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#julie has weird dreams

raredrop · 25 days

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dream ended with the power going out that it woke me up

#rest of that dream was like ????#the heck is going on #i think that was the same one maybe it was another #julie has weird dreams

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harrysfolklore · 7 months

Note

ALSO, i would 100% eat up the blurb ab bandmate!by releasing an album with a harry feature🩷🩷

FIRST BLURB OF OUR TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION <333 i really hope you like everything i’ll post this week, as usual let me know your thoughts 💗

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by harrystyles, pillowpersonpp and 653,937 others

yourinstagram countdown till love on tour is over has begun and i’m crying already

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harryfan1 FELT THIS

paulithepsm legend

harryfan2 crazy to think that this tour basically gave him a relationship with THEE harry styles

annetwist ❤️

harrystyles 😢

↳ harryfan3 SAME HARRY SAME

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 9,927 others

bassrry I MET HARRY AND YN TODAY IN MUNICH !! i told them that they’re like my parents and yn said “well when are the signing the adoptions papers” and harry only laughed and kissed her heard THEY’RE SO IN LOOVEEE

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harryfan1 OMFGGGG

harryfan2 CONGRATS IM SO JELOUS

harryfan3 i love how yn is bold and harry acts shy my fairytale couple

bassrry OH AND ALSO i told yn that i was going to miss her on stage and she said that she was going to miss it too but we might see her on stage again very soon and harry was like “shhh love that’s a secret” THEY DEF HAVE SOMETHING UP THEIR SLEEVES

↳ harryfan1 OMFG

↳ harryfan2 LOVE ON TOUR IS FOREVER

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harrystyles Love On Tour. Warsaw. July, 2023.

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harryfan1 BABYYYYYYYYYY

harris_reed Our little canary 💛

yourinstagram i’ll be dreaming about this crowd for the rest of forever

↳ harryfan2 AHH THEY LOVED US

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 209,826 others

fullstopmgmt YN. Welcome to the Full Stop & Erskine family.

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harryfan1 OMG SLAYYY

harryfan2 she’s officially signed as an artist that’s so dope

harryfan3 harry’s first nepo baby

↳ yourinstagram nepo girlfriend so true

harrystyles 🙌🏻

harryfan4 I CANT WAIT TO HEAR HER MUSIC

liked by harrystyles, jennylewis and 826,976 others

yourinstagram WET DREAM. THE DEBUT SINGLE OUT THIS FRIDAY.

RUSH! THE DEBUT ALBUM. OUT SEPTEMBER 25TH.

I CANT BELIEVE I’M TYPING THIS

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harryfan1 OMFGGGGG

jefezoff 🐐

harryfan2 THIS IS SO SLAY

harryfan3 wait does this mean she’s leaving the love band ???

annetwist Congratulations dear ❤️

harrystyles I’m insanely proud, bandmate x

↳ harryfan1 she’s basically harry’s first nepo baby awww

tayrussell 🤍

↳ harryfan2 SLAY

HARRY VIA INSTAGRAM STORIES

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harrystyles My bandmate just released her debut single. She’s pretty cool and talented, and she’s also the love of my life. Listen to ‘Wet Dream’ now x

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harryfan1 AHHHHHHH

pillowpersonpp 🥺💕

harryfan2 THE SONG IS SO GOOOOOD

yourinstagram couldn’t have done this without you, boss man. ily 😢

harryfan3 i’ll be streaming yessir

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 10,027 others

harryupdates HARRY AND YN PERFORMING HER SONG WET DREAM IN LISBON TONIGHT !!

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harryfan1 OMFG

harryfan2 THEY WON SO HARD

harryfan3 MY PARENTS ACTUALLY

harryfan4 IM GOING TO MISS THEM SO MUCH

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harrystyles Love On Tour. Lisbon. July, 2023.

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harryfan1 ONE MORE SHOW IM NOT OKAY

gemmastyles ❤️

harryfan2 DONT LEAVEEEEE

yourinstagram look at us being rockstars together

harryfan3 SOBBING IM SOBBING

liked by damianodvd, harrystyles and 864,308 others

yourinstagram the world of harry styles and LOT ruled and changed mine, and I wanted to take a moment to thank you all from the absolute bottom of my heart. I’m very much having all the complex feels that could ever possibly come with closing this chapter, but I have some weird faith that the next one is going to be incredible, as long as you're by my side @harrystyles. I hope I’ll see you all somewhere out there along the way…we’ll be alright.

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harryfan1 AWEEEE

harryfan2 IM CRYING

harrystyles Thank you for coming into my life, bandmate, and giving me all of those little gay skirts. I love you.

paulithepsm ❤️

harryfan3 I LOVE THEM SO BAD

FANS VIA TWITTER

liked by harrystyles, estehaim and 1,002,017 others

yourinstagram RUSH! COVER AND TRACKLIST IS HERE

AHHHH i'm over the moon about this! thank you to everyone who helped my vision come to life, i can't wait for you to hear it

and the rumors are true, we got mr @harrystyles on a track and you're going to love it

OUT SEPTEMBER 25TH

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harryfan1 OMFGGGGG

jefezoff 🙌🏻

harryfan2 HARRY'S FIRST COLLAB EVER IS WITH YN !!!!! HOW ICONIC OMG

mitchrowland Legends.

harryfan3 THIS IS GOING TO BE SOOOO GOOD

harrystyles Thank you for having me x

↳ harryfan4 AHHHHH

liked by yourinstagram, spaceykacey and 6,094,389 others

harrystyles RUSH! is out. I'm beyond proud of everything that you are, and I feel tremendously honored to be part of this @yourinstagram. Listen to the debut album by YN now.

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harryfan1 OMFGGGGGG

pillowpersonpp Congratulations buddies ❤

mtv We're not crying you are

harryfan2 UMM THE RIVER IS THE SONG OF THE YEAR WTFFFF THEIR VOICES SOUND AMAZING TOGETHER

yourinstagram thank you for letting be your first nepo baby. ily

↳ harryfan3 PLEASEEE I LOVE HER

↳ harryfan4 she embraces it

liked by harrystyles, haimtheband and 1,003,389 others

yourinstagram !!!!!! SEE YOU THERE. A LOT OF SURPRISES COMING

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harryfan1 SO ICONIC

haimtheband We're ready 🤘🏻

harryfan2 harry's first ever gig as a solo artist was there too HOW BEAUTIFUL

jefezoff 👀

harryfan3 YALL WHAT IF HARRY SHOWS UP ON STAGE

↳ harryfan4 I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE SAME THING

harrystyles I'll definitely see you there x

↳ harryfan1 HIS ASS IS SO PERFORMING

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 7,098 others

harryupdates HARRY PERFORMING THE RIVER WITH YN TONIGHT AT THE TROUBADOUR !!

