#they’re all just traumatised kids | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astonmartinii · 7 months

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i hope your finger’s ok!! please take all the time you need and remember you health comes first :) imma be selfish and send you a charles request cause ur writing makes me smile at my phone like an idiot and i can’t help it :p ok so!! charles x versteppen reader? shes max’s sister and drives for redbull (cause im delulu like that) and they’ve been fighting w each other since they were kids (no one knows why they started arguing they’re j petty and refuse to give it up even though they dk what they’re arguing abt anymore) and obvs they’re in love w each other - maybe another drivers flirting w her or smth and charles j snaps and hard launches the reader cause surprise they’ve been dating each other 🤭 holy shit this is long sorry for rambling 🙏��

angel baby, devil child | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!reader

enemies to lovers blah blah blah

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,743,200 others

yourusername: crazy, crazy race. sorry not sorry to the tifosi, tell ur girl @charles_leclerc to kiss my ass not my rear tyre xoxo

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user1: okay they're clearly still in the enemies phase... when can we skip to lovers

user2: i personally love that charles is the mortal enemy of both verstappen siblings that's so slay of him

maxverstappen1: crop me out again and say goodbye to a tow in qualifying

yourusername: sorry maxy, not my fault i got all the photogenic genes xx

maxverstappen1: erm rude @christianhorner tell her to stop bullying me

yourusername: two can play at that game @sebastianvettel tell max to stop being a baby

user3: the way neither christian or seb replied they really don't get paid enough to deal with them

charles_leclerc: what is it with verstappens and their love for pushing me off the track

yourusername: what is it with your front wing and my rear tyre

charles_leclerc: umm i asked you first

yourusername: stop deflecting babe, we all know you love my ass so much you wanted a touch

charles_leclerc: i'd rather deep fry my hands than touch your rear

maxverstappen1: that can be arranged

user4: can't wait for these three to all be in the same press conference next week 🍿

carlossainz55: my favourite person to share the podium with

yourusername: thanks chilli (@tifosi you heard it here sainz is against ferrari 1-2s)

carlossainz55: NO that's not what i meant

landonorris: i see how it is ... god all men are the same AM I NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR YOU?

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,204,809 others

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maxverstappen1: happy birthday to my bestest friend, biggest rival and favourite roommate. though maybe now you're 23 you can get your own place so you can sneak out to meet up with your secret boyfriend on your own terms and can keep that massive ballsack away from jimmy and sassy. i love you and verstappen dominance 4 ever.

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user7: i love y/n but i think she should bring her cat to races as a scare tactic

yourusername: wrinkle doesn't appreciate your tone but it is duly noted

yourusername: awwwwwwwww i love you maxy !! and you're never getting rid of your little sister unless you get married and ur a big fat nerd so that's never happening xx

maxverstappen1: attacking me after i just bought you a whole ass car

yourusername: i JOKE. thank you soooo much and you'll never get rid of me you love me too much to anyway.

maxverstappen1: enough to finally introduce me to the mystery man?

yourusername: blocked.

user8: are we all just ignoring her doing her literal eyeliner with a knife?

user9: or the fact that max likely walked in and was like oh wait this is a sick shot

danielricciardo: oh no that was me, i'm still traumatised but it's probably the best photo i've ever taken

yourusername: easy to do with a model like me

charles_leclerc: wtf is that thing in the last one

yourusername: rude of you to think ur balls look any nicer

charles_leclerc: what?

yourusername: what?

user10: does anyone want to elaborate?

carlossainz55: happy birthday y/n !

yourusername: thanks carlos, thank you for the flowers 👍

user11: this is either their way of flirting or y/n really couldn't give a flying fuck about carlos' obvious crush on her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 2,098,560 others

yourusername: another trip around the sun and still following my brother around, difference is now i beat him x

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user16: your honour i am so obsessed with her

maxverstappen1: can't even be angry about it, you deserve the world

yourusername: you softy, i love you

maxverstappen1: also dummy i know who your boyfriend is now did you guys forget that we LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER

yourusername: i was intoxicated my bad but we bought you breakfast?

maxverstappen1: literally the only reason he hasn't gone over the balcony, he might want to be gone before this hangover wears off

yourusername: noted.

user17: yall want to share with the class?

user18: based on ^^ this reaction i'm going to say it's not carlos

user19: watch out he'll drop a shit pick-up line in a second and be rejected

carlossainz55: hope you enjoyed your birthday beautiful

user20: bro this guy STINKS

user19: i told yall

yourusername: thank you carlos

user21: i'm sorry this is dry as hell it can't be carlos

charles_leclerc: my shoes will never recover, i'll be sending an invoice your way

yourusername: you're a millionaire boo, you can replace those tacky white trainers yourself

charles_leclerc: is having no manners a verstappen trait?

yourusername: come for max all you want, but the birthday girl? low leclerc

charles_leclerc: when you go low i go lower

yourusername: oh believe me i know all about you and going down

user22: DO YALL MIND?

user23: do they think we're dumb?

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, lancestroll and 1,204,674 others

charles_leclerc: a weekend without racing?

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user24: what is biden doing about the soft launch pandemic?

user25: well this is oddly timed ...

yourusername: you look like you'd have sweaty hands

charles_leclerc: wouldn't you like to know

yourusername: unlike all ur fangirls i've actually smelt you sweaty after a race so you can keep your hands to yourself

maxverstappen1: you heard her 🤨

charles_leclerc: why are you here? is this a 2 for 1 deal on annoying dutch people

yourusername: you can call him annoying all you want, but you love me don't lie

charles_leclerc: my lawyer says i shouldn't comment on that ;)

sebastianvettel: when will you two stop?

yourusername: sorry seb :(

charles_leclerc: sorry seb :(

user26: i know carlos is sick reading this weird flirting when y/n never comments on his pics

user27: she comes here just to flirt cause she didn't even like the photo

user28: she doesn't even follow him 😭

pierregasly: i love a slow burn as much as the next person BUT NOT WHEN I DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS PICK UP THE PHONE

charles_leclerc: you're so dramatic, nobody knows calmar

maxverstappen1: he's lying i do

pierregasly: WHAT

charles_leclerc: by ACCIDENT i didn't tell him by choice

user29: so like, it's definitely y/n LOL

user30: oh no everyone get ready marca is going to run a story tomorrow about how charles leclerc is ruining carlos' career with psychological warfare by flirting with the girl he likes

user31: sainz sr about to wage war lol

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,304,889 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i don't share. i love you. please follow me on instagram now (and let me come on max's jet) x

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user35: HOLY FUCK

user36: they're so fucking sexy my lord

yourusername: you're so weak, one teammate flirts with me and you hard launch, i've had 12 year olds use me as a face claim to pretend they're pregnant with your child

charles_leclerc: they took your face? i happen to quite like it, can they give it back?

yourusername: quite?

charles_leclerc: don't make me look bad you know i positively LOVE YOUR FACE

yourusername: and my ass since it's all you look at on track

charles_leclerc: okay you can drop the act now people know we're in love stop being mean to me :(

yourusername: but it's true, no?

charles_leclerc: rest assured i love your actual ass much more

maxverstappen1: believe me the people she lives with know WAY too much about how much you love it

user37: carlos sainz really thought he had a chance when these fools have been together for TWO years

sebastianvettel: congratulations you two, glad we don't have to watch you two trying to be subtle now

maxverstappen1: so wait when did you find out?

sebastianvettel: about two weeks into the relationship, they were very obvious

yourusername: thank you for keeping our secret dad <3

user38: y/n really said you ARE my grid dad

yourusername: oh no that's my actual dad

charles_leclerc: he's literally going to walk y/n down the aisle

maxverstappen1: please don't tell me you're engaged? i only just got over you actually being together

charles_leclerc: i'm not your brother yet don't worry (i will be soon)

carlossainz55: congrats guys

user39: it's okay bro you can cry

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,301,541 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: two years with the love of my life, still on max's side on val d'argenton x

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user40: they're disgusting (when will it happen to me)

charles_leclerc: we'll have to agree to disagree

yourusername: just admit it you love to push verstappens off the track

charles_leclerc: sorry babe as much as i love you, i'll never let you win x

yourusername: good thing i always beat you then x

charles_leclerc: either way victory sex still bangs

user41: yes, yes they're cute, but i need a full on play-by-play of how this relationship came to be

user42: i know these menaces were giggling and kicking their feet every time they had an argument in comment sections

yourusername: oh it was very fun

charles_leclerc: but the radio messaged are 100% real lol

maxverstappen1: thanks for having my back, you're welcome for all the gross pictures i've taken for you guys

yourusername: consider your payment like every meal i make us

maxverstappen1: well if i did it f1 would be down three drivers

user43: wait so does charles basically live with them now?

maxverstappen1: unfortunately yes. depressing music, even worse cooking than me and horrendously loud sex with my sister. i should kick him out

charles_leclerc: i literally bought you noise-cancelling headphones?

maxverstappen1: nothing you can say will save me from this trauma

yourusername: just shag daniel and get off of our case x

note: ahhhhh i am so sorry this request took so long, my inbox keeps moving stuff around lol. my finger is good thanks for asking, the human body is a wonder and i peeled off the last of my scab this week lol. i hope this was the kinda thing you were looking for !! xx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc x you

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sindar-princeling · 2 years

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The previous post made me think some more about the real life influences on LOTR, so because I’m down with a cold and have a lot of time to spare, I finally wanted to write a coherent post about those comments GRRM made about Aragorn and his tax policy.

For those who haven’t heard the actual quote, here it is:

Tolkien can say that Aragorn became king and reigned for a hundred years, and he was wise and good. But Tolkien doesn’t ask the question: What was Aragorn’s tax policy? Did he maintain a standing army? What did he do in times of flood and famine? And what about all these orcs? By the end of the war, Sauron is gone but all of the orcs aren’t gone – they’re in the mountains. Did Aragorn pursue a policy of systematic genocide and kill them? Even the little baby orcs, in their little orc cradles? In real life, real-life kings had real-life problems to deal with. Just being a good guy was not the answer.

And my god, do I have problems with this approach to Tolkien. It’s kind of like asking why Bilbo was unconscious for a lot of the battle of five armies, when we know it was a story Tolkien was telling his kids before sleep.

When looking at LOTR, I think you can’t not read it as an ultimate escapist fantasy - and what’s most important, Tolkien’s personal escapist fantasy.

