#jeremy takes jean to his home on a holiday and jean immediately understands why jeremy shines so bright

[creaaki]

I've been reading jerejean fics and I love how at one point everybody agreed that Jeremy comes from a crowded household with many siblings. My boy KNOWS how to deal with shit smoothly because he probably has a long history of:

Pulling back together after realising he isn't the No1 priority at the moment, winning heated arguments with minutes of patience and bullshitting just because, counseling of hours after one of his sisters' break-ups or brothers' breakdowns over a fight with their parents, being compared to them, parenting the little ones when mom and dad aren't home, sharing a bed with others when guests are staying over on holidays, falling asleep in one of their beds after a nightmare, waking up with one of them under his blankets some other day, crossing the hallway on his tippy toes at 3am and finding the kitchen already has its lights on filled with quiet whispers to not wake their parents up (there's always a gossip going around about the mom's side of the family, and he still remembers the first day his big sister didn't sent him back to bed because he is now one of the grown-ups.), quietly opening his window at midnight to let his brother sneak back into home after a party which Mrs and Mr Knox would not approve of, spending exactly eleven minutes to figure out how to slice the pie mom made evenly because this nine-year-old has to have some issues for fucking God's sake.

Jeremy always had someone looking out for him, and someone to look out for. He knows the importance of trust and respect and love and everything that you need to give people to be family. Jeremy values family. It's only normal when he makes the Trojans his new crowded loud family after leaving the house.

He adores Trojans, he wants them to be happy, he wants them to be happy while playing Exy. So he does everything he can to make them fall in love with Exy, not winning because he doesn't want his sisters and brothers to break themselves apart like he did in high school when he heard a teacher say "A shame the young Knox is nothing like his brother". He trusts his team, he knows they will fight with all they have until the last moment, they always do.

When he expresses his new plan to his team he's well aware they might lose. Foxes played the whole season with nine people, and it's a complete new thing for Trojans. He isn't afraid, though; not all of the team think of it as a good idea at first, but they all come around at some point and decide to give it a try, because they love playing Exy and hungry for improvement and it's going to be fun and a little fair, too, because the Foxes are actually nice people and what are they playing for if they're going to freak out and keep their weaknesses a weakness?

They lose, and the first thing Alvarez does after leaving the court is to barge into the men's changing room with Laila following her and express her remarks on the match, not so politely. ("No, but how the-"). Second thing she does is to tell Jeremy her suggestions on changing the training drills slightly to adapt the team into building up more stamina, she got these ideas on the court, by the way. Jeremy can't scold her for not focusing on the game because she was focused, and he is kind of scared of her. They still have their party, and decide to gather in Jeremy's room for the night, turning the party to a slumber one. Jeremy doesn't mind being squished. In fact, you could say he is very, very happy in the morning despite the sweat and dampness, all off the Trojans peacefully breathing and cuddling each other makes his chest warm.

The next year, Jeremy knows they will win. He told the Trojans they would, and they trust him. He just knows. And they do win. His room is a little more crowded now, with the new freshmen and their seniors who graduated last year (he thought they should invite them, the Trojans owe their seniors for them giving up on the trophy last year).

Jeremy thinks he loves both his families.

#jeremy would do anything for the trojans #he just will #and when jean arrives jeremy thinks my family might have problems but everyone will be HAPPY #jean never had a real family and jeremy is determined to make him not long for one #he wont let jean not live his life #last year jeremy shared his bed with the trojans because of the lack of space #but not this year #this year there's only jean beside him because he still needs time #jeremy takes jean to his home on a holiday and jean immediately understands why jeremy shines so bright #jeremy's mom knits jean a sweater on christmas because i need her to #jeremy's inviting jean to his first ever family and jean accepts it because i need him to be loved #go mr sunshine go give the french boy a hug because he fucking needs it #i love them so much #and jeremy knox is literally so perfect they are so perfect for each other #jeremy knox #all for the game #jean moreau #jerejean #the kings men #the sunshine court #i didn’t sleep last night #or will not tonight #i didn't intend this to be this long shit

[freudensteins-monster]

Spy vs Poli-Sci

Initially inspired by this post. Just one of my many, many WIP's. I was going through my folder and reviewing some of them and figured I could get this one sewn up easily enough. Could have been better, and I could have tired harder with the ending, but I just wanted to get it out of my WIP folder without, you know, deleting it. :s

The Asset wasn’t built for espionage, as his metal arm could attest, but as it was mid-November his bulky layers and leather gloves wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention. At least that’s what his handlers had said, in his general vicinity, and the Asset wasn’t capable of arguing with them. He wasn’t capable of wanting to argue with them.

