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kinghairington · 2 years

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Love Walks In [E.M.]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader Word Count: 1.3k Summary: You run into Eddie Munson at a music store one night and an unexpected flame is ignited. Warning: SFW. This is very fluffy. Includes 2 f-bombs courtesy of our boy and dissing of The Smiths/Morrissey. A/N: There are no mentions of the reader's physical features other than Eddie acknowledging that reader is a woman. Reader is the same age as Eddie. This is set during the summer of '86. Loosely titled after Love Walks In by Van Halen. Masterlist.

One of the best things about summer in Hawkins was that most stores on Main Street stayed open later, meaning you could hang out wherever you wanted after getting off work. Tonight it was the music store. What better time to stock up on some tapes to play in your car than in the summer when you could go on late night drives without a care in the world.

The music store was the sort that played an entire album before switching to another, usually an upbeat rock album or Wham! to up the energy in the store. But, tonight, someone was clearly in a mood. You had already heard three songs by The Smiths since the moment you stepped inside. The melancholy atmosphere was not exactly the best for shopping, and apparently you weren’t the only customer who felt that way.

“Yes, there is a murderous desire for making me listen to his whining!” Someone exclaimed, their voice easily heard over the music.

The volume of the outburst caused you to jerk in surprise before curiosity set in and you glanced around to see who had been brave enough to yell out the insult. Someone could get kicked out of the store for that, you were sure.

You hadn’t seen Eddie Munson since you graduated high school two years before, but he hadn’t changed much. His hair was a little longer, maybe he was taller, but it was no surprise that he was the one causing a scene. He always knew how to draw a crowd.

Well, no one else was in the store.

It was just you, Eddie Munson, and one bored looking employee who undoubtedly was the culprit of the music choice. So not a scene so much as a small incident that passed as quickly as it occurred.

You laughed anyway, meeting the man’s eyes when he lifted his head from the records he was already back to flipping through. He smiled crookedly at your reaction and took in your appearance. The recognition on his face was almost immediate.

“Hey!” He called out as he rounded the table and came to stand in front of you, one hand grabbing onto the bottom of his leather jacket and the other going up to his hair. “I know you.”

Then he pointed at you and tilted his head in thought.

“Class of 1984.”

You nodded and smiled politely, planning to go back to your search, but you found yourself speaking up.

“I know you, too.”

“You remember me?” His voice was surprisingly bashful.

“It’s hard to forget someone who walked around school like they were the most popular guy but it was kind of the opposite.”

“Ouch. Do you bite too?” He gasped playfully and placed a hand on his heart. “Do I need to run away?”

“Everyone knows who you are,” you replied with a shrug. Honestly, you weren’t trying to be mean. That was exactly how you remembered the man in front of you. He was infamous within the halls of Hawkins High. “I never thought you were weird.”

“Well, thank you. You’d be one of the few.”

“At least high school is over.”

Eddie titled his head back and looked to the ceiling, hands clapping together to form a praying motion. “Finally,” he whispered to himself.

That was right - last you heard, Eddie ended up failing his first and second senior year before graduating in the spring of ‘86. It was a surprise Hawkins High didn’t throw a parade around the entire town to celebrate.

When he looked down, he assessed the cover of the cassette tape in your hand and hummed in thought.

“Van Halen? Not bad. I took you for more of a Cyndi Lauper fan,” he said, an amused smirk on his lips.

“You mean you don’t just want to have fun?”

“Different definitions of fun, I’m afraid.”

It was difficult to not smile back at him. There was something extremely contagious about Eddie’s laugh and smile. Always had been.

“She’s pretty cool, but I think we all heard “Time After Time” enough at school dances to want to listen to it on our own.”

The final chords of “Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others” faded out as the record ended and you glanced at Eddie to gauge his reaction.

“Thank fuck.” Eddie breathed out the words, shoulders slumping in exaggerated relief and forcing another soft laugh out of you.

It was quiet for a moment as the store employee changed out the records before the next song began, “How Soon is Now?” playing over the speakers. The volume was cranked up far too loud, but it definitely sent a message for the music critic next to you.

“I believe this is dedicated to you,” you said around a smug laugh. The hope on his face was quickly replaced by a look of pure disbelief.

“Oh, fuck off.” He huffed, but there was a pretty quirk to his lips. Playful.

“It’s not that bad!”

“Not that bad?” He sputtered dramatically, head shaking like he was possessed by a demon before he sobered and fixed you with a serious look. “You, my friend, need a lesson in real music and I have just the teacher for you.”

Eddie produced a piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans. He unfolded it - you noted that it was folded in perfect fourths as if he’d taken his time to fold it just so - and held it out to you face up.

“Corroded Coffin, Tuesdays at The Hideout,” you read off the page. There was a drawn image of a guitar shaped coffin with flames and bats around it, the coffin itself the center of the picture. The lettering was bold and jagged like Eddie himself. “Is this a band? Your band, I’m guessing.”

“Bingo. We play every Tuesday, I play guitar. The crowd isn’t great; we get some newbies sometime. They usually don’t come back, but there’s a first time for everything, right?”

His expression was expectant, brown eyes impossibly wide and too puppy-ish for someone with his reputation. Childish. Harmless. Cute.

And you were kind of a sucker for puppies.

“How can I say no to such a glowing review?”

The positivity of your response acted as a shot of energy to the man who nodded happily before folding the paper back up and placing it in your free hand.

“So you don’t forget,” he said quietly, cordially. “You’ll be the first woman at our gig, to be honest with you, if you don’t count the bartender who says we’re too loud. Um, you might want to bring some friends. That’d be cool.”

“Yeah, sure. I can definitely bring someone.”

“A boyfriend?” The words came out of his mouth in slow motion, the crease between his eyebrows making you wonder if he meant to let them out.

“No. No boyfriend, but I do have a friend who’s wild for guys in bands.”

He let that sink in as he jingled the chain attached to his belt loops. The metal links clinked together, jangle jangle jangle, as silence passed between you again.

“What about you; are you wild for guys in bands?”

Tilting your head in faux thought, you joked, “I guess Morrissey’s not so bad.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m kidding.” You laughed, continuing without looking at him. You busied yourself by putting the flyer in your bag. Then you met his gaze. “I’m no groupie, but I get the appeal.”

“Well, who knows. Maybe you’ll come to our show and find the rock god of your dreams.”

He was teasing, the grin on his face frustratingly boyish and charming, and there was no way you could deny that he definitely fit the type of rock guys your friend was constantly fawning over. That fact was at the forefront of your mind as you parted ways after a few more minutes of talking.

You never would have expected to meet up with Eddie Munson after high school, let alone agree to go see his band play at a rundown bar, but as you left the music store with a few new tapes and a flyer for Corroded Coffin, you made a mental note to tell your friend you had your eye on the lead guitarist of the band.

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #my writing #writing tag

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obito76 · 8 months

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Dr. Rachel and detective Grayson meeting again because an injury after a Police operation ? :3

Fate

The clinic’s soft lighting illuminated the room, casting a glow over the scene that was about to unfold. In this unassuming setting, two figures, once united by extraordinary circumstances, now found themselves together again due to a twist of fate.

Dr. Rachel, known as Raven in a different life, exuded an air of professionalism as she moved through the clinic. Her dark purple hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, and the white lab coat she wore seemed to hint at the concealed desires underneath. Across from her stood Dick Grayson, a detective who had traded his days of leading the Teen Titans for the gritty streets of Gotham. The lines of his trench coat seemed to echo the shadows that had followed him since his days as Robin.

As their eyes met, recognition sparked between them, an electric current of shared history and unspoken emotions. Their conversation danced between sarcasm and nostalgia, every word laden with layers of meaning that only they could decipher.

“So, Back in Gotham and already getting yourself into trouble?” Rachel quirked an eyebrow, her lips curving into a half-smile.

Dick leaned against a wall, a smirk playing on his lips. “Trouble seems to have a way of finding me. Lucky for me, there’s a skilled doctor around to patch me up.”

Rachel rolled her eyes playfully. “Don’t get too comfortable Grayson. Just because I’m a doctor doesn’t mean I’m your personal medic.”

His eyes danced with mischief. “Oh, come on, Raven. You know you missed playing hero.”

A flicker of something crossed her eyes before she regained her composure. “I’m a doctor now, Dick. My hero days are behind me.”

Their banter was a delicate dance, a tango of words that hid deeper emotions. As Rachel examined the injury he had sustained during a recent police operation, her fingers brushed against his skin, igniting a spark that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Ouch, watch it,” he teased, his voice laced with mock pain.

“Please, I’ve seen worse,” she retorted, her touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

Their proximity grew intimate, the air charged with an unspoken tension. Rachel’s fingers moved with practiced precision, her gaze fixed on her work. Dick’s eyes followed her every move, a mixture of amusement and desire flickering in his gaze.

“You’re lucky it’s just a flesh wound,” she remarked, her tone dry.

He chuckled softly. “Luck is not exactly my strong point. Though I’ve always appreciated your way of taking care, why not use your powers?”

She finished attending to his injury, their eyes locked once more, a torrent of unsaid words flowing between them. It was a silent conversation, a meeting of souls that transcended the realm of spoken language.

“I see, thanks Rachel,” he said, his voice softer now, carrying a weight of gratitude.

She nodded, her eyes holding a depth of emotion that words couldn’t capture. “Take care, Dick. Gotham’s different that Jump.”

He smirked, his fingers brushing against hers in a fleeting touch. “You’re not worried about me, are you?”

Her lips curved into a half-smile. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want to see you back here completely banged up.”

The air between them crackled with tension, a charged atmosphere that hinted at the unexplored desires simmering beneath the surface. Their past adventures had forged a bond that time hadn’t dimmed, and as they stood in the clinic’s embrace, it was clear that destiny still had plans for them.

Their unspoken connection lingered in the air like a melody, tugging at their hearts and pushing them closer together. As their banter subsided, a raw honesty settled in, their guarded facades giving way to vulnerability.

Rachel’s eyes softened as she looked at Dick, a mixture of emotions swirling within her. “Every time I see you in situations like this, I can’t help but worry.”

His smirk faded, revealing a glimpse of the man behind the bravado. “I know it’s not easy, Rachel. But I can’t just stand by when there’s a chance to make things right.”

She stepped closer, her fingers reaching out to touch his cheek. “I know that better than anyone else Dick.”

His gaze held a depth of gratitude. “I known you do..”

Their eyes locked, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. With a tenderness that belied their past roles, they crashed onto each other, their lips meeting in a kiss that conveyed years of shared history and emotions too complex to define.

The kiss deepened, igniting a fire that had smoldered between them for far too long. Their bodies pressed together, a reminder of the physical connection that matched the emotional bond they shared. As hands roamed and clothes fell away, layers of pretense were shed, leaving them bared not only to each other but to the truths that had remained hidden.

Their passion was a storm of sensations, a torrent of desire and release that mirrored the intensity of their feelings. Whispers of longing mingled with gasps of pleasure, the lines between words and moans blurred in the haze of ecstasy.

Between heated touches and fervent kisses, their words spilled out like confessions, revealing fears, hopes, and dreams they had kept buried. In the throes of passion, they found a safe haven to share their unfiltered emotions, a moment of vulnerability that transcended their roles as doctor and detective.

Breathless and intertwined, their bodies moved together in a rhythm that matched the pounding of their hearts. It was a dance of rediscovery, a symphony of pleasure that echoed the melody of their shared history. As climax washed over them, their cries mingled with the symphony of the universe, a crescendo of emotion and release that left them gasping for air and clinging to each other.

In the aftermath, as their breaths slowed and their bodies cooled, they lay entwined, their fingers tracing patterns on each other’s skin. There was no need for words now; their bodies had spoken the language of desire, pleasure, vulnerability, and connection.

“I never thought I’d find myself here again,” Dick murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and contentment.

Rachel’s fingers tangled in his hair as she placed a soft kiss on his chest, her eyes closed holding a depth of emotion as she whispered. “Me neither.”

With a tender smile, he leaned in to kiss her forehead, his heart heavy with gratitude and longing. “I’m not letting you slip away this time, Rachel.”

As the clinic’s walls held the echoes of their intimate union, she knew that their story was far from over. With a shared history that intertwined their lives and an unspoken promise of what lay ahead, she embraced the uncertainty, ready to face whatever challenges came her way,

“Me neither.”

---

I freaking enjoyed writing this, I really did

Do tell me how was is, I would love to hear from you guys 😄

Send me more prompt!!

#robrae #dickrae #teen titans #raven roth #raven teen titans #smut #dick grayson #robin #smut prompts #shameless smut #teen titans smut #dick grayson x raven #dick grayson x rachel roth #robin x raven #raven x robin #raven

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meshlasolus · 2 years

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House Of Memories (52/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: ouch this ones angsty

Summary: They haven’t bothered you for years, but now they are back, and they are back with a vengeance.

A/n: okay this is the transition into the events of episode 3 (and some background of what happened before that)

also y'all if you like the story, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

Words: 1.8k

It was still dark, and you couldn’t see anything, but the hands that grabbed at you were not familiar. You branched out with the force, trying to gain any knowledge of who was taking you. You screamed out for help, unable to control your powers enough to face them down. Were you weakened? It didn’t make any sense. You were quite powerful and could usually take down an enemy, despite them having a size advantage. This time it was harder to focus on one thing at a time, because the darkness soon faded. You were brought into an execution room, with torture devices lining the walls and floors. There were creatures you’d never seen before, chanting the words of death in several languages. You weren’t sure how you even recognized some of the words, but you did. Your blood boiled thick when the face of your captor was revealed. It was not human, nor droid, but a robotic mix of the two, with limbs twice as long as yours, standing as tall as a mudhorn but with all the lankiness of a skeleton. You’d heard stories about General Grievous, the tormentor amongst captured Jedi. The one who collected lightsabers from those he’d struck down. You weren’t afraid of him, yet. You couldn’t even say why, you just looked at him with a glare, hoping that you could be the one to destroy him.

He brought you to the center of the room, shoving you away from him, and staring you down.

“You are no Jedi. You,” he used his sharp metal finger to point at you with a crooked tilt of his mechanical head, “are a pretender.”

“And you are a coward, hiding behind an army of droids because you know you can’t win on your own accord.”

Your mind was clear, as you took your saber from your hip, igniting it to show its green glow against the otherwise dark room.

Grievous laughed maniacally, and so did the creatures in the room with him. Your lightsaber was pulled from your hands, and you were unable to stop it. Why were you so weak? Why couldn’t you remember your training?

“Your master has failed you.”

That was the last straw, for all the things you could take, slander against your master was not one of them. You would defend his honor with your life. Selfishly, if you had to.

“And you are about to fail him.”

You froze in place. Unable to move a single muscle or even blink an eye. You were held in place and made to look at the new scene in front of you. Obi-Wan was restrained against a wall, already beaten and bloody. Your heart sank, and you tried to reach for him, but you were still frozen to your spot. The creatures that surrounded you continued to assault him, left and right poking and prodding different devices that had him crying out in pain. He couldn’t even hold himself up, the only thing giving him any structure being his restraints.

“Stop this!” you somehow yelled out, gaining the attention of Grievous, while his monsters continued to have their way with Obi-Wan. “If it is life you want, you will take mine before I let you take his.”

Another laugh of horrific proportions sounded in your ears, his tone of voice was so irritating, and made your skin crawl.

“You have failed.”

Grievous turned back to your master, barely alive as he was, and ignited your lightsaber, before running him through with it. You watched his body go completely limp in the restraints, pulling on the wall as he hung there with nothing left. His blood ran over the floors, seeping under your feet, and you cried out, screaming into the void that soon surrounded you. You were left alone soon enough, breaking free from the trance that held you in place. You sank to your knees beside Obi-Wan, using the force to break the restraints. He fell into your arms, his body broken, and lifeless. You held him close to you, hoping and praying that he wasn’t dead, that this wasn’t real. You wanted nothing more than for him to hold you instead, to tell you that you hadn’t failed him, and that you never would. You tried to wake him, thinking perhaps he might still have some life left in him, and leaned down to kiss his bleeding lips to bring him back to you. Alas, it did not work, and you were left to sob over the body of your Master, and lover. Your tears were everywhere, mixed in with the shedding of his blood on your hands. You’d remembered a scene quite similar to that of this, when he faked his death and led you and Anakin to believe he was gone forever. That felt just as permanent, but this felt worse, because this was you fault. His blood on your hands.

You couldn’t bear it. You screamed out his name to the cosmic force around you, not able to feel his presence the way you always had before. You were connected to each other, mind and soul, a dyad in the force unlike anything ever seen in generations. You could feel his pain, feel his emptiness as his soul became one with the air around you, and you were left alone, with only the worst half of yourself left.

All of a sudden, you could hear his voice, and it was calling you by name.

