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hallhaley23 · 4 months

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Bella & Paul Fanfic

What if Bella actually moved on after Edward left…what if she actually found something that could be just as good or better…

This is my fanfic take on the New Moon story if Bella got over Edward.

In the beginning, I had mentioned that I had never given much thought to how I would die, how it would be noble to die in place of someone I loved and although I still hold true to that notion, things have changed.

I had been in love with someone that I thought truly loved me back and I was sorely mistaken; and even though it has taken me time to realize my clear misguided infatuation, I can safely say now that it was never more than that: infatuation. Because here, in this moment, as I truly face death, I don't find myself at peace or in a space of being noble. I'm angry and I'm terrified. I look down at the man that was meant to be forever, his dark hair matted with blood, his dark eyes pleading with mine to not go, to not do what I have to do in order to make things right and I am run through with a cacophony of emotions: fury that I didn't have enough time, joy that I had any of it, laughter at the sheer irony of everything, and bittersweet sadness that this is actually the end. I slowly walk away from him and look up into the crimson irises of the three that are sealing my fate as I know it, and I don't feel peaceful or noble. I just wish I was strong enough to snap their necks, to make them feel as helpless and vulnerable as I feel as a human being. I stand before them and I want vengeance for what they've done to my life, to his life, hearing his baritone voice behind me pleading as he bleeds on the ground to run, to save myself, begging me....

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it has come to this. I wish I could change how everything started but then maybe I wouldn't have met him, the one I was meant for in the end; and even though my life ends at only eighteen, I'm glad I got to experience some of it with him; but this has always been how it was meant to end; my karmic debt paid in blood for being seduced by Edward Cullen. Enough is enough. The wolves have done far too much for me and I'm tired of hiding; tired of being the one people feel obligated to protect.

I was just glad to know the truth in the end. To find him and really know what love feels like, to feel the freedom that true unbridled desire can relinquish from an anguished heart and to know that despite the fact that I am mortal, the experience of feeling blissful extraordinary love, that alone will live forever.

***

I woke up this morning feeling like shit.

Although that has been the case every morning since Edward left and I collapsed into a void of despair, today's shit feeling is acutely related to the amount of whiskey I imbibed last night. The throb in my temples is pulsating so much that I think my eardrums may rupture and my mouth waters with nausea. Every time I tell myself, "I will never drink again," after the aspirin kicks in, I have a shower, and some coffee, I'll be back at the bottle when the day is done.

One would think that after a few months of self-pitying and wallowing, I'd find a way to get over things, but I am remarkably stubborn I suppose. Perhaps I've found that being this darker, more melancholy version is actually a truer version of myself. Edward left in September after my eighteenth birthday (further solidifying my hatred of celebrating my birthday), and seeing as it is now Thanksgiving, I should be getting over things, so Google says.

Jacob has been coming to see me, which I suppose is nice. He has this remarkable way of making me laugh despite my insistence on being miserable. Maybe it's his ability to sit in it with me and just be present that makes it a little easier for me. He doesn't really try to make things better, which is something I appreciate. I can't tell you how frustrating it is to hear, "you're so much better off without him," or "you are too good for him," or "he was an asshole anyway, you deserve better," from Jessica, Charlie, and Angela respectively. And I totally get they're just trying to help, but it's not .

It doesn't help.

It doesn't fix how I'm feeling. I am still a mess. I'm still depressed and angry. None of those things are a comfort, so when Jacob sits next to me and says, "you look like shit," I fucking appreciate it. It's a fact. I do look like shit because I feel like shit. I wouldn't be surprised if that is all I'm comprised of at this moment. So I appreciate being seen where I am, and not what others hope I will be someday. Because the truth is, I don't know if I am going to be okay. I may never be right again and Jacob is fine with that version of myself, which is what I need right now. I'm grateful that at least one person is okay with this crooked amalgamation of bitterness, darkness, self-pity, and disgrace; it helps me breathe a little easier.

I get myself dressed even though I feel like it's kind of useless; Charlie made me go back upstairs and change out of my usual 2XL T-shirt and sweats that have holes in them which is fair I guess. So I slip on a pair of jeans that used to fit perfectly but now hang loose over my hip bones, and a black hooded sweatshirt, flicking the hood up over my hair that has gotten long and a bit matted. I don't care anymore, if I haven't made that abundantly clear already. I slip on my Doc Marten's and head downstairs.

I walk into the kitchen where Sue Clearwater is cooking, because God-forbid Charlie tried to cook Thanksgiving dinner and burn the house down and if the cooking was left up to me, we would be having alcohol which a part of me feels like Charlie wouldn't be too mad about, as long as he was the only one drinking and it was beer.

I sit down at the small kitchen table, while Sue opens the oven, and a plume of steam blows her hair back as she pulls out the rack to baste the turkey. The TV is on in the living room and Charlie is commentating the football game with Harry from the couch, occasionally taking long sips of their beers. Seth Clearwater is also in the living room on the recliner playing on Charlie's old GameBoy. I couldn't tell if he was focused on the game or confused with the heavily pixelated 90's technology. I am not surprised that Leah isn't here. I am certain she hates being around me and I am totally fine with that; I hate being around me too so I totally get it. I think maybe the bigger reason she hates being around me is because we mirror each other's misery a little too perfectly. Sue explained that Leah's fiancé left a while ago and she was still angry. So, I don't fault her for not wanting to be around me and my worthless self-loathing.

I hear a car pull up and see that Jacob and Billy have arrived which makes the tightness in my chest loosen. I notice they have a third person in the car and I stare at him as they make their way out. It's a guy, close to my age, maybe eighteen or nineteen, with cropped black hair, a muscular square jaw, and a shadow of a beard. He gets out of the car and I notice his height and body mass are impressive. He's taller than Jacob with more muscle mass, he's wearing a gray T-shirt under a black hoodie and blue jeans with black biker boots. I don't see the details of his face fully until after he helps Jacob get Billy into his wheelchair. The three of them walk up carrying a few bags most likely full of side dishes and beer to the front and I see that he's good looking: high cheekbones, clear and discerning brown eyes with long black lashes and a full mouth that is set in a tight line as they approach the house. Jacob opens the door without knocking as usual because they are basically a part of the family now.

"Hey!" Jacob says as he pulls Charlie up in his wheelchair over the front steps. Why Charlie hasn't installed a ramp yet is beyond me.

"Hey! Happy Thanksgiving!" Charlie, Harry, and Sue holler in unison as they enter.

I get up to see if they need any help with the bags.

"Hey Bells!" Jacob says, wrapping me in a big hug and I pat his back lightly, smiling weakly as he squeezes a little too tight.

"Can I help with anything," I ask, and Jacob bats my hand away.

"We got it," Jacob says, as Billy wheels himself into the living room to join Charlie and Harry to watch the game. Charlie tosses him a beer from the cooler by the couch.

The new guy shuts the front door behind him holding several bags in his hands and our eyes meet, and I feel remarkably awkward.

"Um," I say as he looks at me, mildly bewildered, "I'm Bella," I say hoarsely.

"Paul," he says back, his voice clear and baritone.

"Oh yeah, sorry, this is my buddy Paul Lahote. His Dad is away during the holidays so I invited him," Jacob yells from the living room, stuffing cans of beer in the cooler.

Paul's eyes narrow slightly while he looks at me and I wonder for a minute what he's thinking.

"I'm just gonna..." Paul says, gesturing towards the kitchen and I realize that I'm blocking him and I move out of the way, muttering my apologies. He sets the bags down on the kitchen table, removing a few bags of rolls, a few different pies, and a bag of onions.

"Oh thank goodness, I just ran out," Sue says, grabbing the onions and taking them to the cutting board.

Paul turns and looks at me again, his eyes surveying my face for a moment and then makes his way past me to the living room. Jacob comes up to me and grabs my hand.

"Have you been outside yet today or are you doing the 90 pound shut in thing again today?" Jacob says, arching his eyebrow and smiling.

"It's what I do best though, Jake," I say, my lips upturning slightly.

"Yeah that's not disturbing or anything," he laughs and I silently agree with him in my head. "You do look better today though, not one hundred percent, but like...maybe forty percent."

"Thanks? I think?" I say, but again, he has surmised it quite perfectly. Maybe forty percent. Maybe. My eyes slid over to see Paul watching us as he leaned on the fireplace mantle, my brow furrows and Jacob interrupts.

"I want to talk to you about something," and before I can argue, he drags me through the front door, through the front yard, and the clomp of my doc martens get louder as we reach the sidewalk from the frozen grass. It's really ridiculously cold outside and somehow Jacob seems completely unfazed. We walk down the sidewalk closer to the line of trees going into the forest and I look at him, seeing that he was working something through his brain.

"You okay?" I say and then he meets my eyes.

"Can I take you to a movie Bells?" he asks. I started laughing because it was a funny joke in my head, however I see Jacobs face fall and then I shut my mouth and my face blanches; I know it does because I feel myself get dizzy and I know somehow I've gotten paler than I already am and he sees it.

"Oh," I whisper, feeling really bad for my initial reaction. God I fucking hate myself so much.

"At least you're clear," he says, his jaw clenches as he stares into the forest.

"Jake, I'm really sorry, I'm an asshole," I say, feeling my chest and stomach tighten as I realize how much of an idiot I actually am.

How could you have laughed? What is the matter with you?

"No it's fine," he says, and flashes me a disingenuous tight smile which looks wrong on his face and it's making things so much worse.

"It's not," I reply, and I take his hand, but his hand is tight and unyielding. I turn to face him grabbing his shoulders, "I'm not ready for anything like that yet, Jake," as I squeeze his shoulders, his eyes look like a genial mask covering up a pool of hurt swimming beneath the surface.

"I just thought, maybe," he starts, hesitating finishing his thought and my stomach twists again, worrying about what he's going to say next, "I thought maybe I could be better...than him."

"You are better than him," I say, and I mean that with all of my being. He will always be better than Edward, but... "but Jake, you can never be like what Edward was to me. I don't think I can have that with you or anyone." I take a deep breath shuttering as the air fills my lungs, "I think I'm broken and your friendship is the only glue holding me together right now."

He is watching me, surveying me as I speak, the pools of hurt beginning to wane into something warmer; more himself which is akin to the summer sun and hot afternoons. "I get it...I think," he says, and I can still see it, the hurt that's there but also the truth of what he and I are that begins to settle into him a bit. I hope that it's enough for Jake because it's everything to me right now. I need him desperately as my best friend, as the only anchor that's holding me to reality, the only warmth I really have in this cold vacuum of space that is my life post Edward Cullen. If I don't have Jacob, I don't have gravity and I will float away never to be seen again...and I think he sees and feels that too.

"I didn't mean to make it weird," he says, scrunching his nose.

"You made it super fucking weird," I say back, nudging him as we walk back to the house and we both laugh, "and Jake," I say, looking back at him and he met my eyes, his warm kind smile back on his face where it always belongs, "please don't leave."

"You won't get rid of me that easy, Bells," he says, nudging me back and I nearly fall over because I weigh practically nothing now; a gust of wind could bowl me over. He catches me before I hit the ground, "Jesus, Bella you need to gain some weight, you waif."

"So I've been told," I say, righting myself as he helps me back up, "but I hear skinny chicks can do really well as models, maybe I can just do that."

"There are so many things wrong with that statement, also gallows humor, Bella? I thought you were better than that," he laughs.

"Everything about me is gallows humor," I laugh back, sort of being honest.

We get back inside and Paul, Seth and Sue are setting the table in the small dining room. They've set out all the plates and flatware, glasses, napkins and are now setting out all the food.

"Oh good, you two go help Paul and Seth set everything out," Sue says, dressing the turkey on a large cranberry red charger plate and Jacob hurries into the kitchen to grab a giant bowl of mashed potatoes with his bare hands, "careful that's..." Sue watches in astonishment as Jacob carries the plate with his bare hands into the dining room, "hot, okay then."

"What can I grab, Sue?" I ask and she hands me a pitcher of water.

"Go fill up the water glasses," she says, "okay everyone peel away from the TV and come sit down at the table."

A few groans resound from the living room as the TV clicks off and Harry, Charlie, and Billy all make their way into the dining room.

I fill up the water glasses and notice that Paul is watching me as he takes a seat between Seth and Jacob. My eyes flick back to the water glasses as I continue my task, feeling slightly awkward. Why does he keep doing that? I know I look like a nightmare but did he have to stare, Jesus.

And now he is getting up again.

"Excuse me a sec, Sue," Paul says and retreats out to the back yard.

"Hurry up," Sue yells after him.

I'm curious. I shouldn't be but I am. So I go out after him hearing Sue say, "don't be long, we're gonna start dinner!"

I don't see him in the back yard so I walk to the side yard and see him standing with his back against the house, the heels of his hands at his eyes and he exhales a heavy sigh and this...looks very familiar to me. I'm intimately involved with this type of sensation: overwhelm, panic, longing...but why is he feeling it? I try not to move but he takes his hands away and sees me watching him and I freeze. I don't know how to explain myself.

He stares back at me, sighs again, and removes a flask from the back pocket of his jeans; he takes a long drink and then extends his arm, offering me the flask. I stride up to him, take the flask and tip it back. It's whiskey and now I think I may like this Paul guy.

"I hate the holidays," he says in his baritone voice, the sound vibrates along the surface of my skin, which is...interesting.

I nod at him taking another sip, feeling the burn of the alcohol singe all the way down to my empty stomach.

"I'm not a fan either," I reply, my lips in a tight line as I hand him back his flask.

"You look like how I feel," he says, "shit, um...that came out wrong."

"I don't think anyone can feel as bad as I look," I laugh back, appreciating his honesty, "I get it though."

He looks over at me, and I notice his eyes have a bit of green mixed in with the brown. The waning late afternoon sunlight makes the green look remarkable.

"What do you get?" he asks.

"Whatever is happening with you looks familiar," I say with an unsteady exhale, replaying the last few months in my mind like a depressing gag reel, "the flask is a great idea, I might have to steal that."

"You're gonna steal my flask?" he laughs, taking another sip, "I'm kinda fond of it."

"Steal the idea I mean," and I smile, "it's a nice flask though, don't tempt me," feeling warmth in my chest and it's odd.

"Guys! Dinner!" Charlie calls from the sliding glass door. He kicks out of his lean from the side of the house and follows me as I turn back to the door.

"Thanks for the drink," I say, looking back to him, "it was nice, we should do it again sometime." Where the fuck did that come from?

His smile reaches his eyes as he laughs and my God his smile. He was handsome before but when he smiles, I don't think I've seen anything more beautiful, which I didn't think could happen after Edward.

"I'll take you up on that," he says as we walk back into the house.

What did I just do? But for some reason, I don't feel like how I felt with Jacob. It felt...okay. It felt weird, but right and warm. I walked in and sat down by Charlie taking a sip of water and realized I was still smiling.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Charlie asks, taking a big spoonful of mashed potatoes, "not that I'm complaining."

I look up at him and shrug, my eyes landing on Paul for a moment, seeing he was still smiling also

#fanfiction #twilight fanfiction #bella swan #paul lahote #twilight au #bellafinallygetslaid #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #my fic #paul and bella #sexy content #smut #first person pov #shameless #how do i even tag this #hot as fuck #imprint

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #Bruce Banner #bun writes #I haven't written shit in a month and boom #6k words in three hours #i don't like the ending #I'm bad at them #okay #okay .

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Note

Hi!

I've been reading some of your posts and I am a big fan🥰

I was wondering if its okay, maybe you could do a Loki x reader where they were best friends and denied each others feelings all the time and when Loki was brought to the TVA, he found reader there and lots of angst and fluff🥰💞😁

Have a great day😁😁💞💞🥰🥰

Nothing Gold

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: thank you so much for enjoying me work I am so glad that makes me so happy! thank you so much for the request. I really liked this idea and I think it came out okay - sorry the ending it a bit abrupt! thank you again :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki had to do a full-on, dramatic as hell, double-take while walking through the TVA library. He had come down to look for a variant file but had apparently ended up finding something else. More specifically — someone else.

You. You. You.

You, his best friend. You, the sweet girl he had a never-ending crush on. You, the one who had just gone missing one day.

Loki could never forget. It was like something wouldn’t let him.

He had invited you around the palace for breakfast before you left his chambers for the night. You two had been up late reading together. You frequently popped over, usually claiming to stay for a few hours, just enough for Loki to read to you some verses of a poetry book, but those hours got longer and longer each time.

Next thing you two knew, it was nearly morning and you needed at least a few hours of sleep in your own bed. He had walked you out, asking you to come back for breakfast in a few hours. You happily agreed, giving him a quick hug before parting. Loki didn’t want to let go. He remembered that detail very well. He wanted to pull you back in his chambers, just hold you for hours. Days. Months. Forever. But he didn’t. He let you go, watching as you made your way back to your modest home. He never realized that would be the last time he saw you.

Well, actually, it technically wasn’t. Because he was staring at you right now. You were at a table near the back of the library, head buried in some files but he could still recognize you. Could always point out that lovely, long hair and those soft, gentle hands. You were always a stark contrast against him.

Loki just watched you for a few moments, completely and utterly confused by the situation. The shock was wearing off and now question after question filled his brain. How did you end up here? What had you done? Were you okay? A million thoughts came over him but his legs had their own agenda. The next thing he knew, he was approaching your table. He almost didn’t know how he got there.

He stood opposite of your sitting form. You weren’t noticing him, apparently very invested in the file you were studying. Loki had to admit, that was quite like you. You were always one to get lost in the words, way deeper than he did.

Eventually, Loki cleared his throat, hoping that’d do something. Slowly, you lifted your head, brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him from head to toe. You didn’t recognize him, Loki could see it in your eyes. He was just a variant turned agent to you. Something in him felt like it was stabbing his heart over and over again.

"Can I help you with something?" You hesitantly asked but your voice was still so sweet and kind, just as Loki remembered. You were far more patient and soft-spoken than he was.

He said your name like it was the greatest plead but you didn’t react. Loki didn’t know what to do then, realizing you were you but you also…weren’t. His face fell.

You were getting uncomfortable. "I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who that is—,"

"You don’t?" Loki couldn’t help the hurtful gasp he let out.

"Sir, I’m sorry…" Your eyes began searching around frantically. Something was going on. You were getting scared, way past uncomfortable. You wouldn’t look at him anymore.

Loki said your name again, much forceful than the last. You jumped. You weren’t directly responding but Loki could see something in your eyes. He said your name again. Then again. Like it was the only thing he knew. Your eyes met one another intensely, hypnotically.

After maybe the sixth time, you snapped. You jumped out of your seat, breathing heavily, scared, surprised. It had all happened too fast Loki was also taken back. You two were more than just staring at each other. Your wide eyes were taking him in.

"Loki?"

He felt so relieved to hear his name just float off your lips. It was as sweet as he remembered. Like a little lullaby. The stabbing in him stopped.