The mission itself was simple; Go to the meeting point, approach the contact, get the package, go to the extraction point. Simple.

The dark van pulled up in the blind spot of a parking garage three blocks out from the agreed upon meeting place and the Asset’s handlers went over his mission parameters again.

Go to Starbucks across the street from the railway station. Locate the contact. They will be seated in the corner booth wearing a blue shirt. Give them the ID challenge and wait for them to respond correctly before taking a seat. Get the package. Get out. Go to the extraction point.

The Asset nodded in understanding and exited the parking garage, staying out of security camera sight lines, and walked the three blocks to the designated meeting point. If the Asset had the ability to question his orders he would have thought it strange that he was being sent to meet another operative. From what he’d overheard, and filed away as irrelevant to the mission, the contact worked for an organisation that was uneasy about hiring a ghost, they’d wanted to see him in the flesh (and metal) to see if he was worth the price tag. Not that it mattered to the Asset; he went where he was told to go, killed who he was told to kill.

The Asset approached the coffee house, his training and programming causing him to be on the lookout for any suspicious persons or vehicles. He stepped inside, automatically registering the exits and categorising potential threats in the room. He remained motionless as patrons tried to squeeze passed his broad frame while he quickly surveyed the room and located his contact; corner table, blue shirt, female. That last part had been omitted from his briefing but it was of no consequence to the Asset. He had worked with female operatives before, he had trained some of the best ones, and the brunette at the corner table, hugging a ceramic mug to her chest as she peered down at a book, was definitely one of the better ones, judging by how utterly comfortable she was in her surroundings.

He found the most efficient path through the maze of customers and approached her table, his gloved metal hand resting on the empty chair opposite her.

“How’s the coffee?” he challenged in Russian.

His contact tore her eyes, bright blue and framed by glasses, away from her book to glance up at him, a bashful smile playing on her lips as those same eyes looked him over.

“Uh… I wouldn’t know, I’m drinking tea,” she responded correctly in awkward, heavily accented Russian.

The Asset nodded in acceptance and sat down opposite Darcy Lewis.

** *** **

I hate blind dates, Darcy whined before reluctantly agreeing to one.

I really hate blind dates, she thought as she checked her watch to confirm that her date was most definitely late.

I am never speaking to my brother again, she swore half an hour later as she gave up all hope of her date showing up, digging a paperback out of her bag.

She’d been travelling around with Jane, zigzagging across Europe, from observatory to observatory, ever since SHIELD tricked them into going to Norway.

“It’s a perfect opportunity to blah blah blah…”

It had been exciting in those first few days, just like it had been immediately after Thor left and Jane kicked her research into high gear. Jane’s enthusiasm was contagious even if Darcy still didn’t really understand the science, but after four months of non-stop sciencing Darcy needed a break. So when Jane finally decided to call it quits and head back to the States (“There’s totally some space event that can best be viewed from deserts of Arizona, and an old college professor who can totally hook you up with some telescope time, isn’t there?”) Darcy decided to peel off and just be a twenty-something tourist for a while, with the promise of meeting back up with Jane when she finally ran out of money. It was when she’d just decided it time to move on from Prague and make her way to the pizza capital of the world when her brother finally got in touch with her after seeing facebook posts of her jealousy-inducing holiday snaps.

“How much longer are you in Prague for?” he’d asked.

“Uh, maybe another day or two. Why? Want me to pick up you up a souvenir?”

“I want you to meet my friend for a date.”

“What?!”

“You remember my first college roommate?”

“The guy that dropped out to become a metal guitarist before the end of the first semester?”

“Yeah, him. He’s been travelling across Europe with his band. He’s in Germany right now but he should be in Prague on Tuesday. You should meet him for coffee.”

“Why, Charlie?” she’d whined. “I’ve never even met the guy before, and you know how I hate blind dates… and you’ve totally already told him I’d do it, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” her older brother had laughed. “C’mon, Darce. He’s homesick and tired of being on the road with three Norwegians and a weird as fuck Estonian. He’s needs something familiar.”