“Obi?” Your lips trembled, and you wondered how you heard his voice, though there was no ounce of living spirit in his body anymore.

“Wake up my love, please.”

You sat up in a cold sweat, tears rolling down your face, and your breathing was erratic. Obi-Wan looked scared out of his wits, sitting up next to you, and bringing you close to his chest. You were so convinced that they were gone, the nightmares. You had been hopeful that they would never return, but they did, and you could not control yourself from thinking it meant something horrible.

You were still crying uncontrollably, leaning into his chest for comfort as he soothed you, combing through your hair to try and calm your nerves that had you shaking like a leaf that was about to fall from a tree.

“I’ve got you, you’re safe. I promise,” he whispered, leaving kisses over your face to try and help you. You were trying to breath, trying to slow your erratic intake and stop the sobs. You were usually much easier able to control yourself, but it had been a long time since the nightmares plagued you, and you forgot how real they seemed.

“It’s back,” you said, trying to sniffle the rest of your tears away and calm yourself by connecting with his signature. He grabbed hold of yours right back, letting them tangle together. You began breathing in a steady rhythm now, and as he’d come to learn a while ago, you were meditating on him. Rather unconventional, and he never thought it possible to use a romantic connection to meditate on, but whenever you did it, he felt utterly overwhelmed. Just knowing that he was your sense of safety and security meant the worlds to him.

“What’s back, little one?” He pulled you slowly to arms distance, and held your hands gently, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of each one.

“The nightmare, the one where you die,” you couldn’t look him in the eyes as you said the next part, in fears that it could actually mean something. “And it’s my fault.”

His brows furrowed and his heart felt heavy at your words. Did you really believe this? That you could ever be the reason he had died? He knew that when you thought he was dead the first time, you felt a sense of blame for what happened to him, but upon discussing it with you, it was able to be worked through, and eventually forgotten. Until now, it seemed.

“It was just a dream,” he shook his head, leaning it into yours and resting it thee with eyes closed. You weren’t so easily swayed by his words, and backed away from him.

“It’s not, it can’t be…. There’s something I never told you,” you began, looking to him to see if perhaps he had anything else to say, but his waiting stare just faced back at you, lit dimly, but still seen that he was ever so invested in what you would say. “I never told you that the one who kills you is General Grievous.”

His face went stark white at this, and his pale expression worried you. Did this mean you were having a vision rather than a dream? A prediction of what was to come? Your bottom lip was trembling again when he didn’t say anything, and he couldn’t and to let that go on any longer, no matter how much this was to process for him.

“You don’t need to worry, my love, it doesn’t mean anything. It is only the dark side trying to overtake your mind, you must resist it.”

He pulled you close o him again, and you began to feel safer than you had before.

Being back on Coruscant the last several weeks was a good return to normal, but now this horrible nightmare was ruining the beautiful transition, and making it an anxious and emotional one.

“I won’t let you die, Obi,” you clung to him like a wet blanket, breathing him in and letting him out and repeating the process until you were able to feel calm again. “I promise you.”

His shock rested in many things, being that of the name you had only now given him. A while ago, about the same time your nightmares started, he’d been having one similar, one where you were kept away from him, and he could not save you. One where the enemy used his own lightsaber to kill you, the same way his Master before him was killed. The killer in his nightmares was General Grievous.

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he said firmly, and you almost believed him if just for the tone of his voice, so assured of himself.

“I won’t let it,” you repeated, it becoming an oath off your lips. You would stand between hell and high water before you’d let it touch him. Your Obi, the dearest thing to you, your attachment.

You were able to calm yourself down a bit and finally laid back down, pulling him down with you and arranging your bodies so you were as close to each other as physically possible.

He became worried about this new obstacle, and what it could possibly mean for you should the trials happen soon. You were ready, but the dark side was still lurking in you and needing any outlet it could find to prevent you from becoming a Jedi Knight. He didn’t want that to happen, but he had become curious after your confession. He too had these dreams of losing you to Grievous, he was just better at hiding it. Over the years as they faded away, he hoped that maybe it was just his fears plaguing his sleep with restless notions that he may lose you. Now, he was uncertain.

Kenobi tags:

@spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax @mephistominion @honestlywtfisgoingon @anakinskywalkerog @mandiiellen @je--a-n @guyinachair27 @avenger5-a55emble @amelia-song-pond @kaminanii @the-abyss-of-fandoms @queenofnightdreamland @world-dominating-kitty @mandowhatnow @ella-error505 @annahalo @infinity-witch @beetlejuice-stuff @liueski @solarbxby @sirianisrock @lxdyred @endless-warrior-always-fighter @iloveinej @msjb2002 @shoochi @itsilvermorny @gingerrosecosplay @sebschicken @loversjoy @argentinemango @1-800-vader @house-of-kolchek @marierg @graciexmarvel @ttzamara @truly-madly-nerdy @molieux @majahu @dyzlks @pancakefancake

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x padawan #ewan mcgregor

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gothamsfinestdummy · 2 years

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I don’t have anything clever to say about it, but the “match scene” from Death of the Family is definitely the part I think about most. That scene was great, in my opinion. It did a wonderful job at making me feel tense and anxious about what the hell Bruce was going to do. Was he going to stand and ignite the fire (which is what he ended up doing) or would he let Joker throw back the match? I could feel Bruce’s thoughts race and the overall pressure of what was going to happen. The family’s gaze fixated on Bruce. And Joker.

I think I can safely say that the match was a test. I’m not great with words or analyzes like I used to be, so I’m not sure I can explain my thoughts around that clearly. But I think about what goes through Joker’s head. And the point. Perhaps the match was a parallel to “no matter what, you always end up with me. You love me more than you love them. You let me get them. You let me hurt them and murder them.” No matter what, the room was going to go up in flames due to Bruce standing up on his own, choosing Joker, or letting Joker hurt them again.

Ouch.

#dammit Bruce #that should be it’s own official and widely used tag #sigh. Bruce. telling Joker your identity in a state of mania came back to bite you in the ass pal #the joker #batman #batjokes #batjokes meta?#batman: death of the family #death of the family

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shummashum · 4 months

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Zeus Brundle Ch9 [11~15]

And so they looked down the lake. Deep below in the darkness, fish sparkled like stars in the nigh sky.

creak gigigig

what can I say, feels like her ignition point has been noticeably lowered compared to the previous season I like a boy and girl pair bickering with each other though… but you know, I prefer it when there are no romantic feelings involved in that kind of bickering pair

this mf he made a sudden attack hah dammit I received critical damage and got staggered

woah no wait I'm not ready for this scene yet

but somehow I feel like there might be someone's intervention here

it wasn't

oh yeah right, it was like that I was quite pissed off that I had to suck his ass…….. but just think about your first appearance who would like you if you suddenly walked over and slammed the wall I still can't forget that so plain and boring comment you dumbass

But! Other than that, I honestly liked him from the beginning! I like reckless troublemaker characters

I honestly don't know how did she come to like him they say kids become closer by fighting, I guess that's the case

When she told him how she came to like him, Zeus crossed his arms and as if taking offense to something.

? ?? ????? what how because she was the first girl to rebel against him or something like that? for real??

he's a brat…….. what should I do with him he's an elementary school kiddo…………. I wanna give him a Minecraft diamond pickaxe

huh is it possible if I really seriously consider it: I'd choose the one with better class quality I bet welfare is better in Night Class, but considering that she'll be taking classes at night and her bedtime will change continuously, Night Class might not be the best option

Back at the dormitory, Liz kept giggling like an idiot and talked to Amel about her first date.

haha she already completed that course long ago

Then there came a knock on the door, and the housemother entered their room.

the first guest followed the appropriate procedures then it might be Klaus…? I don't think Zeus or Hiro would choose such a complicated process; they would probably just jump in through the window but what's with 'they can't enter'

(and you know housemother, she's already gone out several times without your permission)

So Liz changed her clothes and made her way outside.

huh I didn't expect them to appear and their atmosphere make me shiver

When Liz asked what was going on, Al told her the news with a serious expression, mentioning it was an emergency.

brooch? I bet she kept that well in her pocket

what missing how erm… what if she thought she put it in her pocket, but it ended up falling on the floor? there are such cases I think she should go in reverse order starting from the most recent location

ouch their gaze is so harsh it hurts,,,

but was the brooch that important if it was that important, shouldn't it just be stored securely…? oh what if this situation itself was what Remb was aiming for what if he had calculated that the brooch would arrive to Luci somehow and handed it to Liz

Anyway, Cae asked Liz to follow them for now as they would explain later. why did the atmosphere suddenly reverse

-Ch9 End-

#shumma plays wh

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realhousewives-fan · 1 year

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The Memorable Moments of Season 14

This season went on like a wink, but size isn’t everything, is it?

RHOBH is definitely having one of its longest seasons ever, and I don’t know if that’s necessarily good for the show.

In a way RHOA felt like a perfect length that kept me wanting more, which surely must be what Bravo wants us to feel in a time with struggling ratings.

However, this season of RHOA reminded me of season 16 of RHOC: It’s first half was much stronger than the second half.

But RHOA was still way better, as the show had multiple memorable moments! Here is my list of the most memorable moments from season 14:

Shereé’s return to RHOA

According to rumors, Shereé Whitfield surprised the women in this scene.

She showed up to film immediately after signing her contract, without glam, makeup or a preproduced script.

And it felt so real and authentic! I really appreciate the way Shereé returned to the show.

I loved the dynamic and the energy between these women in this scene. And it made me hopeful of the future of RHOA.

Dropping it with Drew

Drew Sidora’s second season on RHOA proved to be much better than her first, but the first episodes were a hot mess!

She was getting gaslighted by her husband who was texting his assistant about getting a massage.

She was the face of a fitness program called Drop it with Drew, and the women accused it of being a Ponzi scheme! Ouch!

But her feud with Shereé was among the highlights of the season, especially their back and forth on Twitter! Drew even won the second round!

The Shady Tea Party!

The Shady Tea Party became a power struggle between Drew and Shereé as they shared a mischievous assistant who was spreading rumors about them both.

He had told Drew that Shereé never payed her bills, while he had told Shereé that Drew’s husband was gay.

As Andy Cohen himself said it, this man was bad news, and they should stop speaking to him.

But he ignited the feud between Drew and Shereé which was one of the highlights of the season, in my opinion. Especially on Twitter.

She by Herself in Philadelphia

The story that was leaked to the press long before the season aired, was how Shereé got stood up by Tyrone Gilliams in Philadelphia.

A lot of fans speculated that Tyrone’s unwillingness to film turned into a problem for Shereé, who didn’t have anything else to show for.

So, she started focusing on She by Shereé again.

I’m a Four-Time Olympic Gold Medalist! Put some respect on my name!

Words can’t describe how much I love this moment with newbie Sanya Richards-Ross! She has had some pretty good reads in her confessional, especially her question:

“How are we supposed to drop it with Drew, when she can’t drop into a squat?”

I gasped and laughed! In the first episode and she already got a memorable quote!

I was in love with her, but then she clapped back at Drew later with this beauty. I was sold!

Drunk Kenya at the Coochie Cleanse

“I am the moment, bitch!” Kenya Moore drunkenly proclaimed in this episode, and she certainly was that this season.

We got a more playful, relaxed and fun Kenya this season, and I loved it!

And I loved this episode! It reminded me of the Reasonably Shady party on RHOP, which is one of the most entertaining episodes I’ve seen in a while.

The Driveway Madness

The war between Kenya and Marlo Hampton turned it to a stand still in the driveway where they were for hours!

While it must have been tiresome to film, and despite the chaos they were in, they were able to deliver some memorable moments.

Kenya’s quote “I’m an icon, you’re an ex-con!” was dropped in the middle of their argument.

And suddenly Drew started fighting with Fatum Alford:

“I want to go gem mining. But I’m not riding in the car with this bitch.”

And then she accused her of being Shereé’s lapdog and barked at her. It was absolute madness!

Bitch, I’m Worldwide!

Their trip to Jamaica was an interesting trip. Marlo had been creating issues left and right throughout the season, and she tried to embarrass Kandi Burruss and Todd Tucker here.

Marlo claimed that Kandi was only famous in Atlanta, as if Marlo was this big name in the world. But Kandi yelled “Bitch, I’m Worldwide!”

Marlo really embarrassed herself rather than Kandi and Todd, but she was playing divide and conquer with this group.

She also seemed to separate Sanya futher from the other women on this trip.

I don’t understand Sanya’s issue with Kenya, and I suspect that Marlo was being a bug in her ear.

The search for Atlanta’s Next Top Model

In the chaos that was Shereé’s fashion show, it looked like it was going to be a complete shit show. And Kenya tried to support her when she was searching for models.

Now, Kenya didn’t get along with Shereé’s fashion show assistant and they went back and forth with snarky comments, sound effects and thick tension!

But it wasn’t lost on the viewers that Shereé’s assistant had more comebacks to Kenya than Sanya had.

In the hot mess of the sheer chaos of it all, this was comedy gold.

A fashion show with fashion!

After 14 years of tardiness and embarrassment, Shereé finally delivered a fashion show with fashion, and it was such a great season finale.

It was refreshing to see a season finale with, dear I say, good vibes only. But it was fun, it was emotional – I got ridiculously emotional watching this finale – and the perfect end to the season.

Now, Shereé’s great moment would be somewhat short-lived since her homepage and the clothes on the site were identical to other clothing lines… Oh, Shereé…

It was nice while it lasted though.

#Real Housewives of Atlanta #RHOA #RHOBH #RHOC #Shereé Whitfield #Drew Sidora #Andy Cohen #Sanya Richards-Ross #Kenya Moore #RHOP #Marlo Hampton #Fatum Alford #Kandi Burruss #Todd Tucker

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mountkennedie · 2 years

Text

Nerd

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: you watch star wars with peter

Warnings: language

Reader is an Anakin SkywalkerSaber.

i had to much fun writing this

_______________________________________

"Alright! Pick a movie," you said opening you laptop.

"Must be a classic. What're you thinking?" Peter asked.

"The same 2 we always pick are good."

"I like how you think. But what do you want?"

"I think we both want to watch the same thing. Say it on three. One, two- Empire Strikes Back!"

"Revenge of the Sith!" You both stared at one another. It was surprising how you both didn't know you were going to pick different answers. Peter had on his fleece Obi Wan pants that you got him for his birthday and you wore a Chewbacca onsie.

"Rock, paper, scissors. Best 2 out of 3." The first round you won with rock over scissors. Second round he won with paper over rock. Final round, it all came down to this.

"Rock. Paper. Scissors." You had paper and of course he picked scissors. "No! No, you cheated with your- what's it called- peter tingle!"

"Not you too. And no I didn't! You're just a sore loser!" You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you clicked on Revenge of the Sith.

Peter laid back and opened his arms waiting for you to fall into them. You did so but not before a sigh. You purposely through yourself down and he let out grunt when you both collided. "Ouch," he said and you hummed contently.

You had always been a deep lover of Anakin Skywalker so when he came on screen- you acted as such.

When your favorite Jedi came on screen you sprung up from Peter. "ANAKIN. They way I would let him do whatever he pleases to me," you said. You then felt a strange feeling on the back of your onsie before being yanked back into Peter's arms.

"Not even upset, he's not bad," you responded with a small 'mhm'," but like you're really warm and I'm not so if you don't mind," he held you tighter.

"'This is where the fun begins'," you both said simultaneously. It went on like that for a good chunk of the movie, just reciting from countless rewatchings.

When the scene on Mustufar was about to begin, you both knew what you had to do. Before swinging you over, Peter reminded you to bring your lightsaber with you. Now was the time you both had been waiting for.

"Who's who?" Peter asks.

"I'll be Obi-Wan," you said.

"I'm the one in the Kenobi pants!"

"Yes but you were to slow to picking!"

"Fine, I'd be a good Anakin though."

"Better be," you said and the scene began.

"'You turned her against me!'" Peter lipsynced.

"'You have don't that yourself!'"

"'You will not take her from me!'"

"'Your anger and your lust for power have already done that. You have allowed this dark lord to twist you mind until now, now you have become the very thing you swore to destroy.'"

"'Don't lecture me Obi-Wan. I see through the lies of the Jedi. I do not fear the darkside as you do. I have brought peace, freedom, and justice to my new empire!'" Peter lypsynced now standing in front of you, back to you face.

"'Your new empire?'"

"'Don't make me kill you!'"

"'Anakin my allegiance is to the republic! To democracy!'"

"'If your not with me, then your my enemy.'"

"'Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must,'" you ignited your saber.

Peter ignited his and you walked back to his door. His room wasn't big, so when he crouched down to do the backflip, your heart skipped a beat.

"You better no-"

"'You will try,'" he flipped. A loud BANG was heard once Peter's knee met the ceiling. He came crash back down. "Shit!" The movie kept playing but your rushed over to him.