He is Frodo - a man born into a middle class family, educated, well-read, with close friends coming from the same “social sphere”, like Merry and Pippin, who died in WWI. Sam is in a very literal sense the batmen Tolkien fought with, which he said he considered “so far superior to myself”.

Tolkien had a few batmen during the war, like the article from my previous post mentions. Most probably because he fought in a few different units, but also, he may have lost some of them to war.

And in LOTR, they all get a happy ending.

Of all four of them, Frodo is the only one who can’t return home, most probably mirroring Tolkien’s trauma. He’s the only one whose ending is grounded in trauma, PTSD, loss. The rest of the hobbits get happy endings - very simple and traditional in a way that after the war was nothing but good - they marry, they have kids, the kids marry each other, everyone is happy and lives long lives.

Sam, especially, gets the happiest ending of all in this sense - he marries a woman he grew up with, he has so many beautiful kids, he is mayor for like seven times and everyone loves him, the Shire thrives.

Tolkien was too traumatised after the war not to write Frodo as a mirror of his experiences. But then he took all the people who fought alongside him, who suffered alongside him, people who he lost, and gave them the happiest fairy tale endings he could think of. And it’s not that Merry, Pippin and Sam weren’t as traumatised - this ending is not meant to belittle their experiences - Tolkien is simply giving them the ending that real life didn’t give them.

Returning to the original point, to Aragorn - it’s just another version of the same mechanism. Gondor was struggling, Gongor had Mordor as their immediate neighbours and was heavily affected by the war as well. And then there came a just, good king, and everything was fine. The end. It’s a subplot of the same fantasy as the hobbits’ endings. It doesn’t matter how hard ruling is, we trust that Aragorn is a good king, because people of Gondor deserve a good king (the people of the real world deserved a good ruler who wouldn’t drag them to war), and we know that Aragorn is an honorable, just man.

Nothing about the LOTR ending - apart from Frodo’s trauma - is meant to be realistic. Why would Tolkien want to write WWI and the aftermath - this time fictional.

#flips the table eats the mic and leaves #it's mine my own my precious #meta #frodo #samwise #merry #pippin #aragorn #tolkien #the lord of the rings #lotr

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jouno-s · 2 months

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the sheep do not deserve the absolute shredding they get from the fanbase 😭 it isn’t generally the fault of the fans, i blame it more on whatever the fuck bones studio did to fifteen in the anime adaptation bc fuck knows that was all over the place, but man i wish people were a little more sympathetic towards them

yes they absolutely ordered chuuya around like a dog and yes they stabbed him. we can agree that was bad. but i feel like you really have to consider the context

the sheep are separate from other organisations in bsd in that they are formed entirely of young orphans who are likely mostly traumatised. they live on the streets and also have to cope with larger organisations like the mafia lurking around— they are scared and rightfully so

i always think back to the lines in storm bringer where it mentions the sheep drinking alcohol under a bridge. they’re clearly all very troubled kids who are struggling just to survive

yeah i don’t think that cornering and stabbing chuuya was right but i don’t hold much blame over their heads for the things they did when it’s obvious that it’s their situation making them so scared and paranoid. the sheep weren’t just some average toxic friends that were out to get you, they were traumatised kids trying to survive

#bsd #bsd the sheep #bsd chuuya #bsd shirase #this feels so repetitive but i’m tired pls forgive me #just needed to talk about them bc i love the sheep and the amount of hate they get is frankly strange to me #i’ve seen more hate for characters like shirase than i have for actual main antagonists #also i do not personally think dazai was the *entire* reason that they betrayed chuuya #this is not abt him #this isn’t a post i’m aiming to spark debate with #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fifteen

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hyperfixatedfandomer · 1 year

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What if Spider got caught by the RDA together with one of the Sully siblings? (Headcannons)

General headcannons:

Although the three oldest Sully kids posess ikrans, they cannot fly with them as they wish since the recom squad had special chips attached to one of their wings that will explode on command if the kids try to bolt. They’re completely trapped even when in the air.

Spider and the sibling end up cuddling for warmth and emotional support every night. He used to be excluded from the cuddle piles back at high camp but now that he is the only comfort his siblings have, he tries his best to provide it.

The caught one of the three oldest Sullys is forced to wear recom squad’s donated clothing when traveling back to Bridgehead for regular reports. The clothes are way too big for them as they’re meant to be worn by bulky avatars but they make it work.

The caught one of the three oldest Sullys is forced to endure the brain scanner with Spider when they’re first brought to base, but as their will is not as iron as Spider’s they end up spilling clues. None of them actually picture high camp but they give recoms hints as to where they could search for traces of the Omatekaya.

Whoever Spider ends up caught with, he will develop a strong, perhaps a life-long bond. A captivity that lasts for months is quite a traumatising event and having a sibling to be there with you through it will make their relationship ten times stronger.

Tuktirey headcannons:

The recoms are holding themsevles back big time for her. They try to tone down the cursing, handle her gently and try to stay on her good side. Overall, being captured with Tuk is more than bearable. She is mischievous but in a fun way.

Spider goes full big brother mode and Tuk is sucking up the attention like a sponge. Lo’ak is currently in that stage of puberty where he finds kids extremely annoying and Neteyam is never around since he’s busy with being handed adult responsibilities so the girl doesn’t get to experience much attention from her siblings, which changes with Spider.

Spider is rarely more than a foot away from her, always there to calm her when the big soldiers with their guns and ammunition get too overbearing. They end up holding hands almost all the time as the motion reassures her, so she turns quite clingy during their captivity.

Spider is like Teyam, but more fun, Tuk thinks as Spider runs around the forest with her on his back and despite being nearly the same height as him she’s quite light. He entertains her, plays pranks with her on the recoms and responds to all her silly, childish questions. The avatar squad silently thanks him for it.

When Tuk grows comfortable with the recom squad, she begins making cute jewellery for them. Soon, the mercs end up covered in flowers, pins, armbands and necklaces which Miles allows as it goes hand in hand with their plans of going "Na’vi". (it doesn’t he just likes taking a piss at his subjects walking around in colourful jewellery)

First night of their captivity, Tuk couldn’t fall asleep as usually, at this hour, she’d be listening to her mother sing lullabies and receive a forehead kiss from Neteyam. When she tells that to Spider he takes it upon himself to sing the little sister lullabies or tell stories every night. Her favorite part is when he takes a breath, lifts his mask and gives her a kiss on the temple. She falls asleep almost instantly afterwards, curling into the blonde’s chest.

The colonel will never admit it aloud, but the sight of Spider doing that is extremely adorable. He picks up a habit to wait until his son falls asleep and does the same to him so as he doesn’t forget that despite the role he was forced to take, he is still a kid.

Lo’ak headcannons:

The recoms squad had no idea what kind of hell they were in for when they caught the two. Separately, the boys are manageable, but together they turn into actual demons. Harsh pranks, jokes repeated to the point they’re no longer funny and other stupid, borderline punishable behaviour becomes a daily routine and the mercs are forced to adopt a no nonsense attitude to keep the gremlins in line.

Lo’ak is treated as Spider but with less rights. He is a hostage just like the blonde of course, but doesn’t have the privilege of being a human or the son of the colonel so the soldiers feel little need to play nice with him. If he fucks up, they will tell on him immediately and Quaritch is less inclined to hold back with his punishments, often grounding Lo’ak from climbing or flying and on occasion, if he really messes up (like patching up an escape plan) — eating.

Lo’ak is also often used as leverage when Spider becomes too rowdy. If he cursed out the colonel too many times, tried to get away or physically fought back with the squad, all Miles needs to do is throw one dark, sadistic look towards the younger Na’vi and Spider will find himself backtracking almost immediately, aware that Lo’ak isn’t as valuable to the group as the blonde himself.

For that reason Spider develops a bit of a protectiveness towards his friend. Sure the blue boy is taller and stronger, but he’s also viewed as less than him and the two of them are travelling with a pack of bloodthirsty avatars who are out to get their family, so when they or more specifically Quaritch gets agitated or agressive or hostile towards the kid, he’ll find Spider standing between them, shielding Lo’ak from his father’s fury and diffusing the situation.

Lo’ak feels guilty that he puts so much pressure in Spider to protect him, so he’d try to guard his sleep. He’ll hold his brother close and eye the recoms with a death glare, but always ends up going out like a light.

Miles makes it a habit it to cover up the kid with his jacket. He is, again, tall but also quite thin and was caught shivering on more than one occasion. The colonel keeps telling himself that he only does that so the blue brat doesn’t catch a cold and slow them down.

Kiri headcannons:

Most of the recoms had their big sibling/parent instincts activated when she got caught together with Spider for reasons they don’t understand, so overall she is treated just as well as her human brother. They don’t talk to her much, but she is well-behaved and it’s all that matters.

Kiri and Spider have that rare, one in a million sibling relationship that expresses itself in constant verbal/physical affection and support. The two of them get along so well the recoms assumed they were dating at first, but it turns out the reason to their bond is ✨trauma of orphanhood✨

Quaritch doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry at the cruel irony he sees in front of himself. Never in a thousand years would he had imagined the daughter of a woman he despised being the closest person Spider has. Their bond is sickeningly sweet and genuine.

The squad finds themselves getting attacked by local fauna almost every day, often several times but the animals are suspiciously avoidant of Kiri and Spider.

She tries to teach spirituality to the recoms, hoping that if she gets them to connect to Eywa they’ll enlighten and drop their mission. Her lectures are almost as annoying as Grace’s, but nothing could top her preachy, almost derogatory tone of voice so they bear with it.

Surprisingly, out of all the siblings in this situation, Kiri is having the best time in captivity thanks to being held with Spider. He is her absolute favorite brother and she always wore that fact proudly on her sleeve but back at high camp the human would often disappear with Lo’ak so on many days, they didn’t get to spend much time together.

“But now I have you all to myself!” She chirped, hugging Spider by the neck in an over the top, crushing embrace as Spider dramatically pretended to choke. In difference to Lo’ak, her dynamic with Spider while filled with teasing and jokes, is much more gentle and they often find themselves sarcastically (but not really) complementing each-other. The recoms think they’re about to get diabetes but secretly love looking at it. It boosts their morale.

Quaritch actually picks up on some things Kiri tries to teach. He plays it cool but the girl can see the way his ear leans towards her when she speaks, unable to hold back a smirk at the cute display. Her mother couldn’t get through to him, but perhaps she’ll succeed?

