought about it, good tea was comfort.

Zuko felt more dead than alive when he entered the Jasmine Dragon, and he wanted to sleep more than anything else in the world, but he knew he had to at least say hello to the person who had supported and loved him more than anyone else. So he quickly stopped by the kitchen to hug Uncle and thank him for allowing his nephew to come on such short notice, before heading upstairs to his room. As soon as the door was closed behind him, the salty tears returned and Zuko threw himself face down on the bed, wishing he could get a fucking break from life.

As soon as Iroh had called them, Sokka knew he had to get to Ba Sing Sai as soon as possible. He knew what getting broken up with felt like (thanks, Suki) and he also knew that what his best friend (who he was coincidentally very much in love with, you know, to make tings difficult) needed, was a distraction. Or, in other words, Zuko needed his friends to come over. So Katara and Aang took Appa and collected Sokka and Toph on their way to the Earth Kingdom. They made it to the city in no less than 5 hours.

Sokka hadn’t exactly expected Zuko to be ball of sunshine, but that didn’t prepare him for the sight inside the tea shop. In the far left corner, where light barely made it though the windows, Zuko was sitting alone, drinking a small cup of tea and writing something in a leather journal. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the breakup. His matted hair was slightly covering his face, which was lacking its usual angry expression. Zuko just looked empty. Sokka’s heart broke a little. He hadn’t seen Zuko like this since Azula was put in a mental hospital.

The others didn’t seem to take the sight much better either. Katara looked like she wanted to cry too and Aang had a horrible, pitiful look on his face. And Toph, well… Toph couldn’t see so she was safe for now.

The group approached Zuko slowly and quietly, trying not to startle him, as if he was some wild animal that would run off at the slightest sign of danger. Knowing Zuko and his relationship with emotions, he probably would run off.

As they got closer to his table, Zuko lifted his eyes. He looked more annoyed, than surprised to see them.

“I fucking knew he would tell you” he said in lieu of hello and dropped his gaze back to what he was writing.

“Well hello to you too, Sparky!” Toph punched Zuko’s arm and took a seat next to him. Katara, Aang and Sokka sat down on the other side.

“Hey there, Zuko! How are you?” said Aang cheerly and Zuko answered flatly with

“Fucking great, and you?” Apart from his right hand, he wasn’t moving, but Sokka could see how tense he was.

“Oh, you know, just… Visiting a beautiful city” Everyone fell silent after that. None of them really knew what to say to Zuko when he was like this. Sokka wished he could crack a joke for his best friend, but he suddenly felt at a loss for words. Seeing Zuko so incredibly sad made his heart hurt. He just wanted to hold him tight and never let anything bad happen to him ever again. But that was against the rules, and this wasn’t even about him in the first place, so Sokka shoved that thought away for the time being.

“Look Zuko, we’re just trying to help you.” Katara tried again. Zuko just huffed in response.

“I know you and Mai were very close,” Zuko physically flinched at the mention of his ex-girlfriend, “and I know that you feel rea-“ she continued, but Zuko interrupted with a quiet

“You don’t know shit, ok? Stop acting like you know what’s going on. I appreciate the sentiment, but you really. Really. Don’t have any expertise in this particular domain.” Zuko sounded like he was staring to tear up again. Katara looked hurt, but she thankfully held her mouth. Toph however didn’t.

“I get that you’re hurt n’ all, but you really don’t have to be a bitch. We’re here for you, Sparky, not because we missed Ba Sing Sai so much, so maybe try acting like you appreciate it, and loosen up a bit.” Zuko opened his mouth to say something but Toph was quicker. “And don’t even try to tell me “Oh but I didn’t ask you to come!!” because we both know that you needed us to come and take your mind off things. I mean which one of us looks like they haven’t slept for 48 hours? Exactly. You. Now shut up and get me a cup of jasmine tea, please” She ended with an innocent smile and, for some reason, Zuko actually got up and headed towards the kitchen. Or at least that’s what Sokka thought. In the last moment, instead of going straight ahead, Zuko turned left and vanished in the back room.

“What the fuck, Toph?” Sokka stood up before he could think twice and headed in the same direction. He was going to go upstairs towards Zuko’s room but then he noticed the Fire Lord sitting expressionless in the corner of an empty staff room, knees to his chest, looking out the window. He looked like a little child that had been separated from his mother. Sokka’s heart broke a little more.

“Hey” he announced himself, in case Zuko hadn’t spotted him. His friend didn’t move, but he didn’t tell Sokka to stay away either, so Sokka slowly approached him. He sat down next to him and waited in silence. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Sokka was looking for the right way to tell him that he’s not alone, he’s got his friends and his uncle and yeah, it sucks now, but it’ll get better, you just have to give it some time, and, the Universe knows what to do, and frankly, they didn’t even look that cute together, and it would all be ok. Instead he just said

“You look like you could use a hug.” After a few moments of silence Zuko turned to look at him and asked

“What?” in flattest tone possible, with an impossibly tired look on his face. Sokka just shrugged and went

“I don’t know, you just give me the vibes of a person in need of a hug” he said with a tiny, knowing smile.

Zuko hummed in approval and turned to face him fully. Sokka opened his arms and Zuko slowly leaned into them, carefully placing his forehead on his friend’s chest. Sokka hoped Zuko couldn’t feel his heart beating at 1000mph and concentrated on embracing him in the fiercest hug he could muster. Slowly but surely he felt Zuko relax against his strong body. After a couple of minutes he let out a soft, little, ragged sigh and Sokka thought he might die on the spot.

Though unfortunately after a while Sokka could barely feel his legs anymore and as much as he hated ruining the moment, he said in the softest voice possible

“Bro I’m sorry to interrupt but my legs are absolutely dead, so if we’re gonna keep cuddling you have to let me move a bit”.

“First of all we’re not cuddling, I’m just receiving a comforting hug from my best friend because I feel like I’m going to die alone, and second of all, no.” Sokka felt a smile forming on his face and tried his best not to let it show.

“Ok, well if you want to keep receiving a comforting hug from your best friend, you’re gonna have to move because my legs also feel like they’re going to die alone.” Zuko only huffed at that and then he lifted his head. They changed into a more comfortable position, Sokka leaning his back on the wall, and Zuko’s head under Sokka’s chin, Sokka’s arms around Zuko’s fragile looking body. After he was sure that Zuko had closed his eyes, he texted Aang “we won’t be back for a while, don’t come looking, I’ve got it under control”. He wasn’t sure he actually had it under control, but he couldn’t tell Aang that, could he now?

The two just sat there without speaking. The silence was only occasionally broken by Zuko sighing or sniffing quietly, but nothing more. After about half an hour, just as Sokka was about to fall asleep and have the greatest nap of his existence, Zuko said faintly

“It was so sudden. I never even saw it coming” He said it so quietly that Sokka almost missed it. He starting asking himself if he had only imagined it when Zuko continued. “I know her. I’ve known her for years. And she didn’t act any differently.” That was followed by a sniffle and then, “She just- Fell out of love? I guess? That’s what she said but I don’t even know if I should believe it because she looked so sad, like I was the one breaking up with her. What the fuck is up with that?” He was now fully crying again. Sokka didn’t know what to say. He had never been great at words. So he just squeezed Zuko a little harder. That seemed to work, because Zuko went on, “I know this is gonna sound really dramatic, but I honest to Agni felt like I was dying a slow painful death as she was speaking to me. That feeling died down a bit since then though” Sokka could hear a smile in his voice. Oh the world really isn’t fair, is it?

After that he fell silent again. So they spent the better part of an hour on the floor, Zuko mostly crying, Sokka’s heart breaking, but it seemed to work. A good quarter of an hour after Zuko’s last sigh, Sokka finally spoke again.

“I know that you’re hurting immensely, and that you’d rather just brood in your room right now, but I think maybe it’s time that we go back to the others. I’m sure Katara and Toph have learned their lessons and maybe Aang will even manage to cheer you up. Also, I came here to have tea, and it’s kind of hard to drink any in this position.” Zuko didn’t even seem to hear him, so Sokka nudged his head gently. All he got in response was a simple “not yet”, so he tried again.

“Dude, it’s been like 2 hours…” to which Zuko only mumbled something inaudible. Sokka decided to let it go, but then the Fire Lord stood up, dragging the former with him.

He didn’t look Sokka in the eye as he said “Thanks. I mean it.” And then left the room. Sokka followed shortly after and counted it all as a victory.

#did I just write my first fic?#yeah I think I did #can't believe the first fic ive ever written is a zukka fic #what has my life become #anyays #enjoy #atla #zukka #zuko #sokka #modern setting au

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prorevenge · 4 years

Text

Falsely Accused of Cheating, Then Dumped

Date: April 2, 2009, a couple days after I turned 30.

I had been dating a wonderful girl, we’ll call her Ratchet, for almost 3 years. And we were good together, I really did see her as my soul mate. We weren't living together yet, but I was just a few weeks away from popping the question. However, as plans will be plans will go awry.

Enter my friend (we’ll call him Skidmark), who I'd known since freshman year at a well known university, he was also a fraternity brother and someone I'd be proud to call a real brother. This is the guy I would've asked to be my best man, and not as it's often portrayed in cheesy romantic comedies or whatever. That is, until his act of betrayal when he told Ratchet (A LIE) that I cheated on her. Also, he had no evidence of said infidelity.