"You okay?" You desperately wanted to tell him you were right, but that can wait.

"Yeah, but still- Jesus that hurt," he muttered holding his knee.

Aunt May came in not near right after. "What happened?" She looked at the TV and sighed. Talking to you now she said," he'll be fine, you would think one of these days he'll remember we have lower ceilings. I'll get some ice."

"Thanks May!" He said.

"This isn't your first time?!"

"Nope," May came back in with ice, they must just have it around now and days. Not surprising though, it's like Peter's always hurt.

"We can still finish the movie y'know."

"We can can't we?"

"OR we can watch Empire Strikes Back since apparently you can't be trusted with this one."

"I can be trusted!"

"You have ice one your knee!"

"A tiny mistake!"

"That keeps happening, Peter!" You both broke into laughter at this. When it died down, you dragged him up and back into his bed.

"I need to swing you home," he said already about to fall asleep.

"I'll text my mom to let me stay over, you need rest."

"I don-"

"Sh," you put a finger on his lips," don't question my tactics, patient."

He rolled his eyes and yanked your arm to pull you down onto him. The movie eventually ended but neither of you awake to see it.

May came in to check on him later on. "Hey Peter, how are you f-" she stopped when she saw you two knocked out on Peters bed," teenagers and hormones." Was all she said as she shut the door. She'd be sure to remind Peter of protection when he woke up.

#peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #avengers fluff #fluff #peter parker fluff

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.2

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2750

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly.

Steve is not entirely a stranger anymore; he knows about your troubles and you know about his. And he’s determined to sort out yours this very moment.

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, language, something that might be close to a panic attack if you squint

A/N: There we go... hopefully I’ll make mid-week a bit sweeter for some of you ;)

Part 1

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

“W-what?” you stuttered, suddenly consumed by the familiar feeling of losing the firm ground under your feet at the idea of trying to confront Gregory head-on. Not even Steve at your side was helping at all as the four of you started walking towards the IT department.

“I-I don’t have any prove! I can’t-- he told me he would--- that he would-”

“That he’d twist it around, convince the HR that you were crushing on him and he turned you down, which turned you into a soulless bitch craving revenge?” the billionaire finished for you and you just uselessly opened you mouth, unable to let out a word to deny it. It seemed to amuse him, because he scoffed; and there was something very bitter in that sound too. “Kid, he’s not the first asshole to take advantage of his superior position. I’ve seen the types. Relax. If Cap here believes you, then so do I. Plus, I know a liar when I see one. And you ain’t lying.”

You breathed in shakily, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Could it really be so easy? That couldn’t be right…

“T-thank you, Mr. Stark. I-”

“Yeah, yeah, just name your first kid after me,” Mr. Stark uttered, waving it off.

The Falcon next to you chuckled and you shot Steve a confused gaze. Was that how Mr. Stark usually was? You had never met him in person; you had only ever heard him giving a speech on TV and you knew he had a certain reputation, but this was… different.

You were surprised to find Steve watching you; perhaps he worried about your reaction to such bluntness, since he had seen your outburst in the closet. Upon meeting your gaze – probably shy and undeniably surprised – he charmed a tiny smile for you.

“It’s gonna be okay, see?”

“What are you even worried about? You have three Avengers coming with you!” Mr. Wilson questioned lightly and you bit your lower lip as you thought of the source of anxiety indeed.

Yeah, I have three Avengers and they are all men. Sue me for not being sure which side they would take – not until now.

“You’re not a full-time Avenger, Wilson.”

Falcon gasped, clutching at his chest theatrically at Stark’s remark. “Ouch, Tony. My heart.”

You let out a breathy laugh at their banter and felt yourself relax despite your better judgement. You almost let yourself believe it truly would go alright. Well, as much as dealing with such shitty thing could.

“You’re all my heroes,” you whispered timidly, which earned you a bright smile from Sam Wilson.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Cruel, Birdboy. You stole the old man’s line,” Mr. Stark hummed, amused.

“Heh! Sorry, Cap. But I’m sure you have a whole set of other lines to use on her.”

You choked on your own spit as Steve faltered in his steps, his grip on you growing stronger. What the hell did the Falcon just say?

“Oh my God, Wilson, shut up before we get stuck with another harassment report.”

“I don’t think this a subject for joking,” Steve interjected, slightly irritated, and you shot him a grateful look, because he definitely had a point.

Except… once you weren’t in such a sticky situation, you totally wouldn’t mind Steve Rogers using a line on you. Not at all. And his hand around yours felt nice for multiple reasons, the wordless comfort and support only being one of them. It was warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of his physical work, and it was bigger than yours, so sweetly and distractingly enveloping yours…

But now it was so not the time.

Your peculiar group approached the office and you didn’t even have the time to brace yourself as Tony Stark simply threw the door open, not bothering to knock.

“Thomas Ian Gregory, you are fired this very second,” the billionaire exclaimed dramatically.

You would think he was just being a drama queen, except he sounded deadly serious, using your boss’ full name which he must have read out on the door, and his eyes were throwing daggers at the man sitting behind the desk, looking as if he was the fucking king of the world.

Your boss blinked in surprise and eyed all four of you; Falcon with his arms crossed on his chest, Ironman minus his suit with a murderous glare and a hand raised towards him as if he wanted to point a finger and then Gregory’s gaze fell on your hand connected with Steve’s; you wanted to retrieve it quickly, but Steve wouldn’t let you, his grip growing firm. Anger flashed through your boss’ eyes for a second, before he composed himself and rose from his chair with an innocently confused expression.

You wanted to puke and you felt your legs turning into a shaking mess of jello. This was it. Now he would use his slimy words to turn this situation around and you were about to get fired and humiliated so much that jumping under a bus would be the most likeable option for you.

“Mr. Stark, it’s an honour. Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson. What do I owe the pleasure?”

You couldn’t believe this--- this pig. Seriously. Who the fuck did he think he was?! How could he--- just lie so easily, pretending that everything was perfectly fine?!

But Tony Stark was not fooled by the charade and you mentally sighed in relief, sure they must have heard the weight falling off of your shoulders even in Jersey.

“I’m sure you heard me, Mr. Gregory. You quit and you’ll be hearing from the HR soon. And you’ll be damn lucky if this young lady right here won’t sue you.”

You honestly wished you were invisible when Gregory’s gaze flickered to you, subtle anger with a promise of consequences in his irises – consequences that would come should you not cut this bullshit right now.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Stark. If this is about the unfortunate feelings my assistant has for me-”

Tears of rage and baseless shame stung in your eyes at his words and you breathed in sharply to defend yourself; before you could, Gregory continued.

“Though I can see they weren’t very… honest. Obviously my inferior seems to be the ‘love them and leave them’ type, which I should warn you about, Capta-”

Breathless at his malicious made-out theories, you did not expect Steve to drop your hand in favour to tower over your boss, making him shut up with one single glare.

Alright, you could see why he had thought that simply appearing at your office would make Gregory tremble in fear. Your boss actually backed off and learnt onto a table, looking as if he was supporting himself under the weight of Steve’s judgement.

“I met this woman for the first time not half an hour ago, hiding from you, too scared of your dirty hands to return to her own workplace. Trust me, it left an impression, just like you are leaving one now,” Steve grunted menacingly, causing your heart to pound in your chest in fright even with his words not aimed on you. “If I can give an advice, you pack your things as fast as you can, apologize to her profusely, begging for her forgiveness and you don’t set a foot in this building or speak to her ever again. Do we have an understanding?”

You weren’t the only one affected. Your boss tried to reciprocate Captain America’s glare, but he failed miserably. He visibly gulped and circled his desk, still watching the soldier as if he was expecting to get hit; then his eyes just dropped to his desk and he frantically started picking random things from it.

You watched the scene in front of you, paralyzed. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, pulsing in your temples, your breathing alternating between hitching and picking up. Your vision started to swim.

Holy. Shit.

“Cap, I think you broke her.”

Steve spun to you at instant, his eyes roaming your face; or you thought so. He looked worried now; or you thought so. Thinking and frankly evaluating the stimuli your senses were receiving was a bit difficult at the moment.

What the hell had just happened?

Gentle hands took yours, leading you out of the room. You blindly followed, unsure how to put one foot in front of the other, your body running on autopilot.

It was over. Thomas Gregory was no longer your boss and it had happened without you losing your job. And Steve Rogers had scolded him as if he was a five-year old kid – a very pervert one, but a kid nonetheless. Steve put a fucking fear of God into him. All of that happening within three minutes. And you just… couldn’t quite process all that.

You barely registered getting into and out of an elevator, being seated on a couch, having a blanket tossed over your shoulders and a cup of warm liquid pressed into your hands. You automatically brought it to your lips, only to be stopped by a tender fingers curling around your wrist.

“Careful. It might be too hot,” a pleasant voice warned you and you blinked, finally focusing your gaze, finding rather worried and very handsome face staring back.

You glanced at the cup, surprised to identify the drink as Steve’s hand let go of yours.

“Is that… is that hot chocolate?” you stuttered, bewildered. Well, more like… astonished.

“Yeah. You’re not allergic to milk or anything, are you?”

You looked up back to Steve’s face, only to find him with his brows furrowed in concern, lips thoughtfully pursed. It snapped you to action.

“No! No. It’s just… I didn’t have one in years. Thank— thank you.”

His expression cleared, as he was evidently pleased with himself. “Good. You’re welcome.”

The words fell off his lips so easily. As if he just hadn’t… hadn’t saved your career. Or your mental health, really.

You eyed the table by the couch, setting the cup down, only to fully turn to him. He seemed a bit confused at that; but God, you had something important to say and since you didn’t want to give up the blanket just yet, you decided to get rid of the mug at least to look less pathetic.

“No, Steve, I… thank you,” you whispered sincerely, feeling tears in your eyes for like a millionth time that day. His smile widened a little.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I… if I scared you down there. It wasn’t meant for you.”

“You didn’t-” you blurted out in attempt to deny it and make him feel better, only to waver as his eyebrow rose, picture perfect of doubt. It made you chuckle at yourself self-deprecatingly. “It’s not your fault that I was… surprised by your little hulk-out. I guess I just didn’t see it coming.”

“Hulk-out, huh? How do you feel?”

You shrugged, exhaling slowly, thinking hard about your answer.

“Like I just watched my life take a way better turn that I would expect... and I’m still only watching,” you whispered honestly, which led to his face twisting in a grimace.

“Anything I can do?”

You couldn’t help it; you scanned your surroundings, realizing you were in something that looked fancy enough to belong to Tony Stark and was way too big to be part of an actual apartment. You ran your hand down the blanket covering your shoulders, reaching for the abandoned cup to blow on it softly and take a careful sip of chocolate. Steve’s questioning gaze observed you while you did so and you smiled blissfully into the cup as the delicious rich taste caressed your tongue.

“You mean besides comforting me despite being a complete stranger, getting my harassing boss fired and scaring the hell out of him, taking me to--- here, giving me a blanket and making the best cup of hot chocolate I had in years? Give me a second, I’m sure I’ll figure out something else,” you babbled and Steve’s smile grew, tense shoulders relaxing. “Seriously, Steve. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I owe you. I- I know you’re a hero and all that, but… yeah. I should be asking you what I could do for you in return.”

“That’s not-- I’m not--- ...you make a pleasant company,” he said in the end as if he realized he couldn't deny any of the things you had listed. You lowered your gaze to the chocolate as his eyes twinkled at the statement.

“Ditto.”

“Does that-” he blurted out and you tilted your head to side, watching him curiously when he stopped talking just as abruptly. “This is a terrible timing, but that’s apparently an infamous quality of mine, because usually I wait too long, and… uhm…”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suddenly embarrassed soldier scratching the back of his neck, peeking at your through his eyelashes. Was that--- was he trying to-? No, it couldn’t be.

“Yeah?” you softly encouraged him to continue.

He wetted his lips, causing your previously tight gut to warm up.

“I understand that it’s the last thing you’re thinking about right now, but… when you settle down again... and things are a bit calmer for you… would you- uhm, like to… maybe spend some more time with--- with me?”

If he had blurted the sentence in one go, you would have dropped your mug in surprise despite suspecting this incredible thing when he had turned bashful. But he didn’t so your brain had enough time to process the words slowly leaving his lips, one after another, little shy, little hopeful. Your heart was speeding up with each of them, ready to burst when he finished with a tiny nervous smile.

Well. How could you possibly say no to that irresistible creature in front of you? You smiled into your drink.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

You wanted to chuckle at the pure surprise on his face, but it was just too endearing and so you had to fight the urge to make an embarrassing sound like an aww instead.

“Yeah, Steve. I’d really like that,” you repeated, hiding the teasing note in your voice. “But you’ve got to teach me how to make a chocolate that good, because seriously, it tastes amazing.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” you demanded, a bit hurt, rather surprised. “I don’t want you to give up your secret recipe right away! Just… in time.”

He grinned at you boyishly, leaning a bit closer to you. You held your breath in anticipating, a the change. “I could. But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the process of preparing it for you and your smile in return.”

You stared at him for few moments, taking the statement in, wondering if he was teasing you or was being serious. The corners of his lips were quirked up as if he was indeed joking, but there was a certain spark of honesty in his eyes.

You decided to play along, whether it was a game or not. Perhaps it was the relief of newly found freedom from a sleazy man in your life that plucked up your courage and woke up your jovial side.

“Aww, Steve, that’s so sweet. Is that your way of telling me you’re planning on spoiling me? Because then I would need significantly less time to… settle down.”

His grin widened at your words. “Is that so?”

“Mm.”

“Well then…” he brought up lowly, torturing you with anticipation when he didn’t continue, only to watch you with a mischievous smile.

“...then?”

“What are your plans for Friday evening?”

Oh, you were so glad you were sitting, because otherwise the force of the moment in which Steve Rogers asked you out on Friday night would knock you down.

You tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t sound like an over-enthusiastic YES, but his blue eyes staring into yours made it very difficult for you.

Dammit, it was harder to talk to him when you could actually see--- you smiled smugly at the idea that popped up in your head and raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“I’m hiding in a supply closet. Why, you wanna join me?”

Steve burst out laughing, throwing his head back with that sound and the picture armed your heart so thoroughly it was unfair.

“Sure thing. Would you like me to bring muffins and coffee or do you prefer an actual dinner?”

You found yourself laughing too and you suddenly believed that your life would indeed get better. It already had, after all.

S.R. masterlist

Beautiful divider by @whimsicalrogers

Thank you for the kind feedback on the first part and I hope you liked this one too :))

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #mcu #marvel #in the strangest place we just might find love #anika ann

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angellesword · 3 years

Text

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (07)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: homophobia (Tae’s family is insisting he can’t be gay)

SERIES: CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER’S OST: Fix You covered by BTS

When you try your best, but you don't succeed

You closed your eyes the moment you heard the first line of the song.

When you get what you want but not what you need

Your heart was thumping, unable to bottle up the emotions that had been eating you for months now.

One year and seven months, to be exact.

You left Seoul, your hometown, nineteen months ago.

"Why can't we just eat at home?" Taehyung groaned, clearly not happy with how things were going right now.

You shrugged because you also didn't know why Yoongi and Jimin decided to have dinner at Per Se, a fine dining restaurant, tonight.

Did they forget that you and your brother were broke? The both of you couldn't live life like you once did in Korea.

Life in the city that never sleeps was different. You still had a job, but you were no longer an architect, deciding that it was best to pursue graphic designing instead.

You worked from eight to five pm in an office now. Gone were the days you visited construction sites. What you created at your current job were images, logos and even diagrams.

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep

You loved your job, unfortunately your compensation was not enough to keep you going, making you feel like you were:

Stuck in reverse

Your salary was barely enough to cover your rent and utilities expenses. Jimin, your roommate, knew this so he lent you his car, the same car Taehyung was driving at this moment.

You didn't want to borrow your roommate's car at first, but Jimin insisted, saying that he had a new car and that he didn't know what to do with the old one.

Jimin didn't want to sell it. He was a very sentimental person and the car was actually a gift from his parents.

So he let you use it. You were special to Jimin. He wouldn't mind that you and your brother were using something that he loved.

"Fuck it. I'm going home," Taehyung announced, suddenly turning right.

Your eyes widened, ready to scold him.

But you didn't. Now when—

And the tears come streaming down your face

—he was crying.

You gasped, but you quickly pursed your lips into a thin line. You also looked outside the window of the car, refusing to look at your brother.

You didn't want him to feel like you were prying or that you felt bad for him. No. Taehyung didn't appreciate empathy. For him, it was just the kinder version of pity.

He didn't need you or anyone to feel bad for him as it would only make him feel like his decision was wrong.

When you lose something, you can't replace

When Taehyung moved back here in New York, he lost something that he could never replace: his family in Seoul.

You remembered why your brother lost contact with the Kims. It happened almost two years ago.