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harryfan1 AHHHH

harryfan2 I WAS THERE IT WAS AMAZING

harryfan3 OH MY FUCKING GOD

harryfan4 i still cant belive harry's first ever and propably only collab was with yn

harryfan5 ROCKSTARS

liked by harrystyles, sabrinacarpenter and 1,012,065 comments

yourinstagram ofc im getting a RUSH! tattoo because this project has changed my life and i can't believe it's the #1 album in the world right now

THANK YOU

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harryfan1 SO HAPPY FOR HER

pillowpersonpp ❤❤

harryfan2 i can say i was here since she flirted with harry on stage

↳ damianodvd same

↳ harryfan3 HEEEELP HI DAMIANO

harrystyles So proud of you, bandmate x

harryfan4 she's going to win a grammy mark my words

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry

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aerkame · 1 year

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Just a silly thought...and more

Just a silly little thought I had on Wally headcanons while I was trying to take a nap. EDIT: This turned into a short fanfiction, I will now have to make this a full one, there's too much potential.

So like Wally comes off as super out of it when it comes to our world almost. Like he's never been outside of the show, he's so used to being in Welcome Home with all his friends. Wally also seems like he's the only one truly sentient of himself within the show and the outside world.

He also seems pretty smug, or some other version of him does, No doubt Wally's ego has to be through the roof with being the center of attention all the time. Not only that, but he gets to spend all day with each and every one of his friends!

I'd imagine that if one day some poor unfortunate reader just accidentally brings home all of the puppets thinking they're ordinary puppets and wakes up early in the morning to these very odd and colorful strangers in their house. Like the puppets just came to life looking like their cartoon versions of themselves and also became life-sized, even some of the shorter characters just tower over you easily, and Barnaby can hardly fit through any of the doors!

Wally is sitting at the edge of your bed staring at you with Barnaby sleeping against his legs, Frank is looking at your shelves reading through books, sketchbooks, etc, Sally being more interested in the sketchbooks, Julie found some workout equipment and is playing with a jump rope, both Poppy and Howdy are rummaging through the kitchen, already antsy about needing to make stuff, Eddie is pretty interested in your printer, and you're sitting up in bed getting ready to scream bloody murder.

You don't scream though, but you're ready to. You can't tell if you're dreaming or not. Dreams are usually a pretty trippy falling feeling right? This feels real though. Where's that weird falling feeling you get when dreaming? Why are you able to think so clearly? Your brows furrow in deep thought.

Wally just sits there smugly smiling at you, leaning forward to give you a hello, he's so tall you feel like a small child compared to him. "Hello, I'm sorry that we had to meet like this, I hope you don't mind." His voice sounds soothing, monotone, and deep, and he isn't blinking. Instinctively, you slap your hand on his face and keep it there, feeling his expression scrunch up in confusion.

Nope, not a dream.

He gently takes your hand in his and removes you from his face, a small red area showing up where you slapped him.

It took about an hour of talking you down from being freaked out for Wally and the others to introduce themselves. They had sooo many questions of course. Like "What is this thing that makes colored paper come out?", "Why do you have these heavy thingies?" Sally holds up a 50lbs dumbbell with one hand like it's nothing, or "Why aren't you more colorful like us? Ooo can we cover you in paint?"

Needless to say you also had a lot of questions too, none of them were really answered though as all of the colorful characters were busy inspecting your house or were preoccupied with asking you about all sorts of items, they were like little kids. Wally was the only one that seemed to be the more mature one here though, it felt off, like he already knew you or like he was used to this.

At dinner, you went ahead and made food for everyone while also showing Poppy how you cook in this world. You noticed Wally didn't touch anything but the food simply disappeared right before your eyes, leaving you slack-jawed and speechless. "Oh don't worry, that's just how he eats!" Sally waved off your concern. This was starting to freak you out a bit.

After dinner you did your best to find places in the house for everyone to sleep until Wally suggested they all just sleep in your room like one big sleepover...something told you that he just wanted an excuse to be closer to you or to be able to keep a close watch though. Que you being squished in between these giant softies like a kid hiding in a giant pillow fort. Barnaby did make for a comfortable pillow though, and Poppy's feathers were so soft...and..and..you dozed off, not taking notice of Wally's staring eyes.

Sure, Wally has his friends to keep him company, and Welcome Home is such a cheery and colorful world! But it's missing just one thing. You.

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 1 year

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Last Night In The Neighborhood☆

《You're my world, you are my night and day. You're my world, you're every prayer I pray..》

《Warnings: the subject matter this ARG has are potentially disturbing. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Welcome Home was created by Clown @/partycoffin 》

Moving from your old home is a scary thing, whether you don't care for the danger ahead. Change is different, it's an oddity.

So when you find an old soundtrack album of a kids show from the 70s when you were unpacking. You grow curious.

Noticing a dusty old record player in the farther corner, you try to recall how to even use one. Begrudgingly searching up how to work the machine on your phone. You smile in pride as the vinyl disc starts to swirl about.

Picking up the album cover, you look over the design.

A cast of colorful characters smiles on the cover. Their expressions are forever saved in place, at least eight puppet-looking creatures waved or paid attention to the viewer. Even a little odd house with windows for eyes.

As if they stared right back at you.

Ignoring your uneasiness, you place the item down near the record-player and continued unpacking the little items you brought. That moving truck better be here by tomorrow..

Your feet tap to a few songs, occasionally singing or humming along clumsily with your own made-up lyrics.

When it became nighttime, you were uneasy, the loud noises from outside, and your paranoid self couldn't handle the stress. Grabbing a random record, you place the needle on the disc and throw the covers over yourself. Trying to drown out the world for at least a little peace.

Waking up to bright lights and rainbow color schemes surprised you. Your legs moved on their own as they take in the sights and sounds of this weird dream.

Houses and streets greet you, along with music that you swore was playing before you fell asleep.

Coming closer to the source of the music, you were shocked by the characters on the album singing and dancing to the rhythm.

One of them notices you and waves you over to join them.

You smile, this was a dream you could get used too.

Joining in with your messy lyrics and footwork. The puppets greet you with open arms and cheers.

When the song finishes, one of them comes up to you. They smile gently, holding out their hand for a handshake, asking for your name.

You tell them, ask for their own.

Before they could say it, they were interrupted by a pink monster girl.

"My name is Julie! That frowny face over there is my best buddy! Frank Frankly! Oh! And over here is..." She continued as she finally finishes with the blue-haired puppet who was shaking your hand.

Not once letting his eyesight stray away from you. "He's Wally! Wally Darling!" Julie said.

She then whispers into your ear loudly. "He's a painter! He likes to paint pretty things.."

The rainbow monster giggles, nudging you coyly and side-eyeing the other puppet.

He appeared uncaring of his friends' teasing, he only smiles. His attention was solely on you, it made you feel... Special.

He made you feel special.

In the following days, you felt yourself changing, you were happier. Content with your daytime life and nighttime shenanigans with Wally and the rest of the puppets.

Hell, even your clothes were starting to change into a whole new style. The colors and lengths become more in tune with the type of clothes your friends wore in your dreams.

Yes. They were your friends, especially Wally, he had become your closest friend in your polychromatic fantasy.

And you couldn't be more thankful. At least, in the beginning...

The more you slept, the longer you stayed, it felt as if the world where Wally resided wouldn't let you leave. As if it was crying out for you to come back whenever you woke up.