Neteyam headcannons:

The recoms are wary of the oldest Sully. While he is still quite playful and chidlish, there is a heavy air of menace around him. He is scheming an escape plan, they know he does, it’s in his every lingering glance, every fake smile and every motion. He is very well behaved but observes the squad like some guinea pigs in a cage and in return, they keep a constant watch on him, always alerted.

It doesn’t help that Neteyam looks like his mother as well, especially to the colonel. Spider vouched for him, said the kid had never murdered anyone before, but his unrelenting stare is the one of a killer and Quaritch refuses to let the boy out of his vision. He always watches him, even with the peripherals.

Out of all the siblings, Spider and Teyam have the worst relationship. It was fine when they were little but as the oldest Sully got burdened with the responsibility of being an heir, their friendship slowly faded into the oblivion and on most days they barely saw each-other. It’s awkward, so awkward in fact that even the squad of highly-trained mercs feel uncomfortable looking at the two teens as they silently try to rebuild that long-lost bond through physical gestures.

The two boys don’t know what to do. They desperately want to be protective of one another, but how do they go about it? Neteyam is the oldest of the Sullys and has experience of taking care of his siblings but Spider on the other hand had always possessed caretaker instincts and, as the older of the two, is morally inclined to ease Neteyam’s mental burden of being trapped with the people who are out to kill his family.

It starts out slow: Neteyam begins putting his hand on Spider’s back or holding his hand when he gets tired and starts lagging behind, and Spider stands between him and the soldiers when they get too agitated by his unnaturally silent, observatory behaviour. They barely talk to one another, but spend a lot of time next to each another and awkwardness slowly changes to comfortable silence as the two reconnect.

At night, Neteyam cradles his smaller sibling when he is deep asleep while guarding him, and in difference from Lo’ak, he doesn’t fall asleep unless he decides to. At all. Quaritch nearly catches a heart attack when he wakes up one night and sees Teyam’s glowing eyes piercing his soul like an animal ready to pounce.

Miles tried to cut the boy some slack, but he looks way too much like Neytiri, and the man can often barely look at him. He knows Neteyam can feel his fear and it’s perhaps the most annoying part about being forced to traverse the wilderness of Pandora next to him.

Author’s notes: PHEW! Finally, my first ever neatly organised headcannon list. Hope you enjoyed! I rarely write for the Sullys but I’d love to explore them more in my works so if you got any prompts or ideas or feedback — feel free to drop them in my ask box! ❤️

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testingthewatersss · 4 months

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Jericho Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. Bucky Barnes x (injured) F Reader Oneshot 4430 words Angst, fluffy, fluff. 18+ MDNI

Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced. Bucky loves her. He really loves her. So what happens if she gets hurt? not for long, just for angst.

She wakes up slowly at first. Consciousness creeping in towards her like a flame flickering at the end of a very deep tunnel.

It’s memories. Jumbled and inaccurate. And then it’s voices.

It’s Tony’s voice. His laughter, echoing around her. It’s the sound of his panic, thick and hidden under the more familiar lilt of frustrated sarcasm.

And then it’s screaming.

It’s Natasha shouting urgent, desperate phrases in English and Russian.

It’s the word Sister, and Sestra- which mean the same thing.

And it’s Steve. Steve using the Captain tone he usually reserves for lectures.

And then it’s silence.

It’s silence, and an ache in her side as the reason for the darkness behind her eyes comes back to her at once.

I got stabbed, she thinks— or was I shot?

Both, maybe? Probably both, knowing my luck.

She hadn’t thought about how likely this outcome was when she’d acted, really.

She hadn’t thought of anything other than Steve.

Of the way his shield was on the ground behind them both, and the way that he was looking the wrong way, talking to Bucky-

Oh, god— Bucky.

His face, watching horrified as she’d pushed his old friend out of the way— only getting more distraught as she’d fallen.

At least she didn’t have to hear him screaming.

Her chest aches as she tunes into the distant sound of beeping.

It’s getting faster by the second.

She wonders if she’s dead. If maybe this is- well, it’s probably not hell.

Remembering the traumatised look on her lovers face is painful, but it’s not torture.

Not hell torture anyway. Though the more she dwells on the last thing she remembers seeing that wasn’t darkness she’s not certain that it’s not getting harder to bare.

Purgatory seems possible.

That would be okay. She could make her peace with purgato-

Ouch.

Okay- Okay- that’s new

A hot, sharp pain flares across her flank, making her whole body tense.

She still has a body.

That realisation makes her head spin.

And then, yeah- that’s a groan.

She’s groaning.

Not dead, then.

Wounded, though. Definitely wounded.

Her hand goes to feel the source of the pain, but no-

“Hey, No”

Back to voices then, she thinks grimly, surrendering to whatever state her body wants to be in with a sigh.

“Are you awake?”

Am I? she thinks, trying to decide on an answer.

“Y/N- Can you hear me? It’s Bruce.”

Bruce. Bruce Banner.

“You’re in medical” he says next, “You took a hit, been out a few days”

She tries to reply, knowing she should, but all she hears is a moan, barely louder than a breath.

Still, she hears a spool of elated laughter.

“Good! That’s good- I’m going to get Tony-”

and then she can’t decipher words anymore. Just steps and excited chatter.

and she wants to ask him not to go- because now she’s aware, she’s scared.

The beeping is getting faster, and faster and the pain is getting sharper and sharper and she doesn’t know what’s happening other than that she’s clearly in bad shape—

“—Hey, Hey—” she hears, “—calm down, you’ve got to stay calm”

That is so annoying.

It’s the same thing she’s said to hundreds of patients, but still, hearing it from the other side is just… annoying.

She tries to roll her eyes and realises they’re taped shut.

That only makes her panic more, because if they’re taped shut then she’s been unconscious for more than a day—

days, he did say, days

“Where is she?!”—“What’s goin’ on?!” —“Is she awake?!” “—get out of the way—”

The last voice is Tony’s.

It’s the only one she recognises instantly, and it’s the only one that actually makes her feel better.

“Hi, kid” he says, tone soft and almost relieved, “can you hear me? You’ve gotta let me know you’re okay..”

He sounds desperate. It hurts worse than her ribs.

I’m okay, she tries to say, “-‘m okay”

and then he’s laughing, loud and relieved, and she realises that at least some of that had been audible.

“Get the tape off her eyes” Tony instructs next, “up the pain relief.”

Just the knowledge that he’s there. That her brother is there taking control of the situation makes her feel better. Safer, and more able to relax.

She feels fingers on her face, gentle and cautious as they peel the adhesive strips away from her lashes.

“Keep them shut” a voice she recognises as Bruce advises, “Just for right now.”

“I know” she thinks— she says. That’s her voice. She’s speaking.

A smile tugs at her lips as she tries to wet them.

“I’m a doctor, remember?”

Yeah, it’s a little dry, but it’s her voice for sure.

And now there’s laughter, again.

So much laughter. Tony’s and Bruces, and others, mixing with the annoying medical sounds that are still going off in the background.

“Friday, dim the lights-”

I’m in tower medical, then, Y/N thinks, or Tony wouldn’t be talking to FRIDAY.

“-Alright, slowly—”

That’s Natasha.

That’s Natasha’s voice and god, she’s almost certain that’s her hand on her brow.

“—Open your eyes.”

With a poor attempt at a grimace, Y/N obeys. Blinking tiredly until her vision clears enough to make out the collection of faces surrounding her.

Tony and Natasha are the two closest. Both look hopelessly relieved. Steve is there too, off to the side with Bruce, he looks elated. They both do, actually, they’re both beaming so wide that she can’t help but try and return the expression, even though her cheeks ache.

Bucky.

He’s not there.

Her poor attempt at a grin drops instantly.

Eyes flicking around the room in frantic search-

What if he did something stupid after I went down?

“Hey” Tony cautions, reaching down to steady her head, “Hey, relax”

“Where is he?” she asks, dry voice cracking, “Bucky, is- is he okay?”

“He’s fine” Natasha replies, “He’s there, see, he hasn’t left.”

She watches the red head nod over to her right, to the side where the others aren’t gathered.

Oh.

He is there.

He’s sat on a plastic chair that looks ridiculously small compared to his frame, starring at her with wide, sore looking eyes and all she wants to comfort him.

She goes to reach out, but then she feels it.

Metal fingers curled around her palm. Warm and solid and locked in position.

“Hi” she whispers, seeing the sheer exhaustion he’s sporting, and realising he probably hasn’t even been blinking much while she’s been out— “Did ya’, miss me?”

Tony scoffs again, and she feels something cold running into her vein from the cannula he’s clearly messing with;

She doesn’t even bother to look. She trusts him completely, and besides, her gaze is set on the tears that have started to stream across Bucky’s face.

He’s still. Not even breathing in a visible way, but tears are now pouring from his eyes.

“I’m alright” she swears, “I’m okay, I promise.”

As she says that, she cringes. Something hurts.

There’s pressure on her side, and it’s painful. She grits her teeth and breathes.

“Sorry” Tony tells her, “I’m almost done.”

“What happened?” she asks, looking back at Natasha now.

“You got shot” the other woman replies, “Pushing Steve out of the way.”

“I’m so sorry-” Steve goes to say, Y/N cuts him off with a shake of her head that makes her temples throb.

“How long was I out?” she asks firmly, directing the conversation away from his misplaced remorse.

“3 days” Bruce replies, before Natasha can, “2 nights.”

“From a bullet wound?” she says, exasperated, “I’m getting old.”

Tony scoffs again, and then he’s back in her line of sight—

“It wasn’t a bullet that hit you, it was Steve they were aiming for-”

When she furrows her brow, he sighs, pawing at his goatie and frowning.

“-Remember those Super Solider ballistic plans we found in Berlin?”

Vaguely.

She vaguely remembers a USB stick full of weapon plans.

Tasers and grenades and smoke bombs full of crippling gas and -

Bullets that expand upon impact, releasing toxins into the muscle to paralyse the target while increasing the amount of blood loss—

“Oh, god” she moans, “That sucks.”

“You’re an idiot—” Natasha cuts in, just as Tony starts laughing again, relief making him almost giddy—

“I’m a hero” Y/N corrects smugly, “I”

“You could’ve died” Bucky says suddenly, in a voice that sounds totally shattered-

Ouch.

That hurts more than whatever her brother was doing to her wound.

“Hey” she exhales, turning her head back over to stare at him, “I told you, I’m alright”

“…I- I could’ve lost you” he replies weakly, like he hasn’t even heard her reply, “…You went down and I- I couldn’t-”

“-Buck” Steve cuts in, tone sympathetic but warning, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t” Y/N agrees, hating how injured she looks, flat on her back on a hospital bed, “Is this what you’ve all been doing while I’ve been past out? Trying to decide who’s fault it was that I got shot?”