"I'll just change," was your excuse so that you could get out of the dining area and also because you knew Jungkook would follow you.

You had to talk to him.

You had to remind him again not to tell anyone in your family that you and him were dating.

You thought it would only be for the meantime; however, you changed your mind after your father explained why he wanted Soojin and Jungkook to get married.

It was for Castle, the company your mother, Taemin, and Jong-in all built together.

How could you let the empire fall?

Apart from this, you saw how Soojin looked at your boyfriend. She loved him. Maybe more than you could ever love Jungkook.

When you love someone, but it goes to waste

You didn't want Jungkook's love to go to waste. You didn't deserve him. He deserved Soojin, someone who could love him dearly.

"Jungkook, as we are saying—" Sin-ae tried to open the conversation again the moment you disappeared from the scene.

Your best friend cut Sin-ae off though. You were right. Jungkook was going to follow you.

"W-Wait! Jungkook! Where are you going?" Sin-ae panicked, getting up so she could follow Jungkook.

Sin-ae could tell that this situation was starting to upset her daughter. Soojin was gritting her teeth, tears filled her eyes.

"Mom. Let Jungkook be." Taehyung said, stopping Sin-ae from running after your best friend. He just knew Jungkook's going to go to you. You and him clearly needed some time alone.

"No. I still have something to say to that boy!"

"It can wait." Taehyung clenched his fist. "I have something to say to you too. It can't wait."

"What is it?"

Taehyung had the undivided attention of his mother now. Admittedly, every member of his family was focused on him, waiting.

Taehyung gulped.

It was now or never.

"I'm gay."

Could it be worse?

Was telling his family about his sexual orientation the worst thing that could happen tonight?

Maybe.

It was the worst because he didn't think this through. It just happened. It was the only way he could think of to stop them from meddling with your relationship with Jungkook.

"You're what?" Taemin's jaw ticked, eyes turning dark as he turned to his third born son.

Lights will guide you home

Taehyung's heart skipped a beat. He was nervous but he didn't regret anything. He was certain that the truth would guide him towards light.

And ignite your bones

He would be free after this night.

"Taehyung..." Sin-ae held onto the head of the chair, grasping for support. She felt like she was going to faint.

This night was stressing her out so much.

"A-Are you sure? I-I..." Sin-ae swallowed hard. She was shaking. Soojin caressed her mother's hand.

"What if you're just confused? Have you dated women before—"

"Yes. I dated seven women. All didn't work out."

"B-But..." Sin-ae tried speaking again, however she trailed off.

Taehyung shrugged upon seeing her mother's expression. He continued eating his food as if nothing happened.

"Sorry it came out of blue. I didn't want to shock you, but seeing how this dinner turned out, I didn't really have a choice but to tell you."

"What do you mean by that?" Namjoon creased his forehead, he obviously didn't like what his younger brother was implying.

"Well, it seems to me that you all know about the engagement party, but you still didn't budge even when it's clear that Jungkook doesn't want to marry Soojin."

Taehyung shrugged before speaking again.

"I don't want to go through the same thing, I guess? I don't want you all to suddenly force me to marry some rich girl. But! If it's a rich guy, I might just agree—"

"Kim Taehyung!" Taemin's voice was like a thunder when he cut off what his third born son was saying.

And I will try to fix you

"Stop your nonsense right now!" Taemin shouted, as if it was going to fix something, as if shouting would suddenly change Taehyung's preference.

"Ouch, dad!" Taehyung pouted, clutching his chest. "Don't be mean. This is not nonsense. This is me telling you the truth about myself..."

The third born son was trying to joke around, thinking that it would at least calm his family.

"I like boys, dad. I let them do me—"

Taemin abruptly stood up. He was holding a table knife, ready to attack Taehyung.

"I said shut up!"

"Yeobo!" Sin-ae hugged her husband.

Seokjin and Namjoon stepped up too, protecting their brother.

"Father, you are overreacting." Seokjin said, hiding Taehyung behind him.

"My son tells me he's a faggot and you're telling me to calm down, huh, Kim Seokjin!?"

"There is nothing wrong with being gay, father. What's wrong is harming people just because of their sexuality." Namjoon said this, touching the hinge of his eyeglasses to stop it from slipping down his nose.

Taehyung's brothers never defied their father, but they would never stand still if Taemin did something to hurt any member of their family, except you. Seokjin and Namjoon didn't care about you.

"It's okay, hyung. You don't have to defend me." Taehyung smiled at his brothers before switching his gaze at Taemin.

"Tell me, father. If I don't 'stop this ‘nonsense,' what would you do to me?"

"I will disown you." Taemin snarled, pushing Sin-ae away from him. "You won't receive anything from me."

"Ah, you will disinherit me. I see..." Taehyung smiled, though his heart was breaking apart. "Okay, then. I will make things easier for you."

"Yah! Kim Taehyung, what are you talking about?" Soojin glared at her brother. She wanted to slap him. He was being stubborn!

"Well, father can't disinherit me, his legitimate heir, just because he wants to. But like what I've said, I'm gonna make it easy for him." Taehyung slightly raised his shoulders. "I'm disclaiming my inheritance. I'd rather be broke than have a homophobic father."

Taemin was about to attack Taehyung, but Sin-ae hugged him once more.

The corner of Taehyung's mouth quirked up as he placed his car keys and card on the table, a proof that he would not take anything from his father anymore.

"Don't worry. I will also pay back everything you spent on me since I was a child." Taehyung bowed down. "Thank you for everything. Goodbye."

And high up above or down below

You blinked back to reality after remembering the reason why Taehyung left his family. The way he told you that story made you feel like you were there when it happened.

But you weren't.

You were busy breaking your own heart.

When you're too in love to let it go

You went straight out of the mansion after mumbling an excuse to your family.

"Hey..." Jungkook followed you, grabbing your wrist.

"I told you not to tell them." You twisted your hand, a not so subtle way of asking him to let you go. His palm was hot, but it was causing you to shiver. You didn't want to be touched by him.

"I didn't—"

"You almost did." You snarled, becoming more frustrated as time passed. "You broke your promise to me."

"Tiger..." Jungkook called softly, trying to hold your hand again.

You walked away, as if you were too scared to stand closer to him. You were. You didn't trust yourself when you were around him. It was like you wanted to just bury your face in his neck. You knew Jungkook felt that way too, but he shouldn't. You shouldn't.

You were in the territory of the Kims. All of them wanted Jungkook to marry Soojin. They would most likely scowl if they saw you being intimate with your 'best friend.'

"I'm sorry..." He said, still following you.

You were headed to the garden of the mansion. No one really went here at night. There were just too many mosquitoes here.

"I won't break my promise again." He said softly. Jungkook was trying to catch your gaze.

You avoided it.

You couldn't look at him as you said "of course it won't happen again. You can't say something that isn't true anymore."

"What do you mean?"

But if you never try, you'll never know

"I'm breaking up with you, Jungkook."

"What?" He was breathless. Your cruel words knocked out the air out of him.

"You heard me." You said simply, still avoiding his gaze. Do not look at him or you'd break, you reminded yourself.

"Y-You're kidding, right?" And he still couldn't believe what was happening.

No. This couldn't be true. He just had you. He was just starting to show you how much he loved you. Why were you pushing him away again?

This wasn't fair.

"You're engaged, Jungkook. To my sister." You gritted your teeth, looking down at your feet. You could see a mosquito sucking your blood there. It hurt.

"You know I don't joke around when my sister's happiness is at stake—"

"What about your happiness?" Jungkook cut you off. And mine?

"I'm happy when Soojin is happy, when my family is happy."

"What about me?" His voice was so small when he asked this, like he was ashamed and hurt. "Am I not your family too?"

Your stomach churned. Your tears fell, you saw your teardrop hitting the mosquito sucking at your foot.

Your foot hurt. Your foot itches.

You were focusing on the wrong things. You complained about the wrong things.

Your heart hurt. But you didn't care.

Your foot. It itched.

Just what you're worth

"You are." You blurted out after a few moments of silence. Would it feel good to scratch your foot?

"That's why I'm ending this. I don't want to hurt you any further..."

You're not hurting me Jungkook was about to say this. You didn't give him a chance to speak though.

"I can't love you, Kook..."

Lights will guide you home

They said lights would guide someone home. Lights helped people see. It helped them so that they wouldn't stumble in the darkness, into something they couldn't possibly fight.

For the longest time, Jungkook believed this. He thought you were his light, guiding him—leading him towards home.

Home was supposed to be safe and it should bring comfort—this was what Jungkook longed. A home.

And ignite your bones

A home full of love, laughter—just things that would ignite his bones, that would make him thank the Maker for giving him life.

"Why not?" Jungkook managed to ask even though he was breaking inside.

All he could think about was your cruel words.

I can't love you, Kook...

It meant he was hard to love, right? He was hard to love despite the fact that he was trying his best. He was good. So good—too good, but it wasn't enough.

There was no home to come to.

Your foot still itches.

"Because I'm broken." You were stupid to think that you could fill his heart with love.

Love didn't work like that.

Jungkook shook his head violently. He knew you didn't want him to touch you, but he did.

He couldn't stop himself.

He took your face into his hands, feeling your skin. He was touching you like he was making sure you were real.

"And you can't love someone when you're broken."

His response was instant.

"Then let me try to fix you." He said this as if it was easy.

You cackled. This was better than sobbing.

"Too bad..." You finally had the courage to meet his gaze. You looked at him dead in the eyes, saying this: "Because I don't want to be fixed."

Jungkook was right.

You were his light.

You were his light, but you weren't going to guide him home.

You were the light that was going to blind him.

"Goodbye, Jungkook." You smiled.

And then you walked away.

This time Jungkook didn't follow you, but aside from this nothing else changed—well except that you weren't looking down anymore.

You looked up, remembering that when you kissed Jungkook for the first time, the moon and the stars were there to witness it.

The moon and the stars were still here.

This time they witnessed how you broke Jungkook's heart.

Damn. Your foot still itches.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #armywriterssupport #jungkook x you #bts fic

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firemedicdiaz · 3 years

Text

When Everything is Gone (I’ll Be What You Want)

Fandom: 9-1-1. Prompt: missing scene for @buddiebingo. Pairing: None - mentions of Eddie x Ana, lots of mutual pining, Buddie feelings realization. Word Count: 2800. Genre: fluff. Rating: teen+. Summary: In the wake of the shooting, Eddie and Buck grapple with some big feelings, though it appears that they're the only two who can't make out just what those feelings mean. Note: Beta’d by @dearestdiaz and @fireladybuckley - thank you both for your tireless cheerleading, encouragement, and suggestions. Without the two of you, this fic never would have seen the light of day. Title from “Astronauts” by Rachel Platten. Gif by @fireladybuckley.

Read it on AO3.

Buck drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel in his Jeep as he sat outside Eddie’s house, glancing at his watch every few seconds as if keeping constant tabs on the time would help it go by faster. It was early and he didn’t want to intrude in case Eddie was still sleeping, especially since Pepa had taken Christopher with her after the previous evening’s festivities so that Eddie could have a little bit of time to recuperate without having to ready the boy for school. Buck knew Eddie was an early riser by nature, but he was also acutely aware of how enticing sleep was on high doses of painkillers and the last thing he wanted was to bother Eddie too early.

He needed to see him, though. He had lingered close to Eddie the night before, hugging the other man for just a beat longer than the others had. He’d needed the reassurance that Eddie wasn’t just alive, but that he was okay. Buck had been there when Eddie had been discharged, he knew that Eddie’s shoulder would mend, he would regain his range of motion, but no one had said anything about the trauma. Buck had only witnessed the shooting and he could barely close his eyes without being catapulted into a panic attack. He couldn’t begin to imagine how Eddie wasn’t more perturbed, and by staying close Buck hoped he could be there to support him if - when - he broke down.

Unable to wait any longer, Buck pulled his keys from the ignition and hopped out of the Jeep, jogging up the sidewalk to Eddie’s front door. He raised his hand to ring the doorbell, but stopped just shy of making contact. Still not wanting to wake Eddie, Buck changed his mind and reached for his keys instead, easily locating the one for Eddie’s front door. He slid it into the lock and turned it slowly as though even the quiet click of the bolt sliding open might wake the other man.

Stepping into the house, Buck craned his neck and listened for any noise. He couldn’t hear any snoring, but that didn’t mean Eddie wasn’t asleep. Creeping in further, he closed the door in his wake and slowly walked through the house, making his way through the living room and toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

“Ouch!”

Buck frowned as Eddie’s pained cry reached his ears. He paused at the end of the hallway, slipping the keys in his hand into his pocket as he strained to listen more closely. He could see shadows being thrown from inside the bathroom and he realized belatedly that Eddie wasn’t alone. Cursing himself for not calling ahead, Buck hovered, unsure of what to do.

“I’m sorry, I’m terrible at this.”

He was surprised to hear Ana’s voice, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been. She’d been at Eddie’s side throughout most of his hospitalization, and there was no reason for her to step back now that he was home. Still, Buck’s heart sank a little at the thought that he wouldn’t get Eddie all to himself for a while like he’d hoped.

“Here, maybe I can get this off and then all you have to do is stick the new one on.”

Buck debated just leaving, giving Eddie and Ana some space, but something about the conversation he’d dropped in on piqued his curiosity and he forged ahead. The floor creaked beneath him as he walked, and he knew they’d heard him when they suddenly fell quiet.

“It’s just me,” Buck announced as he stepped around the corner, pausing in the door frame. He took in the sight before him; Eddie was seated on the toilet, his shirt off, the dressing over his wound pulled back at one corner but otherwise intact. Ana, clad in an oversized pair of nitrile gloves, hovered nervously in front of him, various dressing supplies laid out on the counter at her side. Her glove was stuck to the small bit of exposed adhesive on the dressing, and it was obvious she was having trouble working at it with the excess of nitrile between her hands and the bandage. It was clear, too, that she was concerned with hurting Eddie if the apologetic crease to her brow was any indication. Buck smiled at the scene.

“Hey, man,” Eddie said with a grin. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.”

Buck chuckled. “Ah, but you were expecting me.”

Eddie rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Buck waved a hand over his shoulder, gesturing vaguely to the rest of the house.

“I can wait in the kitchen while you two finish up,” he offered. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

Ana shook her head, reaching up to pull off her gloves.

“No, please, stay,” she insisted. “I’m terrible at this anyway - I’m sure you could do a much better job.”

Buck smiled, ducking his head a little, catching the amusement in Eddie’s eyes at her statement. He met the other man’s gaze.

“Only if it’s okay with you.”

Eddie grinned.

“There’s no one else I’d trust more,” he murmured.

Ana clasped her hands together with a smile.

“That settles it, then; I’ll step aside and let a professional handle this.”

Her words drew laughter from both men and Ana took that as a cue to step down. Buck moved back, giving her room to pass in the doorway, and filled the gap she’d left behind as soon as she was gone. It was so easy, so natural to pick up where she’d left off.

Without missing a beat, Buck pulled on a pair of gloves. He glanced down at Eddie’s chest where the bandage Ana had only just begun to pull off was curled back at the very corner, the adhesive catching on the chain of Eddie’s St. Christopher medal where it hung around his neck. He regarded the image on it for a moment, his eyes tracing the outline of the saint and the child on his shoulders, the lines and grooves in the medal blackened and tarnished with age, standing out in stark contrast to the silver relief. Buck’s first instinct was to take it off, to set it away to have it polished later, but he thought better of it as the memory of Eddie’s chest in the wake of the gunshot - bloody and barren of the medallion when Buck had torn his uniform open - flashed in the forefront of his mind. With the image came the impression of the coppery scent of Eddie’s blood on his hands, the warmth of it in stark contrast to how cool Eddie’s skin had been. Echoes of Eddie’s pulse, quick and weak against his fingers but nowhere near as fast as his own - driven to its limits by adrenaline - pounded in his head. The recollection of the way the fire truck had lurched beneath them, nearly dislodging the hand Buck had been using to apply pressure to Eddie’s wound more than once, reverberated through his body and made his hands shake just the littlest bit.

Dispelling the memories, Buck settled for reaching up with a gentle hand and pushing it out of the way instead, not wanting to tempt fate. He pulled the medallion around to the back of Eddie’s neck, letting it drop and pull the chain away from the wound under its weight, leaving him a clearer field to work with.

“This might hurt a little,” Buck murmured softly, glancing briefly up at Eddie as he reached for the bandage.

Eddie chuckled softly.

“Do your worst.”

Buck rolled his eyes good-naturedly and grasped the corner of the bandage, carefully peeling up enough of it to hold onto. He held his fingertips to Eddie’s skin, applying a bit of pressure to offset the stinging of the adhesive being pulled away from where it had been stuck for nearly a day since Eddie’s last dressing change at the hospital. It held fast, but eventually started coming away. Buck flashed Eddie an apologetic glance, but to Eddie’s credit he didn’t so much as flinch.