You couldn't handle the newfound drowsiness you found yourself in day in and day out. It started to take a toll on you, to the point where you feared to sleep. Afraid that if you fell back into the fantasy, you may never leave.

《If our love ceases to be. Then it's the end of my world for me..!》

[For context! This was based off Last Night In Soho, were a girl dreams about a mysterious girl in the late 60s. I was inspired to write my version of it it with a mix of welcome home! Thank you for reading! Fan art and reblogs are appreciated! Helps with creativeness, also, to my [WElcome To Your New HomE] fans, sorry for not a new update!]

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kyoukamybeloved · 7 months

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"If i say something touching now, maybe a miracle will happen and Chuuya will go back to normal?"

"Come back to me, Chuuya."

more skk web weaves: 1, 2, 3, 4

In A Dream You Saw A Way To Survive; “I swear, next time I’ll see you I’ll be funny” - Clementine Von Radics// art by @/xymeiyouqian on twitter// Anecdote of the Pig - Tory Adkisson//art by @damianito// bluets - Maggie Nelson// Fourth of July - Sujfan Stevens// left alone - Fiona Apple// a self-portrait in letters - Anne Sexton// art by @/1110yu_ku_si on twitter// Cape Verdean blues - Shauna Barbosa// art by @zaerxa// deathless - Catherynne M. Valente// ivy - Taylor Swift// true blue - boygenius// never let me go - Florence+the machine// the Great War - Taylor Swift// art by @liyv// The Erl-King - Angela Carter// fingertips - Fortesa Latifi// you had me at hello - Mhairi McFarlane// art by @damianito// Trista Mateer// a burning hill - Mitski// new year's day - Taylor Swift// art by @pleucas// a barbie dream house but all the dolls are kitchen knives - Cassandra de Alba// my tears ricochet - Taylor Swift// the perfect pair - beabadoobee// art by @ezariumi// the accident has occurred - Margaret Atwood// the archer - Taylor Swift// little weirds - Jenny Slate// art by @pleucas// Sue Zhao// art by @seukorei// what I could never confess without some bravado - Emily Palermo// everybody does - Julien Baker// work song - Hozier//

tagging moots and others users who liked my other web weaves :)

@philzokman @amagami-hime @vivid-vices @miltseyx @nnavia @dinosaur-mayonnaise @zamxii @vinylbiohazard @bunglegaydogs @pendragonstar @lotus-reblogs @ghostsinacoat @ricelover888 @thou-shalt-cha-cha-real-smooth @slug-behaviour @oatmilkbasic @atsuwushi @dahliagrave

@whiteapplesandblackblood

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 16 days

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So American

masterlist

note: if i ever stop writing nonsense outros... check up on me

warnings: suggestive (sex jokes)

word count: 1.5 k

♡ summary: Y/n invites her brothers and her boyfriend to one of her concerts

♡ Nico Hischier x Hughes!singer!reader

request ✗

It was night one in Michigan, which meant the whole family was here, for the first time. Of course they’ve all seen her perform before but never together, Ellen was the most outspoken about her excitement in seeing her baby girl with the family, but she knew everyone else was just as excited too.

But as the opening piano played, the soft melody as the woman of the hour stepped out, singing the first verse before the lights begin flashing purple and red when the beat drops.

“Forgive and I forget!!

I know my age and I act like it!

Got what you can’t resist,

I’m a perfect all-American-”

She continued the song jumping and thrashing around the stage, getting close to fans and singing the lyrics to them while they screamed them back. And when she famously changes the lyric to “perfect all-American tits!” She made sure to face away from where she knew her family and friends were sitting, though they could still see on the big screen it didn’t matter. She just didn’t want to see her brothers and parents standing next to her boyfriend while she lifted up her shirt to an area full of people.

The song faded to the next and when she finished that song, out of breath, the girl starts dragging the microphone stand to the center of the stage, “So um- my families here tonight-” The girl was cut off by the crowd cheering loudly, “-yeah, so you guys are sooo lucky to have still gotten that lyric change.” She said, chuckling, though it wasn’t a joke.

The night continued on, Y/n played songs from her album and some from her first EP, Trevor and Cole were really having the time of their life, being twins with Jack basically meant that all their friends were each other’s friends, that very thing was the cause of the relationship Jack hated most, Nico and his sister.

He loved his sister, and he knew Nico was a good guy, but something about the fact that his captain was sleeping with his sister weirded him out. He hated even more that Nico would take Y/n’s side all the time, something the girl took advantage of, she also loved to tease Jack by saying she could make him do extra laps if he pissed her off. She had Nico wrapped around her finger. Y/n had just finished singing teenage dream, a slower song that she performed sitting down on a large crescent moon, leading herself into another slow song directly after.

“I spy with my little tired eye”

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?”

Y/n had written this song during her and NIco’s first summer together, when they went to Europe, they went to stay with his family before heading on a trip around Europe, just the two of them.

Hand in hand, the couple walked along the water in Wicklow, they had just come from dinner and were walking back to where they were staying. Taking their time, they looked at the mountains and hilly landscape.

Y/n rested her head on Nico’s biceps that was hidden under his jacket, her hands encompassed his own, his other hand was holding their leftovers in a to-go bag.

Something colourful caught the younger girl’s eye as they walked, it was an earthy orange in a sea of grey. Y/n stopped abruptly, something she did a lot when they walked together. The man has started to get used to her short and easily distracted attention span.

“Look at this rock, Neeks.” He nodded, a loving smile on his face. Nico was a man of few words, it used to be something that annoyed Y/n, she thought he just plain out didn’t like her and that was why he didn’t talk much. But she’s since learned that some people just didn’t have to be talking non-stop, could never be her, but she’s grown to love that about him. And he about her non-stop chatter.

“I like it, I’m gonna keep it.” She went to put the small pebble in her pocket when she realised her jacket had no pocket. Looking towards Nico, he already had his hand out for the rock to hold onto, she placed it in his hand that was holding the leftovers and he placed the pebble safely in his jacket pocket.

“On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, ‘what a mind’

This happens all the time”

Nico and Y/n were driving back to their hotel in London after a date, Nico’s left hand was resting on Y/n’s thigh. Her hands were holding her phone that was open to her notes app, while she read off a poem she had just written, “-like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time, watching hidden in plain sight. What d’ya think?”

Nico was speechless, how could someone just come up with something like that? So beautifully written, it had just come to her mind and she could perfectly write out the thought immediately? And it be that beautiful? What a mind.

“What a mind you have.” His words had made her huff out a small, “Stop it.” “No really, schatzi, it’s amazing. You always impress me with what your brain can come up with.”

What she didn’t tell him was her brain had come up with so much material from just his couple kind words.

When the song came to a close and Y/n stepped back onto the main stage, Jack decided to shove his captain a little to gain his attention, “Yes?” Nico said, glazing at Jack before bringing his eyes back to his girl.

“I know I act like I hate you and my sister.. But I’m really happy that you make her happy and feel safe.” Nico brought all his attention to the boy now as Y/n began ‘Talk too much’ “Thank you, Jack, it means a lot. She cares about your opinion more than she likes to admit, so that will mean a lot.” “‘Course.”