How did this play out? Ratchet had been staying at my place for the past couple days and I arrived home to find her packing her things. When she saw me, she started shouting at me. A lot of it was hard to make out, other than the profanity but here's what I did remember:

"How could you do this to us"

"I can't believe you"

"Skidmark told me everything"

I attempted to interject a few times, almost in tears in one point when I shouted, "Just listen to me for a second!" but she just got all pissy that I yelled at her, and walked out after telling me to get fucked.

So obviously I called Skidmark a few times, left a voicemail asking WTF he told her and wanting to know why he dragged me through the mud like that. The next morning I went over to his apartment - to find that he moved a couple days ago. How convenient.

The next day, I get a call from another good friend of mine (he was a solid guy, so let’s call him Solid - we met at the same university/fraternity) and it went something like this:

"Um, are you sitting down"

"No, what do you want to tell me"

"When did you break up with Ratchet?"

"I didn't, Skidmark told her that I cheated on her and she walked out on me"

"I just drove past that dive in your old neighborhood, she's with him. They were all smiles, holding hands and everything - I was wondering what was ..."

(I disconnected)

So it doesn’t take the guys from True Detective to figure out that he orchestrated this from beginning to end, and his prize was a new girlfriend – now my ex.

At the time, it felt like this backstabbing bastard destroyed my life.

Fast forward to six weeks later ….

On a Friday night Solid went to a popular bar/club in the area to hang out and throw down a few brews. And who do you think walks in about 15 minutes later.

Why, it was Skidmark!

It was a pretty large bar, and Solid apparently did a pretty good job of not being seen, even though he did see a few things:

Skidmark went in alone, but he's talking to some girl maybe 5 minutes later. A few minutes later, he buys her a drink. A few minutes after that, they're on the dance floor.

A few minutes after that .... let's say Skidmark could have gotten arrested if he didn't have consent to put his hands where they were.

Keep in mind, Solid has already sent me several texts about what's been going on. At one point he included several photos of the handsy dancers. In the last photo Skidmark was kissing the girl.

And now he must be melting his phone with how fast the texts are coming in.

"You gotta nail this guy, Ratchet needs to know what's going on!"

"Shit he almost saw me!"

"I had to skip out of there, but I've done enough damage heh heh"

"He was kissing her in that last one, wanna bet he'll go all the way?"

This is where the plan comes together. I tell him to get in touch with Ratchet, and ask her to meet him (about something urgent) at a coffee shop close to where he lives. Note: his place was over 30 min away from where I lived, so hopefully Ratchet wouldn't be suspicious. I recommended a coffee shop because it's a public place with outdoor seating.

Sunday morning, May 17:

I remember everything about this encounter – what I was wearing, what she was wearing, what it smelled like, it’s permanently etched in my memory. I approached a couple minutes after they sat down. Once Ratchet saw me, her face physically changed, and she immediately got up to leave. Solid reached out and grabbed her arm before saying "You owe me, remember? Sit down and listen!"

She reluctantly sits down, and with a very pissy look on her face she asks, "What do YOU want, Parkesc?" ***

I respond, "What he said, sit down and listen" and I ask to borrow his phone so I can call up Skidmark. I hand him mind and tell him to pull up the photos when I give him the signal.

Here’s how the conversation went:

Skidmark answers with "Sup Solid"

I respond, with the speakerphone on, "Well hey buddy!"

There’s a brief pause followed by “uuuh”

“No it’s Parkesc. I hope you don’t mind; I’m using Solid’s phone since mine’s dead.”

(Keep in mind, Skidmark’s voice in the rest of this conversation is pretty sheepish)

“Long time no see man, what’s been going on?”

“A whole lot’s been going on, actually. How was Friday night?”

“How was Friday night?”

“Yeah”

“Why would you ask man … I mean I … I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah I think we both know why you haven’t seen me in a while, but anyway, Solid told me he saw you at the bar the other night, getting down with some hottie.”

“Who said that”

“Solid, you know, our fraternity brother from (that university). And, ummmm, he saw you. With that girl. And he may or may not have taken some pictures.”

“What?”

By the way, Ratchet’s eyes are getting pretty big right now, Solid is motioning her to be quiet. She mouthed the words WHAT THE FUCK as he began to open my phone and go to the pics.

“Yeah I got a LOT of pictures. And you know, I think I can guess who would like to see them.”

“Cmon man, don’t do this man. Why you doin this, man? Why you doin this?”

“What are you kidding me? We haven’t spoken in over a month because you lied to my girlfriend that I was in love with and planning to marry. Now you’re messing around behind HER back.”

“Man it isn’t like I was trying to steal her, man.”

“WELL MAYBE YOU CAN TELL ME WHAT YOU WERE TRYING TO DO, because Solid also mentioned he saw you two together. That was TWO DAYS after she walked out on me.”

“It’s not like that man, and you’re not gonna anything. I know you’re mad, but, cmon man.”

There was a brief pause, and my brain almost did a Ctrl-Alt-Delete after that auditory fuckpoop.

“No, you don’t know. And I’m not gonna CMON MAN.”

“Are you kidding me, you’re really gonna …”

“I’m doing this – right now, in fact. You’ve been on speaker the whole time, and Solid isn’t the only person here with me.”

“WHAT?”

And finally Ratchet chimed in.

“I cannot even believe you did this. What the hell? You’ve totally ….totally been lying to me and now you're cheating on me too?"

“No, no, no it wasn’t ….. FUCK! Really, Parkesc?”

“Basically, they’ve shown me all the pictures, I’ve been looking at them this whole time. What’s wrong with you, Skidmark??”

“I didn’t even know her.”

“What you mean, you didn’t know her??”

“Ok, you know what, fuck you Parkesc!”

And then Solid says his piece:

"WHOA WHOA WHOA, first of all, dude, you stole your best friend's girl with a BS lie, you just admitted it, and you're cheating on her anyhow!"

"Fine, whatever, it didn’t mean anything ….”

Ratchet responds with "Oh Please!” before she hangs up on him and turns toward me. She hands the phone back to Solid and he gives me back my phone with half a smile and a raised eyebrow. He probably expected a gratifying end to this escapade.

“Parkesc I am really sorry, I made a mistake. Is there any way ...."

“Stop right there!” I abruptly interject, with a sharp glare in my eye.

They’re both in shock.

“No, you never believed me, didn’t listen to one word I had to say. And you had no evidence, you just took that fuckhead’s word and walked out on me. Was it worth it?”

Solid was pretty much catatonic, stunned into silence. By the time I was halfway back to my car, I could have sworn I heard Ratchet starting to cry. I wouldn’t know because I refused to look back.

*** By the way, you’re probably wondering what the asterisks were for. Up until that point, there was still a snowflake’s chance in hell that Ratchet and I would get back together. When she didn’t even want to hear me out (yet again), I was done. I just didn’t let her know until I was finished with Skidmark.

I never heard from either of them again. Good riddance.

(source) story by (/u/parkesc)

#prorevenge #by /u/parkesc #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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yslore · 3 years

Text

Writing Asks

thank u to sarah @soldouthaz, lily @theisolatedlily and late @tomlinvelvetfics for tagging me !!

1. describe how you first started writing and when you first posted

started in eighth grade after moving which fucked me up (i’m still to recover lmao) n i needed a distraction, reading had always helped but writing is what let me see what the root of my agony was. (im not trying to be pretentious i swear) i first started on wattpad (love hate relationship to this day) and beginning of lockdown this year gravitated to ao3 which has been my saving grace !!!

2. which of your characters do you typically resonate most closely with? do you base any characters off of yourself?

so far i’ve mostly written in louis’ pov. i’ve had to ask this question in the early stages — i resonate the closest to harry. most of my wips are harry centric for that reason. i mean, yes and no — i tend to take some part of me and fit it into the character but at the same time i don’t like seeing me on a page so yes and no.

3. where do you often find inspiration?

EVERYWHERE. mostly others’ stories be it in the way of songs, music, writing, art. usually it’s me coming across a vaguely aesthetic picture and my brain spitting out one or two random scenes and me trying to make that a story.

4. has quarantine helped or hindered your writing process?

both !!! i have new wips but also i lost a lot of motivation to do anything for a bit. school is sucking the soul out of me — it’s both easier and harder with it being online, the worst part is i can never truly feel like i’m getting a break from it. recently it’s been easier for me bc of the friends i made (ily all) it’s hindered a little bit bc i can’t go out and watch people and streetlights and the blur of cars and try to pour out that feeling into words and create something. at the same time it’s helped me gain more perspective on people and relationships which has been a massive help to writing in general.

5. do you listen to music/noise while you write or do you prefer silence?

depending on the number of classes i have/attend, my mental stability, the story and my sensitivity. i often can’t stand loud noises so there’s that but there is always some noise or the other so it’s never truly silent. i like it that way. sometimes i just play intense studying playlist on spotify and write, Lucida by Odin Sørlie and Haunted Heart by Dawn, Dawn, Dawn are my favourites.