It took a minute, but eventually Buck was able to remove the entirety of the dressing without disturbing Eddie’s skin too much. He gently smoothed his fingertips over the redness that remained in the wake of the bandage and reached for a few pieces of gauze. Wetting them with a bit of water and a gentle soap, Buck carefully washed around the wound, his eyes flicking up to Eddie’s face every few seconds to make sure he wasn’t causing the other man any unnecessary discomfort. Eddie smiled through it all, though, sitting perfectly still.

Far more still than he had for her, anyway, Ana thought.

She watched the two of them from the hallway, standing in the shadows outside the sliver of light that spilled out from the bathroom. The way Buck touched Eddie was so easy, so familiar. The way Eddie didn’t shy away from the contact spoke volumes on the level of trust they shared. The soft smiles they shared were intimate, private in a way that she knew they had both already put her presence out of their minds. Not intentionally, she knew - neither man had an unkind bone in their body - but because their focus had been so consumed with one another in the wake of their shared trauma that there was no room for anyone else. It made her heart ache a little to see what she’d wanted so badly for herself with Eddie playing out in front of her with Buck instead, but she understood. She knew that the heart wanted what it wanted, even if the head wasn’t always on board at the start. It was obvious, watching them, and she smiled a little sadly as she slipped away quietly, leaving the two of them to work through their feelings without an audience.

Buck switched the wet gauze in his hand out for a clean and dry wad and pressed it to Eddie’s chest below his wound. WIth his free hand, he carefully poured saline over the sutured skin, washing away some of the debris that had crusted over it, catching the drips with the gauze pad. He worked slowly to cause as little discomfort as he could, and eventually he got the wound clean. He inspected it closely for signs of infection before pulling back a moment to let Eddie’s skin dry.

“How’s it look?” Eddie asked, pulling his head back and glancing down in an attempt to get a peek at the wound.

Buck glanced up to meet his eyes, smiling.

“It’s healing well,” he acknowledged, his expression softening a little into apology as he continued. “Gonna leave a scar, though.”

Eddie nodded with a hollow chuckle.

“It’ll match the other one.”

Buck’s gaze flicked to Eddie’s other shoulder, taking in the puckered, darkened skin left behind in the wake of Eddie’s first gunshot wound. The edges of Eddie’s recent wound were already beginning to fade into the same tone as the older scar and Buck had to stop himself from reaching out to touch the imperfectly healed skin on Eddie’s left shoulder in reassurance. He settled on speaking instead to dispel the pull he felt toward the tender gesture.

"Scars tell stories.”

He picked up a tube of antibiotic ointment, squeezing a bit out onto a clean gauze square before carefully dabbing it onto Eddie’s wound.

“Scars raise questions,” Eddie corrected. “I’ll be the one having to tell the stories, and I’m not sure I want to.”

Buck hummed, setting the used gauze aside and carefully positioning a clean square over Eddie’s wound. He tacked it into place, using the ointment beneath to keep the gauze steady as he cut a fresh strip of adhesive with which to secure it on.

Eddie was an intensely private person, Buck knew, and it suddenly struck him how uncharacteristic it was of him to even be having such a discussion. For Eddie to be letting Buck take care of him in such a vulnerable state. The simple act of changing the dressing suddenly had a lot more gravity to it, and Buck’s touch was even lighter, more gentle as he smoothed the bandage into place over the gauze, finishing the procedure.

“And that’s it,” Buck murmured as he sat back, stripping off his gloves. “How’s it feel?”

Eddie slowly, carefully, experimentally shrugged his shoulder a little. The dressing pulled taut a bit and wrinkled when he rolled the joint forward, but otherwise stayed firmly in place. He winced at the movement but smiled as he settled again, giving Buck a thumbs up.

“Feels good. Thanks, man.”

Buck dipped his head, smiling and feeling his cheeks flush a little. There was something unmistakably intimate about the moment and it took Buck a second to shake it off. Glancing up, he watched Eddie reach for his shirt and noticed something he’d forgotten.

“Hold on,” Buck interjected.

Eddie stilled, watching Buck as the other man reached for him once more. Buck’s fingertips brushed the base of his throat, gently tugging at the chain that held his St. Christopher medal. The pendant shifted with the chain, tumbling over Eddie’s shoulder and landing against his chest over his heart, right where it belonged. Buck straightened it, facing it forward, his fingertips lingering for a moment as he ruminated on its significance.

Eventually, Buck pulled away and gave Eddie a hand with his shirt, his mind still reeling from the unchecked thoughts and feelings swirling there. He’d never considered his feelings about the shooting, about Eddie as anything noteworthy before, but somehow, in the cramped quietude of Eddie’s master bathroom, he’d begun to see things in a different light. Somehow, he’d gained some perspective.

“How about a coffee for your troubles?” Eddie’s voice broke through his reflection.

Buck laughed with a nod, busying himself with putting away the unused supplies for the next dressing change. Eddie brushed past him on his way out of the bathroom, leaving Buck to fathom in silence for a moment longer before he, too, made his way out and toward the kitchen in Eddie’s wake.

The remainder of the morning passed as they always did, in companionable silence over breakfast, broken occasionally by teasing banter and the clink of silverware against ceramic. All too quickly, Buck had to take his leave, but not before checking to make sure Eddie would be alright on his own. It hurt him a little bit to leave the other man so soon after they’d regained some semblance of normalcy, but the world wasn’t about to stop turning so that he could probe a little further into whatever feelings he’d only just begun to uncover.

Eddie watched Buck go, smiling to himself as he shut the door only after Buck’s Jeep had disappeared from view down the street. He reached into his pocket, slipping his phone free and firing off a text to Ana. He’d realized at some point that she’d disappeared, and he was surprised - though not overly bothered - to find that he hadn’t missed her. What he was surprised about, though, was the fact that she didn’t seem to have been missing him, either, when a message back appeared on his screen a moment later.

I think there’s someone else you ought to be asking out to dinner tonight, Edmundo.

Three dots bounced at the bottom of the display as Ana’s words sank in and a second message popped up before he could write anything back.

Go get your man before someone else does.

Eddie blinked at the screen, his mind stuck somewhere between I’m sorry and what are you talking about? His thumb hovered over the keyboard as he debated on a response, but he couldn’t settle on either. Eventually, he found the right words after all.

I think I will. Thank you.

Simple, concise, and enough to earn him a smile and a thumbs up emoji. Chuckling softly, Eddie closed Ana’s chat window, pulling up Buck’s instead. He had no idea how he was going to do it, to confess everything that had been building up inside of him for longer than he cared to admit, but he supposed he might as well start as he always did and see where things went from there.

I 'm thinking pizza for dinner tonight, you in?

Three dots again, and then -

Like you even have to ask. I’ll bring dessert.

Eddie chuckled as he set his phone on the counter. Whatever else changed in his life, whatever happened to him, some things would never change. Buck would never change. It was that constancy that Eddie was banking on as he sat down to drink the last of his coffee and to consider what, exactly, he was going to say later on that night.

#9-1-1 #fanfiction #Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #Buddie #mutual pining #feelings realization #post-4x14 #brief mentions of Ana Flores #Buddie Bingo

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imlostinsantacarla · 4 years

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@namjooniewifeu99: Thank you , i would like a Jacob x reader where he like you head over heels with Bella but he imprints on the reader and he tries to deny his imprint , or something in those works can it be angst with a fluff ending

(a/n: heya hun! i apologize for this taking hundreds of years for me to get around to and finally post. i hope you enjoy what i have come up with, please let me know what you think! thanks so much for requesting and supporting my blog. enjoy! - admin kat 🌙❣)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Title: You’re Not Good With Weird and I’m Not Good With Fate (Jacob Black x Reader)

Summary: Being best friend’s with a teenage shapeshifter hasn’t been the easiest thing for y/n to have adjusted to, but they have adjusted far better than the pack originally thought they would. Yet when Jacob starts to avoid y/n, the answer they receive is certainly not the one that they were expecting.

Word Count: 4,372

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Jacob being a dick, imprinting, billy interrupting y’all, let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The news of your best friend being a shape shifting werewolf had left you almost gasping for air on the spot, like a fish having been plucked viciously from water. Anxiety pulsed and rippled through your entire being as the animal before you (which had replaced your Jacob) stared into your bewildered wide eyes with his own bulbous orbs. Your heart was palpating so wildly in your chest that you swore that any minute now it would leap from your rib cage and out onto the dull grass of Billy Black’s lawn. There was an intense feeling of nausea that swirled in your stomach, desperately climbing up your throat which made you feel lightheaded.

“Y/n?” Sam inquired softly, hands raised gently above the sides of his head as though he were surrendering to you. “It’s alright. No one’s going to hurt you.” His voice was soothing, crumbling deeply like the flickers of a log fire turning darker as it’s flames died down to charcoal embers.

“Sam, she looks like she’s gonna puke. You think she’s gonna puke? I hope she doesn’t. I’ve got a weak stomach.” Jared complained distastefully, lips turned down at the corners in a deep frown. “I think I’m gonna throw up now.” He continued, hand on his stomach and brows furrowed.

“Will you shut up, Jared? Nobody cares! Y/n literally looks like she’s about to turn on her heels and start running for the hills.” Paul quipped irately, shaking on the spot.

“Both of you, shut up! That’s an order.” Sam barked over his shoulder at his fellow brothers, voice booming, alarming you out of your shocked state.

“What the hell?” You murmured with furrowed brows, swallowing thickly once again as another wave of anxiety washed over you. “Jacob? Y-you just turned into a dog... a very, very large dog! This is insane.” Your eyes scrunched up as though shutting them as tightly as possible would make this entire scene vanish in a puff of wispy grey smoke. Yet when you opened them once more, the wolf was still in his place, staring at you with pleading orbs.

The entire world that you had grown up knowing came crumbling down at your feet, leaving displeasing confusion in it’s wake. And unfortunately, that was the late time you’d seen Jacob Black.

---

Ominous charcoal clouds packed themselves over the small town of Forks, not a strange occurrence on a Saturday afternoon. Your head was still numb, lacking the ability to focus on even the most simple of tasks. However, here you were, damp hair clinging to the sides of your face as you sat in the drivers seat of your car, wedging your key into the ignition, twisting it and as if by magic your car rumbled to life. The heating blasted through the vents at a whirring pace, but comforting against your cold wet skin. It had been a week since the fiasco in his fathers back yard, and another two weeks since you had gone to visit him to apologize for not taking the news of his newfound abilities lightly, explaining that you had needed some time to get your head around the whole ordeal. You weren’t exactly great with weird.

“Hey,” you hummed shyly after having tenderly pattered up the steps of Emily’s front porch, your presence instantaneously noted by the pack of boys and one girl. You had been met with wolfish grins and a massive dose of teasing that you had definitely not missed. Jacob’s brothers and sister welcomed you back with open arms, relieved now that his depressing inner monologue would silence itself out, replacing itself with it’s usually sunny spell.

Jacob on the other hand had appeared intensely bitter, his hulking back still turned to you, indicating that his feelings were hurt. But you knew that a little bit of TLC and a civilized chat would get his walls to come down. “Can we talk?” You’d inquired sheepishly whilst having stuffed your hands into your back pockets - a nervous habit -.

“What’s there to talk about?” Poison seeped from his mouth. ‘Ouch! He’s definitely still mad.’ you had contemplated this time and time again, but it still didn’t dissipate the intense sting his tone of voice created in your heart.

Paul and Jared murmured something, eyes plastered on the pair of you as Embry had placed a bet with Jared over who would win. Leah promptly swatted the back of their heads at such a lightening pace you’d believed you’d dreamed it up if it wasn’t for the trio having clutched the rear of their skulls.

“You know that’s not true, Jake. We can dish it out for everyone to see right here, right now or we could go and talk somewhere privately.” You’d sounded more miffed than you’d thought you’d been originally. Confrontation, particularly in front of others always made you feel on edge and Jacob knew that.

“Wouldn’t you-” Jacob had spun around on his toes, deep eyes lit on fire with a flame that truly could have scorched you, though as soon as the look of indigence had clouded his complexion, it had vanished as though he’d suddenly choked on his words. He stared at you like he’d just seen the sun for the first time, which made you feel a little uncomfortable.

“Wouldn’t I what, Jacob?” You quipped perplexingly, arms folded neatly over your chest, brows raised in question. But he never answered, just gaped at you with that same love-struck complexion. Everything seemed to slow down between the pair of you, as though the gawping eyes staring at you both didn’t even exist.

A clearing of several throats had pulled the pair of you out of your dazes. The others boys were grinning something awfully mischievous at you both, which only spurred on your bewilderment. “Will you two love birds just get a room already?” Jared tipped his head back in exhaustion.

“No, you don’t have to worry about that because I’m leaving.” Jacob spat that same venom from before. And before you were even aware of it, Jacob had pushed past you and was down at the end of Emily’s garden that lead into the thick shrubbery beyond. And the teenage boy was gone.

A low whistle sounded from behind you and embarrassment radiated from your entire existence. ‘Maybe this had just all been a mistake.’ You kept telling yourself.

In the early days of this turn of events, you hadn’t been the least bit surprised when you had phoned him and he hung up when he heard your voice. Although Jacob was sweet and happy most times, obviously this physical change had left him in some form of anger-induced turmoil, which had only amplified when you had rejected him initially. But now enough was enough. Two weeks was long enough for him to mope about like a petty child. You were through with this.

The drive to La Push was a route that you swore to your friends that you could accomplish safely even blindfolded and the winding roads slick with black ice. You had been there and come back so frequently over the course of three years that it now felt like a second home to you. The pack had welcomed you with their taunting remarks and surprisingly you have become one of them, - despite the fact that you were only a frail human being -.

Determination sunk into your bones the longer that you drove, your previous numbness and apprehension having dissipated. Before long you were pulled up along the side of the road just in front of Jacob’s home; and with how dark it had been all day, you could scarcely tell what time it actually was. Yet nevertheless, you practically heaved yourself out of your car and into the pouring rain. Billy had already seen you pull up from the rickety window of his living room and whilst you neared towards the door, he opened it, allowing a yellow wash of artificial light to cascade in the deepness of early evening. “He’s not here, y/n.” the statement was cold, accompanied by an even more acerbic facial expression on his countenance. This made you feel unwelcome, causing you to wonder what in the world Jacob had told his father to make him use that kind of tone with you. Billy had always been quite chirpy and carefree around you in the past.

“Yeah, I don’t by that, old man.” Your brows furrowed as you muttered the words at him with equal matching coldness. “That’s what you said on the phone yesterday evening when I heard Jake call after you in the background.” You grumbled sarcastically, pushing past Billy. You trailed with you an ocean-full of water into the tiny home, which Billy also did not seem surprised about. In fact, now that you were indoors, you could tell that he appeared as though he had expected you to show up sooner or later.

“Well, haven’t you got me sussed out then.” Sarcasm mixed with a simper. Two traits that obviously Jacob had inherited from his father. But that didn’t stop you from storming through the little house and bursting through Jacob’s bedroom door to find that his closet of a bedroom was uninhabited. You had barely even noticed the squeaking wheels of Billy’s wheelchair. “Just like I said, y/n. He’s not here. But from the looks of your face, I’m bagging on the idea that you won’t be leaving any time soon.” he added wryly, ancient black eyes staring up into your own. “At least do me the favor of taking you jacket and shoes off.”

As if on cue, the back door of the Black’s residence opened, revealing Jacob Black’s towering frame which squeezed in through the small opening. Had Jacob grown in the past two weeks you hadn’t seen him? The boy was blissfully unaware of your presence until he looked up to find yourself and his father frozen on the spot. A flash of surprise dawned across his countenance as he took in your disheveled and wet appearance. The puddle of water at your feet made him snort, he knew he’d be the one cleaning that up once you left. “Hey Jake!” Billy grinned widely at his son. “Y/n just dropped by.” He stated it so obviously and nonchalantly it almost made you cringe. You had to hand it to the old man though, he really could make anything awkward sound causal.

Yet this only appeared to spur on Jacob’s rotten attitude.

"Yeah, I can see that.” He muttered bitterly, his great stature weaving around you and towards his room as though you just some obstacle in his path. A nuisance. Again, no matter how many times he used that same tone on you, it always seemed to sting just as bad as the first time. Yet now there seemed to be a dull ache in your heart, as though it were shattering into a billion pieces. Through the dull ache lit a searing fire of irritation and bitterness, creating a sour taste on your tongue and a distasteful whirlwind of anger flooded your system so intensely that your eyes began to water.

“What the hell is your problem?!” You snapped, following after Jacob. Your arm reached out and attempted to wrap around his bicep, but he only continued forward as though he did not notice your touch.

“Y/n...” Billy warned from behind you both but you paid little mind to his warning.