The boys were cut off by Y/n singing the chorus, “Ooh, I think I talk too much”

“At least she knows it.” Jack joked, and even though Nico loved hearing the girl talk more than anything, he laughed.

The song ended, and this was when Y/n would play a different song every night before the closing song, and most nights she would talk to the crowd and explain a bit or just talk about the song. Yet this night was different as all she said was, “This one is for all my girls who dreamed of having a foreign boyfriend!” And began singing.

“Driving on the right side road

He says I’m pretty wearing’ his clothes

And he’s got hands that make hell seem cold

Feet on the dashboard

He’s like a poem I wish I wrote

I wish I wrote!”

She wrote this one while Nico was in the shower the night he said, “What a mind” in London. Sitting at the small hotel desk, the original draft of the song was written on hotel stationary.

“And he says I’m so American

Oh god I’m gonna marry him

If he keeps this shit up!”

It only hit Nico now, that his girl was singing at the top of her lungs to an area full of people that she was going to marry him. Her family, her brothers, her friends, his family, and the rest of the world knew it. That she was going to marry him.

When the song came to an end, Ellen and Jim left saying they were heading backstage, everyone knew it was really because Jim hates the next song. Not because it was bad or anything, just because it was his little girl.

“Think I only want one number in my phone”

It was hard for Nico to keep a smirk off his face, especially when Trevor and Cole made such a big deal at any line, they loved teasing their best friend and her boyfriend and it was even better when she wasn’t there to get mad at them. But when it got to the point where the girl sang her unique to ever show outros, the two shut up.

“How quickly can you take your clothes off?” “POP QUIZ!!!”

“He’s so cute he calls me schatzi, even better ‘cause he understands me. My brothers may not like it but I am carefree.”

That night proved she was carefree, when she and Nico spent their night in her room of the lake house, in her bed, and on the floor, and in her bathroom, mostly the shower. Luke, who shares a wall with the couple, ended up sleeping in Quinn’s room with him that night.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x famous!reader #nico hischier x fem!reader #nico hischier x fem reader #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier x hughes!sister #nico hischier x hughes!reader

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ltbarnes · 4 months

Text

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

#stark u #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes angst #sam wilson x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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raredrop · 4 months

Text

oc: gives me their name and pronouns in my dream

me: U GOT IT 🫡

#julie has weird dreams

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

Note

May I please have a Wally with a reader that is somehow sentient and aware with knowing they've somehow got stuck in this tv show and are heavely aware Wally has something to do with it?

So they're extra closed up about themselves, stay home a lot to avoid the puppets in overly social gathering (like they can handle two or three of them but not all at once as it's too overwhelming with happy shizzles and stuff), yet that doesn't mean they don't talk at all to them. They don't keep their mouth shut either when something's bothering them, like when they get annoyed when Wally stares too long at them and makes a comment about it or genuinely admit they dislike Home with how disturbing it seems to them.

Wally somehow doesn't mind as he's genuinely interested in them and wants to become their friend as best as possible, not for any reason with manipulation, just pure friendly business. But as the reader knows he's the main star of the show they're forced to play in, they know the camera follows him almost always, thus they avoid him like the plague which causes a cat and mouse play between you two. Wally trying to get closer to you with perhaps making paintings and gifts for you while you just casually dip out of there while somehow looking like you don't hate him.

(It would be even funnier if you somehow became the second favorite character of the show as you stand out a lot with your attitude and being the only human being there, perhaps even attracting teens to watch the show with your remarks at the puppets for a certain someone not even having a nose or eyebrows and your monotone voice singing and having no energy with dancing once you somehow get stuck in a song sequence with the others (kind of like red guy from dhmis)

Funny thing is, sadly for Wally, is that you get along well with Frank and Eddie as they're the more calm ones, Eddie still joyfull a lot, but more calmer than Julie and Howdy perhaps are.

So there's Wally, staring with the most confused and slight jealous eyes as he watches you joke around and actually smile with the duo/couple(?) while you always give him a frown that's somehow even deeper than Franks.

Sorry for the slight ramble and long explanation (I'm a fanfic writer myself), just wanted to give a summary of how I see it and wondering how you'd think this would work out.

Btw, reader doesn't hate Wally, they're just warry and uncomfortable with his stares and Home in general, and with the knowledge that's he's one of the reasons they're stuck here. They soften up to him a little eventually, like letting him hug them shortly or talking more casual with him, but no way he ever sees them entering his house.

This was so long I'm so sorry.

Anyway, have a great day/night!

Oh don't worry I think this is a great idea! I like how fleshed-out it is!

...........

You have only spent a week in the neighborhood...before realizing something was terribly, terribly wrong with the world surrounding you.

At first, this place seemed like nothing but sunshine and rainbows--full of fun, joy, color, and friendship. A place that one could only dream of living in all their life, free of worry or strife.

It felt comforting and safe, so when you started having these weird feelings that not everything was as it seemed..you figured you were just nervous about settling into a new place.

But when the folks here asked where you were from, you'd end up drawing a blank...starting to question where you really did come from. So you'd simply tell them you're just "out of town" and leave it at that, although you always sounded uncertain about it.

And there's something else that was especially peculiar: every activity the neighbors did almost always stopped at the end of the day. It seemed strange to you since there's plenty of things you could do. Like campfires or stargazing!

So one evening, you asked all of your neighbors why they rarely hung out during the night, and they had relatively normal responses: Eddie says it's tricky to deliver mail at nighttime; Howdy was too tired from working at the bugdega all day; Barnaby and Sally had to plan their next stunts, tricks, and plays; Julie and Frank wanted to get their "beauty sleep"; and Poppy needed to take care of things back at the barn.

All seemed to be perfectly reasonable answers...

Until you got to Wally.

He looked as though he was ready to respond...only to fall quiet and stare off into space, as though he was in another world. But the fact that his pupils seemed to dilate gave you the chills for some reason, and you calmly tried snapping him out of his trance.

Then he did, and quietly said something about Home "disliking" it whenever he stays out too late. And he bid you goodnight before leaving.

That exchange was the moment you realized something was very off about him beyond his staring habits. It's like he didn't know exactly what to say.

As if...it's such an unusual question for him, but normal to you.

And out of nowhere, the truth hit you like a truck:

This whole place was just one big TV show, with all of you trapped inside as the unwitting stars who were meant to follow certain "scripts" during your daily interactions.

You don't know how or why you knew that, but it became clearer when you constantly got the feeling that your movements were being watched.

You could sense eyes on you even when you were alone.

And sometimes you'd hear indistinguishable voices of adults and children alike while you slept, unable to discern whether they were merely in your dream or existed in reality. It must have been the former, considering none of the other neighbors said they heard anything.

To you, these people...these "viewers", sounded like they were in a faraway land--an unreachable place where you couldn't call out to them for answers no matter how hard you tried.

You knew nothing about them, but they knew everything about you.