“And nothing says ‘home’ like meeting a stranger in a Starbucks,” Darcy grumbled.

“Please, Darce? He sounded so miserable last time I spoke to him I wanted to Fedex him a freaking puppy.”

“Fine,” Darcy sighed loudly. “But I was planning on leaving on Tuesday at the latest so he’s going to have to meet me at the Starbucks across the street from the train station. At ten,” she added after quickly checking the train timetable. “So, tell me more about him. What’s the name of his band?”

“Nuclear Casket.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

Darcy’s thoughts of vengeance against her brother were halted by a shadow falling across her book.

“How’s the coffee?” a gravelly voice asked in Russian and Darcy groaned internally. Of course her brother had to tell him about her massacring the Russian language during Jane’s stay at the Pulkovo Astronomical Observatory, which led to her asking existential questions like, “Am I a coffee?”

Darcy took that embarrassment and folded it into her annoyance at the tardiness of her date, and had been fully prepared to rant at him, but one look at the man standing before her and she completely forget her frustration. His hair was long and his expression grim, but in his hoodie and dark jeans he looked more like an undercover cop than the politically active metal guitarist her brother had raved about. It was a really good look for him.

“Uh… I wouldn’t know,” she blushed, scrambling to remember the right words. “I’m drinking tea.”

He sat down across from her and as the lull in conversation became an awkward pause Darcy quickly rediscovered her earlier irritation.

“Seriously, you’re not even going to apologise for being, like, an hour late?” she snapped in English, earning her a confused expression.

The Asset wondered why his contact was affecting, rather perfectly, an American accent, but then he took stock of her appearance, and accepted it as a smart tactic; an American tourist didn’t warrant a second look.

“I’m two minutes early,” he replied confidently without needed to glance at a timepiece.

“What? What time did he give you?” she demanded.

“1100 hours.”

“Fucking idiot,” Darcy muttered, shooting off a text to that affect to her brother. “I swear, Charlie would have forgotten his own name if mom hadn’t written on his underwear. And yours is… Jimmy? Johnny? Jeremy? Shit,” she laughed. “I guess I’m just as bad.”

The Asset blanched as his contact stared at him expectantly. He had not been provided with a cover identity, it had not been deemed necessary. The Asset was not a person.

“Jimmy,” he replied, clinging to the first option. The name felt strange on his tongue, and didn’t sit quite right. “James,” he tried again. That was better, but still not right.

“Hi James, I’m Darcy,” she smiled, reaching across the table.

The Asset stared at her hand for a moment before shaking it. He hadn’t be prepared for such interactions. He hadn’t been programmed to make small talk. He was just supposed to take the package – an envelope with information on his next target – and go to the extraction point. Why was she dragging the meeting out? Did his new employers distrust his reputation so much that they would send one of their best operatives to size him up?

“So,” she sighed when he failed to make conversation. “I was expecting you, like, an hour ago, and now I’ve got to leave in ten minutes to make my train. I guess we’ll have to make do with the basics. So… name, rank, and serial number?” she teased.

The Asset flinched. He didn’t have an answer for her question, so why did it feel like he did? Why was he feeling anything?

“I don’t understand,” he muttered in disused English, more to himself than her. “I was just supposed to get the package.”

“Oh, right,” Darcy replied, remembering the request Charlie had made on her dates behalf. But perhaps she had this whole ‘blind date’ thing wrong. Or maybe Charlie oversold it to her just to be annoying. Apparently she was just supposed to act as the musician’s dealer.

She reached into her bag, not noticing how James tensed up and watched her movements, and dropped a bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in front of him. She never travelled without an emergency stash of American candy and she decided she was happy to part with the last of it if it made the guy across from her lose the kicked puppy expression.

The Asset stared at the bag of candy in utter confusion. He looked at his contact again, studying her closely, noting her lack of defined musculature and an absence of any hidden weapons, and realised his mistake; she was an American tourist.

He stood up to leave, only for the girl to stand with him.

“Hey,” she called, pressing the bag into his hand. “It’ll be alright,” she promised him with a sweet smile. “Just… have some candy, go out and have a few drinks with some American backpackers, get a good night’s sleep…” she rambled.