6. what is your biggest writing pet peeve in your writing or in general?

excessive usage of the same word in mine. in general, i’m not a fan of stereotypical characters or romanticising harmful themes.

7. describe your ideal writing setup

2 am, in bed, music still ringing in my ears, three texts from my best friend about a story or about their day. under the blanket, the room smelling of chocolate or something sweet.

8. favorite time of day to write?

anytime but afternoon. those hours are for naps.

9. favorite genre to write + one you’d like to try writing in the future?

fiction? i’d love to write a fantasy au 👀

10. do you struggle with writer’s block? how do you typically overcome it?

yep yep. i just edit an old story or read my old works or other writers’ fics. i gave up trying to force myself into writing — i hated the end product and felt bad so.

11. what is the easiest part of your writing process and the most difficult?

probably the emotions? dialogue without a doubt — i dread writing it. it doesn’t come to me naturally. i can write lengths without dialogue tbh. also smut — it’s an eh eh aspect.

12. how do you come up with original characters? (if applicable)

my wonderful friends. they do dumb shit and i want to tell the world about their dumb shit so i make characters out of them.

13. what is your favorite and least favorite word?

as of now it is fucker — delightful word that one. least favourite is probably squelch — just no.

14. what is one thing about your writing that you’re really proud of and one thing you hope to continue working at?

the dreamy feeling i manage to write without a doubt !!!! dialogue and pacing. i don’t have the best dialogue or the pacing or the length for fics but i’m working on all of those !!

15. what work of yours has your favorite ‘verse/world building? how did you come up with it?

still a wip so i can’t tell you much except that it’s a proper treat. will write this once i’ve posted that fic !!

16. what font and size do you write in? single spaced or double?

*nervous laughter* the font changes from fic to fic — crush is comic sans, size 11. October was Lora, 11. Twisted in bedsheets is courier new, 11. stargazing is spectral, 11. so yeah — whatever the fic demands. single spaced !!!! except when i’m overwhelmed i do double spaces.

17. what is a typo(s) you find yourself making consistently?

I Cannot Type. if you think i can — congratulations you were fooled. autocorrect is the loml.

18. (if applicable) do you separate fic writing from fandom?

of course !!!! i basically do not exist out of my writing.

19. what emotion is your favorite to write? which is the most difficult?

pain, pining, longing. lust.

20. what is one thing you hope readers always take away from your works?

we’re all fucked up but we’re trying and trying sometimes is enough. you shouldn’t spend your life carved out around one person. it’s okay to ask for help and need a shoulder to lean on. i hope these come across in my future fics !!!!

21. what is the best and worst writing advice you’ve ever received?

bold of you to assume i’ve ever received advice.

22. which one of your works would you most want to see turned into a film/television show?

a new fic. will update the answer once that fic is out !!!!!

23. do you write scenes chronologically or out of order?

chronologically. i can’t do out of order. i do have a page full of scribbles but they are to tell me the order sjakmd.

24. how do you handle criticism?

if it’s constructive then well. no thick skin tbh. makes me feel as if i need validation from someone else on my art which isn’t necessary but my brain is wired to seek it and it’s a hassle.

25. what is the advice you would give to someone who is looking to start writing?

write everything you would want to read. write it bad, don’t worry about the quality. don’t worry about the audience. end of the day, it should be something you can turn to for comfort not something that makes you feel bad.

26. what kind of feedback on your work always makes your day?

people telling me they like my writing and it could take them out of this world for a few minutes !!!!!

27. which fic ‘verse of your own would you most like to exist in? which fic’s characters would you most like to befriend?

probably crush verse !!!! harry — his is probably the one character where i dump most of me in.

28. what do you always enjoy getting asks about/wish people would ask about more?

rant to me about anything. i enjoy talking. ask me about wips so i can take the little guilt and write more.

29. what has writing added to your life? how has it changed you?

it’s nice to let go and express things and create characters with a better situation than mine.

30. why do you write?

keep myself busy.

boost yourself + tags

1a. share the last sentence you wrote

No kissing. No flashbacks.

2a. describe the wip you’re most excited about

a little something i’m writing inspired by @brickredtoe’s art !!!!

3a. share the piece of dialogue from one of your works you’re most proud of

ok. well. from 5436 miles

“Or we could always add a trail of stars to one of those moons,” he replies, words dragged out, rolling around in his mouth.

He can see the glint in his eyes even behind his closed lids. Everything about Louis is inked and etched into every fiber of his being.

He would’ve kissed him, words pouring from his mouth into Harry’s, only half his.

He snorts. “And make it seem like the moon has a buttplug? No, thanks.”

4a. share the best first and last lines from your work(s)

both my published fics have circular endings.

5436 miles — Louis always had more stars in his eyes.

these tornadoes are for you — His heart beats in peace.

5a. link to the last fic you read.

sugary sweet by the immensely talented @soldouthaz

6a. link the last work you published

here

7a. link to your ao3 (if applicable)

wheeee

8a. someone that inspires you

taylor. she’s so so wonderful.

9a. a comfort fic/work that you’ve been grateful for this year

all of riv, sarah, ris and late’s fics. they’ve been so so comforting. Event Horizon by @mercurial-madhouse

10a. other writers that you’d like to tag!

@mercurial-madhouse @harryanthus are the only ones coming to mind atm. i’ve been up for too long apologies.

#long post #games #writing asks #q q q

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raysofcrosby · 4 years

Text

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW PT. 3

“𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘐'𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦." ━ 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐤

gif credit (x)

series masterlist

requested: yes | no

warnings: nothing i don’t think.

word count: 4,960 [oof hello]

authors note: ok so this turned out a lot better than i thought it was going to be, but it’s still like a filler ch really. i tried to put as much fluff stuff that i could but i swear from here on out, no more filler chs lol. also, idk how professional teams travel to the airport and stuff, so plz don’t come at me for that. i only know how college teams travel. if you haven’t read the first two parts, you can read there here and here! anyway, i hope you enjoy part three!

"Baby Benn, you've gotta get up."

You groaned, moving your hand around your bed and grabbing the nearest pillow, pressing it down over the back of your head to mute the noise around you.

"That's it, I'm resorting to dumping water on her. Do you have a cup?"

"If you dump water on her, that's a for sure way to get her to hate you, J." That was Kennedy and the other voice sounded like Big Rig, but your mind wasn't fully awake to identify it yet.

"Dump water on me and I'll castrate you." You mumbled, tossing the pillow aside and instead, pulling your covers over the top of your head. "Now shut up and let me sleep."

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Y/N," Kennedy replied, shuffling around the room. "I'll finish packing whatever she started last night, and you get her up."

"How am I supposed to do that? I don't want to be castrated and water is the only way I know that will work!"

You heard Kennedy sigh as she shuffled around the room. "How about telling her that you brought her coffee?"

You threw back the blanket off of your head and rubbed your eyes before sitting up and staring at Big Rig and Kennedy who were standing by your bed. "Coffee?"

Kennedy smiled at him and patted his chest. "Works every time. Now get her dressed."

Big Rig watched helplessly as Kennedy went off towards your drawers with your backpack in hand. He turned to you and smiled, shoving the dunkin' iced coffee towards you. "I got you coffee."

You took it cautiously, staring at the label and seeing that it was your usual order, which meant either he's paid attention to your coffee order or Kennedy told him what to get. "What are you doing here?"

"I was dropping Kennedy off and now I'm taking you to the airport."

"Why were you dropping her– oh!" You stared at the two of them, Kennedy keeping her back to you as she finished up packing your backpack and Big Rig rubbing the back of his neck as his face turned red. "well, thanks for at least letting me have the room when you brought me home."

"We didn't bring you, home babe, this is the first I've stepped foot here since

we left yesterday."

"Then who–"

"That would be Segs and you need to get dressed, now." Big Rig said, taking the coffee from your hands as Kennedy shoved some jeans and your Dallas Stars polo into your arms.

"Wait...Tyler dropped me–"

"Dressed, now! You need to get on a plane soon." Kennedy replied, pulling you out of your bed and ushering you towards the bathroom. "If you're not dressed and ready in five, you're going naked," and then she shut the door.

You stood there still half asleep and holding your uniform in your hands while your mind was still stuck on the fact that Tyler drove you home. But he had been drinking, so maybe he bought you an uber back to the dorm with someone? No, that wouldn't make sense. The only person you knew at the party that had any relation to SMU was Cole. And with the way Tyler felt about Cole, you highly doubt he'd put you in an uber with him. Well if it was Tyler who brought you back to your dorm, at least he let you sleep as you were, which you had to admit...sleeping in his jersey was the comfiest thing you could manage to remember from last night. After you changed out of your costume and into your jeans and polo, you folded Tyler's jersey up just as Kennedy knocked on the door.

"Are you dressed or are you giving the Stars a show on the plane?"

You held onto the jersey and spandex, opening the door and giving her a sleepy glare. "One, my brother is on that plane and that's gross. And two, could you please stop being so loud. I'm tired and hungover."

You placed the jersey onto your bed and Big Rig looked at it with a smile. "So, what's the story about that?"

You smiled, "well it's a sexy one actually," you snatched your coffee out of his hands and took a sip. "Kidding. But do you know a place I can get it washed before I give it back?"