Loki nodded. "It’s me."

"What…" You looked around as if you had no idea where you were. And maybe you didn’t but Loki hadn’t expected your name to just snap you out of it. This opened a lot of questions for him but he didn’t have time. He raised his hand, cutting off your words.

Loki nodded towards one of the bookshelf aisles further away from everyone. You nodded in understanding, following him down the rows.

Once you were a safe distance away, Loki wasted no time collecting you in his arms, his head buried in your shoulder. You were surprised for a moment at the gesture but then you fell into it naturally, like you had just hugged him yesterday. And really that was how it had felt. But Loki knew better. You had been gone for so long…

"Loki," you mumbled his name, your head pressed into his chest. "What is going on?"

Loki stilled. "Why don’t you tell me what you know."

You scoffed, breaking off the hug. You were a sweet one but Loki was no stranger to your tiny temper. You put distance between you two and Loki allowed it despite how much it hurt.

"What I know?" You repeated, folding your arms. "What I know is that I’m standing in a library with you." You looked around at the space, noting an actual lack of real books. "What kind of library is this anyway? How did I—,"

"Do you remember anything before you got here?"

Your gaze dropped as you studied your shoes. They were some nice black flats but Loki knew that wasn’t your style. You were not the business causal type, usually pleased with the feeling of Asgardian silk gowns.

Something was coming to you as you let out a soft gasp. "I was walking home. We-We had just finished a poem written by that Midgardian… Gosh, what was his name? Winter or something—,"

"Frost," Loki mumbled. "His last name was Frost and you enjoyed his poem about how nothing gold can stay. You found it relatable. I’ll admit, you may have been onto something."

A light had gone on within you. "You thought it was pretentious." Your gaze met Loki’s once more. "I called you a fool and laughed. Then we saw daylight breaking and… and I had to go home. I missed my bed. You wanted breakfast in a few hours. I agreed to come back."

Loki nodded, encouragingly, but your words had fallen off. "What happened next?"

You shook your head, that blank expression washed over you again. "I don’t know."

Loki let out a sigh and leaned back on the shelf. "Do you remember anything after that?"

You looked back down at your outfit. At least the pencil skirt was nice. "Yes," you admitted. "I was hired here. I report on variants to protect the sacred timeline." It sounded to Loki like you were reading a script. What the hell was going on here?

"But you don’t know how you got from Asgard to…here?"

You sighed, a bit annoyed. "How did you get here?"

The snippy temper was back. You were still you. Loki could’ve kissed you, a feeling that had come over him before but was suddenly more intense than ever. He would, he promised himself. He couldn’t leave you again without doing so.

"I had a bit of an…incident."

"Really? You? I never would’ve guessed," you said, the sarcasm on your words dripped heavily. Loki gave quite the dramatic eye roll. You let out a little giggle.

"Yes, well, never mind what got me here, I am here," he said, motioning towards nothing. "And I am assisting with the hunt of a variant."

"You’re helping them?"

Loki scoffed. "Don’t act so surprised." A beat. "I didn’t have much of a choice."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile but failed miserably. Loki had missed this. If he focused really hard, it almost felt like you two were back in Asgard, lounging around, talking about nothing. Teasing one another. His heart was aching.

"What do you know about the variant?" You eventually asked.

Loki glanced away. "It’s me."

"You?"

He shrugged. "Well, a version of me. Another variant."

You slowly crossed the aisle, coming to stand right next to Loki, your shoulders pressed against one another. Loki’s breath hitched just a bit. He would never get used to this.

You asked, "Well, what have ‘you’ done?"

Loki resorted back to his witty humor. "Nothing good as you could assume."

"This mischief of two Lokis is unthinkable."

Loki let out a laugh which you followed suit with. You two were laughing over nothing in this random library in wherever this place was. He could barely understand it and you were absolutely clueless. But the moment of laughter was good, was familiar. Too bad it couldn’t last.

"I’ve missed you," Loki admitted after the laughter had faded out unceremoniously. You looked a bit surprised at the confession.

"Truly?"

He nodded.

You blushed and looked down. "I’d say I missed you too but I don’t feel like we’ve been apart. How long has it been?"

When Loki wasn’t giving an answer, you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was staring at you quite intensely. You shivered under the gaze. It was an expression you hadn’t seen before, he hadn’t allowed you to see. It was one full of love and interest and adornment.

"Too long," was all he said before his lips were on yours. Loki finally took what he had been craving and it was happening in the TVA library. The fucking TVA. Loki’s head was still spinning with worries about this whole thing but, slowly, he got lost in you. In your lips and softness. Your hands grasped his shirt as you deepened the kiss — you. You wanted more from him. And he was happy to give.

His hands caressed your sides lovingly, feeling and holding you in the way he had always dreamed. It was better than anything he could’ve conjured. It felt right and real. Good and… Too good. Too powerful.

An alarm was going off somewhere now. You hadn’t seemed to notice it, still captivated in the kiss, but Loki was aware. He forced you two apart, reluctantly. You looked at him, ready to protest, but before you could ask anything, Loki was placing a hand over your mouth.

Footsteps were approaching. They were coming towards your aisle. Whatever had happened here wasn’t good, something had gone haywire. Had he broken the timeline? Was that even possible here? Loki didn’t know but what he did know was there was an army on the hunt for them. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hand, looking for an escape route.

"Loki," you finally were able to speak, keeping your voice hushed as you two maneuvered the maze of shelves, "what did we do?"

"We love each other."

"Love?"

Loki stopped despite there being no time to stop. "Am I wrong?"

You didn’t answer. That was all he needed. Now to only get the hell out of here. Loki couldn’t tell if his encounter with the TVA had been a blessing or a cure as he held you close to him, refusing to lose you again to whatever trap this place planned to lay.

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igotathingforvampires · 3 years

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Marcus x F!Human Reader | A Tug of Fate | Wildest Dreams Taylor Swift Inspo Babble

TRIGGER WARNING: CANONICAL TALK OF WANTING TO UNALIVE DUE TO LOSS

CANON DIVERGENT: DIDYME IS NOT MURDERED BY ARO BUT KILLED IN RAID

It was a rather bleak day, granted every day was bleak if it was Marcus' opinion. He didn't need sleep, hadn't for the last six thousand years, though the last thousand had made him want to close his eyes and not wake up.

If he had his way-- which he wouldn't thank to his blasted-- loving-- albeit pushy brothers and sisters.

Marcus was of the mind that after living as long as he did, once you lost your anchor there was no point in one even being here. And ever since she was gone. Lost to him and the world in an array of violence and diamond dust ash. He hadn't had the ability to even fathom a world without her.

And so, he had trudged, along and quiet, alone and miserable, weighted by the thousands of years of killing, betrayal, ruling, and chaos. But the one thing that had been a constant was the sweetest voice in the world calling his name.

As he stared out at Volterra from his rooms, he exhaled an unneeded breath, it was utterly bleak-- truly so. How was he supposed to keep going, for what another thousand, maybe more if humans didn't obliterate them all with their nuclear nonsense.

Marcus leaned over and placed his head in his hands staring at his feet. There it was again that incessant tug that had been happening for the last three days, pulling out his window into the city.

A chain had formed and he had no concept as to where it would lead, this phantom taunting from his own gift. Ghosts of the past, perhaps he was finally losing it.

But then as he turned his head, a flash of a sound.

A bell like laugh followed by words of humor. "Come on, you can't even look in there? Awe! It's so beautiful! Hm...seems kinda familiar..."

The voice trails off-- and the jerk of the chain is painful.

The voice had sounded so disappointed.

Marcus glared at the silence outside his windows past the gardens he and his love had built to the wall where the voice taunted him. Beckoned him, called him like a sailor to the sea to drown his misery in waters of oblivion.

With more determination than he had in a millennia he strode into his closet and got ready in a flash.

---

Your hand traces the walls of the gigantic palace like structure, the stone feels-- hm, it's hard to place, in fact this entire place feels just-- familiar.

You had booked a trip out of sheer randomness, flinging a dart at the board and it had landed in Italy, bringing a bigger map you had flung another dart and here you were-- Volterra.

What were the odds that this place had been in your dreams?

No one knew, none of your tour group, none of the people who jostled you along because it was time to check out the plaza and shops.

"I wonder what was in there..." you mutter softly unaware of the eyes watching you carefully till you turn and see a shadow partially covered by a walkway, sunlight carefully filtering through the greenery and terracotta roofing. "Hello?" You call smiling at the tall figure. "Hi! uh sorry I don't speak Italian but are you needing anything?"

The shadow moves back a few steps. You frown, and shrug, "well okay! Bye-bye!" you wave and prance back to your group.

---

Marcus had paused, you were not what he was expecting. Watching you in a sun dress with the setting twilight of Volterra glittering off your bangles and sun kissed skin.

He knew you.

But did you know him?

He followed carefully, watching as your group circled the plaza and fountain. Your head turned and caught sight of him, and you froze. Blinking quickly as if to clear your head. "Hi there!" A beaming smile crossed your face, honey eyes gleaming. Oh he knew those eyes. It was impossible to miss the specks of brown and tawny spindles of circles that would glitter with happiness.

Not your red eyes...oh no...not yet...

But did you remember.... you were not who you were...you were a new person... not weighted down by the sorrows of the past, a second chance to a clean slate of happiness....was that the Gods designs?

Had you come back?

Marcus sees you step forward, "excuse me. Do you live here?"

I thought heaven can't help me now Nothing lasts forever....

But this is gonna take me down

----

Your stunned. He's utterly beautiful. A tragic beauty you think, Romanesque features, tall build and so utterly still like a Sentinal posted at the gates of eternity waiting-- what was he waiting for...

The man nods, "yes, I am." His voice is pitched deep enough to rattle in your ear drums, and strike something deep in your soul. You're confused for a moment.

"Oh! how lovely, it's a beautiful city! I was about to go to a tour of the--" you pointed at a lovely lady gathering people but he is suddenly right in front of you.

"That is not a good idea, I hear the tour is quite dull."

"Awe...but it's for the Palazzo..." you pout a bit, "is it really that dull?"

He's watching you, as if trying to figure something out, "that is actually where I work, would you like a private tour?"

You smirk, "You're not a serial killer are you?"

He bows, half at the waist, a elegant-- out of time-- movement as he offers you a hand, one that engulfs your hand entirely as it closes on your fingers. "You shall be in the best care cara mia."

You realize he's freezing, and something clicks, another thought that this feels all too familiar. Those onyx eyes, the soft smile on his lips, the light lingering in his gaze as he looks straight into your soul.

----

I can see the end as it begins My one condition is...

Marcus has given you a tour of the entire Palazzo, hanging to keep the guard and you separated, and you away from the throne room away from the screams.

But as he comes to the garden he pauses. You're chattering away asking so many questions and tugging on his sleeve. He smiles at the happiness you have-- the bond is there, the same....the bond he had missed, but it's stronger, it's pure and it isn't weighted by the tainting of sorrow or the ever present torture of wanting to leave immortality.

He couldn't make you happy....you had been so bereft with immortality.

How were any of them to know?

But now? Marcus watched as you perused the gardens smiling at all the flowers. The setting sun sparking off auburn and black in your hair.

You glanced over your shoulder at him and smiled.

Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your wildest dreams

----

---

"Can I ask you something?" you pause and glance at him.

"As I've said you may ask me anything and I shall answer it for you."

"You're going to think I'm crazy." You watch him pause, this mysterious guardian you've acquired. "D-do...do I know you?"

He raises a brow, but you can see it, the twitch of an emotion that is barely held in check.

"I... I feel like I do...and it's odd. I've never been here, I've never met you before but I--" you swallow feeling a deep welling of pain in your heart. "I missed you...." you don't understand and you feel tears clog your throat as you instinctively reach for him.

But he's caught your hand, a desperate, ecstatic look on his face. "I don't even know your name this time...." He whispers as he presses a cold kiss to your palm.

And his voice is a familiar sound Nothing lasts forever....

but this is getting good now

"it's y/n..." you whisper.

A wide smile. "....little one....Do you remember my name?"

You pause, and the answer floats up to your lips like bubbling champagne from a uncorked bottle.

Sweet, drunken, loving, everything, nothing, the world, and the universe wrapped up in heart strings of red.

"Marcus...."

Suddenly you're embraced, a cold kiss to your lips and the empty ache that had presided your whole life in your heart--

Was suddenly gone.

#wildest dreams #Marcus Volturi #Babble Writing

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wrestlingisfake · 2 years

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The WRLD on GCW preview

A lot of people are calling this the biggest show in GCW history. It's going down in New York City, in the legendary Hammerstein Ballroom where so many big ECW and ROH shows were held.

The show begins on Sudnay, January 23, at 8pm EST, with a free pre-show at 7. You can stream it live on Fite.tv for $24.99. Or, in a first for GCW, you can order it on traditional pay-per-view, but I don't have any idea which PPV providers are carrying it because I haven't dealt with traditional PPV in years.

Jon Moxley vs. Homicide - Moxley is defending the GCW world title. It's his second defense since winning the title on September 4, and it's also his second match since he entered inpatient alcohol rehab in November. Homicide won a 20-person battle royale on January 1 to earn this title shot.

Homicide's been around forever, working in the indies, TNA, and ROH. His biggest accolade is probably when he beat Bryan Danielson for the ROH world title in 2006. But his most high-profile appearance was a brief cameo on AEW's Grand Slam show in September 2021, where he helped Moxley and Eddie Kingston against Lance Archer and Minoru Suzuki. I can't say he's a mainstream star, but he's got that "your favorite wrestler's favorite wrestler" vibe going for him.

Every GCW match is no-disqualification in general, so I expect a wild brawl. However, it's not clear to me if the typical GCW deathmatch plunder (light tubes, doors, panes of glass, barbed wire) will be set up. If so, both guys will not be shy about using that stuff.

The real story here, though, is the return of Moxley. He looks to be in great shape and everybody's hyped to see him get back into the swing of things. Booking him in a 2000-seat building right now is like when a huge band decides to play at a little hole in the wall for fun. I was at the show where he won the GCW title in September, and the atmosphere was insane. And that was a surprise appearance--these fans are waiting for him, so it'll be an even bigger pressure cooker.

I can't imagine GCW can swing permission from AEW for Moxley to lose the title to Homicide right now. Then again, I have no idea what would make more sense--none of the AEW crossovers have gone at all like I would expect. All I know for sure is that these two guys will have fun beating the piss out of one another.

Jonathan Gresham vs. Blake Christian - Gresham is one of two men who claim to be the ROH world champion, and he's defending his version of the title here. Gresham insists that his title bouts be held under "pure rules," an ROH concept that limits rope breaks and closed-fist strikes to the face.

Christian has only been in the business for a few years, and he's spend most of them working in GCW. He briefly showed up in Impact Wrestling and NJPW Strong as well, but then WWE signed him in February 2021. Then he was Trey Baxter for a few months before WWE cut him in November. On January 15 he won a match against Bandido, the other claimant to the ROH world title, which seems to be the basis for giving him a shot at Gresham's version of the championship.

I've seen more than enough "pure rules" matches to confidently say that the rules get in the way of the actual wrestling. Everything gets reduced to strategy about when to grab the ropes instead of the action in the center of the ring. Maybe this match can prove me wrong. Regardless, I expect Gresham will keep his belt, at least until the unification match with Bandido on April 1.

Matt Cardona vs. Joey Janela - Cardona, formerly Zack Ryder in WWE, has reinvented himself here as the ultimate heel for GCW fans. Last I checked, he still claims to be the "internet champion," the "GCW universal champion," and the "ECW television champion". I doubt any of those belts are on the line. Anyway, after feuding with the likes of Nick Gage and EFFY, it was inevitable that he'd move on to another GCW icon like Janela. I wasn't sure what they were feuding over, but then Cardona got a wedding gift from Joey:

I can assure you that I studied these photos carefully and could find no Coliseum Home Video releases of Wrestlemania IV that might prove they were doctored. I can only conclude that Cardona's wife Chelsea Green was Joey's before she was Matt's.

Anyway, I expect this match to feature the usual "Cardona in GCW" hijinx. It feels like it's been ages since I've seen Janela, so I hope he brings some of his wacky shit to the table. I assume Cardona wins, although that could be to end the feud or to build heat for a rematch.

Jay Briscoe & Mark Briscoe vs. ??? & ??? - The Briscoes are defending the GCW tag team title in an open challenge. They're also the ROH tag team champions, but that title isn't at stake. We probably won't learn who the challengers will be until the match begins.

If the plan is to get the belts off the Briscoes ASAP, I would expect a pretty good surprise team, leading to a good old-fashioned brawl. Otherwise, this could be a way to put two lesser names out there to get the rub of "almost" beating a high-decorated tag team.

But I think the GCW crowd will be expecting Dax Harwood and Cash Wheeler, who have been feuding with the Briscoes on Twitter and recently "invaded" the ROH show on December 11 to attack them. Fans know Briscoes vs. FTR has to happen, but it's not clear where or when. If GCW isn't delivering the match (and if they were, why wouldn't they advertise it in advance?), they'd better have something planned to avoid the disappointment.

I could definitely see an FTR run-in causing a title change. But I could just as easily see the Briscoes-FTR thing staying confined to ROH and AEW. So it's tough to call this one.

EFFY vs. Jeff Jarrett - Jeff Jarrett made his big return to the ring by...hold on, you won't see this coming...he did a sneak attack and hit Effy with a guitar shot. I should probably explain this for anyone under the age of 30. See, in the early 90s, Jeff had a country singer gimmick for a couple of years, and it sucked so he reinvented himself a lot, but for some dumb reason he never stopped using guitars as a weapon. He thinks it's like Triple H's sledgehammer.

Anyway, Effy did a good promo about how he's not getting suckered into one of these "current guy makes the returning legend look relevant" storylines, so he refused to wrestle Jeff. Then Jeff made it personal by...spoilers...doing a sneak attack and hitting Effy's friend Allie Katch with a guitar shot. And so the match is on.

I'm not sure why GCW is doing a Jeff Jarrett storyline in 2021. But since it's GCW I assume they've got something clever in mind. Personally I can't think of anything creative they could do that hasn't been done (or wouldn't be better) with Matt Cardona. But I like Effy so I guess we'll see what he can come up with.

I sure hope Effy just wins, but Jarrett couldn't even put anyone over in his own promotion, so I don't know why he'd start now.

Ruby Soho vs. Allie Katch - I don't believe there's much of a story to this except that Katch has always wanted this match, and now it's finally happening. Soho is basically the Perfect Cinnamon Roll of women's wrestling, so it seems like everyone can't wait to work with her now that she out of WWE. Katch is more like a "looks like a cinnamon roll, but could kill you," so I wouldn't count on sentiment to keep this match friendly.