The disbelief in her tone turns almost angry by the time she’s finished her question.

“Seriously?” she says, bitter now, “It was my fault- There- I’ve answered it for you— Ow! Tony, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Sedating you” he replies calmly, “Your pulse is 210”

“Asshole”

He mutters out a ‘yep’ that sounds so cheerful she almost suppresses her groan of dismay-

Almost.

“I thought you wanted me awake” she says, angry now. “You’re going to sedate me because I’m telling you-“

“I’m sedating you because you’re going to give yourself a stroke” Tony cuts in.

She hears it then, the strain in his tone that lets her know that he’s no more happy about her returning to unconsciousness than she is.

That’s all it takes for her to stop fighting. To sag back onto the trolly with a sigh of defeat and final glance at Bucky which is half apologetic and half accusing.

Has he really been sitting by my bedside wondering if he could’ve gotten himself hurt instead? She thinks bitterly, Maybe he just wishes you could’ve changed things some how? But- how exactly?

What could he have done?

What could any of them done?

Darkness shrouds her before she can come up with any answers.

Her lack of clarity doesn’t matter, though. Because Bucky- Bucky has a list of answers.

He’s been formulating it since the second he took his place at her bedside, aching and non blinking with the image of the love of his life lying wounded on the ground.

Reminding himself of her new position, safely within the medical bay of the tower hadn’t helped much. Not with her looking the way she did.

Steve had called it ‘peaceful’.

“She looks peaceful, Buck.” He’d told him, “not like she’s in pain, she just needs to sleep it off- she took a hit”

Like he didn’t already know that she’d taken a hit.

She’d taken more than a hit.

She’d taken a super-soldier grade ballistic to the chest to save him. To save Steve. To save him from losing Steve.

‘It’s not his fault’ The ghost of Y/N’s voice had reminded him, or- or maybe it had been Natasha’s? Soft and Russian, whispering like their conversations should be a secret.

‘Don’t blame Steve, Barnes. He feels bad enough about it already’

In hindsight that was definitely Natasha.

Y/N only calls him by his last name when he’s in trouble. It’s always playful and teasing and never, ever, sandwiched by Russian.

Ms Romanoff on the other hand? She calls him Barnes more than any other name or title, and she’s always barking at him in whatever language she wants, though, somewhat expectedly, Russian is the default when they’re trying not to be overheard.

Why are they trying not be over heard now, anyway?

It’s not like it would’ve mattered if someone had heard them. Steve would be upset, he supposes, but, even that wouldn’t make a difference to his current situation.

Realising that almost makes him feel something other than the all consuming ache he’s been drowning in ever since he’d seen-

No.

Absolutely not.

Bucky is very good at not letting himself dwell on certain memories and that is one he has no intention of ever revisiting.

All he knows is that something changed the moment it happened.

Something in him changed. It’s like his DNA shifted to allow for more pain than he’d ever felt before, which is saying a lot really. Considering how much pain he’s lived through already.

All of that had been better.

He’d happily beg for another lifetime of Hydra tortures if it meant he could erase the memory of that.

But he can’t. He can’t do that. And he can’t feel anything other than the agony now it’s there. So, even when faced with the very real possibility of hurting his oldest friends feelings in a way that even he recognises as cruel, he can’t bring himself to care.

Not about anything other than Y/N, and the way her breathing is slower now.

Not much slower, but, yeah- it was rhythmic before. Quick, but stable. Now it’s… less.

Panic.

Panic makes his throat tight as he watches.

‘She’s fine’

That’s not Natasha.

That’s Steve.

There’s a brotherly hand on his shoulder and he doesn’t even make himself shrug it away. No, he just sits. Watching.

Making his list of what he could’ve done differently.

Of what they all could’ve done differently.

It’s a long list.

429 items long by the time she opens her eyes.

By the time Tony has made sure she closes them again its up to 500.

He wonders absentmindedly if he’s ever going to stop adding into it.

Maybe?

Probably not.

He knows people are talking around him. Tony and Bruce, Wanda even drops in to check on Y/N, but Bucky tunes them all out. Eventually Steve and Natasha become background noise. They blend in with the rhythmic beeping of machines and hum of the air conditioning.

‘Buck, did you hear me?’

He tilts his head a fraction, eyes not shifting from his lovers chest as a familiar voice presses for his attention.

‘I’ll go’ Natasha says calmly, clearly not expecting him to reply.

That’s fair. He wasn’t listening anyway.

‘I just thought he’d want to-‘

‘Want to what?’ He hears himself say, voice gruff and dry.

It’s sounds foreign to him now, like it’s coming from a stranger.

‘She’s going to want her own clothes’ Steve repeats, putting his palm back on his shoulder, "since she’ll be up soon, I figured you might want to go grab her something from your room’

It takes a while for his brain to process the other man’s sentence,

‘Where’s her brother?’ He asks, looking around for the other Stark, wondering why he wouldn’t have gone himself.

‘Tony crashed a couple of hours ago’ Natasha says conversationally, ‘now they know she’s out of the woods, him and Banner decided to finally try getting some rest- you might want to think about doin’ the same’

He shakes his head sternly. Eyes back on his partner.

Her chest is still rising and falling so gently that his own heart races in response.

‘She still keep her sweats in the second drawer across?’ Romanoff aks, not bothering to press the issue of him sleeping.

It takes Bucky a few seconds to answer her with a confident nod, and then she’s gone.

Steve leaves at some point too. Silently, or at least, without Barnes noticing, and then, Natasha comes back. She hands him a bundle of cream cashmere that is so soft that his metal fingers barely register the weight of it.

‘Be careful putting the top on’ Natasha advises, ‘it’s a button up, so it should be pretty easy’

He looks at her, sore eyed and confused. She cracks a laugh at his expression before crouching beside him so that she can make eye contact more easily.

‘If you swap her outfit now, she won’t have to move, if she does it herself when she wakes up, she’ll feel it’

He swallows drily, understanding. He looks over at Y/N again and feels tears spilling across his cheeks again.

Natasha shakes her head kindly, before reaching up to wipe them away with her palm. The action reminds him so much of Y/N and how she comforts him that he flinches. She stays silent, looking at him with sisterly concern.

‘This time tomorrow she’ll be telling you she’s fine’ Natasha says calmly, ‘until then, I promised her I’d always look out for you if she couldn’t, so do us both a favour and drink some water-‘ she pauses, handing him a metal flask, ‘and help her into her clothes, you’ll be gentler than me’

She pats his knee fondly before standing and leaving the room, knowing he’s more likely to follow her instruction if given space and privacy to do so.

He’s not sure when he brings the bottle to his lips, or when he puts it down, empty and light by his boots.

He doesn’t know when he makes the conscious choice to move either- to stand, peeling the covers away from Y/N so that he can remove the thin hospital gown from her body and start to replace it with the cozy offerings Natasha had brought down from the room they share.

The room he hasn’t been able to force himself to enter without her.

He disconnects her IVs with ease. Slipping her arms into the sleeves with such painfully gentle movements that she would have struggled to feel them even she had been awake. It’s only when he has to shift her hips to raise the bottoms that she seems to notice at all.

It’s only the slightest furrowing of her brow, but it makes his breath catch painfully in his throat all the same.

The thought of her hurting her is more than he can bare.

He finishes quite quickly after that, and then, he realised that he doesn’t want to return to his chair. He wants to stay right by her side, where he can feel the warmth of her breath in the air, where he can see details of her face, even when his eyes inevitably glaze over.

He drops to his knees without hesitation, resting his cheek on the pressed sheet by their tangled palms.

It’s dark.

Y/N realises as she blinks tiredly that it must be night time, now. There is a gentle glow from the monitor and the lights in the hall, but otherwise the room is shrouded in shadows.

Her eyes find the seat that Bucky had been in before, when she finds it empty, she hisses in a nervous breath, catching a glimpse of her own chest and noticing the clothes she’s wearing. Before the distraction can take too much of her attention, she hears the low breathing beside her. It’s so familiar that her pulse settles in response.

There he is.

Sleeping quietly with his face by their hands.

He looks exhausted. Even in the dark she can see the deep-set hollows beneath his eyes. She can see the sunken edges of cheeks that always appears when he skips a few to many meals.

“Your metabolism runs too quick for that, Barnes’ she reminds him in a horse whisper. “You need to eat”

That’s all it takes to startle him awake-

Her almost inaudible scolding.

“Hey” she purrs, seeing his eyes snap open, “I’m sorry, sweetheart… I didn’t mean to wake you”

She means that. He clearly needs to rest.

He’s gawking at her, horrified that she’s apologising to him.

Before he can formulate a response she swallows dryly. It looks painful and he’s instantly moving, reaching over with his flesh hand to pass her the glass of water that’s waiting on the side table.

She takes it silently, draining it before passing it back to him. He discards it quickly, and then she sighs;

“Come on, angel” she murmurs, “come snuggle up”

He blinks at her confusedly until she humours him, offering a smile as she pats the space beside her on the bed.

It’s small, a regular hospital trolly, but she moves herself over before he can object, knowing the pain the adjustment must’ve caused her-

“I’m worried about you, Buck” she says quietly, “I know I scared you, I’m sorry, but I’m okay- I promise, alright? I’m gonna be just fine”

He opens his mouth to object to her apology, but she shakes her head to silence him before he finds the words,

“I missed you” she adds gently, “I’m tired, baby- You must be too”

When he sees the way she’s looking at him, he finds himself nodding in agreement.

“Yeah” she says encouragingly, “yeah I thought so, come on, come up here” again, before he can object, she adds, “You’re not going to hurt me, Tony’s got me on so much morphine I can’t feel anything, and we both know I’m not going to back to sleep with you down there…”

It’s Bucky’s turn to sigh then. He knows when he’s beaten, and even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it, he really does want to just hold her.

Despite her assurances, he’s so afraid of harming her that he barely lets himself touch her, leaving half of his body over the edge of the bed as he puts his head mechanically on the pillow. He’s on his side to face her, and when he sees her laughing silently, shaking her head fondly he feels himself crying again. The tears burn his eyes, stinging sorely before spilling across his cheeks,

“C’mere…” she purrs, adjusting herself and trying her best to tuck him into her front, “don’t cry, sweet boy… I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere….”