Your character had become so fascinating to them from the moment you arrived in the humble neighborhood. You've actually become the second favorite almost instantly, given the uniqueness you've brought to the colorful cast as a human merely wearing an average-sized costume.

They've observed that your personality makes you relatable to young teens, attracting them to the show. Many of them got some chuckles out of your dry and semi-self aware humor (in that you'd joke about how Wally's missing his eyebrows and nose when everybody else has them). It was an immediate hit.

Even when you got pulled into some silly musical number with the rest of the gang, you just spoke in monotone and put lackluster energy into dancing when the camera panned over to you--much to the dismay of your "neighbors".

The viewers just couldn't get enough of you. They adored you.

And they can't stop watching.

You, on the other hand, weren't aware that you were so popular...and quite frankly, you didn't want to be. It terrified you.

So for a while, to protect your own sanity, you began attending less and less social events, not wanting to overwhelm yourself. You've declined invitations to Sally's and Barnaby's shows, which made you feel kinda bad..but you were just so fearful of everything at the time.

Were any of them aware of their circumstances, too?

You had no idea, and it would probably make you sound like a crazy person if you told them how you really felt.

The only other person to show any sort of "deviance" was...Wally himself.

You didn't know why, but you felt like he had something to do with the situation you're in. Especially given his odd response to you that evening and the fact that...he just apparently loved to stare so much, watching you just like the audience did.

It didn't help that whenever you talked to him or he tried approaching you, you got the chilling feeling that you were being perceived by the audience--as if somebody was holding a camera over your shoulder, wanting to capture every moment the "main character" spent with you.

You'd prefer to spend as little time in the spotlight as possible.

However, being anxious about this world didn't mean you weren't a bit mouthy towards other things you disliked. You were known for being blunt and sometimes a "realist", shrugging of whatever crocodile tears the others may give you just for the crime of being honest and true to yourself.

So yes...you'd always call out Wally if he was staring at you for a prolonged period of time, or if he tried persuading you to say hello to Home if you happened to pass by the sentient house.

Your response? Straight up "no thank you, it creeps me out and I don't like how its window-eye things are looking at me."

The audience may laugh, but it's the truth.

That building scares you.

Despite all of this, though...Wally didn't seem to bothered by it. He likened your sarcastic quips to Frank's, so that was never an issue with him. If anything, he was genuinely trying to help you feel right at home in the neighborhood, hoping to become a friend you could trust and rely on if you needed anything.

It'll just take you a bit more time to adjust, and that's alright!

Sure, maybe his stares were strange to you and Home was well...Home. He understood why those things might seem scary to a new neighbor.

But then again, that's how everybody else acted when he first met them, and now they were all good friends!

He's sure you'll fit right in and find true happiness here. So he made it his mission to befriend you without coming on too strongly, inviting you to quiet picnics and painting lessons, calling you on the phone, and even showing up at your doorstep with gifts.

He even made sure to tell his neighbors to give you space, though he was really hoping you'd stop being afraid of him the longer you spent around him alone.

But while you accepted his presents and showed up to his invites...you just couldn't let your guard down around him. You never looked happy or relaxed, and didn't stay long, usually cutting your time together short under the guise that you forgot to do something important and had to leave now.

Your latest excuse was that you forgot to "walk your fish" even though you owned no such pet. You were a terrible liar, but Wally believed you anyways.

He was a patient man, so he'll wait how ever long it took to befriend you.

...........

"Alright, Home..today I'm gonna gift [y/n] my finest work thus far! Do you think they'll like it?"

Pausing, Wally listened for the creaks of approval and squeaks of reassurances, smiling when he heard them, although Home noted something else.

"Haha..you're right. Silly me. It needs more time to dry..or else the paint will just smudge and make it a not-so-nice gift. Sorry, I'm just excited, is all.." He chuckled awkwardly.

After setting the canvas back on the easel, he wandered over to the window and peered outside, humming a small tune to himself as he rested his arms on the sill.

It took him all day and all night to paint the perfect picture of your favorite animal---which he learned about from an off-handed comment you made a few days ago. His memory was sharp, remembering all the details about the creature, and he believed you'll love what he created as a result!

Surely now you'll see that he's not all that bad. Otherwise he'd be lost on how to convince you.

However, he noticed a rather...surprising sight from across the street, one that even Home had to confirm was happening so he didn't think he was going crazy.

You were actually out and about, having a casual chat with Frank, asking how he got together with Eddie before bumping into said mailman on the sidewalk.

Wally couldn't make out what any of you three were discussing, but Eddie must have said something humorous, as it made Frank groan and hide his blushing face. And you just chuckled and shook your head, patting the latter's back sympathetically.

He felt his heart sink.

You were talking to the couple--joking around, smiling, and genuinely enjoying their company. As if you've known them all your life.

Yet anytime he's even near you in any capacity, he's met with frowns deeper than Frank's and constant excuses to get away from him. Like he was some kind of pest or scary monster.

He didn't understand what he was doing wrong.

Of course, he's happy you're getting along with some of the neighbors, no longer being so shut-in...but it hurt to know he's still stuck struggling, literally begging you to be his friend.

*creaaaak?*

"..no, Home. I'm not jealous. What gives you that idea?"

*...creeak.."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Wally looked back at the easel, sighing. Part of him wanted to just throw the whole canvas out the window, but....he shook off the feeling, forcing a smile.

He wanted you to have it, even if you didn't like him that much.

So when he saw you finally parting ways with Eddie and Frank, he decided to head over to your house about an hour later, assuming you were gonna be there and needed to recharge from socializing.

He put on his best cardigan and made sure his hair was neat before heading out the door with the small canvas tucked under his arm, covered by a protective sheet. He wouldn't wanna spoil the surprise for you, after all..even if you anticipated it being yet another painting.

For some reason, the sky was grayer than usual today..meaning it's probably gonna rain on his parade.

But he didn't let that deter him.

After arriving to your house, he knocked three times, in a certain rhythm that you've distinctively recognized as him being at the door.

But he was surprised when you opened it right away. "Oh heya, Wally. What's up?"

"Ohh nothing much, neighbor." He chuckled. "May I..come in? I promise I won't stay long-"

"It's cool. It looks like it's gonna rain anyways. Wouldn't wanna ruin your "beautiful" hair now, huh?" With a coy smirk, you let him come inside the house, shutting the door behind you as you turned around to see what be brought you this time.

He looked shocked, almost, standing there like a fish out of water. You invited him in without hesitation...though he tried not getting his hopes up too high.

You're just trying to be polite. In a few minutes you're gonna kick him out for some silly reason.

Shifting your gaze away from his uncomfortable stare, you looked at the painting in his hands, tilting your head. "I guess that's for me.."

Nodding, Wally handed you the canvas, watching you remove the small sheet to see it was a painting of your favorite animal. Your eyes lit up, impressed by the amount of details that went into this one, before looking back up at him. "Wow, man..this is....awesome. How long did it take you?"

"Not very long!" He suddenly chirped, hands clasped together with excitement. "I just hope it fits nicely in your collection! A-Assuming....you...have one...that is..."