"Sure why not, but we need to go now before we get left behind."

Kennedy handed you your backpack and placed her hands on your shoulders. "Do a kickass job today roomie, I love you."

"Love you too, ya nerd." You laughed, shrugging the backpack onto your shoulders. "And thanks for not taking my books out of here."

"Who's the nerd now?" She smiled, turning to Big Rig and suddenly blushing. "I had a lot of fun last night, thanks again."

"I'll text you...on the plane?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck again as she nodded. He leaned down and kissed her cheek before looking at me and clearing his throat. "Alright, plane to catch. Let's go Baby Benn!"

He came up behind you and pushed you out of the door as he followed close behind. "As soon as we get into my car, I'm probably going to break a multitude of speeding laws, so please don't tell your brother."

"I won't tell as long as you spill the beans on Tyler taking me home and whatever happened between you and Kennedy last night."

"Ooh, you really want the details? Kinky."

You elbowed him in the side and he groaned. "Not that, you perv."

He shoved you ahead of him as you guys left your dorm building and headed towards his car parked in an emergency lane. "Well, you've got a deal," he unlocked his car and walked around to the drivers' side, pointing his key at you. "As long as you don't spill your coffee in my car."

"My precious coffee? Never." You gasped, taking another long sip before smiling at him. "Now spill."

❒❒❒❒

It was a miracle that you didn't fall asleep on the car ride to the airport. Big Rig had his heater on blast, along with his seat warmers– making his car feel like one big blanket wrapped around you. Your iced coffee wasn't doing anything to help your body wake up, no matter how long you were trying to make it last for the flight. One good thing that was beneficial from the car ride, was his story with how he and Kennedy ended up becoming closer.

Some point in time after Cole threw his hissy fit at you he had kept his word and went to start a game of beer pong with three other girls. Kennedy was hanging out with your brother and Big Rig when she spotted Cole getting a little too friendly with his teammate, again keeping to his word. Kennedy being the dedicated best friend she is, of course, approached him in her badass manner and went off on him after 'politely', as Big Rig put it, telling the girl to buzz off. He said she was like a chihuahua approaching King Kong and King Kong was terrified. Big Rig didn't come in until Cole had 'accidentally' spilled one of the water cups all over her top and he stepped in to prevent Kennedy from going berserk on him. Your brother, apparently, then told Cole to 'get the fuck out' and before he did, he bumped into Kennedy and Big Rig. In which, Kennedy yelled after him calling him a '40th round, bench-warming draft pick' as he walked out.

Big Rig had apparently helped her into the kitchen and found some paper towels to help her dry off her costume and then commented on her obvious distaste for Cole and shockingly...the two of them bonded over that. Otherwise, their entire night was spent talking about her major, his sister's Olympic experience, dancing, drinking and then well...you. Kennedy again, being Kennedy, had pulled the first move on him, asking him if he wanted to go back to your guys' place and 'not watch Netflix.' When they went to find you to tell you that they were heading out, Tyler was bringing you out from the hallway where you had found his dogs. You were pretty drunk and the two of them offered to take you back to the dorm, but according to Big Rig, Tyler read the situation and told them to go ahead, that he'd get you back to the dorm. Then they went back to his apartment, had leftover pizza, didn't watch some Netflix and the rest was history.

You were ultimately proud of Kennedy for finally finding the hockey player she's always wanted, and you were even more happy that it was Big Rig of all players. He was intimidating at first due to his size, but he was a sweetheart too. And while their personalities were opposite on some spectrums, you knew it would work between the two of them. When you got to the airport and parked his car, the two of you rushed through the set-up security area before walking onto the tarmac and towards the plane. He, being the giant that he is, was painfully many steps ahead of you. You kept trying to catch up so you wouldn't have to walk onto the plane alone and awkward, but your backpack weighed down with your study supplies was not helping in any way.

When the two of you got onto the plane, you were both greeted with smiles and hellos. The seats in the front were filled with the guys who had already seemed to set up camp, whether that be already deep into their Netflix accounts or passed out against the windows. You continued to follow Big Rig down the aisle, seeing your brother sitting beside Rads, shockingly. "So she lives," he laughed, leaning back into his seat and nodding at your coffee. "Is it doing the trick?"

"Not even close," You pouted, stopping beside him. "So where the hell am I supposed to sit?"

He shrugged his shoulders, putting an earphone in. "I don't know, find an empty seat I guess."

"Wow, brother of the year award right there." You replied, flicking his ear and running down the aisle before he could reach back and jab you.

When you regained your focus, you saw that Big Rig was already seated down next to Dickinson and you sighed, trucking on towards the back half of the plane. Resting about five rows from the back, was an empty window seat and you felt yourself get excited and then your eyes landed on the body sitting in the seat beside it. There was Tyler, looking down at his lap with his headphones on his head and completely unattached from the world. You took a deep, calming breath before walking the few steps and coming to a stop next to his seat. He didn't notice your presence and you looked down to see him watching some Christmas movie. You tapped his shoulder and he looked up, smiled and then nudged a headphone off of his ear. "Wow, don't you look like such a happy camper."

"I'm just peachy," you replied, giving him a sarcastic smile before nodding your head at the empty seat. "Can I sit there?"

"Not like you have a choice, seeing that it's one of the only empty ones left," he looked ahead at the front of the plane and then at the seat beside him.

"Come on, Tyler. I'm exhausted, my brain hates me, my coffee isn't doing its job and I need to finish making my study cards so I can study on the flight back."

He held his hands up and laughed. "Alright, alright geez, I'll move." He stood up and let you get to your seat. "Besides, that seat's yours anyway."

"And care to clarify how that is, Seguin?" You replied, taking your backpack off and resting it down by your feet.

"Well, I told you that I'd save you a seat, didn't I?"

You paused, still bent over so you could grab your school stuff and honestly felt like you might just stay that way. You couldn't help but wonder just how Tyler managed to save you a seat. Did he deliberately turn people away by saying he was saving it for you? Did he just say that he wanted the extra room to stretch out and sleep? Who normally sat with him on plane rides? You figured it would have been Jamie or Rads seeing how buddy-buddy the three of them are...but they were upfront and Tyler was back here. "Ma'am, we're getting ready to take off soon. You need to sit upright."

Your cheeks only grew redder as you collected your stuff from your backpack into your arms and sat yourself up avoiding the flight attendant and Tyler's gaze. As she moved on, Tyler failed to continue to stifle his laughter. "Well look at you, Y/N. Someone thinks you're old enough to be a ma'am."

"It's called Southern Hospitality, Tyler. I figured you would've picked some of that up since you've been living here for six years." You spat back, still holding your stuff tight against you as the plane began to move.

He sucked in a breath, looking at you and then your coffee. "Yikes, I guess your coffee must not be doing its job then, huh? What do you even drink anyway?"

"Tyler come on–"

He reached for your coffee and spun it around to read the label. You thought about making a joke about whether or not he had the capability to read since he was holding it so close to his face, but your brain was too tired to even think about coming up with a rebuttal. "Medium, hazelnut iced coffee, with almond milk and two splendas." He looked back up at you and handed you your coffee. "No wonder why you’re tired, this is watered down caffeine."

"I'll have you know that it's very delicious." You replied, tilting the cup back at him.

He looked at it and quickly leaned in, taking a sip from your straw before leaning back just as quick so you couldn't hit him. You watched as his facial expressions resembled those of the kombucha girl video Kennedy showed you two weeks ago. But instead of ending in total disgust, he just crossed his arms and adjusted his headphones. "Okay, it is good."

You smiled in victory and put your coffee back down just when the seatbelt sign turned off. "Gentlemen and...lady, the seatbelt sign is off and you may move about the cabin. Our flight attendants will come around soon and serve you food and drinks of your choice. It's about 36 degrees in Denver right now with a low of 25. Our flight time totals out to be 2 hours, so relax and go Stars!"

"I'm sorry, did he say 36 degrees?" You asked, looking at Tyler.

"It's November and Colorado, what do you expect, Y/N?" He laughed, putting his phone in his lap. "What are you doing?"

You pulled down the tray table in front of you and placed your flashcards container on it, along with your Physiology book. "I have a test on Tuesday and I was supposed to spend all day today in the library making my cards and studying since I don't have class, but I'm traveling with you guys so..."

"You don't have class on Friday?"

"Wednesdays and Fridays, nope." You opened your book to the right page and pulled out your cards. "My mentor loves me and helped me figure out how to keep those free, especially with the internship.

"So if you have Friday's off...why don't you ever come out to the bars with us after the games? You always make it seem like you have more important things to do."

"Well...I have a boyfriend–"

"Barely."

You gave him a look and went back to adjusting your supplies. "And a roommate who may love hockey, but doesn't want to hang around the players 24/7."

He frowned and looked back down at his phone as you unzipped your pencil case. "So what's up with Jamie?"

"I don't know, he's your best friend, why don't you ask him yourself? I'm not my brother's keeper."

"I meant Big Rig," he replied, rolling his eyes. "What's up with you two? Do you...like him?"