“I’m so sorry” is all he manages to say as he surrenders, sniffing lamely as he curls into her embrace, “It’s all my fault- I nearly got you killed-”

“Hey” she cuts in, reaching down to cup his jaw, “it wasn’t even you I took the hit for”

He shakes his head stubbornly,

“I was watching Steve” he reminds her quietly, “I had his six, that way my position-”

“Yeah, during the job” she counters dryly, “we were done, Buck… nobody was holding their positions or I’d have been with Natasha, not Steve”

He goes to shake his head again, but her hand on his face stops him,

“James” she says seriously, “I knew what I was doing- I thought it was a bullet, but still- the only people to blame are me and the bastard that shot me, I’m guessing there’s no point asking how he is?”

“No” Bucky admits quietly,

“Did Natasha get him?” She wonders,

“Tony” he corrects gently, ashamed that it hadn’t been him.

She beams at his response though, and then he feels her fingers in his hair and has to bite back the desperate whine it draws from him.

“Did she take good care of you for me?”

He feels his cheeks burn pink,

“She tried” he confesses, “I-”

“Haven’t been very cooperative?” She guesses softly,

He nods, biting his lip to stop himself from sobbing.

“That’s okay” she purrs, leaning in to press a kiss against his brow, “I’m not always good at that either”

The skin is hot against her lips, she nuzzles into him, knowing how desperate he is for the contact. It feels nice for her too, having him so warm and close beside her-

“Let’s call a Jericho” she suggests next, knowing that considering their situation, that should’ve been the first thing out of her mouth.

He blinks at her, stunned.

A Jericho was something they came up with when they first got away from Hydra. When the idea of working with SHIELD was first broached with the young Stark, when Bucky had panicked and gushed about his fears about not being able to handle being in the field, despite his overwhelming desire to help out.

No matter what was going on, no matter who was asking either of them to do anything. If either of them ever wanted to pull out, for any reason, they’d call a Jericho, and they’d both know that until further notice, fighting was out of the question. They’d gone over the details with Tony, knowing that he’d be the one dealing with any disappointed council members should the two former winter soldiers decide to take a leave of absence.

He’d only ever called one, when he’d had a flash back so terrible on route to the job that he’d whispered the word frantic and in Russian to his partner, while they’d been sat together on the Quinn jet. She hadn’t said anything to him, just nodded once and whispered something to her brother. All Bucky remembers happening after that, was the hanger emptying around them, and Y/N turning the craft around, flying them both straight back to the tower. Nobody had ever questioned them, and he’d never had to explain.

Even now, he thinks she’s probably calling it on his behalf. Despite the nagging guilt that thought breeds, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming wave of relief.

‘Yeah’ she nods encouragingly, ‘yeah, baby… Jericho, huh? I’ll let you fuss over me for a while… just promise me one thing”

He’s exhausted he realises. 3 days without sleep had finally caught up with him, he can’t even make himself reply.

Anything, he thinks tragically, I’ll do anything, I swear-

“Stop blaming yourself” she requests gently, knowing he can’t really help it, “don’t blame Steve, don’t blame anybody, okay? If I thought any of you could’ve done something to stop it, I’d have told you…”

Hes crying again. He can feel it. And then, before he can lock his jaw to stop it, a sob jumps up from his throat.

“Barnes” she whispers again, “it wasn’t your fault, don’t beat yourself up because I got brave, you held your position, you did so good in there—”

“I- I- didn’t keep you safe” he argues wetly, words cracking in his throat,

“Sweet, sweet, solider” she says adoringly, “of course you did, even while I was passed out you kept watch”

I did, he thinks urgently, I kept watch- just like he’d done back then, when the medical staff were far from caring, where watching from wherever they could was the only way they could protect the other from further harm-

She nods in agreement, even though he hadn’t spoken.

“You did great” she murmurs gently, “now, you need to rest up, okay- rest up with me”

Masterlist

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just-another-author-i-guess · 1 year

Note

Hey can I request something with judd birch I don't really have a prompt can you just make something fluffy and cute I need some soft love in my life lol

I literally had a dream about this last night, so here you go lol sorry it’s not like super soft, it’s just school hc’s

Tags: gn! Reader, kinda?, leaning towards fem, mentions of s e x 🫣, and alcohol, Judd’s driving, school should be an actual warning tbh

Summary: the one day a month when Judd show’s up to school.

Author’s note: I skipped my math class to write this,, 🤷🏻‍♀️ yk you gotta think like your characters when you write about them lmfao

Surviving a day in school with Judd

Word count; 1,1K

so, let’s say your boyfriend has one of those rare days where he decides to actually show up to school

He’s so, so tired in the morning

I’m talking slow blinking, yawning and constantly leaning his forehead on stuff to try and catch a quick nap in class or while standing up

He’s also constantly complaining, acts like it’s your fault he has to be there

He will be following you around the entire time too

No one will talk to you willingly the whole day because Judd is just always standing broodingly behind you

You’re getting something from your locker? Judd is standing there, scowling and leaning against the lockers besides yours so no one except you can get to their stuff

You’re talking to your friends? Judd will still just stand there a bit behind you, glaring at your friends or using his whole body weight to lean on you

Even if you’re talking to his friends, he’s not that talkative, he prefers just to let you lead the conversation

He does actually have those, friends I mean, like people he can hang out with if you’re not available, or people who host parties

You’re definitely getting initiated into his friend group as soon as you start dating, they’re all kinda like him anyways so you’d fit right in lol

But omg he’s so clingy at school

He just misses you between classes, yk? ),:

After the first classes, he’ll be more awake

You can’t tell if that’s good or bad tbh

It’s not like he actively goes out of his way to disturb classes or anything, but he’s definitely not an ideal student either

Like, he’s not one of those annoying kids who purposely talk really loudly or throw stuff or whatever

but he will sit with his feet up on his desk if he feels like it, doesn’t respond when he gets called on, will call the teacher a colourful variety of curse words and ends up getting kicked out and send to the office

Maybe just don’t call on him and he won’t insult you? 🤷🏻‍♀️

(He’s also literally the worst partner for assignments ever)

That’s in his own classes at least,, let’s say you share a PE class with him and it will very quickly turn into “hey let’s skip and go fuck in the bathroom”

The days were Judd shows up to school is definitely the days you get in trouble/ and/ or detention

Okay but that’s another thing, the other half of the day he will just show up outside of your classes

Either because he got kicked out of his or he has a break or something, he’ll just stand outside and wait for you to come out so he can drag you somewhere and yk,, get all the horny out of his system

Maury also straight up refuses to deal with Judd’s school, as soon as he enters he’s doing his best to convince Judd to find you and have sex or something instead

Omg,, the many, many, poor people you’ve traumatised in the school bathroom or parking lot

(He will also fuck you in his car in front of the school lmfao)

You usually eat lunch with Leah or your respective group of friends, but when Judd’s there you’ll eat with him

(You probably have to pay for his lunch🧍🏻)

Sometimes, though, he’ll drive you two out to get McDonald’s or something

Leah will sit with you at lunch too, so she can bully Judd for showing up or rant to him about something or whatever

Also if anyone’s bothering her, Judd is the best way for her to get out of talking to them

After lunch, you have a class with Leah so he’s once again left to his own devices

He reluctantly goes to his own class because he doesn’t have anything else to do lol

Unless it’s a teacher that’s really really nice, he gets kicked out again

The man literally spends the entire school day just roaming around because he keeps getting send to the office lmfao

He would probably try to get into the school’s vents as well? He’ll crawl over to where your class is and bother you by throwing paper or something through the vent

You’re just sitting in class, and suddenly a bunch of small paper scraps falls from the ceiling and lands in your hair

You look up, only to see your boyfriend grinning and gesturing with his head for you to leave the room

Leah sees it too and has to do her best not to burst out laughing 🫣

Surprisingly, he shows up to after school detention

Definitely not because you dragged him there and told him it was his fault for getting you roped into it as well—

You two sit in the back, and you try to do your homework while Judd naps

Sometimes you’ll share headphones or Judd will steal some of your notebook paper and draw on it

Judd is super distracting literally by just existing, he’s the loudest quiet person ever if that makes sense

When you’re finally out of school, Judd is by default expecting yet another rendezvous in the back of his van

It’s actually kinda fascinating how much the guy can go in just one day—

But anyways, he’ll drive you home or to his house or wherever you wanna go

Sometimes you come with him to pick up Nick from school

Okay so here’s one of Judd’s secrets

He can actually drive like a normal person 😮

I mean, sure he’s always a bit above the speed limit and a bit too close to hitting ppl walking close to the road, but he almost only drives like a race car driver when Nick’s in the car

Because he knows Nick hates it lol

You would have gotten used to it by now, because you know he isn’t actually gonna hit someone

But Nick doesn’t know that

Driving really, really fast is probably also a way for Judd to destress or wind down after a long, and boring, school day

He’ll pass the fuck out when he gets home from school

Well, he’ll knock back half a Jack daniels and raid the fridge and then pass out

You’re more than welcome to anything in the birches fridge yourself, so if you’re feeling particularly nice pls make him something sustainable

His idea of a proper meal is literally a bag of chips— I’m so stressed

Anyways, congrats. You made it through a whole school day with Judd lol

Don’t expect him to show up again tomorrow, though 🤷🏻‍♀️

I love doing Judd headcannons 🤭🤭

Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn

#big mouth #judd birch #judd birch x reader #big mouth x reader #headcannons #judd birch smut

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babytarttdoodoo · 10 months

Note

kind of a rouge prompt idea but “i just told a story at work about my childhood that i thought was really funny but now everyone is super quiet and someone said i’m so sorry” but it’s jamie + the team edition. like he talks about a traumatising James Thing and has no idea how horrifying it is until they’re all like …… wtf

love your writing! <3

Thanks for the prompt (and the lovely compliment)!

I’ll preface this by saying I have next to no knowledge of dentistry and you should not assume any medical assertions made here are correct.

((I also feel like I should add that I finished this one off while more than a little tipsy.))

Enjoy the himbo chaos.

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

“Ay, dios mio, it was terrifying.” Dani put an emphatic hand to his chest. “Earl. He still haunts me.”

“Thought you were over that, bruv.” Isaac frowned up at him from his usual spot on the locker bench.

“On the pitch, yes. But at night…” Dani shook his head mournfully. “I have dreams of being chased in the dark. I know it is him.”

“I used to have dreams like that.” Colin piped up, pausing in tying his laces and looking haunted. “‘Cept it was my nana chasing me, on her mobility scooter.”