Bit by bit, his words began to fall flat with uncertainty, before he completely dropped the act, shoulders slumped.

Why did he bother trying anymore? What was the point?

You noticed his odd mood shift. "Wally? What's wrong?"

"..nothing, neighbor.." Sighing, he hung his head low, a cloud of doom and gloom manifesting over him as he shuffled towards the door. He felt like going back to Home and curling up in a corner somewhere. "I'll...see you later-"

"Wait."

"...hm?"

He stopped and looked over his shoulder, still feeling quite depressed but willing to listen to whatever you wanted to say.

You set the painting on a nearby table, approaching him with your heart constrained with guilt. "Look, Wally..I know you think I hate you or something, but...that's not true."

"It...isn't?" He blinked.

"I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. There's just been...a lot of my mind lately. Things I can't really talk about just yet..I-I don't know. It's hard to explain. But the point is...I really do wanna be your friend. I guess I'm just...a very "guarded" person if that makes sense."

Although Wally was staring at you yet again, you didn't break eye contact, wanting him to know you're being genuine here. "I don't open up easy, but I know you've...helped me a lot, and I appreciate that. I do keep your paintings and I do feel bad for being a jerk to you sometimes. So...think you can forgive me? I'll even allow this if you want."

When he saw you open your arms up to him, he was frozen for a few long moments, astonishment written all over his face.

He just...didn't know what to say. Not only did you actually like his company, but....

He was allowed to hug you??

"..c'mon, pal. My arms are kinda getting tired." You awkwardly smiled, although you blinked as he suddenly latched onto you, letting out a few sniffles.

He wanted to sob so badly, but knew that wouldn't be very "neighborly" of him.

Yet you heard how he sounded, and felt guilty for treating him as some bad guy...when really he didn't seem malicious at all. You wanted to believe he had good intentions.

Whether or not he also knew the truth behind this place...that didn't matter right now.

He just wanted to be your friend.

You'll never be happy if you kept being so afraid of him all the time. That wasn't any life to live, even if you're unsure of whether this was your only life or not.

But you let him hug you anyways, patting his back.

"Th-This is very nice of you, neighbor. I forgive you." He mumbled, cheek squished against your shoulder as he clung to you tightly, never wanting to let go-

"Thanks......okay, you can let go now."

"..o-oh! Right, sorry." Reluctantly, Wally let you go, rubbing his eyes before dusting off his cardigan, breathing a sigh of relief. "Whew! I'm glad we're on better terms now. But...if I may ask..what changed?"

"Ah, well..I was talking with Frank and Eddie earlier..and I asked them about you."

"Huh....?" He pointed to himself, raising an invisible eyebrow. "Me..?"

"Yeah. Since they're more chill than most of the people here, I feel like I can be myself around them." You explained. "Howdy and Julie are kinda too loud for me, so...yeah. Those guys pushed me to reach out to you and try to make this friendship work...instead of the other way around."

'So...that's what they were talking about..' He realized, though he beamed anyways, happy you took their advice.

"Well that's great! I think we'll become great friends, [y/n]!" Smiling, he offered his hand to you, and you shook it as a way of saying you're both willing to start over.

"I..think so, too, Wally." You smiled back, feeling this huge weight being lifted off your shoulders.

"So...do you wanna come visit Home when the weather clears?"

"...I'll pass. But I'll wave to 'em from afar if that's okay."

"It's fine by me, neighbor."

#clanask #welcome home x reader #wally darling #wally darling x reader #platonic

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redwolfxx · 2 months

Text

get him back!

jonggun x reader

inspired by "get him back!" - Olivia Rodrigo

tw: none

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring"

----

I guess I never really did know him. Sure, we dated for a little over three years, but it wasn't like we were going to stay together in the long run.

Sure, I loved him, but it was just a fling.

It wasn't anything serious.

---- "He argued with me about everything He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye"

----

Shit, I mean it was an open relationship.

He could date whoever he wanted, fuck whoever he wanted, you know, free souls.

Sure, I wasn't allowed to even be in the same room as another guy, but that's just how it is. It was a healthy relationship.

I mean yes, we did fight often but doesn't everyone?

'how often did often mean?'

it was just small things.

'and what's this call on...on july 17th, the transcript says an individual, you, called crying, scared?

a vase was accidentally knocked over.

'sure...and the hole in the wall?'

what are you getting at?

'did he ever hurt you?'

can we move on?

---- "But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end Another song, another club, another bar, another dance"

----

But we had fun.

We partied all night long. Sure, I had school the next day, but it was fun.

'did he go to the same school?'

i think he dropped out. like i said, we barely knew each other.

'you dated for over three years.'

We were young.

Back when we could drink all night and still function the next day. He had interesting friends sure.

I remember one guy, he was a blonde. He always had this smile on his face, he was always looking for the next high. He was a good friend.

He would always argue with my boyfriend on occasion. But it was always good fun.

'it says here that they were often seen physically fighting.'

they were teenage boys. of course, they'd fight.

I wonder what happened to him. It's been years.

'prison.'

what for?

'i'm not at liberty to disclose.'

hm.

---- "And when he said something wrong, he'd just fly me to France"

----

He was definitely rich.

'was it his money that-'

no. i loved him.

He wore brands that I would never dream of owning.

'but you eventually would.'

sure.

He bought me gifts ever y now and then. But, I wasn't with him for the money.

I did truly love him.

'it says here you missed school for a week, due to...mono...?'

'was it really mono?'

nah, we just needed a reason to fly to paris fashion week.

'he paid?

yeah. i told him i couldn't afford it, but he said not to worry about anything. so i didn't ask. and like that, we were in paris.

I think we were good together.

---- "So I miss him some nights when I'm feeling depressed"

----

We lasted a while. But, life goes on you know?

We had a good run.

'do you still talk?'

ha.

'so no? if you did love him as much as you say, why'd you end things?'

---- "Til I remember every time he made a pass on my friend Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it's up and down"

----

I loved him more than words could express.

But I guess he just didn't feel the same way.

He was always watching my friends.

I actually don't know if I have any memories of him looking only at me when we went out to party.

'so he cheated?'

did i say that?

'it sure sounds like-'

assumptions kill.

---- "I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends Because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do"

----

We were on and off.

Sure, he forgot anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, important events, graduation, etc.

But at the end of the day it didn't matter. It was me who he came back to.

'it says here you filed a missing persons report.'

yeah, i guess.

'it says he was gone for a few weeks.'

he forgot to tell me about his work trip overseas.

'he had a job that sent him overseas at the age of eighteen?'

he had to pay the bills somehow.

----

"I wanna get him back I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

I wanna break his heart Then be the one to stitch it up"

----

But sometimes, sometimes? I hated him.

God I just wanted to make him feel like I did.

How could he think it was okay to dance with those girls wearing almost nothing. I mean it's crazy right?

It hurt.

I cried, and I cried, I got angry, and we fought.

But him?

He was always sooo calm. He never thought he did anything wrong. He was trash.

I kept breaking up with him, telling him I was done with him. Done with his games. Done with the pain.

'but you got back together?'

yeah.

'why?'