I tend to think the big AEW star should get the win, but Ruby isn't all that protected in AEW to begin with. A win would mean a lot for Katch, and Soho's the kind of wrestler who would appreciate that. This is one of those matches where I just hope all the wrestlers have a good time.

Alex Colon vs. PCO vs. Tony Deppen vs. Jimmy Lloyd vs. Lio Rush vs. Jordan Oliver - This is billed as a "grab the brass ring" ladder match. So a prize (probably a literal prop of a brass ring) will be hung overhead, and ladders will be placed at ringside for the competitors to use. The only rule is that the first participant to retrieve the prize is the winner. The winner of this match will be awarded the right to the match of their choice, whenever they want it. So it's like WWE's Money in the Bank contract, except it doesn't have to be used for a title bout.

Colon is the reigning GCW ultraviolent champion (the title is not at stake in this match). Deppen, Lloyd, and Oliver are also GCW regulars. Rush is currently with AEW, but apparently not for much longer, so he's popping up more and more in smaller groups like this. PCO is arguably the biggest name here, if only because of his high-concept gimmick, and his run as ROH world champion.

I think it's interesting that the winner may not necessarily "cash in" on a champion. I don't know why you'd allow for that possibility, unless you're thinking the winner would have some specific dream match or grudge match in mind. Another possibility is that Colon gets wiped out in a big spot, and then the winner immediately cashes in on him to win the ultraviolent title. But there's just too much chaos in this match to actually pick a winner.

Bandido & Laredo Kid & ASF vs. Gringo Loco & Arez & Demonic Flamita - Not much to this, beyond booking a lucha match on the card. Bandido still claims to be the ROH world champion, rivaling Jonathan Gresham's claim. Laredo is the AAA cruiserweight champion, and also signed to Impact Wrestling. I saw ASF and Gringo in a tag team four-way back in September, but neither of them really stood out to me. Arez, the "king of strange style," did stand out as one weird dude. Flamita turned on Bandido back in ROH, and I guess they're just gonna fight forever in matches like this.

I've seen enough token lucha matches on indy shows to figure out that the point isn't who wins, so much as showing off some crazy lucha spots and giving the fans a chance to pretend like they're in Mexico and throw money in the ring. I guess I'll pick Bandido's team to win, though.

Grim Reefer vs. Ninja Mack vs. Alex Zayne vs. Dante Leon vs. Nick Wayne vs. Jack Cartwheel - This is scheduled for the pre-show. It's billed as a "Pabst Blue Ribbon Kickoff Scramble," because PBR, the RC Cola of American beers, has figured out that GCW has the trendy underground vibe that appeals to their target market, so they've been sponsoring stuff like this. In GCW a "scramble" is really no different than any multi-person match where the first participant to score a fall wins. What actually makes the match, uh, scrambly, isn't the rules so much as the style. It's usually in the undercard and features a bunch of prelim guys doing lots of flips and highspots. Again, it really makes no difference who wins these things. I'll just go with Ninja Mack since he looks like a ninja.

Pabst Blue Ribbon Kickoff Battle Royal - This is also set for the pre-show. No participants have been announced (we don't even know how many participants there will be), and we'll probably just find out when the match begins. It's the usual thing where the promotion has more wrestlers in town than there are spots on the card, so everyone who's left over gets to do a battle royal. Since the GCW roster is so fluid, though, I have no idea who could be in this thing. There's also bound to be a surprise appearance by a local legend or two. Not much point in trying to predict the outcome.

#gcw #game changer wrestling #the wrld on gcw #jon moxley #moxley's opponent that i probably shouldn't use as a tag maybe #the notorious 187 #you know that guy #jonathan gresham #the briscoes #matt cardona #joey janela #ruby soho #allie katch #effy #jeff jarrett

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everafterkeiji · 3 years

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Song: Hiccup by Valley

Summary: After encountering a road block in your relationship, what path will you take to wind up your broken heart with Iwaizumi?

Pairings: Hajime Iwaizumi x fem!reader

Genre/Warning: angst, cursing

Word count: 6k

A/N: i promise myself i was going to write some bokuto fluff but this song keeps bringing me back to iwa😣 also pls listen to this song<3

2 YEARS AGO

"Tooru."

You call out to him, knees to the floor clutching tightly on your shirt, droplets to the wooden surface. Oikawa harshly closes his eyes, unable to let his eyes rest on your weakened state. He takes a deep breath when he hears your mournful sob. He hears how you took in rough gasps of air so he drops the box from his hands as he rushes to you, his knee scraping from sliding to the floor as he takes you in his chest as you sobbed even more. Oikawa allowing his own tears to fall on your clothes.

He consistently caresses your hair, as your sniffles and cries of pain covered the eary atmosphere of your apartment.

"Tooru." You call out again, he closes his eyes as he leans his head on yours. He dreaded every second that passed knowing he shouldn't be the one to comfort you, but he knew your savior wasn't going to rescue you this time.

"Do you think he'll miss me?"

"I know he will, darling." He assures you, and you wipe your eyes gasping for air once again before speaking again. He lets his hand slide down to your back, patting it every now and then.

"But there's someone better huh?"

Oikawa bites his lip, and you take this silence as an answer you'd never forget. Your lips tug upwards, grinning at how it stung when it came from Oikawa. To Tooru, no one could replace you. He couldn't envision someone to love his brother the way you did and no amount of pain can top how much you cherished each other but he couldn't answer because he was unsure of the motives of the past ace.

"Thank you for staying." You whisper and he pulled you closer as he sighs, glancing at the apartment that appeared in their late night video calls. The same room where he saw the brightest smile that was painted on Iwaizumi, the eyes that carried passion whenever you'd pop up. Visiting the apartment for the first time, he didn't expect how- lifeless it felt.

"Always."

PRESENT

You stretched as you rolled over to the side, used to the ghost of him. You shouldn't be used to it, he should be there to occupy it everyday but every morning you were just greeted by the chilliness he brought you.

The sun sneakily shined upon your eyes as you immediately turn away, expecting the memories to strike your heart like it does whenever the sun flaunted its rays.

"You're mesmerizing." He whispers, his pointer finger inched its way down to your cheek, smiling to himself. You hummed in response, shuffling in the sheets as his heart pounders at the sight of your shoulder peeking through the thin material, with the sunlight decorating your skin with its beauty.

You opened your eyes only to be surprised by how bright the sun was making you close them immediately, giggling to yourself. Who knew his heart could melt even more? Once you've slowly opened your eyes again, you gaze at your Hajime placing a hand on his cheek. With his hand on your chin, he slowly lifts it so your lips meet with his as you smile, running your hand from his cheek to his hair, while closing your eyes at the

He pulls away as butterflies swarmed inside him, pushing back the string of hair that landed in your eyes.

"I love you."

"Forever?"

"And ever after."

You curse at the usual memory that would pass you every morning. It annoyed you how there wasn't a day where you weren't starting the morning this pissed off. Realistically speaking, you adored how your memories would bring life to your body once in a while but when love appears, pain tags along- making it hard to enjoy the only things that could take away the emptiness.

Without him, you could never bring yourself to close the curtains. A habit you've devastatingly brought upon yourself.

Whenever the sun rose and it's light surrounded your room, it was the closest embrace you could ever have from him.

You let your fingers graze over the longing sensation on your lips. Incapable of forgetting how every kiss from his plush lips made you high. Intoxicated with his devotion to you. Each having it's own unique way of bringing you stories from the way it synced with yours.

Do you ever think about coming back to kiss my mouth? You ask yourself, sadly letting go of your lips before stepping into the bathroom.

I miss the taste of you and it's always been you. Iwaizumi thinks to himself as he feels the tingle of coldness from his lips. Like you, he adored the way his mornings were blessings but his room looked like a grave for his emotions.

Curtains closed, not allowing to let the sun peak through since the light in his world wasn't there to bring back the life in his soulless apartment.

He steps out of bed entering his bathroom, brushing his teeth as he rubs his eyes with his free hand.

"S-shush! Baby- baby stop talking!" He says chuckling before placing the toothbrush in your mouth. You two were superbly drunk and it seems like even if Iwaizumi was drunk to the gods, he was still the responsible one in the relationship. You were already about to pass out but his loud laughter kept you awake.

"But Hajime- let me sleep already, you're so noisy bub." You pout but he chuckles again. You turn behind you try and sit on top of the counter but you slid off when you jumped. Iwaizumi shakes his head with a grin as he places his hand on your waist before effortlessly lifting you and placing you on the bathroom sink.

You continue to brush your teeth as he watches how your eyes would droop every second. You spit out the toothpaste before taking in some water and spitting it out as well. You wiped your mouth before bringing your arms outward. "Am I okay now babe? Hajime- honey I wanna sleep." You beg as he rolls his eyes taking you in his arms, like a bride.

"And what about you mister? Did you brush your teeth?" You teased, taking in the aroma of alcohol he had. He bit his lips trying not to laugh but he shakes his head, answering your question. You let out a gasp of betrayal as you hopped out of his arms grabbing the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it, but you hear his cackle making you laugh as well, addicted to how it made you join him in an instant.

"Princess, at least put it on the actual brush. Not the other end you dumbie." He states making you look down on your failure of an attempt. You let out an "Oh." and this brought tears to both of your eyes from laughing endlessly.

He gazes at his reflection through the mirror as he takes a deep breath. It felt like if he'd utter a word, his voice would already crack at the resurfaced moment. He scolds himself for having minimal change in a span of two years. He told himself that he shouldn't wallow in the grief but he endured it for days.

There wasn't a clear way for him to move on, especially when you drained him from all functions of his mind. The only thing that interests him to be happy was that he held on to the probability of meeting you again. Even if the chances were slim to none, he'd take anything that there is left just to see you again.

Though it seems like, he'd have to suffer longer just for it to happen.

Maybe I'd understand the things that you'd do. You whisper as you take another gulp of alcohol. It was Saturday, your supposed late night sessions with Iwaizumi but instead you were solo for today, and maybe for the rest of the years. You bitterly chuckle to yourself as you didn't bother to answer Oikawas call. Your phone kept going off, receiving dozens of messages and missed calls from the setter. He deeply hated Saturdays, or at least your version of it.

Whether you chose to bottle down every beer you had, or scream and get smothered in mascara stains from crying, or even worse, both. Sometimes you'd even mistaken Oikawa for Iwaizumi, and Oikawa allows it knowing it's a way for you to cope. He hated how far away he was but he strictly told you that if you were ever to pursue yourself to go to the club, he'd drop everything and book a ticket to you immediate, of course this was enough for you to listen especially when you'd feel guilty for wasting his time.

Oikawa knew better than to ask for Iwaizumis help. He remained a bridge for the two of you, knowing he'd encounter to different sides. Iwaizumi had him pick up his belongings in your apartment, denying to step foot in your room. In which brought Oikawa to tears at sight of his best friends past lover in such a disaster of a state. So granting Iwaizumis wish, he stayed.

"Why can't you do it? It's your apartment." Oikawa argued making Iwaizumi grunt in pain as he secretly wipes away the tears in his eyes. He sighs before facing the setter.

"She hates me, Oikawa." He says, staring directly at the boy. Oikawa scoffs but stares at the ground, hands to his side formed in a fist.

Is it that bad? He questions.

"Iwa- what happened?" He asks nervously but Iwaizumi only closes his eyes as he tries to get rid of the screams from the previous night.

"I'll tell you soon. When you see her, maybe you'll understand why I can't do this, why I can't face her. Just please do me one favor." The tone in his voice slowly lessens with the last sentence, making Oikawas heart ache for the two of you. Looking at Iwaizumis eyes, Oikawa could see the way he was holding back, but from what? There was a certain change in his usual stare- he looked lost.

Oikawa sits on the couch as he lets his hand gesture for Iwaizumi to speak. He couldn't say anything else but he hoped that Iwaizumi would take his silence as an answer already. Oikawa would do anything for Iwa, and if he was your other half, and Oikawa will do the same to you.

"Save her."

"From what, Iwa?"

"From what I've done."

Oikawa was impatiently waiting for your response but it seems you've decided to push him aside again. Although he was home, the distance from him to you was troublesome so he insisted to call you instead.

He assumed that last year you've gotten better since you spent you Saturday sleeping instead of drinking, but it progressively got worse.

"I mean, one drink wouldn't hurt right?"

He was dumbfounded when one drink turned into hundreds. He knew it was difficult to continue especially when you and Iwaizumi were having the time of your lives everytime. Whether you were extremely drunk, he knew that you two acted the complete same when you were sober. There wasn't a difference, meaning that's just how love worked between you two.

"Tooru- honey!" You shout as Iwaizumi pouts. It was your 4th anniversary and Oikawa decided to call to greet the lovely couple another successful year of your relationship.

"It's shittykawa to you, babe." Iwaizumi teases making Oikawa rolls his eyes. Through the camera, he sees you above Iwaizumi with arms wrapped around his neck without your chin resting on the boys head as he smiles, content to see that 4 years and love didn't change, not even a bit.

"Disgusting lovebirds, happy anniversary to you both!" Oikawa cheers as you giggle, blowing a kiss to him for greeting you two.

"Thank you Tooru-" your words were cut off by a gasp of realization as you shake Iwaizumi. Hajime takes in your excitement as he shakes his head at your actions.

"Hajime! There's no way you're not making Tooru as your best man- anyway! Tooru! This my official invitation for you to be his best man at our wedding!" Oikawa laughs as he raises his eyebrow to Iwaizumi who had a smirk on his lips.

"Well, I will be overly disappointed if I wasn't chosen. If Iwa-chan declines, I'll be your best man instead Y/N, or if you take my offer, I'll be the groom." He winks to you as you laugh before taking another sip of your drink. Iwaizumi flips off Oikawa and the setter only returns this by poking his tongue out to his best friend.

"So is that right, Iwa-chan? Will you finally bend the knee for the lovely lady?" With Oikawas question, you turn to Iwaizumi as if you were nervous. You bit your lip looking at your boyfriend before he pecks your lips catching you off guard as he looks at you with a smirk.

"I'd be a fool not to." He says making you squeal, as you immediately cover your face in your hands, embarassed by how red you got. Oikawa rolls his eyes, envious at the love you shared. Although, he is joyous that you've made Iwaizumi the happiest man he can be, even if you two weren't married yet, to Oikawa it looks like your relationship will only lead to the altar.

There wasn't a single doubt to that.

"Y/N! I thought you've forgotten how to pick up the phone again." He scolds you but his anger washes away when he sees you with red eyes and sniffling uncontrollably.

"Hajime." She calls out, as Oikawa sighs into his pillow realizing it's another night of him acting as Iwaizumi. He's already heard all the things you wanted to say to the missing boy and he accepted the fact that you'll never have the heart to say it to Iwaizumi himself.

"Why do I miss you, now that you're out of my life?" You cried. Oikawa only rests his chin on the palm of his hand as you continued to pour your sadness upon him. You swing the bottle in your hands before downing another wave of liquor.

"I wanna know what you're doing tonight." You whisper as you take your phone, clicking on Iwaizumis contact but before you could, Oikawa spoke, knowing your next intentions.

"No, not again Y/N." He says but you shake your head your finger threatening to press it already.

"Y/N listen to me, Iwa would have contacted you right now but this isn't the time!" He argued but you scoffed, angry tears brimming in your eyes.

"No! Then when will that time come then! I've been waiting for so fucking long already! It's never gonna happen 'cause he's forgotten me- Fuck!" You shouted, taking Oikawa by surprise as you collapse to the floor once again, Oikawa coming back to the sight of you he wanted to forget.

"Y/N- babe I'm sorry-"

"Enough, Oikawa. If you could've been honest that Hajime's found another, then-then maybe I-" your voice cracks as you stressfully runs your fingers through your hair, gripping it tight in your hands as you let out another doleful sob, breaking Toorus heart.

"I don't know what do anymore." You whispered, your heart shattering in to even more finer pieces. You couldn't even put into words how you've been in torment for years.

It finally dawned on you that you weren't headed to the altar, you were headed in a different path.

Without him.

"Y/N- listen- Iwaizumi-" you ended the call leaving Oikawa stunned as he drops the phone in his hands in frustration and in regret. He decided to visit Iwaizumi, knowing it'd be hard to ever communicate with you again, especially that you've been struck by a wrong thought.

And no one else could handle you the way Hajime would.

"Iwa-chan."

"Oikawa? What is it?"

"I fucked up, I'm sorry."

Iwaizumi held his breath as Oikawa explained what happened. He couldn't wrap his head around the unintentional pain Oikawa has given you.

"Iwa, I'm so sorry." Tooru says, making Iwaizumi close his eyes visioning your features crushing at the idea of him having somebody by his side.

Hajimes eyes would never betray you. The only reflection that stayed in his eyes, was the future that was thrown away.

"Oikawa, hey it's okay, I understand." Iwaizumi says with a soft tone to assure Oikawa. Tooru would never intentionally hurt you, he was there to save you. Even if Iwaizumi didn't ask him to take care of you, Oikawa would do everything to bring a smile on your lips. As much love you have to Hajime, its the same amount you have to Oikawa.

"Leaving isn't bad because you're gonna come back with something even better and that's the best version of yourself."

It's your words that he counted on. He believed that he wasn't being selfish, or prideful. You made him believe that finding himself was enough to get him all the medals, the passion, and everything he wanted. So he'd want nothing more than to give thanks to you.

"Iwa."

Oikawa breaks the silence. Iwaizumi looks at him while biting down on his fingers, his heart beating too loudly at the thought of you.

"Why didn't you call her- not even giving her a proper goodbye." Tooru asks with masked anger in his tone. How could he help Hajime when he's blocking him from the truth?

"Iwaizumi. Answer me. For once." Oikawa begs, but once he's met with the silence, he's never been more eager to give in to anger.

"I just- I can't let it happen again, Oikawa. Not to her, not to us."

"Baby, what movie do you want to watch on Saturday? I've seen so many good ones lately." Iwaizumi turns to you with an exhausted expression. You were arranging the condiments in the cabinet, waiting for his response.

"Can't we- reschedule? I-I have something to go to-"

"You can't blow me off for the third time this week, Iwa." You spat, sick of the excuses. Has it really been three times? Iwaizumi questions as he leans on the couch, letting out a sigh. To which is a response you didn't expect to receive.

"I've been busy." He lied, he may not feel it, but there wasn't a single hesitation when he spoke. You memorize his schedules, his after meetings, the excused he's mentioned didn't even bother to make sense. It hurt how he was able to come up so easily, not even thinking about you'd be able to piece them all together.

"Or are you just tired, Iwaizumi?"

You asked rudely. He looks at you before rolling his eyes, covering your heart in bitterness at his pride.

"So what if I am?"

He talked back, hitting you with a bigger wave of emotions. You slammed the door of the cabinet, marching to him each step mixed with rage and pain.

"You're tired? Imagine what I've been feeling, Hajime!" You shout, volume picking up on your tone as this makes Iwaizumi stand up from the couch, not backing down at the power of your voice.