A few people sniggered and Isaac clapped Colin’s shoulder. “That’s fucked up.”

“I never remember my dreams,” Sam mused. “But I have always been a very deep sleeper. My father says I was the envy of all other parents when I was a baby.”

“I have only ever had one nightmare.” Richard declared. “All of my beautiful little teeth fell out of my mouth and I was ugly. Who will kiss me if I have no teeth?”

“Who’s losing teeth?” Jamie asked, joining the conversation from the doorway with a furrowed brow.

“We are discussing nightmares,” Jan explained matter-of-factly, then turned back to Richard. “Dreams about losing teeth are commonly attributed to stress.”

Jamie shook his head, still looking confused.

“Nah, don’t get that one, mate. Your dentist can just stick ‘em right back in, can’t they?”

That sparked a round of horrified protests and Jamie flapped his hands like a conductor to quiet the rabble.

“Eh, eh, I’m right!”

“Actually…” Sam held up his phone, open on an NHS webpage. “Jamie is correct.”

The locker room erupted into disgust and outrage while Jamie grinned smugly and tipped his I,COG cap to Sam for the assist.

“Hold on, how did you know that?” Isaac demanded, staring at Jamie like he had two heads. That quietened the team a little as heads swivelled in Jamie’s direction.

“Knocked two of ‘em out when I were, like, 10.” He shrugged and tapped a fingernail against one of his front teeth in demonstration. “Mum’s friend were a dental nurse. Told her to put them in some milk and take me to hospital.”

“You were very lucky.” Sam commented, still scrolling through the information he had found. “A significant gap in your teeth can lead to premature ageing.”

“And what a tragedy that would have been, eh?” Jamie beamed, gesturing to his face. “To think I might have deprived the world of this top tier mug.”

Other players groaned and laughed, a few tossing socks or discarded shirts in Jamie’s direction while he ducked, sniggering.

“How do you know they gave you your real teeth back?” Bumbercatch questioned, with an air that suggested great suspicion of the dentistry profession as a whole.

Jamie considered that. “Fair point,” he conceded. “They feel like mine, though.”

“Wait, how do you even manage to lose two teeth at once?” Colin interjected, muffled by his fingers as he prodded his own mouth in confusion. “I’ve never lost any after my baby teeth.”

“Took a snooker cue to the face.” The team winced as a collective and Jamie nodded sagely. “Were pretty grim. Blood all over the pub floor and everything.”

“You were 10?” Thierry clarified, face scrunched up. “Do kids normally get into bar fights here?”

“Well, yeah, s’pose not.” Jamie shuffled in place, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable. “Weren’t a fight so much. Dad took me in to watch a match and it all kicked off a bit.”

An uneasy quiet overtook the general hubbub and more than one face went stony at that revelation.

“Mate.” Jeff looked like he’d rather not be the one probing further, but had bitten the bullet anyway. “Your, uh, your dad wasn’t the one with the pool cue, was he?”

“Eh…” Jamie glanced around the room before answering. “Well, yeah. He was. But I’m, like, 90% sure it were an accident.”

Chaos detonated like a bomb.

Isaac and Richard jumped to their feet, one cursing in French, the other demanding to know how long it would take to get to Manchester. Colin seemed to be googling train times.

Dani had taken to rifling through his bag, looking for god knows what, and Thierry was strapping on his mask like it was war paint (he didn’t even need it anymore, he just liked looking scary).

Jan was a terrifyingly silent pillar in the middle of the storm and Sam… Well, Sam looked like he had been gutted.

“OI!” Roy’s bellow commanded immediate silence, players freezing mid-shout. He was framed by the door to the coaches’ office, arms crossed and typical glare set in place. “What the fuck is going on out here?”

“Close ranks!” Jamie all but squeaked, invoking a hallowed, sacred vow from the team to collectively shut the fuck up.

All eyes turned to Issac who, as captain, had the final say.

On balance, he decided it was probably best that their new manager didn’t get arrested for murder before the season even got underway.

“Agreed.” he finally acquiesced and the whole room affirmed their compliance sullenly. It just wasn’t worth the forfeit to cave in under Roy’s (very effective) glare.

“... right then.” Roy finally allowed, still looking at them all suspiciously. “Then get out on the pitch and stop wasting our time.”

Everyone clamoured towards the tunnel, eager to escape the intense atmosphere. All except Jamie, who was still hurriedly pulling on his kit.

He tried not to seize up when Roy sidled over.

“You’ll tell me later.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question and Jamie knew better than to take it as one. He slumped in defeat.

“Yeah. Probably.”

#is it crack!fic or is it just afc richmond #who's to say #fic prompts #fic prompt #my fic #jamie tartt #isaac mcadoo #colin hughes #sam obisanya #moe bumbercatch #dani rojas #jan mass #jeff goodman #richard montlaur #roy kent #ted lasso #richmond himbos

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clockwork-carstairs · 3 months

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the last hours was actually so tragic. like maybe it’s the edwardian london thing that makes it seem more tragic to me but damn all that miscommunication made them all so LONELY and isolated when they didn’t have to be. in tid even when will thought he was cursed he had jem, and even when he was being awful to tessa she still had other people in her life like jem and sophie. jem and tessa had no family, but they had people they talked to and shared their fears with. in the dark artifices, they’re this really strong family unit, the tragedy is horrible but there’s a network around them all (blackthorns + emma + kit) so no one’s really alone.

but in the last hours like….these kids HAVE parents and friend groups and supposed best friends even, yet they seem more isolated than any other series mains. james doesn’t tell anyone about the gracelet and what he went through (fair enough bec it was terrible and traumatising). but then it’s not just that. cordelia isn’t telling anyone what she’s going through. lucie isn’t telling anyone what she’s going through (trying to bring someone back to life???) – and they’re supposedly best friends and future parabatai! and matthew isn’t telling anyone what he’s going through, not his parabatai either, and no one wants to address how visibly he’s suffering. and grace, she’s actually alone. and it just seems so lonely and sad and they all seem so isolated even though they shouldn’t be, because unlike the tid and tda mains, the tlh lot actually have parents and their own homes (for the most part). the start of chain of thorns especially is just really painful because they’re all suffering ALONE when they all have people around them they just don’t bridge the gap. it just feels so lonely which is almost ironic bec what about the friendship of the merry thieves and the parabatai bonds and best friendship?

#i was just remembering how it felt reading the last hours and compared it to tda and tid and it makes me feel so like sad to think about #even though the series i acc cried over was tid and tda NOT tlh #the last hours #tlh #tlh spoilers #chot spoilers #tid #the infernal devices #tda #thoughts idk #tsc #chain of thorns #james herondale #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #matthew fairchild #matthew will always make me sad though he deserved better #and christopher dammit #grace blackthorn

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ficklecat · 3 months

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13!

“was kakashi trying his best? / was he a "good" sensei?”

So I could write an absolute essay about this very specific take but I will do my best to be concise.

Was he trying his best? Yes. Was he a ‘good’ sensei? Eventually.

Long and short of it, we all can agree Kakashi was NOT READY to be a sensei when he left ANBU and was moved to be a Jounin teacher. You can see in the eps how he essentially had anxiety attacks during every test he gave, his fear of failure and of the fate of the squads he’d pass should they not work together were re-traumatising him at every turn. You can also see it in the juxtaposition of Gai’s exam with his students and Kakashi’s - Gai blocks their blows and delivers gentle defensive hits, allows his students to come at him instead of pushing them. He’s smiling and encouraging them and egging them on, and even when they don’t “defeat” him he informs them of the positive attributes he saw in their teamwork and tells them with development they’ll be successful.

But Kakashi is in his head and acting like he’s on a battlefield. He’s focused on the worst outcomes. He’s kicking kids across the training grounds like they’re real assailants - because that’s what he knows. He’s angrily telling them they won’t survive essentially - not because he’s an asshole, but because he KNOWS, and he’s SCARED for them, and more than that, he’s scared HE will be the one who sent them off to die unprepared. Just like he was.

Rumors spread that he’s a hard ass and this and that but you can tell so clearly, he’s not trying to be “bad” at this job. He’s a professional after all. But he’s fresh out of ANBU where he was known as ‘friend killer,’ on the heels of death after death, still not having dealt with any of it, still avoiding joining his friends at dango, etc etc. He’s not well. And Hiruzen says - ‘go teach the next generation not to die.’ Are you kidding? OF COURSE he’s gonna freak out, even if he’s doing the best he can. He even talks with Hiruzen about how he feels like he might not be ready for this, and they have that little chat about how Hiruzen thinks the next squad will be better suited for his skills.

But even with team 7, Kakashi isn’t always in “teacher” mode. He does TEACH them things, of course, but even when he is lecturing them or explaining, it’s as if he’s doing so via tactics and survival understanding, not like Gai for example, who provides encouragement and mentorship. Kakashi is all business - again, this does not make him a bad teacher.

It makes him a good squad leader though. And that’s what Kakashi is. That’s where he thrives. He’s drafted into ANBU by Minato under half-baked protective pretences, sure, but he doesn’t get promoted for them. He gets promoted because he’s good at being a leader to his squad. He’s a strategist. He’s intelligent. He’s highly skilled and he can provide his squad with detailed plans, intel, and objectives with ease. It’s where he thrives, and it’s all he knows. And he’s made it his literal life’s mission not to fail at this because he knows the consequences are death.

So that’s how he functions as a sensei. Is he fantastic at it? Of course not. But he plays to his squad’s strengths where he can, because that’s what a good squad leader does. He goads his students like subordinates on a mission rather than mentee’s - he teases out their motivation with quips and ribbing, he points out flaws plainly and delivers fact without being over-emotional. If they’re on a mission and they might die, he’s going to say “we might die, pay attention” instead of “this is an opportunity to hone your focus” because on a mission, in battle, in WAR, there’s no time for all that.

SO anyway, that’s my take on all this, in an essay I promised I wouldn’t write. Is Kakashi a good sensei? He gets there. Is he the best? No way. But he DID do his best, and he gets better as he grows alongside his squad. He grows as he learns to be less afraid. So I think he does a good job in his own way.

#long post soz #thanks for the ask friend!#axel replies #ask game #naruto asks

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dysfunctional-doodle · 1 year

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Uncle Donnie WIP for my own AU, ‘Weird Science’

The Weird Science AU is a time travelling uncle Donnie AU I made up where the future is a little different. Rather than the brothers die one after another once the Krang invade, they all get killed in the first battle apart from Donnie, who wakes up to find they’re all dead.