I wanted him to come crawling back to me. Begging me to be his one and only. I wanted him to feel what I felt when I saw him with other girls.

So I partied at places I knew he would be. I would wear the most revealing outfits I could.

I felt so powerful.

I would attend school, get straight A's. I was an academic star.

'why did you get back together then?'

He always showed up at my door a week or so later. He looked paler than usual. He would come disheveled, smelling like alcohol. He looked tired.

He would ask to talk, and we would.

The next day we would be back together like nothing ever happened.

'how many times did you go through this cycle?'

only a few times.

'how many?'

does it really matter?

---- "Wanna kiss his face With an uppercut"

----

I used to be a world-class fighter too.

He always did have this attraction to fighters.

I used to be a part of the underground fighting ring. I was probably one of the best, if not the best fighter there.

He wasn't too bad himself.

So every now and then we would spar, we would get each other good.

But at the end of the day, we would help each other. Stitch each other back up, clean the cuts, and wipe the blood. Kiss it better.

Sure, we had our lows, but we also had our highs. And our highs used to be pretty damn good.

But we were teenagers then. And we broke up not long after I left for college.

'and you haven't seen or talked to him since?'

no. it's been ten years. he was an ex. sure, i miss him every now and then. but that's probably the nostalgia talking. who doesn't miss their youth every now and then

'and you don't know where he is either?'

like i said. it was like ten years ago. he was an ex boyfriend. i moved on and he probably did too. now, can i go? my ass is starting to hurt and this cold ass interrogation room isn't doing my skin any favors.

'this investigation isn't over.'

sure sure, you know where to find me. if you miss me that much, just call next time. the whole military wasn't necessary.

'fine. but you can't leave this country, and -'

yeah, i get it. i'm leaving now.

'before you go, can i ask one last thing.'

quickly.

'why did you change your name when you were yonger?'

i was young. my car's outside, can i go now?

'alright, ms. park, you can go, thanks for your time. and if you do see him, or hear from him at all-'

i'll be sure to call.

---------------------------------------------

unknown number: out front.

me: be there in a sec ♡

unknown number: did they buy the story?

me: do you doubt my acting skills? how dare you even doubt me.

unknown number: sorry mrs. park i didn't mean to offend you. now come out to the car, we have a plane to catch.

me: thanks mr. darcy ♡

#lookism x reader #lookism gun x reader #x reader #lookism #gun x reader #park jonggun #jonggun x reader

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kiwiana-writes · 4 months

Text

2023 Writing Round Up

Thanks @welcometololaland and @rmd-writes for the tags! It’s been a weird year; there was definitely a point at which I thought I was done with sharing my writing publicly, but here we are 😂

JANUARY

Brain break 😁

FEBRUARY

We knew we were the fortunate ones [The Last of Us; Bill/Frank; rated E; 2,294 words]

First times are both awkward and exciting, apocalypse or no apocalypse.

MARCH

My mind has been expanded [Schitt’s Creek; David/Patrick; rated T; 422 words]

In which the author David finds out their his spouse has never seen Rocky Horror

Got me an appetite, now I can taste it [Schitt’s Creek; David/Patrick; rated E; 3,002 words]

Kink!verse s05e12: chastity cage for @minerforaheartofgold

APRIL-JUNE

Brain break 😁

JULY

We were supposed to find this [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated M; 3,384 words]

The canon-adjacent soulmarks fic

Honey lips and words so true [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,580 words]

A smutty little prompt fill for @rmd-writes

All the city lights on the water [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 500 words]

A series of NYE drabbles as a prompt fill for @hullomoon

Before this all goes grey [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 455 words]

A painfully soft Paris morning prompt fill for @stereopticons

Looking like our bodies might fuse [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 637 words]

Post-canon paparazzi feelings prompt fill for @hullomoon

Just come along, baby, take my hand [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,335 words]

The ‘Alex and Henry watch Netflix’s How to Build a Sex Room’ fic @celeritas2997 made me write

Feel your hands in my hair and you whisper my name [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2,508 words]

The barbershop meet-horny for @celeritas2997

AUGUST

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 65,586 words]

Actor AU, Alex and Henry performing in a queer reimagining of Much Ado About Nothing

SEPTEMBER

Bukkake Breaky Heart [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2,532 words]

Alex has a fantasy. Henry makes it happen.

Empty your heart of its mortal dream [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated G; 3,641 words]

Alex steps inside a fairy circle and Fey Prince Henry appears

The star to every wandering bark [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 3,895 words]

A 5+1 coda set during the epilogue of With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest)

I don’t know if I should go with XX Pro or Valencia [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 2,854 words]

Henry sends a thirst trap to his ex… or does he?

OCTOBER

Kinktober 2023 [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 6,200 words]

31 days, 31 kinky double drabbles

I’ve carried this song in my mind [RWRB; Arthur&Henry, Alex/Henry; rated T; 2,529 words]

Five times Arthur tries to get Alex and Henry together from beyond the grave, and one time two times his intervention isn’t needed.

Handprints in wet cement [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2,421 words]

Five things Henry learned during his Oxford Slut Phase that he shared with Alex, and one thing they learned together.

NOVEMBER

Puck It [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 9,739 words]

College AU, Alex as a NCAA division I, NHL-drafted hockey player

Kinda think that I might be his type [RWRB; Alex/Henry, Alex&Bea; rated E; 12,864 words]

Alex agrees to be his friend's fake boyfriend for a weekend. He is not prepared for his friend's brother.

A Practical Arrangement [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; WIP 1/3 chapters, 6,136 words published, to be finished before the end of the year]

An anachronism stew, royalty-arranged-marriage AU

DECEMBER

All Those Christmas Clichés [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated M; WIP 16/25 chapters, 4,800 words published]

Daily triple drabbles: snapshots of the lead-up to Christmas 2023.

Puck It Real Good [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,793 words]

A smutty interlude set during Puck It

Tagging @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @myheartalivewrites @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells and, as always, anyone who wants to play!

#2023 writing round up #kiwiana-writes

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cecilebutcher · 7 months

Text

ღLaufey songs I associate with twst boysღ

I’m back on my musical bullshit😎 just so we’re clear, this has zero thoughts, behind it o7 Enjoy!!

!!Don’t like,it does nothing. Reblog instesd!!

Characters: Every nrc student + some oc’s

Riddle Rosehearts: like the movies

“Maybe I'm just old fashioned. Read too many fairytales. It's no wonder I've had no luck, no one's ever good enough. I want a love like I've seen in the movies.That's why I'll never fall in love”

Trey Clover: I wish you love

“And in July a lemonade. To cool you in some leafy glade. I wish you health. And more than wealth. My breaking heart and I agree. That you and I could never be. So with my best, my very best. I set you free”

Cater Diamond: someone new

“I have to get off Instagram. I keep on going back. Looking at our memories. I know that you will soon delete. We turn to strangers in a day. Now you walk away. Every time I catch your eye. When did you become so shy?”