"Clingy? Needy? Pathetic? Tell me, does that sound any different to you?" He said it with so much disgust, strong enough to make you doubt everything you've fought for.

"So you don't give a fuck? Is that what you're so proud of, Iwaizumi? That you're so fucking insensitive?" He felt a tug on his heart when you called him that. It's been so long since he's heard you say it so- normal. As odd as it is, he couldn't hear his name the same again, especially when it came from you.

"Exactly! God I- Y/N. This is why-"

"WHAT IWAIZUMI!"

"This why I'm so fucking tired of you!" He shouted, not only did it create a barrier in your apartment, it brought up your past barrier that he broke down but now he's the cause of it to return.

"You're just- can you even make it on your own without me? It's like if I leave you'd- lose your shit! We need space!" He was fuming with confused anger as you feel your throat give out. You were shaking, your heart was too fast and unsteady, you weren't the same.

"But space is what you've been giving me! Coming home so late? Standing me up? You don't even fucking realize how many dates we missed!" He scoffs before running his fingers through his raven hair. Taking a step towards you, making you stand your ground as you tilt your head to meet with his empty eyes.

This isn't the man who could love you forever and ever after.

"So what! I've got so many things to do apart from dealing with your shit!" You stare back at him, weakened at how your heart couldn't handle it anymore.

You looked down, feeling the sting in your hands when your nails digged into the skin of your palm. He sits down on the couch, drained from the war full of shouting and the damage his heart was in.

Surprisingly, you sat beside him but there was such an intense distance between you.

He turns to you but chills ran up his spine when he sees how you look like you've agreed to everything he's said, making his eyes widen at the foreign feeling.

This is what he was scared of. Failing to find interest in the same routine, to find the energy to continue like he used to. Being worn out by how repetitive things were even when the love you both had was nowhere near boring.

In fact, it was exhilarating. You were both curious to try things together, that's what led you to even owning an apartment together, planning a future, even planning your marriage that was now a blur.

He trembled. Regret, anxiousness, exhaustion. He didn't expect himself to feel this way, especially to you, who he loved completely but felt a certain drift in his heart. He looks away from you as his eyes trail on the picture of you two. He couldn't hold it in his hands to look at how happy he looked, because he isn't the same anymore.

He's lost his way.

"D-did I..lack something?" She asks quietly. He gulps at her question. It was so heavy to him. How you asked him, questioning yourself in this relationship. With anxious hands, he wanted to reach out for you but his efforts were surpassed when he felt a wall between you and him.

"Am I worth.. to keep?"

Please, baby. He begs in his mind for you to stop. He couldn't register how he couldn't make himself speak. He was holding back too much, terrified that he was going to break you more and more with every word he'd toss to you.

"Then this is pointless isn't it?"

You both look at each other, both met with different expressions in your eyes. Iwaizumi could see how tired you were, how he knew you wouldn't be able to look at him the same way before, since he gave up first. While you can see how there wasn't a single lie in his eyes, the downfall was upon you.

No matter the space you give him, there can never be a spark to bring him back.

He bit his lip, facing the truth. Even he knew there isn't any other way.

"I know what you're gonna say, Hajime."

"Princess.. I'm sorry"

"Just go." It was impossible for him to follow your orders when all he wishes is to stay but then again, he's run out of reasons to.

"You gave up, Iwa!" Oikawa shouts, standing up to the boy. Iwaizumi lets his eyes wonder on the floor because he said nothing but the truth.

"There isn't anything I can-"

He's heard enough. You've asked Oikawa many heartbreaking questions. They were all unanswerable, and it pained him he couldn't give you at least one. He was in pain as much as you were. He hated how stupid Iwaizumi was for leaving you and choosing to cower away. He hated how you blamed yourself and slashing your heart because of Iwaizumi.

The tension has set fire to Oikawa and with years of loyalty between the two, Oikawa throws a heavy punch to Iwaizumi, disgusted of his actions.

Iwaizumi, completely at shocked at Oikawas punch, steps back a few times before his blood dropped on his fingers. Oikawa walks straight to Iwaizumi capturing his collar and pulling the boy upwards, nothing but rage consuming the setter.

"Did you love her then? Don't tell me this bullshit that you can't go back to her. Do you even wanna know what she asks me?" Iwaizumi removes Oikawas hands from his shirt, crumpling it in the process. Oikawa lets out a sarcastic laugh as he looks at Hajime.

"Ah, so you know how much shit you put her through? Then maybe you are an asshole but god- Iwa she loves you so much. If that isn't a good enough reason for you to talk to her, then I'll find somebody else for her." Oikawa threatens as Iwaizumi lets out a sob, nothing but regret that he hurt two of the most important people on his life.

"But what if it happens again?"

Iwaizumi asks, it was the only thing that held him back for returning into your arms. He isn't stable enough to return when the fear lingers in his head. What if he falls out of love? What if he gets tired again? Then you'll never want his presence again. He couldn't master up the courage because he too was scared of it.

He will not go through dozens of years just to be apart from you. He's already lost his mind to see you and Oikawa face the tragedy that he left you with. He felt nauseated with himself. How can he promise you forever when it was out of his grasp?

"Why don't you find out?"

It was a simple sentence that left Oikawas lips yet it brought Hajime to tears. It would've been that easy. If he didn't stay with his demons, then maybe you were here to offset his heart. After 2 years, isn't it too late to realize that he's never really ran out of love? It strengthened, but he was so afraid of battling with you like you did, hating how he was the man who shattered your overall being.

"Thank you, Oikawa."

He whispers as Oikawa takes a seat beside him, smiling that he brought the boy to realize the amount of time he's wasted by being surrounded by doubt. Oikawa pats the boys shoulder, sighing in relief that Iwaizumi was back.

"Always."

You swore to avoid your phone the entire day. As much as you wanted to apologize to Oikawa for the outburst, you just wanted a day of silence since your thoughts never give you the chance. Not only did you promise to avoid technology, you decided to avoid people as well, promising to yourself you'd rather stay inside in order to avoid the envy you had for other couples.

So here you are, tucked in your jacket, wrapped in your blanket waking up from a 4 hour nap. You yawned before squinting when you open your phone. It's 8pm and your stomach was nowhere near happy. Slowly standing up, you make your way to the kitchen opening the fridge seeing absolutely no hope to make a meal. Sighing lazily, you decided it'd be best to just buy some food.

After getting ready, you step out of your apartment as you drive to the place where you usually order. You admired how the moon lit your way. Opening your windows you smile when the cold whiff of air instantly surrounded your car. You loved the way your hair flew in the wind while you listened to the song playing.

Once you've finished your bought dinner, you decided to take a turn in your path. Now that it was late at night, you couldn't resist to visit a place you've been missing.

You take in a deep breath as you leaned on the metal bar, loving the way the view still took your breath away. You were face to face with the nightlights and the busy town below you. Not only was it stunning but it was a place to recall some of your favorite moments with him now that you were out of your comfortless of an apartment.

"Sorry for being late, Oikawa was an ass." Iwaizumi excuses himself as he stood beside you leaning on the rod, smiling once he takes in the lights. He turns to you before removing his jacket and placing it on your shoulders, a sweet gesture that had you blushing every time.

You couldn't refuse knowing he would've scolded you. Instead, you stood closer to him before leaning your head on his arm. With his hand, he interlaced his fingers with yours, as your heart flutters. He takes in your hand, placing a gentle kiss on it as you did the same with his hand making him twirl you in satisfaction. You giggle before landing on his chest as he leans down and places his warm hands to your cheeks as he leans in to take your lips with his.

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, reciprocating his kiss. He's given you hundreds of kisses before, how is this any different than the rest?

He pulls away, as your foreheads touch as you both painted a smile on your lips, feeling a slight tickle to it with how flustered you both were.

"I love you so much." He whispers, the first time he's ever let the three words slip from his mouth. Your hands make their way his hair, grabbing it lightly before nodding happily.

"I love you more, my Hajime."

Who knew that just by saying those three words, it was enough for you to believe in an ever after with him? Maybe you were wrong to fall for it even though he gave you a fragment of your so called forever.

You glanced beside you to see a vacant spot and you let out a disappointed sigh. You take in the sight of your fingers, missing the way it perfectly fit in his and how he held it with so much care, giving you an idea that he'd never let you go. Unfortunately he broke this bond but you still longed for his skin to be at contact with yours again.

You sat down placing your hand on the bench as you close your eyes leaning your back on it. You felt a shift of weight beside you, someone finally accompanying you in this lonely night but you've caught on the familiar scent of the stranger and you let the name slid off your tongue.

"Hajime."

He turns to you in shock that you knew it was him but you open your eyes, turning your head to be faced with the man you've been longing to see in two years. He looked the same, the same face who clouded your dreams. He was certainly your Hajime, the pretty boy you've adored since you were in high school.

Happy anniversary. You silently greet each other. How bittersweet, isn't it? What was meant to be your 6th year, turned into 2 years of avoiding each other.

And as you took in Iwaizumis appearance, he did the same with you. Loving the way your features clicked in his memory instantly. Was it even possible for you to be even more beautiful? To Iwaizumi, it was. He absolutely missed you, but why was his heart nervous?

What do I do? He asks himself. Small talk isn't what you deserved. God- you deserve so much more. Endless hours of talking, his embrace, his love, that's what you missed. He was willing to love you with everything he's got, now knowing he'll never run out of it because he isn't scared anymore.

"This isn't a dream is it?" You asked as you turn back to the sky counting the stars that was above you. He was glad you broke the silence, and he appreciated how there wasn't the same tension before. It felt so- serene and unique. Something he wishes it'd be a good sign for the both of you.

"I can't believe it either." He exclaims making you smile. You couldn't ask him how he's doing, not wanting to drag on a conversation you've waited years for to happen, you couldn't let it be bland and meaningless.

"We were something weren't we?" You asked with a soft smile. Iwaizumi chuckles beside you, as he sits closer to you. The cold air swirling around you two as well as the car noised filling in the comforting silence.

"God, I miss what that's like." Iwaizumi answers as you look at him. You looked down on the floor with tears appearing again, the same as Iwaizumi. You were both craving to hold each other but it didn't sit right to just rush into each other knowing there's so much to unpack.

Maybe it was a bit unexpected that you'd face him this way. Echoing through your ears was the conversation between you and Tooru about how the time never came. Now, you weren't even close to being prepared. You both imagined a proper conversation wherein you two would agree to meet up and talk things out. Yet subconsciously, you came to the same place at the same time not even knowing you'd meet. You lacked strength to bundle the words that you've always wanted to say to him and he felt the same way.

The last time you sat next to each other, that was when you parted. Now, back in the same position, it felt overwhelming. Seeing each other for the first time, both had you shocked and careful of your words. You wanted to scream how much you loved him, and he wanted to hold you in his arms to wash away the bleeding of your heart.

You loved how the universe made you two meet. It was quite painful that it had to be the place where you've shared so many memories with him. You didn't know if this was a blessing in disguise but you couldn't complain when the love of your life was here, beside you.

When he saw you, he felt like the sun shined above him like it did every morning. Where he had an angel to wake up next to, when he couldn't spot a single imperfection in your skin when the sun danced in your beauty.

And you've finally remembered the way his touch would bring you the assurance without words. His unexpected kisses, his sweet embrace, his smile that makes your heart run a marathon.

You're finally here. You both think, your hearts synced in how you've waited for this moment.

With your hand on the bench, he places his hand on top of yours, feeling like it was too fragile to hold but you didn't pull away. He takes in your features in the moonlight as his heart picks up the pace at the feeling that washes over him.

There isn't a barrier anymore.

Having the chance to hold your hand like this, he'll never take this for granted again. His everything, back in his touch, god how lucky he was. Remembering Oikawas words, one thing was clear to Iwaizumi, and that was the fact that he couldn't afford to have another hiccup in your relationship.

"We really fucked up this time." Iwaizumi comments making the both of you chuckle as he intertwines your hands with his, smiles on either your faces now that you've finally found the path to each other.

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

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Hey, so I'm a staunch "the finale was clearly a djinn dream and didn't happen" supporter. But I'm just curious about something that happened in that djinn dream. And that is, when Bobby says "well Cas helped," are we actually supposed to assume that Cas was resurrected? Or were we supposed to assume that, since Jack was only able to become god and fix heaven thru Cas' help, Bobby was just acknowledging the role that Cas played? And Cas is still in the Empty? I know I shouldn't care about the writer's intentions -- and I typically don't. But in this particular instance, I'm just curious. Because I want to know if, after that trainwreck of a finale, if the writers were trying to a) give us one last "fuck you" by not actually bringing Cas back, or were they b) actually trying to give us something in telling us "yes, Cas was resurrected even tho we couldn't/wouldn't show it." Idk if this ask makes sense. I guess I'm just trying to determine how much we were fucked over lol. And I've just been thinking about Cas recently and was wondering about this. Anyway, hope you have a good day 🙃😁

Hello anon friendo! I’ll start by offering the socially distanced high five your stance on the finale merits. :’D

I’m gonna start off by saying that I am also irked that they failed to make even this vague, offscreen potential redemption for Cas clearly and textually canon. LIke, if the intent was for us to understand that Cas was saved from the Empty, they kinda... failed on every level to deliver that. I mean, I personally have chosen to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they intended for it to be proof that Cas was no longer in the Empty, but that’s only because I am so personally horrified by the fact that the way they did address it in canon makes it equally plausible that Cas remained in the Empty forever, and that’s... that’s just too awful to contemplate at all.

Except... I know with my brain that if that was actually their intent, to make it clear to us that Cas was saved from the Empty, it literally would’ve taken one more line to confirm that, and they decided not to do that.

“Cas helped.”

versus

“Cas helped. He’s around here somewhere.”

“Cas helped. He’s helping with a lot of stuff up here now.”

“Cas helped. He’ll probably drop by to see you soon enough.”

but like... any of that implies that Dean will see Cas again, and I guess they couldn’t even allow the implication that Dean might reciprocate his feelings, even post-canon in Heaven when they’re all dead and there’s no actual consequences.

So like... I both give them the benefit of the doubt, AND simultaneously hold the whole thing in contempt. It was the most infuriating and unsatisfying ending in the history of endings, except for maybe Sam’s wig. Like... if anything confirms that Cas couldn’t even be acknowledged from having been saved from what is canonically the worst possible fate, the eternal torment of suicidal depression incarnate, lest Destiel be undeniably confirmed canon, then like... there you go.

But you’re right. This whole finale was Chuck’s djinn dream. Like maybe as a human he was so desperate for power that he went and sought out a djinn and deliberately sacrificed himself to it in exchange for having this one final pathetic dream of an episode. Because that’s what the entire finale felt like. Chuck’s terrible and disjointed worst case scenario win. Depressing all around.

For my own personal mental health, in order to engage with the episode at all (even just to yell about how bad it was), I have to assume that Cas was saved, because the alternative is just too sickening to contemplate. And makes every other character (and especially Jack) into a villain. If Jack had the power to save Cas, then I don’t think for a second he would’ve been able to let him languish in the Empty forever, since the only reason he was there in the first place was sacrificing himself to save Jack... fair is fair, and I don’t think Jack as a character could’ve left him there. Cas had always been the one who believed in him, sacrificed himself multiple times for Jack. And Jack unwittingly saved Cas once from the Empty. It’s unimaginable to me that he wouldn’t have done it again, on purpose this time.

I also find it equally implausible that if Jack did save Cas from the Empty that Cas wouldn’t have returned to Earth, either. So there’s another plot hole for us to consider. There’s just... when you look at the finale as a whole, none of it actually makes sense. So honestly, for anyone with two brain cells to rub together, the best approach is to not think about it too hard and dismiss it via whatever alternative headcanon suits your personal preferences instead. I guarantee whatever fic version of the finale you can come up with will be better than what actually aired. >.>

#spn 15.20 #Anonymous

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kazuwhora · 3 years

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Hey, could I have a Tokyo Rev matchup? If that's alright ☺ I FORGOT TO ADD MY APPEARANCE ALSO I'M SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH 😭😫🙏🏾

Ok so I'm a bisexual girl who uses any pronouns, mostly she/they. I am also around 5'5, I kinda wish I was taller so I could intimidate men with my height 😈 I am a Virgo, although I don't think I act like one. It's probably because I'm an Aries Rising and Pisces Moon. But n e wayz I am an ISFP 4w5 and tbh I kinda tone down my personality depending where I'm at💀 At school, people would describe me as kind, quiet, chill, smart, weird, innocent looking(that completely changes once I start talking because I say weird things. I once told my teacher about how some astronauts had herpes in Space 🏃🏾‍♀️). At home, my family(and friends) would describe as loud(Once I laughed so hard to the point where my mom could hear me outside), crazy, weird, chaotic, dumb(I say a lot of stupid things that make no sense 🤷🏾‍♀️), annoying, a troublemaker, competative, argumentative, mean, chill at times, really talkative although I have a stutter. I have noticed that in both areas, people have said that I'm a people magnet and a good person to be around 😁 When I'm alone I like to read fanfics 😏, listen to music, read my Warrior Cats books and when I'm with my sister or with Family, I love to dance, listen to music, watch anime, play sports, go for walks. I've been dancing ever since I was young, never went to lessons but still performed a lot for School. Most of the time, it's actually what people know me for. With my family, I was known as the Snake Girl for a few years because I really wanted one, I never got one but I do have 5 rats now 🐀 I've always loved animals, when I was younger I made a list of all the animals I wanted and there were like 20+ pets on there 😭 And because I love animals so much, I've decided I want to help them in the future but I also want to help people. I've been wondering what I should be in the future and it's changed multiple times(mostly because the hours were too long and I HATE 9-5 jobs) but helping animals and helping people is something I always want to do. So, I've decided that I'll do everything I want to do in the future and no one will stop me 😾 That's probably why I'm listed as the Troublemaker in the Family, I do what I want to do and say what I want to say without caring how other people feel because I'm my own person(Mostly, because I love having fun but also because they really need to hear it). My family doesn't like it tho 😕 whenever my sister does the same, she's always told that she's acting like me and that it's a bad thing but idc. When I'm of age, I'm gonna live my life the way I want 😌 I'm gonna get tattoos, get piercings, be a stripper while I get my desired degree in College/University. I'M GONNA DO IT ALL 💃🏾

I would also like to add that I smile and laugh a lot. I literally have smile lines from how hard I smile all the time. I could be experiencing any emotion like Anger, Happiness, Sadness, etc. and I'll still smile and laugh. I think it's the eye contact 😃

Appearance: I'm around the age of the Tokyo Rev characters, I'm 5'5, I'm not skinny or fat so I'm kinda in the middle, I have Auburn hair and eyebrows and have braided hair with beads in it 😩 I'm very hot, I also have glasses I wear occasionally although I really need them for my left eye 😫 I do think that the glasses make me look hotter tho so I wear em 👀

I hope that's a good representation of how I am and also thank you in advance <3

u are the definition of an aries rising LOL

IM MATCHING YOU UP WITH NAHOYA SO YOU CAN BE THE MOST CHAOTIC DUO TO EVER EXIST

im not even gonna lie to you here. y'all scare me. nahoya scares me, u kinda scare me (in a good way dw I literally dropped out of highschool nothing can truly scare me) but the way y'all absolutely hype each other up an energize yourselves off of each other is freaky and mildly concerning. its like, the two of you are somehow a match made in both heaven and hell because your brains are wired the exact same way but at the same time should we really be putting those two brains together????

all jokes aside though you really are mirrored versions of yourself and its fun as fuck for the both of you. nahoya, who lives for chaos and humour is delightfully enabled by your ability to take his jokes and follow along with his chaotic nature at the same speed without a skip in your step. you, are enabled by his ability to also match your speed and encourage you to do whatever the fuck you want because its your life and you should live it how you want.

when I decided on nahoya I didn't even think of the smiley thing but it just makes so much sense as I go back and reread your description?? like its meant to be ok

you two are THE trouble makers. ppl can't handle you and if you ever show up at any toman event mikey is immediately separating the two of you because even HE can't handle it. double trouble for sure.

nahoya says fuck a job. you can just hang out with him every day right?? no but for real, he 100% does not understand responsibilities and he doesn't get why you can't actually just hang out with him every day. he has so much fun with you and when you're gone he's like ?? tf do I do now?? disturb shit on my own?? damn. he does not like it one bit and will huff at you for having responsibilities. he swears he'll become rich so you don't have to do anything and he can just spoil you so you'll stay with him forever and cause ruckus together for the rest of your lives. this is his goal.

he's one of the top 3 worst boyfriends so im not even gonna lie that hes a shit boyfriend but I bet you wont care because the fun you have together and the freedom that your relationship holds is enough to make it all worth it.

psst.. he doesn't have to say I love you for you to know. it'll be clear in the way his eyes twinkle every time he sees you <3

#MATCHUPPP #this is so obvious like how could it be anyone but nahoya

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imaginationintowords · 4 years

Text

Folklore [song series]

the last great american dynasty

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word Count: 4658

Warnings: maybe some swearing (don’t really remember), mentions of deaths, sadness, loneliness.