But Donnie is nothing if not stubborn and decides that he’s just going to break the time-space continuum to fix it all again.

More details under the cut :)

Years pass and he finds himself adopting a kid by accident, destroying the laws of physics to create time travel that takes him and Casey Junior back in time to find the key and stop the Krang. Only, the time travel is…less than perfect, completely untested and crazy. Not only do Donnie and Casey not arrive at the correct time, they keep blipping unexpectedly to different points in time at random queues.

Basically Donnie trying not to break the past, and still somehow fix the future before and protect an apocalyptic human child, not necessarily in that order.

I will also note that this version of Donnie (his design and personality) is inspired by @somerandomdudelmao ‘s Future Donnie. If you haven’t read Cass’ comics yet, do it. They’re very fun and not at all traumatising.

Will remain a WIP until exams are over, then I might finish it who knows. Feel free to ask questions though, it will help me plan it better :)

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sage-writes-n-coins-mogai · 4 months

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What radicalised me into the youth liberation were my parents.

They smacked me, took away my possessions, threatened to destroy said possessions, emotionally neglected and abused me, ignored my declining mental health, ignored my autism and ADHD symptoms, had my thoughts, feelings and opinions dismissed because “I’m just a kid”, called me lazy and selfish because I just wanted to rest because I’ve been on my feet for the past four hours looking after my baby sibling, told that my pain doesn’t matter because “it could be worse”, taught that my emotions don’t matter, taught that I can only rely on myself even when I clearly need help, taught that what’s between my legs is much more important to them than what’s between my ears etc. etc.

Because of all this, I’m both terrified and resentful of my parents especially my step father, who’s an ignorant Gen X cishet white man who has admitted that he believes he’s better than everyone when in reality he’s just surrounded by mentally ill/disabled people and literal children who are still learning how to be people.

I’m not joking when I say that I that I’m glad I’m moving out, but I’m really worried that I’m going to “mess up” somehow and my parents will chose keep me home longer. They hold so much power over me, even more than they know, they’re capable of absolutely destroying my life and I would be incapable of stopping them because we live in the middle of bush and it’s a three hour walk out.

And I bet you my bottom dollar if my parents knew how I really felt about them they would punish me in someway because hating the people who traumatised you is crime apparently :/

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chaifootsteps · 19 days

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Wanted to introduce you to a minor stolitz rewrite or I guess, interpretation? I came up with that has a blitzfizz angle if you squint, because I think you might like it.

Some time ago there was a deep and vulnerable moment which is rare from Brandon Rogers, when he was being interviewed by Anthony Padilla, he talked about being assaulted by a beating, and then getting up on stage for standup minutes after. But the audience never noticed. He said when performing for audiences it brings him a sense of fulfilment to know that during the few minutes or hours of that show he gets to forget about his pain, and the audience gets to have fun and enjoy the show and forget about theirs. Those moments of escapism were precious, and I wrote that for Blitzø, this was the extent of his affection for stolas. He’s basically an audience member, a loyal fan. This is why when stolas wants real devoted personal love, it ruins it for Blitzø because it feels like a fan who got a backstage pass once, and maybe even an autograph or handshake, but for some reason thinks this makes them real friends/lovers. And he keeps coming backstage without a pass, and doesn’t understand why security stops him, he even shows up to his house after the show ends. With no idea what he’s done wrong when cops turn up (this type of thing happens all the time to lonely people with mental illness, and is the type of moral complexity I think would suit stolas, someone who is dangerous but still sympathetic) And blitzo feels so much guilt and pity at this lonely, socially inept person, and not to mention feels the flattery of having a fan for once, he finds it hard to get really mean about it. But when stolas gets angry he feels genuine fear and does whatever he can to appease him. Which terrifyingly, is interpreted as reciprocation.

For “One Night Only” like his circus poster in his office suggests, they both got to escape and pretend-to be this powerful, seductive sexual being bringing amazement to a Prince who in turn, gets to pretend his true love has arrived to save him. But just like the circus episode, stolas got too obsessive with a parasocial attachment. He wanted to take Blitzø home, to keep him in his bedroom, to take out and play with whenever he needed. Forever. For Blitzø it was like encore after encore, a show that doesn’t end. And he just wants to go home to his partner, the other kid waiting for him at the circus to play horsies again, and the only other imp in the world who truly understands how it feels to be used as a toy (hell, he was turned into one!!)

And I think like the sex toys running out (if I can try to turn even that into a metaphor) he has exhausted all of his tricks and doesn’t have any more material for stolas. But the show must go on, he thinks, that is until stolas finally sees the cracks in him, and against his own wishes for this to be his soulmate, his attraction to Blitzø starts to die. Because it was artificial from the start. And he doesn’t like the real person as much as he thought. They’re just deeply incompatible. Which breaks both of their hearts, for very different reasons.

When stolas asks him why he ever gave him a night at all or showed kindness to him, someone who now has nobody, Blitzø says nothing and just calmly looks at the photo of stolas smiling holding Octavia, then looks back to stolas. As if silently telling him he knows he’s not a complete monster, that it’s not all over, he is capable of finding real connections with others, he has his daughter. His real ‘hero’ and light in the dark. And knowing how much this relationship has hurt and traumatised Octavia, its the nail in the coffin. There is hope for stolas, but not for this relationship.

In the end he gives him back the book, thanks him for their time together, and for loving him, even when stolas is protesting (kinda like Diane to Bojack) his final action to him is a bow, his last words to stolas before leaving his life forever are “You will be okay”

Goddamn, Anon...you owe me a box of kleenex for this one.

Thank you for this. It's gorgeous and perfect and I wish with all my heart that it were canon.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #stolitz critical #helluva boss critical #actual blog post

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around1302 · 10 months

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YOU WROTE ME

SPARE PARTS: blurb 1/1

THE TROUBADOUR, LONDON

(W) strong language, alcohol use, brief smut: if u can call it that

THIRD PERSON’S POV

9 MONTHS POST-SPLIT

“Why can’t you just trust that it’ll be fun?”

“Because you don’t even know who’s playing! What if it’s some screamo guy and I get traumatised.”

“Please, Charlie, you’ve met my friend. You think he’s going to guitar for a screamo guy?”

Charlie pauses, remembering everything she can from the brief meeting between her and Becca’s friend at her house party last week.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

Becca rolls her eyes, nodding in gratitude at the bouncers who let them into the Troubadour, past the lines and lines of people. Charlie has to admit that’s promising, at least. Surely a hundred teenage girls wouldn’t be queueing for something unworthwhile.

“I thought as a musician you’d be buzzing for a free invite to the Troub!”

Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes, now.

“The Troub?”

“Let me pretend I’m in on the lingo, too.”

“God, you’re just making it worse.”

Becca is Charlie’s only remaining friend from her pre-band days. In contact far too little, but enough to see each other in between schedules. Becca manages a restaurant in London, and throws killer house parties every Saturday. It’s ritual.

Of course, with band life, Charlie barely ever attended. But since the split and a (much too long) nine month hiatus from the industry, she’s had a little more time for living her 20s like she never entered that competition in the first place.

“You want a drink?” Becca shouts over the already loud crowd. Just as Charlie opens her mouth to answer, her forearm’s gripped so tightly she’s sure the blood supply’s been cut off.

“Oh my God! Charlie Greene?” A girl practically screams in her face, holding the hand that isn’t keeping Charlie there in a death grip over her mouth.

Despite her usually extreme routine when it comes to being avoided in public, Charlie assumed tonight could be a one off. Who would recognise her in this crowd, in this venue? Panic strickens her before Becca has to step in, shoving the girls palm off.

“Dude, don’t touch strangers like that.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just such a huge fan. I can’t believe you’re here! We all thought they were just rumours.”

“What?” Charlie’s dumbfound, forgetting all that media-trained ‘smile at the fans, don’t let them know you want to punch them’ bullshit.

“You know, you and–”

“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice kid, but we’re just trying to enjoy our night. You want me to buy you some alcohol to get you to go away?”

“Becca–”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, of course. E-enjoy your night.”

The poor girl scurries away, screaming something to her group but Charlie’s too riddled with guilt to hear what.

“For fuck’s sake, Becs, she’s like sixteen!”

“Gripped you like a forty year old WWE champ though, look at your arm!”

Charlie glances down, noticing the white and red splotches beneath the hazy blue lights. Becca has a point, even if she was a little harsh about it.

“Screw the drinks, let’s just get backstage before anyone else tries to cut off your circulation.”

Nodding, Charlie follows Becca through the crowd, making sure to keep her head down this time. Of course they’re asked for IDs and stage passes before getting through, Becca proudly letting security know they’re friends of the guitarist.

“I’m so proud of Mitch, man. He’s come so far. Can you believe he used to work in a pizza shop?”

“I know, it’s impressive shit,” Charlie nods, hugging her hoodie tight to her chest. Something bad swirls in her gut as she watches the audience from the safety of a thick curtain, seeing whispers and screams shared.

“You don’t think that’s about me, do you?” She points for Becca. Becca scoffs.

“Nah, don’t get too up your own ass, Char. The act’s probably about to come on.”

The band will be entering from stage left, opposite to them both. Charlie has to admit she’s curious. It’s been forever since she’s attended any kind of underground gig, it’s exciting – what music’s really about.

“Gemma Styles.”

Until that moment.

Ears ringing, throat drying, sweat forming. Charlie grips her hoodie so tight her knuckles blanch – she’s wrong, she has to be. It’s just her mind and anxiety playing tricks on her. It’d be impossible for–

“No way, Charlie?”

“Fuck.”

“… Charlie?”

“I mean hi! Sorry, hi!”

Pretending her ears aren’t still painfully ringing, Charlie accepts the open arms of the woman in front of her. Specifically, the sister in front of her. Her ears stop buzzing enough for her to hear Becca’s gasp beside her, and enough to hear her heart coming up through her throat.

“I can’t believe you’re here, it’s so good to see you!”

The one thing Charlie never understood was how Harry could be so intolerable and Gemma could be so… Gemma. Despite the ugliest truth she’s discovered in a while coming undone, she feels somewhat comforted by her hug and her words and her smile.

Perhaps they’re all a little too alike Harry, or perhaps the opposite. She can’t tell. There’s a lot happening.

“Yeah, um…” at a complete loss for words, Becca quickly steps in.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca. Friends with the guitarist.”