"Not you too..." you groaned and looked at him, honestly annoyed since that was the second time you were asked about you and Big Rig. "Cole said the same thing. We're just friends and I think he's more into my roommate anyway, considering he dropped her off this morning...if you catch my drift."

You could see a hint of red on his cheeks as he opens his mouth and then closes it before looking back at his phone. "So no–"

"Nope, no feelings because he's just a friend, Kennedy likes him and that's a violation of girl code." You picked up a card and pointed your pen at him. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to work on these cards."

He rested his phone into his lap and leaned over to look at them. "How many do you have to make?"

"48."

"I could help you if you want? Just to make it a bit easier. I'm not doing anything but watching Netflix, anyway."

You looked at Tyler, surprised by his gesture but already knew your answer. "Sorry Seguin, but I've seen your chicken scratch and there's no way I'd get a good grade if I can't read my cards."

He stuck out his bottom lip and put on his best puppy dog eyes. "I could take my time and make them neat?"

You lifted the armrest between you and Tyler and brought your legs up to sit criss-cross on your seat. He didn't even blink an eye, still watching his phone as you burrowed down into your seat and brought your book into your lap, preparing your notecards.

Two hours would be the perfect time to get 48 cards done, no problem.

❒❒❒❒

Two hours was not enough time to finish your notecards, let alone ten. However, two hours was plenty of time to get some extra sleep on the shoulder of your seat buddy. The last thing you remembered was looking through your book, trying to find the definition for a term and then the next thing you knew, Big Rig and Jamie were discussing whether or not to draw a mustache on your face with one of your highlighters. It was embarrassing to know that you had used Tyler as your personal pillow for the entire flight, a fact that you know he'd come back and probably use against you later on as a joke.

From the airport, the team hopped onto a bus and went straight to the arena to settle in. The Avalanche training staff was helpful in regards to giving you guys things if you didn't have them, but luckily you managed to pack just about everything. Though you guys needed an extra heating pad, Dave sent you down to their training room after asking their head trainer if it was okay to borrow one. Needless to say, walking into the Avalanche training room dressed in your Stars polo was a little awkward. Not in the sense that it was enemy territory, but in the fact that it was a pleasant surprise to see some of their players shirtless.

It was also incredibly hard not to slip Andre Burakovsky or Tyson Jost your number.

Your pre-game ritual was always the same. Stretch Big Rig and his shins, give Jamie a hassle for needing a bunch of ibuprofen and help whoever needed help when Craig was busy. Only this time, like the last few games since the first time you did it, taping Tyler's ankles were involved in your routine. You didn't think much of it considering that Craig was busy and Tyler was incapable of taping his own ankles, but when all was said and done and you thought about it– Tyler hasn't had anyone else tape his ankles, but you, since that one game.

At least you didn't think much of it until post-game when Tyler came to get them taken off and he said, 'you're my good luck charm, guess you're taping my ankles for good now.'

That sentence hasn't stopped echoing in your brain since he spoke it and now here you were, 30,000 feet in the air and still thinking about it. You and Tyler were sharing seats again and the flight attendants had already come by with dinner– a side salad, some chicken and steamed vegetables. Most of the guys around you either had their lights off to sleep, or were off in the middle of the plane at the cards table playing poker. You and Tyler were the only exception in the back of the plane who had the light on, and that's cause you were getting ready to study.

You took Tyler's bathroom break as the time to set aside your hot coffee and set out your books and notecards again. You unhooked your notecards holder and took out the cards, black ink catching your eye on the blank side of the card. You set down the holder and picked up the stack, turning it over.

Epiglottis

You flipped over the card.

Thin leaf-shaped Valve that keeps food and liquid from entering the lungs.

You stared at the card, putting it down with the rest and spreading them out. Every card was filled with the same handwriting, each term and definition matching. It wasn't exactly chicken scratch, it was slightly neater...almost as if the person who wrote them had taken their time to fill them out. Tyler sat down in the seat beside you, sighing and looking down at your tray. "Oh shit."

You looked at him and then back at the cards, stacking them back together. "Did you fill out my cards?"

"When you fell asleep, yeah. I felt bad because you really seemed like you needed to get them done today, but then you fell asleep," he picked up a loose card, handing it to you. "Did I get one wrong? I tried to correct the spelling, but I swear that the book doesn't have English in it."

You looked back down at your cards, adding in the one Tyler handed to you and smiled, taking note of just how patient he must have tried to be, in order to not make your cards look like crap. "Thanks. For letting me sleep on you and for filling out my cards. That makes it a lot easier to study."

"I could help you study too...if you want? Like, quiz you or something?"

You blushed at his offer, appreciating it but also not knowing how the studying could exactly work. "Oh uh...actually, it's a labeling test. So I'd have to not only define the terms but uh, locate them on a chart of the human body."

Tyler bit the inside of his cheek and then stood up, holding his arms out to his side. "Label me then."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and he just nodded. You stood up, handing him the deck of cards. "I'll go ask Dave to see if he has some tape tucked away somewhere."

"I'll be right here." He kept true to his word, standing up with his arms out to his side as you walked down the aisle. You turned to look back to see if he had at least reached down to grab his phone, but he was still standing there as if he was afraid to move.

"Hey Dave, sorry to bother you," You whispered, squatting down beside his seat. "You wouldn't happen to have any tape, would you?"

"I knew it'd come in handy one day," He laughed, putting down his iPad and reaching into his backpack and bringing out some athletic tape. "Do one of the guys need it? I told them to make sure to get whatever taping they needed to be done before we left the arena."

"Oh no, it's for me," You replied, standing up and nodding your head towards the back. "Tyler is helping me with my test and he's being my human label dummy."

Dave turned back and laughed as Tyler was still standing there. "Alright, I don't know how you managed to get Seggy to do school work, but good luck!"

You gave him a polite smile before making your way back to your seat, cautious not to wake anyone up or bump into anyone's seat as you did. It would be considered a miracle if any of these grown men knew how to travel on a commercial flight, seeing as their legs and arms were extended into the aisle like nobody's business. You scooted by Tyler with the tape in hand and reached for your coffee, taking a sip. "Do you need a sip? I can't have you falling asleep on me, now."

Tyler seems to consider your offer before nodding his head and reaching for your coffee. His fingertips brushed against your own, and you weren't sure if the warm feeling in your chest was from the coffee or your hands touching. He gave it back and stood up a little straighter, puffing out his chest. "Alright, I'm ready."

"Who knows Seguin," you said, shuffling through your cards and picking one. "Maybe you'll learn something from this."

"You as my teacher? Now that's something I wouldn't pass up." He replied, smiling at you before nodding down at your cards. "What's first?"

Studying with Tyler wasn't supposed to be that much fun. At least you didn't think it was supposed to be. During the first round of going through your cards, every word that you read off, Tyler looked lost and confused. Even going as far as to say 'wow, I didn't know that had a name' whenever you taped the location onto his clothes. The second time around, a few of the boys around you were starting to wake up and wanted to take part in taping 'funny-sounding words' to Tyler. And if they didn't take part in the educational or the fun aspect, they sure as hell took part in taking pictures for their social media platforms, making fun of him. By the beginning of the third time around, when it was almost time to land in Dallas, Tyler was starting to pick up on a few words, even pointing to their locations on the two of you.

You were more awake than tired by the time the plane landed and it was time to say goodbye to the boys for the night. Tyler, being the gentleman you never thought he had the capability of being, helped you pack of your school stuff and even put your flashcards in order. "You know, for someone who was constantly yawning during the game, you sure do look wide awake."

"That's what three cups of coffee can do to a girl, Seguin." You checked your phone to see the time and noticed it was almost 2 A.M. "I think I can hang out in our dorm lounge to get a few more hours in before calling it a night."

"Why don't you just come over to my place?" He asked, walking ahead of you off of the plane. "I had a lot of fun helping you study, plus I'm sure the dogs would love to see you."

Study, yeah. Because that's the first thing that popped into your mind when he asked you to come over.

"Are you sure?" You asked, showing him the time. "It's kind of late and I don't want to keep you up long."

"I'm always up for a few hours after games anyway. Besides, if we get tired, you can just crash in the guest room." He said, sliding his phone into his pocket. "So what do you say? Need a study buddy or are you going to be a lonely nerd in your dorm lounge?"

"Hey Y/N, I'm going to your dorm if you want a ride," Big Rig said, taking your attention from Tyler and pointing to his car. "Kennedy texted me and said she was still up, so I figured I'd go say hi."

You smiled, thanking Kennedy for somehow coming through and giving you an excuse to go to Tyler's house, even if she didn't know she did it. "No, that's okay! Tyler said he'd help me study some more. Tell Kennedy I said hi and you two stay safe."

Big Rig blushed and got into his car. You watched him drive away before turning to Tyler who had already dug his car keys out of his pant pocket. "Ready to study, nerd?"

"If by study you mean, am I ready to cuddle with the puppers while you read off my flashcards? Then hell yeah I am."

You followed him over to his car and he opened the door for you, flashing you his signature kid-like smile. "Get in loser, we're going to learn some psychology."

You laughed walking towards the car, ducking down and getting in. "It's Physiology and Anatomy, but it was cute that you tried."

"What can I say?" He asked, leaning down into your side of the car and shrugging his shoulders. "The cuteness comes naturally."