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Age: 17

Year: 2012

Location: Brooklyn, NY

The last few months haven't been the greatest for Elizabeth.

She never did get to run for Student Body President during the months of October and November. Steve ended up running and winning. Elizabeth had even decided to leave student body council once campaigning started. She found no point in staying, everyone in the club didn't like her.

She had kept to herself. She no longer felt the need to make new friendships or continue the ones she had. The rumors made sure of that.

This was not how Elizabeth had thought her senior year would be. She thought she'd be crossing out he dates in her calendar feeling sad with each passing day, but now she's counting down to when she will never see these faces again.

She had also been approached by the principle right before school was dismissed for Holiday break. Principle Alvarez had told Elizabeth that she was the front runner for valedictorian. Elizabeth politely declined the offer, but Principle Alvarez told her to take the next three week holiday to think over it.

Elizabeth promised she would, but that was a lie. There was no way she would go in front of her classmates and give them a fake speech on comradery.

These people wouldn't know the first thing about that.

Instead she focused on anything besides school.

Her parents weren't oblivious to Elizabeth's sudden change in personality. At first they thought it was because of her breakup with Bucky. But Elizabeth had told them it was a mutual decision. They wanted to believe her, but they knew their daughter. They knew it was not what she had said.

They knew something must've happened, especially with the way Bucky has been actively avoiding running into them. Even going as far as running inside whenever he saw Mr. Sanchez get home from work.

Even Steve stopped coming around. That was another red flag.

Then they had found out from Sarah Rogers, Steve's mom, that Steve would be running for student body president, after Elizabeth stepped down and left the club.

They were shocked to hear the news.

How could she not tell them. Her parents had debated back and forth whether or not they should have a conversation with her.

She had been keeping this a secret for months. Whenever they would bring it up, she told them it was in the works. But she had lied. There was clearly something bigger going on.

They then received a phone call from Principle Alvarez the day before winter break started. She told them about Elizabeth becoming valedictorian but turning it down. Another secret her parents had heard nothing about.

"Mrs. Alvarez, we had no idea," Caterina, her mother, said.

"I figured which is why I called. I told Elizabeth to take the break think it over."

"Thank-you, Mrs. Alvarez," Brandon, her father, thanked, "Actually we were just discussing Elizabeth and her sudden personality change. Do you have any idea what might have happened?"

"Well," she cleared her throat, "I'm assuming you both know about her breakup with James."

"Yes, but she told us it was a mutual decision, somehow we don't think she's telling he truth," Caterina explained.

"I suppose she isn't. Unfortunately, I don't think it's my place to say. Her grades are not falling behind, she hasn't done anything that would create a cause for concern," she half lied.

"But she quit student council. She isn't even talking to Steve," Caterina explained, slightly frustrated with the situation.

"Yes, well," Principal Alvarez pauses, "There was some rumors going around at the beginning of the year, surrounding James and Elizabeth. Sadly those rumors favored James."

"Why are we just hearing about this now?" her father asked.

"I have spoken to Elizabeth, she had asked me not to say anything to you. In order to keep this a safe place for her and other students, there's some things that need to stay confidential.

"I didn't sense any danger and the rumors died down. Yes, she did quit student council, but you wouldn't be surprised by the amount of students who leave a club senior year." she explained to them.

"We have had no idea any of this was happening," Caterina, sighs softly, her eyes getting teary. Her husband softly rubs her back.

"What do you suggest we do? Should we confront Elizabeth about all these lies?" Brandon asks.

"I think Elizabeth is trying to protect you guys and herself. I can't tell you what to do. This is your child. But I can offer some advice," she says, "Give her some time. When it comes, I'm sure she'll open up, it might not be now, but it will be when she is ready. I've seen this a lot with seniors who get thrown a massive curve ball and it just throws them all off.

"It's what I like to call their first taste of the real world. How they get through it shows how they will handle these kind of stressors in the future. Some just go right off the handle and turn to some bad things to cope. Some repress their feelings, and let it all boil until they have some sort of snap. Some, learn and grow from it. Those that learn and grow, take it quietly, figure out what's to come afterwards. They stop worrying about what's happening now, and are ready to move on. The reason I haven't reached out is because I can see how Elizabeth is handling it. Yes, maybe she has changed, grown up a bit, but I still haven't gotten any major danger signs from her that say she isn't handling this in an unhealthy manner.

"Elizabeth has been meeting with our guidance counselor, about once a week. And that was something she had chosen to do on her own. We aren't necessarily obligated to tell parents that because of confidentiality reasons. If there was any cause for concerns you would've heard by now."

"So we should just wait?"

"Yes," she sighs, "I know it's probably not what you wanted to hear, but just know you have a wonderful daughter, who seems to know how to take care of herself in a healthy mature manner."

The conversation they had with Principal Alvarez brought some peace to their minds. Not completely, but enough to know that if Elizabeth really was in trouble she would go to them.

They had decided that it was probably best to get away for the winter break. Brandon and Caterina were able to work remotely during the holiday season, so they decided to take a trip to the family's cabin.

Elizabeth was excited to head to the cabin for the holidays. It meant that she wouldn't have to worry about running into anyone from school. And any reason to spend more time with her grandmother was exciting. Especially since she would be heading off to college soon.

Elizabeth had decided that Christmas to break the news to her parents that she had decided on the University of Stanford. She would be going as a Pre-Law student. The school was on the other side of the country. When she and her parents visited this past summer, Elizabeth fell in love with the campus.

Her last two choices were Stanford and Columbia.

With some talking to her guidance counselor and some major thought, she decided she desperately needed a change in scenery. A change in people.

For the first time since returning home, she had never felt more free. She was excited about the possibility of the future. She could no longer worry about what the hell was happening in Brooklyn.

Her parents were excited to hear about her choice. They were glad that she wasn't keeping this from them. They had decided that Principal Alvarez was right, Elizabeth was becoming such a strong woman in front of their eyes, and they had to trust that she knows what's best for herself.

Elizabeth and her grandma stayed that third week of break, while her parents were sent away by her grandma so she could have some quality time with her only granddaughter.

Elizabeth and her grandmother were currently sat in the living room going through some old photos. Elizabeth was helping her grandmother put them in some new photo albums she had gotten for Christmas.

"So, any new boy in your life?" her grandma, Sophia, asked.

"No, I'm done with high school boys," Elizabeth said, carefully going through the old photos.

"Good, high school boys are nothing but trouble."

"You're preaching to the choir," Elizabeth joked.

While grabbing another small box of photos, Elizabeth opened it up to reveal some very old letters and photos.

"What are these grandma?" she asked softly turning the box over for her grandma to see.

"Oh, I've been wondering where those went," she softly smiled, going over to sit next to Elizabeth on the couch.

Elizabeth handed her the box, and she pulled out a light yellowish envelope, the color from old age.

"Who are those from?"

"My old friend Rebekah," she said looking over at the letter.

"Rebekah? You've never told me about a Rebekah before.

"Well she was an old friend," her grandma said, handing Elizabeth a black and white photo of two young girls. One was her grandma and the blonde next to her must've been Rebekah. The photo was dated 1965.

"How did you guys meet?" Elizabeth asked.

"In junior high, we were both 12," her grandma handed her a photo dated 1960, it was of two even younger versions of the young teens.

"Oh, wow."

"From 12 to 21 we were inseparable."

"Woah, what's this?" Elizabeth asked, showing her grandma a photo of a quickie style wedding.

"Ah, that was Bex's first wedding."

"First?"

"Yup. Right out of high school, freshly 18. Adam Grant. Bex's high school sweetheart. Prom King and Queen."

"What happened?"

"Young love doesn't always last forever. Why do you think I was always so insistent with you not to worry about marriage until after you've graduated college and started your career."

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, "Just thought you thought I was too young, and you were right."

"Aren't I always," she winked playfully.

"What happened between them?"

"Adam wanted Rebekah to be a stay at home wife, to start popping out babies. That wasn't Bex at all. Bex was always the life of the party. She was a social butterfly, but she had dreams of making it to Broadway. Adam was set to take over his dad's mechanic shop.

"The marriage had only lasted a year, before they pulled the plug. After the divorce, Bex started to go on more auditions, while she waitressed part time, and once a month she would sing at a lounge in Manhattan. Now when I say she could sing, I mean she could sing. I believe she really could have made it," her grandma reminisces.

"What happened?"

"Bill happened," her grandma said, handing Elizabeth a photo of a man who appeared to be in his late 40s early 50s.

"Who's he?"

"Bill Carter. The richest man I have ever met. His family had oil money. He and his colleagues were in attendance at the lounge on one of the night's Bex was singing.

"From what Bex told me it was love at first sight. After that night Bex couldn't talk about anything but Bill. They were both so smitten over each other. I don't think I've ever seen Rebekah act like that. She started to clean herself up a little bit, to try and appease his family. But Bill loved her just the way she was when he met her."

"They were engaged two months later. This was both of their second marriages. Bill's parents desperately wanted him to have a prenup, but he was completely against it. He said that unlike his first marriage he knew this was the one. Plus Rebekah didn't care about all of that. She had had many opportunities to make some heavy cash by being a few married men's mistress, but that's not what mattered to her."

Elizabeth glanced down at the photo. It was a photo of the bride and groom surrounded by their friends, all of them have drinks and cigars in their hands, with big smiles on their faces.

Rebekah's hair was a everywhere, doesn't look like she bothered to comb it for the big day. Bill's tie was undone, along with his shirt being halfway unbutton, no suit jacket in sight. Her lips were dark in the black and white photo, which meant she probably was wearing a darker lip, judging by the lipstick marks on Bill's lips, cheek, and neck.

"Was this at the end of the night?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, this was just after the ceremony," her grandmother smiled, "Bex and Bill started the party after they said I do."

"The limo we all rode in together were filled with laughs, drinks, and cigars," she laughed.

"You guys knew how to party," Elizabeth smiled at her grandmother.

"Hey it was the late 60's," she shrugged her shoulders, handing Elizabeth another photo from the wedding.

"This looks small," Elizabeth remarked.

"Yeah, Bill's parents decided they weren't going to pay for the wedding when Bill refused to have Rebekah sign a prenup," she said, "So Bill and Bex decided to have a small wedding. Free of judgment. Just those that loved and supported them."

"That's nice," Elizabeth smiled at the thought of a small intimate wedding.

Elizabeth had never really given much though of how her wedding would be. I mean she and Bucky used to talk about getting married, but that was it. No plans were every truly made. Elizabeth also never truly saw herself as a big ballgown type of gal.

All that had mattered was her and Bucky. Now that's no more.

She felt her eyes get a little teary, she cleared her throat.

"So where did they go to after?"

"Rhode Island."

"Rhode Island?" Elizabeth looked at her grandmother, "Why Rhode Island?"

"They took a trip out there when they were dating, and fell in love with it. Plus Bex has always wanted to live on the sea. She said it made her feel free."

"Did his parents ever accept their marriage?"

"Sadly no," her grandma said, "Especially not after Bill's doctor told him to settle down with the party."

"Did he get sick?"

"Yes, around year 7 of their marriage, his doctor told him if he continued down this path he wouldn't live a long life."

"What did he do?"

"Bill told him he'd rather live the rest of his short life filled with happiness then become a boring old man who lived forever."

"Did he die?"

"Yes he did. He lived another three years, he and Bex were able to spend their ten year anniversary before he passed a week later. The summer of 1979."

"A week later?" Elizabeth asked shocked.

"Yeah," her grandmother sadly remembers.

"Rebekah was never the same after that," her grandmother says, "She never fully recovered from Bill's death."

"Did they have any kids?"

"Not together. Bill had two kids from his first marriage, but the kids only cared about their inheritance, that they never got."

"What?"

"Turns out Bill had changed his will when the doctor had first told him to slow down. He left everything to Rebekah," her grandma says, "That did not help Rebekah after his death either,

"Rebekah wasn't a heartless person, she made sure his children were taken care of, she created a fund for both kids. She never wanted Bill to do that, she didn't even know until the will reading two days after his funeral. All Bex wanted was her Bill. She would've given up all that money just for him."

"That's so sad," Elizabeth commented.

"Very. Even though Bex acted like none of the rumors bothered her, it did. Because that town was painting her to be this horrible woman. Calling her the most shameless woman they had ever seen, saying she enjoyed ruining everything. So she gave them what they wanted. She gave them the most shameless woman they would ever see. From what I had heard the partying got worse. She had parties every day, the house was filled with people from the city. She even got in a feud with one of their neighbors and stole his dog and dyed it green."

"What do you mean 'from what you heard'?" Elizabeth asked confused.

"Well, Rebekah and I weren't close anymore. The last time I had seen Rebekah was the week of Bill's funeral. Before then we hadn’t seen each other in almost 8 years.”

"What happened?"

"Well after I graduated in 1970, your grandpa and I decided to get married and settle down in Brooklyn," her grandma said, handing her a photo of their wedding day, "We were done with the whole party scene. We were ready to begin our own lives. Grandpa and I had already had good jobs lined up. We were ready to be adults. We were ready to start our family.

“Rebekah never understood that. She claimed ‘kids ruined everything’. She and Bill were living this extraordinary life. Kids didn’t fit the picture.”

“What about his kids?”

“They’d visit once per season. Their mother didn’t think that lifestyle was for them, and Bill never fought it,” she told Elizabeth, “And after I had your Uncle Eric in 1972, Rebekah couldn’t put her own feelings for children aside. It put a strain on our friendship, causing me to realize that I couldn’t be her friend if she couldn’t support what made me happy.

“I had supported Rebekah in every aspect of her life. When she wanted to marry Adam right out of high school, I supported her, hell I drove them. When she wanted to divorce Adam, I was there to hold her while she grieved her first failed marriage. She wanted to become a Broadway star, I was right there cheering and supporting her. When she met Bill, and everyone was against their relationship, I was their only support. When they decided to get engaged and married only 5 months after meeting each other, I was there, every step of the way. Did I have time? No, I was busy with school, but I made time.

“I was there for everything. I supported her through everything. But when I was ready to begin my own life, Rebekah couldn’t be there,” her Grandma sighs, “It made me question everything about our friendship.”

“It wasn’t until Bill’s funeral that I fully realized, she was just scared of being alone,” she says, “His funeral was filled with people. But not one of them was there for her.”

“How sad.”

“Rebekah and I finally talked that night,” her grandma says, “She told me all about the nonstop adventures she and Bill had.”

“Did you guys makeup?”

“Yes and no,” she says, “Rebekah was still against kids. She apologized for what she had said, but at that point I had already had three kids. We knew that our friendship would never be the same. We knew that the only way we could be in each other’s lives was if we kept our distance. If any one of us needed each other we knew we could call. But sometimes people come into your life only to be a small part of it. They don’t stay forever, but they make an everlasting impact.”

“Do you know what ended up happening to her?”

“She died, 9 years after Bill’s death. She was only 40 years-old,” she tells Elizabeth with a glimmer in her eye, “She died alone. While on vacation in Italy.”

“I’m sorry Grandma,” Elizabeth sympathetically says, she places her hand softly on top of her grandmother’s.

“It’s okay sweetie, time has come and gone. We all have to go through it someday.”

“What happened to that big house of her’s?”

“It’s still there. It never sold.”

“Why?”

“People claim it’s cursed,” she says, “so now it sits empty on that hill in Rhode Island.”

“They claim a crazy woman lived there, that anyone that were to live there would end up in the same fate as she,” her grandma says, “She wasn’t crazy. She was heartbroken. That whole town exiled her. Blamed her for everything. Made her out to be someone she wasn’t.”

“I get the feeling,” Elizabeth mumbled, looking down at her hands.

“She wasn’t crazy. She was a woman who lost the love of her life. She traveled the world to find anything to fill that void in her heart, and she never did. So she made sure to give that town everything she had.

“She was a very scorn woman. Filled with hatred, and anger to those that did her wrong,” her grandma says, clutching Elizabeth’s hands, forcing her to look into her eyes, “I don’t want you becoming like that Elizabeth.”

“I know whatever is going on in school, is not the easiest. But please, don’t let your heart be filled with so much hatred. I don’t want you becoming like Rebekah. She never learned to forgive.”

“It’s hard to forgive,” Elizabeth sniffled.

“I know, but it’s even harder to carry around so much darkness in your life,” she explains, “You should be able to go to college with nothing weighing you down. Not having anything negative reminding you of back home. You shouldn’t dread going back home, you should be filled with joy. Don’t exile those around you, just because they haven’t figured out that part of their lives.”