“Oh, Mitch! Isn’t he amazing? I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry.”

Charlie shoots Becca a pointed glare. She apologises again, a little more sincerely this time.

“So does Harry know you’re here? Bet he’s thrilled, are the others here?”

“Um, no. And no. Not that I know of. I’m actually here for Mitch, too.”

“Oh, I–” Gemma frowns, understandably confused, but is cut off by the house lights dimming and some opening music starting.

Charlie pinches at her arm beneath the once soft material, it only now feels scratchy and too thick. Should she run? It seems like her only viable option. Except her feet are failing her and it’s too fucking late because–

“Hi everyone! I’m Harry, it’s a pleasure. This is my wonderful band, and we’re going to play a few songs for you. Starting with a new one, this is Complicated Freak.”

Frozen to her place, Charlie listened harbouring feelings she couldn’t quite place. Part of her wishes she had just done those few shots before she left like Becca had quite smartly suggested, but a larger part of her wishes she never came.

Because fuck, has she missed him.

She’s missed his voice, and his hands, and his eyes, and his dimples, and she could say she’s missed his hair but that’s gone with the last nine months. She missed watching him concentrate entirely too hard on playing the guitar and she missed watching that crease form between his brows as he closes his eyes and just feels the music. His music.

The music that sounds eerily familiar. Then suddenly flashes of a tour bus come to mind; long hair and slender fingers strumming a guitar. Lyrics that rendered a little to close to home but were promptly ignored at the time now echo the venue, echo her chest.

“Thank you so, so much everyone. I’ll see you soon!”

Harry lifts his palm to the roaring crowd, intimate and small yet still as deafeningly loud as she remembers them always being for him. Begging for an encore, or at the very least one more wave.

But it’s only then that she realises, still stuck to the floor, that he’s taking his guitar off. He’s offering the audience one final bow and kiss, and he’s turning, and he’s walking, and he’s grinning ear to ear and accepting his friends and family’s congratulations, and then he’s stopping, and he’s staring, and his lungs have stopped and his heart has faltered and–

“You wrote me.”

His lips quiver, paused in an effort to say the right thing. Say anything.

“Yeah, I…”

It’s as if the venue and people around them grew wings and flew away as time itself stopped just for them. The first time they had seen eye to eye in the time you could grow a whole fucking baby for God’s sake – and yet they could barely speak. So much unsaid, it’s almost too much. What do you start to say to the love of your life – who you lost?

Luckily, the people around them didn’t actually grow wings.

“We’ll see you later, H,” his older sister squeezes his dead arm, nodding towards Charlie (as if she saw) and then the other confused onlookers who had developed behind them during the show but fuck if Charlie noticed.

Gemma leads the group out, leaving the pair of them in a silent standoff, the muted sound of a dying crowd and crew starting to clean punctuating the quiet.

“Drink?”

“I wanted to call you so many times.” Charlie finally admits, three double vodkas deep.

“Why didn’t you?” Harry almost whispers four whiskeys in.

Malibu’s, their old, usual haunt, has been avoided for the last nine months. Not a single band member dared to go, whether it be that Zayn no longer bartends there or that they were afraid of memories. But it felt like the only place for them to be right now. Elbows leant on the same sticky counter, knees pressed together in their tipsy mis-care, no time passed yet the whole world between them.

“I was scared.” Charlie begins. “I needed time, and after I realised that you leaving us didn’t really matter in the end, I was too late.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Harry. I saw the tabloids. A month after we split you were seen with this person, that person. You had moved on from us, from me.”

Her confession is startlingly sobering, and Harry can’t help but gulp down a painful lump at the way her eyes water. Harry hadn’t moved on in any sense of the word, Harry was simply trying to find Charlie in anyone he could. The way in which he had coped with his web of feelings for the woman for the past six and a half years.

“I could never move on from you, Char. I was just… lost.”

Charlie snorts, turning to down the rest of her drink.

“Baby I–”

They both freeze. Harry didn’t mean to call her that, but God, doesn’t it feel natural? Isn’t that why it slipped out in the first place? Yet, a slap in the face would have felt better for Charlie. The vodka gets caught in her throat, the once warm liquor running ice cold down her chest.

She turns, her heart melting at the sight of his face. It’s that same heartbreaking, broken concoction of regret and worry knitting his brows and dripping from his eyes. And it has her lips hungrily on his.

He catches her, grabbing her hips as he opens his legs for her and draws her to his chest, breathing in every inch of her. Because that’s what kissing Charlie is like. Oxygen for the first time, water for the first time, life for the first time. His rough hands snake up her back, grip her sides, pinch her skin. Her nails rake at the nape of his neck, muscle memory expecting locks to hold onto but finding short curls as their home instead.

Their tongues and lips work in an unspoken agreement, all the way to her new apartment by the bar, all the way to her bed.

They didn’t speak. They were both far too terrified to lose this moment. They just needed each other, the touch they’d both been desperately chasing for months. Charlie closes her eyes as Harry’s mouth starts its attack on her neck and is transported to Louis’ apartment, where she first felt that same desperation.

“Please.” She breathes, wrapping her legs around his hips, eliciting from him a muffled groan as she grinds up towards him. He nods into her neck, his lips still working down her soft skin. She still tastes the same, that strawberry vanilla he could drink by the gallon.

Charlie claws at his back, making an attempt to remove his black button-up as he moves down her body. She just about manages it as he settles between her legs, pushing up her denim dress without grace or care before biting the edge of her knickers.

The heels of her feet press into his toned back, her palms already fisting the sheets as he harshly grips her hips to push her back into the mattress.

A million thoughts run through Harry’s head, but fear holds him back from saying a single one of them. Months ago, he would’ve told Charlie everything. How good her thighs feel, how fucking pretty she looks laying there, needy for him. How much her soft little pants sound like she should be begging for him, how hard he is for her like this.

But he can’t. For all he knows, he’s simply a mouth right now. He’s not Harry, he’s just something she needs, and fuck if he’ll be whatever she needs.

So he bites into her inner thigh, sucking away the sharpness as she grips and tugs at his hair. He moans into her skin, eyelashes fluttering against her hips as he kisses the top of her pubic bone. His touch is rough in every place but his lips as he makes a path to her core, pressing teasing kisses over her clit. Her knickers are fucking soaked through, and the sight alone is enough to send him berserk.

“Charlie, I’m gonna have to–”

“Please, just–”

With that sliver of permission, he reaches down, squeezing himself over his trousers. The slightly relieved pressure has him gasping against her lace, which quickly becomes wetter. Charlie sits up on her elbows, watching Harry touch and squeeze while he continues to tease her.

And it’s there. In between the need and the pleasure, Charlie begins to cry. Softly, quietly, but enough to garner Harry’s distracted attention.

“Hey, hey,” Harry moves back up her body, tugging her dress back into place as he squeezes her hip, “I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s fine.” Charlie’s voice cracks as her head hits the pillow, hot tears quickly meeting her hairline before she can wipe them away.

“Sweetheart–”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” Charlie murmurs between gritted teeth, sending Harry aback. He sits up on his heels, his touch slowly leaving her. Charlie presses her palms into her eyes, squeezing the tears out as she muffles sobs against her hands.

“That’s the problem.”

It’s hardly above a whisper, but Harry hears every last syllable. Leaning back over her, he removes her fists, gently brushing her blotchy cheeks.

“I’m just drunk and emotional and weird and–”

“Stop it,” Harry murmurs, pulling her up to sit in front of him. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” When she doesn’t budge, he drops his head and whispers, “please.”

Charlie finds his eye. In so many ways, he’s unchanged. He still looks at her like that, and it crumbles her, just as easily as it did all those months ago.

“Everything got so fucked up, Harry. The band, me, us. I haven’t sang a chord in months. I see the guys, what, once, twice a month? And you…”

“It’s my fault, Char.” Harry sighs, collapsing beside her, rubbing his face. “I left, I split everyone up–”

“You needed to.” She interrupts, stern. “I didn’t realise at the time, it took me a while to accept it, but you needed to. Niall was starting a family, everyone was starting to burn out, even if we didn’t want to admit it.”

“You did the right thing.”

Those fives words are all that Harry’s wanted to hear for nine months. He’s spent countless, sleepless nights wondering if he’d messed everything up for everyone, forever. If in his selfishness he’d forgotten to use logic.

“I’m just not sure I did.”

Harry frowns, turning to look at Charlie.

“What do you mean, Charlie?”

“I worry that I was… hasty. Rash.”

Harry can’t help the small smile that starts to tug at his lips. He lifts his knees and rests his chin on his palm to hide it.

“I did a really messed up thing, you were justified.”

“No.” Charlie sighs, looking at the ceiling. “I was right to be mad, but I wasn’t right to have said all the stuff I did. I was especially not right to leave you.”

Harry’s chest jumps, but he tries to calm his excited heart before Charlie can finish. When it comes to her, there’s no real predictability. She might be about to destroy him all over again.

“Those six years mean more to me than anything I’ve done in my entire life. You were there through everything, every shitty and amazing thing, all I can think about is flashes of you. My sister, my audition, my first heartbreak, my first– I could go on and on, but the point is, you were there.”

“Even if you annoyed the shit out of me for the better part of it, you’re my life, Harry. I was stupid to think I could ever live it in the same way without you.”

It’s impossible to fight his grin, now.

Charlie finally turns to face him, instantly rolling her eyes at the sight of him. His entirely too wide smile, his glinting eyes and how they quickly flit to her lips, the twitch between his brows that lets her know he’s holding back a comment.

And despite his speechlessness, his answer is obvious.

“You sure you don’t want someone easier?” Charlie lilts, swaying into him.

“Why on Earth would I want anyone else?”

“I don’t know. I yell at you a lot.”

“I’d rather have you hate my guts than have anyone else.” Harry takes her waist, easing her beneath him again as he hovers over her. “I’ve spent my entire life waiting to hear you say that, you know.”

“Entire life is a bit dramatic.” Charlie drapes her arms around his neck, her fingers finding his nape. That hair is going to take some getting used to.

“Nope,” Harry pops his P, leaning down to press a kiss to her jaw. “You’re my life too, Char.”

She leans back into the pillow, her thumb circling his neck. “You mean it?”

It’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, now.

“You really have to ask? What more could I possibly do to prove to you that you’re it for me, you always have been.”

Charlie smirks. “I could think of something.”

“Always thinking with your dick, Greene.”

Charlie lets out a scoff, and Harry let’s his chest do whatever it wants.

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