Ace Trappola: Best friend

“I have never tolerated someone for so long. I've never laughed so much. I haven't written a sad song. There's no one else I'd rather fall asleep with. And dream with. You're my best friend in the world”

Deuce Spade: just like Chet

“Why did you put me through. 11 months of "you're so pretty's, " "I miss you's"? It's absurd what even occurred between autumn and spring. If you never loved me. In a perfect world. I wouldn't have met you that night. Would've stayed with my friends. And just danced 'til the morning light”

Leona Kingscholar: Valentine

“I've rejected affection. For years and years. Now I have it, and damn it. It's kind of weird. He tells me I'm pretty. Don't know how to respond. I tell him that he's pretty too. Can I say that? Don't have a clue”

Ruggie Bucchie: Promise

“It hurts to be something. It's worse to be nothing with you. I've done the math. There's no solution. We'll never last. Why can't I let go of this?”

Jack Howl: lucky for me

“When the sun goes away in the autumn. And the leaves trickle down from the trees. The heat of the summer's forgotten. You'll be here, so lucky for me. You don't tell me to shut up. Even when I talk too much you smile at me. Say, "Don't worry"”

Azul Ashengrotto: From the start

“Oh, the burning pain. Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate. "She's so perfect, " blah, blah, blah. Oh, how I wish you'll wake up one day. Run to me, confess your love, at least just let me say”

Jade Leech: above the Chinese restaurant

“Street sounds blistered with neon lights. Heard the neighbors snoring every other night. Eating dumplings from next door. Finish 'em up they'd give us some more. Didn't realize we had it all. Even when the roof came caving in that fall. Oh, I loved you more than you know. Covered in the flakes of crystal white snow”

Floyd Leech: dancing with you tonight

“Silly boy, don't talk to me. I don't have the energy. Please don't ask to dance with me tonight. I do better on my own (on my own). I don't mean to come off cold (come off cold). But my dear, I'm all danced out tonight. Now the gin is hitting me. And it's almost half-past three. Am I crazy or seeing things? I'm sorry if I can't go for another swing”

Kalim Al-Asim: Magnolia

“A word from her lips, her sirens kiss. Will send you straight into abyss. Magnolia, I wish she'd give her secrets away. Enchants everyone and I think it'd be fun. To be like her someday. But I cannot compete with her. Perfection is the only word. I think of when I think of Magnolia. She doesn't know that the world is turning just for her”

Jamil Viper: Street by Street

“Step by step, brick by brick. I'm reclaiming what's mine. This city is way too small. To give away to just one guy. Street by street, breath by breath. From the Back Bay to the sky. I'm taking back my city. I'm Taking back my life. The cafe Where you asked me for my name. The bookstore we spent Five hours hiding from the rain”

Vil Shoenheit: beautiful stranger

“What if I would've stayed on the train? Dared to stand up and ask for his name. Maybe we would have exchanged a few words. A fairytale moment could have occurred. But my beautiful stranger will have to remain. A stranger until I see him again. See him again. Hmm, mmh.”

Rook Hunt: fragile

“The soft candle glow. The music so slow. Your skin on my skin. The room is spinning. Nerve in my bone. I'm shaking oh no. I'm talking though I shouldn't be. I've lost all sensibility. I've never been so fragile”

Epel Felmier: falling behind

“'Cause the sun's engaged to the sky. And my best friend's found a new guy. I'm only getting older. I've never had a shoulder to cry on. Someone to call mine. Everybody's falling in love and I'm falling behind”

Idia Shroud:this is how it feels(ft. D4vd)

“This is how it feels. To fall in love with you. To always think of you. To always dream of you. Yes, it hurts so much. To fall in love with you. So if this is how it feels. Tell me if our love is real. There's some type of strange appeal. To the way it was so effortless, uh. I cannot help it”

Malleus Draconia: Bewitched

“You bewitched me. From the first time that you kissed me. Waited all night. Then we ran down the street in the late London light. The world froze around us, you kissed me good night. You bewitch me. Every damn second you're with me. I try to think straight. But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart. You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart. And bewitched me. Bewitched”

Lilia Vanrouge: night light

“Cardboard boxes covеring the floor. Guess I won't be living in here anymore. Take down the posters of the pop stars on the wall. Empty room, it looks so small. All of the laughter. All the sleepless nights. Waiting for ever after. Snow falling outside, keeping on the night light”

Silver (Vanrouge): let you break my heart again

“One day, I will stop falling in love with you. Some day, someone will like me like I like you. Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend that we are more than friends. Then of course I'll let you break my heart again. Some day, one day. I will stop falling in love with you. Until I do. I'll be thinking of you. Let you break my heart again”

Sebek Zigvolt: dear soulmate

“Dear soulmate. Do you think of me? 'Cause I do. Do you have green eyes or are they brown like mine? Do you have a sister too? Dear soulmate. One day I'll give this song you. We will drive up to the mountains? Camp in a little tent? When the bears come at night. Will you put up a fight? Or will you hide with me in my flashlight?”

Ibhana “Vesper” Baske: questions for the universe

“Falling in love feels more like crashing. Stars spin around my head. So I'm asking. Will my worries ever melt away? Mm. Run out of sentences to say. Wish that I could put this into better words. Will I ever fall in love or will I always search?”

Tao Yúchi: second best

“I'll never forget how stupid in love I felt. I'll always regret how I couldn't ever tell. That you walked a little faster, left me behind. Kissed me with somebody else in mind. I loved you so much. That I settled for less. Oh, you were my everything. I was your second best.”

Igor Kazentoc: serendipity

“I won't pretend I've been anxious. Just like I've always been. This time it's sticking. And time just stops ticking. When I have my arms around you. Four-leaf clovers and lucky dimes. Coincidences and cosmic signs. Have proved that I am quite naive. I'm falling fast, filling gravity. And all that I see is serendipity”

Junto Shuisha: everything I know about love

“I wouldn't mind (ahh). I heard that falling fast is so divine. Are these songs just telling plain old lies? 'Cause that's everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). Everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). I don't know that much at all. I trip, I fall. Every time I try, it's all too much. That's everything I know about love”

Jasper Spade: slow down

“I wish it would slow down. Even for a second. I'm so old now. Left my adolescence. Going out to parties. And getting way too drunk. Think I found somebody. But don't think that it's love. I wish it would slow down. Slow down. Mhm, mhm. ”

Aikat Spanos: I’ve never been in love before

“I've never been in love before. I thought my heart was safe. I thought I knew the score. But this is why. It's all too strange and strong. I'm full of foolish song, and out my song must pour. So please forgive this helpless haze I'm in. I've really never been in love before”

Phobes Spanos: what love will do to you

“Lately, I've been in a haze. Running late, can't think straight. The world feels smaller, yet the trees look taller. There's enchantment in the air. I know I sound stupid, I do. That's what love will do to you. Read my favorite book. For the hundredth time. At least I know of how it ends. In real life it just all depends”

Yes I know I placed valentine for my baby boy Sebek in the last post, but it fits Leona this time ok?

Anywho hope ya’ll enjoyed this as much as I had fun writing this:D

Finally back to posting shit!! I have had this in my drafts for ages

!!requests are open!!

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

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