He closed the door, leaving you alone in his car for the few seconds that it took him to walk to the drivers' side door and the only thing you could focus on, was just how hard your heart was beating against your chest.

#tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin one shot #tyler seguin writing #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars one shot #dallas stars writing #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #nhl writing #hockey imagine #hockey one shot #hockey writing #ldyk fic #my writing

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dc41896 · 4 years

Text

You Again (2)

Pairing: fratboi!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None💕!

“You and Mr. Party King Evans. That’s reality show content I’d pay good money to see,” your roommate, Yasmine, laughs while making lunch for the both of you. Moving the sizzling ingredients about in the pan with the wooden spoon, she puts half in your bowl before dumping the other half in a bowl of her own.

“I feel like you’re enjoying my torture a little too much,” you jokingly glare placing both the bowls on the table along with forks and cups of juice.

“I promise I’m not, just knowing both of your personalities I can tell this project is gonna be very interesting.”

“Speak of the devil,” you sarcastically smile picking up your phone to read his message.

Chris aka Thorn in my side😒: Hey so I know we were supposed to meet today at 3, but something important came up. How about 5 or 6?

Y/N: Yea sure that’s fine. Just remember to actually show up

Chris aka Thorn in my side😒: Excited for our study date are we sweetheart😏😉?

Y/N: 1. It’s nowhere near a date 2. Don’t ever call me that again 3. I’d be more excited to get my wisdom teeth out love☺️

Chris aka Thorn in my side😒: 🤣🤣 ok boss 👍🏼

“From the way your thumbs are furiously tapping and the way your forehead looks, I take it things are not currently well,” she laughs before taking another bite of her grilled chicken and vegetables.

“Nah he’s just being annoying as usual. He said something came up so we’re meeting around 5 or 6.”

“Oh boy...”

“It’s fine though, I understand he has a life and other obligations. As long as we get this project done that’s all that matters.”

“Exactly, that’s what’s most important,” Yasmine smiles raising her cup up along with yours to clink together. “And I hope you remember that after I show you this.”

Turning her phone to face you, you see a Snapchat of Chris at someone’s pool doing backflips off the diving board followed by people cheering. Next was a picture of him with a beer in hand and arms around two bikini clad girls as they both kissed the cheek they were closest too.

“Are you kidding me right now?!?! How is that important?!”

“Remember what you said as long as the project gets done that’s all that matters,” Yasmine adds putting her phone away. “And yea partying instead of going ahead and getting this work done was irresponsible, but he also said he’ll be here later so technically he did fix it.”

“For his sake he better show up because if I fail because of him, it’s not gonna be pretty,” you respond returning back to your food.

———

Three hours and counting you had been waiting on Chris to show up but heard nothing from him. Once in the study room, you texted him which floor you were on and to let you know if he had any problems trying to get in the building. But after an hour of no response, you tried texting, and even calling, to see if he was still showing up. Yet here you were still waiting on a reply or some sort of news.

Finished with your other assignments, you start packing up your laptop and supplies convinced that he probably wasn’t going to show, and that you’d end up doing this project all by yourself while he gets the benefits of a good grade.

“Alright let’s start this project,” he announces walking through the door and slouching down in the chair across from you as if he just came back from a bathroom break.

“Um, excuse me?”

“I know I’m late and I’m sorry-,” he starts as you laugh in disbelief leaning back in your chair.

“It’s not just because you’re late, which if you knew you would be it’d be nice of you to, oh I don’t know, text or call someone back! But then the fact that you claim to have to do something important, and I see you living your best life at a pool party while I’m here trying to gather all the info we need for the project and I’m just supposed to brush that off like it’s nothing?!,” you yell.

“Ok I’ll admit me going to the party was a bit irresponsible, but I had to be there for Kappa Chi obligations.”

“And what would that be? Flirting with girls? Perfecting your backflip?!”

“Jeez what were you doing stalking me? If you wanted to be invited all you had to do was tell me sweetheart,” he smirks arms crossed on the table in front of him.

Before you could unleash the rage you felt bubbling at your surface, his vibrating phone momentarily diverts both his and your attention.

“Hey I hate to this this to you again, but I gotta go,” he responds picking up his bag as he stands up.

“Are you serious?! You blow me off for some party, then you show up three hours late, and now you have to go again?!”

“Listen I’m sorry and we can meet later, this is honestly really important,” he explains stopping beside you.

“Whatever Chris just go,” you sigh, arms crossed in front of your chest as you look down.

“Y/N I really am sorry and promise-,”

“I honestly don’t want to hear any of your promises right now,” you interrupt, looking up at him with a mix of anger and hurt in your eyes.

Pausing as he opens the door to leave, he wanted to say more, but knowing he was the last person you wanted to hear from right now, he held his tongue as he exited the room and not too long after, the building.

———

Beams of sun shining through the blinds of your window, you lie in bed enjoying the coolness of the covers and extra hours you can rest.

And you’d be able to even more if your phone would stop loudly vibrating against the wood of your bedside table. Seemingly every time you tried to ignore it and drift back to sleep, the vibrations would start again bringing you back to square one.

Letting out a loud groan, you look to see Chris’ name light up your screen as you swipe open your phone.

“What?,” you answer obviously annoyed.

“I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I really need your help.”

“Chris if you think I’m helping you get away from your one night stand think again.”

“Ha ha she’s such a comedian,” he sarcastically responds making you roll your eyes. “That’s not what I need help with, just please come down.”

“Wait come down? Are you outside the building?” Rushing out of bed and into your common room, you peer out the large window to see him leaning against his dark blue Jeep Wrangler with all his windows down.

“....alright just give me a minute. I swear this better be an actual problem Evans.”

“Thank you, thank you! I promise it is,” he answers, his large smile being felt over the phone.

Coming out the building in your grey tights, graphic tee, and slides, you see him in the drivers seat as you walk up to his car peeking your head inside the passenger window. “Ok so what’s the problem?”

Pointing towards the backseat, you see a blonde toddler sitting in a black car seat playing with an alphabet handheld toy as she lightly kicks her legs back and forth.

“Please tell me you didn’t end up with a random baby like in the hangover?,” you ask with a hand on your forehead.

“What? No that’s my niece. I said I’d babysit until my sister got back, but after last night I quickly realized I honestly have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Wris I hungee,” she speaks up tapping her mouth with her hand.

“Chris you haven’t fed her yet?!”

“I tried but she wouldn’t eat! Then she threw a tantrum when I wouldn’t give her c-o-o-k-i-e-s so I was getting frustrated and put her in the car so she could calm down and thus why I need your help.”

“And what makes you think I know what I’m doing?”

“Because you want to be a nurse so I’m sure you’ve learned something about kids. Plus didn’t you say you volunteered with a pediatrician last semester or something?”

“Look who’s stalking who now,” you smirk slightly tilting your head as he rolls his eyes lightly chuckling to himself.

“Not my fault I remembered your ice breaker sweetheart.”

“But you still remembered it all this time though,” you add making his niece giggle from the backseat.

“Whatever can you just get in please? You heard the lady she’s hungry and I don’t know how long she’ll stay calm.”

“Alright, let me run upstairs and get my stuff.”

“And bring your backpack so we can work on the project!,” he calls after you just as you reach the front double doors.

“Whatever you say boss!,” you reply with a salute as you walk inside to go to your room.

“Pwetty!,” his niece smiles as she points towards the door you just used.

“Yea stink she is. If only her attitude was always pretty.”

Taglist: @crushed-pink-petals @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @itshinothey @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged and don’t see your name, only wants to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chris evans #chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader

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supernaturaltfwmeme · 4 years

Text

Between the lines. Part 8

Summary:The reader is at Stanford with Sam and a few other familiar faces. She gets introduced to Dean, an FBI agent for help with a paper. The two grow even closer when Dean learns about her daughter and her troublesome situation. Check out the other parts here.

Pairing: Dean x reader.

Warnings: Language, Domestic abuse.

A/N: tags open!

Later that day you were discharged and you were currently sitting in Deans car on the way to his house, after he came by the hospital to pick you up and a quick stop at yours first to grab some stuff for you and Amelia.

“Dean are you sure about this?” You asked as Dean stopped the car, parking outside his house.

“Y/n/n, will you stop worrying already. I’m sure. You and Amelia are both welcome here. I have a couple spare rooms anyway. They just weren’t suitable for guests yet.” Dean laughs.

“Please tell me you didn’t go out and buy beds and things just because we’re staying here.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ok I won’t tell you that.” Dean smirked, getting out of the car. You followed him inside and he led you upstairs passing his room and showing you to the room next door and dumping your bag on the very obviously brand-new bed.

“You can stay in here and Amelia can sleep in the room just down here.” Dean said leading you to a room down the hall. He opened the door dropping Amelia’s bag on a bright purple bed, the room didn’t just have a bed in it like yours though. There was a wooden desk in the corner and next to it a set of clear draws filled with all different kinds of kids art supplies. There was also a small toy chest at the end of the bed with a few older looking toys in them.