“Do you think I deserve all of this, Jake? How was I supposed to take the news of you turning into a giant freaking werewolf? I’m not Bella!” You hissed through tightly gritted teeth, your fists tightly balled indignantly at your sides, fingernails almost piercing the delicate skin of your palms, which gave you a sensation to ground yourself on.

A scoff emitted itself from Jacob’s mouth and you could practically hear his eyes rolling in his skull. “Yeah, well at least Bella didn’t avoid me for a whole week like a damn baby.”

“Yeah, you’re right Jake! You doubled that yourself.” If he wanted to play this childish game of hurtful words, you were game to jump right in, regardless of whether or not he would turn into a werewolf in front of you. With the way that your anger continued to fester in your veins, you genuinely felt like you could take him on at this point.

"You know that was different, y/n. I was trying to protect her.”

“Yeah, protecting her. What a load of crap! You’re the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever met in my damn life.” Your voice reached a volume it had never reached prior to this point and it almost scared you out of your menacing stupor.

“Hypocrisy,” the word left his mouth acerbically as his larger frame began to shake undoubtedly and his breathing altered itself to a quicker pace. “You know, I don’t get why you’re so mad at me for avoiding you. Do you not like the taste of your own medicine?”

“Taste of my own medicine?!” You practically shouted. “Again, how was I meant to take the news that you turn into a giant wolf, Jake? I’m not like Bella, I don’t do weird!”

“Then maybe you should leave.” He spat over his shoulder at you. The look in his eyes seemed to show more animal than human as he trembled violently on the spot.

“Leave? Jake, why’re you pushing me away like this? I get it, okay. I was an ass for avoiding you but I needed some time and space to get my head around the fact that you and your friends shape shift!”

Silence rung from him, he shut his orbs tightly, attempting to steady the rage bubbling within him through deep breaths. “You should really leave, y/n.”

“No! No, I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me for the past two weeks, Jake. This has more to do with me having taken your shift badly. What happened at Emily’s when I tried to talk to you... when you turned to look at me, it was like you’d seen the sun for the first time in your life. Like-”

“Like what?”

“Like you actually gave a damn about me! And now- now you’re just being an ass. You’re running away from me and I think it’s got something to do with that time at Emily’s.”

Once more, silence hovered over the pair of you, which only indicated to yourself that you had hit the hammer on the nail with doubtless precision.

"Why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on?” You practically pleaded, fingers winding their way around his big wrist. His skin was burning hot, but you refused to let go.

“You wouldn’t understand, y/n. You don’t do weird, remember?”

“Why? Because I’m human? Let me try to do weird for once! I’m learning to...” You hummed under your breath, voice catching in your throat. This felt helpless to you. “Jacob, I don’t want to run away from this any more. I’ve come to terms with what you are and I’m staying, regardless of what you assume I think and feel about you.” It was tender the way that you spoke, an ardent edge that breathed forgiveness from him. You really did want things to work out between the pair of you. All of this arguing and avoiding made your heart ache for your Jacob.

"It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s because I literally hate the fact that I love you so much and you’ll never love me that way back.” There was so much defeat weighing on him that his head and shoulders slumped forward. He still hadn’t dared to face you, though the tremors running up and down his limbs had halted to a soft and slow vibration. He was cooling off. Finally.

In all honesty, this had definitely not been what you were expecting to come flying out of Jacob’s mouth. It left you silent and dumbfounded, mouth dry and agape. “Y-you l-love m-me?” You stammered breathless, fingers tightening around his russet wrist.

“See? This is exactly the reaction I was expecting!” His defenses came clamoring up in order to keep you out. It was exhausting trying to swim against the torrential waves.

"No, Jake, shut up for once! What do you mean that you love me?”

“Just forget I said anything...”

“No!” You tugged on his wrist harder, alerting him finally that you were touching him. He turned to face you, large deep eyes staring into yours with a pained expression. Being this horrible to you, pushing you away was also causing internally emotional damage to him also. “I’m not gonna forget what you said. Jake, you owe me an explanation. I don’t know what happened in the space of these past two weeks you’ve been avoiding me, but being away from you has been painful. It’s like I’ve been drowning without you. The whole time all I kept thinking is that I’d done everything wrong.” You hadn’t even realized there were tears in your eyes until they spilled over and down your cheeks. You batted them away impatiently with your free hand, anger now directed at yourself. “I’m so sorry for- for not having taken your shift well and for freaking out the way that I did. I’m just not good with surprises. But I just wanted you to know that I’ve never stopped loving you and I never will. I’ve always loved you, Jake.”

Awe struck itself across Jacob’s face as he stared at you whilst you cried in front of him. His head cocked to the side momentarily as he blinked a few times. He certainly hadn’t expected that! What did you mean you loved him? How could anyone love him when even he hated the fact that he turned into a werewolf? This didn’t make any sense to him, but it did fit together nicely with what all the other members of his pack had told him.

You were his imprint and these entire two weeks he had been avoiding something he simply could not avoid. Man, he suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt bombard his heart and stomach, leaving him nauseous and unsettled. He’d really put you through the ringer for the past fortnight when really all you had done is react like any sane human would have. He even knew that he’d have reacted as you had. Even when he had shifted for the first time, mixed with all the pain and terror was the thought that he was truly going insane, so in the end, the boy couldn’t blame you for not handling things as well as Bella Swan had. Bella had been immersed in the world of the supernatural far longer than even he himself had. She’d always been odd like that, a danger magnet. The way you had reacted was simply rational, a logical factor of your fight or flight mechanism having kicked in.

The large calloused pads of his thumbs dotted and then pressed softly under your eyes, swiping away your tears with the delicate movement of a feather. “I don’t know what to say...” He stated just above a whisper before he sat on top of his small bed, his chocolate orbs now staring up into yours. Naturally he pulled you into his lap, his embrace hot as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, the heat of his russet skin drying your tears instantly. “Don’t cry. Please? I hate it when you cry.” He pleaded into your shoulder, hands finding their way underneath your raincoat. He made quick work of rubbing your back soothingly, an action that he knew helped to calm you.

“I’m just not good with the idea of fate and soulmate stuff, y/n.” He hummed sincerely against the fabric of your jacket as he brought you much closer to him. The feeling felt warming, as though you were finally back home. It caused your heart to skip a beat and a sob to rake through you. This felt natural, as though it all made sense to you now.

Since no answer fell from your lips he continued, “I know this is gonna make me sound nuts but- oh hell!” He sounded conflicted as he pulled back from you, his nimble fingers finding their way underneath your chin and tenderly pushing your face up so you could see his reddened face. “Every wolf has what you call a soulmate somewhere out there in the world, but it’s not exactly guaranteed that we’ll meet them. Cheesy I know.” Jacob half smiled at you whilst your brows furrowed in confusion. “From what Sam and Hared have explained to me, it’s called imprinting. When we imprint on someone, it’s like- like you said earlier, we’ve seen the sun for the first time. That person we imprint on becomes our whole world and reason for existing. We have this unbreakable bond with said person. It’s impossible for either the imprint or the imprintee to reject one another. In fact, it’s actually quite painful.” He sighed out, eyes suddenly having dropped their gaze from yours.

“What does that mean?” You inquired softly.

Jacob grinned halfheartedly before he looked into your eyes again. “It means, y/n,” his face leaned closer to you, only milometers away. It left your head swimming with excitement. “that we’re soulmates.”

"Me? I’m your soulmate?” You gawked at him, your pointer finger pointing at your heart. Jacob’s chest rumbled with laughter, your confusion making you appear cute.

“Yeah. And it’s a new thing for me too. I’ve never really believed in fate, hence why I’ve been avoiding you for two weeks. I just hate not being in control of myself. I mean, I never meant to hurt you, you have to know that. You do, don’t you?” He inquired candidly, eyes meeting yours once more and you nodded softly. “Good, because if you didn’t I’d have to kick myself again.”

“You’re mad that I’m your soulmate?”

“Imprint. You’re my imprint, y/n.” Jacob grinned widely as though the sun was gleaming in his bedroom once more. “And yeah, to be truthful, I was. But that’s only because I didn’t want to face it.”

“And now? Do you not want me to be your imprint?”

“Of course I do! I was just being petty. You’re not good with weird, and I’m not good with fate.” To that he rubbed his neck sheepishly, causing you to grin widely and giggle.

“You know, for a six foot seven inch teenage boy who’s built like a tnak, you really have a fragile ego.” This made Jacob tip his head back and laugh in even more abundance.

“Alright, I’ll take that one. I do kinda deserve it.”

“I mean, you really were an ass.”

“Yeah, and so were you.”

“Touche.”

A comfortable silence enveloped you both as you silently grinned down at your fiddling fingers. This whole experience left your mind fuzzy and your belly full of fluttering butterflies. “So does this mean we’re okay not? No more avoiding each other like we’ve got the Black Plague?”

“Yeah, we’re good. No plague included.” He stated with a breathy chuckle, his forehead leaning against yours. His hands trailed down to your hips, thumbs brushing underneath the hem of your shirt in a reassuring gesture.

“Good.” You sighed in relief, smiling like you’d suddenly won the lottery. That’s when you finally took note of how alarmingly hot he was. “Jake?” Concern laced your tone.

“Yeah, y/n?”

“Is it normal for you to feel like you’re on fire all the time?”

“Yeah, that’s unfortunately a wolf thing.”

“Well, that’s certainly gonna come in handy during the winter if I do say so myself.”

Again, as though he could not stop himself, Jacob snickered, wrapping his russet arms around your waist securely, bringing you into his front once more for a tight embrace. This felt like the best feeling in the world, being in his arms. Home. It felt just like the home you’d always dreamed of since you were a little girl. Your orbs began to flutter shut tiredly as your fingers brushed against the base of his neck, the tips fingering through the short hairs on the nape of his neck, a gesture of forgiveness. Peace radiated off of the pair of you as though nothing else mattered in the world. Surely nothing could ruin this moment.

Suddenly, the door nudged open, revealing Billy Black. As if on cue, embarrassing painted evidently on your expression, you flinched out of Jacob’s arms and landed on the bed next to him. The entire movement left him confused until he stared at his father in the doorway with the smuggest grin smacked straight on his face. “Hey, y/n, I see you and Jake have made up. I hope that means that you’ll be staying for dinner. I’ve made my famous spaghetti: It’s a family secret, passed down from generation to generation.” The way this old man was capable of reacting so calmly to any situation was almost laughable.

“S-sure!” You hummed whilst Jacob scoffed beside you, muttering underneath his breath about how spaghetti hardly dated back far enough and wasn’t culturally accurate for it to be true. You pinched Jacob’s arm softly, to which he laughed at.

“Great! Because while you two had your little fiasco I was in there finishing it all up. It’s ready now.” And to that he twisted his wheelchair around and made his way to the living room. “Jake, do you mind plating up the food? Also, can you wipe up that puddle of water on the floor so y/n doesn’t slip?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake muttered brazenly, his orbs rolling as he got up off of the bed and followed after his father. You grinned to yourself for a moment as you watched Jacob dash to the bathroom to grab a towel and mop up the water you’d left in your wake of chasing him down earlier that evening before he made his way into the kitchen to dish up some plates of Billy Black’s Famous Spaghetti.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

department of matchmaking || s.r

summary: in which you’re asked by aunt may to babysit peter while she’s away at a business conference & steve tags along. peter, being the innocent smol bean he is, tries to get you and the Captain together.

words: ~3.1k

warnings: none, just fluff & a little matchmaking spider-man :) and OH steve’s blue jacket heheh. tony’s your dad in this oop cant resist a stark child. shhh CW never happened bc i’m still in denial

Peter: Aunt May says she has a couple errands to run so she won't be back until later this afternoon. Can you pick me up? School just ended.

You: Of course!

Peter: Ned and I are planning on building the Lego Death Star tonight. I know you're a sucker for building stuff :)

You: You know me so well, kiddo. I'm definitely in. How could I miss out on our weekly date nights?

Peter: You're the best! See you soon

You: See you!

"Where are you going?"

"May's busy, so I gotta go pick Peter up from school," you explained to Steve as you slung your purse over your shoulder and grabbed the keys to your (Tony's) Audi, sliding your sunglasses on. "We're having one of our weekly Friday movie nights, and he and Ned just got a new Lego set that they want me to help construct. You wanna come along?"

"Sure, I don't mind."

You headed outside to the car together, sticking the keys into the ignition as Steve slid in next to you in the passenger's seat. "I hope you don't have anything else planned for the rest of tonight. We might be there for a while...I know we were gonna see that new action movie in theaters tomorrow. I'm sorry."

"Nope, no plans," he smiled, "I'm free for the rest of this weekend. As long as I get to spend time with you, it's okay."

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter a bit at his words.

But you quickly brushed the thought off, knowing the last thing you were supposed to do was fall for someone after you'd just gotten over a nasty breakup.

Soon enough, you pulled up in front of Midtown High School and saw Peter standing with Ned by the curb. You rolled the window down and called out to them. "Hey, boys. Need a ride?"

"My favorite Avenger! Hi!" Ned greeted as he and Peter got into the backseat, strapping their seatbelts on.

"Ouch, I'm offended," Steve placed a hand over his chest and pretended to look hurt. "I thought I was your favorite?"

"Captain America! It's an honor!" he exclaimed. "I've heard so much about you from Peter!"

"Oh, really? I hope he only told you good things?" the super-soldier chuckled.

"Yup!"

"So, how was school?" you glanced back at the two teenagers from the rearview mirror. "Anything interesting happen?"

"No, except they actually served something edible in the cafeteria for lunch today," Peter rolled his eyes. "Which is a first."

You sighed, placing your hand back on the wheel, "School food isn't the best thing ever."

"So uh, I have a question," Ned spoke up as you headed down the street, "are you and Y/N a...thing? ‘Cause I hear a lot of fans are speculating that the kickass agent and America’s golden boy are dating."

"What? No," you and Steve replied in unison, exchanging a knowing look before bursting into laughter. "No."

"Okay..."

It was mostly quiet for the rest of the car ride back to the apartment. Peter pulled out the keys from his jacket pocket and slid it in the lock, pushing the door open and gesturing for the rest of you to come inside.

"So," he breathed out, setting his backpack down by the front door and dusting his hands off. You sat around the sofa together, glancing at the massive Lego set on the coffee table. "Here it is, in all its glory."

"How many pieces is this?" Steve questioned, looking at it in shock.

"Almost 4000."

A buzzing sound from his phone made Peter look down, swiping a few times before unlocking it and scanning over the new notification.

"May has an overnight business conference and she won't be back until tomorrow evening. She wants you to babysit," he explained as he looked up at you.

"Fine by me," you shrugged. "Cap?"

"Sure, why not."

"But I'm 15 and 8 months! I'm not a baby."

"Well, kiddo, I'm 28 and Tony treats me like a baby even though I’m not a baby anymore. Steve's going on 32, and acts like he's 12."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do."

"Arguing like a married couple," Peter coughed, and Ned wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "Cute."

"For the last time, we're not a thing," you let out an exasperated sigh, but felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you spoke.

Two hours later you were a little over halfway done with building the Death Star, and fatigue was beginning to catch up with you after you neglected your sleep schedule and pulled three all-nighters in a row bingeing Netflix with Sam.

You let out a yawn as you flipped through the instructions pamphlet, stretching your arms up in the air.

"You tired?" Steve asked. You were too tired to respond, simply leaning into him and closing your eyes.

"You can take her to the guest room. Straight down the hall, then turn right," Peter said as he noticed you'd now fallen asleep on him. "We can continue this after dinner."

Steve scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you down the hall, pushing the door to the guest room open with one hand before carefully setting you down on the bed, tucking you in.

"Sleep tight," he whispered, a ghost of a smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss your forehead and left.

"Ahem. Now that she's gone," Ned cleared his throat, "time to plan on how we're supposed to get our OTP together!"

"Ned, really-"

"You should ask her out, Cap. I see the way you look at her," Peter raised an eyebrow at him, "I mean, it's clear to everyone how you feel about her, and the way she feels about you. Sam sees it, Mr. Stark sees it, heck, I think May has her suspicions as well because she wouldn't stop talking about how great of a couple you two would be over dinner last night-"

"Look, Peter, I don't think she's ready for a relationship."

"Why not?"

"She just broke up with her boyfriend two months ago. I doubt she'd be willing to date again."

"But you're her best friend! You're literally the perfect man for her!"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not taking advantage of someone when they're vulnerable. That isn't right."

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his feet up against the coffee table, tossing a spare Lego piece up and down in one hand. "Yeah, I totally believe the great Captain America isn't in love with the great Y/N."

"She's my friend. A teammate."

"Friends with benefits!" Ned chimed in. Steve made a face at this. "No, not like that. I mean that as in, you guys do all the things that regular couples do, except you're not officially a couple. And I think that's big enough of an indication that you should get together for real."