“Don’t let these last few moments of your high school life be filled with what those kids are saying,” she squeezes Elizabeth’s hands, “You know who you are. Those closest to you truly know who you are. We love you and support you. And are so incredibly proud of the woman you have become.”

“So please find it in yourself to forgive,” her grandma pleads.

“It’s hard being the bigger person,” Elizabeth sniffles again, silent tears streaming down her face, “they hurt me so much.”

“I know sweetie,” she pulls Elizabeth into her arms, “But let them regret what they have done. Don’t let them win by seeing you become this mad woman. Let them look back in their life, regretting the way they treated you.”

————————

Once Elizabeth went back home, the weekend before she was due to return to school from winter break. She had a lot to think about.

Does she listen to her grandma and forgive everyone for everything they’ve done. Or does she continue down the path she started on months ago.

She had to admit to herself, the path she was on was lonely. She didn’t like it one bit. She didn’t like what they made her become.

She decided to take her grandma’s words, and promised that once she returned to school on Monday, she would go back to being who she was. Not entirely, but at least not filled with so much hatred. She had to move on. For her own soul.

The first step, forgiving Bucky.

She knew that that was the only way to start. She wasn’t ready to talk to him in person, she’s not sure if she ever will be. So she sat at her desk and wrote him a letter:

Dear James,

(Yes, I called you James). I don’t know how to begin this. My grandmother told me I should forgive those that hurt me. You know my grandma, filled with nothing but wisdom. She told me a story about a friend she had, one that let the rumors consume her with hatred. She died alone.

I don’t want to be that person.

I know you don’t believe me to be that person, even after the things I’ve said to you.

But, I do feel myself becoming that person. Hating everyone around me, aside from my own family. (They still have no idea what’s going on with me)

So my first step in letting go, is forgiving you.

Letting all the pain and hate you’ve caused on me go...

I forgive you James.

I forgive you for everything you’ve done.

I don’t think I’ll fully understand why you cheated on me.

I know that’s not who you truly are. So I hope, that whatever you’re going through you come out on the other side.

This is harder than I thought it would be...

I loved you so much. I really thought we would end up together. Maybe that was just a childish thought.

Does anyone even make it out alive with their high school sweetheart?

But I want to thank you. For being my first love.

We were best friends to begin with, so falling in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

Being in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve done.

It was just so effortless. And now I’m starting to wonder if that’s not how love is supposed to be...

But thank-you, for loving me the best that you could. You might not think it was the best, but it was.

You’re a part of my life forever. Even if you’re not physically a part of it.

You, James Buchanan Barnes, have left a forever imprint in my life.

So for that I want to thank you and forgive you.

I will always remember you as the 7 year-old boy who taught me how to ride my bike.

-Elizabeth “Betty” Sanchez.

Elizabeth walked across the street and placed the sealed letter in the Barnes’ mailbox.

As she walked back to her house, she felt this heavy weight lifted off her shoulder.

Come that Monday morning she was going to accept, Principal Alvarez’s valedictorian offer. She was also going to talk to the student council and see if there was anyway for her to rejoin student body. She was also going to apologize to Steve. He was just an innocent bystander that got caught in the crossfire. She couldn’t blame him for standing by his best friend’s side.

Monday, her life will officially be going down a different path. One filled with less hatred, and more understanding and forgiveness.

————————-

Age: 35

Year: 2029

Location: Rhode Island

“We haven’t had any interested buyers in decades,” the relator tells the happy couple, “Because of that, the house is basically a steal. The family that owns it just wants it out of their possession.”

“Now, it is a bit of a fixer upper, since no one has lived here since the late 80s. But that shouldn’t be any issue for you since you’re married to the youngest recipient of the Pritzker Architecture Prize.”

The couple shares a brief smile with each other.

“But if I might ask, no one has every showed interest in this house, especially not a young family like yours. Why do you want to buy this house?”

“I think this house has been empty long enough. It’s time someone filled this house with lots of love and happiness. Like before,” Elizabeth smiled, small crows feet forming around her eyes.

“Well what better way then a family like yours,” the relator smiled, “There’s plenty of space for lots of kids.”

“This one is out last,” Steve smiled, putting his arm around Elizabeth, placing his hand on her growing belly.

“Three is enough for us,” She playfully poked Steve’s side.

They followed the relator to the back where two young children are running around playing.

“So what do you think?” Elizabeth whispered to Steve, looking up into his eyes.

“It’s definitely a fixer upper, but I love it,” he smiles, “Like I said before, wherever you go. I’m there.”

Elizabeth presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips.

“Diane,” she calls out to the older relator who is running around with mini-me’s of Elizabeth and Steve.

“We’ll take it,” she smiles broadly.

54 notes · View notes

randomsevans · 3 years

Text

Lover

Steve Roger's x Reader

A/n I might do another version of this . Since it wasnt what I planned for this song but I came out this way anyway . I like the story but I have another one in mind of this song

Remember to send in a song request along with a character ❤

Requested by @donutloverxo

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

This is our place, we make the rules

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

Its hasn't quite been twenty seconds or twenty year . But long enough for me and steve to finally get our place together. We havnt been here long late August. And our little nest has already seen the change of season quite quickly with as soon as September rolled around the Halloween decorations were up. It didnt take much convincing since steve loved the holiday.

But as 31st of October past and November the 1st came forward I knew my work was cut out of me .

" please stevie . Pretty please " I said looking up wrapped up in his arms on the stairs giving my best puppy dog eyes .

"No . It ain't gonna work " steve shut his eyes shaking his head trying to avoid your eyes

"But .... please "

"No doll . The boxes are going up and nothing it coming down . No Santas or reindeer until the 1st of December " steve said sternly

"But that agesssss a way "I whined like a kid . What can I say I love Christmas well any holiday really

Steve took a deep breath and step away from me . Picking up the box on the floor filled with skulls ,bones and black and orange decor .he began to clime the ladder to the loft whispering to himself "no happening. Not happening. It was literally Halloween yesterday "

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my lover

As I stood there staring at the ground waiting for steve . I knew he wouldnt let me put the decorations up . I mean it November shops are selling Christmas stuff why cant I put it up ! I'm not waiting a month ! I softly yet firmly stamped my foot like a child . Quickly glancing up to see if steve notice he doesnt like it when I'm a brat . But what do u expect me to be like when I want Christmas and his been a grinch .

Yet I couldn't find it in me to be angry with him . His been so patient he waited months for me to finally agree to a date and then took things slow with me . But when one night randomly in his room he said he wanted a place of our own . I freaked out and avoided him for days until we talked and he said he was happy for to wait for me to make a decision . It didnt take me long tho . I knew steve was the one . He will always be my lover . That's why I dont think I wanted to rush things but to make them perfect . But the thought of a place all mine and steve warned my heart I couldn't wait. I ran into the compand kitchen one day shouting 'yes ' everyone thought we were gonna get married . But no I said yes to a place of our own , where the walls would have our favourite colour and our pictures. Decorations when ever I want . Apparently not

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Its wasnt until a heavy box fell at my feet with a thud that I snapped out of my thoughts looking down untill u saw the red tinsel picked out . I smile creeped on my face. Growing as I turned my head towards steve who was at the bottom of the ladder showing of his muscles as he held a larger box on his shoulder . With a final creek he was at the bottom and turned to face me . He had a frown on his face as he was clearly trying to hid his smile . He left the box on the ground and grabbed you with full force you fell over my own feel and right into his chest . His arms circled around me.

"Let's make one thing clear " Steve slowly said as his blue ocean eyes glance into mine ."this ..." he pointed to the boxes "is only happening ... this early ... because it our first Christmas here "

"Yes sir " I said happily bouncing quite literally up and down with a wide smile on my face untill I was pushed all of a sudden to the wall behind me

"What the h..."

"What did you just call ?" Steve voice was stern yet playful .

"Umm " my throat all of a sudden become very dry

"Now what do you say and say it right " steve soft eyes where a contrast to his voice . It's one of the many things you love about your lover for the last three years . Mainly why you will alway want to be with this man .its always somthing I know alot of people would want and do want . Even after three year and a house with the ring hidden in his drawers I cant help but still feel like he doesn't actually want me because I know everyone falls to his feet so why pick me . But the though went as quickly as it came as I feel Steve's lips getting closet to mine .

"Ummm thank you captain "

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

Steve quickly pulled away just before our lips met .

"Come on then " the bastard had a smirk on his face as he looked down at him .I just hummed as a reply pissed of with me . "Dont you want to to decorate " he bend his neck till he was eye level with me and did a playful pout . I quickly nodded and zoomed off to get a box .

You're my, my, my, my lover

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

The sky had turned black as me and steve finally sat down with a cup of hot chocolate for both of us . Mine with mashmalls of course. I sighted finally relaxing. I glanced around the room. Seeing the tall tree and the red and gold decor every way.

"Thank you stevie " I spoke softly

"No thank you doll "

My brows raised as I turned to face the handsome super solider "what for ... you spend your day of helping me take down and put decorations "

"That I did love ... but maybe next time you shouldn't let me have so much control over where to put put them " steve said as he leaned toward and took my hot chocolate out of mine hand . He slightly titled his head up with a devilish smirk . I followed his eye light . Untill I saw a mistletoe hanging down . I small chuckle left his lips and he came closer to me. "It is traditionally after all "

A small smirk was now placed on my face as I quickly got up and ran to the kitchen "not quite yet lover boy " I giggled

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Oh, you're my, my, my, my

Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover

His laughter boomed though out the halls as he slowly made his way towards me . "Ohh really " he cockly said as he point above me once again. My heart sank as I looked up and saw yet another mistletoe.

"Oh you think your so clever dont you?"

"You know it darling " he quickly stood in front of me with his hand framing my face and his lips touched my softly .

I softly sighed as we parted I must of looked pissed or sad or angry because Steve's face quickly become worried. "What's the matter doll . I'll take them down if you.."

"No ...no " I quickly said

"Then what is it ?"he softly asked his hands moving to my waist .

"Can we stay this close forever " I closed my eyes . Untill I heard a chuckle

"Forever and ever my lover , "

"Really " I looked up wide eyed .

"Of couse if you'll have me that is ?" He looked a bit scared untill I placed a small peck on his pout .

"Why wouldn't I? Your my lover "

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america #steve rogers #fanfic #steve rogers au

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clumsyclifford · 3 years

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just finished writing this and realized how long it got oh jeez i am so sorry. i promise it is just me rambling about nothing and does not require a lot of thought.

i made a playlist of r5's entire discography and am listening to it (in order) because there is something wrong with me. if only it had their very first ever ep on it (ready set rock ep you may have been slight garbage but i don't love you any less for it). oh god i realized i fucked up and didn't add the songs by "ross lynch and r5" from the austin & ally soundtrack. i'm already three songs into louder and they would have been between louder and say you'll stay. what do i have to do is actually one of r5's best songs and i'm pretty sure i remember ross calling it one of his favs fairly recently?? which was so valid of him. anyways. this is now an r5 song ranking. i'm bored and avoiding doing assignments. i'm going to name my top 10 r5 songs off the top of my head. source: me trying to remember every song they've ever released.

no. 1: easy love. nothing comes close. my fav song they ever made. they haven't made anything that even compares since (this is /hj. tde has some valid songs).

no. 2: wishing i was 23. what do you mean i only love this song because of my nostalgia bias no i don't.

no. 3: what do i have to do? i will not elaborate i do not know why i adore this song as much as i do it's just a cute song.

no. 4: repeating days. THE END. THE FUCKING END AFTER THE SONG ENDS THE "all i've got is cheap wine" PART ross sounds so vulnerable and him with just the guitar makes me so :(((((( it's so gorgeous that part makes the whole song and that makes it top 3 for me.

no. 5: i want u bad. THAT SONG FUCKS LIVE. I DO NOT WANT TO THINK ABOUT THE FACT THAT I WILL PROBABLY NEVER SEE IT LIVE AGAIN. (speaking of concerts i can't believe you bought concert tix and fucking forgot??? that is actually so fucking funny bella it made me laugh i will not lie)

no. 6: dark side. so so valid of them. it just fucks. it's so good. it makes u want to dance. u named a fic after a lyric from it which was so valid.

no. 7: did you have your fun? i love this song. no i will not elaborate. it is a sexy song. what's that one lyric from it that's hot. "love me, leave me, left me numb" some lyrics you love for no particular reason and for me that's one of those lyrics.

no. 8: f.e.e.l.g.o.o.d. this has alwayysss been one of my favs by them. since it dropped. some lore about it: the like crowd yelling that's in it they recorded live at a festival they played and i remember there being hype about this being an unreleased song when they had the crowd chanting "f-e-e-l-g-o-o-d" with no explanation. also another fun fact is that the final version of this is just a demo?? source: my slightly faulty memory remembering ross saying something about some demos being so good that you keep them as they are and it later being revealed this was the song he was talking about.

no. 9: i know you got away. sexy song. they released a vocals only version of it (that has apparently since been deleted?? i went to look for it on youtube and couldn't find it?? wtf r5) that has stuck with me ever since.

no. 10: loud. but more specifically the acoustic or live version. this was their encore song that they played to end every show. i MISS IT. it holds a special place in my heart.

honorable mentions: hurts good (a good song and THEIR LAST THEY EVER RELEASED VV SAD), wild hearts (fun fact almost picked a lyric from this song as my senior quote till i found out they didn't write this song), fallin' for you (YOU LIKE MISMATCHED SOCKS WITH POLKA DOTS YOU LIKE YOUR PIZZA COLD I THINK THATS HOT i never saw this song live and i'm still fucking pissed about it ok), do it again (it's such a sweet song :(((( "listen to the airplanes as we count the stars" gives me the same vibes as six feet under the stars), things are looking up (generally just a cute song!! this whole ep is just very good and very cute!! when i saw it live one time during the bridge ross was like "everyone shut up this is my favorite part >:(" and that was so valid of him) i can't say i'm in love (it's just a fun song!! it was a bonus track on sln from another country), trading time (this is the only song from the new addictions ep that i listed and u know what i'm Not sorry)

ok. i will spare you and stop rambling. other honorable mentions: if you have never listened to cool girl (feat. the driver era) by new beat fund i highly recommend. it's an okay song but it was one of the first songs released after they rebranded as tde and includes ross saying motherfucker with his whole chest. i will never again feel what i felt the first time i heard that song having listened exclusively to them as r5 whose songs they couldn't curse in because they were on a disney label.

in conclusion. i miss r5. ross saying fuck is kinda hot. i listened to the entirety of louder while writing this. i am sorry to dump this in your askbox. i still have multiple assignments to do and should probably go to sleep at a decent time. it feels fitting to finally stop writing while easy love is on. when i was 12 and this ep came out i thought "dirtbags" was a curse word and was scared to sing it. they changed it to "douchebags" live.

that's all. goodbye. have a lovely night. listen to r5's discography for clear skin thriving crops etc etc. sorry to lovepost about them in your askbox i only have (1) former r5 mutual that i still talk to (a very interesting but long story. she's the gemini bestie) and she will only lovepost about r5 once in a while. feel free to ignore my ask calling cody bellinger hot i was a different person when i wrote it i am now a changed woman. LOVE YOU MWAH - bella but she misses r5

hi hi im going to answer this with minimal thought because im tired but i dont wanna leave this sitting in my inbox forever but for the record all your r5 opinions are valid. ok lets go

1. easy love slaps ive heard it a couple times over the last few days (it played in the car today while i was driving sam n meghna to the airport) and it does fuck i can see why it's your fave

2. i do not know this song

3. A BOP A WHOLE FUCKIN BOP

4. oh i do love repeating days great choice i would have to hear it a few more times to get it in my head but i remember really liking it when i listened to the album it's on

5. also a banger and i'm glad my concert tickets situation made you laugh it made me laugh too imagine being this useless gldskfjgs

6. DARK SIDE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKS GIVE IN TO YOUR DARK SIDE YOUR DARK SIDE IIIIIIIII SEE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT MEEEEE

7. ANOTHER FUCKING BANGER this one is probably among my favorite r5 songs maybe top 5 LOVE ME LEAVE ME LEFT ME NUMB (guitar moment) DID YOU HAVE YOUR FUUUuuuuUUUUUNNNNN i feel the same way about this lyric as you

8. oh shit thats pretty cool i dont know this song tbh i cant remember how it goes i know ive heard it once or twice but. id have to listen to it again so i will keep you posted on that

9. i do not know this one either

10. interesting choice for top ten but i support you, this song fucks and ever since you mentioned it it's been in my subconscious and randomly getting stuck in my head i think i need to listen to it to get it out. it does hit ur right

11. i don't know hurts good or wild hearts or things are looking up or i can't say i'm in love or trading time well enough to say anything about them. but i really like fallin for you it's one of those cheap fun songs but emphasis on fun, and also really like do it again one day ill write a fic based on that song

i have not listened to cool girl i put it on my to listen playlist so hopefully i remember to listen to it soon ill be honest though i dont think im prepared for ross lynch saying motherfucker w his whole chest like i think itll take me out. so. anyway. i hope you got your assignments done. thank you for the r5 lovedump feel free to drop in anytime with more

#this is a love-positive zone #we love love #here on clumsyclifford we support insane obsessions because we also have insane obsessions #ask #cubs anon #anonymous #lol i was telling my dad that i talked to rian and zack but said the most generic things ever #and i was like. i mean there were things that i would have wanted to ask but if i had then they would have known that--#-- im like super obsessed with them in a kind of creepy way. like i wanted to ask rian what time alex was born #...so we can figure out his rising sign so we can make his star chart #and my dad was like . why would you need that #and i said. you know for funsies #he was like do you think he would even know that #and i said well in our collective opinions we think alex wouldnt know what time he was born but rian and/or jack probably would #and my dad was like its a good thing you didnt ask him that. it would have been creepy.#and i was like I KNOW THATS WHY I DIDNT ASK BECAUSE I KNEW IT WOULD HAVE BEEN CREEPY BRO #so anyway #i dont remember why i started telling this story #its 1am im so tired ive had the longest two days ever #i need sleep im going to die #i cant believe classes in two days #end me

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deniigi · 5 years

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I love how you characterize everyone you write so uniquely, you're one of my favorite authors, and you inspired me to do my own writing (let's just say I've got like almost 30k of spiderman and daredevil stuff now and leave it at that), but I was wondering if you had any tips on how to get a better read on characters that give you trouble?

Anon, this is a really fucking hard question and I’ve been ruminating on it for ages.

I’m not 100% sure what you mean, is part of the issue, I think.

Are you asking me what I do when I find myself stuck in writing certain characters? Or do you mean: how do I break down characters I am not overly familiar with to write them in a coherent way?

I think you might be asking more of the second question than the first, but on the off chance that I’ve misunderstood, I’ll answer both and then we can continue the conversation based on which you need more help with; is that cool?