“I hope it’s ok. Charlie told me her favourite colour was Purple. And she really liked to draw. She doesn’t have to play with the toys it’s just a couple things I had laying around from when I was a kid.” Dean explained, clearly rambling. You started to tear up making Dean panic.

“Y/n, if you don’t like it, it’s ok we can return it and get her some...”

“No Dean I love it. Thank you. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for us.” You smiled at Dean, before leaning over and kissing his cheek.

“I figured even after you don’t need to stay here, I could still watch Amelia from time to time. Give you a break you know.” He smiled at you, relieved that you liked it. Before you could answer you tried and failed to fight of a yawn.

“Go take a nap y/n, before Sam drops off Amelia. You need it.” You nodded and left to go to your room.

Dean sat downstairs on the couch pulling out his phone to a frequently used group chat; Bitches. Of course Charlie named it.

Dean: Just got back from the hospital, y/n is taking a nap but she’s ok.

Charlie: oh thank god.

Sam: She nearly wasn’t though guys. That was a real close call.

Charlie: Yeah, I don’t like it. De are you sure there's nothing you can do without her agreeing to press charges?

Dean: Unfortunately not, unless I see it happen or there is actual proof it was him that did it, I can’t do shit.

Sam: It sucks. What’s the point in having a badge if you can’t use it for shit like this.

Dean: I know Sammy. We’re just going to have to do something that involves me leaving my badge at home. She clearly won’t come to me about it in a professional capacity. She still won’t even leave the jackass.

Charlie: Guys you have to remember she’s been taking this shit for 2 years all alone. We didn’t even know she had a child for fuck sake. In y/n/n mind he was the only person who was there for her when the rest of the world shut her out. She needs to be reminded she has other places to turn, that she’s not trapped. But how do we keep the fucker away from her in the meantime.

Dean: He’s not back till after Christmas now anyway, but you leave that to me kiddo.

Later that evening Dean was looking over take out menus when there was a knock at the door.

“Heya Sammy, hey jess.” Dean said stepping aside to let Sam, jess and Amelia in.

“Y/n is still asleep. I’m just about to order pizza, You guys in?”

“Sounds great de.” Jess smiled sweetly.

“Uncle Sammy, I want my mommy.” Amelia said pulling in Sam’s arm.

“She’s asleep right now Ame but we can invite your aunt Charlie over if you want.” Sam said softly.

“Yay! I like Aunt Charlie. She's silly.” Amelia giggled.

“Already on it.” Dean called from the kitchen, sending a quick text to Charlie before calling for pizza.

Around half an hour later, you woke up and heard laughing coming from downstairs. You made your way towards the sound and saw all your friends sitting around.

“Mommy, You’re awake.” Amelia said running over to you, drawing everyone’s attention to you.

“Hey y/n/n. How you feeling?” Jess asked you, after you picked Amelia up.

“My head hurt’s but other than that I'm good.” You were all interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Pizza’s here.” Dean said going over to the door and grabbing the food.

You all sat around talking and laughing for a few hours just genuinely having a good time. Everyone avoiding the topic they all really wanted to talk about because of Amelia. Around 10 you couldn’t hold back a yawn and Amelia had already fallen asleep on the couch. Sam, Jess and Charlie decided to call it a night. Leaving just you and Dean.

“How you really feeling?” Dean asked as soon as he shut the door.

“My head is pounding and I'm exhausted.” You admitted.

“Get to bed y/n/n.” He smiled at you. You stood from your seat and went to pick up Amelia.

“Leave her, I got it.” Dean said scooping Amelia up in his arms and following you up the stairs. Dean walked past you and into Amelia’s room putting her down on the bed and tucking her in before leaving and shutting the door. You’d been watching Dean with Amelia all evening he was a natural.

“You’re good with her.” You smiled, leaning in the doorway of your room.

“What can I say, kids love me.” He joked. You couldn’t help but remember the conversation you over heard him having on the phone.

“You just don’t want any?” You asked.

“Of course I do. Hey I feel like I need to explain something to you.” Dean said leading you into your room and sitting you both down on the bed.

“About that conversation you overheard the other day. When I was on the phone.”

“Dean you don’t have to explain anything.”

“Yes I do y/n.” Dean took a shaky breath before continuing. “That call was with my ex Lisa. We were together for 3 years. She was cheating on me the whole time, she found out she was pregnant about 2 months ago. The timing didn’t fit, the kids not mine. She’s a typical rich bitch, I can see that now. Her parents will definitely cut her off when they find out, so she wanted me to marry her and pretend the kid was mine so she could keep her money.” You felt bad for him. Dean was sweet, how could anybody treat him like that.

“Sounds like a real bitch, you deserve better.” Dean chuckled to himself.

“Well you see there’s this girl, she smart, funny and beautiful. Got a pretty cute kid too. But we’ll have to see how that plays out.” You blushed. Dean stood up stretching before leaning over and kissing your head.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

Tags: @waywardaardvark79 @vicmc624 @frackinawesomeninja @carryon-doctor-lock @supernatural508 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @rvgrsbrns @bluecornflowers @tranquility-or-chaos@Jensensammy @idksupernatural @supersassyprobablysad

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diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “What Death Tastes Like” Part 3

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

You’re done sampling the food that J brought over, quite annoyed he lied about the crepes; it was probably the only reason why you opened the door for him. Or maybe it was a different motive that you don’t like to think of because… what’s the point anyway?

“Crane said he added a new ingredient to your capsules,” The Joker brings it up. “I have no idea how he was able to get Cromyxillium since it’s just in experimental phase; I suppose he has awesome connections,” your guest chews one last bite of cashew salad.

“I know, he texted me but I didn’t answer back… I’m mad at him… I’m mad at everything these days,“ you admit and The King of Gotham piles up the empty styrofoam boxes, calculating how much money Scarecrow spent on a product that might be able to improve your condition.

Y/N watches him absent minded, too preoccupied with her problems to realize The King of Gotham is attentive to her words.

“I used to help my dad develop my remedy, still nothing works and he entirely immersed himself in this ridiculous task of saving me from terminal cancer. He ignored Evelyn for weeks until she left: she understood what he was doing up to a certain level; when it became an obsession…” and you sigh, aggravated by your father’s stubbornness. “I told him he has to patch up their relationship; I don’t him to be all alone after I’m gone…” you sulk and J grabs the containers, dumping them in the trashcan near the table.

“Yeah, Crane will probably be very lonely without you…” and J stops his innuendo when he comprehends how it sounds. “On a positive note,” The Clown Prince of Crime stretches, “I’m actually here to ensure you’re ok taking the capsules containing the new ingredient. Your father asked me to and I am notorious for being this…this selfless person ready to offer my services,” J over exaggerates his ability to sympathize with your situation. “He also warned me not to try anything funny. I don’t understand why I’m not allowed to share any of my funny jokes; doesn’t make any sense,” the distorted interpretation of your parent’s threat almost prompts Y/N’s smile.

“You probably pushed for this visit, taking advantage of the fact that me and my dad had a fight, hm?” you bluntly describe the truth and J can’t defend his absurd statements because your cell phone starts ringing; you glare at the screen, debating if you should answer or not.

“Is that him?” The Joker inquires and you nod a yes while deciding to accept Scarecrow’s call.

“Hello…” you sneak out on the patio as J figures he should walk to his car in order to retrieve the duffel bag fixed in advance for his sleepover.

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

Your conversation lasted for about 20 minutes thus The Joker jumped in the shower lacking any type of permission from Y/N; perhaps it could be the reason for your abrupt intrusion in the cozy bathroom.

“Can I take a shower with you?” he hears your question and for once J is uncertain of his reply, yet he is not the kind of person to show reluctance no matter the context.

“It’s your place, isn’t it?” he grumbles and distinguishes your silhouette beyond the steamy glass panels quickly stripping your clothes.

The Joker continues to scrub his skin, undisturbed by your request: he simply doesn’t care if you join him or not.

“I’m using your stuff,” J announces and your arms suddenly hug him from behind.

“You can use whatever you want,” your lips kiss the dragon tattoo on his back a couple of times and he doesn’t even turn around to peek.

“I gotta wash my hair,” he mutters and you brush your lips against his shoulder, sweetly offering:

“I can wash it for you.”

“I got it!” Y/N’s demand is cut off immediately; you’re so humiliated by his lack of interest you curse the dumb choice of being so straightforward: it’s not the first time he shows zero attraction towards his daughter’s best friend.

Your arms release the embrace and The Joker reprises his important chore while hearing you fumbling with toiletry items: you are finishing off your routine at an increased speed, willing to exit out of there as soon as possible.

A few minutes of silence, then The Clown Prince of Crime finally pronounces an insolent remark:

“I hope you saw a naked man before, Y/N! I don’t wanna be accused of traumatizing you. If it really makes you feel better, you can wash my hair.”

No smarty pants attitude rendered upon him and J gazes where you stood only to notice you’re gone: after quietly tiptoeing out of the shower, Y/N took her medications and prepared for the night ahead; she plans for J to sleep in the second bedroom at the small cabin, thus she will spend the night on the couch in the living room, watching TV until she’ll doze off.

“Miss Crane,” The Joker emerges from the bathroom in a t-shirt and shorts. “Are we cuddling on that couch or do we have further arrangements?”