"I'm just waiting for the right time."

"AHA!" both boys shouted. "So you are in love with her!"

"Keep it down!" he scolded. "She's asleep!"

"You didn't deny it this time..."

"Fine, whatever. What do you guys want for dinner? I'll go pick it up."

"Pizza."

"If Y/N asks where I am, just tell her I went to go get the food."

"Okay."

As soon as the door shut behind Steve, Peter and Ned's heads immediately whipped over and they faced each other, exchanging evil grins.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ned practically squealed.

"Yeah, I'm thinking what you're thinking!"

"Romantic dinner and movie night setup!" both boys whooped and hollered.

"I'll light the candles and get the napkins. May always keeps a stock of scented ones when Y/N comes over because she loves the smell of cherry blossoms."

"...I'll grab the rose petals and tablecloth."

"Rose petals?"

"Mind if I tear apart the flower on your desk?"

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Also, the regular tall candles are in the cabinet below the sink in the bathroom."

"Yessir."

Twenty minutes later, Steve came back with the pizza in hand, setting the keys on the counter and closing the door, stopping dead in his tracks as he observed the scene before him.

"What is going on?"

"We set up a date night for you two because we know you've been working hard this past week and deserved to relax," Peter explained happily. "So, here you go!"

"Peter," Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I appreciate your effort, but Y/N isn't ready for a relationship and neither one of us has feelings for the other."

"But you guys deserve a break! After working nonstop you should at least rest or something."

"Alright, alright. I'll go get Y/N. You guys set the pizza on the plates for everyone, okay?"

"Got it."

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, then stretched your arms up into the air, skidding to a halt as you observed the sight before you.

“Wh...what’s going on?”

Peter and Ned grinned from where they sat on the couch, paper plates on their laps. “We thought you deserved a nice break, so we set up a little something for you guys!”

“A romantic dinner? Why...”

"It looks pretty and gives off a relaxing mood. Why else?” Peter laughed nervously. “Now eat!”

“Okay...” you started growing suspicious, but didn’t question it, “alright, then.”

You fell into an awkward silence after that, aside from the occasional sound of silverware clinking against plates and drink glasses being set back down on the table. The atmosphere felt heavier than before and you couldn’t help but wonder what it was.

“So, uh...how have you been holding up?” Steve asked you tentatively. He knew the topic of your ex-boyfriend was still that of a rather sensitive one - you’d come storming through the elevator doors and gulped down half a bottle of vodka (you never drank, so this had everyone genuinely worried), before heading upstairs and taking a forty-five minute shower, then afterwards, proceeded to lock yourself in your room for the rest of the afternoon.

When you wouldn’t come down for dinner, he had to carry up your food to you and when you refused to eat, he was the one to force-feed you. When you suddenly broke down sobbing when he asked you if you were alright, he was the one who held you in your arms. He was the one who got you out of bed to bring you downstairs for some fresh air and to interact with the others, and not once during the time he was having to take care of you for, did he question any of your behavior. You were hurting and that was all that mattered. If you were hurting, he was hurting, too.

“It’s been a rough eight weeks...” you sighed, rubbing your forehead with one hand as you took a sip of wine. “Could be better, but...I’m alright. I just wish I could’ve seen that coming from the moment I went on that blind date with him.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was confused - you’d never mentioned any details of your relationship, you were a very private person, for that matter. You rarely ever opened up to anyone. “I thought you were...”

“Happy? Hell no, I don’t even know why I stayed,” you scoffed as you took another swing of your drink. “It was so easy to fall into a routine. There was this gaping hole in my heart, and...I needed it to be filled somehow. Then Agent Williams comes along, a seemingly perfect new SHIELD recruit, almost everything a girl could possibly want in a man standing right in front of me...how could I not fall for his façade? I didn’t realize it was doomed from the start until about a week into the relationship...but I held my tongue. I knew if I dared to speak up against him, he’d somehow manage to use my words against me, twist everything I said into a whole new lie...he manipulated me, day after day...yet I still didn’t leave because I genuinely believed he’d change.

“But I was wrong. I was naïve, I stayed because I was so desperate to experience true happiness that I went as far as to stay with someone I knew would do a number on my mental health in the long run. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I walked into HQs one day to drop stuff of for Coulson, to see Williams on top of someone else...in the gym. In the gym...of all places. I only didn’t blast him because I didn’t want to destroy Fury’s property. So I slapped him and left. That’s it. This whole...fling, or whatever the hell you want to call this shitty relationship, lasted only twenty-six days before everything fell apart. God, I’m so stupid - I should’ve known. I was so stupid, I’m such a horrible person for doing what-”

Steve felt his blood boil with anger. Williams had cheated on you - that’s why you’d broken up. All this time he’d been thinking that you simply fell out of love, or maybe ended it on friendlier terms - when in fact, it was anything but.

Nobody deserved to be treated this way, especially you. I could treat you much better, he thought to himself.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, reaching a hand up to wipe the stray tears that fell from your eyes. Instead of letting his hand fall back at his side right away, he let it linger there for a moment, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. The feeling sent electricity up his fingers. “It’s not your fault. You’re not a bad person...he is.”

“Shit, I think our plan’s backfiring,” Peter hissed into Ned’s ear as they watched the scene unfold from the couch. “What the fuck, Ned!”

“Shh! Hold on, they’re having a really deep conversation. Let them be for a second.”

“I was stupid enough to stay, when he was giving off all the wrong signs...I should’ve listened to Tony and Nat. They knew. They knew from the moment we first got together, but I didn’t listen...”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know any better,” he reassured you, absentmindedly taking your hand in his and rubbing circles across your palm, “you just wanted to be happy. To experience that feeling that came along with being in a relationship. Frankly, I think I would’ve done the same thing.”

“And what makes me feel even worse,” your voice caught in your throat as you spoke, “...were my true intentions of staying. I wanted to be happy, I really did. But I realized I’d never achieve that with someone like him...in a way, I was using him too, I guess. Not for my personal gain or anything, not to boost my social status, like he did...he always made a point of walking around and declaring that he had an Avenger girlfriend. But...”

“But what?”

“I knew if I was in a relationship with someone, that’d prevent me from thinking about being with anyone else. Well...that plan failed...horribly.”

“...What are you saying?”

“Of course, I didn’t figure that out until not long ago...but yeah. The heart wants what it wants...and it didn’t want him.”

“Then who was it?”

Your gaze flickered down to your now-intertwined fingers. You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “...I think you know who it is, Steve.”

“See!” Ned kicked Peter in the shin as he was in the middle of finishing off his second slice, and he winced. “It’s getting saucy!”

“Ow!”

“I think we both know,” Steve murmured.

You let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t know why I tried pursuing a relationship that wouldn’t fulfill me in the long run. I should’ve known it was you all along, huh? You know me like the back of your hand. For Odin’s sake, you remembered every detail of my SHIELD file, my favorite color, my exact birth date, everything there is to know about me. It’s always been you-”

“...It broke my heart to see you with someone who wasn’t me,” he said quietly.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want you to feel like I was meddling in your love life. I know you hate it when people do that.”

“Steve-”

“I knew you weren’t as happy as you let on. I shouldn’t have stayed silent...I should’ve at least said something. I was terrified to speak up, thinking that you wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings-”

“You...you what?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “I’m in love with you.”

Peter let out a squeak. Ned chucked a pillow at him, a giddy look on his face.

“Good news,” you laughed, “because I’m in love with you too.”

“FINALLY!” Ned whooped, unable to contain his excitement for any longer. He and Peter exchanged a fist-bump. “FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY! I can’t believe our ship finally sailed! Though I gotta be honest, I had no idea pizza could bring out people’s true feelings like that.”

“We’re geniuses!” Peter squealed, pulling out his phone.. “Oh, wait until Mr. Stark hears about this!”

Your eyes widened in realization. “Peter, don’t you dare c-”

Too late. A buzzing sound came from your phone, alerting you of a new notification, and you unlocked it to see a text from your father.

Mr. Stank😡: Took you long enough, honey. I expect a grandchild soon.

Mr. Stank😡: But I’m gonna be honest, I wouldn’t want any other man for you than Capsicle himself.

You let out a loud groan, shoving your phone back into your purse. “Oh, come on.”

A buzzing sound came from Steve’s phone as well, and he took it out of his pocket to take a look.

Stark: You better not knock her up until after you get married and then leave. I learned that lesson too late. I’m being serious when I’m telling you to treat her right - she hasn’t been the same since her mother walked out all those years ago. You make her happy, though, so I won’t try to intervene.

Stark: But if you hurt her in any way, I’ll break your face. Capiche?

Steve: ...Capiche.

“Ooh! I just got a promotion for telling him about you guys!” Peter clasped his hands together. “I’m joining you on your next group mission!”

“That’s great, Peter!” you congratulated, “but...why would he give you a promotion for...this?”

“Because he’s been waiting for this to happen for the longest time! Oh and also, your food’s getting cold.”

“We could just reheat it. Or...if you guys are still hungry, do you want to go to Olive Garden?” Steve looked over at the two teenage boys.

“YES.”

“Y/N, what about you?”

“It’s a date,” you winked. You let out a small laugh upon seeing his cheeks flush red.

#avengers imagines #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fic #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot #captain america one shot #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

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Tides of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 9

Tides of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because SKEKSA!

Last times in book: Sent on a mission by Aughra and the Crystal to unite all the Gelfling clans in resistance against the Skeksis, Amri and co head to Cera-Na to try to persuade the Sifa Maudra Ethri to join the cause. Ethri tells them that she’s not keen on joining but that they can hang around a bit before they have to try the next maudra. An ill-looking Tae is encountered and suspicion falls on Amri despite having a great alibi. Into this tumult enters skekSa!

Chapter 9

Detective skekSa investigates the Case of the Poisoned Tae

So last time ended with a surprise skekSa reveal. A stupendous one.

The protags are less impressed than I am. And more…. Alarmed? Terrified?

The Sifa aren’t surprised to see the Mariner. Which makes a lot of sense. Team Naia doesn’t know this but skekSa has a humongous and unmistakable ship. She’s not going to be in town in an anonymous skiff. So yeah, the Sifa know she’s there.

They’re thrilled she’s there (as am I) and throw pretty things at her feet after Maudra Ethri tells them to go back to their ships.

Amri is less than thrilled. Very much less than.

“So, this is why you turned your ear against us?” he asked. “Because it was already owned by a conniving Skeksis?”

skekSa snorted. “It’s rude to talk about a conniving Skeksis while they stand right in front of you.”

Oh she is wry!

Amri tried not to buckle at the Skeksis’s deep, velvety voice.

And she has the velvety voice of the infinite!

Two pages and I’m already far more sold than with the Satirist.

Amri also notices that she’s a lot more limber and graceful than the Chamberlain. Since she denies later drinking essence that means that an active lifestyle and fresh ocean air is a way better means of preserving Skeksis than huddling away in a castle and the temporary performance enhancing effects of drinking soul goop.

It’s a funny thing that between the Hunter (of the show) and skekSa, the best preserved Skeksis are the ones who decided to remain active and not in the castle. Maybe that’s why skekUng is the beefiest boy come the movie since he spent the entire show elsewhere.

“Poor little Tae. Let us move her to somewhere more comfortable. It is unsettling to see her in a pile like this.”

She easily scooped Tae’s body up in one arm, cradling her like a youngling. Her tenderness made Amri wriggle with discomfort.

Really illustrates the size difference that Skeksis can just scoop up an adult Gelfling like that.

Amri can’t really act on his discomfort so the group just follows skekSa to the beach where Tae is gently plopped down on an abandoned quilt.

Then skekSa becomes a pirate captain detective. Horatio Holmes. And asks Naia to lead her through what happened. Naia just says she knows what the Skeksis have done.

skekSa placed a hand against her breast, leaning back and raising her brows as if scandalized.

“You know what I’ve done! So then, you know that I left the Castle of the Crystal hundreds of trine before you were born, when I was disgusted with the way skekSo chose to rule? Hmm? You know that I’ve spent the last seventy trine alone on the Silver Sea, as far from the land as I can sail? Only returning to Cera-Na to gift my little ones with the treasures I’ve found abroad?”

The sarcasm!

Maudra Ethri interrupts to ask what’s wrong with Tae and Naia insists that she’s been drained, based on her blank face and unseeing stare.

skekSa disagrees because Tae’s eyes don’t have that milky film on them. I guess despite being on the Silver Sea for seventy trine, she’s up on current events?

Instead, the Skeksis pirate thinks Tae has been poisoned and they need to find out what the poison was ASAP before Tae gets too ill.

And the quickest way to do that would be to figure out who would poison Tae so they can be forced to reveal what the poison is.

“Who here in Cera-Na has motive to poison your dear Tae?”

Ethri paced, kicking up sand in her distress. It was not the stoic countenance of a maudra but the worried agitation of a friend. Though it betrayed her inexperience as a leader, her concern for Tae was the first thing that endeared her to Amri.

“I don’t know! Everyone loves Tae. She has no enemies, makes friends wherever she goes. I can’t imagine who would want to do this to her.”

Kylan says that Tae told them that she had someone to meet so they know she was probably poisoned then. But she didn’t tell them who.

skekSa tells Naia to use her Gelfling healing magic but Naia hesitates because what if seeing Gelfling magic makes skekSa thirsty for soul goo??

Also:

Amri shouldered his coat back, the way he’s seen angry Captain Madso do, to make sure skekSa saw the hilt of the sword at his hip.

skekSa took note of it, sniffing as if he’d said something amusing.

Hah.

But skekSa tells Naia to go ahead. But before Naia can do the blue glowey, she smells Drenchen nectarwine on Tae. “It’s made from fermented sogflower nectar, used in recipes for healing and merriment.”

And as skekSa points out, there’s a lot of other “merriment potions” available. Only someone with a taste for specifically nectarwine would have it on hand specifically.

I want to note that it feels very much like skekSa has already figured out the whole riddle and is just gently leading everyone else to the answer for her amusement.

But the reveal that Tae probably met with someone with specific taste in merriment makes Ethri call for Captain Staya.

“Grand, simply grand,” skekSa said. “Our first clue. Perhaps Staya could bring some to share. I could use some potions of merriment m’self.”

I’m 99% sure that skekSa already knows the answer. That goof.

Staya is brought to the scene of the Tae but denies doing anything but a mild rebuke from skekSa has him admit that he did meet and drink with Tae and claims she was wobbly when she left.

He also denies taking Tae’s jewelry because “what need have I for her dainty lassywing metals?” when he’s loaded down with twice as many accessories as Tae had.

With Tae’s pulse growing weak, Maudra Ethri demands Staya reveal anything he knows for Tae’s sake, with skekSa chiming in to consider the penalty for deceit.

“I put zandir in her nectarwine,” he confessed. “To make her tell the truth. And I’m glad I did, because she told me what you’re planning, Ethri!”

Ethri went rigid like she’d been struck by lightning, every facet of her gem eye igniting with light and fire.

“What’s he talking about?” Naia asked lowly.

“Ah, the truth, the truth,” Captain skekSa sang. She rose and swept closer to Tae, stooping to once again life the unconscious Sifa into her arms. “It all comes out in the dark.”

Such intrigue!

This feels exactly like playing a game and rolling into town where there’s a bunch of secret plotting that’s been happening and it all takes off just as you get there.

And skekSa is living for it.

She ignores Ethri’s attempts to justify herself to Staya and sets off to take Tae to her ship for healing, dunking on Sifa medicine while she’s at it.

“I have the means to heal her there. More reliable means, that is, than burning colored dust and reading bones over her slowly dying body.”

Ouch.

She also asks Naia to come with her to heal Tae. Amri is hesitant to have any of their group alone on skekSa’s ship where anything could happen to them but Naia has her dander up and refuses to leave Tae alone with the Skeksis.

Naia also tells Ethri she’s got some splainin’ to do after this.

So Ethri, Staya, Naia, Kylan, and Amri all follow skekSa down a loooong dock far away from any of the Sifa ships. There doesn’t seem to be a ship and Kylan says as much to skekSa’s amusement.

She pulls out a metal pipe and blows a “long, high-pitched, almost inaudible note” onto it that hurts both Amri and Tavra’s ears or lack thereof.

Waves churned in the deep water off the end of the headland. Under the pale light of the two Sisters shining above, the ocean split across the spined ebony back of an enormous beast. They all watched as the thorny shell of the biggest creature Amri had ever seen rose from the water. Its carapace glistened in the moonlight as the ocean water streamed down its sides. Its shell alone was as large as the Omerya, though its obsidian color stood in contrast to the brightness of the maudra’s coral ship.

The moaning grew louder and louder until the behemoth’s cavernous head breached the surface of the sea. Waves sloshed against the dock. It groaned again, the sound so loud, Amri felt it rattle in his chest.