——————–

So for the first question about getting stuck while writing a character:

What I mean when I say ‘stuck’ is like, you find that you’ve introduced this person and you’ve built a context around them, but something just doesn’t feel right and no matter how much you write, you just feel like it’s not working or feels just plain wrong.

So you usually run out of things to say or get frustrated and can’t seem to move forward with other parts of your story.

That’s ‘stuck’ for me. And when I get stuck like that, I’ve usually got a couple of things going on, but the main two are that

I don’t know this character well enough

My narrative has problems

The first issue, I handle by doing research on a character to remind myself who they are, what their past is, what their past behavior in similar environments/with similar people has been, etc.

The way to deal with the second issue is both straight forward and difficult to hear sometimes, and that’s this:

Your narrative ain’t workin’.

Scrap it. Make a new one.

A lot of times, when I get stuck, it’s because my narrative is too complicated and I have to do too much explaining in order for me to move forward with a character or event.

Straight up? When I find myself having to explain things in big blocks of text (as in, blocks of text which are backstory and not descriptions of the scene) I know I’ve gone too far. Maybe I’ll do that once in a first draft of a narrative, but most of the time, after I’ve gotten it out once, I will scrap that piece and draft another one, this time omitting the explaining.

The next time around, I’ll rework my narrative to make a character do something which makes them reveal a little of this backstory and I’ll have someone else notice, question, or contextualize it for them.

But at the same time, if your problem isn’t about too much explaining to do (this happens most in AUs I find), it might be due an overly complicated plot (lol. See fuckin’ sidebars for that. Christ. Never again. 4 narratives is too many in one story for me)

So the answer to that is stepping back, taking a deep breath, and either relaxing the rigidity of your planned plot or dropping a narrative or point altogether.

I get that that sucks to hear sometimes because we all seem to consider a fucked up plot or a skipped opportunity to talk about X cool thing a sign of personal failure, but that’s not at all true.

think of it like this: if something’s not working, there’s no use in hammering away at it the way you have been. You’re just gonna end up with blisters when you could be making a whole new fence.

ANYWAYS. what I’m trying to say here is that your read on a character might not be the thing that’s tripping you up in your writing. You might just need to do a little reading on the character and some reworking of your narrative, and then you might find that you understand the character just fine!

—————–

In the case that you haven’t started writing yet or you have, but you keep getting stuck in breaking down a character into their parts so you can figure out what you can do with them–that’s a little more tricky.

I’m sure that everyone has their own method, so bear with me and know that mine might not work for you.

But the first thing I do when I approach a new character is that I read up on them. I use fandom wikis. I look for comic appearances, book appearances, appearances in general. I look for fandom representations of them, both the really old and the really new, in images and writing.

Basically I build a picture of what this character is to the canon and the fandom and then I pick through those piles deciding with the capriciousness of a prince what I want to keep and what I want to throw to the lions.

From there, I will take this shiny, new, bastardized version of a character who now pleases me, and I will ask the following thing from them in every narrative that I write:

What do they want?

If you constantly ask yourself what your character wants, then you force yourself to address why they want that thing and what they’re willing to do get it. (this is the actual breaking down process that you need to do to figure out someone’s characterization)

so like, as an example for you: Wade Wilson.

I fucking hate the way that people have characterized Deadpool in both comic canon and in fandom, but I do actually really like the way that Ryan Reynolds has characterized him. So working with that foundation and a lot of details about Wade from the comics, I have asked myself ‘what does Wade want?’

The answer is surprising. And it’s security.

Why does he want that thing? And how do I know it’s something like ‘security’ and not ‘chaos?’ Well, think about his background: he’s been abused by his family, which he resents, he joined the army, he’s picked a lucrative field to become a professional in, he was very attached to Vanessa.

These are not the actions of a man seeking chaos. These are the actions of someone seeking to make chaos work for him. Now you could take that in any number of ways, but since I am interested in distancing my Wade from his current context of completely “””random””” violence, I have focused primarily on him seeking happiness, satisfaction, and stability in his own ways.

As for the ‘what is he willing to do to get it’ part of that question, the comics and movie and fandom all point to Wade as erratic and unpredictable, but I disagree with that interpretation. I think what Wade actually is is adaptable, and that adaptability and the absurd lengths to which he will go to do something silly or vindictive seems to me to suggest that he’ll do pretty much anything to achieve what he wants. This gives me a sense of what Wade will and won’t do in a narrative. For example, he will use violence when he thinks it will achieve a goal, but he won’t say, fuck up a relationship with someone for laughs when that person offers him something that speaks to what he wants overall.

The main thing with characters like Wade and Peter and Matt and heroes in media in general is that, fundamentally, they cannot have what they ultimately want. They can build their whole lives around it, they can get close to it, they have even have parts of it, but if they got what they really, really wanted, for good and forever, then their stories would end. There’s nowhere to go from there.

If you want to end your story that way, great. Excellent. I whole-heartedly support you.God knows we need more happy ending in this world to give us glimmer of fucking hope.

But if you’re working in a verse which has no clear end and you don’t want it to have a clear end (like, for example, my dumpster fires verse) then you need to keep shit just out of reach for your characters.

That will drive your narrative and it will give you room for breaking down and developing your character along the way in a believable way, at least for the narrative that you are writing for them.

——-

Anyways anon, this has been way too long and drawn out and I’m sorry for that. If you want to discuss personally what’s going on with your work, I’m happy to chat with you about it!

#fic #long post #sorry mobile folks #writing advice #People please stop characterizing wade as 'random' or 'violent' because of his mental illness #it's not funny #it's not cute #you can find humor in his behavior that's fine but its not cool to attribute all of that to his schizophrenia #that's just fucked up #schizophrenia is a devastating illness and that on top of chronic cancer has got to leave wade fucking reeling day in and day out

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honeybeesintheimpala · 4 years

Text

Title: An Angel's Lullaby

Pairing: DeanCas, Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Words: 93,662

Status: Complete

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7984306/chapters/18268822

Chapter One - The Man with the Ocean Eyes

"Excuse me," a gravelly voice suddenly fills the room and Dean's pen nearly goes flying, heart pumping. It's been at least two days since anyone's even walked through those doors and being alone with his thoughts isn't exactly a new thing but for that long, it gets to be a surprise when someone says something. He keeps it under control though, doesn't look up except a quick glance at a nice pair of khakis and a deep purple jumper.

He goes back to scribbling on the piece of paper where he's supposed to be filling out a request for another truck to come and take away a few boxes of older books, bring them to a charity or a foster house somewhere.

"What can I help you with," he says, surprised that his own voice is bored considering his heart is pounding out a Jamaican beat and he's pretty sure he almost pissed his pants.

"I was just wondering if there are any books that you might recommend? I'm in the mood for reading, but not really sure what to look for," the man speaks at a low volume, as if there's anyone here to be disturbed.

Dean's intrigue is piqued though, so he pauses his doodles, knits his eyebrows together and looks up.

His eyes trace up the outline of his jumper, which wraps nicely around a narrow waist and a great chest, then leads into a white collared shirt, tan neck, a scruffy jaw that can't decide between chiseled and soft, some full lips that look like they might be chapped bit also look incredibly kissable, a straight-edge nose, and finally, two unfathomable blue eyes, shining bright as the Caribbean ocean that Dean is entirely too sure they are made of. His hair is a messy looking, bed-head-esque mop of dark chocolate brown and he smiles down at Dean as if he isn't the most attractive person Dean's ever encountered.

He's actually blown away by the fact that this man is inside a nearly failing library right now instead of out modeling a white pinstripe suit and blue tie from Men's Warehouse somewhere.

This time, Dean thinks he may actually piss his pants, but he refrains from any sort of urination onto cloth, as a mind-blowingly handsome man with some captivating blue eyes that seem to have stolen the sea is standing in front of his desk, asking about books.

He also refrains from exhibiting all of these passing thoughts on his face, because it feels like it's been a few minutes since he asked the question and the guy's probably starting to think Dean's some weirdo who can't speak under pressure.

"Library's a dying business, sir," he sits back in his chair and sets the pen down slowly. "Yeah, all the kids got their...electronic readers and...there are bookstores that sell books. Never out of stock of a specific book. Sometimes we get that; not having a specific book because all the copies got checked out...or we used to have that..."

The man stares down at him with such focus and intent, nodding along and knitting his brows together. Who is this guy?

"Nah, I mean, it's amazing that...someone wants a book so badly and loves it so much that they gotta buy it and have it forever," Dean continues, then leans forward again, grabbing a book to his left and wiggling it in the air. "Not so awesome for the library."

"That's so...intriguing...that you respect those other industries so much..." He replies, squinting, head tilting in a puppy dog manner.

Dean chuckles, setting the book down. Stares at the black cover as his smile slowly fades.

"Not much else I can do," he shrugs, shuffling through several books to find the one with the light yellow-beige cover, red outline and text reading Oliver Twist glaring up at him, and a small, square, painted picture of a boy in a hat playing at the edge of a wood sitting just above the title. "Once these places shut down, I'll inevitably drift into a bookstore, sign up to be a clerk or a stocker. 'Cause I mean," he flips the book over and opens the back page. Pulls out the name card from the pocket glued to the inside of the cover and examines it. "Yeah, a book ain't been checked out from here in three months."

He laughs and throws the book to his right, watches it skid across the table and come to a stop beside the red canvas hardcover with shiny blue letters indenting the words Of Mice and Men.

"Wow...so...I mean, how do you guys stay in business?" The guy is leaning ever forward, hands gripping the edge of the desk and arms stick straight as he balances himself over the books.

Dean smirks up at him.

"Ah," he scrubs at the back of his neck, cheeks hot, and looks away into the corner of the main entrance. "Well, charities? Mostly...and, uh, you know, school fundraisers, donations from the coffee shop down the street." He squints up at the giant skylight making up about ninety percent of the roof, thinking. "Oh, uh...this one guy. Some sorta bookwrite. Author of...damn, what are those things called...gaaahh...oh! An Angel's Lullaby!" Recognition passes over the man's face in clear abundance. "Guy's name, I'm still drawin' a blank on--"

"Chuck Shurley," the guy cuts him off but Dean is impressed. It's such an obscure book but he obviously knows it well.

"Yeah!" He points at the guy. "Yeah, yeah. You know him? I mean, his work?"

"Yeah...too well...why?"

"Ah, no...I'm just...just surprised, you know? Not a real popular selection," Dean thinks for a moment and it falls silent once more. Then: "You met him? He did a book signing here once. Not many people came, but..."

"Oh, yeah I've met him..." He doesn't elaborate, but Dean suspects it's because he just explained it for the guy, and it seems like it's making him a little uncomfortable anyway.

"Uh," he looks for something that might change the subject. "Well, to answer your first question..." He opens his mouth to continue but ends up chuckling and shaking his head. "Look, man, there's just too many books and not enough time. I've been coming to this library my entire life, probably read every single book by now. I mean, I can point you to some of my favourites, I guess, but really the only one off the top of my head and without me getting up is An Angel's Lullaby."

"Are you religious?" He asks suddenly and Dean's bewildered by the inquiry until he realises how obsessed he must seem with the book.

"Oh..." He breathes out a laugh. "Nah, that's...I'm an atheist, actually. I'm just...really into angels. Religions and...gods and deities are my thing. To be honest, I could probably list thirty Christian angels off the top of my head."

"Really," he seems impressed and Dean blushes harder. "How about...the three main archangels and...the Angel of Thursday."

Specific...and strange. But okay, he'll play along. For the sake of flirting.

"Okay...well there's Michael, the eldest son of God who was set to the task of casting Lucifer, second oldest, into hell because he claimed he could not love humanity as he loved his father. Gabriel, protector of humanity, present at the birth of Jesus Christ and the deliverer of the Holy news. And then...actually, my favourite, if I'm honest-" he looks up and watches the man's lips part, a blush crawling up his neck too, and he briefly wonders why, "-Castiel. Angel of Thursday, keeper of prayers said on that day." He smirks for a second before adding, "Always heard he was a real looker."

The man seems flustered, tugging at his jumper, pulling the v-neck away from his chest and adjusting his collar.

"Me too," he chokes out and Dean thinks it's entirely unfair how cute this man looks with a scarlet flush painting his cheeks and his hands not able to find a resting placing.

"I..." Dean starts, gazing down at his hand fiddling with the edge of a hardcover, nail scraping against the canvas. "I think I remember a few more books. Not real sure what you would like, but, uh..." He tears a corner off of the paper he was drawing on and scribbles down the titles and respective authors, then continues as he hands the list to the man. "Most of 'em are...classics...Little Women, Gone With the Wind, A Wrinkle in Time, Wuthering Heights...the original and best...version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."

The man smiles down at the list and then down at Dean, and Dean's heart leaps into his throat.

"Thank you," he says quietly and Dean's eyes flit down, small smile of modest pride lifting his lips.

"Don't mention it," he whispers back, gaze meeting the man's once more. Then he leans forward and takes up the pen again, waggling it between two fingers. He leans on his bent arm and says, "So, you plannin' on checkin' anything out today, sir?"

And, without blinking or missing a beat, the man replies with the most unexpected answer, letting the words drip from his lips like fuckin' honey when he replies, "Just you."

Dean is astonished at this guy's guts, but a brazen vocabulary and a cocky attitude is exactly the kind of thing that gets him going.

He opens his mouth in a shocked kind of smile, and shakes his head as if he's offended at the nerve of those words.

"I...don't even know your name," Dean says slowly, eyes twitching from the man's leg to his chest to his mouth to his eyes. When they meet, the man tilts his head with another squint, this one more challenging than curious. Amazing how he can squint in the same manner with just the slightest differences and change the entire composure of the movement.

But Dean doesn't let himself get too distracted by this ability, and soon encounters a moment of realisation.

The blushing, fidgeting, stumbling words when he talked about Castiel...

"Your name is Castiel," he whispers, astounded. "And you have three brothers." Then more realisation. "And you haven't met Chuck Shurley, you used to live with him."

Castiel pushes his lips out and looks down, scratches through the stubble on the edge of his jaw, nods.

"And I assume," Castiel says, squinting at the wooden triangle at the corner of Dean's desk and smiling, then continuing, "your name is Dean Winchester and you work as a librarian."

"Hey, I am not...a librarian," he protests playfully, grin growing on his teeth. "I am...a book obsessed...checker...outer."

Castiel laughs and Dean gives him a look for a moment before bursting out into his own fit of laughter at how utterly ridiculous that title sounds.

"I'm guessing that sounded better in your head?"

"It did," Dean nods and chucks the pen at one of the books, sitting back in his chair again and kicking his legs up onto his desk. He cranes his neck and reaches behind him, grips the back of another rolling chair, and rolls it over so it's facing him. Pats the seat and jerks his head. "Come on around." Castiel looks uncertain, sliding the torn paper into his pocket and pursing his lips, slight squint of his eyes. Dean chuckles. "Come on. I don't bite."

"Isn't that against the rules or something?" Castiel asks as he makes his way around the right side of the desk and through the opening in the side, in spite of his words.

"'Eah, mostly," Dean shrugs and pushes his lips out, then smiles. "But no one else is around, don't have any cameras, and-" he holds out a hand, "-I'm a rebel."

Castiel laughs wholeheartedly at this, grin huge and gummy - the most enchanting thing Dean's ever seen - and his head tilted back, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Dean notices a slight dimple in his left cheek and stores that information in the back of his mind for later, when he's having a rough day.

"What," he says, though he knows Castiel is laughing at his insanely stupid joking around.

"Nothing, you're just...really...interesting--"

"Interesting meaning...lame?" He squints and adds, "Dumbass, weirdo, bad amusement--"

"Hey, I genuinely laughed at that," Castiel points a finger at him, not hiding his grin.

Dean shakes his head, looks away, licks his lips. Things settle for a moment.

Dean plays with the hem of his black t-shirt, scratches his nails over the faded denim of his jeans, examines the familiar dark splotch of oil on the knee. He would dress nicer for work, but the last time anyone even walked through the doors was 48 hours ago, and he wasn't expecting any company today, either.

"Can't believe I'm flirting with the son of my favourite author," he mutters, reaching back over the back of his chair to snatch up another pen.

Castiel scoffs playfully, and Dean catches the smirk on his face when he turns back around.

"You call that flirting," Castiel quips, unbuttoning the wrists if his collared shirt and rolling the sleeves of both the shirt and jumper up.

Dean lets his brows drop and pushes his lips out in confusion. "Well...yeah..." Dean watches Castiel stifle a smile and glance down and away. "Why, what do you call it."

Castiel peeks up through mischievous, dark lashes and swimming eyes, lips parting in a secretive smirk.

"Honestly?" He starts, shifting in his seat and sitting back, settling his hands together in his lap. "A sad but sweet attempt to impress me."

"Oh, is that so?"

Castiel nods, grin growing across his cheeks.

"And what would you consider flirting, mr. big-shot-I-know-exactly-how-to-woo-the-ladies?"

"Well, first of all," Castiel leans forward, rests an elbow against his knee, uses the armrest to balance himself, and points at Dean with raised brows, as if he's about to teach a lesson. "Sir. There's a difference between being laid back and being downright cocky. And you-" the corner of his lips twitches up very briefly, and his cyan blue eyes turn dark "-are neither."

"So what, exactly," Dean whispers, fingers a bit too loosely woven around the pen, teeth digging into his lip. "Do you propose I do about it?"

Castiel's gummy smile is printed into his teeth again and he shrugs a shoulder, bringing his lips down in an impressed bow.

"Well, that's the first step. Ask what you are instead of asking what to change. When you know, even if it's not true, even if it's only what another person sees, you can accept it."

Dean squints, leaning further back into his chair, pressing his index finger into the ballpoint, black ink tip of the pen and the other to the textured top of the cap wrapped around the end, pushing his tongue into his cheek and pursing his lips.

"Alright, fine. What am I?" Dean imposes, then grips the tip of the pen between his thumb and finger and adds, "To you. Smartass."

This earns him a short chuckle and an approving nod.

"Well...I think...you're reserved. You act like you're king shit and like you know exactly who you are, like you don't give two flying fucks about where you're headed in life, or maybe like you've already accepted it. You act comfortable with yourself, but what nerd is ever actually satisfied with their existence?" He's leaning ever-forward and Dean's cocksure smile is ever-fading, eyes becoming wide with marvel as the man-who-knows-too-much continues. "I think you're unsure. You're scared and you...you hide things that you think no one cares about. You're upset and self-deprecating. Eyes of a guilty conscience."

Dean drops his gaze, first to the floor, then to the pen, still grasped tightly by his fingers which have fallen into his lap and which fiddle vapidly with the object, nail scraping at the black polycarbonate and over the white indents that spell out the company name.