Darcy deliberated a full second before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. The Asset instinctively went to break her hold but froze when he realised it wasn’t an attack, it was an act of affection. The Asset wasn’t sure how he knew what affection was, his handlers certainly didn’t touch him like she did, but the Asset decided it was… nice.

“I have to go,” he said, reluctantly pulling away.

“Sure, just… call Charlie any time, regardless of the time difference, he won’t mind a bit,” she lied with a smirk.

The Asset tried to replicate the movement of her lips in reply before leaving the civilian in the coffee shop. He was barely halfway to the extraction point when a familiar dark van pulled up alongside him and ushered him in.

“We just got word that the contact was taken out in transit. You should not have waited so long to… what is that?” his handler asked him, all eyes in the van dropping to the orange bag held tightly in the Asset’s metal hand.

“Candy,” the Asset replied distantly as he recalled every detail of his interaction with the woman in the coffee shop. “32557038…” he muttered to himself, earning more worried glances from the heavily armed men in the van.

“What does that mean?” one of them demanded.

“I… I’m not sure,” he admitted.

His handler pulled out a red book and read from it, putting the Asset to sleep. He awoke screaming, strapped into the Chair, as electricity purged Darcy’s smile from his memory.

** *** **

Darcy was claiming a bunk in a rather picturesque backpacker hostel in Vienna when her brother called her back.

“Darce, I’m so sorry.”

“Say it with money transfers,” she shot back with a smirk.

“Jake was really looking forward to meeting you, but their van broke down as they crossed the border. They’re still stuck there waiting for it to get fixed.”

“Wait… what?”

** *** **

A few years later, after moving back Stateside following the Dark Elves debacle, Darcy stumbled out of her bedroom in search of coffee (an addiction she tried to kick between university courses) to find Jane sorting through a pile of notes that had been dumped on the coffee table whilst some breakfast news program played in the background. Darcy paid Jane no further mind until she took her first sip of coffee, sighing gratefully, and stood behind the couch to see what was happening in the world. Darcy blinked.

“Uh, Jane… why is my blind date making headlines?”

** *** **

Bucky had known Darcy Lewis was living at the Avengers compound for three months before he decided to approach her. She was seated in the lounge of the common room, holding a mug of something warm in one hand and balancing a tablet on her knee with the other.

“How’s the coffee?” he challenged, smiling as her shocked expression quickly softened.

“I wouldn’t know, I’m drinking tea,” she smiled back.

They regarded each other for several moments before nerves got the better of Bucky.

“Can I… Do you mind if I sit?”

“How about you get me a refill first,” she smirked, handing him her mug. “I feel like you’ve got one hell of a story to tell me.”

Boy, did he ever. And so he told her, all that he could remember, over several cups of tea. Darcy, he’d learnt, was extremely tactile, constantly reaching for him, and he couldn’t help but reciprocate in kind, and by the time he reached the part of the story that Darcy remembered they were practically sitting on top of each other. He’d thrown his metal arm behind her, resisting the instinct to yawn like he’d done so many times a lifetime ago, whilst the other strayed to her knees (she’d stretched her legs over his lap about five minutes into his story) as he recalled seeing her for the first time across a crowded café. He remembered the moment, and Darcy’s kindness, with great fondness, but the moment was ruined by an unladylike snort.

“What’s so funny?” Bucky grumbled as he attempted to glare at the girl in his lap.

“You thought I was a spy!” Darcy giggled hysterically.

Bucky groaned, burying his head in the crook of her neck, trying (and failing) not to notice the way Darcy’s ample chest moved against his as she laughed.

“What?” Darcy prodded as Bucky mumbled something into her skin.

“Corner table, blue shirt,” Bucky repeated when he lifted his head. “You fit the description, and you responded to the ID challenge correctly. How was I to know you weren’t my contact?”

“I think your first clue should have been that my blue shirt had cartoon breakfast foods on it,” she snorted. “What kind of spy wears shirts like that?”

“One pretending to be a college-aged American tourist,” Bucky retorted weakly.

“I was a college-aged American tourist.”

“Yeah, I figured that out. Eventually.”

They laughed about it for several minutes before Darcy got up to get refills on their tea. Bucky suggested they switch to beer, later that night, when he took her out to dinner. Darcy happily agreed.

#freudensteins-fics #spy vs poli-sci #darcy lewis #bucky barnes #wintershock #mistaken identity #winter soldier!bucky barnes #asset!bucky barnes #fanfiction