Moments later, a small boat detached from the great beast’s shell, pulled by an armored, spiny fish with glowing spots along its back. The fish brought the boat to the dock.

skekSa gestured casually, taking care not to jostle Tae.

“All aboard.”

Hot damn! Davy Jones wishes his ship was this excessive!

skekSa lives in a sea monster!

#dark crystal #the dark crystal #Tides of the Dark Crystal #liveblog #Amri #Naia #Kylan #Tavra #skekSa #the Mariner #Maudra Ethri

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 4 years

Text

Fragmentation Fanfic

Title: Fragmentation

Summary: Once Upon a Time, a Bold-and-Boisterous Prince sits on a throne. A Bold-and-Boisterous Prince has a great fall. A Hallowed Heart finds him in pieces and a Studious Scholar puts the Prince back together again. Or.

A broken crown lies in an empty throne room. A Shrewd Snake and a Shy Spiderling enter the throne room. Only there isn’t just a broken crown awaiting them, there’s a broken boy. All the words and all the actions can’t put the boy back together again, but a listening ear and a comforting embrace softens the pain. Or.

If a mirror shatters into two pieces, which one is the original piece?

Word-Count: 2.9k

Pairings: Platonic Moralogince, Platonic Anxceitmus

Warnings: Angst, Crying, Panic, Murder Mention, Death Mention, Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending Kinda?, No Unsympathetic Sides At Worst Morally Grey

Hi, anyone remember the random ficlet I posted in pieces months back that ended all happily? Well, I expanded upon it and here we are. Or in other news, here’s my take on a Split Fic, and it’s not your typical take in my humble opinion.

A clatter echoed in the throne room. A golden crown laid cracked in two. A soft thud followed it as a red sash carelessly engulfed the crown. An exhale, long and strained. Silence. Then a sob as a prince fell to the ground, shattering.

A battered and beaten Heart came along searching for the Prince. He called out his name, searching the castle high and low. But the Prince did not answer nor did the Heart catch a glimpse of him. When the Heart entered the throne room, he kept his gaze on the empty throne. It was not until his foot caught on something that he drew his attention to the marble floor.

“Oh my!” the Heart gaped, eyes watering, “Oh dear!”

Lying at the Heart’s feet, was the fragmented remains of the once bold and boisterous Prince. The Heart touched a piece, a chill pulsing through him at its cold, ceramic touch.

Great globs of tears fell down the Heart’s face as he toppled to the floor in anguish.

He gathered the pieces close to his chest, trying to put the beloved Prince back together again. But for all the Heart’s earnest efforts, the pieces only fractured and splintered into more.

The Heart placed his head into his hands, shaking. He was not good enough to save the Prince. Worse than that, he not only failed but he had damaged the Prince further. He could feel his insides growing frayed, threatening to unravel and come unmade like the Prince himself.

But with a breath of air, he held it together. He may not have the ability to put back together the Prince, but perhaps the Scholar could.

The Scholar was smart. His idea of fun afternoon involved delving into complex, convoluted math theorems. Out of anyone in the realm of Thomas, the Heart trusted him most in solving the matter of the broken Prince.

Lifting a hand away from his face, the Heart summoned him. The Scholar arrived, completely oblivious. His eyes closed, hands tightly clasped around his bowtie. “Welcome to the Jungle, it’s so exciting--” the Scholar recited, in a spoken monotone measure.

The Heart pulled incessantly on the Scholar’s pants leg to grab his attention. This caused the Scholar to jump back, startled. His eyes flew open, trailing down at the Heart and then to the porcelain remains of the Prince.

Usually, the Scholar was never one at a loss for words. He was always the first to ask questions, to seek knowledge to better equip himself and others. But he kept staring at the scene before him, seemingly having lost the capability of speech.

Then a strange stifled noise came from the Scholar. As if there was a blockage in his lungs, a spear that punctured all the air out of them. But of course, there was no spear sticking out of his chest. No logical reason for such a noise to occur. With a face devoid of all emotion, the Scholar knelt down beside the Heart.

He picked up a piece, examining it with an analytical touch, short of licking it. Licking things was a very scientific tool. A tool he refrained from deploying at this moment.

“It’s him isn’t it?” The Scholar said at last, frowning, “But how? It does not make logical sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” The Heart piped up, “but his realm doesn’t tend to follow the rules of reality. But you can fix this, right? Undo wh–whatever this is?”

The Scholar frowned, eyeing the ceramic shards carefully.

“It is always easier to destroy than to create,” He began, “Or recreate in this instance. However, that does not mean it is improbable.”

A spark of hope ignited in Heart. So you can do it?!”

“I can try,” The Scholar amended, “There is, of course, a possibility it will not work at all.”

The Scholar placed the piece in his hand on the floor along with the rest. Then he stood up, outstretching a hand.

“You should get back.” He advised. The Heart nodded, scampering a few feet back for good measure.

Satisfied with this, the Scholar’s eyes glowed indigo as he called forth his power. Nonsensical, really, but it was how the Prince’s dominion interpreted him; a wizened wizard with a terrifying amount of power. The Scholar restored sensibility to its whimsy. He could reduce a magical unicorn to an average horse.

Something similar could be applied in this situation. He would take the shattered statue and return its original completely whole flesh-and-blood state. He just had to focus and recall every factual evidence he knew of the Prince. Chips and chunks of ceramic floated in the air, swirling as they came together again. At first the shape was ambiguous.

But as more and more pieces flew up, it became more apparent. A graceful swoop of auburn hair. A chiseled perfectly-formed jaw. A white tunic with a red sash spilling across the chest.

Bit by bit, their treasured prince was returning to them at last.

As the last piece fell into place, a bright light burst forth, filling up the entirety of the throne room. Both the Heart and the Scholar were knocked to the ground by its force. As quickly as it came, it faded.

“Ouch.” Heart murmured, still keeping a hand over his stinging eyes. The Scholar tried forcing his eyes open, but a wave of nausea hit him. He slumped back down, drained from the massive amount of energy he’d expended.

The sound of strutting boots reached both their ears, growing louder as it neared. Then it stopped.

“Helloooo?”

The Heart opened his eyes. Through his burning, black-spot riddled vision, the Prince’s befuddled face greeted him. Whole and complete with no signs of cracked lines running across his sun-kissed skin.

“Prince!” The Heart exclaimed, jumping to his feet to embrace him, “You’re okay!”

“Whoa!” The Prince said, holding out his arms for balance. He nearly collapsed regardless when a second set of arms engulfed him. Despite being adamant against physical touch, the Scholar was also…hugging him?

“Not that I don’t appreciate being lavished with displays of affection, I must ask–what in Walt Disney’s name is going on?”

“We thought we lost you!” The Heart wailed, “and that you wouldn’t ever be coming back!”

“Indeed, th-the possibility of you returning to your full stature was low.” The Scholar said, leaning heavily on the other two for support.

“Well that’s preposterous!” The Prince declared, bringing his arms around his friends, “You should know that a hero like myself could never die.”

“Pompous as always.” The Scholar snorted, but there was no true malice to it.

“Are you feeling alright?” The Heart queried.

“I’m right as rain!” The Prince said with a wide smile, “I admit, I’m very fuzzy on what happened, but I feel much better now.”

“That would make sense, seeing as we found you in actual pieces.”

The Heart sniffled, burying his head into the Prince’s tunic. “I love you two so much, you know that right?”

“Of course we know, you tell us this every day,” The Scholar responded. Neither Heart nor Scholar saw the hesitation dancing in the Prince’s eyes before it was overswept by a glimmering gleam.

“And we love you very much, Heart,” The Prince said, “Why, I’d fight a thousand dragons to keep you safe!”

The Heart giggled at this. Then wailed, leaving wet spots in the Prince’s pristine clothing. “Th--that’s lovely, but all I want is to cuddle with you and Scholar watching Disney movies and never ever ever let go!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Scholar said, “you’d have to let go at some point--”

“Scholar,” The Prince said, holding up a hand, “Not the time.”

The Prince then massaged the Heart’s scalp, carefully untangling his locks of hair. “My Dear Heart, I apologize. I didn't mean to distress you or the Scholar so. If that’s what you wish for me to do with you two for the rest of the night, I shall do that.”

“I would not be opposed to that.” The Scholar agreed, “As long as we go to bed at an appropriate time--”

“Then it’s settled!” The Prince exclaimed, “Come on, let us build the most magnificent blanket fort!”

With a snap of his fingers, the three vanished.

The throne room stood silent once more, absent of any apparent sentient life. All that remained was a dusty floor and a crown broken in two. It remained this way only just mere moments. For a Snake came slithering around, forked tongue sniffing the air. Scuttling after him came a Spiderling. All eyes and legs and not much else.

“Snake, why are we here?” The Spiderling asked, “This is the Prince’s domain! He won’t be happy if he finds us here!”

“Shush, Spiderling. Everything will be fineee.” Snake reassured, picking up the broken halves of the Prince’s golden crown. He examined them closely with a careful eye.

“Just because you say that doesn’t make it true!” Spiderling scowled, stomping a leg.

“If you’re so worried, you didn’t have to come.”

Spiderling mumbled something. The Snake raised an eyebrow, “Come again?”

“I came because I wanna protect you from getting hurt!” The Spiderling burst out, face flushing red.

“Aww, I despise you too,” The Snake cooed, ruffling Spiderling’s hair. The latter let out a shriek, hands flying to fix his hair at once.

“But you know I am totally a damsel-in-distress. Completely incapable of defending myself. Besides, surely you felt it too--the Disturbance.”

The Spiderling nodded, grimacing, “I felt Prince...he...is that his crown?!”

“Yes. Just like him to leave such a beloved possession broken and abandoned on the floor, hm?”

“Let me touch it,” The Spiderling pleaded. For he could draw the slightest hint of misery into himself with a simple touch. And with that misery, perhaps a glimpse into what tragedy befell the prince.

The Snake hesitated, before nodding his head. The Spiderling then stood up on the tippy-toes of his numerous legs, tracing one of his fingers on the remains of the crown lying in the Snake’s hands. A spark of anguish jolted the Spiderling at once.

He experienced a pounding, excruciating headache. A mind torn in two, attempting to entertain two polarizing ideas at once. Anger, sadness, frustration crashed down upon the Spiderling wave after wave. It sought to overwhelm, drive him to self-destruction like it had the young Prince.

The Spiderling cried out in pain, his hands cradling his face as he dropped to the floor. A series of metallic clangs followed and then the Snake was at his side.

“Spider!” The Snake cried, laying a cool hand on top of the Spiderling’s, “You’re okay, you’re fine, everything’s fineeeee.”

The Spiderling’s eyes glowed gold for a second, his face relaxing completely. Slowly, the gold left his eyes and he dug his face into the Snake’s satin vest with a whimper.

“I knew it, I knew I shouldn’t have allowed you to touch it,” The Snake said, stroking the other’s unruly mop of hair in a soothing manner.

“I’m okay,” The Spiderling grumbled, “Dealt with worse.”

“Lie.”

“M-maybe, but Prince, he’s--” The Spiderling hesitated, tears gathering in his eyes, “I think he’s dead!”

“I’m not!” A voice said, hauntingly cheery, “but I wish I was!”

Both Snake and Spiderling froze, each gazing at the throne room every which way. But besides themselves, there was no one else there.

The Snake’s slitted eye narrowed, “Who are you?”

“I’m the Prince!” The voice claimed, “Or at least, I was. Still am? It’s very unclear. I’m the pieces they forgot, the pieces nobody knew about! Hiding away, like an axe murderer hiding in a closet to kill you in your sleep!”

The Spiderling shuddered at the simile, both sets of arms clinging to Snake for dear life. He was very much content to allow Snake to do the talking for the two of them.

“What do you mean?” The Snake asked.

“Well, you see, I--the Prince--again, very confusing like that weird nightmare Thomas had about eating chocolate-covered teeth--had an argument with himself, ourselves? And his--my head hurt, like it was gonna explode! And so we did! Into itty bitty pieces of confetti and blood and guts!”

The Disturbance. The Snake’s blood ran cold at this. All this time the Prince was dealing with something on the levels of this, and he had no idea? How could the Snake not sense this hidden turmoil?

That was what the Snake was best at--knowing the jagged truths behind brightly-painted facades. If he’d known--he could’ve possibly helped--well, it didn’t matter now.

Out loud, the Snake simply deadpanned, “Delightful.”

“Isn’t it?!” The voice shrieked, two green eyes bulging with excitement, “Anywho, that’s when Mr. No Fun showed up and started boo-hooing. He tried to fix it, but he just made it worse! So that’s when he invited Smartypants to join the party.”

“Heart and Scholar?”

“Winner, winner, chicken-weiner!” Two hands abruptly appeared, clapping, “Now I like Smartypants, but like I said, he’s a Smartypants, thinks he knows everything there is to know and hates when we--I make things up just because!”

“I feel your pain.”

“Do you?” A several sets of needle-thin, sharp teeth jutted out.

The Snake waved a hand, “Not literally. I don’t presume to know what your pain feels like because I am not you. But I’ve had my run-ins with the Scholar and while an...useful asset to Thomas, I agree he can be difficult to deal with.”

Something green and sticky coiled around the Snake’s bottom reptilian half, entangling the end of his tail. “Ooh I like you!”

Another green-and-sticky something attached to the Spiderling, who did his very best to stay still and not freak. “And I also like you, even though you haven’t said much! What’s your favorite Disney villain?”

“M-maleficient.” The Spiderling said in a hoarse whisper.

“Ooh, sick. I like Ursula because she has two pet eels and when I--we--Thomas grows up, I think we should totally get two pet moray eels and we can feed people we don’t like to them--”

“That’s very nice and you can tell us that wonderful idea later,” The Snake cut in, “but what happened with Scholar and Heart?”

“Oh, alright,” A black boot stomped in mild irritation, “So you know Humpty Dumpty? He’s always depicted as an egg, but it never says that in the rhyme! It’s kinda like that. Smartypants tried putting him--me--us back together again but he got it all wrong!”

A translucent head appeared, shaking side to side in indignation.

“Y’see, when he put the Prince back together again, he based it off of what he remembered the Prince being. All the pieces he thinks makes who me--him--the Prince is. All. The. Pieces. That. Aren’t. ME!” The fiery flash in the green eyes was the only warning the two received before the physical glimpses dissipated completely.

“P-prince?” The Snake called out, uncharacteristically hesitant, “Are you still with us?”

“Don’t! Don’t call me that.”

“Well, what can we call you then?” The Snake amended, withholding a sigh of relief.

“Can I...can I be called the Kraken?”

“Of course, you can be called whatever you’d like.”

An ear-splitting screech sounded in the throne room, causing the Snake to slightly regret his statement. Only slightly, because it was very clearly a joyous screech.

There was a green shimmer in the air and then within a blink, a boy. A boy who looked remarkably similar to the beloved Prince, but not quite. The green tentacles attached to his back was the most glaringly obvious difference.

But there were more subtle ones. Half-healed scrapes and faded scars. Something the Prince would never allow to blemish his skin. A white strand of hair nestled among the boy’s auburn locks of hair. A black raggedy shirt and a pair of green pants that looked closer to a pirate’s garb than a prince’s attire.

“I’m the Kraken! Not a stinky loser prince!” The boy whooped and with a running start, crashed into the Snake and the Spiderling. His tentacles surrounded them and the Snake was certain it’d be hard to escape their suction-cup grip anytime soon.

He was worried that the Spiderling would panic and sink his fangs into the Kraken. Instead, the Spiderling comfortingly stroked the Kraken’s hair just like the Snake had previously done for him.

The Snake repressed a smile at this. “Kraken, what would you like to do?”

“Cry, I think.” The Kraken responded, promptly bursting into tears. The Spiderling joined him, the poor thing, soaking in the Kraken’s fear and grief.

“Shh, my dears, it’ll be alright,” The Snake promised, “Forget the others, the three of us can be our own little family. How does that sound?”

“S-sounds good,” The Kraken hiccuped, “Don’t know why I--we--him were so mean to you two, I’m--I’m s-s-s-sorry--”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” The Snake said, “don’t force yourself to talk, let it all out.”

The Kraken obliged, wailing as if the world had ended and all that remained was a trillion bits of space dust. Which, in a way, it felt that way for him. Have you ever been torn in two? Literally? It was an anguish that any amount of words regardless of language would fail to adequately capture.

It was a wound that wouldn’t, couldn’t, ever fully heal. There were some days, he wasn’t fully there, in mind or in body. Sometimes just a flash of needle-thin teeth. A warm breath behind your ears. A shadow in the corner of your eyes.

But regardless of whatever remnant of him was coherent, he had a family who loved whichever remnant that was there. And for a long, long while, things were happyish.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #kat writes #split fic #not neccesarily #what i consider canon #just a fun what-if y'know?

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