“Spare bedroom,” you grouchily mumble, getting comfortable under the blanket.

“I thought we’re cuddling buddies,” he pretends to be offended at your affirmation mostly since pushing the limit is encoded in his wretched DNA.

“We’re not cuddling buddies!”

“My bad,” he grins. “I guess I was misled by your actions at the mansion.”

He has such a nerve bringing that up!

“I’m not the type of person to force myself on women,” The Joker innocently informs, “but can I watch TV with you? I’ll camp on the floor by the sofa which is my way to hint I need a bunch of soft blankets to pile up so I won’t break my back. I mean, it’s not very nice of you to deny me access on the couch; must I remind you I granted you free passage in my bed when you asked for it?”

“Are you for reals?!” an increasingly fuming Y/N shrieks slowly rolls out of her relaxing nest. “You were horrible to me and then tried to make it better just because you worried I’d tell Emma or my father! Well, rest assured: I’m not a snitch! You truly don’t have to extend your good will to such lengths on my account! It’s not necessary, ok?! You don’t have to drive here to bring my capsules, you don’t have to bring me food. You don’t have to do anything!!”

“Watch your tone!” J growls, displeased with your feisty attitude. “Do I have to remind you who barged into my privacy to take a peek at me naked?”

Your eyes are big at his derogatory insinuation: he’s playing stupid regarding the incident.

“I barged into your privacy?!” you shout, aggravated. “How can…”

“Umm…” The Joker interrupts, “…your nose is bleeding.”

You didn’t even detect the blood trickling down your skin and you touch it, confused. The King of Gotham watches you a few hesitant steps before you unexpectedly collapse to the ground. “Hey!” his voice echoes in and out. “Hey what’s wrong?... … Can you hear me?”

There’s this high pitch taking over your mind and you can barely discern bits and pieces of a conversation J is carrying with your father. You’re not even aware you’re in a moving vehicle, that’s how much you lost grip on reality.

“What’s in for me if I bring her over, huh?”

“I compensated you!! Two Nightmare ampoules, a small fortune on the black market! Get off your fucking high horse and bring me my daughter, would you?!” an exasperated parent admonishes.

“Maybe I will stop the car and let nature follow its course,” The Joker fights back Scarecrow’s affront, yet your dad has plenty on his plate .

“If you do such a thing and she dies, I’ll hold you responsible and trust me when I say you don’t want me to hold you responsible!!!” the serious ultimatum prompts your chauffeur to take a sharp turn on Highway 68. “Am I on speaker?” Jonathan checks without given his apparent opponent a chance to rationalize his behavior.

“Yes!” J snarls, pissed at the stupid rescue mission entrusted to him.

“Y/N, hang in there! I’ll get stuff ready by the time you arrive, alright?” Scarecrow encourages his daughter, afraid of the severe consequences of the experimental drug she ingested.

“Mmmm,” you moan in your daze, not being able to respond.

“Keep her alert; we can’t have her sink into a coma! I have to formulate an IV mixture to flush the Cromyxillium out of her system!”

“She’s completely out!” The Joker states although there’s nobody at the other end of the line anymore. “Who’s we anyway?!” he huffs and elects to give it a go regardless. “Y/N, how many kids we would have had if we were married?... … … … … I think the precise answer is at least 4, am I correct?” J blabbers on since you don’t engage in the conversation. “Great…I’ll be held liable for your demise,” he bites his lower lip, vexed things didn’t shine too bright for him; in fact, no matter how hard The Clown tries the blame it on somebody else, he dug his own hole on this one.

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

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in the darkness, but the sharp poke in your arm makes you groan in pain.

“I’m sorry honey,” your father whispers. “We have to keep the IV for an hour, then I can take the needle out.”

“D-daddy…” you find the strength to stammer. “Am I… am I dying…?”

“No… No… I won’t let you die…” Scarecrow kisses your forehead, upset you don’t seem fine at all. “It’s my fault, I didn’t think you’ll have a reaction to Cromyxillium, not the way I bound the particles with the rest of the molecules.”

“You didn’t test it?” The Joker intervenes into a dialogue he should steer clear off.

“No, I didn’t have time to test it!” Jonathan hatefully stares at the man he wishes to strangle on the spot. “I don’t have time for anything!! Do you understand? My daughter is dying!! I’m not even that kind of doctor yet she’s breathing nevertheless due to my capability of manipulating compounds! Y/N would be 6 feet under with traditional chemotherapy, which proves I am doing a few things right!!! If Emma was sick, I’m certain you wouldn’t run your mouth like you do now!”

J wiggles in his chair, definitely about to erupt at Crane’s justified tirade.

“I’m so cold…” you utter, the ruckus adding to your general discomfort.

“That’s normal, it means the intravenous remedy is working; I’ll bring more covers,” Jonathan strolls out of the room only to gasp upon his return: J is snuggling with you, totally oblivious to your parent’s stupefied question: “What the hell are you doing??!!”

“I got off my high horse and I’m keeping her warm,” J stresses the importance of his random deed. “It’s not cheap thought! I demand…”

“You demand nothing!” Scarecrow covers you with more layers, irritated The King of Gotham has the audacity to milk out benefits in these circumstances; the latest wants to protest Jonathan’s vehement denial while not being conceded the prospect of such luxury:

“Dad…” you reach out your left hand and he sits by you, keeping the shaky fingers on his face. “Did… did you call Evelyn?” you barely blink, exhausted from the intensive treatment.

“I will…”

“You have to; I don’t want you to end up alone… She loves you… You could have more children with her… or at least one more…”

Jonathan Crane inhales, flustered his daughter is worried about him when she should worry about herself.

“I could have more kids, but don’t you know you’re irreplaceable?” he kisses your wrist and pretends to brush off the agony building up in his heart. “Don’t cry honey,” he wipes your tears, then casually shoves The Joker’s arm since is wrapped around your waist. “Your help is no longer required,” Scarecrow hints and his advice falls on deaf ears: J has important news that might switch the balance in his favor.

“I also called Emma on my way here to report about Y/N’s ordeal; she’s cutting her trip to New York short and I received strict orders to make myself useful until her arrival. Now, unless you want to deal with another pain in the ass besides your offspring, I suggest you tolerate my presence!”

Jonathan curls up in a ball on the vacant side of your bed, relieved to see you’re napping. "I didn’t feel the urge to punch someone in ages!” he sneers.

“Likewise!” The Joker barks too from behind your shoulder. “How come she passed out again?” he switches the subject and Jonathan explains without any trace of enthusiasm.

“I included a serum that promotes nice dreams in her IV bag: she’ll be in a deep sleep and envision things she likes.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. I’m sure I’ll pop up in there then,” the excited Clown Prince of Crime emphasizes to your father’s disapproval.

“I said things she likes!”

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

10:12am

“Hello Miss Crane,” you are greeted as you narrowly open your eyes; it takes a minute to recollect from the dizziness and confusion of last night’s episode.

“Where’s my dad?” you lick your dry lips, noticing J by the windows.

“At the lab; he’s consulting with some doctors or whatnot and left me in charge,” he effortlessly forges half a truth with half a lie.

“Where’s my phone? I want to talk to him.”

“I think I left it at the cabin, I was in a hurry to get you here.”

“You drove me?...” you skeptically interrogate.

“Yeah, you don’t remember?”

“No…” you stretch while touching the band aid placed where the needle used to be. “Where’s Emma?”

“On her way back to Gotham; she called several times and tried talking to you but you were out.”

“Was I?...”

“U-hum,” J shakes his head. “I reckon she promised she’ll assist with your birthday party next week and she’s terrified you’ll kick the bucket in the meantime. She didn’t precisely articulate these sentences, but I‘m her dad: I can read in between the lines,” the proud Joker blurs out, loving the shocked look you display. “Am I invited to the celebration?”

You signal a no and he’s not discouraged by your vehement denial.

“Can I bring Mara?”

“Absolutely not!!!”

“Oh, so I’m actually invited but not her?”

He takes advantage of the speechless Y/N, setting up the stage for his own benefit:

“I can work with that,” he glares at you, gratified. “However, I can’t show at a party without a date; it’s not dignifying for a man of my social status. This leaves us with only one solution.”

“NO!” you protest because you can estimate his proposal.

“Cool, then we have a deal Miss Crane: you got yourself a date!”

“I already have a date!”

“Who?” The Joker smirks.

“Sam is my date for my birthday.”

“Sam as in Bane’s son?”

“Yes,” you squirm under the blankets, uneasy at the concept of having J as partner for the upcoming bash.

“Pfft,” he huffs. “That’s a huuuge load of baloney,” your own words from last night are used by the obnoxious green haired menace. “I’ll pick you up Wednesday at 3pm, ok?”

“The party is here at my house!”

“Ok, then you pick me up at 3pm.”

“I’m not picking you up!” you scoff at his nonsense.

“Damn, you’re hard to negotiate with,” The Joker scratches his chin. “Fine, I’ll bring myself here.”

You contemptuously stare at him, appalled he keeps on insisting when you declined his plan. On top of everything, the whole universe is getting the confirmation today that Jonathan Crane’s genius is frankly skipping a generation since you enunciate:

“Don’t be late!”