"But," Castiel starts up again, voice soft and lilting. Dean swallows hard. "I think you have a lot to give. I think you have...maybe too much to give. Too much forgiveness, too much love, too much doubt, too much strength and care. I think you are the embodiment of generosity, but you don't take what you really need in return. And I think that can get dangerous, but I also think that nothing is ever really too much." Dean's eyes flit back up in time to catch Castiel's angling downward, past Dean's chair, through the desk, through the floor, staring wistfully at something intangible. "People are greedy. And you're too willing to give."

Dean searches the man's face for any sign that this is all some sort of joke, that he's being filmed or some shit, but all he finds is truth and wisdom and knowledge, and possibly a glimmer, just a glimpse in those blue eyes, of a bittersweet past, an origin for where these words came from.

"I was right!" He exclaims as he sits back in the chair, shoulders trembling with a silent laugh. "You like to cover up your pain with gay jokes and stupid references."

"Now, that, I can't deny," Dean nods and everything falls silent. He rocks his chair gently, side to side, left to right, fingers still fidgeting with the tips of the pen, his head tilted in thought. Castiel's mouth is pulled up into a ginger smile, his eyes faraway and swimming in themselves, in the past, in glistening memories and soft-edged, slow-motion, sunny-fielded dreams. "What about you?" He asks suddenly, voice crackling and ripping through the still air as a quiet question. Castiel eyes don't move but his smile grows slightly. "I mean...what do you think of yourself."

"Not much," he replies, head lolling to the side and back, eyes catching on the impotent, pathetic little piles of books scattered about Dean's desk. "I like books. Reading. Writing. Time-consuming, arbitrary activities which include my eyes scanning words on a piece of pressed wood?" He furrows his brows and Dean throws his head back in a genuine, full laughter that he hasn't experienced in a long time.

"I can tell you write. What do you write about? Like, schmoopy romance novels? Sci-fi thrillers? Action adventure futurism?"

"And I can tell you do a lot of librarian...ing..." Castiel squints and presses his lips together in the contrite afterthought but continues, nevertheless. "I write what my dad would call 'a bunch of gay shit'." Dean cocks a brow. "Get your head out of the gutter, it's not as sexy as it sounds. For the most part. Bottom line, I'm gay, I hang out with gay people, and I wanted to dedicate my life to writing about it, about that experience. But my dad has never approved much."

"You don't say."

"Yeah...he's...more into theology. I think the one book he's ever written that really ventures into the realm of fiction, or at least dips it's toes past the line, is An Angel's Lullaby."

"Which parts are real?" Dean scratches the pen across the bumpy plastic chair arm and watches the black ink run in splotches over the grey of the polyvinyl.

"Our names, obviously," Castiel shifts again, bringing his leg down from across his knee and kicking off from the floor so he spins in a circle. Dean watches with a strangely adoring smile. "It's funny that that's the part most people think is fiction. But, no. Mom was a Jesus nut and Dad is too passive to care, so we ended up with angelic names and weird looks from sane people. The only parts that aren't completely true are the things like our address, the colours they painted our rooms, some of the dialogue that he added or got rid of in order to make the conversations more interesting or sensible - you know, just these really inane things..."

He trails off and he's staring at Dean with expectant brows, and Dean realises he's staring too, realises Castiel probably stopped because it's weird how attentive he is.

"Sorry. You're fun to listen to."

Castiel's cheeks paint themselves a thick fuchsia and his eyes drop to his empty palms resting uselessly in his lap, the lines becoming suddenly very interesting. Then they catch on his watch and widen and his head whips up.

"Well, if I'm so interesting to listen to," he leans forward, snatches the pen from Dean's hand, then takes the other hand and begins a careful scrawl across the back of it as he continues, "why don't you call me. And we can figure out a time to meet at the-" he recaps the pen and gently replaces it in Dean's hand "-coffee place down the street. But, right now, I have to go. College...and shit. Studying for a major in English takes a lot of time away from socialising."

"Sorry to keep you, I didn't--"

"No no no! It was..." His blush deepens and he stands, head down. "It was incredible to meet you. I really hope I can see you again."

"O-Of course," Dean's voice comes out stammered and soft, crackling with hope and fear and adoration, and Castiel smiles broadly.

"Great," he whispers back, then he's rushing around the side of the desk and out the front door and Dean is left to wonder if the entire exchange was even real or if his lonely, empty mind is just playing games.

When he looks at the neat, black little numbers on his hand, he realises just how real right now is.

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wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey · 4 years

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MONICA YOU LOVED MANIC TOO??!?!? I'm overjoyed because I've only spoken to one (1) other person who really loved it & I feel so relieved, somehow, that you love it since you're the BEST OF US and what YOU love always gets right to the heart of a thing or a story. ANYWAY. Finally // and I Hate Everybody are my absolute favorites, and don't you think this album is like Ashley's version of Lover??? it's her most honest, and maybe lowest but also sweetest and steadiest album. I'M IN LOVE

YES YES YES YES YES I AM SOOO EXCITED YOU LOVE IT WILL YOU BE MY MANIC BUDDY *SINGS IT’S NICE TO HAVE A FRIEND WHO LOVES HALSEY*

also thank you sincerely and seriously so much for the glowing shoutout

#WONDER WOMAN SPEAKS MY HEART AND ALSO THIS IS SURPRISINGLY (?) RELEVANT TO THE ONCOMING STORM OF AN ESSAY

before I go any further I want to inform you I am drinking hot chocolate and Bailey’s out of my Batman/Catwoman mug and I still have Christmas lights up. This is not relevant to the following essay but I just thought you should know

I should start the essay shouldn’t I

First of all, I LOVE what you say about this being Ashley’s version of Lover. Both are a...finding of self, more or less complete. This isn’t to say that Taylor’s journey is over—she still has a lot of life and song left to fight through and to enjoy—but by the last words of “Daylight,” it seems to me that through all her struggles, she has finally discovered how to be gentle with herself and how to light her world.

I want to be defined by the things I love,

Not the things I hate

Not the things I am afraid of, I’m afraid of,

The things that haunt me in the middle of the

night, I

I just think that you are what you love.

In Lover, through Lover, by Lover, Taylor is whole again in her soul, and being thus whole and free, her future is quietly hopeful—even in the reality of the sorrowful “Soon You’ll Get Better” (which I still cannot listen to because it wounds my heart). I cannot imagine what she will do next, for she has the most expansive possibilities ahead of her.

Going back to Ashley, or Halsey, well, I can say nothing so clear about Manic other than that it aches. It aches because the whole thing is a confession. It is a spilling out of herself, all her hurts and frustrations and failures and most importantly the confusion of it all that lasts till this day and may last many more. Somehow, somewhere, in all this mess, I feel that by the end of the album, Ashley has found a grain of peace. She is still searching, still longing for things she maybe doesn’t even understand, but she understands herself, and, I hope, understands in a small way that it is okay to be in a state of longing and aching and messing up and trying again.

I’m sleepy so I’m not sure I am being coherent or cohesive, forgive me. I’m just going to say a few things about my favorite songs!

“Ashley.” So this wasn’t the first song I listened to, because of the singles released earlier. But how powerful is it that Halsey opens up with her name? There is nothing I like better than an album that tells a story (surprise!) and the instant I saw the track listing, I was shook.

Seems like now it's impossible to work this outI'm so committed to an old ghost townIs it really that strange if I always wanna change?And if only the time and space between us wasn't lonelyI'd disintegrate into a thousand piecesI think I'm making a mistakeBut if I decide to break, who will fill the empty space?

This verse—I don’t know if it is just where I am in my own life, but really, who hasn’t felt this strange rending of desires in some capacity. Cling to the past? Leap toward the unknown? I want to live near my parents forever, and see my mom every Sunday like I have for years now. I want to live in a foreign country, or even out near my old college, or heck even live in a city for year or six months, just because it would be an Experience. (Couldn’t live there indefinitely, not this girl who loves endless trees and hills and warm summer night country roads and rustling corn.)

How do we know what to do? How do we decide? What if we get left alone, with no one to comfort and support us? What if we cannot handle the consequences of our choices?

Apart from my beating heartIt's a muscle but it's still not strong enoughTo carry the weight of the choices I've madeI told you I'd ride this outIt's getting harder every day somehowI'm bursting out of myself

LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT IT! I DARE YOU TO SAY THIS IS NOT A UNIVERSAL EMOTION. THIS IS WHAT THE ALBUM WILL BE ABOUT SO IF YOU CANNOT OPEN YOUR HEART AND BE PREPARED TO FEEL EMPATHY AND COMPASSION FOR THE YOUNG WOMAN WHO IS ABOUT TO SPILL HER GUTS TO YOU THEN GET OUT OF MY HOUSE

Ahem, I’m sorry, please stay, I don’t actually want you to go. Just sit down and I’ll give you your own hot chocolate. But listen. Ashley is, before anything, a human being. Therefore, she is going to mess up, just the same as any of us, maybe more, maybe less, but that is never going to take away a speck of her intrinsic worth, or the way that God loves her. Her struggles will not obliterate her humanity, but if I ignore her sorrows, her need for something more, her brilliance and strength and longing to love, then I would nigh obliterate my own.

Also, can I just say she has gone through some REALLY hard things in her life, things I couldn’t imagine, and for her to be where she is now—I just want the best for her. Do I agree with everything she does or believes? No. Is my life at all similar to hers? Not really. But I still feel a kinship with her, and it bleeds through in her music.

This is getting away from me isn’t it. I’m just trying to say that Manic struck a chord in my heart that has been reverberating ever since I first perceived it.

Oh gosh it is 12:30, I have to be up at 6. I’m going to fly through a few other songs and then you can message me about the rest or something 😊

“Clementine” has such color, doesn’t it? Also the line about her wondering what it’s like to be the blood in her veins—I love it!

“Graveyard” with the thing you love the most being the detriment—not going to lie, this is a story song for me, it fits into the Gold Rush Silmarillion AU I am co-authoring. Feanor and his own pride, Maedhros and half the people he loves, Fingon and Maedhros—the list could go on.

“You should be sad” and “More” gutted me because I had only just learned she has endometriosis, and has experienced a miscarriage before.

“Forever...(is a long time)”:

It's a nice surprise knowing six feet highWould reach and grab the moon if I should ask

Or just imply that I want you to be more lightSo I could look inside his eyesAnd get the colors just right

And

What am I thinking? What does this mean?How could somebody ever love me?

Self-doubt and questioning one’s ability to be loved ☹

“Without Me” gets stuck in my head and I LOVE IT I SING IT.

Found you when your heart was brokeI filled your cup until it overflowedTook it so far to keep you close (Keep you close)I was afraid to leave you on your own

Is there anything more painful than giving all of yourself to someone, loving them so much that you do anything to help them heal—and then all they do is hurt you.

“Finally// beautiful stranger” I’m ashamed to say the first time I listened to it I wasn’t paying attention and so I was like eh it’s fine. THEN I LISTENED TO IT AGAIN. WHY IS THIS SONG HALSEY’S “ENCHANTED” (I can probably explain this, but just after I’ve had sleep)

“killing boys” there are a lot of things I could say about this song but the main thing I want to say is if there was a song that is ME regarding the sound of it only, it is this one. When she sings “you don’t need me anymore” and “I don’t need you anymore” OOH IT GETS ME IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL

Also

Told me pick my battles and be picking 'em wiseBut I wanna pick 'em all and I don't want to decideNo more, no more, anymore

THIS IS THAT TUMBLR THING “MY MOM LIKES TO TELL ME ‘YOU HAVE TO PICK YOUR BATTLES’ WELL I’M FULL OF RAGE AND I’M PICKING ALL OF THEM”

ALSO ALSO GETTING INTO THE LYRICS THIS IS HER MOVING ON, THIS IS HER DECISIVELY SAYING NO THIS NOT RIGHT THIS IS HARMFUL TO ME I AM DONE. AND FOR SOMEONE WHO HAS EXPRESSED UNCERTAINTY AND DIFFICULTY MAKING DECISIONS, IT SO GOOD TO SEE HER MAKE A HEALTHY CHOICE FOR HERSELF

“Suga’s Interlude:” LOOK YOU LOVE BTS TOO SO I’M SURE YOU KNOW THE STORY OF HOW IT CAME TO BE AND YOU KNOW ALL ABOUT BTS AND THEIR RELATIONSHIP WITH HALSEY BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THE READERS LET ME SUM UP

Halsey did a collaboration with BTS called “Boy with Luv” and it shook the charts and is wonderful and I love it. Not only did they create that song though, but she flew out to South Korea and learned the dance choreography so that she could sing and dance in the song’s music video. This was the beginning of a beautiful, cross-language, cross-cultural friendship that has involved friendship bracelets, churros, a personalized microphone, and mutual teasing.

Anyway, Halsey had been really impressed with BTS member Suga, saying “Yoongi is really introspective and has this really intelligent perspective on where we are and what we are doing in our unique lifestyles.” She also was moved by the hard work and sacrifices he (and his fellow band members) have made. Anyway, she asked Suga to write and sing a song with her. He was initially surprised, saying that he can’t rap in English. Halsey, gem that she is, was like bro, pls rap in Korean, that would be awesome. Pardon me for copying half the lyrics for this song but to me it is pivotal in Manic as a whole:

I’ve been trying all my lifeTo separate the timeIn between the having it allAnd giving it up, yeah...

Here is the conflict and strife that Halsey has dealt with all her life—there is fear of loss there, and also fear of what one has. The power it has over you. The way things might go wrong.

I believe your faith, efforts, beliefs, and greed,are not hideous...Although the dawn right before the sun rises is the darkest,Never forget that the stars that you wish for,can only rise within the dark...

Suga reminding himself, Halsey, and us to cling to hope, ragged and worn, even in the most difficult of times. Also—in the face of our insecurities and self-recrimination for the goals we set—he tell us that our deepest parts are valid

If I run endlessly towards the end of the tunnel,what will there beIt’s true, it’s honestly differentfrom the future that I had hoped forBut it doesn’t matter, now it’s a matter of living/survivingIt doesn’t matter what happenedYeah yeah it might bedifferent from the things that you expectedYour living and your loving might changeThat’s true That’s true That’s trueYeah so are you gonna moveWe’re still too youthful and young to hesitateLet’s face it (our lives)...

This, this verse is so important. Look back at the song “Ashley”, particularly the lines I already quoted. Indecision because the fear of what might be, of what failure could do, wrecking her worse than ever, with no one to help her. Indecision because of a nostalgia that might be bitter or softly sad, what was past was at least known. It was good perhaps, it was awful more likely. But it was gotten through. There is no guarantee that Halsey will be able to get through whatever the future holds. But Suga comes in here, having faced struggles similar at their core, and he embodies the Nike slogan. Just DO IT. Don’t hold yourself back. Don’t let yourself drown, stuck in sinking mud. Embrace the unknown. If you let fear hold you back, you are as good as dead. There will be no growth, no hope battling through the dark for something better. You have to MOVE! And maybe you were right, things will never be the same, or the way you want it to be, but MAYBE THE DIFFERENT WILL BE BETTER!!!

Anyway, this section really should have been its own essay, because I’m still not done with it. You may have noticed I have been calling them Halsey and Suga, and the song is indeed called “Suga’s Interlude” but this song is so deep and personal to them both, it feels wrong to use their stage names. This is Ashley speaking, this is Yoongi speaking. Halsey posted a cute, stick figure drawing as artwork for the song, and the two singers are pictured there—and named as Ashley and Yoongi. This song is not just a collaboration by two talented artists, this is a look into the souls of a woman and a man who’ve shed blood, sweat, and tears to become the people they are. This intimacy fits the whole theme of the album so well, I LITERALLY CANNOT

I am so sorry I will move on now. It is 2:00 am. I need to go to bed. I am not. I need to talk about 929.

Well first let me say that “Still Learning” is also super important to the theme of the album.

I know that I've done some wrongBut I'm trying to make it rightDid the one I love do me wrong?Give me up right now

I know that I love you but I'm still learningTo love myself (to love my, to love my, to love my)I'm still learning to love myself (to love my, to love my, to love my)

She has made confessions and declarations and sung her frustration, and now she is moving forward. The road may be long and hard, but she is moving forward. I had something else to say but I forgot it sorry.

And NOW

929!!!!

This song miiiiight be my favorite on the album, not sure. My heart trembles and I get chills listening to it, because the music and her voice are so gentle and soothing but the lyrics are essentially a list of moments that have been needles and knives to Ashley, all her fears revealed, that she wasn’t enough then and she isn’t enough now, that the girl with the pink hair lied when she said that everyone needed Ashley. It’s a soft confession, a stream of consciousness, so it was written and so I hear it. And in this moment, how can I not love her? How can I not cry for her, for me, for anyone and everyone who struggles with self-worth, with being wanted, with being loved, with loving, with forgiving self and others?Halsey is flawed, and I just want to give her extra love because of that.

But you know what? I think she is going to be ok.

This is where I want to go back and compare Manic to Lover. There is this knowledge of the self, a kind of peace with who one is. I don’t mean that either Taylor or Ashley have reached their pinnacle of self, but they see themselves a little more clearly, and are not suppressing that knowledge.

929 sounds like water gently pouring out of a pitcher into a basin, and water, properly placed, does not drown but gives life. There is hope by the end of this song, hope despite her difficult life, hope despite the fact that she was never even telling the truth about her time of birth. (That story could be a despairing one, the “I’m a fucking liar” could be the miniscule mistake that breaks her after all the rest of her mistakes, but instead...I don’t know she just sounds kind of amused, like even if she is disappointed or upset about it, there is still this “oh well, whatever, can’t believe that happened lol” to her voice and laughter. She knows who she is now, and there is a better woman she might be, but she is not angry with herself for being who she is, and she will move forward, letting go of her ghost towns and all her fears.

Let me end with a quote about 929: “I just start spilling all of my thoughts about myself and my fans and my family, and I admit so many faults and flaws all in one go. It’s forgiving, however, it ends with the acknowledgment that I am learning and growing, minute by minute.”

Ashley, like Taylor, is making a new start. They have both found a sort of daylight, and though there may always be shadows, I really really hope that they will know mostly sun, and spread it around for others.

ALSO I JUST REALIZED I COULD NOW BE SOMEONE’S MANIC PIXIE DREAMGIRL :D

*Disclaimer: I AM SO FREAKING TIRED I AM GOING TO BED, THIS WHOLE THING IS ENTIRELY UNEDITED, ALSO I LEFT SOME SONGS OUT OOPS WELL TWO OF THEM I DON’T CARE FOR AS MUCH BUT I THINK I FORGOT 3 AM WHICH I DO LIKE BUT I AM NOT GOING BACK TO WRITE ABOUT IT NOW. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE RAMBLING MESS AND LACK OF ELOQUENCE BUT HERE WE BE THIS IS WHAT YOU GET HOPE IT MADE YOU SMILE

#halsey #manic #taylor swift #lover #madamescarlette #eden you know I will want to hear your thoughts #which will be so much more well-written then mine lol #asks #<3 <3 <3

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